chapter 12

"One word," Ruth said as we crammed around the small table in Hogan's office. "Self-preservation."

"That's two words." Carter interjected.

"No, it's one word. That's hyphenated." Newkirk shook his head. "Don't mind him, miss. Spelling's not his strong suit."

"Technically speaking; is a hyphenated word considered one or two words?" Now Kinch was getting into the conversation.

"Does it really matter?" I was getting impatient. Half my family had OCD tendencies and it annoyed me. Especially when it was not important.

"No, it doesn't really matter," Hogan said calmly. "Please continue."

"Klink cares about self-preservation, over anything. Am I right?" Ruth turned to Hogan.

"Fair assumption," he replied.

"Then why haven't you used that to get the watch back? Go after his primal instinct. Get underneath his skin, psychologically, without him realizing it. Little threats. Maybe a mass escape to ruin his record. Or…maybe. Russian Front. Etcetera and so, forth." Ruth gave the colonel a triumphant look. "See?"

Hogan started to smile. I could see it. He then stopped. "You really think it's that easy, don't you?" He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and waited for our response.

"Go ahead." I poked Ruth. "It was your idea."

I was beginning to feel chastened. Ruth's enthusiasm at lunch had rubbed off on me and the thought of actually contributing to our own rescue got me a bit excited; even if was only to give Hogan a heads-up and wait for his compliments. Our bubble burst and I could see Ruth sort of deflate. Frankly, I now knew how Ralphie felt in The Christmas Story when his teacher returned his theme. Except Hogan didn't write: you'll shoot your eye out, and hand us a C+.

"Coward," she whispered in my ear.

I have to give the man credit. He didn't yell. I guess that was a sign of a good officer. Come to think of it, my dad had been an officer in the Royal Navy, and he didn't yell either. But one look and he'd have us with the proverbial lump in the throat. As for Hogan, well, here he was, in the middle of what was the tail-end of the war, faced with a load of sick men, missing rations, and freezing weather. Not to mention the fear, terror, and uncertainty. And the spy thing. And just what he needed to make his life miserable was seated right across from him. Two middle-aged women from the future, whose fate he held in his hands and whose fate he may have sealed because, he lost the stupid watch. And who actually thought they could hand him a plot on a platter because they watched the stupid sitcom that should have been titled, "who in their right mind would have put this thing on television in the first place."

"Klink most likely doesn't have the watch anymore," Hogan said solemnly. "Not only was he suspicious of it because I was hiding it, but he got this gut feeling inside of him. Something told him it was more than just a lucky heirloom. He most likely handed it over to someone for testing. But, sometimes it's easier to attract flies with honey."

"I tell my kids that."

"Klink is not a child, Mrs. Rubinstein. Depending on the circumstances, it's better to stroke his ego."

And so, Hogan, carrying a stack of paperwork, left for Klink's office, while Ruth and I, accompanied by the gang of four, Olsen, and several other men from the barracks, crowded around the coffee pot. Yes, the coffee pot!

"You're joking. You actually use this thing?" Ruth peered into the interior.

"It doesn't make coffee, if that's what you're wondering," Kinch noted as he hooked it up.

"You kept complaining about that on the show," I told him.

"That's absolutely ludicrous," Olsen answered.

"I'm insulted," O"Reilly piped up. "Like we wouldn't know what's what."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't appear in the show.

We heard the sound of a door opening, and an unidentified male announcing Hogan's arrival.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan. You're early." We heard the sound of papers rustling.

"I am?"

Hogan's voice had changed to a higher in pitch. I felt temporarily triumphant, as I had mentioned this in my fanfics, as well as pointing it out on the forums. When he and Werner were in a scene together, Bob Crane had done the same thing; at least I thought he had.

"Yes, fourteen minutes early." Klink sounded annoyed.

"Nice toupee sir. I'm sorry I'm early. I used to have a watch."

"Where's your wristwatch. Hogan?"

"On my wrist. But it stopped. See. You have the one that works."

Klink grunted. "Borrow one. I have a mound of paperwork to go over with you. Sit down."

A few moments later, Klink spoke again. "I need more work details to fix up the rest of the unoccupied barracks. Double shifts. And I have nothing to offer in exchange. Your precious Allies are disrupting the delivery of Red Cross packages. But, if you give me the men, the new prisoners will have a dry place to stay."

"How many new prisoners, sir?" Hogan's voice had deepened a bit.

"Here's my report from Burkhalter. It just came in this morning."

Hogan took in an audible deep breath. "I'll get my staff right on it."

With that, two men disappeared went over to the filing cabinet and removed some paperwork. They took it out into the common room.

"What about the woods, sir?"

"I'm trying to locate a patch. The civilians have been chopping down whatever remains. If I find one, I'll let you know. And then I'll have to get permission to let your men out that far."

"You're going to let the SS dictate where you can have us go under guard?" Hogan's voice rose angrily.

"Yes!" Klink's retort was sharp. "You don't know what's at stake! I can't…"

There was an air of tension in the silence that followed. We were holding our breath.

"Have you been threatened?" Hogan asked quietly several moments later.

"No," Klink answered firmly. He seemed to have regained his composure. "Not in those words," he added. "But, I'm warning you…." I could almost see his finger wagging at Hogan. "Things are not what they seem. And the Luftwaffe protection and your men's lifestyle here can change at a moment's notice. And it can affect us all."

LeBeau, who was jotting notes down on a pad of paper, looked up. "Klink knows about the evacuations, and he's scared."

Hogan spoke. "Well, I have men on call 24/7 to chop wood, if you need them."

Klink sighed. "Do you have anything else to report, Hogan?"

"Sick call."

"I see." There was a slight pause. Klink must have been glancing at the report. "There is not much I can do to help your doctor. We have sick as well."

"I'd like permission to rearrange barrack assignments. Dr. Stein would like to be able to quarantine prisoners."

"Granted. Let Schultz know, and then have him bring over the new assignments."

"Thank you."

"Very well. If that's all, you're dismissed."

How hard and degrading it must be to take orders from an enemy of the same rank. And one you probably did not respect, at that. Or at least respect militarily. I'm sure Hogan appreciated Klink's humanity. It was in there, somewhere. I felt like I had heard it. But I just couldn't imagine all the thousands of young men, locked up in these prisons, for months, if not years.

We heard the sound of the office door opening. Then a pause. I held my breath, as I hoped Hogan would have the wherewithal to bring up the watch again, despite the disconcerting conversation that had taken place between him and Klink.

"Kommandant, while I'm here, and so I don't disturb you again, I do have something else."

"What is it? And thank you for not threatening to come back in the near future. I am already developing a headache."

"We need props."

"For what?"

"Another show."

"You just had one, last month."

"Keeps the men busy, sir. Takes their mind off of things. And you have to admit, you enjoyed it. The follies of 45. Yes, it was worthy of Broadway. You said so yourself. In your review. The men framed it. It's hanging up in the rec hall."

I didn't recall seeing the review on our rec hall tour. But it's possible I missed it. Or Hogan was lying.

"Well, I did get a laugh seeing the men dressed up as women and trying to perform a kick line," Klink admitted. "What's this month's show?"

"Alice in Wonderland. Would you like to be in it? We have the perfect part. Repeat after me. I'm late."

"I'm late."

"I'm late."

"I'm late."

"For a very important date."

"For a very important date?"

"Yes, date. You're doing fine, Kommandant. Put more oomph into it! Say this. No time to say "Hello." / Goodbye."

"No time to say "Hello." / Goodbye."

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late."

" I'm late, I'm late, I'm late."

"Good grief," I exclaimed.

"That's a different play," Ruth told me. "About Charlie Brown."

"Beautiful diction. Now," Hogan continued. "You know, sir. You have one of the best voices in camp."

"I do?"

"Absolutely," Hogan replied. "Do you think you can put that in a sing-song?"

"Actually," Carter turned to us. "Klink really can carry a tune."

"Well I don't know. I can work on it," Klink said.

"Wonderful. But we need my watch. It's perfect for the white Rabbit. Just for the play."

"Oh, of course, Hogan. I'll…" There was a pause. "Wait one moment!" Klink bellowed. "How stupid do you think I am?"