This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.
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© Copyright: 2004. Lisa Philbrick
Düsseldorf Radio Station
Düsseldorf, Germany
November 1944
Day 4
Having been involved with the organization of bands for so many years, Major Miller naturally fell into the routine of trying to take charge of the situation...within reason, considering where he was. He made it clear to the Propaganda Ministry that he wanted POW's for the band, more or less for communication purposes. Just because he spoke a few words of German on the ABSIE's broadcasts didn't make him fluent in the language by any means. He also was thinking that if he insisted on the players being POW's, would the opportunity be one that Colonel Hogan could use, to aid the escape? Plus, with POW's, they would know what was really going on, thus they could put on a good front of preparing and rehearsing for this broadcast. Even if all they could play was Mary Had a Little Lamb.
Although the Propaganda Ministry listened to the request, Miller got the impression that they already had their own idea in mind. And POW's would not have anything to do with it. Little did he realize just what, exactly, the Propaganda Ministry had in mind.
Having basically been told that he would be told what to do, and when to do it, Miller was then taken from Stalag 13 to Düsseldorf and to a radio station that was completely run by the Propaganda Ministry. The facilities had seen better days and the recording studio, Miller noted, was not what he was used to in London or back in the States, although the facilities in London had their own inadequacies. This studio was small, and fitting a band here was going to make for cramped quarters. Of course, that was assuming he was going to get something resembling a band.
The radio station was placed under moderate guard with a Gestapo man at each of the three entrances to the building and two were posted directly outside the recording studio's doors. Miller was pretty much locked into the recording studio alone until the band players arrived. He poked around at the few instruments that were in the room, an acoustic guitar with one string missing, the drum set which appeared to be complete but probably didn't sound very tight and he found the piano sounded about the same as the one back at Stalag 13. The rest of the few instruments, string instruments, seemed pretty much neglected. The room itself was in need of repairs; a few of the sound dampening tiles were missing from the walls and ceiling. It was actually quite depressing.
Miller looked through the glass in to the control room, which was unoccupied, and saw a mix of dated and modern components. The control room was just as depressing looking at the rest of the small studio.
Behind him, Miller heard the door to the studio be unlocked and opened. He turned to see a Gestapo guard step in and several German boys followed, some of them not looking much older than sixteen. They all carried an instrument, trumpets, clarinet, trombones, saxophones, some in cases, some not. Three of the boys wore Hitler Youth uniforms. The other six boys wore civilian clothes. All of them looked unsure of what they were doing there.
Major Miller suddenly wasn't so sure either. Was the Propaganda Ministry kidding? Kids? Okay, so they didn't want him to have POW's but....kids??
The Gestapo guard stepped back out of the studio and closed the door, locking it. The studio was silent as the German youths and Miller looked at each other for an awkward moment. Miller took a breath and was about to speak when one of the older boys at the back looked back at him and suddenly seemed to behold horror. "Sie bist ihn!" You are him!
Miller blinked. All he knew of what the boy said was "sie" which was German for "you." He stepped back. For all he knew he'd been cursed. One of the other boys turned and shushed the boy that had spoken, but he kept going. "Der ist er! Das amerikanische bandleader, Glenn Miller!" That is him! The American bandleader, Glenn Miller!The only piece of that Miller caught was his own name and American bandleader. Several of the boys looked at him differently, recognizing him and then began to talk fast amongst themselves.
Great, Miller
thought. I'm going to be whacked upside the head with a clarinet by some
little Nazi kid....
Miller wasn't sure he could trust the smile. "Um...yes, I am. You speak English?"
"Yes." The boy looked at one of the trombone players. "Ahren speaks English as well. You must pardon the others here...all of us enjoy your music but, we do not understand why you are here, instead of in England."
Miller relaxed only marginally. "I was captured by the Gestapo," he said and stepped forward cautiously to the group. "And brought here."
The boy translated to the others. Several of them muttered something with contempt and Miller's sense of alert started to fade.
"That is why the broadcasts stopped..." the boy said to Miller. The Major nodded and wondered if these kids were Swing Youths, the kind the Gestapo arrested for listening or playing swing music. They knew who he was by sight, they knew of the broadcasts...and judging from the instruments in hand, they knew how to play the music. They had to be, why else would the Propaganda Ministry bring them here, if these kids couldn't play swing music?
"My band was told that if they played," Miller explained to the blonde haired boy, "the Gestapo would kill me."
The boy translated. Miller saw the looks of anger on the young faces. There was more muttering, possibly cursing.
"All of us were arrested by the Gestapo for playing swing music too," the boy explained. "The Nazis....they do not like the American music."
"I know." Yes, they were Swing Youths. Miller gestured to the band chairs for the boys to sit down. They did and he too pulled up a chair and sat down. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked at the boy who was doing all of the translating. "What is your name?"
"Hans."
"Hans, were you or any of these boys told why you were being brought here today, with instrument in hand?"
Hans translated the question. Miller understood the chorus of 'nien' that followed.
"None of us," the boy said.
"Well I'll tell you. You've all been brought here because the Propaganda Ministry wants to make broadcasts to German youths just like you, and tell them how great and wonderful the Third Reich is and that they should pledge themselves to the future of the Reich and the tremendous responsibility that lies ahead. And they want to use swing music to do it."
Hans translated to the group. Before he finished, there was the collective shaking of heads and Miller could pick up on the dislike that the youths vocalized. One of the sax players spoke up directly to Hans and the blonde haired Hitler Youth member nodded before turning back to Miller.
"Herr Miller, swing music is part of our curriculum to be against everything the Third Reich stands for. They know that and that is why they arrest us. They put us in camps, they try to send us to the Hitler Youth. They do everything they can to break the spell, and some times they succeed. But other times, we still carry the music..." the boy pointed to his chest. "In here. You understand why we do not like the idea of using the music to help them."
"Oh believe me, I understand. Because I'm not too crazy about all of this myself...."
"But the Propaganda Ministry and the Gestapo leave us little choice," Hans finished.
Miller nodded grimly.
"Ich speile nicht für Nazin," I will not play for the Nazis, the second of the three sax players spoke up. A few others spoke their agreement. The other boys just remained quiet. Miller looked at Hans.
"He says he will not play for the Nazis."
Miller sighed. "I don't blame him," he conceded. He stood up from the chair and paced a moment in front of the bandstand keeping his gaze downward and away from the young musicians. He felt a little selfish about all of this. The only reason he was really there was because Hogan had said to agree to do it, because the Colonel had a plan to get him out of Germany. Now he was asking these kids to go against one of their dearest principles, a principle he held himself, in order to facilitate his escape. And that wasn't fair.
At the same time, however, these kids had the greatest opportunity before them. For a little while at least, they could play the music that they loved so dearly and not be reprimanded for it. Miller had to admit he was curious as to how well these kids could play. Most of his AEF band members were in their early twenties...but the kids here didn't look much older than 16. If even that. Maybe they weren't really very good.
"Aber ich spiele für Sie," But I will play for you.
Miller turned around and looked at Hans. "He will play for you," the young boy said with a smile.
Miller looked at the young musicians and saw them as they nodded their heads. Although he appreciated this, he didn't like the fact that he had another motive for all of this. And he really couldn't tell them about it. Despite the boys' reactions to his capture and to the Ministry wanting to use them for this broadcast, the sight of the three boys in the Hitler Youth uniforms gave Miller pause. Maybe they were on his side...maybe they weren't. If he said anything it could be reported to the Gestapo, and then it would be all over.
On the other hand, he couldn't back out either, not without arousing even more suspicion. The die had been cast and it was too late to change his mind now.
So, he resigned himself to the fate and he nodded to young musicians. "Well," he said. "Let's see what you boys can play..." He looked at Hans. "Would you ask if any of them would like to start first and if not would you start first?"
The boy nodded. He turned to the group and asked the question. From the back a hand went up and a dark haired boy stood up with his trumpet.
"Hallo," Miller said, deciding to try an use some of the German he had learned. "Dien name?"
The boy smiled. "Erik."
"All right, Erik, let's have a listen..."
The boy paused a moment to think of a tune. He looked at Hans. "Schnell oder langsam?"
Hans looked at Miller. "Fast or slow?"
"Both."
"Beide," Hans said to Erik. The trumpet player nodded and raised the instrument to play.
The small studio became quiet, except for the sound of one lone trumpet playing Stardust. The boy was a little nervous at the start but the sound grew strong and the notes were held perfectly. Miller almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. In fact, he was so struck by it, he slowly sat back down in the chair and just watched the boy as he played.
The boy played a shortened version of the song and when he finished he lowered the instrument in front of him and looked at Major Miller.
Miller was amazed. He smiled and looked at Hans. "That was incredible! How old is he?"
Hans translated the praise and the question. Erik nodded to Miller and said, "Danke. Ich bin vierzehn."
"He's fourteen."
"Fourteen..." Fourteen years old and he plays like that?! He looked at Erik. "What else can you play?"
Hans translated and Erik grinned, raising the instrument again. He then blew out the opening note of Pennsylvania 6-5000 and Miller saw as a couple of the other boys raised their instruments to join him. This prompted all of the boys to ready their instruments and begin playing. They played through the first part coming to the first stop and all of the kids suddenly shouted out: "Pennsylvania six five thousand!"
Miller smiled and sat back, listening to the young players. He joined them on the second vocal refrain. "Pennsylvania six five thousand!"
Erik skipped ahead to the trumpet solo which then led to the sax solo. The sax player, one of the civilian dressed kids, hit a wrong note and the song fell apart by that point as the kids started giggling. But Miller had heard plenty to know that he was dealing with some kids who were extremely serious musicians.
"Est tut mir leid," the sax player said to Miller. I apologize.
Miller chuckled. "It's all right," he said. He looked at the various faces in the band. "I get the feeling however, based on what you just played, that you boys have all played together before..." He looked over at Hans for the answer.
The young boy nodded. "Yes. We were all in the same band, until the Gestapo arrested us a couple of months ago. We had other players too but they were older than us and sent to the Army."
Miller looked at the three uniformed boys. "And you three were sent to the Hitler Youth."
Hans nodded. "They will take us into the Army soon enough. They already train us like soldiers. They have us doing the tasks of soldiers."
"What about the others? Are they too young for Hitler Youth or did they resist?"
"They resisted. You see Herr Miller, the choice was to join Hitler Youth and be allowed to stay with our families, or not join and be sent to detention camps. The other boys here have no family left, so there was no reason to join the HJ."
Ahren, the trombone player who understood English, quickly explained to the other boys what was being said. One of the Hitler Youth boys, the third sax player, spoke up.
"Einige von uns haben keinen Grund, im HJ zu bleiben..." Some of us have no reason to remain in the HJ... the 16-year-old said.
Miller looked at the brown haired sax player that had spoken and then to Hans for the translation. "Adler says he has no reason to stay in the HJ." Hans hesitated.
Miller knew why and he looked at Adler. "I'm sorry," he said.
Adler nodded, understanding the sympathy in the Major's voice, even if he didn't understand what was spoken. The boy dropped his gaze for a moment, holding his composure. It was hard to be strong, but he would stay strong. He had made a promise that he would.
In the awkward silence of the studio, Miller felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. Before it got to be too much, Adler looked at him.
"Major Miller..., da wir hier sind, warum nicht spielen wir etwas Musik?" Major Miller...since we are here, why don't we play some music?
The other boys nodded. "Ja..."
Hans translated. "He says why don't we play some music, seeing we are all here."
Miller looked at Adler and saw the boy nod. He glanced at the others and then looked at Hans. "Yes, why don't we?"
The rest of the afternoon was spent being introduced to the young players, finding out what each of the players could play and then organizing the small band into something that sounded fairly decent. Major Miller had no sheet music to go by or to give to the musicians, so he basically had to go by trial and error, and use the various songs that the kids had all played regularly before they had been arrested. One of the songs was his own signature song, Moonlight Serenade. This song showcased the clarinet player, 16 year-old Avril, the one who had nearly had a conniption upon recognizing the band leader, and again Miller listened in amazement as the boy played the solo.
The others all demonstrated their abilities as well. The first sax player, 15 year old Johann, whose solo earlier during Pennsylvania 6-5000 fell apart, redeemed himself in quick fashion. The second sax player, 16 year-old Emery, and the third, Adler, showed themselves to be quite competent. Adler seemed much more content now that he was playing music.
Sixteen-year old Hans played his trumpet just as good as Erik had.
The trombonists were also quite capable. Fifteen-year old Ahren, the other boy who spoke English seemed quite comfortable with solos. The third HJ boy, 15-year-old Josef seemed more comfortable playing rhythm, but demonstrated an ability to solo. The last trombonist was 14-year-old Roderick, who preferred not to solo, but could hold a rhythm section very well.
With soloists for clarinet, saxophone, trumpet and trombone, the kids then played the Benny Goodman song Flat Foot Floogee, a somewhat nonsense tune that had all four instruments featured for solos. Miller found this unique as he knew the song originally had Goodman's clarinet solo twice, but apparently the kids had decided to swap out one of the clarinet solos for a trombone solo. Hearing the kids try to make sense of the nonsense English lyrics was amusing as Miller knew on the record of the song it was difficult to distinguish if they were saying bright eyes or something totally different.
Although the young Germans played well, there were instruments missing from the group that would have made the band sound more complete. The total make up of this group consisted of one clarinet player, three saxophones, three trombone players, and two trumpet players. There was no drummer, no bass player and no piano player.
Miller considered this during a break. If the circumstances were different, he would have basically thought the hell with the Propaganda Ministry and left the band as it was, essentially providing beat less, incomplete swing on the day of the broadcast. But since his original request for POW's was declined, he still figured he could try to provide Hogan the opportunity to be out of the camp if it was needed, by insisting on POW's again.
Half way through the last song of the afternoon, Hauptmann Reigels and Anna came into the studio. Major Miller saw them but ignored them for the moment, leading the band through the rest of the song. When they finished, the young musicians set their instruments down on their laps and did not look at the Ministry officials who were in the studio. Major Miller turned to the two.
Anna smiled at the Major. "They sound very good Herr Major."
"They would sound better if I had a drummer, a piano player and a bass player," Miller replied.
"We tried to find those for you but were unable to," Reigels said.
The conversation was momentarily interrupted when a Gestapo guard came in to escort the boys out. The young musicians packed their instruments up and stood, filing out of the studio single file. Miller watched them go and each player nodded to him as they departed. When the last one was gone and the door closed, Miller looked back at Reigels and Anna.
"I also asked for POW's for this broadcast. I guess you were unable to find any of those too."
"Unfortunately, Major Miller, you are not to be seen by any Allied soldier, including POW's," Anna said. "Yet. Besides, this broadcast is aimed at German youth, therefore it is more appropriate that German youth be heard playing the music and voicing their support and loyalty to the Reich."
"Spare me the rhetoric. If that were true, then you wouldn't need me here. This broadcast may be directed toward Germans but I know you'll take my being here and doing this as a gloriously traitorous act and rub it right in the faces of the Allies."
Anna and Reigels exchanged glances. Reigels then looked at the Major. "It is true, Herr Major, that your capture presents us with many opportunities."
"Don't count on them. In the meantime, if you want swing music for this broadcast, I'm going to need sheet music and you better find me a drummer, a piano and a bass player. POW or otherwise."
The studio door opened again and two Gestapo guards entered to escort Major Miller out of the studio. Miller glanced at the guards then looked at Anna and Riegels, saying nothing more. He turned and walked to the door, leaving with the guards.