Cat in London

I have to make a disclaimer: Time travel makes you schizophrenic. I can think of no other reason why I would be so upset to go to London with Sergeant Olsen and Neinte while Jessica, Linda and Tuttle were chosen to be femme fatales in Nazi Germany. Really.

One part of me was saying "Shut up and thank your lucky stars! London won't be a picnic either!" while another part was saying, "What? I'm not attractive enough, or smart enough to be a part of Hogan's grand scheme?" I did speak some German, heck; I even lived in Germany for five and a half years when I was a kid! Maybe that was part of the problem. Colonel Hogan didn't really trust me here. Good thing I never mentioned the family Sunday drives to Berchtesgaden.

As for the other time-traveling females not knowing me well; I was still new to the Hogan's Heroes' writing fandom. If Stalag 13 was the Ponderosa and Hogan was Ben Cartwright this would be a whole different story. Oh! Well, duh! Maybe it was a good thing, I was being sent to London.

At least I kept my mouth shut as Colonel Hogan explained the escape route we were to take. I guess my questions even seemed intelligent as he didn't seem as annoyed when I asked them and actually answered them politely and non-condescendingly. Looking at the map, my heart did a quick jump that we were in Bavaria. I knew on the lists there was a discussion on where the camp was, but this was actual proof. Well, sadly we would not be going near any where I grew up.

The night we were leaving, Olsen checked to be sure we had our papers. Yes, we had our papers. I was Katrina Kraus. (Wonder if there was some sort of psychic thing going on there. It sure was close to my own real name!) Niente had become Isobel Adler.

We both had been outfitted in traveling suits and coats. Everyone seemed to think it was odd that neither of us had been dressed for the winter weather. I don't know how this time-traveling worked, but I'm not wearing a coat in D.C. in May!

Colonel Hogan wanted us to know: in case of any danger, Olsen would do the talking and we would obey any commands he made. I have no idea what would happen to us if we didn't follow orders, but I really didn't want to know either. Besides, I was still trying to figure out what I was lacking that made Colonel Hogan want us away from there. Maybe he thought I was a spy and then I knew what would happen if I didn't obey Olsen. I really should stop obsessing.

If we ever thought we were going off on holiday those thoughts were quickly put to rest and peacefully. Outside of Hammelburg, we spotted a woman being beaten by some uniformed men. I guess they were Gestapo, but they could have been older Hitler Jungend. It was a group of at least six. The woman was on the ground curled up in a fetal position and they were kicking her and hitting her. Niente and I were going to help, but Olsen pulled us away and for the first time I didn't see the happy-go-lucky fellow.

"No! My orders are to get you two to London safely. It doesn't matter what your feelings are right now. If Hogan and Jessica are right, we may save more than one woman. You are going to have to get used to the idea; we can't save everyone. No matter how much we want to, we just can't."

So we left. But, it struck me that could have been Jessica. Oh, I knew it wasn't but, you know how you meet some people and there's something about them that reminds you of someone else even though they really don't look like them? That was what upset me about the woman. She did remind me of Jessica. It also reminded me that Jessica, Linda and Tuttle were not just setting up house, they were living in danger. Real danger. Thankful we were going to London, I played the good soldier and followed orders and kept my mouth shut. The rare occasions we met someone on the road, Niente and I cleared our throats a lot and coughed. I was hoping that if anything was mispronounced anyone would just figure our colds had made it hard to talk properly.

There is very little to say about our trip. We slept in abandoned barns, woods sheds, etc. Well, not that I really slept, but, no run-ins with anyone; if we weren't scared for our lives, it would have been a rather fun adventure.

Olsen made sure we arrived on time to be met by the sub. How I'm not sure, but I am sure he was in contact with the underground during our adventure. Another reason I thought Colonel Hogan didn't trust me. I think my lack of sleep had a lot to answer for then and what came after.

Once on the English coast, we were met by some men from Military Intelligence who interrogated us on our way to London. First together, then separate, then together again. No matter how we told our story, I don't think they wanted to believe us. Finally, when we got to London, I thought we would be given a place to stay and then interrogated after we had some rest. Hah! We were taken straight to headquarters in some underground floor and were met by some high ranking officers. By this time, all three of us were tired. I was getting a headache, Niente looked very pale. I couldn't tell if she was ill, tired, or scared. Probably all three. Olsen was the only one who looked somewhat competent.

It was a mixed bag of officers: British and American, a couple of generals, a colonel, maybe lieutenant colonel or a major (I knew he had leaves on his shoulder, but I couldn't figure out if they were silver or gold) and a few other ranks I couldn't make out. Olsen was doing most of the talking now, while Niente kept very still. I was just getting angry. I was tired, hungry and they were being absolute bullies. The final straw was I thought they were going to start in on Niente because by this time she looked the weakest link.

I grabbed a pad of paper from a very astonished officer sitting nearby and wrote something on the pad. Dad was stationed in England during a part of the war and told some tales. Not many, as he worked with Military Intelligence (eventually at Bletchley Park) and couldn't say much even by the time I was born. I mean, most of the stuff at Bletchley Park didn't become unclassified until 1974! Hopefully, I remembered the stories correctly and they were more than just tales. Folding the paper, I passed it (or more like threw it at the American general).

Contemptuously, he took it and opened it up. Paling while he read it, he showed it to the other Allied officers there.

"Major Davis, show Sergeant Olsen and Miss Nenty out. We'll speak with Miss Ballou alone." Niente followed Olsen and the men out of the room. At least she'd have a chance to calm down.

"Where the hell did you get this information?" asked General Williams waving the paper under my nose.

I tried to keep eye contact and act calmly. I was beginning to get a huge headache. Maybe it was Karma getting back to me for the headache we gave Colonel Hogan.

"My dad," I answered simply. Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Angry generals are not a good thing: doesn't matter if you're a civilian or not. Especially when all the officers seemed to tower over me.

"Your father? Who is he?" Now I was sure this wasn't such a good idea. The man was going absolutely apoplectic.

Taking a big gulp and saying a quick prayer, "Sorry, sir. I had a good childhood and I don't want to ruin it." Seeing his eyes get bigger, I quickly added, "I mean, if I was your daughter, could you promise you wouldn't treat me any different if you knew I would later travel back in time and meet you?"

"I don't have any daughters."

"Can you say that you will never have any in say 15-20 years time?"

Some men snickered, some looked concerned, and luckily, the general looked a bisschen calmer. Oh great, in the middle of WWII England, I'm finally beginning to think in German!

He looked at me for a while then finally answered. "No. If I believe in all this time-traveling nonsense, and I mean IF, what does Hogan want you to do here?"

"Sir! May I say something?" This was from one of the British officers. "We know Colonel Hogan has come up with some pretty bizarre plots. But, time travel?"

This started them all talking again at once. It seems that Papa Bear had told them something about the gold thingy, but expected us to fill in the rest once we got to London. Olsen did show them something that Jessica had on her, but, I guess they still needed more proof. I just sat in my chair holding my head while the argument kept on. I lifted my head when it was suggested by the British General that maybe someone else should now take over the command of the operation at Stalag 13 because it was now a more important operation.

"NO!" It was a little louder and more emphatic than I had intended. "We know Hogan and we trust him. We're not military and won't simply obey orders just because someone of a higher rank tells us." Yeah, I took a lot of liberties there. I didn't know if any of us actually trusted Hogan, well, I guess we did sorta. But, with my luck they would probably have put Crittendon in charge. Nope, you don't change a horse in the middle of a stream, so for better or worse we were stuck with Hogan.

I have no idea how long I was in that little room with the officers. They were arguing with each other, shooting questions at me about my father; about what I had written. I finally had to promise that I would never repeat what I had written, even though I told them it would be declassified by the 1970s. I don't know if any of them are still alive to read this, but, put your silly heads at rest gentlemen. I haven't told anyone.

Finally, they seemed to believe me. They decided that it would be better for us to stay in London with a small security force. Olsen would remain with Neinte and me and not return to his outfit as he would be returning to the camp.

"We'll let Hogan know he's got free rein with this… uh, project. You three will be liaisons with Papa Bear. We'll get you settled in quarters and you'll take over radio duty; overseen by our people of course."

"So, just what did you say to them to get them to believe all this?" Olsen asked m while we were leaving the interrogation room. He actually suggested I was blackmailing the Generals. If only.

Niente looked relieved and asked if we could visit a pub. I think we all needed a drink, but unfortunately we were herded to a Victorian house, in a street that had already lost houses to the bombing.

I don't really remember that first night much. Niente did all the cleaning and cooking as my head still was aching. Mavis Newkirk was apparently our guide. Yep, that Mavis.

I was able to sleep in as Niente had first go at radio duty. Mine was second. I think Mavis was slightly upset that she had been taken off duty for a bit. I kept wondering if she knew about her brother.

As I relieved Niente, she told me it had been quiet and no word from Papa Bear. Hopefully it would be quiet for me also. No such luck. The radio came alive and I heard, "Papa Bear calling Goldilocks, Papa Bear calling Goldilocks."

I was a bit muddled at first, but Mavis showed me how to work the radio to answer. I was actually looking forward to the radio. I had enough ham in me to make Gwaltney drool. As I had mentioned, my voice is distinctive and I've had many fun times on the phone. I always seem to get people to talk to me and give me more information than I expect. I practically knew the life story of the technician I called to help me set up my computer for DSL. Same thing happened when I called information when they actually had real people answering.

I think I wasn't fully recovered from lack of sleep because now I was foolishly cocky: "Yo! Papa Bear! Wassup?" The air was quiet for a few minutes until rather warily, Kinch answered, "Goldilocks?"

"Yeah, well, I'm with Goldilocks. Um, Puss in Boots here. Just tell Papa Bear that his three kittens have arrived and are safe and sound. Oh, and he's fully driving this baby buggy: Operation Tardis. He can thank me, personally, when we get back." Oh Lordy, no! Talk about a double entendre. "I mean he can say thank you and shake my hand. No personal thank you's needed. Honestly." Now, I'm insulting him… I hope he's not listening in…

"Operation Tardis, Puss?"

Oh yeah, there's the voice I recognize. Not Kinchloe's either. "Yes, it fits believe me. They'll know it." Hopefully, he'd know who the they were. Also, I was taking a chance that any of them knew what a Tardis was. But, Dr. Who has been on the air for at least 30 years, surely one of the group had caught it and knew I was referring to time travel!

Hey wait a minute, did I just call myself Puss in Boots? Thank heavens it was now a more "innocent" time when kids were still singing the Pussy Willow song or bemoaning Pussy in the Well, without any sniggers. Mrs. Slocomb could talk about her cat for hours on end and no one would think anything of it if she commented about her pussy-cat. Someone with a dirty mind has a lot to answer for.

Colonel Hogan did seem to recover, although I bet he was rethinking the wisdom of sending us to London. Or maybe he was thanking his lucky stars he was well away from us…

Anyway, it was apparently a "check-in" call along with request for supplies. He did ask if I knew anything about Byakugan although the radio had static at that time so it did take awhile before I realized he didn't want me to buy a cougar for him or to go around seducing young soldiers. I tell you if any Germans had been listening to that broadcast, they would have thought they tuned into a show on the BBC. He told me he'd let us know if there was any other information to be had. Hopefully, Olsen would take that call.