A/N: I've added translation notes to this chapter and many of the previous chapters, for anyone who wants to know the German. I do apologize if I got anything wrong in translation, since I don't actually speak German! Please let me know if I made any errors or something should be phrased differently.
Roll call the following morning was a tense affair; the prisoners could not contain their glee about the previous night's devastating air raid, while the guards were mostly foul tempered for the same reason. Colonel Hogan managed to keep the worst catcallers out of the cooler, but it was a close thing.
And yet, despite his fitful sleep and the thousand worries of the night, Karl felt strangely light. Even… happy?
He was in such a good mood that he had to struggle to make it through Colonel Klink's indoctrination lecture of the American flyers with a straight face. He'd already heard the speech a hundred times and more when new prisoners arrived, and it seemed to grow more and more ridiculous every time. No one escapes from Stalag 13, toughest POW camp in all of Germany, iron fist, abandon all hope ye who enter here…
By the time he escorted the men out, it was all he could do to not burst out laughing, which would surely have earned him time cleaning the latrines. Colonel Klink took his position seriously, after all.
Even Sergeant Schultz seemed to notice Karl's mood while they were patrolling the compound later in the morning.
"Why are you so happy?" the fat sergeant asked in confusion as they watched the men from Barracks 9 competing against the men from Barracks 3. What the prisoners were doing and how they were keeping score completely escaped Karl, but they seemed to be having fun. Quite a lot of it, too, to judge by the way they were hollering and cheering. They had to be careful, or the Kommandant would think they were instigating a riot. "Everyone is very upset about the air raid in Hammelburg, especially the Big Shot. It took him weeks to set up that dinner with the general. And Colonel Hogan is up to some monkey business, I know it! So why are you so happy?"
Karl shrugged helplessly. "I can't explain it, Sergeant. Yesterday, I was in Hammelburg, and the bombs were raining down… And then Major Hochstetter…" he stammered uncertainly.
"Ach, I know what you mean now," Schultz nodded sagely, pulling a chocolate bar out of his coat. "It was such a terrible time, and now that you are back, you feel so much better!"
He considered Sergeant Schultz's words. Everything was out of his hands, now, and he was back at home (well, as much a home as Stalag 13 was for any of them). What would happen, would happen. Colonel Hogan surely had a plan, and Captain McCaffrey and his men would be free again by the same time tomorrow.
Free. That was how he felt.
Schultz's voice brought him out of his introspection. "Oh, look, there are the new boys you brought from Hammelburg. Isn't it nice, they're helping the hurt one get a good view of the game."
Karl couldn't help a smile as he watched Corporal Woods hopping gamely, supported by his two fellow enlisted men, who eased him onto a nearby bench. Despite a slight wince, Woods waved away any further mother-henning. His exact words were lost in the shouting, but the other two immediately grinned and joined the melee.
As Karl left the sergeant to eat his chocolate and continued on his slow patrol of the compound, he was surprised when Corporal Woods actually noticed him, and just short of astonished when the injured corporal spoke to him as he passed by.
"Hey, wait, you're the Kraut from last night," he remarked, waving a finger in his direction. "Langford?"
"Langenscheidt," Karl corrected him as he came to stand next to him. He was even more surprised that the injured corporal had been paying attention enough to remember even that much. It had been a very stressful night, and it had been pretty dark, to boot, nevermind the American's painful injury.
"That's it. Thought it was a funny one." Woods winced a bit as he adjusted his injured leg on the bench. "The colonel, he said you went to bat for us when that Gestapo goon showed up. Why would you do that? Cap and the others had just taken you at gunpoint and we were gonna make you drive us to Switzerland."
Karl smiled back hesitantly, but couldn't find a way to answer the man. He wasn't certain what to say; there was just too much he could not put into words. Greta, Colonel Hogan, his own conscience. And how could he now admit that he actually did speak English after all?
"Then again," Woods continued blithely, "why am I asking you? You don't understand English any more than I know German."
He couldn't help himself; the irony was simply overwhelming. "I-i-ich weiß mehr, als Sie denken, daß ich weiß," he stammered with a mischief so rare he could barely believe he felt it.
"Yeah, you said it." Woods shrugged, oblivious to Karl's complete comprehension. "Anyway, I'm… I'm just glad we're not in the hands of the Gestapo right now. Now Cap, I don't think he sees a difference 'tween you and them. His buddy got shot down a while back; story goes he got captured by you Krauts and landed in a prison camp somewhere. By the time he was traded back, he was in such a way that he couldn't tell up from down anymore."
The injured American heaved a sigh. "Cap'll be happy to see every one'a you Krauts rot in hell."
"Ich bin nicht überrascht." Karl could hardly blame Captain McCaffrey for his hatred. The other prison camps were wretched hell-holes of misery, disease, and despair. He heard some truly terrible stories from the other guards, and from eavesdropping on transferred prisoners. By comparison, Stalag 13 was the country club that Colonel Hogan sometimes compared it to. 'Toughest POW camp in all of Germany,' indeed.
"Y'know, I got no idea what you just said," grinned Woods cheerfully, throwing off his somber mood. "I'll letcha know, though, I can't wait to get outta here and back home. Hasn't even been a day."
How must Hogan and his men feel, Karl wondered? Many of the other prisoners cycled in and out fairly regularly, but the men from Barracks 2 in particular, some had been trapped here for years, hundreds or thousands of miles away from family and friends, with no hope of seeing home again unless the war ended.
"Anyway," Woods continued, a smirk spreading across his face, "I still think Hitler's mother wears army boots. Though, on second thought, that's probably an insult to army boots everywhere."
Karl quickly covered a laugh with a spasm of coughing, which earned him a quizzical look from Corporal Woods.
"Huh."
Quickly composing himself, Karl threw his rifle over his shoulder once more and continued on his patrol, lest his good cheer get him into trouble. Thoughtfully, he mused that while Corporal Woods hadn't quite thanked him, it was more than he had ever hoped to get.
His eyes felt strangely misty all of a sudden.
Translation Notes:
"Ich weiß mehr, als Sie denken, daß ich weiß" : "I know more than you think I know."
"Ich bin nicht überrascht." : "I'm not surprised."