Chapter 5
Hogan opened the door and walked into the reception area of the Kommandant's office. A guard was sitting just inside the door, holding his rifle with the butt down between his knees with both hands. He looked over at Hogan as he entered the room – his gaze neither welcoming nor particularly friendly.
Helga was sitting at her desk, busily pounding away at the typewriter. She glanced up when she heard the door open, but did not stop her typing. Hogan walked over and stood beside her desk.
"Good morning, Helga," he said. "Is Klink in his office?"
Helga glared at Hogan as she typed. "Colonel Klink is busy at the moment, Colonel Hogan," she replied frostily.
"I see the Kommandant is keeping you busy," he prompted.
She looked up at him sharply, but kept typing.
Hogan leaned forward and smiled his best roguish smile. "We could find something more entertaining to keep us busy later," he whispered.
Helga's eyes widened in alarm and she quickly reached out and slapped Hogan on the side of the face with all her might. A surprised Hogan staggered backwards a step as Helga rose from her chair.
"How dare you even suggest that, Colonel Hogan?" she exclaimed. She glared indignantly at Hogan as he reached up to rub his sore cheek.
"But Helga …" Hogan stammered.
"To think that I would even consider fraternizing with a lowly prisoner," she said.
Hogan could hear the disgust in her voice when she said the last word. What is she talking about? Just last week Schultz let us use the back seat of Klink's staff car for a little rendezvous. Hogan stared back at the blonde woman. She was glaring back at him with unbridled anger in her eyes.
Hogan continued to rub his cheek. Damn, that hurts. He decided that since Helga didn't want to give him the time of day, he would just go and talk to Klink about volunteering for the woodcutting detail. "I'll just go and see Klink now," he mumbled.
He had taken a couple steps towards the office door when he heard a shuffle and the unmistakable click of a rifle being readied for firing. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to see the guard aiming his rifle.
"Colonel Hogan, I told you that the Kommandant is busy," she said icily. "You will not disturb him."
"But I need to talk to him about camp business," Hogan protested.
"I will send Sergeant Schultz for you when the Kommandant is ready to see you," she replied.
Before Hogan could protest further, the sweet sound of a single violin emerged from inside the Kommandant's office. Hogan was not very familiar with classical music, but he did recognize the sounds as being played by very competent hands.
"I thought you said the Kommandant was busy," Hogan stated. "Why is he listening to phonograph recordings?"
Helga sighed in annoyance. "As you very well know, the Kommandant practices his violin every day at this time," she replied huffily.
"That's Klink playing?" Hogan asked. "You've got to be kidding me. He has never sounded like that!"
Helga's anger turned to surprise. "What are you talking about, Colonel Hogan?" she asked. "You know he is a very good musician."
"Klink?" Hogan asked. "A good musician?"
"Yes, Colonel Hogan," she replied. "He's a virtuoso on the violin." She smiled dreamily. "It is one of the perks of this job that I get to sit out here and listen to him practice. This particular piece is one of my favorite Bach sonatas."
"Klink, a good musician?" Hogan repeated, unable to believe it.
Helga was getting impatient. "Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant cannot be disturbed now," she said. "I will send Sergeant Schultz to tell you when the Kommandant will see you. Now, I must get back to my work."
She sat back down at her desk and leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes and began swaying slightly in time to the music coming from behind the Kommandant's closed door.
Hogan shook his head and started to leave the office. I can't believe that Klink is playing so beautifully. I've never heard him play anything that didn't sound like a cat in pain! But this – this sounds like he should be soloing in Carnegie Hall! I suppose next I will find out that Burkhalter is an accomplished tenor.
As Hogan walked across the compound to the barracks, he looked around the camp. I just don't get it. The camp looks exactly the same as it did five nights ago when Carter and I left. But the people in this camp are all acting very different. I could've believed that this was a trick by Hochstetter and Klink to try to trap me into admitting something, but I can't believe that they could involve my own men. I don't even believe that they could force Schultz to play his part so well! And why don't the men recognize Carter? How can they think he's a new man in the camp? That doesn't make any sense at all. The information that Carter found out while I was in the cooler is disturbing as well – no tunnels, no escapes, and eagle eye Schultz?
As Hogan neared the barracks, he came to a conclusion. This has got to be a dream – a crazy, mixed up dream. He reached down and pinched the back of his hand – it hurt. Okay, so it's a crazy, mixed up realistic dream!
Hogan entered the barracks and found his men all lounging in their bunks.
"How'd it go, Colonel?" Carter asked.
"It didn't," Hogan replied. "Klink is busy and I will be sent for when his majesty desires to see me." The sarcastic tone in Hogan's voice was not lost on his men.
"I'm surprised you even wasted your time going over there," Newkirk said. "After all, you know we have to go through Sergeant Schultz whenever we want to talk to the Kommandant."
Since when, Hogan thought. "I guess with everything going on, I forgot," he said aloud. "I'm going to lie down for a while. Let me know when Schultz comes for me."
He didn't wait for acknowledgement from his men before heading to his room.
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The last thing that Robert Hogan wanted to do was to fall asleep. Therefore, he was a bit disoriented when the knock on his door woke him up. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. The knock sounded again.
"Yeah, what is it?" he asked sleepily.
The door opened and Newkirk walked into the room. "Sergeant Schultz is here, Colonel," he said.
"Thanks, Newkirk," Hogan replied. "I'll be right out."
Newkirk closed the door as Hogan jumped from the top bunk where he was sleeping. He grabbed his hat and coat and walked over to the locker that served as his closet. He opened the door and looked into the small mirror that he kept hanging inside. Funny, I don't look any different, he thought. No, I don't look any different. I don't feel any different. Carter isn't any different. He smoothed his hair back and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinch – They don't look any different. Klink and Schultz – even Hochstetter – don't look any different. The camp doesn't look any different – so what is different? He looked at his reflection gazing back at him.
What is different, indeed! He snorted at his reflection. What isn't different? Klink is tough and can't be manipulated, Schultz doesn't miss a thing, and Hochstetter is Papa Bear for Pete's sake! The operation we ran from this camp seems to have never existed. Carter never seems to have been in this camp before now. It's like I've died and gone to hell. The reflection in the mirror smiled at him as if it agreed with that prognosis.
He put on his hat and shrugged on his jacket as he walked from his room into the barracks. He saw Sergeant Schultz standing impatiently by the door. Beside him stood a nervous-looking Carter.
"Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant does not like to be kept waiting," Schultz said.
"He'll get over it, Schultz," Hogan replied. Seeing the angry glare from the German, he quickly amended, "Sergeant Schultz."
Schultz smiled grimly. "Yes, he will get over it, Colonel Hogan," he said slowly. "But you and the new prisoner Carter may not get over it so easily."
"Carter?" Hogan asked. "What's he got to do with anything?"
"Apparently, the Kommandant thinks I know something," Carter said with a wry smile. He paused, expecting a sarcastic comment from Newkirk – as there would have been before he found himself in this mixed up version of Stalag 13. When it was apparent that none was forthcoming, Carter continued, "He wants to continue questioning me."
"What does Klink expect to learn from Carter, Sergeant Schultz?" Hogan asked.
"I do not question the Kommandant," Schultz replied. "And I also do not keep the Kommandant waiting. Now you and Sergeant Carter will follow me." With that, Schultz turned and strode towards the door.
Hogan looked at Carter and shrugged. He didn't know what Klink expected to find out either. "Name, rank and serial number, Carter," he said. Carter nodded.
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Hogan and Carter followed Schultz across the compound and into the Kommandant's office. When they passed by, Helga gave Schultz a warm smile and a greeting, but glared angrily at Hogan when he greeted her. I'm not sure I like this, he thought. Helga has always been friendly – overly friendly – with me. And now, she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Maybe I really have died and gone to hell.
When they entered the Kommandant's private office, Schultz saluted and announced that the prisoners were delivered as ordered. Klink motioned the two Americans to stand in front of his desk and motioned for Schultz to remain. He picked up his riding crop and came around the desk to stand in front of Carter.
"So, Sergeant," he said, slapping the riding crop repeatedly in his hand. "You have had several days to become accustomed to this camp. Now maybe you will remember some information." He paused, waiting for any reaction from the American sergeant.
"Kommandant," Hogan prompted.
Klink quickly pointed the riding crop in Hogan's direction. "Colonel Hogan, I have not given you permission to speak!" Klink bellowed. "You will be silent, or I will not allow you the courtesy of being present during the questioning. Do you understand?"
"I understand that the Geneva Convention allows for the presence of the senior officer during questioning by the Kommandant," Hogan replied curtly.
"How nice for you to understand that," Klink retorted. "It is too bad we are not in Geneva. Now you will remain silent."
Hogan bit back a nasty reply and simply nodded his compliance.
Klink returned his attention to Carter. "Now, Sergeant," he purred. "Maybe you would like to tell me what unit you were with and where you were stationed."
Carter swallowed nervously and snapped to attention. "Sir," he rasped. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Sir! Carter, Andrew J., Sergeant, United States Army Air Corps."
Klink waved him to silence with his riding crop. "Come now, Sergeant," he replied with a tight smile. "Surely you can remember more than your name and what branch of the service you were in. What about your objective when you were shot down?"
Carter swallowed again. "Carter, Andrew J., Sergeant," he said nervously.
Klink again waved him to silence. "Very well, Sergeant," Klink said. "I have the luxury of being patient – for now. I will give you more time to try to remember." Klink turned to Schultz. "Sergeant Schultz, this man will spend the night in the cooler where he will be given enough quiet time to regain his memory."
Schultz snapped to attention and saluted his superior. "Jawohl, Kommandant," he snapped. Schultz stepped forward and began to guide Carter out of the office.
"I must protest, Kommandant!" Hogan cried out. "You're punishing the man for giving you the only information he's required to give under the Geneva Convention."
Klink glared at Hogan. "Ah yes," he said. "The pesky Geneva Convention again. I am getting tired of hearing about it." He smiled at the American colonel. "Maybe you would like to spend the night in the cooler to reflect on the fact that, since I did not sign the Geneva Convention, I do not care one bit about its contents."
Colonel Hogan could not believe his ears. He was used to watching Klink shiver at the mention of the Geneva Convention. "You're blatantly disregarding the Geneva Convention?" he asked.
"I am doing whatever I need to do to maintain the discipline of this camp," Klink said matter-of-factly. "And now I am getting tired of discussing it – so if I hear one more word about it, Sergeant Schultz will be escorting you to the cooler as well."
Hogan opened his mouth to reply and quickly closed it. He realized that anything he said would antagonize the Kommandant. The main purpose of talking to Klink was to volunteer for the woodcutting detail he needed to scout his possible escape and he dared not put that into jeopardy. He remained silent, glaring at Klink.
"A very wise choice," Klink said, acknowledging Hogan's silence. He motioned to Schultz to take Carter away. When the pair had left the room, Klink returned to his chair and took a seat behind his desk. "And now, Colonel Hogan, Fräulein Helga informed me that you wished to talk to me," he said.
Hogan nodded. "Yes, Kommandant," Hogan replied. "I'd like to volunteer my men for a woodcutting detail to replenish our supply of firewood for the barracks. We're getting low."
Klink nodded his head slightly. "Yes, the supply for the guards' quarters is also getting low."
"Great!" Hogan commented hopefully. "Your guards can cut theirs at the same time."
Klink began to laugh. "Colonel Hogan, you amuse me," he said.
"How so?" Hogan asked. He couldn't understand what he had said that was so funny.
"Colonel Hogan, I have enough guards to either guard your men or cut firewood for the guards' quarters – not both," Klink replied. "Besides, you know the standard agreement for these woodcutting details. Your men will cut the wood, and you will keep half of it for your barracks."
"Half?" Hogan gasped. "We do all the work while your guards sit around doing nothing and we only get half the wood?"
Klink shrugged. "If you wish to have any wood for your barracks, that is the offer," he replied. "I will be happy to simply send some guards out to chop wood for our own use."
"You'd allow us to freeze in our barracks?" Hogan asked
"I trust you are not going to mention that pesky Geneva thing again," Klink cautioned.
Hogan shook his head slowly. "No, Kommandant," he replied. "It's just that …"
"I know, Colonel," Klink interjected. "You do not wish your men to be cold. You can have your wood – half of what you and your men cut – or you can go without. The choice is yours."
Hogan stared at the man sitting in the chair before him. I can't believe that I am not able to talk Klink into doing this on my terms. This is something that I can't tolerate. Whatever it takes, I need to help Hochstetter get this man out of camp! That thought shook Hogan like an earthquake. For the first time, Hogan actually conceded that Major Hochstetter was on his side.
"We accept your terms, Kommandant," Hogan said with a sigh.
"Of course you do," Klink gloated. "After all, what choice do you have?"
Hogan glared at Klink. The Kommandant had the upper hand in this camp and he knew it. The man's actions reminded Hogan of the confidence of a schoolyard bully – bigger than all of the other kids and confident that nobody would dare stand up to him. Well, Kommandant Bully, you're in for a big surprise. I never tolerated the bullies when I was growing up, and I'm not about to start tolerating you now. He remained silent, keeping his hostility in check.
"Have your men ready tomorrow morning," Klink continued. "You will leave right after roll call." He paused until he saw a small nod of acknowledgement from Hogan. "And now, you are dismissed."
Klink immediately pulled out some paperwork, ignoring Hogan as if he was no longer present. Hogan stood looking at the Kommandant for a moment, and then turned and left the room. On his way out, Helga did not even look up from her typing to acknowledge his presence.
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Carter had spent the day sitting alone in the cooler cell. Now he lay on the small, hard sleeping surface that did little to make him comfortable enough to sleep. He did have to give the Kommandant credit – spending the time in the cooler had given him time to think. But he had no intention of telling Klink anything useful. No matter how many times the Kommandant would question him, he vowed to maintain silence and only recite his name, rank and serial number.
In the mean time, he had been thinking about his current predicament. There was a lot that he did not understand – how could he leave the camp one evening and return to a different camp a few hours later? Nothing made sense – nothing was the same.
Ever since coming back to this changed Stalag 13, Carter had been observing. He noticed the changed demeanor of both the prisoners and the German captors. The Germans were confident and exuded an air of superiority. The prisoners were walking around with a sense of acceptance, as if they knew they were stuck in the camp until the war was over. Even his barracks mates had changed. Even putting aside the fact that they did not seem to know him, they did not seem to have the same sense of camaraderie amongst themselves as they had before. They were pessimistic in their thinking that Colonel Hogan would find another way to escape from the camp. He couldn't understand how they could doubt the Colonel's resourcefulness, but then realized that in this version of Stalag 13, there was no escape and sabotage operation set up.
But Andrew Carter had no doubts about Colonel Hogan. He knew that if there were a way to make sense of this, Colonel Hogan would find it. And it was his duty to help out in any way he could.
As he lay in the darkened cell, he clasped his hands together and began to pray again. Hello God, it's Andrew again. I know, you are probably surprised to hear from me so soon – and you probably think that I am only talking to you because I am scared of what is going on. Yes, God, I am scared. But I remember what Preacher Everett would always say during his sermons back home – the Lord helps those who help themselves. And when something bad would happen, he would say that God is always testing us and that bad things happen for a reason. I don't know what your reason is for changing everything around on Colonel Hogan and me, but I have faith in your judgment, and know that you would not do this without a very good reason. God, if you are testing us for some reason, I sure wish you could tell me what that reason is. I know you want us to figure out the reason for ourselves. I'm not going to beg and promise that I will devote my life to the church if you get us out of the situation. Pastor Everett always told us that those types of prayers were selfish. I don't want to be selfish, God. I just want things back to the way they were before, when me and my friends were like a big family. All I can promise is that I will continue to be the best person I can, and be strong enough to help Colonel Hogan in any way I can. Carter unclasped his hands and let out a big sigh. He had faith in Colonel Hogan – but what made the situation scarier was that he wasn't sure if Andrew Carter would be of any help.
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Author's NoteJohann Sebastian Bach composed a series of 6 Sonatas and Partitas specifically for the solo violin (BWV1001 – BWV1006). In this story, Klink will be playing these flawlessly – which we all know is something that Klink should not be able to do. Anyway, you can find the music (and even hear audio samples) for these Sonatas by doing a Google search using the keywords "bach solo violin sonata".