Chapter 8:
The next 24 hours were anything but relaxing for Hogan's team. As soon as morning roll call was dismissed, the five person crew got down to business. Kinch and Kalina were in constant communication with Schnitzer and London regarding their furry animals request and practically stayed by the radio all day. Carter spent his entire day working on gadgets and contraptions to sabotage the kommandant's office and even went as far as 'borrowing' one of Krump's uniforms to wash in an itching powder bleach solution for extra efforts. He even dunked the major's hat in it to go the extra mile.
Come nightfall was when things really got busy. While Kinch sneaked out of camp to grab his requested airdrop from London, Newkirk and LeBeau snuck into the kommandant's office to set up Carter's traps, and Hogan met with the three Allied officers after slipping a sleeping pill into the night guard's brandy Schultz brought him.
"Now, when you hear dogs beginning to bark, you guys will crawl out through that window and meet up with a man named Sergeant Olsen, who will be waiting for you by the barbed wire fence on the far east side of camp. He'll cut the wires during the chaos, and you guys will follow the route highlighted on the map I gave you," Hogan instructed. "You'll then arrive at the spot where our underground contact will meet you, and he'll get you to the coast where a submarine will be waiting for you. After that, you should be back in London by the night after tomorrow. That'll depend on how rough the channel currents are."
"But Colonel, how will we break out the window?" USAAF Major Forrester, the leader of the three man crew, asked. "With those bars blocking the way, there's no way we will be able to get out."
Hogan wagged his finger at the three officers. "Watch this," he said, then made his way to the cell window. He reached up, tugged on the two outer bars a few times, then pulled the frame out of the window, leaving a small exit big enough for the three prisoners to sneak out of. "One of our sabotaged cells in here. We constantly use this window to sneak out of camp and go on assignments when we need a diversion."
"By George, that's absolutely smashing," RAF Captain Dawkins gasped, his eyes glued to the hidden exit. "How did you ever come up with such an idea?"
Hogan smirked. "Trust me; you need to always be one step ahead of these Krauts in this kind of business."
"And you're sure that guard will stay asleep during this entire thing," Forrester said, pointing behind him to the sleeping Luftwaffe corporal outside the cell.
"By how much medicine I gave him, he'll be out cold for the next 24 hours. Won't even notice you guys are missing until it's too late," Hogan answered, climbing back down the hidden entrance into the underground tunnel network.
Forrester shook his head, a baffled grin coming to his face. "Colonel, how can we ever thank you for this?"
"Easy," Hogan said, grabbing the lid to the tunnel's entrance. "Don't come dropping by for another visit anytime soon." He gave the three officers a wave 'goodbye', then closed the entrance and made his way back to barracks two.
It was around 1:00 a.m. when Newkirk and LeBeau finished up in the kommandant's office. They proceeded to the guard's quarters, where they took every issued rifle and sabotaged each one. Some they poured water and other liquids in the barrel, some they put confetti in, and others were random objects that the corporals would find amusing to be fired out in the incoming chaos that would come by morning. Once all the rifles were tampered with, Newkirk handed one firearm at a time to LeBeau, who placed the correct one back in its designated cubby.
"A tampered rifle for you," LeBeau said, sliding Langenscheidt's rifle back into its cubby. "A tampered rifle for you, oh look who's getting another tampered rifle: everybody."
By 9:00 that morning, Krump had half of the guards barging into his office in full blown fury, yelling and hollering at him how either their rifle would not fire bullets or fire anything at all. And as another group of livid guards stormed into the office, Krump, who was scratching his arms and legs uncontrollably, felt the color drain from his face and his heart begin to pound against his chest. It was not even noon yet, and Stalag 13 was already in disarray. His guards had dysfunctional guns, he could not find any of his paperwork, and Schultz had spent the last hour and a half trying to get his top desk drawer unstuck. The fluffy sergeant was still fussing with it as the new group came barreling in.
"Oh no," he whimpered to himself. He was yelled and hollered at for another ten seconds before Krump screamed over all of them. "QUIET!" He pointed at a sergeant, who was opening his mouth to say something. "Put a boot in it, shorty!"
The sergeant crossed his arms in a huff and glared at his new commanding officer down, while the major made his attention back to Schultz and felt his temper rising again. "Damn it, Sergeant, what is going on with that desk?!"
"Herr Kommandant, I keep trying to pull on the handle, but every time I do a jack-in-the-box pops out of the pencil cup," Schultz reportedly frantically, then demonstrated. He tugged hard on the desk handle, and both men watched as a small clown bounced up from the pencil cup and began playing the well-known jingle while it wiggled around.
Krump stared at the clown with his jaw hanging down for several seconds before coming out of shock and returning his attention to Schultz, scratching his back and hips furiously. "Can't you just unlock the damn thing or something?" He asked, sounding more like a demand.
Schultz closed his eyes and shook his head. "Oh, only Kommandant Klink knew where the key to this drawer was. I have tried everything, Herr Kommandant," he said.
"Have you tried this?" Krump grabbed his swagger stick and whacked the desk handle hard enough that it broke off and fell to the floor with a loud 'clang'. He narrowed his eyes as his skin became a light shade of pink and looked at Schultz again. "Dummkopf, you broke it!" Krump hollered, then whacked the sergeant on the helmet with the stick, causing Schultz to give a short yelp then gawked back at the major and grumbled obscenities in his direction.
Krump returned his attention to his guards, who were again yelling at him for their sabotaged guns, when the office door slammed open, and fuming Captain Gruber stormed his way through the crowd until he was before the new kommandant. "Kommandant, you think this is some funny kind of game?" He spat.
"Captain Gruber," Krump said, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you still doing here? I thought you were leaving for your sister's wedding."
"So was I, and I now have 45 minutes left to get to the airport before my plane takes off for Cologne because of your outrageous little joke of yours!"
"Joke, I don't understand," Krump answered, shaking his head in confusion.
"I get halfway to the airport, stop at a checkpoint, and hand the Gestapo sergeant there my papers to leave camp. And this is what I hand him instead?!" Gruber shoved the paper to Krump, who took it and felt his eyes widen to the size of saucers when he saw Gruber's papers were actually a picture of a naked lady. He looked back at the captain and flushed with embarrassment.
"Captain Gruber, I apologize immensely for this mix up. I have no idea how this got replaced with your leave papers."
"I don't want any apologies; just get me new papers now!" Gruber yelled, not giving a damn for insubordination at that point. His baby sister was getting married tomorrow in Hamburg, and he was about to miss her big day when he was supposed to walk her down the aisle.
"Say no more. I will write you a new pass right away, Captain. You will not miss Erika's wedding, I promise you." The kommandant began frantically searching his desk for his notepad of pass papers. Finding it nowhere on his desktop, he slowly made his gaze to the top desk drawer. He took his swagger stick and again banged on it in hopes of it flying open, but to no avail. He returned his eyes to his outraged adjutant and swallowed a large lump forming in his throat. "Captain Gruber, at the moment, it seems that I have misplaced it." He slowly darted his gaze from Gruber, who was about to explode like a volcano, then furiously started scratching his arm again.
Once the first part of Hogan's plan had become a success, the colonel gathered in the telephone room with his team and prepared for the next part. Newkirk sat at the machine table, while Carter, LeBeau, Kinch, and Kalina all circled around Hogan, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Plan A complete," he reported, with satisfaction.
"Plan B, get Klink and Burkhalter here," LeBeau said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
"And make it good," Hogan said. "The more outrageous the situation, the better."
"Call Burkhalter's private line, too," Kinch added. "That oughta really get him and Klink stirring."
"I'm on it, mate," Newkirk said, flicking a few switches and handing the microphone to Hogan. He requested Burkhalter's private line in Berlin, and the group waited for the burly general to answer.
Meanwhile, in Berlin, Burkhalter and Klink gathered in his office with four other generals as they sipped on brandy and welcomed Klink to the general staff. Nothing but laughs went around the room as they gave the new Luftwaffe general their congratulations and exchanged funny stories with one another during their time as generals. Klink, who wore his cap and brand new general's uniform, sat in one of Burkhalter's office chairs as another general by the name of Hammerschmidt was telling of a time where he was invited to have dinner with Hitler and a few members of his staff.
"So, the Reichsfuhrer says to Hans, "Who's Dietrich?"
All six generals began busting their sides laughing, Klink placing a hand on his belly from his insides hurting so much. "General Hammerschmidt, you just made that story up," he said, once regaining control of his breathing.
"Nothing but the God given truth, Wilhelm," Hammerschmidt answered. "I saw it with my own two eyes."
"Yes, and you also claim to see women drooling over you everywhere you go, yet it has yet to be confirmed by anyone other than you," another general, Martens, teased. The room was again filled with laughter, when the sound of a telephone ringing brought everyone's attention to Burkhalter's desk. Finding it to be his private line, the six generals furrowed their eyebrows in confusion and turned to look at one another.
"Albert, your private line is ringing. So early in the day?" Hammerschmidt asked, weary.
"Awful odd for someone to be calling you on that telephone isn't it?" Martens added.
"Extremely odd," Burkhalter said, and handed his drink to Hammerschmidt. "Excuse me, gentlemen." He made his way to his desk and towards the phone that sat beside a bookshelf in the back of the room. Burkhalter picked up the phone and placed the receiver to his ear. "General Burkhalter speaking," he said. Within three seconds, the general's eyes nearly fell out of his head, and he straightened his position as his face became flushed red. "HOGAN! What are you doing calling from the kommandant's phone?" He bellowed.
"Hogan?" Klink repeated, his blue eyes widening with horror. What was his past Senior POW Officer doing calling his commanding officer's private line. Was something wrong in camp? Was it Kalina? The idea of his baby girl being in trouble made his inner radar go off, and he rose to his feet before joining Burkhalter's side. The older general put the phone in between them so they could both hear the American on the other end.
"General Burkhalter! You and Kommandant Klink need to get here right away. This place is a nightmare from Hell, we need you guys," Hogan cried, his voice sounding as if a wildfire had just broken loose through camp.
Klink sighed, immediately thinking it was just a plan of his daughter's to get him to come back again. He shook his head. "Hogan, whatever it is, I'm sure Major Krump can take care of it. Now please, I'm terribly busy here."
Hogan proceeded to put the microphone in Newkirk's direction, who was holding a cup of water in his hand.
"Help! Help! The water's up to my neck. Losing. Air. Fast." Newkirk cried. He then took a gulp of water and gargled as if he had finally submerged into a pool of rushing water.
"There's a flood at Stalag 13?" Burkhalter gasped, while Klink's mouth began to hang from its hinges.
Kinch then dropped the needle on a record player sitting on a nearby table. As the sound of an elephant blowing its trunk began to play throughout the tunnel, LeBeau screamed for help. "Help, help! Put me down, you beast! Colonel, he has me by the leg!"
"There's elephants in my camp?" Klink asked, his nerves beginning to rage with anxiety. His blue eyes dilated to the point his blue irises were almost completely hidden.
"Papa, help! There's an angry riot running in the compound. Schultz, look out!" Kalina shouted, then threw a large tea pot onto the ground to create a loud shatter sound.
"My baby needs me," Klink said, his paternal instincts now on full red alert. "Hang in there, baby. Papa's coming!" Without a second to spare, he raced to the coat rack and pulled on his new general's jacket, Burkhalter soon joining his side and doing the same.
"I'm sorry we have to leave like this, Rudolf," Burkhalter said to Hammerschmidt. He proceeded to put his officer's cap on. "We will have to chat like this some other time."
"Of course, Albert. Please, go as you must," Hammerschmidt answered, with a nod.
"Klink," Burkhalter said, turning to his now equal. "We are off."
"Jawohl, Herr General. Right away, Herr General." Klink replied, swinging his riding crop underneath his left arm. Not looking back, both generals stormed out of Burkhalter's office and soon disappeared down the stairs. Within seconds, they were both gone.