Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  This part of the story contains a reference to episode # 136, "The Softer They Fall" written by Laurence Marks.

Beyond the End – Part 6

By Diane Maher

            When Klink opened his eyes, he found himself in his own room, his own bed.  Looking around, he saw that he was alone.  Slowly, he crawled from his bed and tried to stand.  His head spun and when he touched the back of his head, he winced as he felt the bandage and the lump there.  He walked slowly over to the window.

            When Klink opened the window and looked out, he could hardly believe his eyes.  Outside the gates were several tanks, each with a union jack emblazoned on the side facing the camp.  He blinked once, rubbed his eyes and they were still there.  Closing the window, he went to the door, tried to open it and found it locked.

            Klink pounded on the door with his fist and called out, "Guard?"

            "What d'ya want, ya bleedin' Kraut?" the guard on the other side of the door demanded in a gruff tone.

            "How dare you talk to me like that?" replied Klink sharply.

            "I'll talk to you any way I damn well please!" the guard said.

            Klink balled his fist in frustration and swung it at the door.  A minute later, he heard the key rattle in the lock.  He stepped away from the door and watched as it opened.

            The man who opened the door wasn't Hogan as he hoped it would be.  Instead, a grizzled veteran strode into the room.

            Mystified, Klink asked, "Who are you?"

            "I'm Major Turnbull of the British army.  Come with me," the man ordered.

            Klink put on his cap and followed the major outside, across the compound, and up the steps of the administration building.  He wondered why they were going there.

            As they entered the office, Klink noticed several of the Allied men going through the filing cabinets.

            Turnbull indicated the office.  "Go inside."

            Klink went inside and found several men going through his files and even drinking his Schnapps.  One of them picked up the spiked helmet on the desk, put it on his head and said mockingly, "Sieg Heil!"

            Angry, Klink took two steps and snatched his prized helmet from the man.  He saw that his humidor was still apparently locked.

            "Hey! Give that back!" the man demanded.

            "No.  It's mine and I won't allow an uncivilized lout like you to have it!" Klink shouted back.

            Turnbull said in a mock placating tone, "Let the bloody Kraut have 'is 'at.  You can take it from him later."

            Hogan strode into the office and Turnbull saluted.  "Dismissed," Hogan said.  He returned the salute and ordered, "Leave me alone with the prisoner."

            After the men left, Klink stared at Hogan who now sat in the chair behind his desk.  The reality hit him then and he knew that he was truly a prisoner.  Klink asked, "You wanted to see me, Colonel Hogan?"

            Hogan nodded and began, "Colonel, as you have noticed, you are under house arrest."  Klink nodded and Hogan continued, "The Allies are sending planes to a nearby airfield to take the Allied prisoners from here back to England.  Arrangements have been made to take the Germans here to a POW camp in France."

            Klink blinked and stumbled backwards into a chair.  "When will we be leaving?" he asked when he recovered his senses.

            Hogan stood, went to the window and looked out.  He said, "I'd say we're all leaving this place in the next hour or so at the latest."

            "How long have I been unconscious?" asked Klink.

            "About three hours.  You hit your head on the car's fender as you fell," Hogan replied.  "The doctor said you had a concussion, bandaged your wound from when you hit the fender and said to allow you to rest comfortably, so I had a couple of prisoners take you to your room on a stretcher."

            Klink stood, and joined Hogan at the window.  Klink watched as the now ex-prisoners climbed aboard the trucks with looks of glee that they were free and going home.  The Englishman Newkirk, the little cockroach, LeBeau.  Oh how I'm going to miss those wonderful meals he cooked! thought Klink wistfully.  Carter joined Newkirk and they helped the black American, Sergeant Kinchloe up on the truck, followed by LeBeau.

            Klink remembered his decision to transfer Kinchloe from Stalag 13.  General Burkhalter had been furious at Battling Bruno's loss to the black American in the boxing match they'd set up at Stalag 13 despite the fact that Bruno had been declared the winner.  Burkhalter had been so furious that he nearly ordered Klink sent to the Russian front.  To save his own neck, Klink signed Kinch's transfer orders.

            The next time that Klink had asked LeBeau to cook for one of his guests, the Frenchman agreed, but as a result of the dinner, they all had a bad case of indigestion.  Klink was so mad at LeBeau that he gave him thirty days in the cooler.  Before LeBeau was taken away to the cooler, Klink asked him about the meal.  LeBeau said that he was protesting Kinch's transfer to Stalag 7.  As long as Kinch was gone, LeBeau informed him that the Bosche would continue to have indigestion from any meals that he fixed until his friend was back in Stalag 13.

            Klink had second thoughts after that and transferred Sergeant Kinchloe back to Stalag 13 from Stalag 7 just outside of Heidelberg.  Klink couldn't stomach any more indigestion.  His chances of becoming general were already slim; LeBeau's cooking was his only hope.  Looking back at the incident with Metzger, he was glad that Kinchloe was there.  If not for him, Klink realized that he might not have had the courage to help Hogan.

            Klink saw the trucks that were arriving and being loaded with more of the ex-POWs and their meager belongings.  Belongings...Klink thought and remembered his own.  Turning away from the window, he went back to his desk and sat behind it again.

            When Hogan turned away from the window, he saw Klink putting his pictures in a pile.  Someone knocked on the office door.  Turnbull entered a moment later and gave Hogan a smart salute.

            "Colonel?" asked Turnbull.

            "Yeah?" replied Hogan.

            "The last of the trucks for the prisoners to be taken to the airfield are almost ready to leave.  The planes are waiting, sir," Turnbull said.  "Plus, the trucks that have returned empty are being loaded with the German prisoners."

            "Very good, Major.  Start getting the remaining ex-POWs to the planes," Hogan ordered.  "I'll ride on the last truck with my crew.  See to it that the Germans are loaded on the trucks and taken to the POW camp in France.  You and your men are responsible for getting them there safely."

            The major left to carry out Hogan's orders.  When the door closed, Klink slowly stood and said, "Well, it seems as though we'll be parting ways soon.  I...I'd like you to have these Hogan."  He handed Hogan his spiked helmet and his humidor and its key.

            Hogan took the items and his voice was quiet when he said, "Kommandant, I...uh, I don't know what to say."

            "I'd rather you have them than these...ruffians," Klink said.

            "Thank you.  I would suggest that you gather a few things, some clothes and prepare for your trip to France," Hogan said.

            Klink nodded.  He picked up the pile of pictures from his desk and was about to go through the door that led back to his quarters when he turned back to face Hogan and asked, "How is Sergeant Kinchloe?"

            "He's doing fine.  Schultz called your doctor and he came here and treated you and Kinch.  The doctor said that Kinch would limp for a while, but he would recover completely."

            Klink nodded, a wan smile on his face.  "I'm glad to hear it."

            Klink then went through the door leading to his quarters.  The hallway seemed colder than usual.  He decided to take his coat with him.  He went inside his room, pulled out a small case and began packing some of his clothes.

            When the bag was almost full, Klink looked at the pictures and knew there was no way to fit them inside the case unless he removed them from their frames.  He carefully removed them from the frames and put his military pictures in the bag and was going to put his family's pictures in his coat pocket.  A painful thought struck him then as he realized that he had condemned his own men to spend more time away from their families.  Looking at the picture of his father, Klink thought, What will happen to us now? What is in store for me?

            Someone knocked on the door, interrupting his thoughts.  "Come!" Klink called.

            The door opened and one of Turnbull's men escorted him to the compound.  All of the Germans were loaded in the trucks and ready to go, except for him.  All the ex-prisoners were gone, except for one last truck, which Hogan stood next to.  Klink strode over and said, "Auf wiedersehen, Colonel Hogan."

            Hogan turned and said, "Auf wiedersehen, Herr Kommandant.  Thanks for saving me from Metzger last night."

            "You're welcome," Klink replied and then gave Hogan a salute.

            Hogan returned the salute and then climbed aboard with his crew.  The truck's motor started and soon it rumbled away out the front gate of Stalag 13.  Klink watched as Hogan's face became more and more indistinct with distance.

            "Herr Kommandant, it is time to go," Schultz said from the rear of the truck.

            "Danke," Klink replied.  He climbed aboard the truck and sat next to Schultz.  Their truck started and rumbled out the front gate of Stalag 13.

            Klink watched as the gates receded from view.  The last truck stopped, someone jumped out, closed the gates and it then pulled away from the now deserted POW camp.  In a way, he was sad, but the war was over for him and the men of his command and for that, he was relieved.

            "Herr Kommandant," Schultz began hesitantly.  "Where are we going?"

            "When I spoke to Hogan earlier, he said that we were being taken to a POW camp in France.  He didn't say where and I didn't think to ask him," Klink replied.  He realized that the war was only over for the ex-prisoners of Stalag 13.  His journey as a prisoner was only beginning.

            The men guarding them said nothing but kept their machine guns trained on them.

            It was early that evening when the truck finally slowed down.  Klink had fallen asleep on Schultz's shoulder.  When the truck jolted to a stop, Klink started awake.

            The guards jumped down and shouted, "Out of the truck! Move it, you bloody Krauts!"

            Klink shivered in the cool evening air as he stood to get down from the truck.  Schultz followed and stood next to him as the rest of the men of his command filed out of the trucks.

            They waited in formation for several minutes before an officer appeared.  The officer's physical appearance suggested that he was younger than Hogan.

            "Prisoners! I will see that you are treated according to the Geneva Convention.  I will speak with the most senior ranking member of your group.  Would that man step forward?" the officer ordered, his British accent carrying clearly through the compound.

            Klink took two steps forward.  He felt as though a target had been painted on both his back and his chest.  He thought, Is this what Hogan felt like upon his arrival at Stalag 13?

            The officer continued, "Very well.  These men will gather your names and take the rest of you to your barracks.  You," he addressed Klink, "come with me."

            Klink followed the officer into the building and into a small office.  The officer sat behind his desk and picked up a pen and a form of some sort.

            "I am Major Crenshaw, acting as the administrator of this POW camp.  Now, tell me about yourself."

            Klink was tense as he stood there throughout the major's introduction.  The major was a medium height man with light brown hair and Klink thought the man was about in his mid thirties.  Klink resented being ordered around by a major; but that this major was even younger than Hogan, and talking to him, a full Colonel, in such an arrogant tone, made it worse.  Whatever happened to military courtesy? However, he squared his shoulders, swallowed his pride and replied, "I am Colonel Wilhelm Klink."

            The major wrote his name and rank on a form of some sort.  Looking up, he said, "Go on."

            "I was the Kommandant of Luft Stalag 13," Klink said.

            "What happened to your prisoners?" demanded Crenshaw with an angry look.

            "N-n-nothing.  I assure you, they are all fine!" Klink replied fearfully.

            "I've heard horrific stories about German POW camps littered with the dead corpses of our Allied men! Assure me of nothing!" Crenshaw shouted.

            Klink couldn't believe his ears.  This man knew about the atrocities done by the other Kommandants.

            "It's a shame they didn't kill you outright," Crenshaw scowled.

            I didn't harm my prisoners! Klink wanted to shout.  He kept his mouth shut for the moment, afraid that this man would kill him.

            Klink's voice quivered slightly when he asked, "Is there anything else, sir?"

            Crenshaw replied, "Yes, you are the senior ranking POW in this camp.  As such, you are responsible for the conduct of the prisoners.  Understood? If so, then you're dismissed."

            Klink nodded and left the office.  Now he was going to find out first hand what it was like to be the senior POW.  He walked outside and one of the guards saw him and came over.

            "Come, we have a place for you," the guard said.

            Klink followed the guard into one of the closer barracks.

            The guard said, "Take any open bunk.  And your name is?"

            "Colonel Wilhelm Klink," Klink replied.

            Several of the men in the room looked up for a moment to see the newest member of their barracks before returning to what they had been doing.

            Klink found an empty bunk in the corner and was about to put his bag down on the lower bunk when one of the men said, "I suggest that you take the upper bunk.  That one is taken by that fat sergeant who just came through the door."

            Klink tossed his bag up on the top bunk, turned around and saw that Schultz was the one the man was talking about.  Schultz looked up and with a smile, asked, "Herr Kommandant? You are in this barracks?"

            Klink nodded and smiled wanly.  It was good to have his trusted aide in the barracks with him.  "It's good to see you, Schultz.  I was hoping to be put with someone I know."

            Schultz relaxed a bit and said, "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.  Most of the men from Stalag 13 are scattered throughout the camp.  Corporal Langenscheidt and Captain Gruber are together in another barracks on the other side of camp."

            Klink nodded and looked around at their surroundings.  He was touched that Schultz still addressed him with respect.  Then, Klink muttered, "I suppose I should get settled.  I hope you don't snore."

            "My wife says I do, but she never complained about it," Schultz replied with a chuckle.

            Klink rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  He began to wonder if he had truly done the right thing, surrendering to Hogan.  After a brief roll call, Klink returned to the barracks, climbed up into his bunk and fell asleep.

            Sometime during the night, Klink woke in a cold sweat after a nightmare.  He recalled the demented look on Metzger's face and then his eyes as he died.

            Klink looked around in the darkened barracks and shivered as he remembered where he was.  Below, he heard Schultz's contented snoring.  Klink pulled his coat's collar close about himself and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.  After seeing the major's reaction to him, Klink wondered what his fate would be at the Allies' hands.