No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Hogan stood wavering in front of Eichberger's desk, his hand hurting terribly, his eyes stinging from the sweat that had worked its way into them. But Eichberger said nothing for a moment, content to simply look at the man before him.

Finally, the Captain nodded approvingly. "So, you are the great Colonel Hogan," he said. Hogan remained silent. "Hogan the Magician!" he announced, laughing. Hogan frowned slightly but did not take the bait. "I must say, Colonel, you certainly had many people in a state when you disappeared. It appears you did not share your talent as an escape artist with anyone in the camp before you took your leave. Tell me, how did you do it?"

Hogan did not answer. He squirmed uncomfortably in the restraints.

"The handcuffs are bothering you, Colonel," Eichberger observed. "Why do you not just... slip out of them, as you did out of your cell?" He laughed at his own joke. Hogan stopped moving. "Come now, Hogan," Eichberger persisted. "Surely you would have expected us to want to know how you managed to get out?"

Hogan cleared his throat. "Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, US Army Air Corps, serial number 08767—"

Eichberger waved him into silence. "Never mind all that, Hogan. I know all about you. All about your sabotage and all about your best friend, Major Hochstetter." Hogan said nothing. "What I want to know is, why did you come back?"

"Only hotel in town," Hogan answered evenly.

Eichberger laughed loudly. "Ah, Colonel Hogan, you amuse me."

"My life is complete."

"I see what General Burkhalter told me about you was correct," Eichberger said, obviously pleased. "You are indeed an unusual specimen. Even in your precarious situation, you manage to make jokes. Not all men could laugh in the face of a firing squad."

"Is that where I'm heading?" Hogan asked, his emotions still switched off.

Eichberger considered. He stood up and circled around Hogan, toying with him. "You don't know, do you?" he asked. "You are speaking as though it does not matter, but you don't really know what my plans are for you, do you?" Hogan stayed quiet. Eichberger studied Hogan closely, then smiled and faced him. "My name is Franz Eichberger, Colonel Hogan. I am the new camp Kommandant. Or did you not notice that your friend Colonel Klink is not here?"

"He's not my friend."

"Many things have changed since you last graced us with your presence. But you will have plenty of time to learn about that. You will be spending the next thirty days in the cooler. That is, unless you decide to make the walls dissolve," he added, chuckling. "Sergeant Schultz!" he called.

The door opened immediately and Schultz entered, daring an anxious look toward Colonel Hogan while saluting Eichberger. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

"Take Colonel Hogan to the cooler. Do not remove his handcuffs until you have him locked in his cell." Eichberger turned to Hogan to explain. "We will take no chances with you, Colonel. I am not interested in the kind of unpleasant surprise that greeted your old Kommandant when I visit you later—that is, if it was a surprise to him." Resuming his orders, Eichberger said, "Post two guards, Sergeant, and make sure one of them is in constant visual contact with the prisoner. I will come by later to interrogate him myself." Schultz nodded his understanding. "Do not worry, Colonel Hogan, I have no intention of having you executed. There are many more interesting things to be learned by leaving you alive. Sergeant, you may take him."

"Jawohl, Herr Captain."

Eichberger turned away from Hogan as though he had already left the room. Schultz looked at Hogan, still standing unsteadily at the desk, and prompted him to move with a touch of his elbow. Hogan accepted the gesture and turned to leave. They had gotten half way out the door when Hogan appeared to stumble, and he started to fall forward. Schultz caught him around the waist to stop him from hitting the floor, and Hogan grunted in protest at the handling. "I am sorry, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said, helping Hogan to stand upright.

"That's all right, Schultz," Hogan answered tiredly. He took the opportunity he had created to study Eichberger carefully from under the brim of his cap. The man was a block of ice; he was concentrating on the paperwork at his desk, now seemingly oblivious to their presence. Hogan began to wonder what type of man Eichberger was, and reminded himself that this was no Colonel Klink he was dealing with. No; the consequences of a wrong step here would be much harder to avoid. "Just get me out of here."

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Schultz pulled the handcuffs out from between the bars of the cell as Hogan hissed and tried to soothe his throbbing right hand. The American moved to the cot against the opposite wall and sat down wearily. "Thanks, Schultz."

"Colonel Hogan, should I send for Sergeant Wilson?"

"I doubt your new Kommandant would allow that," Hogan answered.

"But you are hurt," Schultz replied.

"If it were up to the Prussian Corporal, Schultz, I'd be dead. Hurt doesn't rate a mention." Hogan leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Most of his behavior in front of the Germans had been an act, but his tiredness after being outside walking for hours, and his discomfort at the rough handling of his still-wounded body, had been real. He had played it up as much as he could for his meeting with Eichberger, but now he was willing to forgo any charade if he could just have some time to recover.

Schultz looked at Hogan sadly. "I was worried, Colonel Hogan. The boys told me you were in very bad shape."

"Do I look like I'm in very good shape?" Hogan retorted without animosity. "Don't forget to get your second guard, Schultz," he reminded the Sergeant. "I'll be in here sleeping. Wake me when Patton shows up, okay?"

And the world around him faded away.

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

A less than delicate touch on his abdomen drove Hogan firmly into awareness. He sat forward with a jerk, swatting randomly at the cause of the discomfort, only to find his arms pushed away. He cleared his head and regarded the intruder. It was Eichberger.

"Major Hochstetter has some very interesting methods of interrogation," the Captain said, as he once again probed Hogan's abdomen. Hogan flinched and pulled away, laying a protective arm gently over his seeping wounds. "I don't think I've seen him outdone by anyone, ever."

Hogan remained quiet. Still unsure about how to handle Eichberger, he had decided that observation was going to tell him a lot more than arguing. And so he listened, leaving the Captain to fill the silences.

Eichberger was sitting next to Hogan on the thin mattress, where the prisoner had fallen asleep upright and not moved. From the light coming in through the small window Hogan guessed it to be at least midday. "You were tired, Colonel Hogan," Eichberger said.

"Haven't had a lot of sleep lately."

"Where have you been sleeping, Colonel Hogan?" Silence. "We both know you must have had refuge somewhere." Nothing. "I wonder what makes a man decide to return to the enemy for respite." Eichberger waited once more, then nodded and said, "I admire you, Colonel Hogan. You are certainly a strong man. But your silence here is not gaining you any advantage. Surely nothing would be lost by answering some very simple questions."

"Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, US Army Air Corps—"

Eichberger laughed. Hogan stopped speaking. "Oh, Colonel, there you go again! I do not wish to hear of common things that are in your prisoner dossier. I am interested in the other parts of your life here. The ones that deal with your alleged activities outside the camp. The ones that distracted Major Hochstetter, and unintentionally saved your life."

Hogan said nothing.

"Very well. I can respect your lack of interest in speaking about such matters to me for the moment. Would you do me the favor, at least, of telling me why you came back to Stalag 13, instead of heading away from Germany?"

Hogan considered for a moment, then said simply, "I couldn't take it any more."

Eichberger cocked his head, interested. "'Take it'?"

"I couldn't survive out there."

"So you thought it would be easier here? That it would be better for you in a prison camp? What about the execution order hanging over your head?"

"A quick death is better than a slow one."

"Where have you been for the past three weeks?"

"In the woods."

"The Gestapo had patrols searching for you everywhere. They were quite thorough."

"Not thorough enough."

"Where did you get food and water?"

"I stole it."

"And these bandages?"

"Them, too."

"What about shelter? The weather has been most fierce."

"I stayed in barns when I could. The owners didn't know I was there."

"You have an answer for everything," Eichberger said. "How did you escape from solitary confinement?" Hogan said nothing. "I see. An answer for everything you want us to believe. Very well, Colonel Hogan. For your information, the Fuhrer's command ordering the execution of officers has been withdrawn. Therefore, I would be lax in my duties as camp Kommandant if I did not look after you. I believe your dressings are old and dirty and therefore not sterile any longer. I will take them off." Hogan stiffened. "Have no fear, Colonel Hogan. When you are released they will be replaced. And I will have Sergeant Schultz get you a new shirt." He crinkled his nose distastefully. "Obviously you have not been near enough water to take a bath, and it would be cruel of me to subject my guards to you like this. You smell distinctly like an American, and that is not something they need to experience."

Hogan did not answer, but steeled himself as Eichberger pushed his arm out of the way and began to tug roughly at his dressings. His mind was already heading back to Connecticut, and Hogan desperately wanted to follow it home.

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Klink had been startled when he first heard sounds behind him coming from the other side of the wall. He had not heard Hogan's men talking about any problems out in camp. Then he heard Hogan's voice, and the scenario all became clear. Hogan had made it back into camp, and now he was facing his punishment for escaping. Schultz's voice had come through in lower, muted sounds for a short time, and then all was silent.

Now, Hogan's closest confidants were huddled near the wall, listening as Eichberger and Hogan tangoed through their brief encounter. They would shake their heads, or gesture when they thought something was particularly impressive, or smile in silent congratulations to Hogan when he managed to sidestep Eichberger's queries. But when they heard the Captain starting to pull Hogan's bandages off, they exchanged angry looks and their movement stopped. Klink heard Le Beau say something under his breath, but though his skill in the French language was fairly advanced, he couldn't understand it. And he was sure he saw tears in Carter's eyes at the first gasp of pain from Hogan's mouth. The muffled noises didn't last long, though, and then they heard Eichberger say something indistinct before the cell door was opened and closed with a clang.

Silence followed, and the men straightened, moving away. "So that is how you know what is going on everywhere?" Klink ventured to ask in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, Colonel, that's how," Kinch answered curtly.

Their faces were stiff with anger as they contemplated what had happened in the cell behind the wall. "Well, at least we know Eichberger's going to honor the withdrawal of the execution order," Carter said hopefully.

"Lovely, so he's just going to make the gov'nor's life miserable," Newkirk said. "Taking his dressings off—Wilson's going to go 'round the bend when he finds out."

"Hey, Schultz is coming!" came a voice from the other end of the tunnel.

"Let's go," Le Beau said. "The pig said he was going to let the Colonel have another shirt. Maybe we can get Schultz to bring him some bandages, too."

Klink followed the men as they worked their way back toward the ladder under the barracks, bewildered at their lack of urgency when a German guard was coming. Kinch motioned for Klink to remain where he was, and his head was just popping out of the bunk and into the hut when the door opened and Schultz appeared. "Hi, Schultz," Kinch said, climbing into the room and banging the bunk back into place.

Schultz spun away and closed his eyes. "Please, Sergeant Kinchloe, I do not want to see any monkey business!"

"We had to see what was happening to the Colonel, Schultz," Le Beau replied. "Besides, you've always known a lot more than you let on to, anyway."

Klink's jaw dropped. Could it be true that Schultz has been privy to all this all along?

"But I do not need to see it!" Schultz protested.

"You need a shirt for the Colonel," Newkirk said. "Any chance you can get Eichberger to let Wilson look him over? Now that the bleedin' filth's taken off the gov'nor's bandages."

Schultz shook his head. "I do not think so. I will try when I bring his clean shirt, but I think not. The Captain seemed quite clear that he wanted Colonel Hogan left alone until his thirty days are completed."

"How is he, Schultz?" asked Carter. "I mean, how is he really?"

Schultz shrugged his big shoulders and accepted the shirt Kinch brought him from Hogan's room. "He is tired. He is probably a little bit sick. He is hurting. I do not know if that is better or worse than he was before, but it is how he is now."

"What's he doing now, Schultz?" asked Kinch.

"I think he is sleeping. But, I do not think he is having good dreams."

"Hard to do when you are in pain," Le Beau muttered angrily. "Filthy Bosche."

"Bring some bandages with you anyway, Schultz. For the Colonel. Okay?" Newkirk urged.

"Ja. I will try." He turned to leave, then sighed and turned back. "You know, I wish we had Kommandant Klink back."

"So do we, Schultz. So do we."

Klink listened silently, suddenly understanding what impact he truly did have on the operation of the camp and the treatment of the prisoners. Hogan evidently had not been exaggerating to appease Klink when he had told the Kommandant that things would have been completely different with another man in charge; it appeared that the men of Stalag 13 could only have hoped to have found someone with Klink's level of compassion for the enemy. Was that a good thing? Klink wondered. His training wanted to think not, since he had been taught a good Luftwaffe officer was to be respected and feared.

But the other part of him believed that respect didn't need fear. Hogan's men don't fear him, he thought, and yet they would put their arm in the fire for him. Surely that is a sign of respect. Maybe I was not such a buffoon as I believed when I first found out about this operation. Klink sank down onto Hogan's cot, trying to think of how to change things back to how they were before Hitler had stuck his nose in everyone's business, and changed their lives forever.