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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Hogan stood staring at the headsets Kinch was holding out to him, almost afraid to take them. He looked from one man to the other, waiting for some insistence that now was the time. "Colonel?" Kinch prompted again.

Hogan flexed his fingers and took the offering, putting them on his head and nodding to Kinch to start the transmission. Le Beau stood tensely nearby, with Newkirk upstairs watching for the antenna to go up, and others on the lookout for any unwanted German intrusions. Kinch flicked a switch and started pumping the lever on the wall. Newkirk signaled that all as well at the flagpole above Klink's office, then left another prisoner in charge of Jerry-spotting and joined the others downstairs.

Kinch nodded as the radio hummed, then started tapping out a message using code from the notes Hogan had brought back to camp strapped to his body. The nervous anticipation in the tunnel was almost physical as they waited for a reply. A few seconds that felt like a few hours passed, and Kinch started writing frantically as the machine near his hand came to life. The others looked at each other with hope in their eyes, and watched his hand move across the paper as if their stares were making it happen. Kinch finally nodded and looked up. "Recognition code accepted, Colonel." He handed Hogan the clipboard with the paper he had been writing on. "Use this code to identify yourself."

Hogan looked at the paper and frowned. Glancing at the men around him, Hogan took a deep breath and leaned down toward the microphone on the table. "This is Goldilocks, repeat, Goldilocks," he said, his voice reflecting a sudden unhappiness that bewildered Le Beau and Newkirk. "Calling Mama Bear. Do you read?"

A silence followed, Hogan straining to listen, his face a picture of concentration. Suddenly he straightened, obviously hearing something back. A slight smile crossed his face. "It's good to hear your voice, too." He nodded towards the men and listened. "Yes, the first bed is too hard here," he answered, shrugging at the others. They grinned.

A long silence from Hogan followed, during which Hogan's face lost its lightness. "Yes, I'd like to know, sir," he said at last. His voice had steeled itself, and he stopped looking at the men around him. "I see," he said soon, his voice strangled. "And Bailey?" Another pause. "Martinez, too?" Hogan's men looked at each other, starting to understand. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. One of my men here will take details. Of course, sir. Tomorrow night, same time." He handed the headsets and microphone to Kinch silently, moving away from the group to stand near the ladder.

Kinch quickly transcribed what he was being told, then confirmed another communication for the following evening. Specifics of their set up would be sent via their code instead of by voice tomorrow morning, for security. Kinch then signed off, shut the radio down, and looked at Le Beau and Newkirk. "They want to know what kind of plan we've got going here," he said. "We're to contact again tomorrow night. Same frequency, different code to be transmitted in the morning." He looked over toward Hogan, who was still frowning in his own thoughts. "I volunteer to man the radio when the time comes, Colonel."

"Fine, fine." Hogan nodded inattentively. Pulling himself together, he briefly looked to his men. "This is good for everyone, fellas. Nice work." He looked like he wanted to say more, but did not. Instead, he gestured futilely up the ladder. "I'm tired--I'm gonna hit the sack."

"Good night, Colonel," Le Beau said, worried. He and Newkirk looked at Kinch when Hogan disappeared. "He is unhappy," Le Beau observed.

"He just found out what happened to the crew of his plane," Kinch said.

"Obviously not very good news," surmised Newkirk.

"I don't know. But I do know that Goldilocks is the name of the plane he was shot down in." He shook his head. "It was probably meant as a mark of respect. But all it's bound to do is bring back some bad memories."

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Four dead. Three missing. Three in prison camps. Hogan went through his crew members' faces in his mind. Images of their final moments in the sky flashed through like fleeting ghosts. Come on, damn it, pull up! There must have been something he could have done, must have been some trick he could have pulled out of his sleeve. He was the Commander of the squadron; the crew had been counting on him. But in the end he could think of nothing, and even now the whole traumatic experience was still a blur in his mind, an indistinct mixture of frantic shouting, of overwhelming heat, of devastating fear.

Four dead. Three missing. Hogan rolled over on his bunk, wincing as he thoughtlessly put pressure on his sore shoulder. Four dead. Three missing. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a tension headache he could feel starting between his eyes. Four dead. Three missing. He thought of the men he had left down in the tunnel tonight. Three in prison camps.

I'm sorry, fellas, he said to his downed Goldilocks crew. I let you down. But I won't let it happen again. These guys will get out. I'll make sure of it.

Hogan's mental anguish combined with his physical pain to keep him awake for a long time after the transmission. When he did fall asleep, it was to a confusion of names, faces, doubts and fears, that haunted his dreams till the morning.

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"Colonel Hogan, sir?" Kinch waited for a minute, looking at the officer lying eyes closed on his bunk, then shrugged and turned to leave his quarters.

"What is it, Kinch?" came Hogan's tired voice.

Kinch turned back to see Hogan still lying with his eyes shut. "Sorry to wake you, Colonel. I just got off the radio with London."

Hogan opened his eyes and sat up with a heavy sigh. "You didn't wake me; I was just trying to escape for awhile." Running his hand through his hair, he asked, "What's the score?"

"I told London about our tunnel, our radio set up, and our regular contact with the Underground," Kinch started. "Quite frankly, Colonel, they were really impressed, especially when I told them how we secured the last part of the radio."

Hogan stood up and started straightening his clothes. "They didn't need to know that," he said shortly.

Kinch shrugged. "All due respect, Colonel; what you did was worthy of note. It was a big sacrifice."

Hogan's nightmares flashed through his mind. "Men have made bigger ones," he said. Kinch nodded and turned to go. Hogan made to follow him out, then stopped. "Kinch--"

The Sergeant turned back to Hogan. "Thanks for all your hard work."

Kinch offered Hogan a slight smile and nodded. "Don't want to waste the chance you gave us, Colonel." He paused, wanting to broach another subject but hesitant to dredge up old wounds. "Sorry about. your men, sir."

"Guess I was one of the lucky ones," Hogan said quietly. "Remind me to be grateful next time I sound off."

"No one would be game to at that point, sir. Maybe later on."

Hogan laughed and came out to join the others.

"Colonel-we've done it. The tunnel's coming up in the woods outside the camp."

Hogan looked up from the book he was seeing through and stared at Newkirk. "You're kidding!" he said.

"No, sir, I'm certainly not!" Newkirk answered, with a cocky pride in his voice that accompanied a similar smile. "Come on down, sir-we want you to see it."

Hogan dropped the book and followed, suddenly realizing it was the first time he'd felt eager and pleased about something in months. With their Underground contacts safe, the completion of the tunnel meant the men could start planning escapes again. And when he was satisfied all was going smoothly, he could take part in one again himself.

And get back in the sky. He thought of his old crew and swallowed hard. You fellas won't have died in vain.