Hungarian Rhapsody
by Rebecca Sowell
++++++++++
Part II
++++++++++
"There's 'ardly anyone guarding the place." Newkirk remarked in whispered tones.
"Yeah, makes me wish we had brought some dynamite with us tonight." Carter added with his usual exuberance for anything that would explode. "Four or five grenades, maybe a little nitro—"
"I get the idea, Andrew." Newkirk interrupted his companion before he could go any further. Still puzzled by the lack of German guards, the Englishman said, "Let's take a look 'round the back side, see what's what there." Carter nodded his agreement, and the two slipped back into the brush that grew thickly around the edge of the forest. Peering around the trees, the scene before the men amazed them even more.
The munitions storage facility was usually heavily guarded, but on this night a lone sentry was seen walking the perimeter fence. "We'd better 'ead back to camp. Something's amiss 'ere." Newkirk stated matter-of-factly. The two men left the way they had come, through the bushes, into the woods, under cover of darkness. Dressed head to toe in black clothing and with black smudges on their faces, they vanished into the darkness.
++++++++++++
"Shhhh!" Lieutenant Douglas hissed as he clapped his hand over Lisa's mouth. When he was certain that she would remain quiet, he removed his hand, and whispered, "There goes another patrol. That's the fifth one that's passed since we've been hiding here." He knew there must be something important up ahead.
They had finally made it to the outskirts of Hammelburg, and if his memory of the briefing map served him correctly, Stalag 13 was just to the northeast of the town. The hay wagon he and Lisa had ridden in for most of the morning had finally reached its destination a few kilometers south of town. They had sneaked off into the woods when the farmer had brought the wagon to a halt, and for the better part of the afternoon had been on foot. Douglas had hoped to follow this road to reach the prison camp, but it appeared to be too crowded with soldiers.
"I'm going to take a look over that ridge back there and see if I can see another route around the town." Douglas said, and waiting until Lisa nodded her understanding, he crawled on his belly to the edge of the hillside. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Below the hill, and as far as he could see, were soldiers. But something didn't look quite right. He scanned the encampment, taking in the Germans in their overcoats and shiny jackboots, each soldier with his rifle at the ready as he guarded the troops in the camp.
That's it, thought Douglas. Why are the Germans guarding their own troops? Then he understood what was wrong with the scene: the majority of the troops were American, with a sprinkling of uniforms from the various Allied countries, as well. "A prison camp." Douglas whispered to himself. But surely this wasn't Stalag 13? From the eyewitness descriptions other servicemen had given back at the airbase, and from the training films he had watched, he knew that the German stalags usually had electrified wire, as well as dogs, guard towers and all the other standard features of a prison. They weren't just camped out in the open like this, with fire pits and makeshift shelters. Turning, he inched his way back to where Lisa waited.
"We'll circle around through the woods to the east, then north," Douglas said, when he rejoined the Hungarian woman. Grabbing her hand, he led her off into the darkness.
+++++++++
"Shhh, Carter. Stop making so much noise. You'll 'ave a patrol down on us for sure." Newkirk chastened, as he heard the young American sergeant noisily plodding through the dry leaves behind him.
"That wasn't me." Carter answered. "Not this time." He grinned, pleased that, for once, he wasn't the guilty party.
Annoyed, Newkirk hissed, "Well if it wasn't you, then who the bloody 'ell was it?"
When Carter didn't answer, Newkirk turned around to speak to his friend face to face. Finding himself looking into the barrel of a pistol, he raised his hands in surrender.
++++++++++++
"Colonel, they're back!" The Frenchman, LeBeau, rushed into the radio room where Hogan and Kinchloe were flipping through a codebook.
At LeBeau's announcement, both men turned to look at the opening to the tunnel branch that led in from the outside of camp. Carter came into the room first, followed by Newkirk.
"How'd it go? Everything all right?" Hogan frowned as Newkirk and Carter hesitated. He knew the two men too well, and it was obvious that something unexpected had occurred during the scouting mission. "Well, what is it?"
"Well, sir, we brought back some guests." Newkirk ventured, as Lisa peered around the tunnel support behind the two men, her eyes wide with astonishment at the scene in front of her.
Grinning widely, Carter interjected, "You mean they brought us back!" The young sergeant snickered a little as he remembered their shock at having been taken by surprise by the American lieutenant and his associate, the lovely Hungarian woman. Ignoring Newkirk's silencing glare, Carter added, "Right, Peter?"
With a look of annoyed exasperation, Hogan exclaimed, "Newkirk! You didn't—not again!" That was all they needed! It wouldn't be the first time Newkirk had decided to rescue a female that he considered to be in jeopardy, and this one certainly seemed to fit the profile to a tee: young, blonde and very attractive.
A masculine voice came from behind the Englishman. "Colonel Hogan, I presume?"
Surprised, Hogan looked over Newkirk's shoulder for the source of the voice. A uniformed American airman stepped out of the shadows and snapped to a salute. Hogan returned the salute, and then extending his right hand for a handshake, replied, "Yes. And you are?"
"Lieutenant Oliver Wendell Douglas, 817th Bomb Squadron, 483rd Bomb Group. I'm very glad to see you, sir." Douglas smiled widely in greeting his fellow American officer.
"We found them wandering in the woods outside camp, sir. Said 'e was told before 'e was shot down that if 'e ended up in Nazi territory, 'e should find Stalag 13." Newkirk interjected.
Hogan and Kinchloe exchanged glances. Deciding to prod a bit, Hogan casually remarked, "483rd? Still flying out of Hampshire?"
"Why, no sir." Douglas answered. "We're based in Sterparone, in Italy, now."
"And your commander? How is old Stevenson? He still as mean as ever?" Hogan chuckled as he asked the question.
"I don't know any Stevenson, sir. My commander is Lieutenant Colonel Aubrus Hathaway. Real nice fellow. Reminds me a lot of my father." Douglas replied.
Seemingly satisfied, Hogan jerked his head in Lisa's direction. "Who's that, Douglas?"
With a huge smile, Douglas answered, "Colonel Hogan, meet Miss Lisa Gronyitz. She's with the Hungarian Underground. She helped me to escape Hungary after I was shot down. She's been forced to flee her home."
Hogan frowned, and asked, "You mean to tell me you came all the way here from Hungary? How the devil did you manage that?"
Before Douglas could reply, Lisa scrambled forward and extended her hand in greeting. "Hello, Colonel. It's so very nice to meet you." Lisa turned a charming smile on the American officer, who suddenly looked quite interested in her.
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Gronyitz." Taking her hand, Hogan lifted it to his lips without breaking eye contact with Lisa. She watched him, mesmerized by his good looks and charm, until Douglas cleared his throat loudly. Seeming to snap out of a trance, Lisa blinked twice, then looked quickly at Lieutenant Douglas, who appeared displeased by the interaction between the American colonel and the Hungarian woman. The look in Lieutenant Douglas' eyes, however, caused her to smile. Stepping back, she linked her arm with Douglas', finding his startled look of pleasant surprise slightly amusing.
Hogan watched the pair closely, and noticed the expression on Douglas' face when the woman took his arm. So that's the way it goes, huh? He thought to himself. With the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the colonel turned to the Frenchman. "LeBeau, see if you can find something for them to eat. Douglas, we'll talk more after you have some food in you. Miss Gronyitz, Sergeant Carter will show you to a place where you can have some privacy to freshen up, if you want."
"Thank you, Colonel." Lisa answered gratefully, then turned to follow Carter from the large earthen room into one of the tunnel branches.
Lieutenant Douglas watched with concern until Lisa was out of eyesight, then turning to Hogan, said, "Maybe I should go make sure—"
"She's fine, Douglas. There's no one I would trust more with the lady than Carter." Hogan interrupted, slapping a hand on Douglas' shoulder. "Come on, let's see about that chow."
"Yes, sir." Douglas replied, glancing once more over his shoulder as he followed Hogan up the ladder.
Back in the tunnel, Newkirk turned to Kinchloe. "Right good looking bird, she is."
"Better stay away from her, Peter. Looks to me like the lieutenant has his eye on her." Kinchloe answered, as he shook his head and turned back to the radio.
Newkirk pondered that for a moment, then replied, "Pity." Turning, he also climbed the ladder into the barracks above.
++++++++++
"Mademoiselle, dinner is served!" With a flourish, LeBeau whisked the cover from the dish he had prepared.
Lisa's eyes lit up at the food before her, the first real meal she had enjoyed in days. "Why, Corporal, this looks marvelous! Did you prepare it yourself?"
LeBeau, clad in chef's hat and apron, took the compliment as his due and replied, "But of course."
Taking her fork, Lisa tasted the food. Closing her eyes in sheer bliss, she savored the bite for a moment, then remarked, "I have always wished I knew how to cook wonderful meals such as this." As an idea suddenly popped into her head, she asked, "Corporal, do you think you could teach me?"
With a self-confident smirk, LeBeau answered, "I can teach anyone to cook. After all, we Frenchmen have a way in the kitchen."
Smiling in delight, Lisa exclaimed, "Oh, this is wonderful! I can hardly wait to begin our lessons!"
+++++++++
Kinchloe tapped lightly on the door to Colonel Hogan's private quarters. A few minutes earlier, he had received the message they had been waiting for from London. As Hogan bade him enter, Kinchloe passed a small slip of blue paper to the colonel, then waited in silence as his commander read the words he had transcribed.
Looking up, Hogan remarked, "So, Douglas is on the up and up. I thought so." As he stood and walked to the single shuttered window, Hogan continued, "Where is he now?"
Kinchloe's mouth curved upward in a smile. "Last I saw, he was explaining the noble and patriotic elements of farming to Carter and Bailey in there." Kinchloe jerked his head toward the main barracks to indicate the direction he had seen the men.
"Yeah, I've noticed he's a little, shall we say, long-winded?" Hogan thoughtfully rubbed his chin with his hand and raised one eyebrow as he mused, "Farming, huh? I never would have taken Douglas for a farmer."
Kinchloe chuckled, "Oh, no sir. He's a lawyer, through and through. He just wants to be a farmer." He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "You know, it's funny. Every time he starts in with one of his speeches about farming and the American way, I could almost swear I hear—"
When Kinchloe frowned and stopped in the middle of his statement, Hogan asked, "Hear what?" The colonel had a curious look on his face as he awaited the sergeant's answer. "Kinch?"
Kinchloe shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Oh, nothing, sir. It's nothing at all." How could he explain to Colonel Hogan that each time Lieutenant Douglas launched into one of his enthusiastic narratives about farming, Kinchloe thought he heard music. A fife, to be exact. Playing Yankee Doodle Dandy. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head again, Kinchloe repeated, "Nothing."
+++++++++++++
"This country's backbone rests on the farmer. Men like you" Lieutenant Douglas pointed to the deeply enthralled Carter to emphasize his words, "are the foundation of the very freedom for which we fight here, today." A small crowd of young airmen was seated around the mess table in the center of the common room, their attention held by the American lieutenant as he spoke passionately, conveying his feelings eloquently to his fellow soldiers.
Carter looked surprised, and squeaked, "Me?"
"Yes, Sergeant. You. To paraphrase the great Abraham Lincoln, 'Those who profess to favor freedom but are unwilling to fight for it, are the same men who want crops but are unwilling to plow the ground.' The very seeds of liberty were planted by simple men, by men who tilled the soil, by farmers. 'By the rude bridge that arched the flood, their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood—"
"And fired the shot heard round the world." Hogan finished, approaching the group from behind as he exited his private quarters, followed closely by Kinchloe. "Are you an admirer of Emerson, Lieutenant?"
Turning, Douglas came to attention and answered, "More so of the events behind the words, sir."
Hogan stopped him, saying, "At ease. We don't stand on formalities here."
"Thank you, sir." Douglas replied, relaxing.
Looking around, Hogan remarked, "You've got quite an audience here, Douglas."
Douglas looked slightly abashed, answering, "Yes, sir. I've been told that I have a tendency to get a little carried away at times."
At this gross understatement, Kinchloe rolled his eyes, as Hogan hurriedly said, "Yeah, well, why don't we go ahead and have our talk, if you don't mind me interrupting?"
"Of course, sir." The lieutenant followed the colonel into the private room, remaining standing while Hogan closed the door.
"Have a seat, Lieutenant." Hogan indicated a straight chair with a sweep of his hand. When Douglas took the seat he was offered, Hogan continued, "Why don't you fill me in on your trip here? Anything you saw, any problems you encountered..."
"Yes, sir. Well, after I was shot down, I was unable to rejoin my crew. They'd already been apprehended by the Nazis, so to avoid capture, I hid under a bridge…" Douglas began to relate the story of his adventures of the past few days. After seemingly endless questions by Hogan, Douglas finally completed his account with the encounter with Newkirk and Carter outside the tunnel entrance. "I didn't know how to contact you, sir, and I wasn't even sure why. I only knew that we had been instructed to try to reach this camp, if at all possible, and that things would be explained later."
As Hogan opened his mouth to speak, there was a knock on the door. "Come in." he called from where he leaned casually against the wall with his arms folded.
The door opened to admit Kinchloe, who spoke, "Sorry to interrupt sir. We've received another message. I thought you'd like to see it as soon as possible." The radioman handed the slip of paper to his commanding officer, then awaited further instructions.
Hogan read the message in silence, finally looking up and saying, "The Underground confirms they've arrived in the area." Walking across to his locker, he opened the door and removed a large roll of paper, which he unfolded to reveal a map of the area. He spread it out on the desk, smoothing the edges. When the corners still refused to lay flat, Hogan looked around and grabbed a coffee mug and a book that were lying nearby to weight the edges. "According to that message, the encampment should be right about here," he said, pointing to a specific area to the east of Hammelburg. "Kinch, radio London and let them know that we'll reconnoiter the camp ourselves, just to be certain of what we've got, then they can send in the bombers."
"Will do, sir." Kinchloe answered.
Douglas, still seated at the end of the table, asked with puzzlement, "Colonel, isn't that the POW camp that's on the other side of Hammelburg?"
Hogan looked up from the map and answered, "POW camp? No, this is a German military encampment. The Underground out of Cologne sent word ahead that the Krauts were moving the 14th Infantry this direction, and we're going to help make sure they don't give our boys any more trouble."
Douglas shook his head. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I passed that camp on the way here, earlier this evening. It's not Jerries. That camp is full of mostly American soldiers. POWs."
Looking at the American lieutenant with narrowed eyes, Hogan asked, "You're sure? You were close enough to recognize the uniforms?"
"Why, yes sir. We almost walked up on them. I'm absolutely positive." Douglas answered.
"That's the problem with so many civilians in the network." Hogan muttered. Beginning to pace the small room, he remarked, "That must be Hochstetter's reason for commandeering Klink's guards and the extra camp rations." Turning to Kinchloe, he said, "Let's get a couple of guys out there tonight to check things out." Glancing at his watch, he continued, "It's still early. They should have time to get there and back before roll call. Let's get moving."
+++++++++++
"Non, Mademoiselle!" LeBeau cried, waving his hands in frustration and finishing with a chain of French that was obviously uncomplimentary to his student's cooking abilities.
Lisa, wearing one of LeBeau's spare aprons, backed away a small distance from the potbellied stove. Thus far, all their culinary creations had ended in a disastrous pile of what could only be characterized as slop—food that LeBeau was certain was unfit for human consumption. Despite the little Frenchman's assurances that he could teach anyone to cook, he was beginning to come to the realization that it was possible that Lisa Gronyitz might be the one individual on the planet with absolutely no talent whatsoever for food preparation.
"But I followed your directions, Corporal. These hot cakes look all right, don't they?" She picked up a flat, round, hard piece of freshly cooked dough. Turning it over, she examined it closely, obviously proud of her creation.
LeBeau reached out and grabbed the bread from her hands. Through clenched teeth, he said, "It is not a hot cake. It is supposed to be a crepe. Look at this—" LeBeau tossed the hard chunk of dough across the room, just as the door to Hogan's quarters opened.
Kinchloe, who had been watching the proceedings with amusement, called out in alarm to his unsuspecting commander, "Colonel! Incoming!"
Hogan raised his arms to protect his face, ducking just as the cement-like dough hit the door frame above his head with a sharp 'thwack', sending splinters of wood cascading down on him. As he cautiously opened his eyes, LeBeau said sheepishly, "Sorry, mon colonel. Miss Gronyitz is having a cooking lesson." The diminutive Frenchman glared at the Hungarian woman.
"Colonel, would you like to try one? They're crepes." Lisa proudly indicated the stack of dough circles.
Hogan smiled faintly, and replied, "No, I don't think my teeth are up to it. I think I'll pass this time. Maybe the next batch." As he crossed the room to the bunk bed that served as the entrance to the tunnel system, he popped off a quick, informal salute and added, "Don't let me interrupt your lesson. Carry on, LeBeau."
"Oui, Colonel." LeBeau said dejectedly.
Descending the ladder into the tunnel, Hogan heard Lisa remark, "Corporal, how long has Colonel Hogan had problems with his teeth?"
Below ground, in the tunnel system, the colonel reflected on the mission he and his men had undertaken the previous night. He knew it had been a complete success. After the discovery that the information received from Underground sources had not been entirely accurate, he had sent out a team to verify the status of the camp. Using the information provided by Newkirk and Carter, as well as Lieutenant Douglas, Hogan had decided to hit the lightly guarded munitions storage facility, instead of calling London to request a bombing run against the non-existent German army camp. While Major Hochstetter had reassigned a large portion of the available military personnel in the area to guarding the POWs that were being marched cross- country, his actions had left several targets virtually unprotected. It was a strategic blunder on the part of the Gestapo officer, and Hogan knew that the Major would not soon forget the act of sabotage that followed. But, even if Hochstetter increased his investigative work in the area, Hogan had to smile remembering the fantastic fireworks show made by the munitions warehouse as it was blown to smithereens against the starry, moonlit night. Yeah, he thought, it was worth it.
The sound of footsteps, then voices approaching his position snapped Hogan out of his reverie. Looking toward the radio room, he saw Baker seated at the radio, his attention on the two men conversing a few feet away.
"If you're sure it's all right. I mean, you did see 'er first." Newkirk spoke anxiously.
"Oh, no. She's free to see whomever she wants. I have no hold over her." Lieutenant Douglas assured the Englishman.
Chuckling, Newkirk said, "You know, she is a right fine looking bird, at that. The two of you, out there alone all that time, anything go on, Lieutenant?"
"Of course not, Corporal! Miss Gronyitz is every bit a lady. And a fine one at that." Douglas obviously took offense to Newkirk's insinuations.
"All right, all right! No need to get testy, now." Newkirk attempted to placate the American officer. "I appreciate you giving your leave, gov'nor." He extended his hand to Douglas, who took it reluctantly.
"Of course." To Hogan, Douglas' voice sounded hollow and insincere. He's got it bad for that woman and doesn't even realize it, Hogan thought. Catching Baker's eye, Hogan lifted one corner of his mouth in a semblance of a smile and shook his head, seeing the radioman nod in acknowledgment at Douglas' thickheadedness.
Not wanting trouble in the ranks over a woman, Hogan called, "Newkirk. Can I see you a moment?"
Surprised to hear the colonel's voice, Newkirk answered, "Yes, sir," and walked over to where Hogan stood waiting.
"They're out of here tomorrow night. Hands off until then, understood?" Hogan spoke authoritatively. Knowing the Englishman's flirtatious habits, he wanted to make it clear that there was to be nothing going on that could cause a problem between the men, even if Douglas was about to leave.
Newkirk pleaded his case, trying to convince himself as well as the colonel that Lisa would appreciate his attentions, "But sir, I think she and I are connecting on a romantic level. I've seen 'er looking at me, and I know—"
"Hands off. That's an order." Hogan's voice was firm, brooking no further argument.
With crestfallen features, Newkirk answered, "Yes, sir."
Hogan placed a hand on the corporal's shoulder, saying, "Come on. I think LeBeau and his student are looking for a guinea pig."
"You're torturing me, sir." Newkirk whined. He had heard that Lisa had very little talent for cooking, and besides, his interest definitely was not in her culinary abilities. With a long-suffering sigh, he followed Hogan up the ladder into the barracks.
+++++++++++
"Schultz is coming!" Carter called, effectively interrupting Douglas as he launched into another of his lectures on the virtues of rural American life.
LeBeau grabbed a hat from Bailey, and a jacket from a nail on the wall, and slipped them quickly onto Lisa. He shoved her into a seat at the table, then assumed a casual stance as the door opened to admit the rotund German sergeant.
Schultz looked puzzled as the opened the door. Looking around, he appeared to be listening for something.
"What is it, Schultzie?" LeBeau asked.
"Yeah, did you lose something?" Carter chimed in.
Eyes darting back and forth, Schultz answered, "Nein. I thought I heard a radio. Some music."
Carter grinned. "Nah. That's just the music that plays when Lieutenant Douglas talks."
Every head in the room swiveled in Carter's direction. "You heard it too?" "What is it?" "How?" "What?" They all began talking at once, as their sanity was confirmed.
"Wait a minute! Wait just a minute!" Schultz shouted to be heard above the din. As the room quieted, he continued, "Who is Lieutenant Douglas?"
"I am." A handsome dark haired American answered the sergeant.
Looking around the room, Schultz asked suspiciously, "Where did he come from?" As several prisoners opened their mouths to answer his question, he held up one hand in a prohibitive motion and cried, "No! I do not want to know! I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know NOTHING!"
+++++++++++++
As Douglas prepared to bunk down for the night in the quiet of the tunnel branch, his thoughts strayed to the woman he had spent the past few days traveling with. Although she was one of the most exasperating women he had ever met, he knew he was going to miss her company. Once they arrived in England, he would be returned to his unit and hopefully would be cleared to resume flying. But the thought of not seeing her again was tormenting him. Standing, he wandered out into the radio room. Kinchloe was seated at the controls, flipping through a magazine that had seen better days.
"Couldn't sleep, Lieutenant?" Kinchloe asked. Rustling footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the tunnel. The men both looked up as Lisa emerged from the dimly lit darkness.
As she stood there looking at Douglas, Kinchloe cleared his throat and said, "Well, I think I'll just take a little walk. Stretch my legs." He stood, but neither Douglas nor Lisa acknowledged his words. He smiled, amused at the couple, and walked off into the darkness.
The pair stood in silence for a few moments, then Douglas spoke, "We're leaving here tomorrow. Going to England."
Lisa answered softly, "Yes. I've always wanted to live in a big city."
Douglas laughed. "Oh, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Take New York, for instance—"
"I would like to visit there someday, after the war." Lisa spoke quickly, taking a step closer to Douglas. "Do you think you could perhaps show me the city?" she asked hopefully.
"I—yes, of course I will. After all, I owe you so much. I doubt I would have made it out of Hungary without your help. Will you allow me to call on you when we get to London?" He asked tentatively.
Lisa smiled. "I would love to see you again, but aren't you forgetting one little detail, Lieutenant? You're not free to go. You are still my prisoner."
Douglas gazed into her eyes, his feelings overflowing as he returned her smile. "You're right. I am your prisoner."
At his words, Lisa asked with surprise, "You are?"
Douglas stepped closer, reaching out and taking her in his arms. "You've captured my heart." Bending his head, he kissed her softly.
"Oliver," she whispered against his lips after a few moments. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"No," he answered, "For me, it was love at first sneeze."
+++++++++++++
"Douglas, I hope things work out for the two of you." Hogan shook hands with the Lieutenant, as he and the Hungarian woman prepared to accompany a unit of the local Underground along the escape route. If all went as planned, they would rendezvous with the submarine the next night, and be taken to England.
"Thank you, sir. I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate everything you've done for us." Looking around, Douglas couldn't hide his amazement at the operation he had been witness to during the past couple of days. What these men had managed to accomplish was unbelievable! "And sir," he continued, "I'm being completely sincere when I say it has been a great honor to meet you and your men. The work you are doing here, well, it's fantastic."
Hogan looked a little embarrassed at the praise Douglas was lavishing on him and his staff. "Well, thanks, Lieutenant, but it's just a little something to keep us out of trouble while we wait out the war." He grinned at his own self-deprecating humor.
"Goodbye, Colonel Hogan." Lisa stepped forward, extending her hand to Hogan, who ignored her gesture and kissed her on the cheek instead. The prisoners gathered around, Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter and Kinchloe, also bade the pair farewell.
"Lieutenant, take good care of this lovely lady. And that's an order." Hogan said. As he shook hands with Lieutenant Douglas, he added, "And Douglas, a little word of advice—be careful with your teeth!"
With a slightly puzzled look, Douglas answered, "Yes, sir. I will." Turning to Lisa, the Lieutenant said, "Shall we go now, dear?"
The Hungarian woman smiled and agreed, "Yes, darling."
Their footsteps echoed from the dark recesses of the tunnel, and the men, one by one, climbed the ladder back into the barracks above. As Kinchloe placed his foot on the bottom rung to begin his ascent, he realized Hogan was whistling. "Colonel, that's Yankee Doodle Dandy," he said with amazement.
"Yeah," Hogan answered. "It's funny, but for the past couple of days, I just haven't been able to get that tune out of my head."
++++++++++
The End
++++++++++
by Rebecca Sowell
++++++++++
Part II
++++++++++
"There's 'ardly anyone guarding the place." Newkirk remarked in whispered tones.
"Yeah, makes me wish we had brought some dynamite with us tonight." Carter added with his usual exuberance for anything that would explode. "Four or five grenades, maybe a little nitro—"
"I get the idea, Andrew." Newkirk interrupted his companion before he could go any further. Still puzzled by the lack of German guards, the Englishman said, "Let's take a look 'round the back side, see what's what there." Carter nodded his agreement, and the two slipped back into the brush that grew thickly around the edge of the forest. Peering around the trees, the scene before the men amazed them even more.
The munitions storage facility was usually heavily guarded, but on this night a lone sentry was seen walking the perimeter fence. "We'd better 'ead back to camp. Something's amiss 'ere." Newkirk stated matter-of-factly. The two men left the way they had come, through the bushes, into the woods, under cover of darkness. Dressed head to toe in black clothing and with black smudges on their faces, they vanished into the darkness.
++++++++++++
"Shhhh!" Lieutenant Douglas hissed as he clapped his hand over Lisa's mouth. When he was certain that she would remain quiet, he removed his hand, and whispered, "There goes another patrol. That's the fifth one that's passed since we've been hiding here." He knew there must be something important up ahead.
They had finally made it to the outskirts of Hammelburg, and if his memory of the briefing map served him correctly, Stalag 13 was just to the northeast of the town. The hay wagon he and Lisa had ridden in for most of the morning had finally reached its destination a few kilometers south of town. They had sneaked off into the woods when the farmer had brought the wagon to a halt, and for the better part of the afternoon had been on foot. Douglas had hoped to follow this road to reach the prison camp, but it appeared to be too crowded with soldiers.
"I'm going to take a look over that ridge back there and see if I can see another route around the town." Douglas said, and waiting until Lisa nodded her understanding, he crawled on his belly to the edge of the hillside. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Below the hill, and as far as he could see, were soldiers. But something didn't look quite right. He scanned the encampment, taking in the Germans in their overcoats and shiny jackboots, each soldier with his rifle at the ready as he guarded the troops in the camp.
That's it, thought Douglas. Why are the Germans guarding their own troops? Then he understood what was wrong with the scene: the majority of the troops were American, with a sprinkling of uniforms from the various Allied countries, as well. "A prison camp." Douglas whispered to himself. But surely this wasn't Stalag 13? From the eyewitness descriptions other servicemen had given back at the airbase, and from the training films he had watched, he knew that the German stalags usually had electrified wire, as well as dogs, guard towers and all the other standard features of a prison. They weren't just camped out in the open like this, with fire pits and makeshift shelters. Turning, he inched his way back to where Lisa waited.
"We'll circle around through the woods to the east, then north," Douglas said, when he rejoined the Hungarian woman. Grabbing her hand, he led her off into the darkness.
+++++++++
"Shhh, Carter. Stop making so much noise. You'll 'ave a patrol down on us for sure." Newkirk chastened, as he heard the young American sergeant noisily plodding through the dry leaves behind him.
"That wasn't me." Carter answered. "Not this time." He grinned, pleased that, for once, he wasn't the guilty party.
Annoyed, Newkirk hissed, "Well if it wasn't you, then who the bloody 'ell was it?"
When Carter didn't answer, Newkirk turned around to speak to his friend face to face. Finding himself looking into the barrel of a pistol, he raised his hands in surrender.
++++++++++++
"Colonel, they're back!" The Frenchman, LeBeau, rushed into the radio room where Hogan and Kinchloe were flipping through a codebook.
At LeBeau's announcement, both men turned to look at the opening to the tunnel branch that led in from the outside of camp. Carter came into the room first, followed by Newkirk.
"How'd it go? Everything all right?" Hogan frowned as Newkirk and Carter hesitated. He knew the two men too well, and it was obvious that something unexpected had occurred during the scouting mission. "Well, what is it?"
"Well, sir, we brought back some guests." Newkirk ventured, as Lisa peered around the tunnel support behind the two men, her eyes wide with astonishment at the scene in front of her.
Grinning widely, Carter interjected, "You mean they brought us back!" The young sergeant snickered a little as he remembered their shock at having been taken by surprise by the American lieutenant and his associate, the lovely Hungarian woman. Ignoring Newkirk's silencing glare, Carter added, "Right, Peter?"
With a look of annoyed exasperation, Hogan exclaimed, "Newkirk! You didn't—not again!" That was all they needed! It wouldn't be the first time Newkirk had decided to rescue a female that he considered to be in jeopardy, and this one certainly seemed to fit the profile to a tee: young, blonde and very attractive.
A masculine voice came from behind the Englishman. "Colonel Hogan, I presume?"
Surprised, Hogan looked over Newkirk's shoulder for the source of the voice. A uniformed American airman stepped out of the shadows and snapped to a salute. Hogan returned the salute, and then extending his right hand for a handshake, replied, "Yes. And you are?"
"Lieutenant Oliver Wendell Douglas, 817th Bomb Squadron, 483rd Bomb Group. I'm very glad to see you, sir." Douglas smiled widely in greeting his fellow American officer.
"We found them wandering in the woods outside camp, sir. Said 'e was told before 'e was shot down that if 'e ended up in Nazi territory, 'e should find Stalag 13." Newkirk interjected.
Hogan and Kinchloe exchanged glances. Deciding to prod a bit, Hogan casually remarked, "483rd? Still flying out of Hampshire?"
"Why, no sir." Douglas answered. "We're based in Sterparone, in Italy, now."
"And your commander? How is old Stevenson? He still as mean as ever?" Hogan chuckled as he asked the question.
"I don't know any Stevenson, sir. My commander is Lieutenant Colonel Aubrus Hathaway. Real nice fellow. Reminds me a lot of my father." Douglas replied.
Seemingly satisfied, Hogan jerked his head in Lisa's direction. "Who's that, Douglas?"
With a huge smile, Douglas answered, "Colonel Hogan, meet Miss Lisa Gronyitz. She's with the Hungarian Underground. She helped me to escape Hungary after I was shot down. She's been forced to flee her home."
Hogan frowned, and asked, "You mean to tell me you came all the way here from Hungary? How the devil did you manage that?"
Before Douglas could reply, Lisa scrambled forward and extended her hand in greeting. "Hello, Colonel. It's so very nice to meet you." Lisa turned a charming smile on the American officer, who suddenly looked quite interested in her.
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Gronyitz." Taking her hand, Hogan lifted it to his lips without breaking eye contact with Lisa. She watched him, mesmerized by his good looks and charm, until Douglas cleared his throat loudly. Seeming to snap out of a trance, Lisa blinked twice, then looked quickly at Lieutenant Douglas, who appeared displeased by the interaction between the American colonel and the Hungarian woman. The look in Lieutenant Douglas' eyes, however, caused her to smile. Stepping back, she linked her arm with Douglas', finding his startled look of pleasant surprise slightly amusing.
Hogan watched the pair closely, and noticed the expression on Douglas' face when the woman took his arm. So that's the way it goes, huh? He thought to himself. With the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the colonel turned to the Frenchman. "LeBeau, see if you can find something for them to eat. Douglas, we'll talk more after you have some food in you. Miss Gronyitz, Sergeant Carter will show you to a place where you can have some privacy to freshen up, if you want."
"Thank you, Colonel." Lisa answered gratefully, then turned to follow Carter from the large earthen room into one of the tunnel branches.
Lieutenant Douglas watched with concern until Lisa was out of eyesight, then turning to Hogan, said, "Maybe I should go make sure—"
"She's fine, Douglas. There's no one I would trust more with the lady than Carter." Hogan interrupted, slapping a hand on Douglas' shoulder. "Come on, let's see about that chow."
"Yes, sir." Douglas replied, glancing once more over his shoulder as he followed Hogan up the ladder.
Back in the tunnel, Newkirk turned to Kinchloe. "Right good looking bird, she is."
"Better stay away from her, Peter. Looks to me like the lieutenant has his eye on her." Kinchloe answered, as he shook his head and turned back to the radio.
Newkirk pondered that for a moment, then replied, "Pity." Turning, he also climbed the ladder into the barracks above.
++++++++++
"Mademoiselle, dinner is served!" With a flourish, LeBeau whisked the cover from the dish he had prepared.
Lisa's eyes lit up at the food before her, the first real meal she had enjoyed in days. "Why, Corporal, this looks marvelous! Did you prepare it yourself?"
LeBeau, clad in chef's hat and apron, took the compliment as his due and replied, "But of course."
Taking her fork, Lisa tasted the food. Closing her eyes in sheer bliss, she savored the bite for a moment, then remarked, "I have always wished I knew how to cook wonderful meals such as this." As an idea suddenly popped into her head, she asked, "Corporal, do you think you could teach me?"
With a self-confident smirk, LeBeau answered, "I can teach anyone to cook. After all, we Frenchmen have a way in the kitchen."
Smiling in delight, Lisa exclaimed, "Oh, this is wonderful! I can hardly wait to begin our lessons!"
+++++++++
Kinchloe tapped lightly on the door to Colonel Hogan's private quarters. A few minutes earlier, he had received the message they had been waiting for from London. As Hogan bade him enter, Kinchloe passed a small slip of blue paper to the colonel, then waited in silence as his commander read the words he had transcribed.
Looking up, Hogan remarked, "So, Douglas is on the up and up. I thought so." As he stood and walked to the single shuttered window, Hogan continued, "Where is he now?"
Kinchloe's mouth curved upward in a smile. "Last I saw, he was explaining the noble and patriotic elements of farming to Carter and Bailey in there." Kinchloe jerked his head toward the main barracks to indicate the direction he had seen the men.
"Yeah, I've noticed he's a little, shall we say, long-winded?" Hogan thoughtfully rubbed his chin with his hand and raised one eyebrow as he mused, "Farming, huh? I never would have taken Douglas for a farmer."
Kinchloe chuckled, "Oh, no sir. He's a lawyer, through and through. He just wants to be a farmer." He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "You know, it's funny. Every time he starts in with one of his speeches about farming and the American way, I could almost swear I hear—"
When Kinchloe frowned and stopped in the middle of his statement, Hogan asked, "Hear what?" The colonel had a curious look on his face as he awaited the sergeant's answer. "Kinch?"
Kinchloe shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Oh, nothing, sir. It's nothing at all." How could he explain to Colonel Hogan that each time Lieutenant Douglas launched into one of his enthusiastic narratives about farming, Kinchloe thought he heard music. A fife, to be exact. Playing Yankee Doodle Dandy. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head again, Kinchloe repeated, "Nothing."
+++++++++++++
"This country's backbone rests on the farmer. Men like you" Lieutenant Douglas pointed to the deeply enthralled Carter to emphasize his words, "are the foundation of the very freedom for which we fight here, today." A small crowd of young airmen was seated around the mess table in the center of the common room, their attention held by the American lieutenant as he spoke passionately, conveying his feelings eloquently to his fellow soldiers.
Carter looked surprised, and squeaked, "Me?"
"Yes, Sergeant. You. To paraphrase the great Abraham Lincoln, 'Those who profess to favor freedom but are unwilling to fight for it, are the same men who want crops but are unwilling to plow the ground.' The very seeds of liberty were planted by simple men, by men who tilled the soil, by farmers. 'By the rude bridge that arched the flood, their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood—"
"And fired the shot heard round the world." Hogan finished, approaching the group from behind as he exited his private quarters, followed closely by Kinchloe. "Are you an admirer of Emerson, Lieutenant?"
Turning, Douglas came to attention and answered, "More so of the events behind the words, sir."
Hogan stopped him, saying, "At ease. We don't stand on formalities here."
"Thank you, sir." Douglas replied, relaxing.
Looking around, Hogan remarked, "You've got quite an audience here, Douglas."
Douglas looked slightly abashed, answering, "Yes, sir. I've been told that I have a tendency to get a little carried away at times."
At this gross understatement, Kinchloe rolled his eyes, as Hogan hurriedly said, "Yeah, well, why don't we go ahead and have our talk, if you don't mind me interrupting?"
"Of course, sir." The lieutenant followed the colonel into the private room, remaining standing while Hogan closed the door.
"Have a seat, Lieutenant." Hogan indicated a straight chair with a sweep of his hand. When Douglas took the seat he was offered, Hogan continued, "Why don't you fill me in on your trip here? Anything you saw, any problems you encountered..."
"Yes, sir. Well, after I was shot down, I was unable to rejoin my crew. They'd already been apprehended by the Nazis, so to avoid capture, I hid under a bridge…" Douglas began to relate the story of his adventures of the past few days. After seemingly endless questions by Hogan, Douglas finally completed his account with the encounter with Newkirk and Carter outside the tunnel entrance. "I didn't know how to contact you, sir, and I wasn't even sure why. I only knew that we had been instructed to try to reach this camp, if at all possible, and that things would be explained later."
As Hogan opened his mouth to speak, there was a knock on the door. "Come in." he called from where he leaned casually against the wall with his arms folded.
The door opened to admit Kinchloe, who spoke, "Sorry to interrupt sir. We've received another message. I thought you'd like to see it as soon as possible." The radioman handed the slip of paper to his commanding officer, then awaited further instructions.
Hogan read the message in silence, finally looking up and saying, "The Underground confirms they've arrived in the area." Walking across to his locker, he opened the door and removed a large roll of paper, which he unfolded to reveal a map of the area. He spread it out on the desk, smoothing the edges. When the corners still refused to lay flat, Hogan looked around and grabbed a coffee mug and a book that were lying nearby to weight the edges. "According to that message, the encampment should be right about here," he said, pointing to a specific area to the east of Hammelburg. "Kinch, radio London and let them know that we'll reconnoiter the camp ourselves, just to be certain of what we've got, then they can send in the bombers."
"Will do, sir." Kinchloe answered.
Douglas, still seated at the end of the table, asked with puzzlement, "Colonel, isn't that the POW camp that's on the other side of Hammelburg?"
Hogan looked up from the map and answered, "POW camp? No, this is a German military encampment. The Underground out of Cologne sent word ahead that the Krauts were moving the 14th Infantry this direction, and we're going to help make sure they don't give our boys any more trouble."
Douglas shook his head. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I passed that camp on the way here, earlier this evening. It's not Jerries. That camp is full of mostly American soldiers. POWs."
Looking at the American lieutenant with narrowed eyes, Hogan asked, "You're sure? You were close enough to recognize the uniforms?"
"Why, yes sir. We almost walked up on them. I'm absolutely positive." Douglas answered.
"That's the problem with so many civilians in the network." Hogan muttered. Beginning to pace the small room, he remarked, "That must be Hochstetter's reason for commandeering Klink's guards and the extra camp rations." Turning to Kinchloe, he said, "Let's get a couple of guys out there tonight to check things out." Glancing at his watch, he continued, "It's still early. They should have time to get there and back before roll call. Let's get moving."
+++++++++++
"Non, Mademoiselle!" LeBeau cried, waving his hands in frustration and finishing with a chain of French that was obviously uncomplimentary to his student's cooking abilities.
Lisa, wearing one of LeBeau's spare aprons, backed away a small distance from the potbellied stove. Thus far, all their culinary creations had ended in a disastrous pile of what could only be characterized as slop—food that LeBeau was certain was unfit for human consumption. Despite the little Frenchman's assurances that he could teach anyone to cook, he was beginning to come to the realization that it was possible that Lisa Gronyitz might be the one individual on the planet with absolutely no talent whatsoever for food preparation.
"But I followed your directions, Corporal. These hot cakes look all right, don't they?" She picked up a flat, round, hard piece of freshly cooked dough. Turning it over, she examined it closely, obviously proud of her creation.
LeBeau reached out and grabbed the bread from her hands. Through clenched teeth, he said, "It is not a hot cake. It is supposed to be a crepe. Look at this—" LeBeau tossed the hard chunk of dough across the room, just as the door to Hogan's quarters opened.
Kinchloe, who had been watching the proceedings with amusement, called out in alarm to his unsuspecting commander, "Colonel! Incoming!"
Hogan raised his arms to protect his face, ducking just as the cement-like dough hit the door frame above his head with a sharp 'thwack', sending splinters of wood cascading down on him. As he cautiously opened his eyes, LeBeau said sheepishly, "Sorry, mon colonel. Miss Gronyitz is having a cooking lesson." The diminutive Frenchman glared at the Hungarian woman.
"Colonel, would you like to try one? They're crepes." Lisa proudly indicated the stack of dough circles.
Hogan smiled faintly, and replied, "No, I don't think my teeth are up to it. I think I'll pass this time. Maybe the next batch." As he crossed the room to the bunk bed that served as the entrance to the tunnel system, he popped off a quick, informal salute and added, "Don't let me interrupt your lesson. Carry on, LeBeau."
"Oui, Colonel." LeBeau said dejectedly.
Descending the ladder into the tunnel, Hogan heard Lisa remark, "Corporal, how long has Colonel Hogan had problems with his teeth?"
Below ground, in the tunnel system, the colonel reflected on the mission he and his men had undertaken the previous night. He knew it had been a complete success. After the discovery that the information received from Underground sources had not been entirely accurate, he had sent out a team to verify the status of the camp. Using the information provided by Newkirk and Carter, as well as Lieutenant Douglas, Hogan had decided to hit the lightly guarded munitions storage facility, instead of calling London to request a bombing run against the non-existent German army camp. While Major Hochstetter had reassigned a large portion of the available military personnel in the area to guarding the POWs that were being marched cross- country, his actions had left several targets virtually unprotected. It was a strategic blunder on the part of the Gestapo officer, and Hogan knew that the Major would not soon forget the act of sabotage that followed. But, even if Hochstetter increased his investigative work in the area, Hogan had to smile remembering the fantastic fireworks show made by the munitions warehouse as it was blown to smithereens against the starry, moonlit night. Yeah, he thought, it was worth it.
The sound of footsteps, then voices approaching his position snapped Hogan out of his reverie. Looking toward the radio room, he saw Baker seated at the radio, his attention on the two men conversing a few feet away.
"If you're sure it's all right. I mean, you did see 'er first." Newkirk spoke anxiously.
"Oh, no. She's free to see whomever she wants. I have no hold over her." Lieutenant Douglas assured the Englishman.
Chuckling, Newkirk said, "You know, she is a right fine looking bird, at that. The two of you, out there alone all that time, anything go on, Lieutenant?"
"Of course not, Corporal! Miss Gronyitz is every bit a lady. And a fine one at that." Douglas obviously took offense to Newkirk's insinuations.
"All right, all right! No need to get testy, now." Newkirk attempted to placate the American officer. "I appreciate you giving your leave, gov'nor." He extended his hand to Douglas, who took it reluctantly.
"Of course." To Hogan, Douglas' voice sounded hollow and insincere. He's got it bad for that woman and doesn't even realize it, Hogan thought. Catching Baker's eye, Hogan lifted one corner of his mouth in a semblance of a smile and shook his head, seeing the radioman nod in acknowledgment at Douglas' thickheadedness.
Not wanting trouble in the ranks over a woman, Hogan called, "Newkirk. Can I see you a moment?"
Surprised to hear the colonel's voice, Newkirk answered, "Yes, sir," and walked over to where Hogan stood waiting.
"They're out of here tomorrow night. Hands off until then, understood?" Hogan spoke authoritatively. Knowing the Englishman's flirtatious habits, he wanted to make it clear that there was to be nothing going on that could cause a problem between the men, even if Douglas was about to leave.
Newkirk pleaded his case, trying to convince himself as well as the colonel that Lisa would appreciate his attentions, "But sir, I think she and I are connecting on a romantic level. I've seen 'er looking at me, and I know—"
"Hands off. That's an order." Hogan's voice was firm, brooking no further argument.
With crestfallen features, Newkirk answered, "Yes, sir."
Hogan placed a hand on the corporal's shoulder, saying, "Come on. I think LeBeau and his student are looking for a guinea pig."
"You're torturing me, sir." Newkirk whined. He had heard that Lisa had very little talent for cooking, and besides, his interest definitely was not in her culinary abilities. With a long-suffering sigh, he followed Hogan up the ladder into the barracks.
+++++++++++
"Schultz is coming!" Carter called, effectively interrupting Douglas as he launched into another of his lectures on the virtues of rural American life.
LeBeau grabbed a hat from Bailey, and a jacket from a nail on the wall, and slipped them quickly onto Lisa. He shoved her into a seat at the table, then assumed a casual stance as the door opened to admit the rotund German sergeant.
Schultz looked puzzled as the opened the door. Looking around, he appeared to be listening for something.
"What is it, Schultzie?" LeBeau asked.
"Yeah, did you lose something?" Carter chimed in.
Eyes darting back and forth, Schultz answered, "Nein. I thought I heard a radio. Some music."
Carter grinned. "Nah. That's just the music that plays when Lieutenant Douglas talks."
Every head in the room swiveled in Carter's direction. "You heard it too?" "What is it?" "How?" "What?" They all began talking at once, as their sanity was confirmed.
"Wait a minute! Wait just a minute!" Schultz shouted to be heard above the din. As the room quieted, he continued, "Who is Lieutenant Douglas?"
"I am." A handsome dark haired American answered the sergeant.
Looking around the room, Schultz asked suspiciously, "Where did he come from?" As several prisoners opened their mouths to answer his question, he held up one hand in a prohibitive motion and cried, "No! I do not want to know! I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know NOTHING!"
+++++++++++++
As Douglas prepared to bunk down for the night in the quiet of the tunnel branch, his thoughts strayed to the woman he had spent the past few days traveling with. Although she was one of the most exasperating women he had ever met, he knew he was going to miss her company. Once they arrived in England, he would be returned to his unit and hopefully would be cleared to resume flying. But the thought of not seeing her again was tormenting him. Standing, he wandered out into the radio room. Kinchloe was seated at the controls, flipping through a magazine that had seen better days.
"Couldn't sleep, Lieutenant?" Kinchloe asked. Rustling footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the tunnel. The men both looked up as Lisa emerged from the dimly lit darkness.
As she stood there looking at Douglas, Kinchloe cleared his throat and said, "Well, I think I'll just take a little walk. Stretch my legs." He stood, but neither Douglas nor Lisa acknowledged his words. He smiled, amused at the couple, and walked off into the darkness.
The pair stood in silence for a few moments, then Douglas spoke, "We're leaving here tomorrow. Going to England."
Lisa answered softly, "Yes. I've always wanted to live in a big city."
Douglas laughed. "Oh, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Take New York, for instance—"
"I would like to visit there someday, after the war." Lisa spoke quickly, taking a step closer to Douglas. "Do you think you could perhaps show me the city?" she asked hopefully.
"I—yes, of course I will. After all, I owe you so much. I doubt I would have made it out of Hungary without your help. Will you allow me to call on you when we get to London?" He asked tentatively.
Lisa smiled. "I would love to see you again, but aren't you forgetting one little detail, Lieutenant? You're not free to go. You are still my prisoner."
Douglas gazed into her eyes, his feelings overflowing as he returned her smile. "You're right. I am your prisoner."
At his words, Lisa asked with surprise, "You are?"
Douglas stepped closer, reaching out and taking her in his arms. "You've captured my heart." Bending his head, he kissed her softly.
"Oliver," she whispered against his lips after a few moments. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"No," he answered, "For me, it was love at first sneeze."
+++++++++++++
"Douglas, I hope things work out for the two of you." Hogan shook hands with the Lieutenant, as he and the Hungarian woman prepared to accompany a unit of the local Underground along the escape route. If all went as planned, they would rendezvous with the submarine the next night, and be taken to England.
"Thank you, sir. I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate everything you've done for us." Looking around, Douglas couldn't hide his amazement at the operation he had been witness to during the past couple of days. What these men had managed to accomplish was unbelievable! "And sir," he continued, "I'm being completely sincere when I say it has been a great honor to meet you and your men. The work you are doing here, well, it's fantastic."
Hogan looked a little embarrassed at the praise Douglas was lavishing on him and his staff. "Well, thanks, Lieutenant, but it's just a little something to keep us out of trouble while we wait out the war." He grinned at his own self-deprecating humor.
"Goodbye, Colonel Hogan." Lisa stepped forward, extending her hand to Hogan, who ignored her gesture and kissed her on the cheek instead. The prisoners gathered around, Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter and Kinchloe, also bade the pair farewell.
"Lieutenant, take good care of this lovely lady. And that's an order." Hogan said. As he shook hands with Lieutenant Douglas, he added, "And Douglas, a little word of advice—be careful with your teeth!"
With a slightly puzzled look, Douglas answered, "Yes, sir. I will." Turning to Lisa, the Lieutenant said, "Shall we go now, dear?"
The Hungarian woman smiled and agreed, "Yes, darling."
Their footsteps echoed from the dark recesses of the tunnel, and the men, one by one, climbed the ladder back into the barracks above. As Kinchloe placed his foot on the bottom rung to begin his ascent, he realized Hogan was whistling. "Colonel, that's Yankee Doodle Dandy," he said with amazement.
"Yeah," Hogan answered. "It's funny, but for the past couple of days, I just haven't been able to get that tune out of my head."
++++++++++
The End
++++++++++