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What's in a Name
Chapter 25
Triskaidekaphobia
sorry it took so long to post the next chapter. At the end of chapter 24, Newkirk and another prisoner broke into the shed and sabotaged what they assumed was a radio detector.
Newkirk was used to being out at night, as he had taken many trips to the dog pen before the tunnel entrance in the hut was completed. However, it still took him a while to get back to his barracks, as he had to dodge both the guards and the searchlights along the way. He waited for a clear shot, and then opened the door very slowly, only as far as he needed to slip his slim frame into the building. Carefully and quietly, Newkirk pulled the door shut.
Tiptoeing across the common room, he arrived at the bunk he shared with LeBeau. The next step was the difficult one. He had to hoist himself up to the top bunk without waking the other corporal. Fortunately, LeBeau was short and curled up in a fetal position. This gave Newkirk room at the end of the bunk to get a boost. He had one leg in mid-air, when LeBeau turned and pulled himself up to a seating position.
"Where were you?"
Newkirk was startled, and he just managed to catch himself before he fell flat on the floor.
"At the latrine. Sorry to wake you."
"No bother," added a now alert Deschamps. "We all knew you left. A trip to the latrine should not have taken so long. And with your record, why would you risk being caught outside for that?"
"Yes, Newkirk. Why?"
Newkirk turned around and saw Maddock standing by the bunk closest to his office door. The MOC was holding a lit lantern, and the glow of the lamp outlined his obviously miffed face.
Newkirk bit his lip. "I didn't want to disturb anyone here," he stated. "I preferred the privacy."
"Incroyable," LeBeau remarked as he shook his head.
"It took an awful long time for you to get from here to there and back again," Maddock accused Newkirk.
"Sorry. It won't happen again. It's funny, but I usually have the opposite problem if you get my drift."
"Don't we all," another hut mate mumbled.
Maddock thought for a moment. He had a suspicion Newkirk wasn't completely telling the truth, but without any proof or a reaction from the guards, he was reluctant to accuse another prisoner of monkey business, as Schultz liked to call it.
"All right. Don't do that again. You already have a record. The guards aren't the brightest and they aren't trigger-happy, but you never know. Everyone go back to sleep." Maddock went into his room and hopped on to his bunk; he preferred the top as it was warmer than the bottom. He discovered this his first winter in camp—heat does rise after all. He turned off the lantern, bent down, and placed it on the table next to the bunk bed. Tomorrow, I'll call a barracks chiefs' meeting and lay down the law, he noted before he fell asleep.
Dietzler was also caught by his bunkmates. His chief made a note to speak to Maddock about this late-night excursion. Going to the dog pen was one thing, but there were other, safer ways to handle life's necessities in the middle-of-the-night.
Early the next morning, Maddock met with all the chiefs, who then met with their charges to reiterate the MOC's orders. Neither Dietzler nor Newkirk told anyone about the break-in.
At mid-morning, a Gestapo staff car drove into the camp and parked outside the Kommandantur. The Kommandant and the civilian left the office and introduced themselves to the Gestapo agent.
Klink peered through the open window, shocked that the agent had no driver. "I'm Kommandant Klink, and this is Doctor Göldner. Pleased to have you here." The two stepped back.
The agent opened the door and exited his car. He towered over both Klink, who stood a few inches shy of six feet, and Göldner, who was several inches shorter than the Kommandant.
"Major Fahl." Fahl's normal expression was one of disdain, and he stared back at Klink and Göldner in a manner that made Klink uncomfortable. Göldner, resembling an anxious lackey ready to perform for his masters, squirmed.
Fahl looked down at the scientist. "Too much caffeine?" he asked as he removed his gloves.
Göldner stifled a cough. "No, Major. Just ready to show my work."
"This way, Major." Klink escorted the agent and the scientist to the shed, now guarded by two men from the day shift. "I will tell the guards to restrict the prisoners to their barracks," he stated before they opened the door.
"That won't be necessary, Klink. It will only increase their curiosity and arouse suspicion. What can they possibly do if one or two of them suspect we are testing scientific equipment?" Fahl pointed out. "Besides, I have heard that you have an excellent record."
Klink stood up a bit straighter as he began to turn the knob. "Yes, that is true, Major. An excellent record. No successful escapes."
One guard glanced at the other guard and rolled his eyes. Fortunately, the officers did not notice their impertinence.
Both Dietzler and Newkirk, along with most of the other prisoners, were on the compound. Men tended to hang out with men from the same hut, so the two were separated. They both put on innocent facial expressions and tried to look busy.
LeBeau sidled up to his friend and poked him in the ribs. "What do you think is in there?"
Newkirk shrugged. "Some kind of weapon, I reckon. Not sure. Besides," his voice went up an octave, "how would I know?"
LeBeau looked at him quizzically. "You all right? You seem a bit nervous."
"Never better." Newkirk hurriedly lit a cigarette. "Well, I'd be better if I wasn't here, but you get my drift."
Fahl and Klink stood next to Göldner as he powered up the detector. While it was warming up, he attempted to explain the mechanics and functioning of the unit.
"Not interested. I just want to see if it works as promised," said Fahl. "Get on with it."
The scientist pouted, but sat down and stared at the readings for a moment. "It has warmed up now," he stated, as he adjusted some of the knobs.
"We hid our radios throughout the camp, as you directed," Klink said.
"Why would you do otherwise, Klink?"
"Absolutely, Major. Why would we do otherwise?" Klink answered. I hate the Gestapo. They have no manners. He shivered.
Göldner turned and looked up at Fahl. He was not as intimidated as Klink, but he was wary. "We're ready." He nodded at Klink, who went over to the phone located on a nearby wall.
"Turn them on," Klink ordered.
"Perhaps we'll pick up clandestine radios as well," Göldner gleefully stated.
"That would be a bonus," Fahl said. He looked down at his hands and began to examine his nails. These tests, while necessary, bored him. Why someone else could not handle these mundane duties was beyond him. Nevertheless, General Burkhalter had contacted his superior, and so, here he was. On the other hand, if the unit worked as promised, he could take the prototype and start searching for illegal radios used by civilians who wanted to listen to the BBC, or even by members of the Underground he suspected were working in this sector.
Göldner continued fiddling with the dials. "I don't understand," he mumbled.
Fahl bent over the scientist. "Something wrong? I don't have all day."
"I'm not picking up our test radios. That's impossible." He scratched his head.
Klink picked up the phone again. After a moment, he hung up the receiver. "They are on."
As Göldner was about to turn off the machine and check the connection, smoke began leaking out behind the back panel.
"Your machine is on fire." Fahl pointed out. As both Klink and Göldner attempted futilely to stop the spread of smoke, Fahl calmly reached down and pulled out the plug, which stopped the sizzling sound emanating from the machine, as well as the smoke. "You have both wasted my time."
"Wait, I am sure there is a logical explanation." Klink began to follow the agent out of the building, leaving Göldner behind scratching his head and examining the now charred remains of his radio detector.
The angry Gestapo agent, a befuddled Kommandant, and a few moments later, the upset scientist, stomped across the compound. This parade did not go unnoticed by the prisoners.
The various groups of men scattered in the compound had magnetically coalesced. Newkirk and Dietzler glanced at each other, slight grins etched on their faces.
As Fahl got into his staff car, loudly slamming the door behind him, the scientist turned to Klink.
"This is your fault." Göldner looked up at the Kommandant. "I salvaged nothing. I could not even tell if any wires got disconnected. Someone tampered with my machine." He stomped his foot. "That's the only explanation."
Klink was insulted. "I assure you that no one entered the shed after you set up your equipment. No one. The shed was guarded all night."
"Then the only explanation is the camp."
"I don't follow you."
"Klink, you are a fool. It is unlucky. 13. Everyone knows you should not assign the number 13 to anything. Hotel floors, railroad cars. Probably causing some electromagnetic pulses that play havoc with machinery. I bet nothing works in this camp."
Klink stepped back. "That is not true. I..."
"Are you suggesting the Fuhrer's interest in the paranormal is crazy?" Göldner asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I would never suggest that. Perhaps there was a short in the wiring. I will have my electrician…wait! We are not actually Stalag 13. There was an error." Klink tried to explain. "You see, it is quite funny. We are supposed to be…"
Göldner stared at Klink for a moment. "Yes, I am aware of the numbering error." He then said in a calm voice. "Perhaps you are correct. I'll be taking my machine now."
Klink scratched his head as he watched the scientist- he now thought the man was mad-walk back to the shed. He turned to Schultz, who had sidled up to the Kommandant. "What just happened?"
Schultz shrugged. "I saw nothing."
"I think he is crazy."
"And rude. Constantly interrupting," Schultz answered.
"A radio detection unit would be useful." Klink sighed. "I suppose I should contact General Burkhalter." As Klink turned to walk towards the compound, he spied a dozen prisoners standing close by. They had obviously witnessed the entire exchange.
Maddock walked a few paces towards Klink, thought better of it and returned to the crowd of men. One look immediately stopped the snickering and talking.
"Newkirk, Dietzler. In my office."
Two minutes later, behind a closed door, Maddock faced the two. "Did you two break into the shed?"
The two men shuffled a bit, and began staring at their shoes. Finally, Newkirk spoke. "It was my idea. We didn't plan it beforehand, though. The opportunity just came up."
"I agreed to it," Dietzler admitted. "And I was the one who sabotaged the equipment. It was a radio detector."
"Aha! You admit it!" Maddock snapped his pencil in half. "What were you thinking? We're not in the sabotage business."
"We just wanted to see what it was they were hiding." Newkirk said. "What if they had turned it on and found an Underground radio nearby. What if we had started our transmissions? We could have been caught. Not to mention our homemade radios tuned to the BBC."
Maddock did not have an immediate answer, but he thought he could feel his dark brown hair turning grey. He opened the door. "LeBeau. We're testing the dog collar system. Send a message to Oskar to watch out for radio detection equipment." As LeBeau disappeared down into the tunnel, Maddock turned to the two miscreants. "I think you both took a few years off my life." He sighed. "But, actually, you may have done us all a service. Maybe Klink will put a stop to these visits and experiments. Go on. Get out of here."
As Dietzler fled the hut, he had to scramble to get out of the way of Schultz, who barged into the building with no thought for those he managed to bump into.
"How's the Kommandant?" Deschamps asked the sergeant. "In trouble with the law? He can have my lucky rabbit's foot." Deschamps reached into his pocket, while everyone laughed.
"Perhaps a fortune-teller?" Another prisoner produced an old British newspaper. "I think there is a horoscope in here somewhere."
"What do you want, Schultz?" Maddock offered the sergeant a chocolate bar.
"Danke. What is this for?" Schultz asked, his eyebrows rising in suspicion. He plopped his gun down by the door.
"Just to be nice. I can take it back." Maddock reached for the candy bar.
"Not necessary. The Kommandant, who is fine, thank you for asking, needs a large work crew tomorrow for a fall clean up near the Hamelburg road. He wants to speak to you later today about the assignment."
The hut went silent. Maddock nodded. "I already have one all drawn up. I figured with the leaves and branches falling, he would ask for our help sooner rather than later. Say 15 men?"
"Danke. 0800 tomorrow."
"It will be nice to get out of camp, Schultzie. You supervising?" Newkirk patted the German on the back and then handed the rifle back to the guard.
"I am the Sergeant of the Guard and the Kommandant's aide. I do not supervise work details. The guards are assigned by me!" He walked out the door.
"This is it?" asked Newkirk.
"This is it." Maddock stated. "Notify the escape committee. We have a lot of work to do."
After regaling Helga with the sordid details of that morning's failed experiment and the mental quirks of the scientist, Klink asked her to get General Burkhalter on the phone. As he waited in his office, he prayed that the Gestapo agent would forget about the incident and his camp, or just concentrate on the scientist's odd behavior.It takes all kinds, he told himself. The phone rang.
"General Burkhalter, how nice to speak with you.
"Yes, I will get on with it." Klink coughed. "The scientist that you sent…well, you see…
"You do see. You heard."
Klink held the phone away from his ear. Is that laughter?
"General, are you laughing? Of course, you never laugh.
"He's been picked up and taken for treatment? I think that is wise.
"No, I assure you, the building was secure. There is no way anyone could have broken into the hut." Klink made a mental note to have someone check the doors and windows.
"Yes, while the high command has no issues with the number 13, perhaps I should revisit the numbering problem. But General Burkhalter, each time I have tried…Yes, I will try again. Absolutely." Klink grabbed a pencil and in frustration snapped it in two."And let me assure you that we are always prepared to receive your visitors."
"Thank you, Heil Hitler."
Klink replaced the receiver and headed to the door. "Helga, I'm going to my quarters to rest for a bit. Send someone for me in an hour. And then, I'm afraid we have some work to do…again."
In his haste, Klink forgot about ordering someone to check the shed, although by that time, Newkirk had broken into the unguarded building and locked the window from the inside. At this point, there was no sign of any unauthorized entry.
Later that afternoon, Maddock followed Schultz to the Kommandant's office. Upon entering the room, he saluted and then spoke. "You wanted to see me about the work detail, Kommandant. I already have a list drawn up." He handed it to Klink.
"Very efficient, Maddock. Thank you." Klink glanced at the list. "Newkirk and LeBeau?"
"I promise they will be no trouble, sir," Maddock said. "It will do them some good to work."
"Hmmm. Yes, it would, I'm sure." Klink stroked his chin, and examined the rest of the list. "I do not know the rest of these men very well, which means they haven't been in any trouble. That is good. Schultz, any issues with the men on the list?"
"No, Kommandant."
"Nevertheless, I don't want any problems. This will be a large detail and a large project. I wanted to warn you that it could take all day. If this goes well, the prisoners will be rewarded," Klink said. "And I expect you to supervise." He leaned back in his chair.
"That's very generous of you, sir. Am I dismissed?" Maddock asked, wondering how he would get out of watching the work party.
"Yes. You may go."
Maddock saluted and then turned back. "Sir, may I speak freely?"
Klink sat up. "What is it?"
"We couldn't help but hear what happened on the compound. That scientist, sir. Was he really blaming the number 13 for whatever happened to his experiment?"
Klink stood up. "A German scientist is concerned with a silly number?" Klink chuckled. "That could be considered an insult, Sergeant. What exactly are you implying?" His eyes narrowed.
Maddock gulped, shocked at how brazen he had just been. "I apologize, sir. Well, I'm just saying. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for something that wasn't your fault. What was that machine supposed to do anyway?"
"It was a …" Klink stopped. "Why would I get in trouble? And I am not telling you what it was."
"Hopefully, the Gestapo officer won't complain. You know, I bet the machine was faulty. Complaining about the number 13." Maddock began to laugh. "He has triskaidekaphobia."
"Triska what?" Klink asked.
"Fear of the number 13." Maddock replied. "Juvenile if you asked me."
Schultz, who had been standing quietly by the door, stepped forward. "If the Fuhrer has a problem with the number 13, they would not have assigned that number to any camps. Would they, Kommandant?"
"You know, Schultz. You're absolutely right."
"Does this mean they'll be no more machines brought into camp," Maddock asked hopefully.
"Disssmiissed!" Klink yelled.
Schultz followed Maddock out. "Naughty, naughty," he said as he wagged his finger at the MOC.