The process of getting the Kommandant to authorise the construction of the ditch above the emergency tunnel followed the established routine: create the problem; make it Klink's problem; suggest a solution while refusing to take part in it.
In this instance, the problem was already there, a side benefit of Hogan's conversation with the Kommandant that morning. They just had to get Klink worried about it.
The rain had stopped by early afternoon, temporarily driven off by a brisk, icy wind which caused the little group of men standing in front of the delousing station to shiver and stamp their feet, as they examined the waterlogged ground. Any time the prisoners got together for serious discussion, the guards got suspicious; and it didn't take long for Schultz to come and investigate.
He tried to be covert about it, creeping around the side of the delousing station in order to eavesdrop, and Kinch had to work hard to ignore his presence. He raised his voice a little to make sure Schultz could hear him. "So let me get this straight, Joliffe. You're saying this isn't just from all the rain we've had."
Joliffe uttered a meditative grunt, and cocked an eye at him. "I've seen it happen before," he replied dourly. "Couple of days, there'll be enough water running down here to float the Kommandant's quarters clear to the coast."
A murmur of approval went round the half-dozen or so onlookers.
"And you're sure it's run-off from further up the slope?" asked Kinch, with a doubtful look at the puddle at his feet.
"It's run-off, all right. Take a closer look, you can see the ripples."
"Oh, yeah," said Kinch. "Hey, it's running fast, isn't it?"
Joliffe nodded. "I reckon unless something's done about it, the whole compound's going to be flooded by tomorrow."
He turned to gaze at the slope above the main gate. "Of course, it would be easy enough to divert the flow away from the camp," he added. "We could get it done in a day or two. If we wanted to help the Krauts out. Which we don't."
"No argument there, buddy," said Kinch. "Guess the best thing to do then is to go and pack up our stuff. If they decide to move us out, I want to be ready."
The prisoners dispersed, each man heading off on the same errand. At the door of Barracks 2, Kinch paused to look back. Sure enough, Schultz was hurrying towards the Kommandant's office. Kinch grinned, and went on inside, straight to Hogan's office.
"Phase one complete, Colonel," he reported. " I think Schultz bought it."
Hogan, sitting at the desk reading, nodded. "We'll give Klink half an hour, then I'll go and finish the job, if he doesn't send for me first. The boys still asleep?"
"Newkirk was awake when I came through."
"Good." Hogan put his book down, and went out into the barracks. Newkirk was indeed awake, and as Hogan emerged from his quarters, LeBeau sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"You look a whole lot better, Louis," remarked Kinch. "Sleep well?"
"Comme un loir," replied LeBeau indistinctly, as he slid out of his bunk and headed for the stove.
Hogan had gone to the bunk by the door. "How are you feeling?" he asked Newkirk in a low voice, so as not to disturb Carter's continuing slumber.
"Like someone dropped me from a plane, without a parachute," said Newkirk, in the same muted tone.
"Think you can manage a bit of paperwork? It's probably a good idea if you can write down as much as possible of what Hochstetter said last night, while it's still fresh in your memory," Hogan explained. "Then, if you're up to it, you and LeBeau can start work on outfitting Zauner and Irma. I want them ready to leave the at the earliest opportunity, and they'll need clothes."
Newkirk propped himself on his elbow, uttering a soft grunt at the discomfort it caused. "He won't be any trouble. We've always got a few civilian suits on hand, they just need to be fitted. But Irma's going to be a problem. We'll have to make everything from scratch. And I don't know if you thought of it, Colonel..." He hesitated, momentarily embarrassed. "She won't have any underthings, apart from what she arrived in, and those would be in a bit of a state, what with one thing and another. And I don't quite know how to set about it."
"Me, I have no idea, either," added LeBeau, bringing a mug of coffee for his English friend. "It would be much easier if she was younger, or older. But at that age..."
It was a situation they hadn't faced before, and Hogan, for once, was stumped. "Well...well, I guess..." He broke off, a worried frown developing between his eyebrows. "We'll just have to manage," he said at last. "I don't see us being able to get to Hammelburg to do some shopping, even if any of us knew what to get."
"It may not be that complicated, sir," Newkirk went on. "She's not particularly...well, she seems to be a bit of a late bloomer, if you know what I mean."
"Okay." Hogan cut the discussion short. "I'll come up with something. Let me think about it."
He straightened, stretching his shoulders muscles. "I'd better go down and have a talk to Zauner, if he's awake. Let Carter have his sleep out," he added, with a glance at the lower bunk. Carter was still fast asleep, his swollen nasal passages producing a faint whistling with each breath. Apart from the increasingly visible bruising he'd received during the ditching of the staff car, he looked okay.
"He was coughing again earlier," remarked Newkirk, getting into position for a cautious descent from the upper bunk. "Didn't sound good."
"That would be from all the water he sucked in when he was in the river," said LeBeau. "I will make him a tisane when he wakes up."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, LeBeau," sighed Newkirk. "Hasn't he suffered enough?"
LeBeau opened his mouth to protest, then bit it back, hushing himself with a finger over the lips.
"I'll put some honey in it," he whispered. "I have just a little, I was saving for a special occasion."
"Well, if this is a special occasion, remind me to stay away on your birthday, LeBeau," Kinch put in.
Hogan grinned, and headed for the tunnel.
He found Zauner awake, sitting on his own cot in the sleeping quarters, watching over his granddaughter who was sleeping as deeply as Carter, though much more quietly. Without speaking, Hogan sat beside the old man.
After a while, Zauner sighed. "My poor little girl," he said, his voice trembling.
"Yeah, I know," replied Hogan. "But stop blaming yourself. If I'd been in your shoes, I'd have made a run for it, too, floods or no floods."
He regarded the doctor keenly for a moment. Zauner looked tired, but he was already pulling up. If Irma turned out to be equally resilient, their chances of making it on the next stage of the journey would be much improved.
"What will happen to us now?" Zauner asked.
"You'll have to stay down here for a few days, until we can move you out. We'll provide you with money, clothes and documents, and the Underground will get you to the coast, where you'll be picked up and taken to England." Hogan turned his attention to the sleeping child. "In the meantime, we need to know anything Irma can tell us about what happened. I know it's a lot to ask, but for her own safety it's best if she's not the only one who knows where the SS were stashing that stuff."
"I understand," said the doctor slowly. "It will not be easy for her, but I will talk to her, and I am sure she will do her best."
"Good." Hogan pressed his lips together, thinking. "We might be able to get hold of a map of the area, if it'll make things easier. The Kommandant has a full set of military maps stored in his office. Can you tell me where Irma lived before all this happened?"
"In Kahlendorf, near the Austrian border," replied Zauner. "My son-in-law works at the water treatment plant there."
"Not so far away, then," murmured Hogan thoughtfully. But it was a hell of a long way from Leningrad, where the Amber Room had started its journey.
"It was agreed, when Irma came to me, that if anything should happen, her parents would make no attempt to reach her," Zauner went on. "We thought it best, in case they were being watched." He said no more, but the expression on his face told clearly how difficult the decision had been, and Hogan, who had never even contemplated having children of his own, was moved to wonder whether he would have been able to follow through on such a resolution.
He put his hand on Zauner's shoulder. "You did the right thing. Now you can let us handle it, okay?"
Zauner didn't reply, but he relaxed a little. Hogan stood up, and turned to leave; but stopped as something occurred to him.
"There's just one other thing," he said. "I'd almost forgotten it, there was so much going on last night. When we picked up Newkirk from the field hospital, the army doctor there mentioned some risk of infection, from being in the water. I don't know a lot about it, but he gave us a list of symptoms to watch out for. You and Irma are probably at just as much risk - perhaps more. Newkirk's got a pretty strong constitution."
"I know a little about such diseases," replied Zauner. "I was attached to an infantry unit in France during the last war, as a medical officer. There were a few outbreaks in the trenches. We found them very difficult to contain. Sometimes we were not even sure what was the cause - dirty water, or food poisoning, or influenza. The symptoms are not always clear."
"Well, if either you or Irma feel unwell at all, let me know." Hogan glanced at the girl. "How long would it normally take for someone to get sick?" he asked suddenly.
"Two or three days - maybe as much as a week." Zauner turned to him, his brow creasing. "Is something wrong, Colonel?"
Hogan hesitated before he spoke. "Carter's had a cough since last night. It could just be all the water he breathed in has caused some irritation, but..."
Zauner nodded. "I would not expect any symptoms as early as this, but it's possible. There was an epidemic back then, we never determined the source. It began with a cough, aching muscles, chills or fever, then a rash. My superior was certain it came from the water in the trenches. It was not a serious illness, most men recovered quickly with rest. But this may be something different."
"Or it may be nothing." Hogan took a deep breath. "Anything we can do?"
Zauner shrugged. "I am sorry, Colonel. All you can do is watch him, and treat the symptoms as they appear. He seems a healthy young man, he has every chance."
It wasn't much consolation. If Carter had picked up something from the floodwater, then it wasn't looking good for Newkirk, whose longer exposure put him in even more danger. Even if those two had the reserve strength to meet a potentially catastrophic illness, the same could not be said for the old man and the young girl.
Only ten minutes ago, Hogan had thought he had things under control. But now he knew better. He wasn't even close.