Disclaimer: I don't own Hogan's Heroes or any of the characters; I merely borrow them and play with them for a while.
Major Wolfgang Hochstetter has had a long and rather illustrious career. Sometimes almost too long, he thinks, as he stands in Klink's office, listening to the fawning camp Kommandant's reassurances that he most certainly will give the Gestapo any assistance they might require in order to find out who blew up the ammunitions dump.
Of course, it wasn't the kind of career that had been expected of him in his youth, not with a father who was a schoolteacher and wanted his son to walk in his footsteps.
However, the dull, routine life of a schoolteacher was not something that appealed to the young Hochstetter. Such a plebeian existence was simply not for him. But not knowing what it was that he actually wanted instead, he sort of drifted through life, ending up working as an administrative clerk, while secretly longing for something better. Something more glorious and exciting. Something where he would matter.
And that something did eventually come his way. He remembers those early days vividly, like a movie playing out before his inner eye, back when the Party was still nothing but a small fringe on the edge of society. Small, yes, but growing nonetheless.
And he had been there almost from the very start, listening breathlessly as a virtually unknown politician by the name of Hitler gave one of his first speeches. Hochstetter had immediately been taken in by the man, by the sheer passion and intensity with which he had spoken of a better society to come. A society that they – those assembled in the small, murky room – would make happen.
From that day on, Hochstetter knew what he wanted to do with his life. He had finally found a meaning, something worth fighting for.
And fought he did. Figuratively as well as literally. There was opposition at first. Many did not like the new upstart, with his new ideas that challenged the old order. Some called him a lunatic, a crazy fanatic with delusions of grandeur. But Hochstetter knew better, and he was intent on proving Hitler's detractors wrong.
Of course, it took time. Time during which they fought in the streets – brawled like simpletons, even; assassinated those who stood in their way, slowly but surely paving the way to full control of Germany.
Glorious days indeed, filled with excitement and danger. Filled with the rush of power as the Party gained ground. And he was right there, in the middle of everything, as it all happened, as history was written right before their very eyes.
No, as they wrote it.
And to think that his father had wanted him to become a simple schoolteacher. The thought was ludicrous, an insult even. No, he had found his true calling in life within the Party.
Of course, there wasn't danger and opposition from the outside only, oh no. Some of the most dangerous adversaries could be found in their own midst. And there were purges within the Party, within the Gestapo, as members tried to frame, assassinate, and implicate each other. Some disappeared, never to be heard from again, others were found in the grey hours of the early morning with their throats sliced open, while yet others were taken away to stand trial for real or imagined crimes against the Reich.
Those were dangerous times, to be sure. But Hochstetter fought with tooth and nail, clawing his way up through the Gestapo ranks as those weaker fell by the wayside. He was determined to come out on top, as a victor, not one of those countless victims who were too incompetent or unfit to make it.
Yes, dangerous times, but exciting nevertheless. It was as if the constant danger and looming threat to his life only made him feel all the more alive. There was no way he could ever go back to his old life now. For the first time, he was truly living, not just existing like all those other bleak shadows of men with their empty and meaningless lives that would pass him by in the streets.
He was finally important. People feared him, and with good reason, because he had the power of the Party to back him up. He enjoyed the glimmer of fear he would see in the eyes of people as they spotted his ominous black Gestapo uniform complete with the distinct armband swastika. And he revelled in the terror apparent on the faces of those who had been brought in for interrogation and knew their days were reckoned.
Yes, his life back then was like a never-ending rush of power, coursing through his veins and giving him a feeling of being invincible. Unconquerable.
However, that feeling eventually faded as the Party cemented their position of power, and the opposition eventually all but died down.
Nowadays, no one – well, not within Germany anyway – is openly questioning the right of the Party to rule the country, not since many years now. There are no longer any internal enemies of importance left to fight, no opposition to be dealt with. The days of having to fight for survival and power are long gone.
And so are the days when he determinedly fought his way up through the ranks, having to make good use of every little bit of cunning and intelligence given him. Now, the current command chain is stable, some might even call it fossilized, consisting of officers who enjoy Hitler's trust and support. There is little, if any, room for advancement anymore. His best bet is to simply wait for the ones above him to reach the age of retirement, and that grates him.
Not even the thrill of seeing people afraid of him is what it used to be. He's too used to it now, the automatic bowing and scraping and jawohl, Herr Major from people desperate to placate him. Nowadays, it disgusts him rather than excites him. There is simply no challenge anymore.
To make matters even worse, now he's stuck investigating simple acts of sabotage.
How pathetic.
He is about to turn on his heel and leave, when suddenly Colonel Hogan comes barging into Klink's office, barely even acknowledging the Gestapo major.
Hochstetter eyes him suspiciously. He can't for the life of him understand what this man is doing here. Or why the insolent American always seems to magically appear out of thin air whenever he visits Stalag 13, for that matter. But regardless of all that, there is a sudden, very tangible rush of something within him as Hogan enters. Something familiar that he used to feel in those days of old, as they, Hitler's loyal followers, made the Party rise from the gutters.
Those days of fighting for power and position that are now over, their glory having faded to leave only the dull routine of everyday life. The very kind of life he always feared, and desperately sought to avoid in his refusal to become a schoolteacher.
No, not yet, he corrects himself. He doesn't lead that kind of life just yet. Because there is still one challenge – one precious challenge – left. He knows that Hogan is, one way or the other, involved in the frequent sabotage acts in Hammelburg. Yes, he is certain of it, and he intends to prove it one day. No matter what it's going to cost him.
Hogan might be infuriating. Annoying and antagonizing. Still, in a time which isn't anything compared to what it used to be, the American colonel is the only one to offer Hochstetter enough of a challenge to truly make him feel alive again.