Chapter 36 – Redemption

"Come my dear. You need rest. You have been through quite a shock." Manfred moved to lift Katrin out of the chair.

Katrin shook her head, "Nein, Manfred. May I please stay?"

"You have been here for nearly eight hours! I must insist." He lifted her out of the chair and walked her over to the door. Astrid and Hogan were standing just outside the door. Manfred gave them an imperceptible nod.

Astrid stepped forward and took Katrin's arm. "Come mama. Let us go. You need rest."

Katrin nodded wearily. As she passed Hogan she reached out to him. "Herr Major?"

"Yes?" he held out a supportive hand. Katrin's strength was beginning to fade as the full import of the evening's events finally sank in.

"Herr Major, you are stationed at the stalag where Peter is a prisoner?"

"Yes ma'am. I am." Hogan inwardly smiled. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Please take good care of him Mein Herr. May I...may I be allowed write to him?"

Hogan looked over the top of her head at a tearful Astrid, who nodded. "Yes I do not see why you cannot write to him. Your daughter will see to it that your letters are delivered."

"Danke Mein Herr. Danke." Her eyes rolled back and closed as she suddenly slumped in a faint against Hogan, who grabbed her in his arms. Astrid and Manfred jumped forward to flank her and take her from him.

"Mama!"

"Katrin!" Manfred looked gratefully to Hogan. "Thank you Colonel. Astrid and I will take Katrin home now. She needs rest."

Hogan gestured towards Newkirk's room, "May I sit with the patient?"

Manfred nodded. "Yes. Please do. Your presence will help him. If he wakes up, please try to convince him that Katrin does not hate him."

"I will." Hogan cast an appraising glance at Manfred. "You've learned a bit more about our Englishman, haven't you?"

Manfred chuckled. "Ja. Our Peter does not realize his true worth."

Hogan nodded his agreement. "Thank you doctor, Astrid. Take good care of Katrin for us."

"We will. Take good care of Peter for us."

Hogan headed to Newkirk's room. The Englishman still slept so Hogan quietly took a seat beside his bed. He sat there until he found himself nodding off. He got up and walked over to the window to clear his head. As he stared at the night outside, a shaky voice wafted over from the bed.

"Cor I 'ad the worst nightmare. Please tell me it wasn't real."

Hogan rushed back to Newkirk's bedside. "Peter!"

Newkirk gently shook his head and blinked to get his eyes focused. "Gov? That you?"

"Yes. How're you feeling?"

"Bloody awful. Rotten and useless. I broke a lonely old woman's 'eart, didn't I? 'ow do ya think I should feel?" He reached over for the shaded spectacles and pulled them on. "She hates me, doesn't she?"

"Peter, why on earth would you think that?"

"Don't you hate people what lie to you?"

"Well if that's the case, then she should hate all of us. Besides, it wasn't a deliberate, hurtful lie. Everyone just got caught up in the circumstances. A lot of good did come of it."

Newkirk snorted, "Good? Gov, I can't tell ya 'ow I felt wi' 'er cryin' on me shoulder like 'er 'eart was breakin'." He hung his head down. "I wouldn't blame 'er if she never wanted to see or 'ear of me again, stupid useless git that I am."

Good God, Peter! Who damaged you so? Why do you think so little of yourself? Hogan took a deep breath and chose his words carefully.

"On the contrary Peter, Katrin wants stay in touch with you. She wants to write to you after you get back to the stalag. She asked my permission. And as an officer stationed at Stalag 13, I gladly gave it to her." He smiled and tilted his head as he looked Newkirk directly in his eyes. "Was that a lie? Should I be beating myself up over it?"

Newkirk's expression wavered as he digested that bit of news. "She…she wants to write…to me?"

"Why are you so surprised? She loves you like her own son Peter. You of all people should know that."

"But I'm not 'er son…she only treated me like that because she thought I was 'er son…" He lowered his head sadly.

"It doesn't matter to her Peter. She sees something in you that makes you deserving and worthy of her love. She wants to continue to give it to you, as if you were her own son. You're very fortunate, don't you think?"

"She…wants…to..?" Newkirk whispered to himself. "She wants me to be 'er son? She wants me?" He shook his head at the thought and a small smile graced his face. "Cor!"

Hogan shook his head and chuckled at Newkirk's soliloquy. He can't believe Katrin chooses to love him. He leaned down and put a hand on his corporal's shoulder. "Everyone deserves a mother's love Peter. Don't ever forget that. You are worth her love in her eyes."

Newkirk sighed and looked up at his commanding officer. "Thanks Gov. I had forgotten what it was like. Me mum's been gone a long time."

Hogan gently squeezed Newkirk's shoulder and stood back. "Well I've to get back to camp and try to snatch a little sleep before roll call. Why don't you try to get some rest as well? We'll be in touch, okay?"

"Yes sir." Newkirk yawned as he settled back into the bed. Hogan removed his shaded specs and began gently tucking the blanket around him. Newkirk was embarrassed and he snorted, "Blimey! Tucked in me bed by a full Colonel!"

"I won't tell if you don't!"

Newkirk snickered and closed his eyes. "G'night Gov. Tell the fellas Newkirk says 'ello."

Hogan finished arranging the blankets around his English corporal and then straightened up. "Will do. Get some rest so you can get back to the camp soon, you hear?"

There was no reply save for the sound of steady breathing and a few soft snores. Hogan dimmed the lights and quietly left.

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Newkirk slept extra late the next morning, exhausted by the previous evening's events. He stretched gingerly and slowly opened his eyes. He gasped as excruciating pain erupted directly behind the bridge of his nose. Caught off-guard by the debilitating pain, he immediately closed his eyes and buried his head face down into his pillow. Bloody Nora! Feels like me 'ead's 'bout ready to explode! He didn't know how long he lay there. He thought he heard someone walk into the room.

"Peter? What is wrong son?" Manfred's voice was sharp with concern.

"Me 'ead 'urts somethin' awful doc," he answered, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Turn over Peter. Let me examine you." Manfred placed a hand on Newkirk's shoulder and gently pulled. "Tell me what happened."

Newkirk reluctantly turned over onto his back, keeping his eyes closed. "I woke up and when I opened me eyes, me 'ead felt like it was gonna explode."

Manfred pulled the blind closed on the window and dimmed the lights as much as possible. "Peter, you must open your eyes so I may examine them."

"I'll try doc but…" he slowly opened his eyes and groaned with the renewed pain.

"I will be brief. I was expecting this to happen."

"You…were?" Newkirk's voice trembled as he tried to cope with the pain. Manfred quickly examined his eyes with the penlight, which did nothing to decrease the intensity of the pain. Quite the contrary, as Newkirk felt his stomach knotting up with nausea. He clamped his eyes shut and extended a shaking hand. "Doc, I'm…I'm…gonna…"

Manfred grabbed the basin under the bed just in time for the Englishman to empty the contents of his stomach into it, several times over. He groaned, retching with dry heaves before he finally finished. Manfred leaned him back onto the pillows, then brought him a glass of water and a wet cloth. "Thanks doc."

Manfred handed the shaded spectacles to Newkirk. "I think you understand now why you need to put these on before you open your eyes?"

Newkirk put them on and then nodded slowly, mindful of his still somewhat queasy stomach. "Yes sir. Very much so."

"You will need to wear them constantly for the first week or so. Then you will gradually decrease the time you wear them until you no longer require them. I will work up a schedule for you."

Newkirk nodded gratefully. "Makes sense doc. 'ow long until I won't need 'em?"

"It will be at least a month, perhaps a bit longer. Unfortunately, the headaches will persist until your eyes are completely back to normal."

"Wot? As bad as this one?" He certainly wasn't looking forward to puking his guts out on a regular basis.

"At first, yes. I am sorry Peter. The headaches will gradually decrease in severity as the nerves heal and your sight becomes stronger."

Newkirk sighed heavily. "I suppose I can't really be too narked about it then, given the alternative."

"Ja. It will improve with time. You must be patient."

"Sorry doc. Patience ain't me strong suit as me mates'll be the first to tell ya."

Manfred nodded knowingly. "Sometimes we are forced to acquire the qualities we lack through adversity."

Newkirk stared at Manfred in mock astonishment. "Cor doc! Yer startin' to sound like the Colonel!"

"I will take that as a compliment Peter," chuckled Manfred. "Try to rest a bit and then we will see about getting you something to eat, ja?"

"Sure doc. Me stomach is a bit of empty right about now."

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Manfred contacted Hogan via Astrid's radio later than afternoon to advise him to make plans for Newkirk's return to Stalag 13.

"Are you sure he's ready to come back Doctor?" Hogan was skeptical.

"He will be in a day or so Colonel. However, I must insist that he spend at least the first week in the infirmary under Sergeant Wilson's capable care. He is beginning to experience severe, debilitating headaches. Unfortunately, this is a normal part of the recovery process." Manfred cleared his throat. "Do I have your permission to contact Oberst Klink on this matter?"

Hogan paused. "Yes doctor, go ahead."

"Danke Colonel. Oh Colonel, may I inquire as to Peter's state of mind last night?"

"He was convinced that Katrin wanted nothing to do with him. He thought she hated him for lying to her."

"Lying?" Manfred sighed. "Oh Peter..."

"Yeah," agreed Hogan. "I set him straight. He was surprised and happy to find out Katrin still wanted him."

"I believe they need each other now more than ever."

"Agreed doctor. Katrin will get the opportunity to spend at least one more day with him, right?"

"Ja Colonel. I will make sure of it."

"Thanks doc. For everything."