No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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Kinch suddenly shushed the others. "Here it comes," he said. Le Beau and Carter instantly stopped talking and listened. Kinch plugged a cord into the switchboard they had rigged up under the barracks and adjusted his headsets. "Gestapo Headquarters Berlin, Heil Hitler," he said in his gruffest German voice. He glanced at his companions. "Ja, ja, Herr Major. I will put you through to General Lehrer in charge of Special Operations."
Kinch nodded to Carter, who picked a microphone up off the desk and put on a spare pair of headsets that was also patched into the call. "General Lehrer, Heil Hitler!" he barked aggressively. A pause, then: "Ja, Major Hochstetter, I am aware of what is happening at Stalag 13. Did you think I would not be?… Ja, Herr Major, that sounds very important, indeed. You need to make sure your men are concentrated in that area…. Are you suggesting I do not know what is critical to the Fatherland?" Carter asked, his voice rising. Le Beau smirked as Kinch winced at the loudness. "The Fuhrer is interested in the great and noble history of the Third Reich! I will make sure to send experts to camp in the morning…. Ja, Major, experts from the current excavation site at Heuneburg. There is an archaeological dig happening there. It is closer to you than to me, Major—are you not aware of the events occurring right in your area?…. You will await their arrival and their expertise before you let any of your men leave that site, do you understand? No matter what else you might want to assign them to! You are to guard it as if your life depended on it, Hochstetter… and it may!" Le Beau nearly laughed out loud. Kinch elbowed him into silence. "Give my regards to the person responsible for this spectacular find!" A pause. "A prisoner, you say?" Carter chuckled. "Perhaps we should see if we can convert him if we make him a hero of the German people! Heil Hitler!"
Carter ran a finger across his throat and Kinch cut the connection. Carter relaxed and grinned at the others. "Hochstetter's fallen for it. He's going to make sure some of his men and the camp guards stay at the site."
"Great," Le Beau said. "Colonel Hogan will be pleased. I will tell him everything is ready."
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Hogan faced the half dozen men who'd been rescued and brought to the tunnel. "Okay, are you men all clear on what's happening?" he asked them, looking from one to the other. They nodded doubtfully, wanting to appear confident and sure, but not able to. Hogan smiled reassuringly. "You're going out tonight in the dog truck. Don't worry; the dogs are trained specially by the local veterinarian to sound vicious… but they're really pussycats, at least to men in Allied uniforms. You'll come back tomorrow with an Underground agent as experts in Iron Age history. Have you got your notes and your identification papers?"
At that the men nodded and shuffled their papers out of their pockets. "Good," Hogan said. "Which one of you speaks French?"
One of the men, Rhodes, raised his hand hesitantly. "Good. Remember: no English, no matter what. Just do what you've been instructed to do, and it will all be fine." The faces looking back at Hogan seemed anything but convinced. "Look, don't worry," Hogan said with a smile. "We've done this dozens of times. The Krauts won't understand you. All you have to do is act like you know what you're talking about. If you can pull that off, we're halfway home. Leave the rest to us, okay?"
"Okay, Colonel," agreed one of the men. "But… what happens if this doesn't work?"
Hogan shrugged. "Well you can always say you've gotten a stronger education in history while you were here. And a good education never goes to waste."
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The truck carrying the dogs rolled slowly into camp as dusk settled in. Hogan glanced around the compound, casually leaning against the wall of the barracks: two guards patrolling; two at the gate, some up in the towers; Schultz waiting to talk with Schnitzer as usual. For the moment, the others seemed to be out of sight, either at evening mess or down at the other end of the camp, where Hogan had managed to convince Hochstetter they belonged. It wasn't hard, Hogan thought with a grin. Carter must have really run him up the flagpole; Hochstetter practically volunteered to guard the site himself. Two Gestapo soldiers came into view, apparently wandering around the compound, peering into shadows and corners whenever the mood struck them. Hogan grimaced. The regulars he could handle; he was more worried about the random strollers, who could ruin their plan. He ducked his head back into the barracks and called for Newkirk and Carter.
The pair instantly appeared. "Yes, sir?"
Hogan nodded discreetly toward the soldiers, who were just starting to head toward the dog pens. "See if you can't find something else to occupy those two, will you?" he requested.
"Absolutely, gov'nor," Newkirk answered.
Hogan nodded once and then headed for the Schultz. "How you going, Schultz?" Hogan asked, smiling as he approached the guard, thumbs stuffed into the top of his pockets.
Schultz shook his head as Hogan appeared. "Colonel Hogan, you know you are not supposed to be here when the dogs are being changed. It is against regulations."
"Aw, come on, Schultz, I just wanted to have a chat with you before we're confined to barracks tomorrow. You know Klink said we're going to have to have an inside day while the site's being checked out," Hogan said. He glanced over his shoulder to make contact with the veterinarian, Oskar Schnitzer. The old man just nodded and pulled a dog out of the truck. Hogan turned back to the guard. "It's not fair, you know—we're the ones who found it. We should be able to have a look!" He paused, then said in a low voice, "So what's really going on tomorrow anyway, Schultz? Klink wouldn't say anything at roll call, and I know there's more to it than he's saying."
Schultz put a finger up to his lips and shook his head. "That I cannot say, Colonel Hogan," he said.
"Oh, come on, Schultz, somebody important must be coming," Hogan pressed, looking toward the dog pen out of the corner of his eye. He saw one of the kennels raised up, and a man he did not recognize disappearing down into the tunnel below it. He turned back. "Hochstetter wouldn't still be here just because there are some vases being dug up in camp."
"That is true," Schultz conceded. "But he might be here because he is worried about prisoners escaping—and that's what the Englander was trying to do when those pieces of pottery were discovered: escape."
"Aw, Schultz, you never tell me anything!" Hogan whined. One more glance; Le Beau was beckoning to a man who was hesitant about running from the truck into the dog pen. "What does a guy have to do to get a little information around here? Our Red Cross packages are way overdue, Schultz, and we're bored. Bored men with nothing to look forward to but the slim bits of gossip that filter through in our blacked-out letters from home. Come on, Schultz," Hogan wheedled, "help make our life here just a little more exciting."
Schultz stopped for a moment to consider. Just as he appeared to be ready to talk, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the dog truck. Hogan immediately tried to turn the portly Sergeant back around, but was finding it difficult. He looked up to see Kinch's face disappearing under the fast-lowering kennel, and Schnitzer came back to the truck with one of the dogs being exchanged, without looking up. "I cannot tell you," Schultz said. "It would be worth my life. Major Hochstetter has left explicit instructions for the prisoners to be kept away from the visitors—especially you, Colonel Hogan."
"Ah, so it is someone important," Hogan pounced happily. "When's he coming, Schultz?"
"In the morning," Schultz answered before he could stop himself. "Please, Colonel Hogan, no more!"
Hogan was about to protest again when loud, angry voices floated toward them from further inside the compound. It's about time, he thought, relieved. The shouting and cheering made Schultz do an about-face and head slowly toward the ruckus. "You'd better find out what that's all about, Schultz," Hogan encouraged him. "Wouldn't do to have fighting in camp with the Gestapo around."
Schultz moved a little more quickly now as the voices filtered across to them. "What did you think I was gonna tell you for?"
Newkirk, Hogan realized.
"Well, gee, it's the least you could have done—I thought we were friends! And you were gonna escape and not tell any of us about it!"
Carter.
Hogan and Schultz moved in closer to the fray, finally seeing a crowd of prisoners and more than just the two Gestapo guards trying to stop it.
"If I had told you about it, the whole bleedin' camp would have found out, in about two minutes flat!"
"Oh, that's a fine thing to say, a fine thing!" Carter shot back. And then the physical scuffle began.
Hogan took the opportunity to hang back, and, looking at the dog pen, he saw one of the men that had been hiding in the tunnel for the last two days hopping into Schnitzer's truck. The veterinarian came up behind him and locked the door, then climbed into the truck and headed for the front gate. Hogan looked at the kennel; Le Beau's head was almost out of sight. He paused a second to signal a thumbs-up toward Hogan and then closed the entrance. All was quiet, with not a sign of any creature on two legs having gone in or out. Hogan made a split-second surveillance of the area, then let out a heavy sigh of relief and went to break up the fight. He reached in past guards and gathered prisoners, pulled Carter and Newkirk by their collars and held them apart. "Okay, knock it off, fellas; knock it off!" he shouted.
The pair quieted down almost instantly, each occasionally showing a bit of fight still left in him for good measure. "What's going on here?" Hogan asked harshly.
"Well, gee, Colonel, he was gonna leave camp, and he wasn't even going to say goodbye!" Carter said.
Newkirk struggled against Hogan's hold; Hogan just yanked on his collar and held firm. "I wouldn't tell you anything; you've got a mouth bigger than ol' Scramble Brains himself—"
"All right, all right!" Hogan censured once again. The pair quieted down. "Carter, is that what this is about? Your feelings were hurt?"
Carter calmed down immediately. "Well, yeah," he said humbly. "I would have missed Newkirk if he had made it; at least he could have told me he was going."
Newkirk smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah, well, I guess I should have had more sense in the first place," he said. Then, looking toward the guards who were still standing threateningly nearby, he added, "No one ever escapes from Stalag 13. I shouldn't have even tried."
"Now that's more like it," Hogan said approvingly. He let the two of them go. "Now shake hands and go back to the barracks." Carter and Newkirk did as they were told, while Hogan dispersed the crowd, saying, "It's all over now, fellas. There's nothing to see here." The guards looked nonplussed; Hogan ignored them and went to Schultz, who had not moved during the whole incident. "See, Schultz? Men with nothing to live for but the passing excitement of a brawl… I've got to make it more exciting here somehow."
As Hogan walked off toward Barracks Two, Schultz said pleadingly, "Not too exciting, Colonel Hogan, please. I do not like the Russian front."
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Hogan closed the door and gestured for Carter to watch the camp. "They're all out?"
"Oui, Colonel. All of them are gone," Louis answered.
"Good. What about the new ones?"
"Downstairs being processed."
"Excellent. We'll get the Underground to deal with them when we take care of Smallwood. He'll be here in the morning."
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"That's not fair, Kommandant; you know the prisoners are allowed at least one hour's exercise a day according to the Geneva Convention," Hogan said the next morning to Klink, as the German officer once again reminded the men that they would be confined to barracks until further notice.
"And you shall have exercise, my dear Colonel Hogan," Klink said smugly. "Pacing from one room to the next will provide you with plenty of movement." He brought himself up to his full height and added, "And besides, the Geneva Convention also says that we must keep the prisoners safe. And it won't be safe if you leave the barracks starting today; you will be shot."
"That is pretty bad for your health," Hogan admitted. He rocked briefly back and forth on his heels, then sighed and shook his head. "All right, Kommandant, you've got us licked—for now. I still think it's unfair that you're not letting us anywhere near the archaeological site—after all, it's Newkirk that found it."
"Corporal Newkirk is hardly an expert about these matters," Klink retorted dismissively. "Berlin will be sending the proper authorities to look after this issue today. Your help will not be required." He nodded at Schultz. "Dissss-missed."
Klink turned away as the gates to the camp opened and a car rolled in, parking outside his office. Hogan and his men paused as the others slowly went back inside the barracks. Three men disembarked from the vehicle. "That must be Smallwood," Hogan said, nodding toward the man in a civilian suit flanked by two men who were clearly German officers. "I can't wait to get my hands on him."
Schultz came up beside the men and started herding them toward the hut. "Come on now, you heard the Kommandant. Everyone inside. Inside! Raus, raus, raus, raus, raus!"
"Yeah, yeah, we're going, Schultz," Hogan replied, walking slowly inside. Then, under his breath, he added, "I don't think I could stand looking at that traitor for very long anyway."
When Hogan got back inside, he ordered Carter to watch the door. Kinch pulled out the coffee pot in the Colonel's quarters and plugged it in. Hogan leaned back against his bunk while the others pulled in close around the speaker created from the filter.
"Are you sure this is a safe place to talk?" an English voice was saying.
Newkirk felt his temper starting to rise, as a slow burn rose within him. "Bleedin' Benedict Arnold," he seethed.
Hogan quieted him gently and resumed listening. Klink's voice came through loud and clear. "Oh, yes, this is a very safe place, Herr Smallwood, very safe. Not a single prisoner has ever escaped from Stalag 13. Our prisoners are thoroughly cowed here and this camp is quite secure."
Hogan shook his head. Cowed. That word alwaysbothered him—maybe challenged him was a better description. I'll show you who's 'cowed'.
"We can talk immediately about the information you have for us, Herr Smallwood," an unfamiliar voice urged. "There is no reason to delay."
"Ah, but there is," Smallwood replied. "You see I haven't yet decided that I'm giving you the information you want." Hogan's men glanced at each other briefly. "I need to know what is in it for me."
"We could just force it out of you—" began yet another voice.
The man who had urged immediate discussions again spoke. "Nein, nein, Herr Major," he said with a light touch in his voice, "we do not need to use force with our friend Herr Smallwood. We are here to help him understand how important his work is to us, and how we can reward him for such assistance to the war effort. We have many rewards that you may find attractive, Herr Smallwood."
"I would expect that, Colonel Stigler," Smallwood responded to the unknown man.
"But first it would be very nice if we had some, oh, shall we say, small sampling of what this project you claim to be so important… is. After all, we are taking you at your word that you have something we want. It is only polite to explain yourself, at least in a small way, before we put forth our side of the bargain."
"Very well," Smallwood agreed.
Hogan stepped forward toward the coffee pot, his face grim. His men parted from their close formation, clearly seeing the anger in their commanding officer's eyes. Hogan sat down, staring straight ahead as he listened, picturing the scene in his mind.
"The project is called Colossus," Smallwood began. Hogan glanced at Kinch, who nodded. London had been right; he was going to sell out the biggest secret of the war. Hogan's face paled. "It works electronically, and can scan coded messages very, very quickly."
"Is that so?" Stigler's voice sounded quietly fascinated. "Please, go on."
"The machine will use valve circuits and thyratron rings," Smallwood continued.
Hogan's hands balled into fists. "He's doing it, all right. He's selling us out."
"Let me go over there, Colonel," Newkirk pleaded, clearly overwhelmed by the events as well. "I can get him to shut his mouth. Just let me get in one good punch—"
"Never mind, Newkirk; we'll get him our own way," Hogan said, irritated, but not at the Corporal.
The door to the office suddenly opened, and Carter's head popped in. "The truck from Heuneburg's just pulled in, Colonel."
Hogan nodded and raised a hand for silence.
"That is enough for now," Smallwood was saying. "You see, I know I am quite safe. You may be able to force the information out of me, but none of your scientists would know what to do with it. You need my expertise. And for that, you will pay dearly."
A knock on the Kommandant's office door. "Come!"
"Herr Kommandant." Schultz. "Some men are here from Berlin. They are speaking in French, and we cannot understand them. But they are carrying papers signed by a General Lehrer that say they are here to look at the place the Englander found yesterday."
"What is this?" Smallwood asked, suspicious. "I thought this was to be amongst us alone—no pressure from Berlin!"
"No, no, Herr Smallwood, no pressure," Stigler assured him smoothly. Then, more harshly, "Klink, what is this?"
Klink laughed lightly. "Ah, nothing to worry about Oberst Stigler," he said. "These men are here to examine a possible Iron Age settlement that was discovered yesterday right inside this camp! Herr Smallwood, I assure you, they could not have less interest in what you have to say here."
Hogan shook his head. "Well I'm still pretty curious. Carter, how's it look?"
"All the fellas are here, Colonel. They got through the gate with no trouble. The Underground agent from the Heuneburg site is with them."
"Iron Age settlement?" Smallwood's voice came through the speaker. "You have an archaeological site here?" He sounded intrigued.
"Yes, that's right, Herr Smallwood," Klink replied proudly.
"Supplied by the prisoners," Le Beau put in.
Hogan shushed him, engrossed in the conversation.
"I—I have always found archaeology fascinating," Smallwood continued. "Colonel Stigler, do you think I might be able to have a look in myself?"
"I'll make sure that you do!" Hogan answered from his office. "This couldn't have been better if we'd planned it!"
"Of course, of course!" Stigler replied graciously. "Whatever you like! You see, Herr Smallwood, we are here to make you happy. And if we make you happy—"
"Then I will gladly make your superiors happy as well," Smallwood finished. "But I have said enough for now. I want to have a look at this site."
Hogan unplugged the coffee pot. "So do I."
"Colonel Hogan, that traitor is going to tell les Boches everything!" Le Beau burst.
Hogan stood up, clearly plotting. "Not… if we get to him first. And I think this Iron Age history we've created might be able to help us in more ways than one."
