No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, (except for the 7 new characters introduced in this story) and no infringement is intended.

Weaving a Web to Freedom,

The Truth is What We Make It

Chapter 5

By MLB 13

"Wilson! We have to talk to you quick." The Medic looked up from the cards he was playing and froze. "Just listen. The Kommandant is on his way to order you to give medical attention to Colonel Hogan." Kinch paused to take a breath.

"Medical attention?" Wilson exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "What..."

Ignoring Wilson, Kinch continued. "You are our only chance to get a message to the Colonel. Tell him he received a letter from home and that I am holding it for him, but he still has plenty of time to get his answer in the next mailing. You must say those exact words. Have you got that?"

Before Wilson could respond, LeBeau shouted from the door, "Klink is here!" The men scattered, finding various places to remain out of sight, just as Kommandant Klink burst through the door.

Colonel Klink's eyes quickly landed on Wilson. "Sergeant Wilson, I need for you to get your medical supplies and go with Sergeant Shultz to the cooler to tend to Colonel Hogan. He has a wide gash on the back of his head that needs cleaned and dressed.

I suspect he has a slight concussion as well. Do what you can for him. Report back to me when you are finished. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" Wilson responded, not having to feign surprise. "I will need to go by the infirmary to get what I need."

"Go! I will have Sergeant Shultz meet you there. Have you seen Sergeant Kinchloe?"

Wilson paused at the door with a glint in his eyes. "Uh yes, sir. He was on his way back to the barrack with Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau."

Wilson ran out with Klink right behind him.

"Herr Kommandant, where are you going?"

"I have to talk to Sergeant Kinchloe. You go meet Wilson at the cooler and give him any assistance he needs." Stopping suddenly, Klink turned to face Shultz. "Remember, Schultz, Hogan is the prisoner. Don't let him pull rank."

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"Come on, Newkirk, get it open." Carter yelled, while staring at the entrance into the tunnels.

"Andrew, I'm going as fast as I can. Get over here and help me!" Newkirk crouched on the floor feeling for the release that would allow the sink to slide and reveal the tunnel entrance. Finally it slid back. Wasting no time, they dropped one by one into the tunnel closing the entrance behind them.

"What could Wilson have been thinking? He knew we would have trouble making it back to the barracks before Klink," LeBeau complained.

"I know exactly what he was thinking." Kinch broke into a run, his last sentence barely audible, "He wanted some privacy while he checked out the Colonel." _

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The guard approached Hogan's cell and thrust his arm through the bars. In his hand hung the coveted "A2 jacket".

As Hogan went to retrieve it, the guard snatched it away with a vicious laugh.

"Ok, Fritz, I can wait. I'd love to see you disobey a direct order. It would be worth my being cold a little longer." Hogan went back to the bunk and sat down.

Seeing that his prisoner wasn't going to play, the guard again thrust his arm through the bars but this time dropped the jacket.

"Smart decision." Hogan jibbed as he slipped it on. "Danke."

Hogan walked back toward the bunk, but suddenly stopped when he heard someone coming. Holding his breath, he waited. Was it friend or foe.

Shortly, Schultz came into view followed by Wilson.

Hogan inhaled and with a trembling hand, slowly zipped his jacket. He could feel his body surrendering to exhaustion. Get a grip." he muttered to himself.

"Open the cell and turn on the light," Schultz ordered. Light from a single bulb flickered on.

"Colonel Hogan, I have brought Sergeant Wilson to tend to you."

"Hi Wilson. Good to see a friendly face," Hogan answered, as he squinted against the sudden illumination.

"Be quick." The guard ordered and locked the cell door behind them.

Wilson nodded at his commanding officer and then, noticing the black and blue mark on Hogan's jaw, glanced back at the guards to size up the force of the blow. "I see you've been your usual gregarious self, Sir."

Hogan shrugged, and was surprised at how much energy that took.

"I told him you said you tripped," Schultz whispered.

Wilson lightly placed his hand on the Colonel's jaw as if to examine it. Turning Hogan toward the light he began. "Good! Pupils are reactive. That's one assessment you won't fight me over."

Hogan' countered, "Get any closer, Sergeant, and I'll have to ask you to dance."

"No disrespect, Colonel, but…" referring back to Hogan's jaw, "I don't think your last dance went well. You're going to sit this one out."

The muscles in Hogan's jaw hardened as he deciphered Wilson's message. The medic had just drawn the line. For the moment, Hogan was to take orders, not give them.

Hogan straightened, clearly prepared to retaliate and then just as suddenly relaxed his stance and nodded.

Seeing and taking advantage of his patient's good sense, Wilson continue his examination. Placing a sitting stool under the light, he ordered. "Sit down Colonel I want to have a look at that wound on the back of your head?"

Wilson motioned toward the corner of the room, "Schultz, you can pour the pitcher of water we brought with us, into that basin and bring it over here." Turning back to Hogan, he ordered, "Take your jacket off, sir, and..."

Hogan was taking his time. The room was spinning a little and he was waiting for it to stop.

Wilson repeated himself, as he motioned toward the stool. "Sit down...Please."

Did he just say to take my jacket off," Hogan sighed, "I just put my jacket on."

"Sir?" Wilson questioned."

"Never mind. How..." Stopping briefly in the process of removing his jacket, Hogan leaned slightly toward his injured side before continuing. "...are things in camp?"

Wilson caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. "Something wrong, Colonel?"

"Naw, I'm just a little stiff from lying on that cot." Hogan lied.

Relying on past experience, Wilson grimaced. "Uh huh, take off your shirt Colonel. Let's have a look."

"Wilson it may have escaped you, it's freezing in here… and it's nothing!"

Sighing, Wilson reached over and in one motion grabbed either side of Hogan's shirt and pulled it up.

"What are…? Hogan's protest was too late, his bruises were exposed.

Schultz chuckled at Wilson's victory, but quickly turned it into a choked cough, as Hogan's eyes flashed in his direction.

"Get your arm out of the way," Wilson demanded and began probing the bruised area and ribs beneath with his fingers.

Hogan sucked in a quick breath as the medic's finger found the point of impact.

"Hmm, I don't feel any broken ribs, but that doesn't rule out hairline fractures. You know, if you had mentioned this to the Kommandant, I would have brought some bandages and we could have wrapped your ribs and it would have helped to…"

Wilson glanced up and saw that Hogan had stopped listening. He knew his next question would get his attention. "I don't suppose you'd tell me if you were peeing blood?"

Hogan stared into Wilson's face in stony silence.

"I didn't think so."

Letting the shirt drop back down, Wilson admonished, "The only time I'll know that there's a problem is when you fall over." Nodding his head toward the still vacant seat , he ordered, "Sit!"

Hogan's ears were ringing and his vision blurring, perspiration broke out on his forehead. Sitting, he turned his back on Wilson and began removing his jacket.

Unlike the medic, Schultz was facing Hogan and saw him grimace. He placed himself within arms reach and was ready to assure Hogan's cooperation, just as the Kommandant had ordered.

"To answer your question, sir, everything is fine in camp. But Kinch wanted me to let you know that..." Wilson stopped short as Hogan reached for the back of his head and pulled away from the medics busy hands.

"Sorry, sir. Your blood has dried and matted your hair. It's going to take a little effort to get it out, so I can see what I'm dealing with.

Hogan grunted and waved his hand dismissively. "You were saying, Sergeant?"

"I was saying, Kinch wanted me to tell you not to worry about the letter you wanted sent home, because you have plenty of time to get it out in the next mailing."

That meant Kinch had not told London what was happening. There were no evacuation plans in play yet.

Hogan immediately understood and turned to look at Wilson. "Tell Kinch not to hold it too long. I want it out in time. And if it looks like I'm not going to have time to mail it myself, I trust he will mail it for me. Tell him," Hogan paused, his eyes' intent, "I know he can handle this."

One of Hogan's guards stepped closer and growled, "You talk too much. Get on with it."

Hogan complied with the guards demand for the moment and sat quietly as he thought about how he and Kinch had talked, extensively in the past, about what their course of action would be if their operation were ever found out. Now closing his eyes, Hogan exhaled slowly and silently pleaded, "Come on Kinch, no hesitation here. I don't know how long I'll be able to hold out against Hochstetter's question and answer sessions."

"Are you all right, Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked.

Hogan opened his eyes. "Yeah, just tired, Schultz."

Wilson finally reached the gash in Hogan's head.

"OUCH! You know, I think my head felt better before you came to fix it!"

"And I think you could use a couple of stitches." Wilson was already preparing the needle.

"I don't think…" Hogan began, as he started to stand up. Schultz put his hands on Hogan's shoulders and firmly pushed him back down, "Sit, let your medic finish his job, Colonel Hogan."

Hogan, making one more failed attempt to stand, muttered, "You have one minute!"

Wilson shook his head at the imposed deadline and announced, "This is gonna pinch a little." The needle penetrated and exited, drawing the gaping wound together. "Colonel, did this blow knock you out?

"Not for very long. …...mm….." Hogan squeezed his eyes shut as the medic continued to stitch. "Are you done yet?"

"I'll take that as a yes. Colonel Klink is right, you probably have a slight concussion. And...I'll let you know when I'm done; so you can keep your minute!"

Schultz felt Hogan's shoulders press against his hands. "No, sit!"

Have you been dizzy and nauseated," Wilson continued?

Not wanting to admit to anything, Hogan growled, "You mean the Kommandant didn't tell you about that, too? Like I told him, it doesn't mean I've got a concussion, Wilson."

"I'll take that as another yes. I don't think it's anything to worry about, but you should keep warm and try to get some rest."

"I'll put that on my list of things to do, right after, 'avoid any unnecessary trips to Berlin'!" Hogan realized he had said too much. He had always managed to keep hope alive and he didn't want his men to think he was loosing his grip on it now. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so sarcastic."

"No, problem, sir."

Wilson seldom got a glimpse into Hogan's psyche. The man had every right to be worried. From what he could see here, a trip to Berlin was a definite possibility.

"Okay, Colonel, I'm done."

Schultz removed his hand from Hogan's shoulder. "That wasn't so bad was it, Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan glared up at Schultz and straightened his shoulders.

"You can put your jacket back on. And you better lay down before you fall down. That's an order from your medic. Got it?" Sergeant Wilson admonished.

"Yeah, Private." It was a glib threat meant to let Wilson know who was back in command…and feeling every ounce of that responsibility.

Hogan rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion was begging him to follow the medics orders.

Soon the whine of metal on metal echoed through the cooler as the cell door was opened.

The guards had their orders, no visitors. They allowed this visit only because they hesitated to disobey an Oberst without direct orders from Major Hochstetter.

Wilson finished gathering up his supplies and, with Sergeant Schultz following, headed for the open cell door. "Please try to get some rest, sir. And be assured, I will give your message to Kinch."

Hogan stood up, and tucked in his shirt. "Thanks, Sergeant. Hey, what time is it?"

Wilson looked at his watch, "Almost 15:30."

Hogan nodded, "See you later." And Schultz..."

Schultz turned toward Hogan. "...I owe you one. The next time you need my help, I'll remember how you helped me out today." Hogan had that "pay backs are hell" look on his face, and then the familiar grin appeared.

Preferring to believe the grin over the words. Schultz answered, "Jolly joker."

As Wilson and Schultz disappeared around the corner, Bruno, the nickname Hogan gave to the guard that clubbed him earlier, stepped into the cell, forced Hogan's arms up, and frisked him again.

~ See, Bruno you can do a frisk facing me. Of course having your partner's gun trained on me makes it easier for you. ~

Hogan flinched as Bruno pounded on the bruised ribs, which was a source of amusement for the guard. Then, thankfully, both guards left him.

The light went out and darkness moved in.

Hogan found himself drawn to the bunk. As much as he hated to admit it, Wilson was right. He needed to lie down.

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Carter was the first to reach the ladder that connected to the trap door into barrack two. Tripping the switch he climbed as fast as he could with Newkirk shoving him along. LeBeau was directly behind Newkirk and Kinch brought up the rear. Kinch quickly hammered the side of the bunk as he cleared the side railing; sending the mattress back down and the bed slats back up both joining to form the bed of the bunk.

"Here he comes" Carter called, from the barely cracked barrack door. They scattered to various positions around the barrack.

The door flew open and Klink rushed in. Looking around at the flushed faces he demanded, "Is everything under control here?"

"Everything's just peachy," Newkirk grumbled.

LeBeau, sitting opposite Newkirk at the table in the middle of the barrack asked, "What can we do for you, Kommandant?"

Klink looked over at Kinch who was standing at the stove pouring a cup of day old coffee. "I came to talk to Sergeant Kinchloe."

Kinch shrugged. "Sure Kommandant, we can step into Colonel Hogan's quarters."

Klink marched past Kinch and headed straight for Hogan's room. Kinch fell in behind the Kommandant and closed the door.

"Sergeant I came to talk to you about Hogan's absence. I have observed that when Hogan is not present, you are the spokesman for the prisoners. I would like you to assume that duty now."

Kinch was afraid of what Klink was implying. He felt his stomach tighten. "Sir is there something I don't know. The Colonel is coming back isn't he?"

The Kommandant looked around Hogan's room.

"I don't know. But if he doesn't, someone has to step in and be in charge of the prisoners. And from what I have seen you would be the one. I don't want anyone to get hurt, but I will use what force is necessary to control the prisoners if they try to riot."

Klink could see the Sergeant was having trouble with this news.

"Kommandant, it's…shouldn't we…?" Kinch was not expecting this. "Kommandant, if Colonel Hogan is taken away and we are left in camp without him I will speak for the prisoners."

What Klink was asking was irrelevant. If they take Colonel Hogan away, there won't be any prisoners left to would follow the Colonels orders and evacuate the camp. He had refused to consider that. But now he was wondering if his plan had time to work. No, it would work or he would die trying.

"Thank-you Sergeant."

Kinch nodded and asked, "How is he doing?"

"Not as well as he would like us to think." With that said, Klink quickly exited.

Kinch's comrades flowed into the room as Klink left it.

Newkirk leaned against Hogan's locker, "Well that was a sobering conversation."

"I think Colonel Klink is preparing to turn the Colonel over to that madman!" LeBeau complained.

"Let's go check on the Colonel." Carter started for the door.

"No!" Kinch commanded. "Wilson is right. Colonel Hogan deserves some privacy. If he can't get it from his guards, he can get it from us. Wilson will tell us what we need to know when he's done."

Carter shook his head in agreement. "I guess I wouldn't like an audience if it were me."

"Come on," Kinch urged, "Let's go have a cup of coffee. It's time we discuss the possibilities and our plan of action."

"I'll make a fresh pot," LeBeau offered.

"Make it strong, Louis," Newkirk requested. "I don't plan to sleep till this thing is over."

Carter absentmindedly strummed his fingers on the table. "How long do you think it will be before we hear something from the underground, Kinch?"

"Well, Andrew, considering what LeBeau heard, I'd say by tonight."

Everyone stopped and looked at Kinch. Kinch learned from Hogan to not show doubt and kept his "poker face" showing. His stomach, on the other hand, was burning from the stress.

~ If this is the "Glory" of being in command, Colonel, you can have it! ~

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Wilson was escorted to Kommandant Klink's office. "Wait here, while I announce you."Schultz knocked and lumbered into Klink's office.

Wilson nodded at Helga, Klink's secretary. "How's Colonel Hogan?" she asked.

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances." Before he could say more the door opened again. "Come in, the Kommandant will see you now." Schultz stepped back from the door.

Wilson reluctantly stood in front of Klink's desk. "You may report Sergeant, What did you find?"

Hesitating and wondering what the Kommandant was going to do with the information, he considered how much he should tell. "I don't know if Colonel Hogan would want his condition discussed. He likes his privacy."

"Sergeant, I am not going to use this information against him. I must make a report to the Red Cross and I would like to be able to tell them his condition, when I state the charges against him." Klink's face began to redden. He did not like to have his authority questioned. "Now, report!"

Deciding a report to the Red Cross may be a good thing, Wilson began, "His physical condition is much as you surmised. He is suffering from a bruised jaw, contusions to his right side with possible cracked ribs, nausea, a concussion, and headache due to the blow to the back of his head. The injury to his head required 4 stitches to close the gash. His body is in shock, which is not unusual for what he's been through. I have no information to diagnose internal injury. The Colonel was not answering questions. I advised rest."

"What do you mean he wasn't answering questions," Klink asked?

Exasperated, it was Wilson's turn to raise his voice. "I mean he wasn't answering my questions. I made assumptions on his physical condition based on his responses, but there were no direct answers."

The Kommandant sat back in his chair and eyed Wilson. "You emphasized physical condition is there more?" Klink demanded.

"As you are well aware, he is under considerable mental stress as well." Klink nodded his head thoughtfully.

"Anything else?" Klink prodded.

"Isn't that enough," Wilson questioned? "May I go now?"

Klink leaned forward to begin writing. "Yes, Sergeant, you're dismissed. I'll want you to read my report on his medical condition before I turn it over to the Red Cross. I'll send a translation to you when I complete it."

Wilson nodded and leaving the Kommandant's office, headed straight for Barrack two.

Schultz waited for Wilson to leave before commenting, "Kommandant, I don't remember Colonel Hogan's jaw being bruised when I left him earlier this morning."

"It was bruised when I saw him this afternoon. He must have gotten himself into some trouble sometime between your visit and mine. Colonel Hogan's, insolence will be the death of him...and perhaps me," Klink ended sarcastically.

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The men of barrack two were putting the coffeepot away when Wilson arrived. "Is it safe to come in? I assume you made it back before Klink got here." Wilson expected to be chastised for the spot he put them in.

"Not by much! Newkirk couldn't get the sink to open." Carter admitted, while sitting at the table holding a cup of lukewarm coffee.

"We heard your report to Klink, is there more that you didn't say," LeBeau asked?

Carter joined in "Yeah, we stayed away from the cooler, while you were there."

"You mean Kinch kept you from going to the cooler." Newkirk backhanded him on the arm.

Wilson ignored the banter and walked over to Kinch. "He's holding it together. He told me to tell you not to hold that letter too long. He said he wanted it out in the next mail and if it looked like he wasn't going to get a chance to answer it himself, he knew he could trust you to answer it for him. He said he knows you can handle it."

Kinch dropped his head and then raising it asked, "Is that all he said?"

"That's all he said; we were being watched by the guards. But he intentionally held my gaze and I could tell there was more to this message than the talk of mail. I can only surmise what that is, but you have his blessings. I promise you Kinch, you should feel no guilt if you have to follow through with whatever his orders are."

Kinch gritted his teeth and nodded.

"Listen, Wilson, let us know when Klink sends the Red Cross report to you. We need to intercept it. If it makes it out to the Red Cross London will know what's going on here. We can't afford to be under the microscope. London won't risk it, even if it is just a suspicion. All information must go to London via our radio. We need time for our plan to work."

Newkirk, Carter, when Wilson gives us the word, I want you two to intercept the report to the Red Cross. Understand?"

"Sure, Kinch" Carter said. "You can count on us."

"You 'aven't got a thing to worry about." Newkirk said, brushing his nails on his shirt and then added. "Thanks Wilson. We're not beat yet; we've got one more hand to play!

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At a bombed out factory east of Luft Stalag 3, eight POW's were getting the last of their instructions from the Underground. Luft Stalag 3 was where the Luftwaffe sent prisoners whose escape records had become an inconvenience but not yet a "problem". Most of these men escaped just for the fun of infuriating their captors even if they knew they had no chance of succeeding. They called it harassing the enemy! Stalag 3 made escape a real challenge. Unlike Stalag 13, their escape-committee sanctioned escape attempts. The underground had made the acquaintance of Major Craft, the brains of the escape committee, on one of those rare occasions when he actually made an escape. He never planned to succeed but he had to appear to be escaping occasionally to avoid suspicion of being compliant and running the risk of being shipped out of Stalag 3.

Major Craft was almost as cunning as Colonel Hogan, but not as encompassing in that his primary activity was harassing the enemy with escapes. Not all attempts were coordinated with the underground. Many times they were the result of opportunity and were not expected to be successful. Unlike Stalag 13, Major Craft alone was the only one who had a complete understanding of their underground contacts. Messages came into the camp through the Kommandant's office and were passed along by...well that's a whole story in itself. Suffice it to say that not all Germans were Nazis. And as I said, the Major was the only one who knew how the operation worked. He felt it was safer this way.

Plus, just as the Major did not share his knowledge with his men, the Underground did not share their knowledge of Stalag 13 with the Major. But occasionally an escaped prisoner would be routed through Stalag 13. So when the Underground contacted him and asked for a bogus escape, the escape committee embraced it. And most of their escapes ended in capture anyway, so the opportunity for their capture to be for a reason was good enough!