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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"Okay, I've made my decision. The ammo dump and the bridge near it are tonight's targets."

Hogan held a meeting in his office the next morning, his men forming a semi-circle around him as he pointed to the different locations on a small map on his desk. "Why those, Colonel?" asked Carter.

"Because we'll have the greatest chance of success there. And if the Germans are investigating the sabotage there, they may be distracted from the munitions factory, over here," Hogan answered, moving his finger along the map to the location of the plant, several miles in the opposite direction, "which may make it easier to get in. Once we've got that, we'll go for the second bridge, down here, and then, all going well, we'll get Ludwig and Alida out."

Hogan paused, hating that he had to put the couple last, wishing he could do it differently, but knowing that he couldn't, if he intended to follow London's orders.

"Get in to the munitions factory?" Kinch asked. "How are you intending for us to do that?"

"I was hoping I could just slip that one in there unnoticed. Obviously, you fellas are just too sharp," Hogan said. He pulled out another diagram. "I've been studying the layout of the plant. It's heavily guarded and completely enclosed by an electrified fence. The Krauts have done too nice a job of protecting it for it to be an easy target. So," he said, "that means we're going to have to get to it another way."

"I'm not sure I'm going to like this," Newkirk commented, only half kidding.

"I'm sure you won't," Hogan retorted. "As a matter of fact I think you're going to hate it. But we don't really have many choices. Newkirk—you, Carter, and I are going to get inside that plant and place some bombs in and around the equipment. Kinch, you and Le Beau are going to be doing the same thing outside. We'll get you inside the perimeter once we're on site."

"I was right; I don't like it at all," Newkirk concluded.

"How are we going to get in, Colonel?" Le Beau asked.

"The plant's new, it needs workers. The Krauts have gotten plenty of local people involved. We're going to conveniently replace three of them and go inside ourselves. One of us will slip away and de-electrify the fence for Kinch and Le Beau, while the others plant the bombs inside."

"One other thing," Hogan resumed. "Once we start this, we're bound to have the Gestapo crawling all over the woods. So we're going to have to get Ludwig and Alida out tomorrow night."

"But Colonel, London ordered us to wait," Kinch reminded him.

"We are waiting; I'd rather bring them out tonight," Hogan retorted grimly. "After we blow the munitions plant, I'll make a detour and bring them here, and we'll keep them here until the heat's off. I don't want to lose the chance to get them out." The others were quiet. "Understood?"

"Oui, Colonel." Le Beau looked at the others. "Understood."

"What about the locals inside the factory?" Carter asked.

Hogan grimaced. "I'm still working on that. Let's just hope I can come up with something that will work."

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 "The Underground is passing on a message to our two parcels to be ready for pickup tomorrow night," Kinch said. He emerged from the tunnel and came up to Hogan, who was sitting with his elbows on the table in the common room, hands crossed to support his chin, staring at something his mind's eye was playing out before him.

Hogan didn't answer. Kinch tried again. "Colonel?" Hogan blinked himself back to the present and looked at him. "Ludwig and Alida will be ready for us tomorrow night. White Rabbit is getting them the message."

"Thanks, Kinch." Hogan settled his chin back on his hands and turned back to his thoughts.

Kinch looked around the empty room, waited. After a minute he asked simply, "Where are the fellas?"

"Outside." Hogan was still miles away.

Kinch was beginning to recognize the mood Hogan was slipping into. He tried to reassure him gently. "Colonel, you've got all the bases covered." Nothing. Hogan's stillness was disturbing. "We're gonna be okay."

The instant replay became visible in Hogan's eyes. "That's what I told the boys when Goldilocks was heading out on her last mission. No one came back… half of us didn't get out at all."

"That was different," Kinch said. Hogan looked at him, with only the slightest questioning in his eyes. "They were gunning for you, wanted you bad. Colonel Hogan was quite a thorn in their side." Hogan's eyes fell to the table. "No one knows that you're Papa Bear. They won't know what hit 'em."

Hogan thought of the men he was taking with him, the people they were trying to help, the civilians who worked in the factory they were pledged to destroy. "There are too many lives at risk," Hogan said, angry, still not moving.

"We're volunteers, Colonel," Kinch reminded him. "We're doing this because we want to. You couldn't protect us from this if you tried."

Hogan nodded. He couldn't focus on anything but the overwhelming sounds and images in his mind. The piercing screams, the stifling heat, the searing pain, the adrenalin-soaked jump into a flak-peppered sky. And the sensation of breath-taking fear, accompanied by guilt—devastating, paralyzing guilt. "It can't happen again," he whispered. "Not because of me."

Kinch looked at Hogan's whitening face, his now less-than-steady hands. "It won't," he said firmly, drawing his commanding officer's troubled gaze. Then, softer, "You didn't start this war. You can't end it yourself. You have to trust us to help, too."

Hogan dropped his hands and straightened. "I do trust you; it's the Germans I can't trust. You're following my orders. If something should happen—"

"Then as Louis says, 'C'est la guerre.' We signed on for the hard stuff, Colonel. We know the risks. And if we're going to trust anyone's judgment besides our own, it's yours. You haven't steered us wrong yet."

"There's always a first time."

Kinch shook his head. "I know it's no picnic in the park, Colonel. I wouldn't want the burden of command, myself. But it'll get easier. Ten or twelve of these missions and you'll wonder what all the fuss was about."

Hogan looked at the man sitting before him, seeing reflected on Kinch's face all the men he had left behind: the crew of his plane, Goldilocks, slapping each other on the back as they began their twentieth, fateful, mission, not knowing that it would be the last time some of them would ever see home. And the crew innocent: Bailey, whose unexpected appearance at Stalag 13 had rescued Hogan from hopelessness when he had been sure he would go mad, and whose escape from a nearby Stalag had convinced Hogan that he could make a real difference to the war by staying under the eyes of the Germans instead of following his navigator to safety. Oh, how tempting it had been to follow Bailey out! But in the end, it had made Hogan more determined to make something of the seemingly insane plan of Allied High Command to set up shop here, and to get boys home.

"It won't get easier, Kinch," Hogan said finally. "But I'll be able to hide the panic a lot better.—Come on, let's see what's keeping the others occupied."

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"Lights out, everybody, time for lights out!"

Schultz's voice echoed through the barracks, making it clear in everyone's mind that it was the Germans who were ultimately in charge. Wake to their shouting in the morning; close the day to their shouting at night. No wonder the guys get nightmares, Hogan thought. He came out from his room, bathrobe wrapped around him, a scarf borrowed from another prisoner covering his neck and the opening in the top of the robe. "G'night, Schultz. Sleep tight," Hogan said.

"No sleep tonight, Colonel Hogan," Schultz bemoaned. "Just guard duty."

"Awww," Le Beau sympathized dramatically. "You don't like being a big bad German, Schultzie?"

"You know I do not like to take sides," Schultz replied. "And I definitely do not like being outside on a night like this." He shivered in the cold that was seeping through the cracks between the planks that made up the walls of the hut.

"Would you like some warm apple cider, Schultz?" asked Newkirk.

Schultz's eyes lit up, and a smile that was reserved only for culinary pleasures took over his face. "Ja, Newkirk, ja, very much!" he sang.

Newkirk shrugged. "So would I. But we're stuck with old coffee and not enough sugar. A shame, isn't it?"

Schultz's face fell. Hogan smiled at his men's rowdiness. It'll get easier. "Okay, fellas, okay, let's let Schultz get on with his long, lonely vigil."

"Not lonely, Colonel Hogan. The Kommandant has six of us out on rounds tonight."

"Six?" Hogan echoed.

"Ja. That Gestapo Colonel, Feldkamp, he told the Kommandant that he is suspecting trouble, and he wants to have extra patrols out to watch in case there is an escape from another camp tonight," Schultz said confidentially.

Hogan had frowned at the mention of Feldkamp's name. "Sounds like Klink's letting this guy take over!" he protested.

"Please, Colonel Hogan, promise me—no monkey business tonight, ja? I am due to go on leave soon; I do not want the Kommandant to be angry with me."

"Don't worry, Schultz; we won't do anything you can find out about."

"Danke, Colonel Hogan, danke." Schultz stopped and seemed to think about what Hogan had said. "And don't do anything I can't find out about!"

He opened the door to the barracks, prompting loud protests from the cold prisoners, and went back out into the night. Le Beau pushed the door shut quickly behind him.

"Extra patrols," Kinch said, pulling on a black sweater.

Hogan ripped off the scarf to reveal a dark shirt, then took off the robe, which had been hiding clothes to travel in. "Mm, Feldkamp's getting edgy. He's still on Klink's back, and Klink's just enough of a pushover to let him stay there," Hogan said. "We'll just have to be even more cautious."

"And what a night to go out," Le Beau shivered, coming toward the center of the room. He pulled off his torn red sweater to reveal dark clothing beneath it.

"It's a great night to do this!" Carter enthused.

Hogan paused and looked at his demolition expert, his curiosity getting the better of him. "How's that, Carter?"

"Well, explosions cause fires. Fires are warm. That's great on a night like tonight."

Kinch shook his head. Newkirk gave Carter a deadpan stare. "You astound me," Newkirk said.

"What makes you think we're going to stay around to toast marshmallows?" Hogan asked.

"Aw, gee, Colonel—I wouldn't mind getting to see what it looks like when the dynamite goes off. The bridge'll break up like a pile of matchsticks; it'll be a truly awesome sight!" Carter said.

"Oh, you'll see it all right—over your shoulder as you run away," Hogan answered. "Otherwise you could be reminiscing from a Gestapo jail—or in front of the firing squad." He shook his head. Sending innocents like Carter out to do sabotage work—it'll get easier? he thought doubtfully. Not likely. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we get back and into our cozy, not-so-warm beds," Hogan said. He looked at the men assembled, changing their clothes and ready to do their part. "Let's get on with it. Newkirk, where's the shoe polish? We need to cover our faces. The less visible we are, the better I'll like it."