No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Sergeant Schultz remained unmoving as the men from Barracks Two were dismissed from their earlier-than-usual morning roll call. General Burkhalter was an early riser, something that did not go down well with either the guards or the prisoners. And once they had been roused, often the prisoners could not go back to sleep, which meant the guards had to be alert a lot earlier than normal, a problem for Schultz even when his mind was at rest.
Today, he watched as the men Colonel Hogan had always been closest to shuffled tiredly back into their hut, wishing that the American officer was there now so he had someone to confide in. But it had been four days since Hogan had last been seen in solitary confinement, and all searches had ceased in the immediate vicinity. Hogan was gone.
Something about the situation bothered Schultz, aside from the fact that Newkirk had Kinch had made it quite clear that they had access to the cell where Hogan had been being held. He could not understand why the men were still so surly. If they had indeed gotten Colonel Hogan out, and he was safe, why would they be upset? He thought back to when he had first learned that there was some definite monkey business going on in the camp—when he had been stunned by his own brother Ludwig coming out of a tunnel under the barracks. Hogan and his men were more than just mere prisoners of war; they were still fighting, right under the Germans' noses.
Schultz reluctantly considered the possibility that Hogan had not survived Hochstetter's interrogation. The sounds he had heard while guarding the room were enough to drive a sane man out of his mind—the human suffering was immense, which was hard enough. But hearing it inflicted by someone who seemed to enjoy it had left him nearly retching, and it was only fear for his own life that had stopped him from bursting into the cell and using his own strength to bring Hochstetter to a halt. Perhaps Hogan had died. Schultz was unsure how he would deal with that idea, if it was a reality.
Newkirk was the last to head back inside, and Schultz shook himself into action and followed. "Englander," he beckoned, as Newkirk headed for the stove. "Can I talk to you?"
Newkirk turned to the guard and nodded. "Sure, Schultzie," he said.
Le Beau, Kinch and Carter observed quietly, milling about the room. Le Beau started to gather some food for breakfast. Though the sun had barely broken the horizon, he had things to do, and there was a man healing downstairs who would need nourishment. If he could do nothing else, there was always the need for food. It kept his hands busy, and stopped his mind from focusing too sharply on their problems.
"I would like to know—" Schultz paused. No, I would not like to know. But I need to know. He rephrased his unspoken words. "The prisoners have been very cross lately."
Newkirk shrugged, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. He sat down at the table before answering. "Things haven't been so wonderful for us here lately," he said simply. "In case you hadn't noticed."
Schultz nodded knowingly. "They have not been so wunderbar for me either, Newkirk." He sat down at the table without being invited. Le Beau shook his head but kept at his duties. "It is very confusing for the guards. Kommandant Klink is locked up, and no one knows how long Major Hochstetter will keep him there."
"Poor baby," Newkirk shot back sarcastically. "At least Hochstetter's not beating him nearly to death." The look on Schultz's face made him immediately contrite. "Sorry, Schultz," he said softly.
Schultz shook his head. "Nein, Newkirk, you are right. It is not right, what he did to Colonel Hogan." He raised one eyebrow, hopefully. "Where is Colonel Hogan?" he asked reluctantly.
"Do you really want to know?" asked Kinch.
"No. I do not want to know," Schultz decided. "I want to know nothing. But... is he... all right?"
"Hardly," Le Beau replied crossly. "Filthy Boche."
"He'll recover, Schultz," put in Kinch. "But it's going to take a long time. Hochstetter was sure he could do whatever he wanted to and not have anyone to answer to for it, since he was going to kill the Colonel anyway."
Schultz shuddered. "I did not know anything about that, boys. Honestly!"
"We know ya didn't, Schultz," Carter answered.
"And now Major Hochstetter thinks Kommandant Klink helped Colonel Hogan to escape, and he is going to bring him to trial."
"A fair trial, Schultz?" asked Carter.
"There's no such thing when the Gestapo's involved, Carter," Kinch interjected.
"When's this happening, Schultz?" asked Newkirk.
"The Major did not say. But he has been given full approval by General Burkhalter to prepare for trial as necessary. Major Hochstetter says that should take about two days."
"That's not much time," Kinch said.
"Oui, considering Klink's perfect record here you would think there would be more to look at than the Colonel's disappearance," Le Beau added, putting eggs onto some plates for the men.
"That does not matter to Major Hochstetter," Schultz said, shaking his head. "Colonel Hogan got out of a locked cell, with a guard at the door. I am afraid it is all my fault."
"You're not to blame, Schultzie," Newkirk protested sincerely.
"Yeah, you didn't have anything to do with Kinch and Newkirk going in through the—"
"Carter!" cried Le Beau, Kinch, and Newkirk almost as one.
"The Kommandant told me to get clothes for Colonel Hogan before I called out the dogs. I should have said nothing."
Le Beau asked quietly, "Why did he do that, Schultz?"
Schultz answered, "I think it is because he felt bad about how Colonel Hogan was being treated, and he wanted to give him a chance to get away from Major Hochstetter. So now, Major Hochstetter has the Kommandant instead."
"It's a sticky wicket, all right," Newkirk agreed. "But it still doesn't make up for what happened to the Colonel."
"In this, Englander, we will have to agree to disagree. The way I see it, the Kommandant has traded for Colonel Hogan's life, with his own."
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Le Beau paced the floor later that morning, unable to forget the conversation with Schultz. The idea appalled him—to think that some lousy, cowardly German officer had actually taken his own life in his hands in order to save Colonel Hogan was impossible. And yet they had all heard Klink telling Schultz quite clearly to delay calling out the dogs to search for him. Probably to give Colonel Hogan more of a lead—it is more of a sport that way, he thought bitterly.
Carter walked in on Louis as he trampled through Hogan's empty office. "Whatcha doing, Louis?" he asked.
"Thinking."
Carter ambled in and sat on Hogan's lower bunk. "Yeah. There's sure a lot to think about. I mean, who'd have thought that Klink would show so much backbone?"
Le Beau stopped and turned to the American. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, Klink didn't know about the tunnels. He had to think the Colonel was outside the fence somewhere. But he waited before calling out the dogs."
"So?" Le Beau answered, unwilling to accept that Klink was on a mercy mission.
"So, I mean, how many times have we seen Klink cave in because he was afraid of the Gestapo?"
"Everyone in his right mind is afraid of the Gestapo."
"Yeah, but with Hochstetter here, Klink still waited. He thought he was giving Colonel Hogan time to get away." Carter shrugged. "And look where it got him. I mean, he may not be one of us, you know, but he's sure at least partly human."
"Maybe partly. But if he had spoken up sooner, mon Colonel would not be suffering so much right now."
"No," agreed Carter. "Maybe he'd just be dead."
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"That's good, Colonel. No more now, you need to have a rest." Wilson drew the cup away from Hogan's dry lips and eased his patient back down onto the cot.
"Hot," whispered Hogan, already sweating and exhausted by the mere act of being propped up for thirty seconds and swallowing.
"You still have a fever. That's why drinking water is so important." Wilson wrung out a wet cloth and ran it gingerly over Hogan's abused face and neck. "You just do as I say and you'll be up and about before you know it."
"Gotta find out... what's... going on..."
"Not right now, Colonel; you're off the clock. What you have to do right now is heal." Wilson moved the blanket down to check Hogan's dressings.
"Germans everywhere?—uhhn," Hogan cut off, as a feather-light probe of his abdomen sent fireworks racing through his body.
"What do you expect in Germany?" Wilson quipped, trying to keep Hogan's mind off of the assessment. He reached for Hogan's right arm. "I don't usually see many mademoiselles around here—though that's not for lack of looking." The pain swelled to excruciating levels as Wilson's examination turned to Hogan's wrist and hand. They were still badly swollen and tender to the touch, even through the thick dressing and the splint. Hogan's muted groans became shrill, anguished cries as the medic checked the roughly broken fingers. Wilson could only imagine the pain. How did he bear this being done to him? "Sorry," he said sincerely, pausing in his work to give Hogan a brief respite. Sorry. "This hand is going to be bad for quite awhile, I'm afraid."
Hogan lay panting, his eyes closed as sudden images of his imprisonment came rushing through his mind. Wilson mercifully concluded his work quickly, and covered Hogan again with the blanket. "You're doing better, Colonel, but you still have a long way to go. No late-night frolicking with the frauleins for a little while longer, okay?"
Hogan's mind was already drifting in its struggle to endure. "Only with... Donna Marie," he mumbled incoherently. Then he faded back to the comfort of home.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"Very good. Then the trial will be held here the day after tomorrow," Burkhalter said into the phone. Kinch and Carter looked at each other as they sat at the coffee pot, now keeping regular checks on any activity in Klink's office. "And when will Klink's replacement arrive?... Excellent. We will be expecting you."
Kinch unplugged the listening device as Burkhalter hung up the receiver in Klink's office. "Boy, is Klink in trouble," Carter said.
"That's quite an understatement," Kinch observed. "Sounds like Burkhalter's expecting a guilty verdict."
"What else would there be?" asked Newkirk, coming into the room. "Klink's facing the Gestapo—guilty is the only thing they know. Easier to say than 'innocent'."
"This isn't good. If Klink's found guilty and we get a new Kommandant, the whole operation could be in big trouble."
"What do you think it's in now, mate?" replied Newkirk. "We'll just have to see who we get."
"Well, I hope it's someone like Klink," wished Carter aloud. "I mean, he's an enemy, but at least he's been a pretty nice enemy. I mean as nice as enemies can get without actually being allies—"
"Carter, you're dribbling," Newkirk said.
Kinch shook his head. "No, Carter's right. Klink's gone above and beyond the call this time, and it's really cost him—and us. I wish we could think of a way to get him out of this and put him back in place."
"How are you planning to pull off that miracle?" Newkirk asked.
"I don't know. But we'd better start thinking. Otherwise we might have already gone on our last mission."