Chapter 4
Dad,
Continuing where I left off…I met another guy, Carter, who took me on a tour of the camp. Nice, but talked a mile a minute. The medic's assistant also came in. Carter told me he would find me some personal supplies.
So, back to the tour. Nothing unexpected. Stay away from the fences, etc. Funny thing happened. A guard deliberately walked over and introduced himself. Didn't expect the warm welcome!
It's freezing. Yes, I know I should be used to the cold. But, this is different. Probably feels worse because I'm basically in jail!
Send coffee and penicillin in a care package.
Correction: The Kommandant has two secretaries. Women! Met the first one when I came in. Their names are Helga and Hilda! Seriously.
So, I'm settling in. The men are friendly and when Carter said something, they plied me with missing supplies and extra clothes. I've been tapped to perform in a talent show. Yes, I know I don't have stage fright and some unusual talents, but I don't know… (Please pray the war is over before that happens)
One "threatening" development. The Kommandant's violin playing. I haven't had the pleasure yet, but I'm sure it keeps away vermin. It's supposedly that frightening.
This is a fairly small camp. And despite the Kommandant's inflated ego, he seems to have some semblance of humanity. The medic told me really sick prisoners are routinely excused from roll call. Colonel Hogan takes care of clearing it the Kommandant and his Sergeant of the Guard.
There are three colored American soldiers here. No idea how or why. But, they aren't separated from the rest of the prisoners. I'm still wrapping my head around that. We have Jewish POWs too. They're in with the general population, but that was also the case in the other stalag. Although I've heard some horror stories, and some guys I knew changed their dog tags.
The lack of segregation is part Klink, who I guess doesn't care as long as no one escapes (I've been told ad nauseum that there have been no successful escapes) and our C.O. Anyone causing flack is in serious trouble, or so they told me. I think you would like Colonel Hogan, Dad. He's younger than I thought. 37. (I checked his file) Stress and command take a toll. He's going gray in places, but he's still got a good head of hair on him! The Kommandant is bald and hates being reminded of that. Don't tell anyone, but I've seen the guards salute Colonel Hogan and ignore the Kommandant.
There's a guy here who seems to know everything and everyone. Cockney chap, as they say, and I think there is a lot more to him than what you see on the surface. We bonded over mutual fondness for Jewish delis. For him, it was the East End, of course. He's one of the Jewish men I mentioned. But he never changed his tags. Same with another guy in the barracks. Courage comes in all shapes and sizes.
Speaking of the colonel's hut. One of the residents is French and is an honest to goodness French chef. He's not much over five feet. Said his entire family is short. What he can do with a can of spam.
Don't worry about me, Dad. I still think there is something odd going on around here, though. In fact, when I brought it up to Carter, he quickly changed the subject and roped me into the talent show mentioned above.
Oh, I forgot to mention, I met the second female secretary. She's even nicer than the first. But working for the bad guys. I think they both got called up, and this was a safer post.
Your son,
Hawkeye.
Pierce took the letter, which was written in the margins of a very old life magazine page, and knowing it wasn't safe to send, locked it in his footlocker. He then took out a postcard, and wrote his dad a short and upbeat note, which would go out with the next post.
Thanks to Oskar's minor miracle—they never asked the vet where he found the radio parts—Kinch and Baker were soon back in business.
"London is setting the plan in motion." Kinch said. "Hopefully, that won't take long; they think this will be quicker than the normal channels. And they confirmed that the aid post was overrun, but they don't know how many were captured."
"Excellent work," Hogan said. "But, until we hear otherwise, we'll still work on solving this mystery ourselves."
"One more thing." Kinch smiled. "They approved a drop. Weather dependent, of course. Sending penicillin and some other medical supplies."
"Best news I've heard all day!" Hogan said. "Tell London we appreciate the service." Despite the danger of being discovered, which was a constant concern, Hogan and his men knew they were luckier than most of the POW's in Europe. It was a trade-off.
Hogan was alone in the hut common room when he heard a knock on the door. "Come," he said, as he put down the book he was reading.
"What can I do for you, Doctor?"
"We've got twelve new men on sick call! I've had to put two barracks on quarantine! Colonel Hogan, we're going to have a disaster on our hands if we don't get this respiratory thing under control. We need supplies. We need to work on the huts." Hawkeye's voice cracked. "We need penicillin! Between the dampness, the cold, the wind, the food…It's better than where I was before, but I can only guess what's happening. We can't rely on the Red Cross deliveries getting through!" Hawkeye took a deep breath, but was stopped by the colonel's hand before he could continue.
"Calm down, Pierce," The colonel ordered.
"I can't…"
"You're out of line, Doctor."
A surprised Hawkeye noted the lack of yelling. But then he continued. "Not when it comes to my patients, sir. And I have what? About a thousand?"
Hogan sat back in his chair and folded his arms. Hmmm. nteresting development. He's really agitated. One check for the not being a plant column.
The two stared at one another for a moment.
"Sit down." Hogan pointed to a chair, which Hawkeye pulled out. The doctor took a seat then pulled the chair in closer to the table.
"Don't you think I'm aware of everything you just said, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir. I just…"
"Can get carried away. I understand. You're passionate. You're in charge of your own little domain. You feel responsible for everyone. Look, I'm glad you're here. Especially now. Keep me informed and work with Wilson. But, let me worry about the big picture."
Hawkeye nodded.
"Is that clear?" Hogan asked.
"Yes, sir." Hawkeye felt chastened. "One question, Colonel? What will the Kommandant do if the camp runs out of food?"
"We have plans," Hogan replied. "I'll meet with you and Wilson later this week. And I'll request a meeting with Klink, if necessary. No barging into Klink's office without my okay. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Dismissed."
As soon as Hawkeye left the hut, Hogan went over to Kinch's bunk and opened the mechanism. He went down below, hit the switch to close the bunk and found Baker manning the radio.
"They're all in the lab, sir." Baker said.
Hogan nodded. "Tell everyone to meet me upside."
A few minutes later, Hogan informed his crew of Pierce's rant.
"The message from London can't get here soon enough, sir."
"You're right, Carter. " Hogan sighed. "Counting the minutes. Carry on as usual until we hear otherwise."
Daniel Pierce sat in his family room, staring blankly at a photo of his only child. The telegram notifying him that his son was MIA sat on the end table next to his chair. Once word was received, the town and surrounding areas rallied around the family doctor, and many brought food and a kind word or handshake. Pierce's friend and colleague from Portland, Harold Greenberg, offered to stay for a bit and see to his friends' appointments, but Hawkeye's dad declined.
"I need to stay busy. Ben's a pacifist. Wouldn't even go hunting," Daniel explained. "Hated guns."
Greenberg knew this all before, but he let his friend go on.
"But, the Nazis. He couldn't stand to see what was going on in Germany. He told me as soon as he started the accelerated program, he'd volunteer."
"He's a good man, Daniel," Greenberg said. The Nazis and everything they stood for horrified Ben since Hitler took power. The young man even wrote angry letters to American politicians decrying the anti-immigration policy. Greenberg was surprised that Ben didn't get noticed.
"He's just a boy." Pierce glanced out the window. One pane still held the flag signifying a loved one was in the service. He then rubbed his eyes.
"The Germans captured a lot of men in their counterattack." Harold was surprised that word of the aid station being overrun got back to Allied lines so quickly. He assumed some patients or medical personnel got out. It was a blessing. Better to know than wait for a letter from a loved one that didn't come.
The doctor nodded. "I can only hope," he whispered. "I don't think his mother would have been able to deal with this."
After a quick meal, Daniel was about to say goodbye to his friend when they heard a knock at the door. "Can you get that?" Daniel, his arms full of dish soap, asked Harold.
"Of course." Thinking friends were bringing more food, Harold swung the door open. His heart leapt into his throat and his stomach sank at the sight of an army major.
"Doctor Pierce?" the major asked.
"No. I'm his friend. He's in the kitchen."
Seeing the man's face turn pale, the major offered a smile. "I'm Major Williams. May I come in and speak to him? I have some good news."
Harold caught his breath. "Yes. Of course! Is this about Ben? Wait. I'll get him for you."
Harold hurried into the kitchen. "Daniel. You have to come out. There's an army officer here. He said he has some good news."
His mind now reeling, Daniel put down his towel. "What news?" Did he dare hope his son was alive? And back with the Allies? Or was he captured?
"I don't know," Harold said kindly. He followed his friend out of the kitchen and into the living room.
A shaking Daniel offered the major a seat. The room was comfortably furnished. Not ostentatious by any means. The two doctors took the sofa and waited for the major to speak.
"Normally, you would receive word from the Red Cross, but I had a previous engagement in this area. I'm a medical corps liaison. We have word that your son is no longer missing. He is at a POW camp in Germany. We also know he is uninjured. "You will probably get information that he is at Stalag 5. But he was transferred recently to another camp. Here is the information for you." He handed Daniel a card.
The intelligence officer had no idea why he was ordered to come to this home and get a description, or better yet, a photo, but he knew it was urgent. He was just happy he didn't have to tell someone their son was dead.
Not surprisingly, the young man's father, still shaking and his mind now a blank, began to cry tears of relief. Harold stood up. "Thank you so much for coming in person. Can I offer you something to eat or drink?"
"No, thank you. I'm glad I could help. You should be getting official word from the Red Cross shortly. They'll include further instructions on how to reach your son by mail." He glanced at the room. Family photos in frames adorned the mantel piece, tables and walls. "Is that your son?" he pointed at the mantel.
Daniel wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. "Yes." He got up and removed the photo. He handed it to the officer. "His mother would have been very proud. But, also worried. He volunteered."
"He's a handsome young man," Williams stated. Without the two men realizing it, he managed to get a photo of the man using a hidden camera. What intelligence would do with the photo was not his concern.
Both men saw the major out, none the wiser.
Two days later, Hogan received a call from London informing them that an operative from Düsseldorf would be rendezvousing in town. Olsen was sent out and a few hours later, he returned and happily informed everyone that Pierce was the real doctor.
Newkirk hurried over to meet Pierce, who along with Wilson, was at Barracks 12, dealing with a minor injury.
"We need the doc over at the barracks. The guv'nor has requested a meeting." Newkirk smiled, which the medic interpreted as a sign that Hawkeye was not a spy. He was relieved. He liked the young doctor and was happy to hear that he would be brought into the loop.
"Is it an emergency?" Hawkeye asked.
"No. No one is ill," Newkirk replied.
The barracks was full when Hawkeye and Wilson walked through the door. He didn't recall seeing any of the men at the mess earlier, but he was aware that some barracks cooked meager meals on the stoves in their huts. It was too cold to hang outside. Remembering his protocol, and still smarting from the colonel's minor scolding, he saluted when Hogan came out of his office.
The colonel smiled and said, "At ease. Have a seat." He pointed to a chair near the common room table.
Well, at least he doesn't hold grudges, Hawkeye thought. He wondered when Hogan planned on having the meeting with the medical staff. But he held his tongue.
Most of the men were lounging on their bunks. Three others sat around the table. Carter was at one end. Kinchloe sat at the other end. The short Frenchman, LeBeau, was standing by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Newkirk grabbed a chair and straddled it, lighting a cigarette as he took his seat. Hogan grabbed another chair. Wilson plopped down on an empty lower bunk.
To Hawkeye, they all looked like the cat that stole the canary. Something was obviously up.
"Just wanted you to know that I have no update on supplies. I've got Klink searching high and low." Hogan looked at Hawkeye. "By the way, he told me he tried to take medical supplies from your old stalag, but all he could get was extra prisoners and a doctor. You do know he won you in a bridge game, don't you?" Hogan smiled.
At that, Hawkeye's eyes widened. "No one told me." And he tilted his head back and laughed. A full-throated laugh that immediately garnered the attention of the entire barracks. It was contagious. Hogan and the others stared for a bit, a few men began to chuckle, and Hogan couldn't help but grin himself.
"You have to be kidding me." Hawkeye said once he regained control. He recalled his recent interaction with Hogan and vowed to show Hogan some respect. "Sorry, Colonel. I just... Well, you can't make this stuff up."
"You don't know the half of it," Newkirk commented. He quieted down as LeBeau shushed him.
Hogan held up his hand. "It's all right. We were shocked as well, because Klink is a horrible bridge player." The hut broke out in laughter. "Crazy war." He shook his head.
"So, back to what I wanted to discuss. It took a few days, but we had to make sure you are the real doctor. There's something you need to know," Hogan stated. "This is not your average POW camp."
The air was charged with expectation and the stares were all on him; just like when the lights went out in a birthday party. Hawkeye was sure that there was no cake coming up. He kept listening to what Hogan was saying but his brain took its time to process the information.
"You're joking."
"No, mate." The English corporal slapped him gently on the shoulder. "True." he offered the doctor a cigarette, which he declined.
Hawkeye swallowed hard. "Tunnels?"
"All over the place," LeBeau replied.
"Then, why are you still here? Why don't you leave?"
"Because this is our job, Hawkeye. Sabotage...rescues, espionage... sabotage. " Carter grinned."Oh, and rescuing downed fliers and escaped POWs. I escaped from Stalag 5 and wound up here," he said.
"Are you all nuts?" Hawkeye didn't sign up to be shot as a spy. The hell with insubordination. This situation was beyond belief. He looked at the barracks. You could hear a pin drop. One man was at the door, which was opened a crack. "Is this some kind of hazing? Because if it is, it's not funny." Hawkeye moved to get up from the chair.
Not the first time seeing this reaction, Hogan waited for a moment. He leaned over and quietly spoke to the young doctor. "Come with me." He rose and headed for the bunk entrance. Slapping the top edge, the mechanism opened.
"That's someone's bunk," Hawkeye squeaked. "This must be top secret. Why are you showing me this?" Pierce stepped forward and then stopped dead. His heart began to race, and his palms began to sweat. "Okay. I believe you now," he said as he stepped back. "You have a hospital down there?"
"A small medical area. Sometimes we need to treat injured fliers." Wilson came closer. "But there is more than that. Would you like to see it?"
"I'll take your word for it." Hawkeye stepped back.
"I'm sorry, Pierce," Hogan said. "It's not an invitation. We're recruiting you as our unit doctor. You need to see what we have down below."
Hawkeye replied, "I don't think I can."
"Claustrophobic?" Wilson asked.
Hawkeye nodded.
In the years he had been in camp, Hogan had seen it all, including multiple cases of claustrophobia. But the doctor needed to see the system.
"The main tunnel system is quite large. Built from an abandoned mine system. The Germans didn't know it was there. Seems the records were misplaced," Hogan said.
Hawkeye shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, Colonel."
"You have to see it, Hawkeye. For your safety and for everyone's safety,"Hogan said. "That's an order."
"Come on. I'll go down with you," Wilson offered.
LeBeau then stepped forward. "Mon ami. I hate close places too but in that tunnel I feel safer than up here. Come."
It took a while, but slowly, the men patiently coaxed the doctor down the ladder. To his amazement, Hawkeye found himself in a large cavernous space. He took multiple deep breathes to calm his racing heart. The color came back into his face and he faced his escorts. "I think I'll be okay. For a bit. No promises."
"Focus on the tour," LeBeau suggested. "We will work on getting you used to being down here."
Hawkeye nodded.
While Hogan and Kinch headed over to the radio area, Carter took over, explaining the history of the space and the safety features. "This is our main room," Carter said. "Over there is communications." He then pointed out the ladder heading up to the trunk entrance, his lab, the small area where guests stayed before they could be sent to England, and the tiny medical area.
"We used to have more supplies down here," Wilson said, not informing the doctor about the anticipated supply drop.
Hawkeye examined the room. Not the best location for medical treatment, but he understood the necessity. Although, he thought, would it be asking too much for a floor?
"We'll bring men up top if necessary," Wilson added.
After showing off the costuming area and metal shop, the team pointed out the spurs leading to and from barracks, other buildings, and the cooler.
"We'll try and make sure you don't have to use these," Hogan, who had returned, told the doctor with a smile. "But, you need to memorize the maze."
"Is there a spur leading from the infirmary?"Hawkeye asked, hoping the answer was no.
"I'll show you when we get back to the building," Wilson told him. "So far, we've never had to use it."
After the tour, the men went back up to the hut. Hogan looked at Hawkeye. "If you want to leave, we will find a way to get you out of here. We're all volunteers. But, a warning. That could be as risky as staying here. We will hand you off to safe houses, and normally, you'd go back to England on a submarine."
"That sounds dangerous," Hawkeye replied. "It's bad out there. Plus freezing," he added."And the truth is I'm allergic to guns. I'm a pacifist. Yeah, I know that sounds weird. I volunteered after all, but it's true. Last thing I want to do is getting caught between two sets of armies firing at one another."
Hogan held back a smile."Think about it. We don't normally involve the noncombatants in any of our operations. That's the medical staff and the chaplain. But, we never know what can happen," he added.
Hawkeye thought for a moment. They were nuts. This set-up was unbelievable. He knew that there was resistance in occupied Europe, but he was surprised to hear that some Germans were also fighting the regime. He volunteered to help Allied wounded. He was almost killed in the attack on the aid station. He could have starved or died from illness in Stalag 5.
He made a snap decision. "I'll take my chances here." After all, he told himself. The war can't last much longer. And the thought of being sent into a submarine filled him with fear.
Hawkeye's claustrophia is canon. and he's had it since childhood. The episode is "C*A*V*E" in Season 7.