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Weaving A Web To Freedom
Book Three: Fliegerabwehrkanonen Spells FLAK
Chapter Nine
Last Minute Rounds
The door to Barrack Two opened and Sergeant Wilson walked in with his medical bag. Scanning the room, his eyes landed on his Commanding Officer and he pointed his finger at him saying, "You...," and then pointing at Hogan's quarters added, "...in there." Wilson then proceeded to march into the adjoining room.
Hogan, who had been sitting at the table with his men discussing the plans for the night's activities, did not move.
"Uh, oh Colonel!" Carter gasped.
Newkirk ran his hand over his mouth trying to stifle a grin, and then lowering his hand turned serious, and said, "I think he means you, gov'nor."
"Oui, he definitely means you, Colonel." LeBeau said, nodding his head in mock agreement.
Kinch sat with a smirk on his face, watching.
Before Hogan could move, another call came from his quarters.
"COLONEL HOGAN!"
Hogan flinched and scrambled to his feet. Looking at Kinch he said, "If I'm not out of there in 20 minutes, come and get me!"
Before Hogan could make it to the door, Wilson had taken up sentinel in the doorway with his arms folded impatiently across his chest.
As the CO reached the door, Wilson stepped out allowing Hogan to enter and, following closely behind, shut the door. Hogan's men took this as their cue to stand guard outside the door...and listen. There was no way they were going to miss this!
"Wilson, I…." Hogan began and was stopped.
"Hold it," Wilson interrupted. "I am not talking to you as Sergeant to Colonel. I am talking to you as doctor to patient." Wilson stared intently at Hogan as he continued, "The next time you're placed in my care, you leave me no choice but to handcuff you to the bed! You were not released. Now, unbutton your shirt and sit down on that stool!"
Hogan stopped for a minute taking in what he had just been told, then stiffening with consternation he started to speak. "You…"
Wilson held up his hand in a stop gesture, "I have the authority to get this done. But, in addition, the Kommandant visited me personally. I lied and told him I released you. I won't falsify medical records so lets get this done."
Wilson had the authority to check a soldier's health at any time, if he had the medical evidence to back it up, and it was not interfering with active combat. Hogan, deciding Wilson may have the upper hand in this instance, took a seat and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Wilson stepped up, placed a thermometer in Hogan's mouth and the stethoscope on his chest, causing the Colonel to involuntarily pull back as the cold instrument came in contact with his skin. The medic placed his hand on the Colonel's shoulder to prevent him from pulling away again, and made contact with the stethoscope once more.
Thoughts of Hohemark hospital where he had undergone testing at the hands of the Nazis involuntarily invaded his thoughts. Stop, it's over…or is it. Hogan's pulse quickened.
"Take a deep breath." Wilson's voice echoed in his ears.
Hogan breathed in carefully, but not too deeply.
"I said a deep breath!" The medic demanded. The concentration was evident on Wilson's face, as he strained to listen to Hogan's breath sounds.
Breathing deeper, Hogan quickly grabbed the thermometer out of his mouth and began coughing.
Wilson moved the stethoscope down and said, "Again!"
Hogan looked incredulously at the medic as he tried to catch his breath. Wilson showed no pity, and while he was content to wait for the coughing to subside, he did not deviate from the order to breathe deeply, as he meticulously listened to each lobe in each lung. When he had finished, he took the thermometer and replaced it in his patient's mouth while grabbing Hogan's wrist to count his pulse. A little fast the medic thought."Relax," he jibed, after which he checked the thermometer. "Normal."
"Wilson," Hogan stopped to clear his throat and began again. "…Um, Joe, I appreciate your concern, but…"
Wilson continued his exam. Raising Hogan's chin he examined his eyes, which interrupted his CO's train of thought.
Without thinking, Hogan reached up to gently push Wilson's hand away and take back control of the situation. But Wilson, out of reflex, executed a successful block of Hogan's hand with his left arm.
"Colonel, I know what you're going to say, and I understand that you have a job to do. I just want to make sure you have every possible advantage to enable you to get that job done."
Stepping back into character, Wilson held up his index finger in front of Hogan's face and said, "Without moving your head, follow my finger with your eyes."
Hogan stared at Wilson, with a "you've got to be kidding me" look.
"Humor me!" Wilson answered.
Following this maneuver, Wilson moved to Hogan's left side to examine a minor gash on his head he had treated that had resulted from falling debris during the Colonel's rescue of Hochstetter. Hogan attempted to duck away. Wilson followed the dodge.
"Colonel, you have been through a lot since your capture. Your apprehensions are understandable, but they are not justified here. Your health is my business and I won't let you down. Even if I have to fight you every inch of the way. Remember, my life depends on you being at your best too."
"That being said," Wilson pulled up a second sitting stool and sat facing Hogan, "here's my report, sir."
"Your lungs are irritated from the smoke. They're going to be extra sensitive to cold and any other irritant you breathe, but that will gradually get better. The best thing for you to do would be to rest and let them heal, but I know that isn't going to happen. Just be aware that over exertion could cause you to get short of breath, and may cause you to have another coughing fit…at an inappropriate time. So if you're going to be sneaking around, do it slowly. As far as your head injury goes, aside from a headache, you should have no other side effects."
Wilson sat back and crossed his arms. "The next time I won't wait this long for you to come back."
Hogan relaxed and dropping his gaze sighed. "I know…it's …it's hard to separate…"
"I wouldn't want to try to imagine what it was like for you, Colonel. But don't worry, your misdirected anger won't stop me." Smiling, Joe stood and gathered his things.
"When you decide you want to start working through some of that fury you've bottled up inside, let me know." Heading for the door Wilson added, "I'll let you get back to business. Stop by and see me in a few days if you're still feeling winded."
Hearing the medic approaching the door, Hogan's men rushed back to their seats.
"Joe…thanks for not asking any questions about Hohemark." Hogan rose, and assumed his air of command.
"No thanks necessary, Colonel!
Wilson exited Hogan's room and made his way across the common room under watchful eyes.
"Thanks for stopping by, Wilson," Kinch said.
"Oui," Louis added.
Newkirk nodded and Carter smiled his agreement.
Reaching the door Wilson turned to Kinch, "I want to talk later in private." Closing the door he headed back to the infirmary deep in thought.
Your instincts for self-preservation are strong, Colonel. If you were a weaker man, you'd be in a straight jacket by now. But if we live through this war, someday, when those demons you're experiencing are no longer tangible you're going to have to face them, and I hope somebody is there to help when you do.
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Captain Voss, alias Daniel, slipped out of his apartment and made his way to Frankel's barbershop. He was going undercover again but only his immediate superior, Major Hochstetter, knew. Word had been received from the Underground that they would bring him in. He was told to get a haircut and then walk out and stand on the street corner across from Frankel's. Now he stood and waited. He was working without a net, so to speak, no back up now that Hochstetter was confined to the hospital.
How crazy is this? Waiting to be picked up by the Underground! Gar Voss thought, trying to look nonchalant and not draw attention to himself. He was the oldest of three sons. His brother, Peter, was the second oldest and a Captain in the Luftwaffe. The two brothers competed at everything. The current competition was who would make Major first. If I can pull this off, I'll win this little wager, younger brother! And I possibly will even be decorated by the Fuhrer! Gar was abruptly jarred out of his day dream, as somebody bumped into him. "Umpf!" he groaned, while trying to maintain his balance.
"Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going," the man said, after bumping into Voss. The passerby bent down to pick a notebook up off the sidewalk. "I believe you dropped this!" he said, offering the notebook to the man he knew as "Daniel".
Voss was about to say no, when he recognized Horace and instead answered, "Ja, Danke."
The Underground agent hurriedly nodded and disappeared down the street. Voss looked at the notebook in his hand and began leafing through the pages. Coming to a "dog eared" page, he stopped. I guess this is my next stop. A certain amount of exhilaration came with the "hunt". He smiled and moved on to his next destination. One step closer to "Papa Bear", he thought.
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Rolling up the map, Dozier placed it in the footlocker along with the orders to move his Eighty-eights. Stepping outside the tent, he admired his line of cannon's. You are gorgeous my children, and with this new radar, deadly accurate! He thought, as he remembered the plane they downed the night before. How appropriate it dropped on a Luftstalag, to bad it didn't kill a few POW's.
"Corporal, pass the word that we will be moving out in the morning. I want everything packed and ready to move by sun up."
"Jawohl, Mien Oberst!" The Corporal turned sharply to relay the orders.
"Corporal," Dozier called again, causing the young officer to nearly topple in his tracks. "I am going into Hammelburg for dinner and will return later tonight." Dozier smiled wickedly, and then finished buttoning his overcoat before heading for his staff car.
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"Sergeant Wilson," Hogan began as he stepped into the infirmary. "How are your patients doing?"
Wilson looked up surprised. "They're doing well. Their wounds aren't serious, as long as we can keep them free from infection." Looking at Dirk, Wilson winked, saying, "And 'Corporal William Grant', over there, is beginning to get some strength back." The real William Grant, whose identity Dirk had assumed, would hide in the tunnel if it became necessary, but it was unlikely anyone would check, now that Hochstetter was out of the picture.
Hogan stopped at each of the four remaining patient's beds, and spent a few minutes with them.
Lastly he walked up to Dirk, smiling, and kidded, "Didn't anybody ever tell you you're supposed to salute your commanding officer?"
"Is that what they're doing? I thought you just had bad breath!" Dirk laughed.
"Funny!" Hogan grinned and then turned serious, "I won't be back to see you until morning. Is there anything you need?" Hogan asked.
The American Colonel, and his four fellow saboteurs, never told anybody very much about what they were up to, the less who knew the better. Generally, it was Baker and or McLaughlin who were given that information and who would be responsible for ending the operation should it become necessary.
If all goes well, I should have some exciting news to tell Dirk at breakfast. he thought. And if it doesn't… someone else will have some exciting news to tell him at breakfast.
Dirk had a pretty good idea why he wouldn't see Hogan again before morning and answered, "No problem Colonel, I don't need a thing. Just be sure you make it back to see me in the morning." He offered his right hand to Hogan who took it, along with the silent prayer for their safety it conveyed. Nodding, the Colonel turned and walked toward the exit.
So whatever they're doing, they're doing it tonight. The medic watched the back of his CO as he headed out the door.
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"Where is Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked. "The Kommandant wants to see him." Schultz looked around the barrack for the missing officer.
"He's out walking the compound, checking out the damage. What does Klink want?" Newkirk asked.
"He did not tell me. All he said was "Go get Colonel Hogan." Schultz lifted the lid on the pot that was warming on the stove, sniffed, closed his eyes, and moaned as the delectable smell invaded his body.
LeBeau smacked the guard's hands.
"Now see what you made me do," Schultz complained, as he dropped the lid back on the stove.
"Please, save me just a little, Cockroach! It smells so good!" The guard begged, as he turned to leave and continue his search.
LeBeau folded his arms, annoyed, and mumbled, "Oui, oui, I'll save you some."
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Hogan walked through the compound assessing the minor repairs being done to some of the barracks. He had finagled an extra shower and three days of extra potato rations for his men in exchange for their work.
"Hey Colonel!"
Hogan looked up at the men repairing one of the barracks roof.
"Fixing this hole is going to cause a lot of problems," the smiling soldier called out.
Hogan looked up questioningly, trying to imagine how fixing the roof would cause problems.
"Oh yeah, why's that?"
"Well, it will be the only dry spot inside the entire barrack. The guys will be fighting for the bunk under this spot." The young soldier answered, somber faced.
"Maybe you better build in a leak," Hogan answered. "Or better yet, hold a raffle. You'll make a fortune!"
The men laughed.
"See I told you the Colonel would know what to do!" they joked, before getting back to work.
Rounding the corner of one barrack and heading to the next, he saw a second group of men repairing a bowling ball size hole in a side wall of Barrack Seven.
"Anybody hurt when that hit?" Hogan asked.
"Not physically, Colonel, but I think it knocked about five years off of Sergeant Riley's life. He had just run to the door when it crashed through and rolled across his bunk." The freckle faced soldier chuckled.
"Do you know we left this hole open to the outside the rest of the night and couldn't even tell there was a difference in the inside temperature!" Lieutenant Rayburn added, while scratching his head.
"Oh, come on, I don't believe that!" Hogan laughed.
Rayburn smiled, "Okay, you caught me. Maybe it did make it a little warmer inside."
Slapping the younger man on the back, Hogan laughed with him. It was true that sometimes the barracks offered little reprieve from the outside elements.
Completing his rounds, Hogan found a quiet spot in the back of the camp outside of Barrack 15 and sat on a bench to enjoy the silence. There was no one asking what to do next, no anxious eyes waiting for him to perform another miracle, or lead them through another difficult situation. There was just the sound of the trees creaking in the wind, and the occasional flight of a lone bird, soaring in the sky.
"COLONEL HOGAN!" A voice called, reminding him his time was not his own. He was a prisoner whose life was dictated by the whims of his captors.
"Back here Schultz," he answered, wearily.
"What are you doing back here?" Schultz asked, as he lumbered up to the man that had become more than just a prisoner to him. He had become someone whose opinions he respected. He would like to see Hogan one day, return alive to his homeland and his family.
"Just planning my escape, Schultz," Hogan teased. "What can I do for you?"
Schultz stopped short in his tracks and scrutinized the American officer before deciding there was no truth in his comment. "Jolly joke!" the German Sergeant moaned. Stepping closer Schultz added, "The Kommandant wants to see you."
"What does he want? I'm kinda busy." Hogan said as he continued to lean back against the barrack and stare out through the barbed wire fence.
"The Kommandant did not tell me what he wanted. He just said, 'Get Colonel Hogan'!" Schultz mimicked. "But Oberst Dozier is here."
"Dozier?" Hogan thought for a moment. "Is that who was here earlier today?"
"Ja. Come. The Kommandant is waiting." Schultz answered while motioning for Hogan to stand.
Groaning, Hogan stood and answered, "Okay, Schultz. Let's go." Sheesh, what's up, now?