Author's note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters. All other characters are my creations. This story follows from the events of Episode 82: Sticky Wicket Newkirk, written by Richard M. Powell.
Accident of War - Part 3
By Diane Maher
At Stalag 13 the next morning, a truck came through the gate and pulled to a stop in front of the administration building. Kinch, Carter and Newkirk watched as a single prisoner wearing an RAF officer's uniform climbed down from the rear of the truck. The guards took him to the Kommandant's office. Kinch and the others went into the barracks to listen to Klink's interrogation of the man. They heard the door open and Schultz's voice boomed over the speaker.
"Herr Kommandant, we have a new prisoner," Schultz began.
Klink looked up from his paperwork long enough to see the new prisoner and reply, "Thank you, Schultz. Wait outside until I call for you."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz replied with a quick salute. He then left the office.
After the door closed behind Schultz, Klink opened his desk drawer, took out a form, picked up a pencil and began, "So. You're the man they captured a few miles from here."
"Yes, I am Wing Commander Clive Blackman of the RAF," the prisoner began. "My serial number is 3957128."
"Where were you stationed?" Klink asked. Blackman was silent.
"Well, Wing Commander, you are the senior POW here at Stalag 13. You will be the liaison between the prisoners and me. Any complaints they have will come through you, is that clear?" Klink asked.
"Yes, sir," Blackman replied.
"Schultz!" Klink barked.
Schultz came back into the office. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant?"
"Take this man to Barracks 2 and see to it that he's situated," Klink ordered.
"Jawohl," Schultz replied.
Over in Barracks 2, Kinch pulled out a blue piece of paper from his pocket and confirmed the name of the officer that he just heard. He muttered to himself, "Looks like we've got a new CO."
"Kinch, what's our equivalent to a wing commander?" Carter asked.
"I think it's the same as a lieutenant colonel," Kinch replied. "Is that right, Newkirk?"
"Right mate," Newkirk replied.
The prisoner left the office and Schultz followed. Schultz directed the man towards Barracks 2.
"I'm Sergeant Hans Schultz," Schultz said.
"Wing Commander Clive Blackman," the dark haired prisoner replied.
"Oh, another Englander," Schultz said. "But your accent is different from Corporal Newkirk's. You'll meet him, he's in Barracks 2."
"Uh huh. Thanks," Blackman said as he opened the door.
Blackman was greeted by utter silence when he entered the barracks. He looked around and several men were playing cards at the table. When he closed the door, he introduced himself. "I'm Wing Commander Blackman of the RAF."
There was a movement off to his left. A black American walked over, saluted and said, "I am Sergeant Kinchloe, sir."
"I'd like a word with you," Blackman said. "Is there somewhere we can speak in private?"
"Sir? There are no bugs in here," Kinch said.
Blackman asked, "Will you update me on the situation here?"
"As soon as you give me your orders, sir," Kinch replied.
Blackman took off his cap, pulled out some folded papers from inside the lining, and handed them to him.
Kinch read the papers. When he was finished, he said, "Thank you, sir. We have no current assignments from headquarters. I'll inform them that you've arrived safely and see what they want us to do."
"Sergeant, I'd like to get to know the rest of the men involved in the organization. I'd also like a tour of the place," Blackman said.
"Yes, sir," Kinch nodded. "Wing Commander Blackman, this is Sergeant Carter, Corporal Newkirk, and Corporal LeBeau."
Blackman shook each man's hands. When Newkirk greeted and saluted him, Blackman commented, "A Cockney, eh?"
"Yes, suh! You sound like you're from the Midlands," Newkirk replied with a grin.
"I'm from Manchester," Blackman acknowledged.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir and welcome aboard," Carter said.
"Carter!" Newkirk exclaimed. "Give it a rest, will you?"
"Are you chaps always so informal?" Blackman asked.
"Yes, sir. If that's all right with you, sir," Carter replied.
Kinch rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and shook his head in amazement.
"If you chaps are used to being informal, don't let me change that. From what I've heard at headquarters, you fellas are quite the team," Blackman said.
"Thank you, sir," Kinch replied.
Kinch headed over toward his bunk, activated the hidden switch that revealed their tunnel, and then said, "Sir, if you'll follow me?"
Blackman followed and once he was at the bottom of the ladder, turned and looked around. He walked over to where Kinch stood and exclaimed, "This is bloody amazing!"
Kinch chuckled and said, "Yes, sir. This way we have our radio room."
Blackman followed and saw the radio room which had wires hung from various pieces of equipment and strung all over the walls and along the floor. With a nod, he followed Kinch to the next location, which was the mint. The next room was full of uniforms from all sorts of German military and civilian services.
"We'll have Newkirk take your measurements sir, so we can get you uniforms made for when we have to infiltrate German installations," Kinch said.
"I'm impressed with this operation," Blackman said.
"Thank you, sir. We worked hard under Colonel Hogan to make this operation what you see," Kinch replied.
"Why was Colonel Hogan transferred?" Blackman asked.
Kinch paused for a moment before quietly replying, "Colonel Hogan was transferred because he was caught outside the fence on his way back from a mission and the Kommandant had reinstated his policy of transfer for any infraction of the rules. Klink just never told us that he'd reinstated it."
Blackman clasped Kinch on the shoulder and said, "By your tone, you sound like Hogan's dead, not just transferred."
Kinch frowned. "Colonel Hogan may really be dead. We heard via our bug in Klink's office that the truck carrying Colonel Hogan never made it to Stalag 7. I contacted headquarters shortly afterwards and found out that there had been a bombing raid on Heidelberg last night."
Blackman frowned. "I see. You and the others will have to let Colonel Hogan go. He's not here and even if he is dead, we still have to continue the operation. People are counting on us to do our duty."
"Yes, sir," Kinch said quietly. "Thanks. Morale has been low since Colonel Hogan left."
Blackman nodded, sensing there was much more to Kinch's loyalty than met the eye. "I expect to receive the same respect and hard work from all of you that you gave to Colonel Hogan."
Kinch smartly saluted and replied, "Yes sir."
After finishing their tour of the underground facilities at Stalag 13, Kinch and Blackman returned to the radio room. "That's the scope of this operation. If you like, I can brief you on our current operational policies after roll call," Kinch said as he glanced at his watch. "It's time for roll call in a few minutes."
"Are all of the prisoners aware of what goes on in Stalag 13?" Blackman asked.
"Yes sir. After we've screened them, we have to explain why they can't escape and return home," Kinch replied. "We don't give them any more information than we have to."
Blackman looked sidelong at Kinch and said, "You didn't screen me."
"We had advance notification from London that you would be arriving, along with a description of you," Kinch replied. "And you had orders."
"None of that is a guarantee. The Jerry could easily find someone who fits my description and send them here in my place with orders. Please keep that in mind," Blackman said.
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.
The next morning, Hogan woke refreshed, though he was stiff from his awkward sleeping position. Looking around the strange room, he forgot where he was for a moment. He then remembered that he was not in Stalag 13 anymore, but instead, was at a safe house somewhere in Mannheim. As he stood, the door opened and a man entered the small room with a tray containing both food and drink.
"Good morning, Colonel. Here's something for you to eat. Can you manage to eat with those handcuffs?" the man asked.
"Yes, but it would be easier if we could get them off or at least separated," Hogan replied. "What do I call you?"
"You can call me Snowman. Short of firing a bullet into the chain, no one here has any way of getting the cuffs off or separated. That would be far too noisy and we can't risk that. I'm sure you understand," Snowman said.
Hogan recognized the man's voice from the night before and took in the man's appearance. He was in his early forties, with a medium build, sandy blond hair and blue eyes. "Yes," Hogan replied. "I don't suppose there's a locksmith around here?"
Shaking his head, Snowman replied, "That's not an option. They would instantly turn you over to the Gestapo."
Hogan frowned and said, "Forget it. I'll manage with the cuffs."
Snowman said, "We've arranged for you to go to the next station in the link to England. There is a safe house in a town called Gemünden and the person there will see to it that you are sent on to the next place."
"Oh? And where exactly is my final destination?" Hogan asked.
"We can't tell you the exact location in case something goes wrong and you are captured along the way. There's too much at risk," Snowman replied with a shake of his head.
Hogan looked at Snowman, and replied, "I understand."
That evening, after dinner, Snowman gave Hogan a blanket to cover his uniform and a civilian hat to wear in lieu of his uniform cap. The next link in the chain to London was a safe house in Gemünden, a small city to the southeast of Hammelburg. The trip took a couple of hours and they arrived at their destination at about 2200 hours by Hogan's watch. Hogan returned the blanket and hat when he was dropped off at the rear of the house.
When Hogan knocked on the door, it was opened and he entered. The woman at this safe house was in her late fifties. He followed her to an inner room. Her appearance instantly reminded him of just about anyone's mother, a typical housewife.
"I suggest you rest for a few hours," the woman said.
Hogan was going to protest, but the look on her face told him that his protests would be in vain. She seemed eager for him to go to sleep. A little too eager, Hogan thought as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
"You will be tired later if you don't rest now. This trip you're on gets harder instead of easier," the woman continued.
"What do you mean?" Hogan asked. He noticed that the expression on her face was almost vicious when she said that, then it was gone as fast as he had noticed it.
The woman frowned and said, "The man from the underground will explain later."
Hogan was suddenly very suspicious. He couldn't take the chance of being caught by an informer. He asked, "When will he be here?"
She replied, "In a couple of hours. Relax. You are safe here. Now get some rest."
Hogan gave in and lay on the bed, closed his eyes and tried to get some rest, but something about her bothered him. He decided to fake it for the time being.
The woman saw that her guest was going to sleep and left to give him some privacy. She went into her bedroom and quietly picked up the phone's receiver. She dialed a number, and a moment later heard, "Gestapo Headquarters, Captain Hauser speaking."
The woman whispered, "I need your help. There is a man who arrived here wearing handcuffs not long ago. He…" She paused, looked over her shoulder and listened to make sure her guest wasn't outside the door eavesdropping.
"Ma'am? Are you still there?" Captain Hauser asked.
The woman whispered anxiously, "Jawohl. I'm sorry, I was afraid the man might be listening at my bedroom door."
"What can you tell us about him?" Hauser asked.
"He is tall, with black hair, wearing a foreign uniform. When I left him a few minutes ago to call you, he was just going to sleep," the woman whispered, and then gave Hauser the address of the house.
"I can't send anyone right now, but I'll send a couple of men over in an hour and a half. Your guest will be sound asleep and in for a rude awakening. You are a fine, loyal German woman for reporting this man. Wiedersehen," Hauser said.
"Danke. Wiedersehen," she replied and then hung up.
After the woman left the room, Hogan opened his eyes and pulled out a paper clip. He had picked it up as he walked past a desk on his way in here and intended to use it to try to pick the lock on the handcuffs. An hour after his arrival, it was approaching 2330 hours and he heard a faint click from the cuff on his left hand that he had been working on. He opened the cuff, slid his hand out of it and rubbed his sore wrist with his right hand. He hid the loose cuff in his right jacket sleeve. He cautiously stood, went to the door, and listened. He didn't hear any activity in the house.
I think I'm in deep trouble if I don't get out of here right now, Hogan thought. He cautiously left the house via the rear door and headed north out of town, keeping to the shadows and alleys as best he could. Soon, he saw the edge of town and the safety of the woods. He looked at the sky, turned northeast and began his journey.