Chapter 36
LeBeau held the bowl of broth he had prepared for the Colonel, and stood outside the officer's quarters. He knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again but louder. He still got no response. With a deep breath, LeBeau turned the doorknob, quietly opened the door, and looked in the room. Hogan lay on his side facing the window, staring into space. He didn't acknowledge the Frenchman's entrance into the room, nor the closing of the door.
"I prepared some broth for you, mon Colonel," LeBeau explained his eyes on Hogan. "You did not eat breakfast or lunch, and I thought you might be hungry." Hogan did not respond. "Please Colonel, you have to eat something. You will make yourself ill." Again there was no response. LeBeau apprehensively took a few steps closer until he stood beside the bed. "I will leave it here for you. That way, you can eat it later." He sat the bowl on the desk and turned to find Hogan's eyes focused on him.
LeBeau crouched down and brought his face close to Hogan's. "You are hurting, Colonel. Your pain is our pain. Just remember you can lean on us. We are here for you." With Hogan not responding to his words, LeBeau bit his lower lip and shook his head in dismay. He got to his feet and walked to the door. He paused and looked back at his commanding officer. Before him was a broken man, a man who had lost his way. Not the strong confident leader he was accustom to seeing. The Frenchman smiled affectionately at his commander. "Mon Colonel, you are, how do you Americans say, lost in the darkness right now. If you let us help you, we will guide you back into the daylight."
Hogan didn't utter a single word. Instead, he shifted his eyes away from LeBeau and back to the empty chair in front of him with a sad expression.
Once he realized he wouldn't be getting an answer from Hogan, LeBeau shook his head again and quietly left the room.
After dinner, LeBeau entered his commanding officer's quarters, accompanied by Newkirk. When they emerged from the smaller room, LeBeau carried the bowl of broth, and Newkirk carried Hogan's jacket and crush cap. LeBeau dumped the bowl's contents in the sink.
"From your expression, I'm guessing the Colonel didn't touch his food," said Kinch watching LeBeau wash the bowl. He had seen the Frenchman's disheartened expression.
"Non," LeBeau replied not looking at the radioman. "He has not eaten anything all day. All he did is watch us when we came in his room. He didn't even say anything when Pierre took his jacket and cap. He continued to stare at us with a blank expression the entire time we were there."
"I tell ya, Kinch," Newkirk began. "It breaks me heart seein' the Gov'nor like this. I just hope he comes out of it soon." He looked around the barracks. "Where's Olsen?"
"He and Sergeant Wilkerson went to talk with Wilson," Kinch explained. He checked the time. "They should be here any minute." No sooner had he finished talking when the door opened and in walked Wilkerson followed by Olsen. Both men at once sensed something was wrong.
"What's happened?" asked Wilkerson.
"The Colonel did not touch the broth I prepared for him," LeBeau explained.
Wilkerson sighed. He had been afraid this might happen, but hoped he was wrong. He eyed the men. "We have to get food into him somehow. I'll talk to Wilson." He eyed Newkirk, Olsen, and LeBeau. "Meanwhile, Wilson has sedated both Toller and Dray so they'll both sleep for about eight hours. He told them he was giving them a pain killer instead. The Colonel will visit with them for about an hour, then return to the barracks."
"Gotcha," Newkirk nodded. "When do we start?"
Wilkerson checked the time. "Give me a few minutes head start. I'll head to Klink's office and keep him busy. Carter, remember, when I stand at the open window in Klink's office, that will be the signal. Newkirk, Olsen and LeBeau leave the barracks and head for the infirmary." He looked at the radioman. "Kinch, I need you to sit with the Colonel. Hopefully, there won't be any problems which will arouse suspicion. Good luck everybody." With a final glance, Wilkerson turned and left the barracks.
The minute the door closed, Carter went to the door and cracked it open. As he did so, Newkirk held up the leather jacket for Olsen. The Sergeant zipped it up half-way like Hogan. He sat the crush cap on his head and pushed it back. Olsen turned to Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch.
"Well?" he asked. "Think I'll fool Klink?"
"You could fool me own sister," Newkirk joked. "And I gave Mavis a description of the Gov'nor in one of me letters to her a while back."
Carter, smirking, looked at his best friend. "Didn't she write back saying she thought the Colonel sounded kinda cute from your description?"
"Shut your gob and wait for the signal," Newkirk growled while Olsen, Kinch, and LeBeau broke out in laughter. Carter turned back to the cracked open door. He was glad Newkirk hadn't seen the amused grin on his face.
Kinch got to his feet. "I'd better go sit with the Colonel in case he needs help. Good luck guys." He walked in the direction of the smaller room.
Klink was leaning back in his chair with both feet up on his desk. Instead of working on his paperwork, he was drooling over a photo of a woman in a bathing suit in Sexy Frauleins magazine. A knock on the door had him hastily shove the magazine in his middle desk drawer and sit up straight in his chair. "Come in," he ordered returning to his mountain of paperwork. He looked up when the door opened and Hilda stood inside the door.
"Sergeant Wilkerson is here, Herr Kommandant," she announced.
"Can't you tell I'm drowning in paperwork here," Klink complained. "I have no time right now. Tell him to come back later."
"He says it's about Colonel Hogan."
"Well don't leave the man standing out there waiting. Tell him to come right in, Fraulein Hilda."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Klink put down his pen as Wilkerson strode past Hilda and into his office. Hilda shut the door behind her leaving the two men alone. Klink and Wilkerson exchanged salutes.
"I understand you wanted to speak with me about Colonel Hogan, Sergeant?" Klink asked, looking at Wilkerson.
"Yes, sir. I know how concerned you are about the Colonel, sir. And I wanted to update you on his condition."
"That's good of you, Sergeant. How is Colonel Hogan?"
"A bit better, Kommandant. I believe he is beginning to accept that Lieutenant Carpenter is dead. But of course he still blames himself." Out of the corner of his eye, Wilkerson noticed the window was slightly open for which he was grateful. "I believe he will be all right in time."
"That's good to hear, Sergeant. Is there anything else I should know?"
"Yes, sir. Since I am the Acting Senior POW, I would like you to give me Lieutenant Carpenter's dog tags. I think in time I can convince the Colonel to write a condolence letter to the Lieutenant's family."
"I don't have a problem with that." Klink started to open his middle desk drawer. Not seeing the tags right away, a frown appeared on his face. He suspected they might be hidden beneath the magazine. At the same time, Wilkerson walked over to the window and opened it wider. He stared out at the few prisoners still out in the compound. If things were going according to plan, Carter would be watching and signal Olsen, Newkirk and LeBeau. "Ah, here they are," Klink replied reaching carefully beneath the magazine while trying to keep it hidden. He had no idea that Wilkerson knew about the Kommandant's fondness for the girlie magazines from Hogan and Schultz. "What's happening?" Klink asked holding the tags in his hand and closing the drawer. "Why are you looking out the window?"
Wilkerson looked back at Klink with a slight smile. "You won't believe this, Kommandant," he said. "But Colonel Hogan has left his barracks."
"Are you sure?" Klink asked getting to his feet and joining the Sergeant at the window. A faint smile appeared on Klink's face. "You're right. It is Hogan. But why are two men with him? And where is he going?"
"I think he might be heading to the infirmary, sir. We've been telling him Toller and Dray have been asking for him. But he was so guilt-ridden not being able to keep the Gestapo from taking them from camp, he couldn't face them."
"But that wasn't his fault," Klink explained. He knew how protective Hogan was of his men and they of him. Whenever something happened to one of his men, the American officer always blamed himself. "He would have been killed himself if he had continued to interfere with the Gestapo that day."
"He knows that, Colonel. But he still blames himself. LeBeau and Newkirk are with him as I thought it would be a good idea. In case he needed help or support, someone is with him. He's still somewhat shaky."
"Excellent idea, Sergeant." Klink turned away from the window, and dropped the tags into Wilkerson's hand. "Here are Lieutenant Carpenter's tags. Let me know when Colonel Hogan has written the Lieutenant's family."
"Yes, sir," Wilkerson replied closing his fingers over the tags. "But it might take a bit of time before he does and I don't want to push him. Pushing him could do more harm than good."
"I understand," Klink replied taking a final look at the three men before he closed the windows and turned the latch locking them. He walked back around his desk and sat down in his chair. "You're doing good work with Colonel Hogan, Sergeant. With your help and a bit of luck, Hogan could be back to himself soon."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you wish to know before I leave, Kommandant?"
"No. That will be all. Dissss-missssed." Klink and Wilkerson exchanged salutes before the Master Sergeant turned and started toward the door. Grabbing and turning the doorknob, he opened the door and started to leave.
"One moment, Sergeant."
Wilkerson paused and looked back. "Yes, sir?"
"I was thinking…." Klink tapped his pen against his jaw. "Would it be all right if I stopped by later this evening and visit Colonel Hogan?"
Wilkerson felt his heart stop beating at that moment. He did not expect the Kommandant's question and had to think quickly. He struggled to keep the panic off his face. "I wouldn't stop by this evening, Kommandant. In fact, I would give it a few days after he visits the infirmary. I can inform you when he's able to see people." He held his breath and hoped Klink bought his tale.
Klink let his pen rest against his jaw. "Hmmm. I certainly don't want to set back Colonel Hogan's recovery in any way. Very well, Sergeant. I will wait for you to tell me when it's all right to visit if you think that's best."
"I will, sir," Wilkerson exhaled and could feel his heart start again. He walked out of the office and closed the door letting Klink return to his paperwork or his magazine.
LeBeau, Newkirk, and Olsen all let out a deep breath once they realized they were out of sight of the Kommandantur.
"I can't believe we got away with it," Newkirk sighed with a shake of his head. "I thought we'd had it for sure." He looked at Olsen. "You all right, mate?"
"I will be," Olsen replied with a nervous smile.
"Uh oh," LeBeau warned.
"What now?" asked Newkirk.
"Strudel King at twelve o'clock," LeBeau explained. Newkirk and Olsen both stared.
"And he's seen us," Newkirk complained. "Blimey, and he's coming this way." He looked around calmly while his stomach was doing somersaults. "There's no bleedin' way to avoid 'im. Olsen, keep your head down and maybe we can pull it off."
"Guess we'll find out how much he wants to help the Colonel," LeBeau uttered.
Schultz spotted the trio right away and a wide smile appeared on his face at the man in the leather jacket. He hurried closer. "Colonel Hogan, I am so happy to…" he suddenly stopped talking as the trio hurried past him.
"No time to stop and chat, Schultzie," Newkirk grinned innocently. "The Gov'nor's in a bit of a hurry."
"Halt!" the large man bellowed causing the three men to freeze in their tracks. Schultz approached them. "About face!" The trio slowly turned and faced the guard with Olsen keeping his head bowed.
"Something wrong, Schultzie?" asked LeBeau innocently.
Schultz approached Olsen and looked at him closely. "Look at me," he ordered. Olsen reluctantly raised his head. The guard's eyes widened. "You are not Colonel Hogan. You are Sergeant Olsen."
Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged laughter. "Y'hear that, Louie? Ole Schultzie doesn't recognize Colonel Hogan when he sees 'im."
"You need to have your eyes checked," LeBeau chuckled. "This is Colonel Hogan. He only looks different because he has not been himself the last few days, that's all." He patted the guard's large stomach. "Come by later, mon ami. I will have some strudel for you."
The guard's eyes took on a dreamy look at the mention of his beloved apple strudel. But just as suddenly, his face changed and he stared at the three men. "You are not talking to a Dummkopf. This is not Colonel Hogan." He shook a finger at Olsen. "You could be in big trouble for impersonating an officer. Shame on you." Schultz spotted one of the guards approaching from behind the men. "It is so good to see you up on your feet, Colonel Hogan," he said as the other guard came closer. "I hope this means you are feeling better." The other guard, a Private, passed the men by with barely a glance. Once he was out of hearing range, the three men looked at Schultz.
"Thanks for not giving us away, Schultz," Olsen replied.
"Don't thank me," Schultz told him. "Just be careful. You're only lucky that Private Mueller is a new man and only here a short time. How is Colonel Hogan?"
"Still the same," Newkirk explained. He and the others agreed to be careful how much to tell Schultz about Hogan's deteriorating condition.
"What do you intend to do now?" asked a worried Olsen.
"Where are you three going anyway?" asked the guard.
"Colonel Hogan is going to visit his two injured men in the infirmary," LeBeau explained.
"The infirmary? But…but…the two injured prisoners will know right away Olsen is not Colonel Hogan."
"Don't worry yourself 'bout that, mate. We've got it all under control."
A worried expression crossed the guard's face. "Do I want to know?" When the Englander started to reply, Schultz stopped him. "On second thought, I would rather not."
"Wise choice," LeBeau agreed.
"I think so," Schultz smirked. "Now, I must return to my post." He looked at LeBeau. "What time should I come by for the strudel, cockroach?"
LeBeau poked Schultz in his stomach. "Not to worry, Schultzie. You'll know."
With a contented sigh of the delicious treat to come later, the guard walked away and left the men looking at his receding back.
Klink was once again leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, the girly magazine in his hands. He ignored the phone when it rang figuring Hilda would answer it. But it continued to ring and ring. Klink grumbled and guessed his secretary was away from her desk. He sat upright in his chair and grabbed the receiver.
"Klink speaking," he answered, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He swallowed hard and shoved the magazine back in his desk drawer. "Oh, General Burkhalter." He chuckled nervously. "I beg your pardon, Herr General. What? Yes, sir. Shut up and listen."
"Klink, I haven't heard from you in several days about Colonel Hogan's behavior. Is there anything I should know?" Burkhalter asked.
"You'll be pleased to hear that I saw Colonel Hogan leaving his barracks earlier and going to the infirmary to visit his two injured men, sir."
"Did you speak with Hogan, Klink?"
"Speak with him, sir? Why would I need to speak with him?"
"Because, Dummkopf, how he acts and how he looks are two different things. Now did you speak with him at all?"
"No, sir. I only saw him."
"Klink, what am I going to do with you?"
Klink laughed nervously. "Well, sir, I might suggest a promotion?"
"Forget it. Things are tough enough for our side in this war. Now listen carefully, Klink. I want you to speak with Hogan. Find out if he is truly getting back to normal, and call me back later. I will be expecting your call."
"But, sir, Sergeant Wilkerson suggested I not visit Colonel Hogan for a few days after he visits the men in the infirmary, and I…"
"Are you disobeying the direct order of your superior officer?"
"No, sir. It's that Sergeant Wilkerson…"
"If I wanted the opinion of a prisoner, I would ask to speak with Sergeant Wilkerson. You will talk with Hogan yourself and report back to me or I can have you in Stalingrad by morning. Understood?!"
Klink swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir," he stammered. He cringed when he heard the slamming of the phone on the other end before he hung up himself.