Usual disclaimers apply: I don't own 'Hogan's Heroes' and am only borrowing them for fun, not profit.

October 31, 1944
Hammelburg, Germany
Luft Stalag 13

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Newkirk took a final look around the table, then began. "A long, long time ago, there was this Irish fellow they called 'Shifty Jack'. Now, ol'Jack was a thief. He'd steal anything that wasn't nailed down, though if it were, he'd take it and the nail as well. He was also a mean sort of fellow, known for goin' around and breaking things if he couldn't steal them right off. You could say he did it just for spite, but he did it just because he liked doing it.

"So late one night, Jack was moving pretty quickly down a back country road. He was in a bit of a hurry because he'd just been spotted breaking into a church, and the good folks of the town were hot on his heels. He was payin' a bit more attention to th'road behind him as he went, so he wound up running right into none other than the Devil himself!

"Well, after picking himself off the ground, Jack glares at Old Nick and makes like he's gonna go on his way without botherin' to speak." Newkirk shook his head. "Not bloody likely, seein' as how the Devil had been standing there in the road waiting for Jack to show up in the first place.

"'Here now', says the Devil to Jack, 'you've done so many wicked things all your life that I decided to come get you in person, so let's go.' Jack figures he's in a real mess now, but he hasn't lived his life of crime without coming up with a few tricks now and again. So he turns to Old Nick and says, 'Ok, I'll come with you, but I'm surprised that you're giving up the chance to bedevil those lads that are chasing after me.' The Devil gets a puzzled look and wants to know what Jack means by that.

"'It's pretty simple really. Those fellows are after me because I stole money from the church, and when they catch me they're gonna want it back.' Jack held out a small leather pouch, shaking it so that the coins in it clinked together. 'So what we do is this; you turn yourself into a coin and I put you in the pouch. When they catch up, I throw the pouch at them and run off.' 'What will that accomplish?' asks the Devil, 'I'll be in the pouch and you'll be gone.' 'Simple' says Jack, 'let them count the coins, then you vanish. Later when they get back to the church, they'll count them again, and one'll be missing of course. Each will think the other stole it, which will set them to fighting between themselves, and in a church no less.'

"Well, mates, that kind of plan really appealed to Old Nick, so he turned himself into a coin, and Jack stuck him into the pouch. That, however, is where things went horribly wrong... at least from the Devil's point of view. Jack tossed the pouch all right, but he promptly sat down on it so the Devil couldn't accidentally get out."

"But Newkirk, all the Devil had to do was change back, so how could just sitting on the pouch keep him trapped like that?" Carter grinned as he spoke, clearly pleased with himself that he'd found, and solved, a hole in the Englishman's story.

"True, Carter, but you see, there was a small cross in the pouch from where Jack had robbed the church, and it was pressed right up against the coin the Devil had become. No matter that it had been stolen, it was still a holy object and could keep Old Nick from usin' his powers. About the only thing he could do was to start cursin' at Jack, and seeing how the Devil's pretty good at cursing things, it took a -very- long time before he finally wound down and got quiet.

"Finally he asked Jack what it would take to get himself free. Jack's reply was that the Devil had to promise to leave him alone. Seeing as how that cross was hurtin' him pretty badly by now, he agreed. Jack turned him loose and Ol'Nick vanished in a puff of sulfur-smoke.

"Sounds a bit like the end of the tale, don't it? And it might well have been, except for one very important thing that Jack forgot about."

Newkirk paused for a swallow of coffee, and Carter took the opportunity to chime in with "What did he forget? It seems to me that he pretty much had it in the bag. You know, what with having had the Devil trapped in his money pouch and all."

"Quite right you are, Andrew." Everyone chuckled as Newkirk reached over and gave Carter a mock punch to the shoulder. "I think my boy Carter here's almost ready to take on Old Nick himself."

"Gosh, no!" Carter's eyes widened in surprise at the comment. "I don't think that I -"

Newkirk cut in with "Relax, mate. Nobody's suggesting that you go charging into Hades with a bucket of water, you know." Newkirk grinned when he said it, though he was thinking that if anyone would give it a try, it would be Carter. He also knew that he'd be right behind his friend, bringing the mop along to finish cleaning up after Andrew J. had sorted Old Nick out.

"Anyway, what Shifty Jack forgot was that the Devil is the toff when it comes to being clever. He had made a promise, and was bound to keep any promise he made for no less than seven years. It seems there's some rules even he couldn't get around, and that was one of them. There's always a catch, though, and there wasn't anyone better at finding catches than the Devil himself.

"Jack had never said how -long- Old Nick had to leave him alone, so after the seven years was up, he was what you might call 'fair game'. Well, seven years to the night, while Jack was standing in a farmer's garden havin' himself a bit of a feast, the Devil sort of stretched out his hand so to speak, and Jack dropped dead on the spot.

"As you might imagine, that came as a bit of a surprise for Jack. One minute standing there having a bite of supper, the next, stone cold dead. After getting' his wits about him, he made his way up to the Pearly Gates. Unfortunately for him, St. Peter saw him comin' a mile off and closed the gates in a hurry. At that, Jack sighed, and headed for the -other- place.

"Well, they saw him coming down there too, and the Devil ordered that -his- gates be closed too. Seeing this, Jack stood and banged on the gates until Old Nick finally came out to see what all the fuss was about. Jack's a bit irate by this time, and he gets right to the point. 'You've got me fair and square, so open up and be quick about it!'

"'I'll not open the gates for you now or ever, Jack.' The Devil stood behind his closed gates, watching Jack from behind the bars. 'I'll not have you and your tricks loose down here to be bothering me for eternity. Now be on your way!'

"Jack's getting a bit desperate by now. Neither Heaven nor Hades is gonna let him in, so what's he gonna do now? "' You can't just be sendin' me off to wander all alone in the dark forever!' cried Jack as the Devil started to walk away.

"'Oh very well, if that's what it's gonna take to get you to go away!' Old Nick reached down, scooped a glowing chunk of brimstone off the ground and flung it at Jack. 'Here, take this and be off with you!'

"It seems that the Devil threw that coal so hard, it knocked Jack all the way back to his body that was still laying there in the garden where he'd left it. Funny thing, though, the brimstone had landed inside a hollowed-out bit of turnip that Jack had been eating when he'd keeled over. Jack picked it up, figuring he had to have some way to carry the burnin' stone. He carved a few holes in the turnip to let the light out a bit better and started walking. Some say he's still walking today.

"Well, when folks saw that glowing light being carried by a ghost, they made sure to keep as far away as possible. After all, you don't want to be messin' about with a spiteful ghost, seein' as how you never know what sort of mean tricks they might play on you if you do. So folks got the idea that if they carried around a lantern like Shifty Jack's, it might confuse him and the other ghosts into thinking that they were ghosts as well, and so they'd be left alone.'

Newkirk grinned and looked around the table. "And that, mates, is how Jack o'Lanterns came to be, and why everyone puts one out on the front step on All Hallows Eve, since that's said to be the night that all the restless spirits are out walkin' around."

"Great story, Newkirk." "That was a good story, I'd never heard it before." "Wow. Neat story, Newkirk. I really liked the part about getting the Devil to turn into a coin. That takes guts, trying to make a deal with him like that." The Englishman leaned back, eyes half closed as he listened to the comments about the story. A performer at heart, he was happiest when he was entertaining people, and the fact that these were his closest friends made it even better.

The clatter of tin broke into his reverie when LeBeau started dishing up the soup. Newkirk went to the stove, and as LeBeau handed him a plate, the Frenchman smiled up at him, saying "Merci, Pierre. That was tres bien, a very good story, and it's a very nice Jack o'Lantern that you made."

"Thanks, Louie, glad you liked it." Newkirk held his plate up, taking a sniff of the soup before looking at the chef. "Smells lovely, mate." Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued. "Confidentially, you make a much better potato soup than even me ol'mum, and that's sayin' something 'cause she's a great cook." With a wink and a grin, he went back to the table, leaving the French corporal temporarily speechless at the rare complement from the Englishman.

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November 22, 1945
London, England

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Newkirk sat next to the fireplace in his flat, a pint on the table as he opened an envelope postmarked 'Bull Frog, ND, USA'. As he unfolded the letter, something fell from it to the floor. He leaned down, and picked up what he discovered was a photograph. On the back was written 'Oct. 31, 1945 - Happy Halloween, Peter - Your friend, Andrew J. Carter'. He turned it over to find that it was a picture of Carter grinning like a fool as he held up a Jack o'Lantern carved from a turnip.

Laughing as he stood and went to the mantle, Newkirk gazed fondly at the picture before carefully setting in place beside five other nearly identical photographs he'd gotten from America and France. He picked up the pint, raising it in a silent toast to old and dear friends as he sat down to read his letter.

Author's Note: Newkirk's tale of Shifty Jack and his turnip is one of the many versions of how the 'Jack o'Lantern' came to be, but it's my personal favorite.

I found it interesting that France really didn't start celebrating Halloween until the early 1980's. This is the reason LeBeau asks "C'est que ce le 'Jack o'Lantern'?" or 'What is a Jack o'Lantern?'