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Hochman smiled coldly and unpinned one of his medals from his uniform. His fingers played with it, while he himself stared absent-mindedly into the room.
Finally, he dropped it onto the table and shoved it towards Hogan.
"Do you see this, Colonel?". Hogan nodded, it was an iron cross, first class, given only for special services to the Fatherland.
Hochman took it back and rolled it between his fingers. "They were quite stubborn, you know. Didn´t want to give me any information at all, in the end however...".
A smile erupted on his face. "The Führer was very happy with me that day and the Underground network around Bremen has never been the same.".
Hogan clenched his fists angrily.
What animal have you become, George? What have the Nazi´s made out of you?
Hochman pinned the medal to his chest again and looked at Hogan.
"The Underground is foolish. It consists of fools, who under the cover of noble thoughts kill soldiers of the Fatherland, blow up bridges and destroy important war machinery. That day I learned a lot from them. Their noble thoughts only suffice for a certain amount of time. Pain, Colonel, pain is the key to everybody´s thoughts, no matter how carefully locked away.".
Hogan tried to look as though these statements could not reach him, however inside him a wild mass of feelings made him uncertain and vulnerable, but still he remained silent, knowing that if he opened his mouth he would show more of himself than he wanted.
Hochman eyed him with a smile in which the cruelty of his words was displayed.
"Some of them were only sixteen, you know, merely children. I wonder why the Underground even let them join, they were not very good at concealing their thoughts I´m afraid.".
Hogan looked at his brother and shook his head once more. "I don´t believe you.". Anger made his voice shake, but the words mattered nothing to Hochman.
"You are still not convinced, Colonel? Then let me tell you the story of Little Rabbit, as he was called in the Underground.".
Hogans face remained straight, but inside him, his feelings screamed for a way out. He himself had been with Little Rabbit, when he died from injuries sustained under intensive interrogation.1 It should have been a rescue mission, but they had been too late. One question however remained. Hogan and his men had found Little Rabbit in Gestapo Headquarters and George was Luftwaffe.
"We picked him up in the woods, late at night. It turned out that he had some explosives with him. I had quite an interesting chat with him, before I turned him over to the Gestapo. Unfortunately he died, before they could question him, sad isn´t it?".
Hogan could not resist any longer. His voice shaking with the fury he felt and his eyes boring into Hochmans he whispered. "Animal.".
He did not get the awaited reaction. Hochman burst into laughter, cruel laughter that made Klink jump in his chair.
"Animal you say? I think you, above all should know what an animal is, as you live in a camp for allied swines?".
Hogan was dumbfounded. All anger was gone, all fear, all hatred only grief was left behind.
So that´s what I am to you now, George? An allied swine? Nothing more?
He felt like a balloon that deflated at the look his brother was giving him.
Hochmans eyes laughed at him, as they saw the hurt look in his eyes.
"Now I told you about Little Rabbit, maybe, Colonel it is time for a chat about a fairy tale?".
Hogan was completely surprised by this. He had awaited more tales of cruelty, more attempts to hurt him.
"Fairy tales?".
Hochman nodded. "I always liked fairy tales, especially the one about Goldilocks and the three bears. My favourite character was Papa Bear.".
This was no coincidence, Hogan knew at once.
He´s toying with me, trying to draw me out, so that I maybe give him some information without realizing it.
Hogans eyes narrowed as he replied: "If you like fairy tales, I´ll draw attention to the fact, that they always end with "and they lived happily ever after".".
Klink looked confused again. What was going on here?
Hochman chuckled. "I always thought that there was something wrong with fairy tales."
Hogan felt the rage flaring up in him again. Trembling, he said. "Do you know what? I know another story. It´s about a painter from Braunau, I believe. Poor chap, absolutely rubbish at everything he tried. Later he became a writer, wrote the most unreadable book ever written and now he´s bossing around other people, creating an image of the perfect man, without realizing he´s exactly the opposite.".
Before Hogan realised what was happening he was struggling for breath as George throttled him with al l his might.
His eyes flaring with anger, he gasped: "You, you American will not insult my Führer!".
Hogan tried desperately to free himself from his brothers iron grip. He struggled for breath as dark spots began to dance before his eyes.
Klink jumped up, gripped Hochman by the shoulders and tried to pull him away from Hogan who was now turning a distinct shade of blue.
"General! Calm down, please!".
Finally, Klink was able to pull him away and guide him to a chair. Hogan breathed heavily, not quite believing what had happened.
He would have killed me, if Klink wouldn´t have acted, he would have killed me.
Klink was walking around the room nervously, not quite knowing what to do. Finally, he said:
"General, I think we are all tired. We should go to bed.".
Hochman nodded, anger still flaring in his eyes.
"Yes, Klink indeed, but Colonel we are not finished yet, this is just the beginning.".
Hogan nodded and opened the door. As he wanted to walk out, Hochman said: "And Hogan, do you believe me now?".
Hogan said nothing and made his way back to Barracks Two, the feeling of someone throttling him not yet gone, the look of anger in Hochmans eyes not yet vanished from his memory.
What has happened to the brother I once knew?
In Barracks Two, LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk were still waiting at the table. Pretending to play cards, they merely awaited Colonel Hogans return.
When he finally came, he was surprised at seeing them there, in the darkness, waiting for him.
"You lot still here? Lights out was one hour ago.".
"We just thought guv´nor that you might needed someone to talk to.".
Hogan nodded absent-mindedly feeling his throat. "We´d better go into my office, there we can put on the light, without drawing too much attention to ourselves."
"Mon Dieu, mon Colonel! Qu´est-ce que c´est ca?".
Hogan raised his eyebrows. "What´s what?".
"There, on your throat, there are red spots all over it!".
"Little difference in opinion between me and George...".
"LITTLE!".
Hogan nodded dismissively. "Yes, little, nothing that should concern any of you. The important thing is, that George himself said that George is dead, obviously meaning that he is no longer the person I knew once.".
Carter hopped on his chair, excited. "So we´re going to blow him up? We are, aren´t we?".
"Or can I poison him? Just a little bit of poison in le diner for tomorrow and...".
Tiredly, Hogan shook his head. The others noticed that he had never before looked so tired and so very old. Lack of sleep and anguish had marked black lines under his eyes and his hands trembled slightly, as he put them together, as if to comfort himself.
"I can´t, I just can´t kill him.". He whispered.
"Mais, mon Colonel, he will kill you!".
Hogan shook his head. "Not only me, LeBeau, he will have all the others, the whole Underground network and he won´t stop, he´ll go on...".
All of them fell silent, while their eyes rested upon their commander. Finally Hogan said: "I- I need to think this through.".
And they moved out of his office, understanding his silent plea to be alone.
Hogan buried his head in his hands. The words of General Hampton echoed in his head: "Don´t let your feelings get in the way".
But aren´t my feelings the only reason why I can still look in the mirror? I can´t choose the easy way out, because it wouldn´t be the easy way for me. There is no longer an easy way.
He stared out of the window into the dark blue night sky. Stars were twinkling at him as if each of them beamed at him.
I wonder George, do you sometimes look at the sky?
He sighed again, grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled on it, not looking at what he was doing. When he looked at the paper again, he saw that he had drawn a picture he hadn´t drawn for ages. It was about the only thing he´d ever been able to draw. It was a small house.
Smiling he added the details that he felt belonged to the house, flowers behind the windows, curtains, trees in the garden. Lost in thought he finished the drawing.
He remembered that he had drawn this house since he was very young, surely as he grew older it had become more detailed, but the structure had remained the same. A door, five windows, a chimney, flowers behind every window, curtains, five bushes in the garden, five trees behind them. A sun directly above it, surrounded by some clouds under which birds came into view and a plane, circling the sun.
He traced the windows with his finger. Five windows, one for each Hogan.
Memories came with the house.
"Come on Rob, lets draw something together for Mum´s birthday. We´ll make a giant painting just we two!".
Six year old Rob Hogan smiled at his older brother. Ten minutes later they were totally absorbed in their task.
Rob drew his house again. A door, five windows...
"Hey Robbie, why does your house always have five windows?".
Rob shrugged. "I dunno. Guess it looks pretty..."
"Wanna see what I drew? Look, it´s the view from my bedroom window, d´you like it?".
Rob nodded. His brother was really good at drawing, he could see the forest, the garden and the fence. The fence?
"George why did you draw a fence there? We don´t have one...".
George shrugged, but did not answer.
Hogan glanced at the night sky once more as he went over the events of the evening.
This was not the first row we had about this subject.
"Why are you staying here, George, why don´t you come with us?", Rob Hogan, now twenty-six cornered his brother in the living room.
"How can you stay here while Hitler is taking over?".
George shrugged. "I told you, Rob. I´m in the army and I won´t resign from my post, I can´t don´t you understand? It´s my duty to the Third Reich, it´s my duty to the Führer!".
"You´re only staying because you´re afraid of what will happen when you leave the army. You are afraid of being accused of deserting the army.".
"I´m not afraid! I respect the Führer, he is right about lots of things!".
Rob Hogan shook his head. "Fear is not respect.".
George said, now angry. "What do you mean by that!".
"I mean, that you´re only afraid of him and of his opinion.".
George snorted. "Me afraid? You´re afraid, you´re running away!".
Rob shook his head. "You will learn the difference between running away and obeying orders blindly soon enough and you´ll discover which of those is more cowardly.".
George laughed a humourless laugh, before he walked out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
He still hasn´t learned.
A tear dripped down Hogans cheek, through his fingers and landed on the paper. It landed in the middle of the third window.
Neither of us can hide now.
1. The whole story is my story called "Shades of Grey"
