Great Expectations

There were times when London's expectations surrounding the unsung heroes were so ludicrous that even those responsible for transmitting mission briefings twitched their stiff upper lips.

This was one of those times.

The normally unflappable Colonel Wembley, a man who often justified Colonel Hogan's demands, glared at the young man seated on the other side of his desk.

"Ahem. Could you repeat yourself? I don't believe I've heard you correctly, Michaels."

"Very well." The SOE control officer took a sip of tea, admiring the Royal Albert pattern on the cup as he carefully placed it back on the saucer. Sloshing would not do. After all, there was a war on. "It is, my dear man, a double switch. Bring out the package. That would be Agent A, a well-trained operative. Replace the package with an identical package. That would be Agent B."

Wembley took a sip of his tea. Still holding the cup in his hand, he repeated what Michaels said. "Agent A?" he asked, staring blankly at a spot on the wall.

"Right. Let's call him Gustav. He is replaced by Agent B."

"Another Gustav?"

"Yes, indeed." Michaels leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. Gustav...That would be A….He has to report what he's discovered. We need to access that information."

Wembley was well aware of the chaos caused by Colonel Crittendon. And this plot sounded right up his alley. But that was unlikely. He knew Crittendon was back in Germany, taking up space in another POW camp. "I beg your pardon. But who ordered this operation?" The colonel was wary of asking the question, and he was terrified of the answer.

Mistaking the question for enthusiasm, Michaels puffed out his chest. "I'll take the credit, along with a few other chaps."

Wembley groaned inwardly. More men in charge of spies with no clue whatsoever of what they were doing. A prime example of class privilege in MI6 and the SOE.

"We have a plane ready to go," added Michaels.

Wembley opened his mouth to protest, but Michaels continued speaking.

"You'll need to inform your contact to meet the plane to pick up the package and instructions." Michaels leaned in closer to Wembley. "It will be splendid. Mark my words."

Wembley knew it was fortunate that Papa Bear's location was known to only a select few. He shuddered to think what would happen if these dolts knew Hogan was in a POW camp. After Michaels left, Wembley picked up his tea cup, and paused before taking a sip. He put it down, poured in some liquor and then drank. Wiping his moustache, he sighed and headed down to the radio room.

HhHhH

It all began innocently enough. Kinch took down the message and headed up top to relay the welcome news that their stretch of boredom was over.

Hogan assembled his main operatives around the command room table while the other residents looked on.

"What's the job?" Carter asked eagerly.

"A simple agent switch," Hogan answered. "Carter and Newkirk will meet the plane and bring the operative back here."

"Where's the old agent holed up then, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"Don't know the details. Instructions will be with the new agent."

"Makes sense," Kinch said. "Less we know the better."

Hogan nodded in agreement. "All I know is the agent has been embedded with someone fairly high up in the German chain of command. Maybe he's a servant."

"Twins?" LeBeau asked.

"Possible."

Carter and Newkirk went out that night to meet the plane. Carter heard the sound of the Lysander and gave Newkirk a tap on the shoulder. The corporal sent the prearranged signals and the plane landed in the clearing. The two took off on a run to meet the contact.

A man quickly exited and strode forward. He carried something covered with a blanket in his right hand.

"Gustav," he said, pushing his cargo towards Newkirk. As he did so, he handed Carter an envelope. "These are your orders."

"You're Gustav, mate?" Newkirk asked. "C'mon. We best be going."

"No. This is Gustav." The man shoved the package into Newkirk's outstretched hand. "Read the orders once you get back to wherever you're holed up. They're in code. It will all make sense. I think. Got to be going back. Good luck!"

And without another word, he climbed back into the plane, quickly closing he steps behind him.

HhHhH

"They're back," Kinch told Hogan a short while later.

"Good."

"Well, they have a package, but no man with them," Kinch stated.

Hogan raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"Don't know, sir. They're getting changed. I came right up to tell you."

LeBeau walked over and handed Kinch a mug of ersatz coffee. "They probably ran into a patrol, and it was too dangerous for the agent to leave the plane."

Kinch shrugged.

A few moments later, the bunk entrance opened. Carter and Newkirk climbed through and headed over to the table.

"You're not going to like this, Colonel." Newkirk plopped something on the table and then sighed as he slumped down into a chair.

Carter handed an envelope to Kinch. "Coded orders. They need to be deciphered," he said. "Wow. Just wow."

Sleeping men began to stir awake as Hogan approached the table and stared at the package brought back from the drop. Covered completely in a blanket, it was an odd rectangular shape about four feet high that peaked at the top.

He glanced at his two men and then with a flourish removed the blanket. The entire room gasped.

For once the colonel was speechless.

"They sent us a bird?" he finally asked.

"Well, technically, it's a parrot," Carter said.

"What am I supposed to do with a parrot?" Hogan squeaked.

"Orange sauce," said LeBeau who moseyed over to get a look.

Carter glared at the Frenchman, then frowned as he noticed that the parrot was looking more than a bit off.

He grabbed something out of his pocket. "Hey, little parrot, are you still alive?"

"Gosh, I hope so," Kinch stated nervously as he thumbed through the codebook. "He's obviously part of the plan." No one noticed as the radioman slunk into Hogan's office.

"I think it's a she. C'mon. Eat." The parrot remained still. "Oh, no. See they left this little lady in the dark-the whole trip over. I hope its okay." Carter poked his hand into the cage, offered a bit of a cracker, and then yelped.

"Hey. Don't bit the hand that's feeding you. How rude." He shook his hand and then held it up. "Ouch."

"Stop complaining. It's not bleeding. And it's Gustav. Doubt it's a bird." Newkirk held back a grin.

"Very funny." LeBeau, who did not care for birds, unless they were in the process of being cooked, stepped aside. Meanwhile, the other residents of the barracks stopped what they were doing and headed over to take a look.

"Polly want a cracker?" asked Mills. Squawk! He jumped back.

"Anyone here know anything about birds?" Hogan asked.

"My grandmother had a parrot once." Garlotti went up to the cage and stared at the animal. "Whadya say the name was? He asked Carter.

"Gustav." Carter answered.

"I'm not sure how to tell the sex of a parrot," Garlotti said. "It's not like other birds. They're all colorful."

"Well, the gender doesn't matter," Hogan replied. "What matters is what we're supposed to do with this." He looked around the room. Realizing Kinch had fled to his office, Hogan walked over there. "Kinch, what's the plan?"

"Give me a few more minutes, sir."

Kinch left the office and stopped by the sink. Holding out a piece of paper at arm's length, he waited for Hogan to retrieve the sheet. The colonel didn't ask. He walked over and grabbed the paper, and then moved to a quiet corner, leaving the men in the hut to watch the bird, which now seemed more animated.

Squawk!

Hogan gave a little start and then continued reading.

"Of all the hair-brained…"

"Shouldn't it be bird-brained?" LeBeau muttered.

"Whatever." Hogan moved over to the table and took a seat. "So, London wants us to remove a parrot from Generalleutnant Wolfram Pfeiffer's villa outside Hamelburg and replace it with this one." He drummed his fingers on the table. "He's new. Heard he moved into that villa a few months ago. Was originally stationed near the Polish border."

"Apparently, the parrot in the house was within hearing of meetings and calls and will divulge information." Hogan threw the papers in the air in frustration and watched as they floated down to the floor. He got up, gathered them, and tossed them in the stove.

"Did Crittendon put them up to this?" Carter asked Hogan. "Seems sorta like his style."

Hogan sighed. "No. this comes from an SOE control officer. Wembley coded the instructions. The last line was sorry old chap." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"If you ask me," Olsen interjected. "This sounds like something out of a weird spy novel or movie."

"Geez, Olsen. Our whole operation is something out of a weird spy novel. Or movie," Kinch emphasized. "What happens after we get the parrot?" Kinch knew Hogan well enough that no matter how ridiculous the plan was (after all, the colonel had come up with some humdingers on his own) he would try to follow his orders.

"We notify London," Hogan said. "They pick up the bird and take him back, where a trainer will hopefully get secrets out of him."

"I say we send this one back. This man wouldn't know the difference. This is just absurd. And dangerous for something that could blow up in our faces," Newkirk said.

"Not necessarily," Hogan admitted. "Since we have to go in anyway, maybe there is something much more useful in that house. And we have a sympathetic civilian embedded there. The housekeeper. Oh. and watch what you say in front of this thing."

Squawk!

This time Hogan jumped. "Take that bird down below, Kinch. Can't have this thing discovered by the guards."

"I uh…" Kinch stood frozen in fear.

Realizing Kinch was terrified of the bird, Hogan ordered someone else to take it down below. "Put it on the table by the cots," he said and then walked over to a now more relaxed sergeant.

"Phobia?" he asked Kinch. "Nothing to be ashamed of. I'm terrified of snakes." That elicited a few chuckles and snickers from the gallery, which Hogan silenced with a glare.

The sergeant let out a large sigh. Everyone stopped and listened while Kinch tried to explain. "You know the saying, after you get what you want, you don't want it?"

"Sure."

"Well, Colonel. One of my childhood friends had some pet birds. I thought they were beautiful. I begged my parents for one. I worked so hard at school. I did extra chores for the neighbors to make some money. Well, I did get one. Taught it a few phrases. But, it escaped when I was trying to clean out the cage, and flew all over the room. Its wings kept flapping and the noise….He shuddered at the memory. Scared the dickens out of my little sister. And me, sir. Hated them ever since."

"It will be out of our way soon," Hogan stated. "Okay. Let's get some ideas out there, men."

The plan, once they had one, was fairly simple.

LeBeau and Newkirk, dressed as two privates and driving a borrowed truck, stopped at the end of the driveway which led up to the villa.

"Delivery for the kitchen," Newkirk told the guard as he handed over forged papers.

The man looked at the paperwork. "Please exit the vehicle. We have to inspect the contents of the truck."

"Be our guest," Newkirk said as he and LeBeau exited the truck. LeBeau opened the back and stepped aside as the guards looked at the crates of food. Fortunately, there was nothing to hide.

"We didn't expect a delivery," said one of the guards.

"With General Kinchmeyer's compliments," LeBeau stated, thinking quickly.

"10 pounds of bananas!" exclaimed one of the guards.

"Yes. Don't ask where they came from." Newkirk lowered his voice. "The big shots get the good stuff while we get rations. He broke off a bunch. "Go on. Have some. They wouldn't miss it. We were told to let the housekeeper know about this."

The two men took the fruit and allowed the truck to pass and head to the servant's entrance in the back.

The housekeeper, a middle-aged woman alerted to the delivery by the guards, was waiting by the back door. The cook stood next to her.

"I didn't know we were expecting a delivery," the cook stated, confused.

"General Kinchmeyer's compliments," LeBeau said.

"Yes. I was told to expect this. I am Frau Blucher, the housekeeper. Thank you for delivering these items."

Newkirk and LeBeau nodded. They returned to the truck and brought in the boxes. While the cook exclaimed over the good fortune and was distracted, Newkirk approached the housekeeper.

"I beg your pardon. May we use the facilities to wash up before we're on our way?"

"Yes, of course. Walk this way."

The three left the kitchen and, seeing no one about, paused in a large hallway.

"Why are you here?" The housekeeper asked warily.

"Um. We have to make a switch. One agent for another. If you get my drift."

"The bird." LeBeau added.

"Gerta?"

"Ah, the he is a she." LeBeau shook his head. "We were told the name was Gustav," he said. "They want whatever intelligence he has to offer."

"That's absurd," said the housekeeper. "He'll know the difference. His one redeeming quality is a love for animals. Like you know who. Meaningless at this point if you ask me."

"Well, we are in agreement with you, Frau. But those were our orders," Newkirk emphasized.

She thought for a moment. "Come with me." She took the two down the long hallway and stopped near a room near the main entrance. "This is my office," she said as they walked inside. After closing the door, she continued. "The parrot is kept in the study, which is at the top of the stairs and to the right. I suppose it would have heard one end of some phone conversations, and been witness to several meetings. Stranger things can happen." She had a determined look on her face. "I'll do anything to see this regime fall. The general and the entire household will be out of the villa all day Wednesday. We're going up to his lake home to get it ready for a longer visit, and we won't go home till morning. That will give you until Thursday around 11 am to make the switch. But you'll have to get past the guards."

"We're resourceful," Newkirk told her.

She reached into her pocket. "Very well. Here is a key to the servant's entrance. Before you leave, put it in here." She walked over to a small desk and pulled out the top drawer. "Inside this box."

"Very well. Thank you."

"The villa will still have patrols. They're timed," she warned.

"We'll manage," Newkirk assured her.

She escorted Newkirk and LeBeau to the back entrance. "Thank you again, privates."

"Our pleasure, ma'am."

"Nice strapping young soldiers," said the cook. "Although I've never heard of this General Kinchmeyer, have you?"

"Briefly," replied the housekeeper. "I hear he is a remarkable man."

Newkirk and LeBeau drove back to Schnitzer's house, where they dropped off the truck. He then drove them back to the camp outskirts, but not before LeBeau grabbed a few bunch of bananas he had hidden in one of the false floors.

"For bananas foster," he grinned at Newkirk. "If you can steal me some rum."

"No worries, mate. No worries."

The next night, Newkirk and Carter made a dry run to check on the timing of the guard patrols. Several nights later, when they knew the residents were away, Hogan accompanied them to the villa. They parked a motor pool staff car in the woods surrounding the home, and shushing the bird every few meters, they quickly approached the edge of the property.

"He is big shot," Carter mentioned as they counted the patrols.

"Yes. And not a nice guy," Hogan reiterated. "Okay. Let's go. We have two minutes."

Squawk!

"Shhhhh!" Newkirk glared at the covered cage.

"Shut up. That's an order!" Hogan hissed in German. Surprisingly, the bird quieted down. "Remember to speak German in front of the bird," he whispered to his men.

Using the key, they opened the back door. After closing it behind them, they quietly and slowly moved out of the kitchen area to the stairs. Pausing to listen and then hearing nothing, they climbed the one flight and opened the door to the study.

As promised, both cages were identical. All they had to do was switch cages and leave. That was easier said than done. There was the uncomfortable fact that there were two cages in the study. A smaller one-identical to the one they had-was empty. Their quarry was in a much larger and nicer cage. One they probably put the bird in so he would be better entertained during his master's absence.

That was easier said than done.

The two birds, sensing one another's presence, made a racket.

Startled, Newkirk dropped Gerta's cage, which fortunately landed upright with a thump. He could have sworn he heard the bird say hello in German. Carter stepped back, tripped over an ottoman and Hogan reflexively drew his pistol. Between the squawking and flapping wings, the three couldn't hear themselves think. They took a moment to pick themselves up and calm down.

Hogan shined his flashlight into the large cage. "Carter, you grab Gerta 2 and hold onto it while Newkirk makes the switch."

"You mean I have to pick up the bird?"

"Oh, c'mon. Considering the danger we're in everyday, you're scared of a little parrot?"

If you think this is easy, why don't you do it? Newkirk then thought better of expressing his thoughts aloud.

Carter swallowed in fear. "I'm not sure what to do, Colonel. If she gets away we'll never catch her. It's not like a dog, where you can bribe them with food."

Squawk! The birds continued their racket. Gerta 1 came over to the edge of the cage, flapping its wings as if it were trying to communicate with the other parrot.

"I wonder if number 1 is a he instead of a she?" Newkirk picked up the smaller cage and held it out.

Why are there always complications? Hogan thought. He then snapped his fingers! "I've got it!"

A moment later, they brought the smaller cage as close to the bigger cage as possible. Like the moveable fence back at camp, the small cages had a door that moved up and down. They held it up against the large cage, as close to the latched door as possible. That door opened to the right. On the count of three, Hogan opened the door to the large cage, while Carter and Newkirk moved the door to the small cage, and to everyone's relief, shooed Gerta 2 into the cage with Gerta 1.

The two parrots looked like identical twins. "Make sure we know which one is which," Hogan reminded them. Three pairs of eyes watched closely as the two birds settled down.

"Aww," said Carter. "It's a shame to break up this happy couple."

"Unfortunately, we have our orders, as ridiculous as they sound," Hogan said.

The men waited for about a half hour for the two birds to eventually settle down, both finding comfortable perches as they dozed off.

"Okay. Bribery time." Carter opened the door to the large cage and held out pieces of a cut-up apple. "Psst," he muttered. "Hey, you two. Wake up."

Newkirk stood there, shaking his head at the absurdity of this picture.

Carter rattled the cage a bit. Gerta 1, the bird they needed to take back, was perched on the right. Both birds cocked their heads, hopped down off the perch and moved forward to get the food. Hogan, in turn, held out his hand on the left. His job was to push Gerta 2 back into the cage. He legitimately felt bad for the parrots.

He somehow managed to push it back into the cage, while Carter pushed the other one forward into the smaller cage they brought with them. Hogan turned his head. "Quick. Newkirk close the doors."

All three were both shocked and surprised to successfully make the switch. But the poor birds were clearly upset.

A thorough search of the study and the rest of the villa revealed nothing. "That's disappointing," Hogan said as he finished his search of the desk and waited for Newkirk to shut and lock the empty safe they found behind a picture. "Let's get out of here," he ordered. Sweating profusely, even though the villa was chilly, the three returned the key to the appropriate spot and hightailed it back to camp, Carter making soothing sounds to the passenger all the way home.

To everyone's consternation, London was not as excited as they had hoped once they notified them of the successful operation.

"We have to get rid of this animal," Hogan insisted. "We risked a lot on this ridiculous mission. And make this quick before our signal gets triangulated."

"I know," said Wembley, the man on the other end of the radio. "I'm truly sorry. The man who ordered this mission was promoted. We really would like the intelligence if you can try to get it. Much appreciated old chap. We can't spare a plane. And I doubt you want to escort a parrot to the North Sea."

"Intelligence! What intelligence?" Hogan's voice was an octave below screeching at this point. "The damn bird hasn't said anything since we got back. It's been two days. And we searched the villa, which was unoccupied. We couldn't even come up with a map."

Squawk!

Hogan no longer jumped.

"Please calm down and do what you can."

And that was why Wembley was a great control officer. He rolled with the punches.

"Fine, Goldilocks. We'll do what we can. Papa Bear out." Hogan looked up at the reinforced ceiling of the tunnel in a silent plea for patience. He glanced over at the cage. "What are you staring at?" He then asked the bird.

The parrot ruffled its feathers and stared back at its captor. Hogan picked up its cage, and in deference to Kinch's phobia, walked it down to the guest area. Tonight, one American sergeant occupied a bed.

"Evening, Colonel Hogan."

Hogan placed the cage on a small table. "How you faring, Meyer?"

"Getting better, sir." Meyer was the only man from his plane not captured or killed when it was shot down. He was nursing a wounded leg.

"Good. We'll send you on your way when our medic clears you. Could be a few days or a week."

"Appreciate everything." Meyer stood up and limped over to the cage. "This one still causing trouble?" The bird ignored him and pecked at some food.

"Well, we have no way to get him back for a debriefing." Hogan couldn't believe he just said those words. "So, we're stuck with him. Gerta 1."

"Or her."

"Yes, or her."

"I think it misses the other bird, sir."

"You're probably right." Hogan shrugged. "Ring the bell if you need anything. Kinch will be manning the radio down here and he'll help you out."

"Thank you, sir."

Hogan turned and began to leave the area.

There was a sound.

Hogan stopped. "Did you say something, Meyer?"

"No, Colonel Hogan. It was the bird. I don't speak German sir, but I think he said Rommel. And something else."

"Here." Hogan handed the wounded soldier some paper and a pencil. "Jot down everything this bird says. I'll be right back."

"Invasion. Calais!"

Squawk.

"Patton massive buildup. Dover."

"What does this mean, Colonel?" Meyer asked a few minutes later.

"Heck if I know. But we'll take everything down and send it along to London. Not my job to decipher it."

German speakers and animal lovers were now down in the tunnels 24/7. During roll call, Meyer wrote down anything and everything the parrot said. Fortunately, the bird spoke in words and not paragraphs, and most of the words were recognizable.

"Troop movements. Smashing." Newkirk grinned.

"I think they suspect the invasion will be in Calais. That makes sense, doesn't it?" Asked Carter. "Shortest distance."

"Would seem so," Newkirk replied. "Especially if they're massing troops in the Southeast, and sending Patton there."

"Well, they definitely need to know that. He keeps repeating the same stuff. I'll take these to Kinch," Carter said.

The parrot's words were transmitted to London as soon as possible. Eventually, the repetition was obvious, and Hogan felt it was time to wind down what he now dubbed operation birds-eyed view.

A fully recovered Meyer offered to escort the bird to the sub. Of course, that was not doable for multiple reasons. He bid a fond farewell to his avian roommate.

"I hope you can find a good home for it, sir. I think he's lonely."

"Will do, Meyer. Good luck."

Hogan watched Meyer climb up the ladder after Olsen, who would escort the sergeant to the next stop on the escape route. London was thrilled with the intelligence and their ingenuity.

"This magnificent creature deserves a decent life in a loving home," Hogan said to his team. "So, here's the plan."

"Good evening, Hauptmann. We've been expecting you," said the housekeeper. "And the general is in his study. Please follow me."

"Thank you." Hogan followed Frau Blucker up the stairs. Hogan gave her a slight nod and a quick smile, which she reciprocated.

The door to the study was open. "Generalleutnant. Hauptmann Ritter to see you." The frau waved Hogan in and stepped back.

"General, with General Kinchmeyer's compliments, sir. An acknowledgement for all of your service and hard work, and for your interest in animal causes." Hogan held out the cage.

"Welcome Hauptmann. And thank you. My, this is a beautiful creature. Amazing, the two could be twins," Pfeiffer stated as he walked around the cage.

"Yes. That is amazing," Hogan replied.

Sensing one another's presence, the two birds began to move around their cages, preening and talking.

"Well, let's get them introduced shall we?" Hogan said, anxious to get this over with.

The German general was clearly meant to take care of birds. Hogan watched as Pfeiffer easily coaxed Greta 1 into the larger cage.

"Care for some coffee, Hauptmann?" Pfeiffer asked after the birds settled down.

"Thank you for your kind invitation, sir. But I'm afraid I must be going. Important work. Invasion planning, you understand."

"Absolutely. Thank you, again. Give my regards to General Kinchmeyer. I hope we have the chance to meet in person one day. Frau Blucker, please escort our guests to the door."

At the main door. Hogan thanked the housekeeper. "Take care. You know how to reach someone if you need assistance?" he whispered in he ear.

"Indeed I do."

Hogan watched the brave woman close the door. Mission accomplished. We do get help in all shapes and sizes. And species. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the dogs. "Well, that's one way to kill two birds with one stone," he said as he drove away.

The end

WRITTEN IN A HURRY and not betaed. Please send me a message if you find any errors, or if I goofed anywhere.

I know nothing (like Schultz) about pet birds. But, I did have a situation. Quite a while ago, my daughter was pet-sitting our neighbor's birds. One small one did get out, and it was a frantic chase through the basement as we attempted to get it back in the cage. We did. Their parrots were scary. One of them was a rescue and was quite aggressive.

Frau Blucker was a character in Mel Brooks' brilliant movie, Young Frankenstein. Played to perfection by Cloris Leachman.

Hogan shares a fear of snakes with the famous hero, Indiana Jones, played by Harrison Ford.

While reading multiple non-fiction books on spies operating in Europe during the war, I was shocked to read about the rivalry between the SOE and MI6. And it was depressing to discover that, indeed, unqualified men were made control officers-their inexperience and other faults led to agents being captured, and cost lives.