Usual disclaimers apply: I don't own 'Hogan's Heroes' and am only borrowing them for fun, not profit.
Nightingale Sang In Berkley Square
Carter hadn't realized how much Lisa had come to mean to him until he tried to put it into writing. He'd met her in London where she worked in her father's drug store. Chemist's shop, they called it, though, making it just one more entry on his list of odd English names and things. He'd been surprised to find that they had a lot in common despite the differences, as she had been studying to become a pharmacist before the war broke out.
They'd talked a lot of shop at first, which had been interesting, but had moved past that and had been well on the way to developing a solid friendship when he'd flown off on what proved to be his last mission. It had been both the concern and support from the guys at Stalag 13 and Lisa's constant stream of letters that helped him get back on his feet after getting the 'Dear John' letter from Mary Jane.
He'd been trying to figure out how to tell Lisa how much she meant to him when Newkirk had made his appearance in the radio room. Carter hadn't planned to tell the Englishman what was going on, but it just sort of slipped out. To his surprise, Newkirk hadn't tried to make a joke out of it the way he usually did.
Boy, this sure is strange. I mean, Newkirk's always got something to say no matter what's going on. I've never seen him like this. He's so quiet, and that look on his face... he's so serious. And kinda sad too, all at the same time.
Carter's thoughts were interrupted as Newkirk let out the breath he'd been holding, and in a gentle tone, the Englishman began to speak...
"That certain night, the night we met, there was magic abroad in the air. There were angels dining at the Ritz, and a nightingale sang in Berkley Square.
"I may be right, I may be wrong," he shrugged ever so slightly. "But I'm perfectly willing to swear, that when you turned and smiled at me, a nightingale sang in Berkley Square."
Newkirk reached up and removed his cap from his head, letting it dangle loosely from his fingers as he continued. "The moon lingered over London town, poor puzzled moon, 'e wore a frown. How could 'e know we two were so in love, when the whole darn world seemed upside down."
Carter sat absolutely still, his eyes fixed on his friend's face. Newkirk seemed unaware of the scrutiny and in fact hardly seemed to notice that Carter was even there as a tear glistened for a moment, then slid slowly down his cheek. Voice choked with emotion, Newkirk went on with his tale.
"The streets of town were paved with stars, it was such a romantic affair. And as we kissed and we said good bye... a n-nightingale sang in -." Newkirk absently reached up to brush the tear away, and the motion apparently made him realize where he was, as he cut himself off mid-sentence. "Well... that's all you need, Carter. Just tell 'er you love her and say that ol'Newkirk says hello."
"Were you ever in Berkley Square?"
"Once, Andrew... just once," Newkirk whispered as he stood up to leave. He glanced at his cap, not quite sure why it was in his hand, and slowly placed it on his head as he started for the ladder. "Good night."
He watched his friend in silence for a moment, awed that the proud Englishman had shared something so personal with him. "Good night... and thanks."