"Anyone here want to marry me?" She cut straight to the point as she barged into the first barracks.
She was met by a stunned silence. And then a wave of laughter rang in her ears, followed by all kinds of cheeky remarks. But she reacted to only one: "Sure lady, why not?"
"Good," she said and pulled the guy off his bunk. "You promise you will marry me? As soon as may be?"
The man looked at her quite dumbfounded.
"Well? Will you marry me?" Hella urged him on.
He shook his head in the fiercest denial. "Never. Don´t even think about it!" And disgustedly he turned away, while his comrades laughed jeeringly. At her, not at him.
Obviously she was getting nowhere here. Better try another barracks.
So she hurried out and found her way to the next door. "Anyone here want to marry me?"
"Sure. What prisoner of war could possibly refuse a marriage proposal from the enemy-general´s sister?" an English private quipped.
She turned to him. "Well, will you do it then?"
But he stepped back and raised two fingers in the air. "Over my dead body, lady," he announced solemnly.
Hella stomped her foot in anger and despair. "A dead body is of no use to me!" She felt tears gathering in her eyes. Wasn´t there anybody willing to help? Time was running out so quickly...! Perhaps crying would do the trick? After all, men were men, enemies or not.
So: "But I really need to get married," she sniffed. "I need to get married now. Right away, or else..." She let the ´or else´ hang in the air; if they knew the truth, they would absolutely never agree to marry her.
"Come, come, lady," a young black sergeant soothed her. "Klink can´t be that bad. Why don´t you sleep on it first? Things always look brighter in the morning."
"No, they won´t," she sobbed. The way things were going, there might not be a morning for her...
"Well, then go and cry your eyes out with your filthy Boche friends. But let us sleep in peace, will you?" a Frenchman muttered from under his blanket.
He got so much applause that there was but one thing to do: get out of here and try yet another barracks. How much time did she had left?!
Perhaps she should show herself as one of those sexy young ladies, like the ones on the posters the prisoners had put up on the walls. Klink´s secretary might do; she looked attractive enough. But she had gone home hours ago of course, and there was no other woman around for miles. And posing as someone did require drinking them in first.
Oh well, there was no time for that anyway. She really had to focus on her task now. Get a groom. Quickly. And don´t let other things bother her. Especially those sneaky millions from the future. She simply couldn´t afford to be bothered by anything else. Just hurry... hurry to find a husband. Any husband at all.
She barged into the next barracks, and – oh wonder! – the prisoner´s leader was sitting at the table with a few other men.
Instantly she threw herself in his arms. "Will you marry me?"
He was slightly taken aback, and the other men stared at the scene, totally stunned.
"Wow," the leader said after just a moment. "Frau Linkmeyer, what are you up to? I thought you were going to marry our beloved Kommandant?"
She had no time for jokes. "Will you marry me? Now? Please!?" she begged.
The man grinned. "How about a kiss first?"
Anything to get him to marry her. He may be her last chance! So with all the desperate passion of her plight, she gave him exactly what he asked for.
The guys around whistled appreciatively.
"Now will you marry me?" she demanded when she came up for breath.
He frowned. "I´m sorry, Frau Linkmeyer, but I don´t understand. Why on earth would I want to marry you?"
"Because I have to... I mean..." Wait. Most humans wanted to marry for love, didn´t they? That much she had gathered over the centuries. "Because I love you so. You are so strong and forceful... And forceful, and strong..." How on earth did one go about to get a guy to marry you for love?! "And it was you who wrote that beautiful loveletter to me in Klink´s name, wasn´t it?"
A boyish American shook his head. "No, that was him." His thumb pointed at the Englishman sitting next to him.
Hella let go of their leader as if she had burnt herself. "You? It was you?!"
He saluted. "At your service, ma´am."
She didn´t mind his beard of several days; she just rushed at his side. "Will you marry me then?"
Her new prey grinned. "Well, what can I say? I suppose an ugly bird is better than no bird at... Hey! Where´d she go?"
Carter gulped. A raw, high-pitched shriek echoed back and forth through the room. And they all stared at the spot where Frau Linkmeyer had been standing just a moment before.
Shocked.
For there was nothing there.
Just a faint wreath of smoke.
"Holy cow..." Kinch mumbled.
And LeBeau cleared his throat. "Peter... were you really going to marry that woman? An ugly bird and all that..."
"Don´t be daft," Newkirk gave back. "Me and marrying? Never. It´s my new disappearing act," he tried to make light of it. "You know how I can make watches and coins and cards disappear? Well, this is simply the next level: make people disappear. You know, I´ve been thinking while I was in the cooler, and I´ve decided to take the official exam for magician after the war. So I have to practise."
Hogan gave him a puzzled frown, but Carter exclaimed: "Boy, that´s cool! Do you do it on request as well? How about letting Klink disappear?"
"Or even better: Burkhalter!" LeBeau chimed in. "Then hopefully Klink will stop being so overly protective of the camp."
"Try Hitler first," Kinch suggested dryly.
"I´ll think about it," Newkirk promised absentmindedly. But under his breath he muttered: "Blimey, I wish I was as good as that bloody kraut-witch..."