1: A Little Journey with the Inspector General – Part I
Corporal Langenscheidt gave Sergeant Schultz a quizzical look. "What do you mean, 'he is coming back?'"
"Inspector Aschenbrener. He is coming this afternoon to meet with Commandant Klink," Schultz said.
"Is this just a meeting or another inspection?"
"That, I cannot say. If his attitude last time was anything to go by, he will probably want to have all of us in formation. I hope Kielholz got some sleep last night."
"I doubt any of us will be passing out again," Langenscheidt replied.
"Maybe, maybe not. I just know you and the inspector do not have good history with each other."
"We had not even been properly introduced at the time. I am willing to start fresh and not even mention the incident to him."
"I just hope Inspector Aschenbrener is willing to start fresh as well. He does not seem like a very forgiving man." Schultz turned and walked away as Corporal Kielholz approached.
"What was that about?" Kielholz asked.
"Aschenbrener, the inspector-general who came last autumn, is going to be coming back this afternoon," Langenscheidt explained.
"The same one who was very angry at my passing out, and punched you when you tried to help?"
"Yes."
"Well, good—" Kielholz cracked his knuckles. "I say it is time for some payback."
"Did I not tell you I do not want you stooping to his level?"
"You did, but—"
"It would make me feel better if you did not do anything stupid while he is here."
"What's this about 'payback?'" The transparent figure of a British pilot appeared over Langenscheidt's shoulder.
"This is the last thing I would want you involved in, Westworth," Langenscheidt said.
"And why is that?"
"You would probably take it too far."
"Oh, you just don't think I could actually succeed."
"No, I said exactly what I think. Yes, I know Aschenbrener hurt me, but we do not have to bring it up when he arrives. We can start fresh."
"It doesn't sound like he is the type to easily forget things like that. Besides, wouldn't it make you feel better if he apologized?"
"Your method would probably involve torturing him."
"Torture? No. I can humble him."
"Right."
"Have a little faith in me, Langenscheidt. Do you not recall my duty as thank to you is to protect you?"
"Oh, I remember alright, but I do not need your help with this. I appreciate the thought, though." Langenscheidt gave Westworth an apologetic look. "I would greatly appreciate you not interfering. Can you do that?"
"I won't interfere as long as you are not in any danger. The second that this inspector makes a move against you, all bets are off."
"Fair enough."
"Thank you." Westworth faded.
Kielholz looked at Langenscheidt, a concerned expression on his face. "I really hope Westworth actually behaves himself today. He might not be a monster anymore, but he is still highly unpredictable."
"Honestly, Erich, I think he likes it that way."
Life around Stalag 13 continued as usual when a staff car rolled into camp. Langenscheidt watched from his post just under one of the watchtowers, closest to where the former Barracks One had once stood before it was burned down. He glanced over his shoulder to see Westworth was watching as well. Even the pet rat on Westworth's left shoulder was watching the car attentively.
Out of the car stepped a man of average height and a lean build. Langenscheidt recognized the disappointed glare the man's face seemed permanently stuck in. His two aides stood with their backs more rigid than a steel beam and their faces bore no emotion. Aschenbrener gestured for them to follow him as he went into Colonel Klink's office.
"He certainly seems to be a miserable fellow," Westworth said.
"He got us up at four in the morning for inspection. It was the coldest day of the previous autumn." Langenscheidt walked over to where Westworth was standing. "Erich had been on night patrol and did not get enough sleep. He fainted in front of Aschenbrener."
"I take it that made Aschenbrener's day?"
"He may have kicked Erich if I had not stepped in. He probably was not expecting anyone to actually do something, so he took a swing at me and caught me in the eye. I doubt it was anything personal." Langenscheidt looked over at Klink's quarters. "Nothing here is really done 'by the book.' Every time someone comes in and tries to change that, something—" Langenscheidt's gaze switched to Barracks Two, "ruins it spectacularly. I am surprised the camp has not been forcibly shut down."
"Well, I believe the same forces that turn camp life on its head are the same ones that keep it open."
Langenscheidt folded his arms over his chest. "I know… Colonel Hogan and his men get up to strange things, but do you know exactly what they are doing? I have seen enough to know they are not entirely innocent of the things that happen around Hammelburg."
"I have been observing them enough to know that you are correct, but your sake, I cannot disclose that information to you."
"Why? If the Gestapo captures me, you would be able to protect me, right?"
"You have been through a lot over the last few years, Langenscheidt, to the point where I fear adjusting to civilian life after the war is going to be a challenge for you. I would rather you not go through anything else as tragic and painful as what my monster put you through, or your training accident. The Gestapo wouldn't exactly show you mercy for hiding this information for so long. Knowing 'nothing' and pretending that you were a victim of the Underground's schemes is your best way of keeping safe until the war is over and they are no longer a threat to you. Plus, if the Underground itself found out you knew, they would probably arrange for you to be… offed."
Langenscheidt stayed quiet for a moment. "I suppose you have a point. The less I know, the better."
"Exactly, but I will gladly tell you everything after the war. We can make some hot tea and I can tell you and Kielholz stories all night. I'm sure you both will be thoroughly entertained."
"I have a feeling we certainly will, though there is a part of me that is a bit terrified right now."
Westworth grinned a little. "You will be surprised at how much you've been unaware of this whole time."
"Honestly, I am not sure if I should be surprised or… disappointed, because all this will prove is that I have poor situational awareness. Then again…" Langenscheidt glanced at Westworth, "I have some sympathies for the Underground, but that changed after what happened this past autumn with Erich's brother getting injured in that bridge bombing. What if… What if I let something go that could end up getting Tobias killed?"
"I will do my best to warn you should such an event happen, but I'm not all-powerful."
Langenscheidt nodded. He was about to continue the conversation when he noticed movement in the corner of his eye, and spotted Aschenbrener marching over. Westworth swiftly turned invisible, but Langenscheidt could sense he was still present, quietly observing. Langenscheidt stood at attention when Aschenbrener walked closer. He took notice of the curiously out-of-regulation blue knit scarf around Aschenbrener's neck, but didn't dare say a word.
"Corporal… Langenscheidt, is it?" Aschenbrener said.
"Yes, sir," Langenscheidt replied.
"Do you remember our little altercation last October? When you dove to help your comrade even though you were ordered to remain in formation?"
"I do, sir."
"I am told by Colonel Klink that you and this other guard are close friends. Tell me, Corporal, in a situation where you are presented with a choice of leaving your friend to die or a hundred men to die, which would you choose?"
"Well, sir, I have discussed a similar scenario before with Erich—"
"Corporal Kielholz. You are on duty, Corporal, address him using his surname."
Langenscheidt bit his lip. "…With Corporal Kielholz, and he would want me to save the hundred men, so I would save the hundred men. Sir."
"I see."
"Even if we were not friends, I would still try to help Er—Kielholz, sir. I cannot leave a wounded man behind."
"He was not wounded, though. He passed out from exhaustion."
"I learned that after the fact, sir."
"But you knew he had been on a night patrol, Corporal. Surely, you would have suspected that he was merely asleep." Aschenbrener's expression went from something somewhat amicable to something much more threatening. He was smiling, but that smile didn't feel happy in the slightest.
What exactly are you trying to get at, Inspector? Langenscheidt thought as he tried to maintain a neutral face while his stomach was knotting up.
"I understand you did not have the time to strengthen your nerve and make your emotions a secondary priority while you were in training due to your… unfortunate injury. Do tell, has that been affecting your judgement, Corporal?"
"N-No, sir."
"Oh, you may not think so, but I received permission from Colonel Klink to test that. Over the course of the next three days, I will be testing your problem-solving skills, your reflexes, your memory—"
At the word "memory," Langenscheidt gulped.
"—and your ability to make logical and rational decisions. Is that clear?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Your cooperation is appreciated, Corporal. I hope you can change my original assessment of you. We will start after your noon meal. Dismissed."
When Aschenbrener walked away, Langenscheidt felt like he wanted to cry. He turned to Westworth when the ghost made himself visible again. "I will not be able to pass this! He will see my injury still affects me and get me removed from duty!"
Westworth shook his head. "You will be alright, Langenscheidt. I have… a few ideas." He gave Langenscheidt a sly grin. "You thought you wouldn't need my help."
"This is not funny!"
"I will still affirm that I was right."
"Fine! You were right, but I do not want you to actually hurt Aschenbrener."
"I may have to put him in danger to show him just how capable of a soldier you are. For that, I will need—" Westworth looked toward Barracks Two, "some help."
"No. No, no, no, Westworth, this is my challenge! They will take it too far and Aschenbrener will get hurt!"
"But, are you capable of preventing him from getting hurt?"
"How should I know?!"
"You will find out, my friend. You will find out." Westworth faded, leaving Langenscheidt wondering and fearing what the ghost could possibly be thinking of.
Aschenbrener strolled up to Langenscheidt shortly before the young corporal entered the mess hall. The inspector was pinching the tassels of his scarf between two fingers as he looked Langenscheidt in the eye. "Hello, Corporal."
"Hello, Inspector," Langenscheidt replied, finding it difficult to return eye contact. "Do you need something, sir?"
"Oh, no, I would just like to let you know that cats have five claws on their front paws."
Langenscheidt raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, sir?"
Aschenbrener smiled a little. "Keep that in mind." He walked away, continuing to toy with his scarf.
Langenscheidt shook his head before entering the mess hall. As he expected, Kielholz stood and waved to him. Smiling, Langenscheidt grabbed a tray, received his lunch, and went over to sit across from his friend. "Hello, Erich."
"Karl. How are you?"
Langenscheidt shrugged. "Inspector Aschenbrener is testing my mental capabilities because of what happened last October."
"What a petty man." Kielholz shoveled a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Does he know about your injury?"
Langenscheidt nodded. "I am terrified that he will find it still affects me, and that he will order me dismissed from the Luftwaffe entirely because of it."
"As long as it does not bother you while he is testing you, it probably will not be a problem."
"That is the problem, though, Erich, my memory can fog over without warning. It could happen now, or in an hour. I-I never know when it will happen. This could be our last day together—"
"Karl—" Kielholz reached over to squeeze Langenscheidt's arm. "Relax. We can figure this out together. What has Aschenbrener done with you so far?"
"Nothing, but he came up to me before I entered the mess hall and said, 'Cats have five claws on their front paws.' What do you think that means?"
"Memory. He is going to ask you about it later on."
"Do you think I can remember that?"
"Did you have cats growing up?"
"Yes, but I never paid attention to how many claws are on their paws."
"Did you ever trim their claws?"
"A few times."
"Can you recall those moments?"
Langenscheidt nodded a little. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands as he tried to remember taking care of cats growing up. There was the black and white housecat that his parents had found as a kitten about a month before he was born. She was found frequently in his room, often snuggled in his crib with him. When he started walking, the cat was always with him, traveling with him into the wild jungle that was the garden. He had to be stopped from taking her to school on his first day, which was hard at first, but he eventually got used to not having the cat or any of his stuffed animal companions during certain hours of the day.
That cat became his responsibility when he was old enough, and he impressed his parents with how diligent he was in taking care of her. Without fail, he fed the cat twice a day, made sure she had clean water, and mopped up the sooty tracks leading from the litter pan. Care including trimming the cat's claws, as Langenscheidt's parents didn't want her playing too rough with the rabbits, so it was left to Langenscheidt to keep them under control. He would set the cat upright on his lap, as he was the only one that she would allow to do so, and easily cut her claws down to a manageable size. Five claws on each front paw, plus her dewclaw, and four on each back paw. He did it so often that it became routine. He didn't have to think too hard about it.
There were also the barn cats that kept the mice and rats in check, and the gray kitten that came after the black and white one passed away from old age. Langenscheidt followed the same routine with the new kitten, though he was much more energetic and had a tendency to jump on things he wasn't supposed to. Langenscheidt took advantage of this kitten's love of jumping and trained him to jump on his shoulder and take a ride around the house and garden.
Opening his eyes, Langenscheidt looked at Kielholz. "Yes, I do remember. Cats have five claws on their front paws." He squeezed his fists nervously. "I still fear… it will slip when Aschenbrener asks me."
"I think you will be alright, Karl." Kielholz smiled at him, and took his hand. "You are more than capable of getting through this."
"You really think so?"
"I know so."
Part of Langenscheidt was glad that Kielholz was so confident, but it made him much more terrified of failing, as it meant letting Kielholz down.
Aschenbrener made Klink close the recreation hall for his tests with Langenscheidt. Before they started, Langenscheidt expected Colonel Hogan to come out and protest against closing the recreation hall, but when Hogan didn't show, he began wondering if Westworth was already laying out his plan.
Well, you are a little late with whatever the hell you are doing, Langenscheidt thought. Aschenbrener has already begun.
"Are you ready, Corporal?" Aschenbrener asked when Langenscheidt entered the building.
"Yes, sir," Langenscheidt replied.
"Alright. Let us begin with something simple." Aschenbrener took a deck of cards from a shelf of other games at the back of the hall. He sat at a table and began laying out and organizing the cards. Once he was satisfied, he had Langenscheidt come over to the table. "Now, I want you to study and memorize where each card and its exact match are. When I say 'exact,' I mean it. Match its number and suit. No exceptions. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. How long do I have to study?"
"Two minutes."
Langenscheidt bit his tongue, and nodded. That is not going to be enough time. My memory could go at any second.
He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, and heard someone whisper, "I typically don't endorse cheating, but I will step in if you need help."
Langenscheidt released his breath. Thank you, Westworth.
Two minutes passed. Aschenbrener directed Langenscheidt to turn around as he flipped the cards over. "Alright, you can turn back around," he said.
Langenscheidt did as he was told. He noticed Aschenbrener looking around, a confused expression on his face. "Are you alright, sir?"
"Is there… someone else in the room with us?" Aschenbrener asked.
"No," Langenscheidt said.
"Strange. You do not… feel as though there is someone with us?"
"No."
Aschenbrener sighed. "Perhaps I got up a little too early today."
"Oh, yes, waking up at four in the bloody morning is a terrible habit," Westworth said. "He definitely does not get a full eight hours of sleep."
I can imagine, Langenscheidt thought.
"You have fifteen minutes to find and match all of the cards," Aschenbrener said.
"Yes, sir." Langenscheidt looked at the cards, then picked one up. Six of spades… there was another one down in the bottom row, the second to last card, right? He picked up the card he was eyeing, and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing it was indeed the other six of spades.
Aschenbrener watched with interest as Langenscheidt successfully matched each of the cards. He continued looking around, though, still behaving as though there was someone else in the room that he couldn't see. Langenscheidt felt a tad guilty about having lied to him, but he didn't want to get himself or Westworth in trouble.
Once all the cards were matched, Langenscheidt looked up at Aschenbrener. "Finished, sir."
"You did very well, with seven minutes to spare. You can do better, though. I want you training on this until you can match every card in less than a minute." Aschenbrener grinned a little.
Langenscheidt wasn't sure what to say. Such a feat was impossible for him. The stress alone was likely to set off an episode of sudden forgetfulness.
"We would certainly have to cheat there," Westworth said.
Absolutely, Langenscheidt agreed.
"You did do well here, my friend. You didn't need me once."
I got lucky.
"Maybe so, but you should still be proud of yourself. After doubting yourself so much, you still accomplished this little task without issue." Westworth squeezed Langenscheidt's shoulders. "Kielholz and I believe in you. Try not to fret. You can get through this."
"Oh, that reminds me, Corporal—" Aschenbrener stopped playing with his scarf and looked at Langenscheidt, "how many claws are on a cat's front paws?"
"Five on each paw, sir," Langenscheidt replied.
"Well done." Aschenbrener began putting the cards away. "You did much better than I was initially expecting."
Langenscheidt didn't respond.
"Your medical file stated that you tend to have periodic and unpredictable lapses in your memory, which has resulted in delayed delivery of information to your superiors and failure or delayal to exercise orders. Colonel Klink even attested to this when we discussed it."
"I have gotten better, sir," Langenscheidt said. "Talk to some of the medics here, they can vouch for me."
"Corporal, I do not particularly care. What I want to know is how serious this is."
"Are you even a doctor, sir?"
"No." Aschenbrener glared at him. "I am, however, in charge of making sure that men like you are still fit for doing their duties. Even being a guard here at Stalag 13 is vital, as you are responsible for preventing the prisoners from getting back in the war and killing more of our own. If you forget to lock the door at night, or forget to check for anything suspicious in their barracks, it will fall back on you. It will be your fault that they escaped."
"I… I understand, sir."
"You understand you could be a weak link to the rest of your comrades?"
Langenscheidt nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. I would hate to have to remove you from service. It requires a great deal of paperwork, and then there is finding someone to take your place."
"I… will not let you down, sir."
"I hope so. You have shown some promise so far. Keep it up."
Langenscheidt's blood was running cold. "What… What is my next test, sir?"
"I will be presenting you with a series of photographs. You will tell me what the differences are. It is a test for your ability to see little details. See, the prisoners might not want you to see 'little details,' but you—"
The lamps in the recreation hall flickered three times before going out completely.
"Damn it." Aschenbrener gave an irritable sigh. "How did all of the lamps go out at once? Does Klink not have these things checked regularly?"
"Only when Colonel Hogan brings it up with him, sir," Langenscheidt said, looking up at the lamps. What are you doing, Westworth?
"I… suddenly had a very bad feeling about what is going to transpire over the next few days. I need to step away and think," Westworth replied. "I will return soon. Aschenbrener will be occupied while he's yelling at Klink."
Langenscheidt stood to follow Aschenbrener out of the recreation hall. He watched the inspector barge into Klink's quarters, then began walking toward the guard barracks, confused by Westworth's behavior. What exactly is he worried about? He kept walking to the guard barracks, but curiosity got the better of him. Casually, he turned and started heading toward the area where Barracks One used to be. He paused when he passed by Barracks Two, hearing Westworth's voice through cracks in the window.
"…This is wrong. I can't collaborate with you if that's your only reason for helping Langenscheidt," Westworth was saying.
Hogan responded. "That isn't our only reason for helping Langenscheidt. We care about him as much as you do, but you do know why it's important he stays, just like Klink and Schultz—"
"Klink is gullible and Schultz is somewhat sympathetic to you, as long as it keeps him out of trouble. Langenscheidt was hurt, and you are taking advantage of his memory problems."
"Don't you think that would at least be a convenient excuse if the Gestapo were to find out everything and they took him in for questioning?"
"It feels wrong, Colonel."
"I hate to say it, Colonel, but I'm on Westworth's side with this," Sergeant Carter said. "Sure, Langenscheidt could use his memory as an excuse with the Gestapo, but you have manipulated him into thinking he's having an episode before. Do you remember when we had Tiger here last autumn? He saw her through the window, came in to see what was going on, and then you convinced him that he 'didn't remember seeing her,' that she may have been a hallucination?"
"I do remember that. I didn't exactly want him telling Klink," Hogan replied.
"Colonel, you need to show Langenscheidt some trust," Westworth said. "He is vastly different to Klink and Schultz."
"Westworth, what's going to happen if his memory slips again and he says something about what we're doing to someone who shouldn't know?"
"I doubt that would happen."
"How do you know?"
"Because I can help him. I've already been helping him with the tests Aschenbrener is giving him. I can't fix his memory, but I can remind him when he forgets."
Corporal Newkirk spoke up. "I thought you were supposed to be protecting him from eldritch horrors, not reminding him when he's forgotten what time it is."
"I can do both. I want to do both."
"Westworth, I can't afford to be taking chances with my men," Hogan said. "I'm certainly not blaming Langenscheidt for his condition, but it makes him a bit too risky to be trusted."
"I certainly wouldn't trust him with everything, but I am still strongly opposed to using his memory like a tool for your own goals."
"It would be horrible for me to use his memory like a tool for my personal goals—"
"Sir, that's why Tiger was here. You wanted to see her again," Carter said.
Silence fell over the barracks.
"She should have just gone home after we completed that assignment with her," Carter continued.
"She's still a high-profile member of the—"
"Even more of a reason why she shouldn't have stuck around," Westworth said.
"Westworth, if you don't want our help getting Aschenbrener to leave, then we won't help you," Hogan said, his voice low. "Just because you're dead doesn't give you an excuse to dismiss just how important our work is here."
"Not once have I dismissed how important your work is, Colonel. I understand how important it is, because I don't want the SS finding out about me and wondering what power they could attempt to harness from me. I just don't want Langenscheidt feeling like he's being used, and I definitely don't want anyone taking advantage of his memory."
"Then don't tell him. He doesn't have to know."
It was far too late for that. Langenscheidt kept walking by the barracks, feeling sick as he tried to process what he just learned.
