No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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"This way, madame, mademoiselle," Le Beau guided the girl. When they had gotten near the hollowed-out stump, Le Beau had left his charges in the nearby brush, and went ahead on his own to make sure the Colonel's plans had been successful. When he was confident that they were not going to be detected, he brought them out and started handing them down the opening to Kinch, who was waiting below.
"Mein Gotte!" exclaimed Mrs Voelker, as she looked through the hole to the network beneath her.
Le Beau handed her bundle down, then Kinch took her hand to help her down the ladder. Then Le Beau himself walked Erich to the ladder, lifted him up gently, and carried him to Kinch. Kinch took the shaking boy in his arms, all the while murmuring reassurances, and nodding to the boy's family to also make him feel less frightened. Le Beau quickly followed them down, and closed the entrance.
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Hogan's eyes were drawn to the door to Barracks Two, where Le Beau was standing, clasping his hands together as though trying to keep warm. He was back; Voelker's wife and family must be in the tunnel.
Hogan signaled to his men to disperse, and he headed back to Le Beau. "All set?" he asked under his breath, his eyes still scouring the camp.
"Oui, Colonel," Le Beau replied. "They are all downstairs."
"How's the boy?"
"He was scared but he is better now. He is curious."
"He can be as curious as he likes as long as no one satisfies that urge. Make sure he stays on that end of the tunnel."
"Oui, Colonel." Louis paused. "It was nice of you to get the men to make toys for him, to help him be less afraid, Colonel."
Hogan, strangely uncomfortable with the insight, merely answered, "If he's playing, he's not wandering around finding things out he doesn't need to know."
"Of course, Colonel," Le Beau replied. But he could tell by Hogan's tone of voice that he had caught his commander out. He wouldn't push this private man any further.
"Has Kinch radioed the Underground?"
"He is doing it now."
Hogan nodded. "Good. All on schedule. The truck will be here at six o'clock. I'll get Voelker when this little charade is finished." He paused. "I'd better go greet our guests. Let me know if Klink suddenly appears."
Hogan left Le Beau standing outside and made his way deftly down the ladder to the tunnel below. All was oddly quiet at this time of day, and Hogan felt a sudden desire to spend some time down here in solitude, as he did occasionally when he needed to sort things out in his mind. There had been so much activity lately that he had not had a chance to just sit and reflect. It was simply plan and act: a soldier doing a soldier's job. When he had stopped he was usually too exhausted for contemplation. But he didn't give it much thought; he would have many years to reflect on this time. Years that he hoped would begin sooner rather than later, if he and his men were successful in their missions for the Allies.
Hogan came across Kinch at the radio. Not ready for conversation, Hogan and Kinch asked and answered Hogan's question without an exchange of looks: all was still going to plan. Hogan nodded and softly smiled his thanks. As he moved further down the tunnel, an indistinct sound reached his ears, growing clearer as he neared the holding area that had been fashioned for the Voelkers. It was the sound of a boy playing trucks, that revving sound that Hogan remembered from his own childhood, and from every child that he had ever encountered holding any toy with wheels. Normalcy. Normalcy in this insanity. Hogan stopped and listened for a moment, then moved into view.
A slight, weary-looking woman stood up from a chair as soon as Hogan turned the corner. She looked frightened, Hogan realized. She doesn't deserve this. "Mrs. Voelker, I presume?" Hogan said gently. "I'm Colonel Hogan."
The woman seemed to visibly relax at his name. She released her grip on a lovely young lady standing next to her. A younger picture of the woman, Hogan knew he would have been able to place them as mother and daughter instantly, even without the advantage of knowing who they had to be. "Katrina Voelker, Colonel," the woman said, regaining her composure and coming forward. "My daughter Anna," she continued. Hogan nodded at the girl, who seemed to look up at him from under her long locks. Shy, thought Hogan. "My son, Erich." She gestured toward the boy on the floor, who had only now stopped playing with the wooden truck the prisoners had supplied.
Hogan looked compassionately at the boy. "Hello, Erich," he said, wanting to make the boy feel at ease. "How's the truck?"
"Great," he said simply. But he continued to stare at Hogan, only occasionally stealing a look at his mother.
Clearing his throat, Hogan began, "I'm sorry the accommodation isn't quite five star. It was the best we could do under the circumstances. Family packages aren't our usual forte."
Mrs. Voelker smiled, a gesture that Hogan thought took years off her face. How worry and fear age a person, he thought. "We are not displeased, Colonel Hogan. We are grateful for your generous offer to help us."
Offer? Hogan bit his tongue. No matter what he thought of Voelker, he would not do anything to change his wife's understanding of the situation. "We do what we can," Hogan answered instead. "I hope you understand why bringing your son in blindfolded was necessary."
"It was difficult but we can appreciate the danger involved," Mrs. Voelker said. "Erich would have been beyond us if this had happened in the darkness. I do not know how we can ever thank you and your men for the risk you are taking."
"As long as he's not afraid of dogs," Hogan said, knowing the rest of their journey was not going to be much more pleasant.
"We have—we had a dog at home. Erich loves them," she said, glancing at her son, who had by now gone back to his play. Hogan felt a pang as the woman spoke. So many things they will have to say they used to own, used to do, used to believe…
"Your husband is in the camp," Hogan said. "We'll get him down here as soon as we can. You'll be leaving in the dog truck in a few hours. It will take you to our contacts who will get you out of Germany. You'll be in England in two days, and helped further when you get there."
"Danke, Colonel. Danke schoen." The woman smiled again. Hogan couldn't help but get the impression she was trying to put him at ease. He was grateful, and felt pity for her at the same time. To give up one's whole life, in order to save it…
"I'll have to leave you now," he said. "A few more arrangements to make. Sergeant Kinchloe is nearby if you need anything, and Corporal Le Beau will be back soon with something for you to eat."
Anna continued her silent staring. Hogan couldn't read her expression. "Your kindness is great, Colonel. Thank you," said Mrs. Voelker
Hogan had to turn away. "That's okay," he said. And shoving his hands in his pockets, he quickly walked away.
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Thirty minutes later Voelker was inside Barracks Two, Hogan having pried him and Becker away from Klink, saying that he had not gotten his apology, and that he wanted it in front of his men in his quarters. When Becker agreed, Klink's "Humph!" and shaking fist dissolved into a simpering smile.
Voelker surrendered his German uniform and Newkirk got to work on giving it to a private who would wear it out of the camp with Becker, then come back in through the emergency tunnel, with no one the wiser that "Strohm" had disappeared without a trace. Le Beau and Carter then outfitted Voelker in civilian clothes—their own clothes had been abandoned for light travel, the pack carried holding their most precious mementos—and sent him further down the tunnel for a reunion with his family.
"So far, so good, Colonel," said Kinch.
"That package ready to go?" Hogan asked, remembering the bomb at the end of Tunnel Four.
"Yes, sir. Courier is picking it up tomorrow. It will be delivered to Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg."
"Addressed to Strohm?"
"Yes, sir. When they realize Strohm deserted they'll be looking for evidence of his whereabouts and either destroy it, or open it, thinking it might give them a clue."
"And if they do the latter... Well, it'd be their own fault for tampering with the mail," Hogan quipped. "That's a federal offence!" He clapped Kinch on the shoulder. "Good work," he praised. "There's been a lot of work in this for you; you've done it well."
"Thanks, Colonel," Kinch said.
"Why don't you go on upstairs and get some sun on your face. You're looking pale."
Kinch grinned and swatted Hogan's arm, then headed up the ladder. Hogan smiled to himself, then sat down at the radio to collect himself. What a day this has been, he thought. And it isn't over yet.
Lost in thought, Hogan hadn't heard the footsteps approaching from behind him. So he was startled when a soft voice said, "Colonel Hogan, may I talk with you?"
Hogan turned and saw Anna Voelker standing there, looking charming in her pale dress despite the dimness of her surroundings. Her shyness was evident on her face, but she obviously was fighting it to come to him. Hogan turned his body to her, and gave her his full attention. "Sure," he said.
"I thought you would be upstairs," she started quietly.
"I come down here sometimes when I need to think."
"It would be frightening, sometimes," she pondered.
"It's easy to be scared here," Hogan offered, unsure how to answer.
"But you are very brave, Colonel. And brave men fear nothing."
"That's not true," Hogan said, not unkindly. "They fear just as much as anyone else. They're just more afraid of what will happen if they don't act, than they are of what will happen if they do."
Anna's eyes softened. "Colonel Hogan, I have heard much about you. I overheard my mother and father talking when they thought I was sleeping." Hogan raised an eyebrow. Anna lowered her eyes, embarrassed at her admission. "I know you have every right to be angry at my father, Colonel Hogan. But he loves us very much and does things that can only be justified by love."
Hogan listened to the wisdom of this girl without comment. Anna continued, "You were very kind to my brother, Colonel. Papa says there was great risk in bringing us here in the daylight."
"We do it when we have to," Hogan said.
Anna smiled softly. "You did not have to," she said. "Colonel Hogan, I would go to bed every night, frightened of every noise, every shadow. I would wonder when the Nazis would come for me, for my father—even to take my brother, or my mother, who are both so innocent. No matter what comes now, Colonel, I can sleep in peace. We are together, and once we are out of here and in England, I will never have to fear the night again." She moved to stand beside Hogan and, in a moment of boldness mixed with hesitancy, placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Kann Engel Bewachung über Ihnen, Colonel Hogan," she whispered. May angels watch over you. "I shall never forget your goodness."
Hogan watched thoughtfully as she disappeared back down the tunnel.