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Colonel Klink was relieved when he saw Colonel Hogan standing with his men at evening roll call. The American had been prowling the fence line all afternoon and early evening, and was constantly being warned away by the guards. Klink had told Schultz to order the guards to be watchful of Hogan but not forceful, and Hogan, for his part, seemed to heed the warnings, then roam back to the wires when he thought no one was watching. But Klink himself had kept an eye on Hogan, concerned in spite of himself about Hogan's state of mind. Certainly the senior POW officer was a thorn in Klink's side—always seeming to outsmart him in ways that he could not fathom, always seeming to have control of the camp somehow. But the quiet fear in Hogan's voice when the two men met earlier that day had disturbed Klink in a way he had not expected. This man, this enemy with whom he had struck up a slightly uneasy rapport, was, for the first time in their acquaintance, not completely in control. And when that happened to someone like Colonel Robert Hogan, Klink felt anxious. For both of them.
Now outside Barracks Two, Hogan stood as he always did: cocksure, hands in pockets, crush cap pushed back to reveal a defiant shock of dark hair, bomber jacket drawn up around his neck against the cold. Rocking gently back and forth on his heels, he traded quiet jokes with the men, as always putting them at ease. When Klink strode up to get the nightly report from Schultz, however, Hogan turned his eyes front, and his humor disappeared.
"Repooooorrrrt!" Klink ordered impatiently.
"Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for!" Schultz announced, pleased.
"Very good." Klink came face to face with Hogan. "I see you are still with us, Colonel Hogan," he said in a low voice.
"For now," Hogan said, with no indication of whether that would be continuing.
Klink suddenly saw a pallor to Hogan's face that he had not noticed before. Maybe it was the way it contrasted to the yellow-purple bruises and the dark circles under his eyes. Or maybe it was Hogan's eyes themselves, which seemed to be set with pain and fatigue. But no matter what Hogan hid from his own men, Klink was sure he was witnessing a slow and calculated destruction of the American by Hochstetter, and it troubled him. "See that it stays that way, Colonel," Klink said, and turned on his heel. "Disss-missed," he said over his shoulder, unease growing inside him.
Hogan and the others headed back into the barracks. Gathering around the table, he went over the plan with them again. "Okay, is everyone clear on tonight?" He looked at his men as they nodded their apprehensive assent. "Hochstetter says the lights will go out at 2300, and there's a nice spot close to the watchtower where he's somehow had the wire cut on the fence. Now he's expecting me to be coming out with two men. Carter, Newkirk, you'll be out there to make sure I get caught, but I don't want you suspected of trying to get out with me, understand? If Klink questions you, tell him you were keeping an eye out for me; he's likely to believe that."
"Yes, Colonel," said Newkirk. Carter nodded understanding.
"Everyone else, play it cool. You don't know anything about this, right?"
"Right," they mumbled.
"Now we've got a couple of hours till this happens. Why don't you guys turn in, I'll wake you when it's time."
Hogan poured himself a cup of coffee and turned toward his room, only to be pulled aside by Kinch. "With all due respect, Colonel, you look like Hell," he said softly. "Why don't you get some sleep and let us tell you when it's time?"
"I don't think I could if I tried," Hogan admitted.
"Do you want Wilson to bring you something, sir?"
"He can't turn off my mind. Thanks anyway, Kinch; I'll be okay." A weary smile of thanks passed Hogan's lips as he closed himself in his office with his fears and his memories.
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Hogan froze as a hail of bullets danced near his feet. The guards had not noticed his bold approach to the fence when the lights went out as Hochstetter had promised. But a shout from Newkirk quickly brought them running to the wire. Hogan turned, one hand still on the fence, the other raised in quiet surrender. "Do not move!" called a voice in stilted English. The beam of a flashlight swung toward Hogan, momentarily blinding him, and a second guard appeared and pushed him forcefully away from the perimeter of the camp.
"Please, Colonel, do what he says!" shouted Newkirk, from somewhere in the gloom.
"Yeah, Colonel, it's not worth it!" Carter's voice echoed in the stillness.
Klink came flying out of his quarters, carrying another torch that assaulted Hogan's eyes. "What's going on here?" he demanded, the light beam flashing from one person to another, landing nowhere. The unexpected gunshots had startled him, and he could only imagine the worst as he hastily dressed and left his quarters. So it was with a great sense of relief that he saw Hogan standing, shoulders drooping, eyes downcast, by the fence. "Colonel Hogan, what is the meaning of this?"
Hogan just shrugged, unspeaking. Klink turned on his guards angrily. "I thought I told you no gunfire!"
"Ja, Herr Kommandant. But the Oberst, he was—"
"I don't care what he was trying to do!" Klink interrupted, angrily waving his fist toward the young guard. "I said there was to be no shooting without just cause! Get more guards to help you patrol while the power is out, and leave Colonel Hogan to me," he ordered, more in command than Hogan could remember seeing him before.
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," the guard said hastily, retreating with his companion as quickly as possible.
"We're sorry, Kommandant," said Newkirk, emerging from the shadows. "I'm afraid it's our fault, sir. We knew the Colonel was trying to escape and we needed to stop him, sir."
"What are you doing out of the barracks?" Klink asked, as Carter came forward with an apologetic smile as well.
"We had to stop him, sir!" Carter said. "We knew he was gonna try something crazy!"
"We couldn't just let him get shot trying to escape, Kommandant!" Newkirk added. "We owe it to Colonel 'Ogan to at least get 'im home to his family alive, sir."
"Very well—back to barracks with you," Klink waved them away. "See that you stay there."
"Yes, sir," they mumbled. And with a final look at Hogan, who nodded just slightly at them, they ran off back to their quarters.
"Colonel Hogan," started Klink, unsure how to continue. He tried to read the American's expression, but the dimness made it impossible. "Colonel Hogan, why?" he asked finally, almost gently, longing to understand.
Hogan stayed unspeaking, unseeing. He looked up at the night sky, where a large, clear moon was starting to peek out from behind some clouds. A bomber's moon, he thought fleetingly. I should be in the sky….
Once again unsure how to approach this new Hogan, Klink felt what he later defined as compassion for his prisoner. He had never expected to see Hogan this way. In almost all ways possible, he had considered Hogan his equal; in some ways, when he thought hard about it, he even thought Hogan the better man. He was different from the other prisoners Klink came into contact with. He was a thinking man—no doubt a schemer, but a thinking man nonetheless. An officer who commanded the respect of his men and who knew how to keep it. But the man Klink was facing now was different. Dispirited. And afraid. He had never seen Hogan afraid.
"Colonel Hogan, I want you to come back to my office," he said now. "We shall discuss this incident, and then you will receive your punishment."
"Punishment?" Hogan echoed, as the lights suddenly came flooding back on. You weren't going to give me much time, Hochstetter, Hogan thought.
Klink's confidence seemed to be restored with the power supply. "Check that the fence has not been tampered with," he ordered a passing guard. "Come, Colonel Hogan, we have much to talk about." He turned without wondering if Hogan would follow, and walked back his office.
Round one, Hogan thought, and trailed behind him.
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"Schultz is taking Colonel Hogan to the cooler!" Le Beau announced about an hour later. Looking out the window, the men had tried their best to keep track of what was happening in camp and to the Colonel. They had turned on the coffeepot bug and listened in on what had been mainly a one-sided conversation: Klink trying to get Hogan to promise that he wouldn't try to escape again. Over and over again, Klink explained how dangerous it was to try to get out of an escape-proof prison camp. Each time, Hogan made only perfunctory comments in reply. In the end, Klink had sighed heavily, then said that for Hogan's own safety he would be putting him in the cooler for a week to discourage him from trying to get out of Stalag 13.
"Le Beau, are there any supplies in the tunnel leading to the cooler?" asked Kinch.
"Oui, Kinch—I think there is a blanket, some medical supplies, and some food."
"I felt like a right traitor, calling out like that," Newkirk said.
"That was the plan, Peter; you had to do that so the Colonel would get caught."
"It still felt unnatural," Newkirk insisted.
"The look on the Colonel's face scared me," said Carter. "Like he wasn't acting."
"That's why he's the Papa Bear, Carter. He's the best at what he does," Kinch assured him. But maybe he really is a bit broken by this after all.