"Colonel Hogan…" LeBeau called softly, peering around the edge of the door of the guard's barracks.
Hogan had been faithfully watching over the 'ailing' Sergeant Schultz for the past hour or so, listening to the man happily snoring away. The doctor's visit had been brief, resulting in twenty-four hours rest for Schultz and a big meal as soon as he awakened.
Shocked that he was getting a reprieve and extra food instead of a court martial or a one way ticket east, Schultz spent five minutes quietly thanking the colonel over and over again before he drifted off. The barracks were empty but for the sergeant. The senior POW officer had spent the time pacing, waiting and worrying.
The minute LeBeau popped his head in, Hogan was on his feet again.
"Give me good news-"
"They are hurt. Badly." LeBeau said, not wasting time, and wishing he could have reported anything else. "Newkirk said that they were attacked by Hitler Youth, they beat up Pierre and shot Andrew, but they didn't get the maps or the film."
"Where are they now?"
"At the railroad cut. Kinch is with them and they have the emergency supplies."
Hogan swore angrily under his breath. "We can't get to them until dark and we can't leave them there until then, either. You said they don't have the film or the maps?"
"Oui. Newkirk said he tossed it before they were attacked."
Hogan paced, agitated, trying to put together a jigsaw that had pieces from three other puzzles mixed in. When the pieces finally started forming a picture a minute or so later he felt some of the pressure in his chest subside.
"Alright, we have a few hours to play with but I can't leave the camp or Klink will get wise. I'll stall evening roll call as much as I can. Get Olsen and Wilson into Luftwaffe uniforms, give them medical corp badges, mustaches and glasses, and get them outside the gates double time."
"Oui, colonel, but-"
"They're medical officers, transferring important but wounded prisoners and their truck broke down. They need one of Klink's trucks to get the prisoners and a place to put them up overnight."
LeBeau paled a little and fidgeted. "I got a look at them, Colonel. They looked very bad…and they had someone else with them."
Hogan's eyes narrowed, afraid to ask. "Who..?"
"She was about this tall." LeBeau said putting out his hand a few feet from the floor.
That came as surprise and suddenly Hogan had another reason for wanting his men to survive. Not just because he couldn't afford to lose them, or because he cared about his insane little band, but because he wanted a damn good explanation for why they were once more bringing pets into camp.
"What is 'she'? A dog, another chimp?"
"A little girl." LeBeau said with mild consternation.
"Oh…good we're kidnapping children now. Nevermind. We'll discuss that later. Get Wilson and Olsen moving."
The Frenchman gave him a hasty nod then ducked back out the door, crossing the compound.
Hogan went back to pacing trying to figure out how Newkirk and Carter could have attracted the attention of the Hitler Youth of all people. They were smarter than that, he thought, and better liars. They'd had a good cover story and the mission shouldn't have taken that long.
It was more dangerous during the day but they'd needed the light, and the advance time to get the information off to London.
That thought prompted him to realize that they had a courier dropping into camp that night that would be risking his life for no reason. Hogan didn't want anymore blood on his hands than he already had and ducked out of the sergeant's barracks heading across the compound. By the time he passed the kommandantur he was in time to run into Klink who was reporting to the gate himself to investigate the two strangers.
"Commandant Klink, is there anything I can help you with today, sir?" Hogan asked, stalling the colonel as the gates to the camp opened behind him. "You know I was just in with Schultz, and I gotta tell you he doesn't look good."
"That's very distressing." Klink said then tried to step around Hogan, but found the man in his path a second time.
"I really think you should visit with him, sir. He must be a sick man to have collapsed the way he did. I think it would really perk him up."
"Some other time, Hogan, please. I have duties to attend to."
Behind them the gates had closed again, the two medical officers pointing toward the motor pool as they argued with the guards.
"Alright sir, but remember, never save for tomorrow what you could have done today."
"Yes, thank you, Colonel for your, once more, unsolicited advice." Klink snapped, finally making it around the senior POW in time to watch a truck drive toward the other gates, Langenscheidt running his way to report.
Hogan watched the conversation from a distance, nodding his approval when Klink finally turned back to his office disappointed, then ducked into Barrack 2.
"They made it out, Colonel."
"I know, LeBeau you did a great job. But we gotta call off that courier drop for tonight." Hogan said brushing past the Frenchman to toggle the release for the tunnel entrance. The ladder swung down as Hogan said, "Head down and get the radio warmed up. I'll go find Baker and send him down with you. Contact London and let them know the mission is scrubbed."
"Shouldn't we ask them to drop medical supplies instead, Colonel?"
After a moment of thought Hogan nodded. "Find out what they can send us."
When the truck pulled into camp Hogan made sure Klink was busy inside his office, arguing the merits of allowing the prisoners to put in a vegetable garden.
While Kilnk was against the project, claiming it was a means for the prisoners to use the tools to dig tunnels. Hogan vehemently disagreed, siting Schultz's hunger collapse as evidence that even the guards were being starved to death in the camp.
"If the prisoners starve all they can do is complain, but if the guards starve they might desert. Without guards you won't have much of a prison camp, Colonel."
"Please Hogan, I know what the doctor said. But can you really expect me to believe that Schultz fainted because he is starving?"
"For a big man, Schultz has a fast metabolism, Colonel. It takes a lot of food to get a big man like that through a day."
"I don't know why I'm discussing this with you. You're not a doctor."
"No, but a good friend of mine was back in the states. He was a diet doctor, and worked with all those skinny starlets in Hollywood."
Hogan knew he'd roped the commandant in as Klink's eyes got brighter and his mouth dropped open. He kept the conversation going until he spotted the truck heading back for the motor pool.
Faster than ever before Hogan managed to wrap up the conversation, and get permission for the vegetable garden, with just enough time to leave the office and intercept Wilson and Olsen before they 'reported' to the commandant.
"Nevermind that." Hogan said. "He's in there dreaming about Hollywood starlets and rutabagas. How are the boys?"
Wilson gave him a look that he didn't like at all and Hogan told them to lead the way, following them into the rec hall that was now a temporary triage area.
Even before he walked in he could smell a faint whiff of copper, the stink of iodine, and felt sick. Carter had been laid out on his stomach on one of the long tables, the top of the borrowed coveralls and his shirt cut away to reveal the wound.
Blood was seeping slowly from a lateral wound on his shoulder blade. The hole wasn't very big, but the bullet shard had gone deep, the path visible via the bruising on his back. The whole area was already red with the start of an infection.
"Ah Carter..." Hogan sighed then looked for his other man. Newkirk was seated backward on one of the chairs, situated so that he could easily see the American sergeant. His shirt had been removed, his chest and back a mess of forming bruises. One area on his back was bright white in the middle, then scarlet, orange, purple, blue and black. Newkirk's eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, his nostrils stuffed with cotton, and his nose twice the normal size.
Seated directly in front of the Englander was the little girl. Her chair had been pushed against the back of Newkirk's and she sat wrapped in a blanket, cross legged on the wooden seat staring dumbfounded at a rag doll one of the men must have produced for her.
She didn't know what to do with it, it seemed, and sat tugging at each of the strands of yarn that made up the doll's hair, not hard enough to rip them out but perhaps curious as to why they were there.
As soon as Wilson and Olsen had stepped into the building they'd begun pulling off the Luftwaffe uniforms and started the process of washing their hands in the hot water that had been put on the stove prior to their arrival. Hogan watched the ritual, feeling helpless.
"Anything I can do?" He asked, waiting as Wilson glanced around him cataloguing tools and supplies.
"Everything's here, we just need a lotta luck right now." Wilson said, shaking his head.
Hogan nodded and stepped out of the way pulling a chair up near Newkirk and watching as the man rested a hand on the little girl's shoulder. The hand remained as Hogan sat down, drawing the girl's startled attention for a moment before she settled her cheek against the Brit's hand and once more relaxed.
"She's jumpy." Hogan said softly.
"She doesn't like strangers, sir. But she's a good judge of character. Took to me, Carter and Kinch right away."
"Where is Kinch?"
"Wilson sent him after some additional supplies." Newkirk responded then rested his forehead against the arm he had slung over the back of the chair.
"Up to telling me what happened?"
"As long as I can do it with me head down, sir." The Brit's muffled voice filtered through the cotton in his nose.
Hogan smirked slightly and said, "Don't take this the wrong way, Newkirk, but at the moment I prefer you that way."
Newkirk raised his head just enough to peer at the colonel over his shoulder, then sparked a tired but appreciative grin. He moved the hand that rested on the girl's shoulder and ruffled the fuzz on her head fondly before he said, "First of all I don't know who this fluff ball is or where she come from. She just appeared in the train yards and followed Carter and I out of Hammelburg. We were too focused on dragging ourselves out of Dodge to tell her to scram."
Hogan considered the little girl, unable to deny that she was cute, if unwashed, and far more acceptable as a potential resident of Stalag 13 than a talkative, overly energetic child might have been. "As long as we don't have an angry mama bear coming around to look for her, we can keep baby bear for the time being." he allowed.
Newkirk closed his eyes and his head once more rested wearily on his forearm. "The operation wasn't too bad until a gang of Hitler-Jugend with nothing to do but roust little old ladies, started eyeballin me and Carter. When we took a scarper they tagged us into an alley and caught me pullin' off me dress."
Hogan raised a brow at the corporal's phrasing but didn't say anything, noticing suddenly that he was the intent focus of two small brown eyes.
"I bet they found that peculiar." Hogan said, unable to look away from the dirty face.
"Took offense they did. Called me a Nancy." Newkirk took a shallow breath prepared to continue, but when he looked up he noticed that the little one had once more started a staring contest.
"She's waitin' for you to smile, Colonel. It's how she decides to trust people or not."
Hogan frowned, then parted his lips in an awkward grimace.
"Nah, sir, it's gotta be natural." Newkirk chided. "Here..." As he had with Carter and Kinch, Newkirk poked a finger against the gold writing on the colonel's bomber jacket and said, "This is the gov'na. Colonel..Robert...Hogan." He said, pointing at the words. "He's a nice man...for an officer. And he doesn't bite I promise."
Following Newkirk's lead the little girl stepped down from her chair leaving the doll and blanket behind, and poked at the lettering, leaning against the colonel's knee with one hand resting on his thigh, intent on the letters.
"Has she got a name?" Hogan asked quietly, as if afraid that talking any louder might break the spell.
"None so far. Hasn't spoken at all."
Without thinking Hogan found himself smiling as the girl continued to poke at his name, and when he grinned so did she.
"Ah...there you are, Colonel. Welcome to the club."
