Chapter 5

'How's Maisie doing?' Carter asked quietly, as Newkirk emerged from the colonel's room, carrying a plate with an untouched sandwich on it.

'No change.' Newkirk replied wearily, as he took a seat at the table, passing her uneaten lunch to Carter to eat. He rested his head in his hands. 'I just bloody well don't know what to do.'

'She hasn't eaten for three days.' LeBeau interjected, his voice filled with concern. 'She's gotta eat.'

'I know, Louis, I know.'

'She's grieving hard.' Kinch added, glancing sadly to the closed door. 'She's going to make herself sick if she keeps it up much longer.'

'What am I to do?' He asked, looking up at the radioman. 'I've tried bloody everything. I'm just not Colonel Hogan, and that is who she needs, not me.'

'I could try-' Carter offered apprehensively. 'I mean, it couldn't hurt, could it?'

Newkirk shook his head. 'You'd only make it worse. She's already in a bad way as it is. If you go in there and start crying, you'll only set her off again.'

'I'll keep it together.' He replied firmly. 'That's my little friend in there, you can't stop me from seeing her.'

He sighed heavily. 'No, I can't, but you've been warned.'

'Who knows, I might even be able to get her to eat her lunch, too.' Picking up her plate, Carter stood and went to the colonel's room, knocking on the door softly before he opened it. He walked in and closed the door behind himself, going over to the bottom bunk where Maisie was curled up, still holding onto Hogan's jacket.

'Hey, little sis.' He sat down beside her, placing the plate down on the floor. 'Can you open your eyes for me, Maisie?'

Maisie looked at him, her eyes glassy and bloodshot. 'Oh, Carter,' she said, almost inaudible. She sat up after a moment, but with Hogan's jacket still in her arms. 'How are you?'

'I'm alright-' He picked at a loose thread on the blanket. 'But I'm worried about you. How are you?'

Fresh tears came to her eyes as she rubbed her cheek against the collar of the jacket. 'I just can't believe he's gone. I don't want to believe it-' Her voice broke, and she had to pause before she continued. 'I just pray it's a bad dream that I'll wake up from and Papa is alright, but I know it's not a dream. It's a nightmare.'

Carter placed his arm around her, and she snuggled up to him. 'I know. I keep expecting him to come through the door... ' He looked down at the colonel's jacket, noticing the blood stains had disappeared. 'Did you clean his jacket?'

Maisie nodded. 'I couldn't leave it the way it was. In some small way I felt cleaning it was the last thing I could do for him.' Her lip trembled again, and she looked up at the sergeant. 'Why did Papa have to die? Why?'

'I don't know, pumpkin. I keep trying to find an answer to that myself.'

'Why would he have tried to escape from the Gestapo? Papa was too smart to take that much of a chance. It doesn't make sense, it isn't right.'

'I don't know.' He repeated softly. He'd been wondering the exact same thing. Colonel Hogan did take risks, but attempting to escape from the Gestapo was just an insane idea, even for him.

'I just miss him so much-' She continued, with a heartbroken whimper. 'This was what I was afraid of, of losing him. Now he's gone, he's really gone.'

He held her tighter to him as she began to sob softly again, rubbing her back gently. 'He's not gone as long as we keep his memory alive. He'll always be with you. He'll be with all of us in our hearts and minds.'

Maisie nodded and wiped her cheeks, getting her emotions in check once more. 'I don't want him in my heart, I want him in my arms. Colonel Hogan was the closest to a father that I ever had. I miss him so much.'

'I know you do, I know.' His eyes were watering as he swallowed the lump in his throat. 'I miss him, too.'

'We can't even have a funeral for him. No way of saying a proper 'goodbye'.'

He thought for a moment, wondering why he hadn't thought of it before. 'We might not be able to have a funeral, but we could have a memorial for him. What do you think?'

'I think it'd be a good idea.' She replied, after a moment. 'We need to do something. We can't just forget him.'

'We'll never forget him, pumpkin, but at least he'll have a proper send off.'

'Would you ask Newkirk?'

'On one condition.'

Maisie raised an eyebrow. 'Condition?'

'That you eat at least some of your lunch.'

She sighed heavily. 'I'm not hungry.'

'You might not be, but what do you think Colonel Hogan would say if he knew you weren't eating.'

A slight smile graced her lips at the thought that came to mind. 'He'd have quite a few things to say.'

'He definitely would.'

'Alright-' She sighed again. 'I'll have some of the sandwich.'

Carter picked up the plate and handed it to her. 'I'll go speak to Newkirk, and you eat all of that sandwich, alright?'

Maisie nodded sadly, nibbling gingerly at the white bread. 'Okay.'

'That's a girl-' He smiled, patting her shoulder as he stood up. He left her and returned to the barracks, the men at the table looking up as he closed the door behind himself.

'Any luck?' Newkirk asked.

'She's eating her lunch now.' Carter replied, as he took a seat at the table again. 'I guess that's something.'

Kinch placed his hand on his shoulder. 'That's definitely something.'

'How'd you do it?' Newkirk questioned, rather surprised at the turn of events.

'Made a deal with her. If she ate her lunch, I'd talk to you about a memorial for Colonel Hogan.'

LeBeau placed his empty plate on the pile and nodded. 'I think a memorial is the least we can do. What do you think, Pierre?'

'I think it's a good idea.' He agreed, after a moment. 'I'll go have a word with Klink.'

The morning of the memorial dawned bright and cheerful, yet at the camp, the mood was sober and solemn. Klink had agreed to a memorial being held in honor of Colonel Hogan, allowing the prisoners access to the announcement system for their service so everyone could hear. In the three days preparation they had before the memorial, Hogan's men had been hard at work to ensure they gave their commander the send off he deserved. In that timeframe, a small stage had been built in the center of the compound, and they were in the process of decorating it with flowers and wreaths they'd sourced from the camp gardens and nearby farms. Nestled in the flowers was a picture of Hogan, his portrait of him in his Class A uniform after his promotion to colonel.

I wish I could be out there helping, Maisie thought to herself, a tear rolling down her cheek as she watched from the window of Hogan's room. She couldn't be, though. Newkirk had promised since she couldn't be there in person that they would hold a private memorial for him in the barracks later that afternoon that she could participate in. I don't want to believe that he's gone.

She turned from the window and crawled back onto the bunk, Hogan's jacket still in her arms. It was hard to believe that a week had already slipped by since his passing, yet she was still in deep disbelief and denial that he was really gone. Somehow, seeing the men preparing the memorial, made it feel heartbreakingly real. Colonel Hogan's gone.

Burying her face in his jacket, she closed her eyes, trying to visualize Hogan as she knew him and not a picture of him lying dead where they'd shot him. The Colonel Hogan she knew was full of life, always a smile on his face and a kind word to say. In his arms she'd felt safe. He'd been her anchor and her rock after she'd lost her Uncle and his family. Now what did she have?

Carter's voice rang out over the loudspeaker, running a sound check before the memorial started. Yes, she had her big brother. She had Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau, but it just wasn't the same. Try as they may, they couldn't take his place. She knew they were doing their best to help her try and get through this difficult time, but nothing they did or said could fill the hole in her heart.

I wish there was something I could do for the service.

Newkirk had asked her if she wanted to write a speech or a poem to be read out, but she declined. She couldn't express in simple words how much he meant to her. What he had done for her. He'd saved her life, he had helped her see that life continued after death. That life went on after someone you loved passed away. What now, though? What was she to do now?

Outside, she could hear the sound of many footsteps marching by and guessed that the prisoners had started to assemble for the memorial. After they had passed, she rose from the bunk and returned to her post at the window, watching as more men began gathering in the center of the camp. Somehow, it began to feel real, now. That he was really gone.

She watched on in silence, tears trickling down her cheeks as Klink opened the service with a few words, then handed it to Newkirk. No, no, it's not real, she tried to convince herself, hearing a song they'd chosen being played over the announcement system. He's not gone, he's not...he is.

The service continued on, Maisie clutching Hogan's jacket close to her heart as tears poured down her face. It just felt like a nightmare she wished to wake up from, but she couldn't. Fresh tears came to her eyes as she listened to Carter's speech, the sergeant unable to finish, and Kinch rose to the stage to take over for him, his arm around Carter. Seeing her brother crying set her off in a new bout of sobbing, and she turned away from the window. She just couldn't bear to watch the memorial alone any longer.

Her gaze fell upon the photos laid out on the table in the middle of the room, photos of Hogan that they'd chosen the picture for the memorial from. There was one there of him with his crew standing in front of their bomber, Goldilocks. Hand shaking, she picked it up, blinking away her tears so she could focus on the picture. He looked so happy in the photo.

I hope you fly high, Papa. You always loved flying, she thought, as her fingers brushed gently over the photograph. She remembered the mission she'd been allowed to tag along on. Hogan's birthday mission. They'd kidnapped the German officer who had shot Hogan down on his last bombing mission, then stole his plane and bombed the Germans' own refinery before sending him on to England. A sad smile crossed her lips at the bittersweet memories. He'd offered her a chance to go with them, a chance to experience what it felt like to fly. She loved every minute of it. Her eyes watered again as she saw Hogan in her mind, sitting in the pilot's seat. It was clear to anyone to see that was where he belonged. Where he shone. Seeing him so happy had made her happy, too.

The sound of LeBeau's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced back at the window as he started his speech. A tinge of regret tugged at her heart. She should have composed something for them to read out for her. It was the least that she could have done for the man who had given her so much.

'Maisie, may we come in?' LeBeau asked, peeking his head through Hogan's room door.

The teen looked up at him. 'Yeah.' She replied sadly, and Hogan's men walked into the room. 'It was a beautiful service. You all made Colonel Hogan proud.'

'I'm sorry you couldn't have been there with us.' Newkirk replied gently, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back to hand to her.

'It couldn't have been helped, though, I know.' Gingerly, she took the flowers, running her thumb over the petals of one of the cornflowers.

Kinch placed the framed photo of Colonel Hogan from the memorial on the top of the dresser. 'The men are gathering in the barracks to share some stories, if you wish to come join us.'

Maisie shook her head. 'I can't. I'll just stay here, if that's alright.'

'We understand.' Carter agreed sympathetically. 'I'll keep you company.'

'You don't have to do that. You should go join the others-'

'We're staying with you.' LeBeau interrupted gently.

Her eyes glistened with tears once more. 'Danke.'

'What would you like to do for our memorial for Colonel Hogan?' Newkirk questioned, after a moment.

'I have got something to share... It's not much but it's all I've been able to think of. My mind is just so messed up right now-' She felt Kinch place his hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a sad smile.

'Why don't you share it with us, then we'll exchange some stories, how does that sound?' The staff sergeant asked.

'Alright, but can we put these in some water first before they wilt?'

LeBeau took the bouquet with a nod. 'I'll go find them a vase.'

Maisie turned back to the notepad as he left, adding down the last couple lines to the song she'd composed, then back at Newkirk. 'What happens now? I mean, with him gone and the operation…'

'London will arrange for someone to take his place.' He replied. 'I don't know when they'll arrive, though.'

'What will happen to me?'

'You'll stay here. It was Colonel Hogan's request that I take over your care. I know I'm not the Colonel-' Newkirk replied gently, as he took a seat beside her. 'But I'll give it my best shot.'

Maisie smiled sadly. 'I know, and I appreciate it, Newkirk. I'll try not to be a burden on you.'

'You're not a burden, little mate.' He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. 'I know it's not going to be easy, but we'll all get through this if we stick together.'

'We're family now.' Carter agreed, sitting down opposite Newkrirk. 'You're my little sister.'

'Does that make Kinch 'Uncle Kinch', then?'

Kinch chuckled softly at her attempt at a joke. 'If you wish so, I guess.'

'How's this?' LeBeau questioned, returning with the flowers in a vase. 'I borrowed it from Klink.'

'It's perfect, thank you.' She replied, as she got up, taking the vase from him. Walking over to where she had placed Hogan's picture, she set the flowers down beside it. She lingered a moment, looking at Hogan's smiling face, then turned back to the men. 'Papa was the only one I'd sing for. I don't think any of you know that I like singing. I've never thought I've been very good at it, but Papa heard me singing one day, and after that, we'd often sing together.' Her voice broke a little, and she paused to rein in her emotions before she continued. 'Papa would sing me to sleep after a nightmare woke me up. It was just one of the little things that I love about him. Papa taught me this song Papa. I hope you enjoy it.'

Her voice shaky with emotion, she bravely started to sing We'll Meet Again.

By the time she'd finished there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

'Beautiful, Maisie.' LeBeau said softly, wiping his cheeks.

Newkirk placed his hand on her shoulder. 'I think Colonel Hogan would be proud of you. It was a beautiful and fitting tribute to him, little mate.'

She smiled sadly as she looked up at him. 'Danke.' Her gaze fell onto the photograph on the table and picked it up, running a finger over the smooth glass. 'It's just not fair. Why Papa, why did he have to die?'

'I don't know, little mate.' Newkirk replied, as the teen broke down, and he took her into his arms as she cried. Oh Maisie… he wished there was something he could do. Something he could say to ease her pain. He stroked her hair gently as the rest of Hogan's men gathered around, Carter coming to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'I don't know.'