This is very, very, very short, but I wanted to get something posted because it might take a week before I can post again! There will be a little bit of a caper as we wrap up.
FUSSY, CHAPTER 34: LE BILIEUX REVIENT (Return of the Worrywart)
Breakfast was over, and Colonel Hogan was sipping his morning coffee at the barracks room table as LeBeau and Newkirk squabbled. Things were returning to normal if these two were arguing, Hogan thought with a smile.
The topic was the selection of uniforms for the night's mission. They had a simple enough job ahead of them, and it was a way to get Newkirk back into the swing of things. Hogan, dressed as a Heer colonel, was to meet an established contact, Red Rover, at the Hauserhof. LeBeau and Newkirk were to go as his aides, both lieutenants. One of them would excuse himself from the table to pick up a package containing important intelligence, while the other would remain at Hogan's side as a lookout.
They knew what to expect: The package contained an intelligence report on the Heer's development of Rheintochter, a surface-to-air missile. Rheintochter was one of the worst kept secrets of the war and the Allies already knew the specifications, but Red Rover had gotten his hands on the results of 82 test firings, which were of intense interest. Anytime they were carrying things they shouldn't have, Hogan wanted Newkirk present. His aptitude for sleight of hand and quick thinking had kept objects and information safe more than once.
This morning, Newkirk was uncharacteristically focused on the uniforms. He took meticulous care of the clothing in his costume shop, but never worried, trusting in his craftsmanship. However, he hadn't set foot inside it since his illness reached a crescendo more than three weeks earlier.
He was gesturing at LeBeau. "There was a tear in the trouser leg of your Heer uniform, don't you remember? You c-c-caught it on the fence when we were dodging that patrol."
"That was weeks ago, Pierre. We patched it up and I've worn it since then," LeBeau replied patiently.
"Patched it how? What does that mean? And who's we?"
"Sergeant Scanlan stitched it. I didn't have time to…"
"Scanlan stitched it? Why didn't you just take it to the zoo and let Freddie do it? Scanlan isn't a tailor."
"It's not that complicated! Nobody will see it!"
"What if they do? Uniforms have to be mended properly, even in Nazi Germany! Did he use interfacing?"
"What's that?"
Newkirk let out an exasperated sigh.
"You need a fusible interfacing to strengthen the fabric after a tear like that. You can't just stitch over it like you're a six-year-old who got into Granny's sewing basket. That tear was lengthwise on the grain, but it was starting to pull horizontally against the welt pocket and, and, well, what if someone caught you with a badly mended uniform, LeBeau? They might realize…"
"Pierre, really?" LeBeau gave a skeptical look at his friend. "You're giving them much too much credit. Uniforms get damaged in wartime. They get repaired on the fly."
"The Krauts are perfectionists," Newkirk began.
"No, you're a perfectionist," LeBeau replied. "It's fine. If they arrest me, it won't be because of my uniform."
"Louis!" Newkirk was about to launch a protest when Hogan put down his coffee mug and cleared his throat. Both men turned to him.
"It's OK. Newkirk, go check the uniform. If you're not happy with it, repair it. You have time, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir, I do," Newkirk replied. "It d-doesn't take long to fix it properly, but a slap-dash repair is no good." He was mumbling about appropriate thread weights and overlocking techniques as he pressed the panel that controlled the bunkbed entrance and slipped out of sight.
LeBeau shook his head in exasperation. He'd endured a great deal of Newkirk in recent weeks without complaint, but now his patience was wearing thin. "Imbécile," he said in frustration. "There's nothing wrong with that uniform."
"He's not worried about the uniform. He's worried about you," Hogan said.
LeBeau dropped his head into his hand. "Of course he is. But there is nothing to worry about. I don't need him fussing over me."
"Yes, but he needs to fuss over you," Hogan said softly. "Think about it, LeBeau. He's been knocked down really low. When he couldn't take care of himself, you took care of him and showed the rest of us how. Feeling like he has to take care of other people is how Newkirk takes charge of himself again. It's a good sign."
LeBeau pushed out a breath and then laughed in surrender. "Il est un véritable emmerdeur, mais c'est mon fils. I liked it when he was too weak to argue."
"It was a nice change of pace," Hogan snickered. "But it's time to let Newkirk be Newkirk."
Rheintochter was a real missile development project, named for the Rhine maidens in Wagner's epic Niebelungenleid. The tests were conducted in August 1943. By February 1945, plans for this much-feared missile were abandoned. LeBeau says in French, "He's a real pain in the ass, but that's my boy." Freddie, of course, was Newkirk's chimpanzee friend from the episode Monkey Business, who now lives at the Hammelburg Zoo.