Chapter 8

'Right, that's it. That's it!' Maisie exclaimed, with frustration as she marched out of Colonel Crittendon's office. 'I've had enough of him-'

'Hey, he's really got you in a tizz.' Carter interrupted, as he looked up from his cards. 'What's he done now that's got your feathers so ruffled?'

'Crittendon's just being…. Crittendon.' She huffly took a seat at the table beside him. 'He's driving me crazy.'

Lebeau chuckled, glancing over at them as he took a break from mending his shirt. 'He's only been here a week.'

'Longest week of my entire life! Margrieta, do this, Margrieta do that. Hurry up, Lass, we don't have all day-' She mimicked the colonel's voice with disdain. 'Well, I've had enough! I can't stand him a moment longer.'

'Margrieta, you've missed a spot-'

Maisie shot a look to the closed door where Crittendon's voice rang out from. 'Clean it yourself. I'm not your maid!'

The door opened, and the colonel stepped into the barracks. 'Oh dear, you are in a bad mood. Come now, chin up. There's work to be done.'

'Work to be done? I don't remember signing up to be your secretary Colonel.' She stood, marching on towards the bunk. 'And even though I didn't, I still quit!'

Crittendon frowned as the teen disappeared down the ladder, then looked at LeBeau and Carter. 'What did I say?'

Still fuming, Maisie made her way to the radio room, stopping at the doorway as Newkirk and Kinch spoke over the radio. Of all the- She folded her arms as she leaned against the wall. How dare he order me around! I'm not his servant, I'm not his maid or secretary, and I won't stand to be treated like one any longer!

He'd only been in camp for a week, but already the colonel had used up what little patience she had. For Newkirk's sake, she'd done her best to hold her tongue and not cause trouble, but today had just been the last straw. Last night, the men had gone out on a sabotage mission to stop a convoy that was heading their way on route to the Russian front. A mission that was simple enough for them to handle had it not been for the involvement of Colonel Crittendon. Not only had the mission been a failure due to his ineptness, but both Newkirk and LeBeau had almost been arrested by a German patrol. Luckily, this time, they had escaped unscathed, but they all were less than impressed with Hogan's replacement.

The general atmosphere of the camp hadn't improved either with the arrival of Colonel Crittendon. The only one that seemed to be happy with the new officer was Colonel Klink. They make a fine couple, both bumbling fools, she thought, then giggled a little. If for nothing else, Crittendon was good for a few laughs. He sure can't hold a candle to Papa.

'Roger that, Mama Bear. Goldilocks signing out.' Kinch turned off the radio, then looked back at Newkirk. 'London wants us to carry out a second attempt at stopping that convoy.'

Newkirk was less than impressed. 'Bloody brilliant. How exactly do they think we're going to pull that off now? With last night's little mishap, they're going to be doubling the guard.'

'Problems?' Maisie questioned, as she joined them, looking up at the Englander. 'I'm sure you'll think of something, Newkirk.'

'Glad someone thinks so.'

'What are you doing down here, anyway?' Kinch asked, as he placed his headset back in its place.

'Couldn't put up with that idiot any longer. I had to have a break. I know you want me to be respectful, Newkirk, but my patience is gone. I can't stand him.'

Newkirk placed his arm around her shoulders. 'You and me both, kiddo.'

'Surely London can send us someone else. I mean, how do they expect us to keep this operation running with him in charge?'

'There is no one else.' Kinch replied. 'We already asked.'

'Every bloody day this week.' Newkirk added.

'Can't we get him shipped out? I mean, we were doing just fine before he showed up.'

'No can do. Like it or not, Colonel Crittendon is in charge now, and he's staying.'

'If he's staying, then I'm going. I can't stay here any longer, he's driving me crazy.'

'Maisie-' Newkirk started.

She cut him off. 'No, Newkirk, my mind is made up. Since Papa's gone, this place has changed. It's not the same, and now with Crittendon…' She shook her head. 'You should have heard the things he said about Colonel Hogan.'

'What?' He questioned, his tone rising a note. 'What did he say?'

'That Papa wasn't a fit commanding officer because he let a girl on his team, in addition to other things I don't wish to repeat.'

'He said that?'

She nodded. 'And Colonel Hogan was a thousand times better of a colonel than Crittendon is. I can't stay here if Crittendon stays, I'm sorry.'

Newkirk sighed heavily. 'I'm sorry, Maisie. If there was something I could do…'

'It's not your fault. Honest. If Crittendon gets transferred out, I'll come back. But I just need to get away for a little while. With losing Papa and everything, dealing with him is just too much right now.'

'Where will you go?' Kinch asked, after a moment. 'You don't have anywhere you can go.'

'The Gustavssons will look after me for a few days. After that-' She shrugged. 'I don't know. I might try joining the resistance someplace else or stay around here… I just don't know, to be honest. With Papa gone, it's just not the same here. I don't want to leave, but I can't stay, either.'

'Maybe a few days away will do you some good. You know you're always welcome to come back.'

'I know, thank you Newkirk.' She started out of the room. 'I guess I'd better get packing.'

'May I come in?'

Maisie smiled as she looked up, nodding for Newkirk to join her. 'I hope you're not angry that I've decided to go away.'

'Of course not.' He assured her, taking a seat on one of the crates in the room. 'I'll let you in on a little secret. If I could leave, I'd be coming with you. You aren't the only one that's fed up with Crittendon.'

She giggled as she folded up one of her shirts to pack away in her bag. 'The only time you've been contemplating an escape, hey?'

'I think the entire camp is planning a mass escape just to get away from him.' Newkirk replied glumly.

'I'll be thinking of you while I'm nibbling on warm ginger cookies.'

'Thank you.'

The teen laughed as she stood, adding a few more things to her bag. 'You're always welcome to come visit while I'm with the Gustavssons. I know they won't mind.' Her gaze fell on the colonel's jacket lying in one of the wooden crates, her expression sobering as she ran her fingers over the leather. Tears came to her eyes, but she swallowed the lump in her throat. 'You'll take care of Papa's jacket, won't you?'

'Of course. We'll place it somewhere safe until we can send it back to his family.'

'Don't let Crittendon find out about it. He'll try and throw it out as trash.'

'If he tries, he'll have to go through me first.'

That brought a little smile to her lips. 'Papa would have had a fit if he knew that Crittendon broke his drumsticks. Least I was able to salvage most of his stuff.'

'It was bloody rude of him to do that. He deserved the little talk you gave him.'

Her smile widened. 'I'm sure nearly everyone in camp heard that 'little talk'. It's been the only time he was rendered speechless since he got here.' She picked up Hogan's collar pins, brushing her fingers gently over the cold steel. 'You wouldn't mind if I took these with me, would you?'

Newkirk shook his head. 'You take them, Maisie. You can take his cap, too, if you wish.'

'Be too hard to hide. These, I can slip into my boots if I need to. Keep the cap with his jacket.'

'You sure?'

'I'm sure. I wish I could take the jacket, but Papa's pins are enough. His dog tags will get sent back to his family, won't they?'

He nodded. 'I'm sorry I can't give those to you.'

'Regulations, I know. It's alright. These are enough.' She slipped them inside a sock for safekeeping, tucking them down inside her bag. 'What's going to happen with the convoy London wants blown?'

'I don't know. We'll think of something.'

'I wish there was something I could do-'

'You've already done enough.' He interrupted, as he stood and came up behind her. 'That refinery wouldn't have gotten blown if it wasn't for you.'

'I guess so.'

'Chin up. I'm sure you'll be able to help somehow later down the track.'

' 'Chin up'. You sound like Crittendon.' She teased. 'Go on, now, let me finish packing.'

'Alright, alright.'

'And tell LeBeau I want something special for dinner. It's the least you all can do for me having to slave for Crittendon the past week.'

He chuckled as he headed out. 'I'll see what I can do.'

After Newkirk had left, Maisie sobered, her thoughts returning to Colonel Hogan as she picked up his jacket. With Crittendon's arrival, yes, the whole atmosphere of the camp had changed again. Colonel Hogan's room bore no resemblance of his residence any more, Crittendon effectively erasing his memory when he'd taken over. I miss you so much, Papa. She rubbed the collar of the jacket against her cheek, breathing in the faint scent of his aftershave. She closed her eyes, letting the smell bring memories of him back to her mind. Why did you try escaping from the Gestapo? It was a foolish thing to even think of, let alone do.

Night came around again, and Maisie shared one last meal with the men in the barracks. LeBeau had somehow managed to make up some fried chicken for her, much to her delight. Conversation was had around the table as the men ate, but she kept to herself and her own thoughts. Crittendon was eating by himself in his office as he had all week, saying it just wasn't done that officers ate with enlisted men. Hogan never cared about that. He'd always joined them for meals, sitting at the head of the table. She glanced over at the empty chair. The men had decided that it wasn't right for anyone else to take his place, and they'd voted to keep it vacant in his memory. It was the only thing that Crittendon's arrival hadn't upset-

'I thought I might join you chaps for a spot of dessert.' Crittendon exclaimed, as he walked out of his office with an empty plate, noticing the spare chair. 'I hope you don't mind-'

Maisie's eyes blazed. 'That's Colonel Hogan's chair.'

'It ain't like he's going to need it.' He replied, looking over at LeBeau as he sat down. 'What have we got for dessert?'

'Didn't you hear me?' The barracks had gone silent, the men looking in the teen's direction. 'I said that is Colonel Hogan's chair!'

'I'm pretty sure your Colonel Hogan wouldn't mind me borrowing it for a spell, seeing as I'm the Senior POW Officer now-'

That really did it. She stood angrily. 'Ever since you got here, Crittendon, all you've done is take over! Papa might be dead, but that doesn't mean that we have to forget him. You took over his room, you threw out his personal belongings, and you aren't a third of the man he was.'

'Don't you think you're just taking it just a tad personally-'

'I think Maisie has put into words how the rest of us feel pretty well, Colonel.' Newkirk replied, as he got up, placing his hand on her shoulder to restrain her. 'Come on, Maisie. You best get a move on.'

Crittendon frowned as they walked to the bunk. 'Go where? I do declare…'

'As far away as I can get from you, good riddance.' She waved to the rest of the men, starting down the ladder. 'Goodbye, and good luck to you all.'

'Well I never-'

'Get down there, you.' Newkirk stopped Maisie from having a round two with the colonel, watching as the teen climbed down the ladder, then he followed her down. 'Maisie…'

'I know, I know, but Newkirk, he, he, he's-' She was so angry, she couldn't get her words out. 'A blithering wet sock, moldy cookie dummkopf.'

He couldn't stop himself from laughing, the girl glaring at him. 'Ay, little mate-' He managed to get out between laughs. 'That's one I've never heard before.'

Maisie giggled after a moment, her temper starting to cool slightly. 'I'm sorry, Newkirk, but he just…' She sighed. 'It's a good thing I'm going. I can't stand that man. How do you put up with him?'

'A mountain of self control. Also, threat of a court martial.'

'Maisie, you didn't get a chance to finish your supper.' LeBeau came down the ladder, bringing her plate with her. 'Now, I spent hours cooking for you, you better eat it.'

She laughed as she took the plate. 'Thank you, LeBeau.'

'Boy, you really told him-' Carter added, as he joined them, Kinch following from behind. 'The look on his face was priceless.'

'Don't encourage her, Carter. It's not becoming of a young lady being rude to her elders," Newkirk warned.

'But you said-'

'Never mind what I said.' He replied, as they made their way to Maisie's old room. 'Regardless of how we feel about him, he's in charge.'

'Yeah, well, we'd be better off without him.' Carter retaunted.

'Well, I sure hope London can send someone else soon-' Kinch spoke up, taking a seat on an empty crate like the rest of them. 'We can't afford any more mishaps like last night.'

'What are you guys going to do?' Maisie questioned, scooping up the rest of her potato with her fork. 'I mean about the operation. With him in charge.'

Newkirk shrugged. 'Make do, I guess. We have to.'

'Crittendon sure ain't Colonel Hogan,' Carter said sadly. 'I can't believe it's already been over a month since he's been gone.'

'Neither can I.' LeBeau agreed. 'I don't want to believe it.'

'Well, that colonel up there is proof London believes it.' Maisie interjected. 'But I on the other hand don't want to give in so soon. Just because he's gone doesn't mean we should forget him. Papa did so much for me...for all of us. It's just not fair that London sent Crittendon to take his place. He doesn't hold a candle to him.'

'We're not forgetting him-' Kinch placed a hand on her knee. 'But life goes on, Maisie. The operation has to go on, even with Crittendon in charge.'

'I know. I guess I just don't want to let go yet. Everything changed so fast…' She placed the empty plate aside. 'It would have been better if Crittendon hadn't acted the way he has. It's like he wants to erase Colonel Hogan from memory. First his job, then his room, and now his place at the table…'

Kinch squeezed her knee gently. 'It's a lot of change.'

She nodded sadly. 'I don't want to seem like I'm being mean, but I really miss Colonel Hogan.'

'We all know you do-' Newkirk came over beside her. 'We do, too. We've just got to deal with it as best as we can, though, little mate. Like it or not.'

'I don't like it. Not one bit.'

He chuckled a little. 'There's my fiery girl. I was wondering where she'd disappeared off for a moment there.'

'Margrieta, you down here?'

Maisie sighed heavily hearing Crittendon's voice echo through the tunnel, the colonel appearing a moment later in the doorway.

'Ah, Margrieta-' Crittendon said, as he joined them all in the room. 'My sincerest apologies for the commotion I caused upstairs. A couple of the fellows took the time to talk things through with me, jolly good chaps. Anyhow, I'm sorry, and I hope you'll accept my apology.'

She looked up at him, utterly speechless.

'Well, what do you know?' Newkirk started, after a moment. 'Miracles will never cease. You'd better accept his apology, Maisie. I've never heard him apologize ever.'

'I do apologize, Corporal, when I am wrong.' He replied, deeply offended. 'Which, mind you, isn't very often.'

'Apology accepted.' She replied, after a moment. 'I apologize for my behaviour-'

'There's no need for that, lass. I know I've been a bit of a nuisance.'

'A bit?' Newkirk repeated. 'What do you call last night's little caper, then, mate?'

'Alright, a jolly great nuisance, then.'

Maisie stifled a laugh, turning it into a cough instead. 'I couldn't have put it better myself.'

Crittendon looked at her, but made no further comment on the matter, noticing the bag on the ground beside the entrance. 'You planning on going somewhere, young lass?'

'Going to visit with an old friend for a few days.'

'Oh, that sounds like jolly good fun. I hope you enjoy your visit.'

'T-thank you.' She frowned, trying to make sense of the colonel's quick turn around. She looked at him a moment longer, unable to figure out his new behaviour, and turned to the men. 'It's time I was off. Thank you for the special meal, LeBeau.'

'My pleasure, Maisie.' The Frenchman grinned as he stood, the two of them embracing, and he kissed her cheek. 'You're the only one who appreciates my good cooking.'

She giggled, then turned to Kinch as he joined them. 'Keep well, Kinch. Don't work too hard.'

'That goes for you, too. Don't be a stranger, now. You come drop in from time to time. We'll be glad to have you.'

'Kinch is right-' Newkirk agreed, giving her a hug. 'and be sure to send word to us how you're getting on. We'll be worried about you.'

'If you get a postcard from a cousin Louisa, you'll know who it is.'

'Take care, now. Colonel Hogan will have my ruddy hide from the grave if anything happens to you.'

'I'll be careful, promise.' She giggled, standing on her tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Carter.

'You better drop in for Christmas, you hear. I'll be expecting you.' Carter gave her a warm hug, the teen smiling as she looked up at him.

'I'll try and get here for Christmas. We'll just have to see what happens. Okay?'

'I'll have something under the tree waiting for you.'

'And just how are you going to get a Christmas tree in the middle of Germany, pray tell?'

'We'll come up with something.'

Maisie turned to Colonel Crittendon last, the two of them exchanging an awkward handshake. 'Goodbye, Colonel. Keep well.'

'You too, my good lass. Sure will be different without your smiling face to brighten up the place. Don't let the Jerrys get the better of you.'

'No worries there, Colonel, I can hold my own.'

'Somehow, I do believe you could.'

With goodbyes said, she picked up her bag and turned back to the men. 'I'll see myself out. Five minutes till roll call and guard change. Say 'goodbye' to Schultz for me, Newkirk. Tell him I'll drop in sometime and make him some more cake.'

'I'll let him know. Be careful out there.' He cautioned once more.

'Always.'

She lingered a moment longer, giving the men a small smile, then started down the tunnel. Behind her, she could hear them leaving, going in the opposite direction to make their way back into the barracks. I hope they're going to be alright without Papa in charge, she thought soberly, as she came to the bottom of the ladder, carefully starting her way up. While she didn't want to leave, she felt better about her decision to take a little vacation. With everything that had happened, some time away would do her good. I sure am going to miss them, though. Especially Newkirk. The corporal, much to her surprise, had really stepped up to the plate with Hogan's death, not only for the men, but for her, too. A little smile formed as she continued up the ladder. Yes, he really had come through for all of them. Hogan would have been proud.

Finally, she made it to the top of the ladder, lifting the hatch cautiously. The coast was clear, and she didn't waste any time climbing out and closing the entrance up again. She hurried into the trees, holding her bag close against her, and started in the direction of the old farm house. Let's just hope I don't freeze to death, in the meantime.

'Are you sure you're warm enough, dear?' Jenny asked kindly, placing another blanket around the teen's shoulders.

'Yes, thank you.' Maisie smiled, as she took another sip of the warm cocoa. 'My nose doesn't feel like it wants to fall off now.'

Willy chuckled. 'You picked the coldest night we've had so far to travel.'

'Don't I know it. My hands still feel like ice.'

'At least we had some warning about your arrival this time-' Jenny took a seat beside her, the three of them gathered around the little stove. 'One of the underground members passed on the message this afternoon that you'd be dropping in.'

'I didn't want to make me turning up out of the blue into a bad habit.' She giggled, savouring the feel of the warm mug in her cold hands. 'I hope it's no imposition. I just need some time away. If I'm going to put you guys out-'

Willy was quick to dismiss her concerns. 'It's no imposition at all, my dear. You should know that by now.'

'Thank you.'

'And how are things at the camp?' Jenny questioned, after a slight pause in conversation.

'Not the best. London sent a new officer to take Colonel Hogan's place and run the operation. It's just so different since Papa's gone.'

'We were quite shocked when we heard the news.' Willy spoke up softly. 'How have you been coping?'

Tears started to come to her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. 'Not very good, I'm afraid. I miss him so much…' Jenny placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she smiled sadly at her. 'I still can't believe he is gone.'

'What happened?'

'You weren't told?'

Willy shook his head. 'All we heard was that he was dead, and that wasn't until only a couple weeks ago.'

Maisie took a deep breath. 'Gestapo arrested him, and they were taking him in for questioning. He was shot and killed attempting to escape.'

'Escape from the Gestapo?'

'I know.' She replied to Jenny's reaction. 'Papa knew it would have been suicide to try. I don't believe it, but they sent his things-' Her voice broke, and she paused for a moment, then looked back up at the woman. 'They shot him in the back. I saw his jacket. His blood… I don't want to believe he's really gone, but they sent his things to the camp Komandant for proof….' She hastily wiped her eyes again. 'I just don't want to believe it, but…' She lowered her head. 'He never returned to camp.'

'I'm so sorry to hear that, Maisie. I don't know what to say.' Willy spoke up after a long silence. 'He was a remarkable man. He's going to be missed.'

'And London sent in another man to take his place, like they'd just tossed him aside like an old rag. Papa did so much for them and they just cast him off…'

Jenny patted her shoulder. 'I know it might seem like that, dear, but I'm sure his command knows what they're doing.'

'I know, but it's like they're replacing him. No one can replace him…' She sniffled softly. 'That's why I had to get away from camp for a few days. I just couldn't bear to stay there any longer.'

'You're more than welcome to stay here with us as long as you like.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Gustavsson.'

Willy rubbed his chin thoughtfully, musing over what the teen had said. 'Maisie, other than his items being sent, was there anything else that could have confirmed his death? Reports, Red Cross paperwork? Surely something would have been sent to the camp Komandant. His death would have had to go down on the files.'

She frowned, thinking. 'No, no I don't think there was anything-' She shook her head, not quite getting at what he was suggesting. 'I mean, the Gestapo's word is law. No one dares to question them.'

'Was any attempt made to confirm that what they said was correct?'

'No, I mean, they sent Papa's jacket and cap and his dog tags…'

'But no documented evidence?'

'I don't remember there being any. There might have been. Newkirk and the others might have chosen to keep it secret from me, but I doubt that would have been the case.'

'And who was the officer in charge of the case?'

'A Major Langer. He was in Hochstetter's place, at the time.' Maisie's frown deepened. 'What are you thinking, Mr. Gustavsson?'

'Yes, Willy-' Jenny spoke up. 'What are you getting at?'

Willy stood to get more fuel for the fire, waiting a moment before he replied. 'The items they sent. That's not firm proof of anything.'

'But I saw it-' Maisie protested. 'Papa's jacket was soaked with blood, and the bullet holes-'

'It doesn't mean he was the one wearing it.'

She looked up at him, dumbfounded. 'Why didn't I think of that? They might have set up the whole thing…'

'I know it's a long shot.' He closed up the door of the stove once more and returned to his seat. 'But it might be worth attempting to look into it.'

'You mean, Colonel Hogan might still be alive?' Jenny questioned.

A faint flicker of hope began to burn within Maisie's heart. 'How can we find out for sure?'

'Would you want to find out?' Willy asked.

'If there's a chance of finding out the truth, yes.' Maisie replied wholeheartedly.

'There's a chance that the truth might not be pleasant.'

'I know, but I have to know, Mr. Gustavsson. I have to know.'