Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Hogan's Heroes, and no infringement is intended.



Max Schweitzer's Horribly Bad No Good Rotten Day

"Schweitzer! Get in here!"


Lieutenant Max Schweitzer leapt to his feet to answer his commander's call. He dashed to the inner office to find Major Bergmann frantically shuffling through maps, charts, lists, nearly every bit of information they'd collected over the past five months.


"I can't find the bridge map!" Bergmann spit out as he tossed papers to and fro. Fighting the surge of panic that had been threatening to consume him all day, Max took a deep breath and began to methodically collect the papers strewn about Bergmann's office.


"Here you go, Sir." Max gingerly handed the slightly rumpled maps to the Major. "This map shows the locations and dates of the bridges destroyed in the past six months. This one here shows all the bridges in the area and their current status."


Bergmann tossed him a grateful look, which Max found more frightening than reassuring. Max began to slowly creep from the room when he heard a mangled cry and turned to see the Major banging his head against the wall. "How could I forget?" Bergmann cursed himself.


Usually able to anticipate the Major's wishes, Max simply could not fathom what information Bergmann was trying to pound out of his skull. He tried not to stare as a red splotch began to appear on the Major's forehead.


"Um, Sir, can I help you find something else?" Max stammered, hoping his interruption would stop the Major's bashing. Today was not the day to have to deal with a commander with a self-inflicted concussion.


"The eyewitness reports! We need to collate the eyewitness reports with the official damage reports of the sabotaged factories." Bergmann looked wildly about the room, as if the eyewitnesses themselves were about to appear. "Then cross-reference those with the secret research facilities…" Bergmann trailed off. "There's just no time," Bergmann pulled a few patches of hair from his skull as he fell despondent into his chair.


"Don't worry, Sir! We'll pull it together in time." Max tried to sound as if he believed it, but the truth was, there really wasn't enough time. They were in big trouble. "I'll put together the most recent reports. That should give the General a good overview of what we're dealing with."


Not really expecting a confirmation from the Major beyond the grunt of approval he thought he heard, Max made his retreat to the front office. Momentarily overwhelmed, Max stood lost behind the desk where he had spent so many innumerable hours over the past five months.


The piercing ring of the telephone snapped Max back to reality. "Kampfgruppe Bergmann, Lieutenant Schweitzer speaking. Heil Hitler," he answered by rote. The thunderous barking that followed forced Max to pull the phone away from his ear. An impending visit from the Gestapo: another cherry to top off this treat of a day.


"Yes Major Hochstetter. The prisoner is ready whenever you wish to come for him. No, Major. He had no papers on him. He claimed he left them at home… Yes, we did realize that was suspicious. That is why we proceeded to detain him." Max fought to refrain from rolling his eyes. They'd been through all of this before. "Yes, he has dark hair. An American? No, I don't think so. He spoke German like a native. He said his name was Hans Bricker, a local cobbler."


Barely listening to another bout of ranting, Max was stunned to see a large staff car screech to a halt in front of the Kampfgruppe Headquarters. Distracted, he quickly ended the conversation, "We look forward to your arrival Herr Major." Squinting intently out the window, Max didn't realize he'd already hung up the phone as he muttered an obligatory "Heil Hitler."


Max's heart sank when he recognized the ominous black uniform of a Sicherheitsdienst General. He scrambled to open the door for their guest, but only managed to knock over his chair, scatter some papers, and stub his toe on the filing cabinet.


The SD General burst into the office, imperiously stomping towards the poor befuddled Lieutenant, all the while waving a riding crop smacking anything within range. Though not much taller than Max, the General seemed to tower over him. The officer loomed in so close that a wicked-looking scar, interrupted by a black leather eye patch, was all Max could see.


"General von Baer?" Max squeaked. He found himself wondering if their headquarters was large enough to contain the presence of this man.


"Who else would I be?" von Baer arched the eyebrow over his one good eye.


"You… you're early, Herr General! We weren't expecting you until… well, um…when your aide called this morning, he said…"


"I am not early!" von Baer erupted, "I always arrive at the exact moment I intend to arrive! Understood, Lieutenant?"


Max struggled to lower the pitch of his voice. "Absolutely Sir, completely Sir, without a single doubt in my mind Sir! You are right on time, Sir!"


Stepping back and smacking the desk with his riding crop, the General bellowed, "Enough pleasantries! Gather the officers together!" Another slap, this time abusing a small potted plant: "I wish to meet," slap "with them," slap "at once!" Slap slap!


Max waited until the General grew weary of slapping the unfortunate plant, and tactfully cleared his throat. "This way to the conference room, Herr General." Max motioned across the hall.


Upon entering the large room the General stopped so abruptly, Max had to execute a fancy little two-step to avoid colliding into him. The General then proceeded to turn to face the length of the room and ever so slowly raise his arms out from his sides. What in Wodan's name was the General doing now? Max realized his mouth was hanging open, and shut it with a click of his jaw.


"My coat!" huffed von Baer impatiently, not deigning to meet Max's eyes.


Max mouthed an "Oh!" and quickly helped the General remove his coat. "Please have a seat, General." Max tried his best to be gracious. "Major Bergmann will be with you momentarily." Max ducked from the room, hung the coat by his desk, and as soon as he was sure he was out of the General's line of sight, took off on a mad dash for Major Bergmann's office.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Returning from his frantic run through the halls of their Kampfgruppe Headquarters, Max paused briefly to catch his breath. Then, nonchalantly strolling into the conference room, he was relieved to see the Kampfgruppe's officers sitting attentively, all trying desperately to not look the least bit nervous. Sliding into a seat next to a heavily perspiring Major Bergmann, Max caught a glimpse of who he assumed was the General's aide, a diminutive Captain a full head shorter than the General. Exchanging a few whispered words with von Baer, the Captain glared daggers across the room, then left, slamming the door behind him.


"Tell me, Major Bergmann," General von Baer's single-eyed stare jolted Bergmann to sit up even straighter. "What exactly is your mission here?" Max's eyes followed the General's riding crop as it bowed up, and then down, up and then down.


"Sir, we were to establish a task force to protect the factories, bridges and important military sites from the region's unusually high concentration of sabotage. Also, we were to root out and capture the saboteurs and dismantle the underground network, Sir!" Max was surprised to hear the Major supply such an articulate reply.


"And why, Major, do you think I have come all the way to this blackened coal pit of a town?"


Max heard a loud gulp come from the Major. This was the question to which they all feared the answer.


Five months ago Berlin had charged Major Bergmann to set up this Kampfgruppe in Kohlenhausen, a small gloomy town not too far from Hammelburg and central to a hotbed of sabotage activity. Day after day they followed a trail of blown up factories and bridges and supposedly secret military installations. But no matter their preparation, they could never seem to get a step ahead of the saboteurs, much less uncover the apparent mastermind behind them all.


As the weeks began to pass, Major Bergmann became convinced their lack of success would send him on a return trip to the Russian Front. Constantly reliving his previous experience there, the Major slowly crumbled into a nervous wreck, leaving most of the organizational responsibilities to Max.


"I assumed to check on our progress, Sir."


"NO!" The General spun around and smacked Bergmann on his already much abused forehead. Von Baer looked about the room making sure he had everyone's complete attention, as if it were possible he didn't, then continued: "I am sure you have all heard of the infamous Papa Bear, yes?"


Max leaned in closer. Now this could be interesting! Papa Bear was the rumored leader of the underground whose exploits had reached near mythic proportions. Max would never admit it to anyone, but secretly he dreamed of meeting the mysterious leader. If even half the tales were true, the man was a hero in Max's eyes, regardless of which side of the battle he fought.


"What if I were to tell you," the General opined, "that this very minute," he raised his arms high, "in this very building," his voice lowered to a growl, "the Papa Bear hides," his fists slammed down hard against the table causing them all to jump, "in plain sight!"


The room erupted to a cacophony of astonishment and disbelief. Major Bergmann was first to be heard over the din. "You mean the prisoner we captured last night? HE is the Papa Bear?"


Bergmann's rare moment of fortitude shriveled under the General's intense scrutiny. Von Baer then swept the room with his steely gaze. "I have it on good authority that Papa Bear is here among you." His riding crop shook with righteous indignation. "Perhaps it is one of you who are traitor to the glorious Third Reich." Once again the room descended into a clamor of murmurings and denials.


"Enough!" The General roared. "My men have surrounded the area, and are conducting a thorough search. He will be in our hands soon enough. My throat is dry. Bring me coffee."


It was a moment before Max's brain registered the General's demand for coffee. It took another moment to realize the General's eye was staring directly at him. Max leapt for the door, but one of his tunic's buttons caught on Major Bergmann's chair, ripping his pocket and slamming him back into his seat. Fumbling to untangle himself, he sputtered, "Right away, Sir!" and scampered from the room.