Chapter Two
The sound of shuffling feet entering the barracks made Hogan glance anxiously at his watch and stand quickly from his desk, the cold cup of coffee he held only half-finished. He strode to the door to his private room and threw it open, stepping into the common barracks area.
"Hey, it's about time. What kept--?" Hogan chided amiably, suddenly bringing himself up short.
The scene made his spirits sink. A straggling parade of weary, filthy prisoners hobbled in, barely able to drag themselves to their respective bunks where they collapsed with a chorus of groans.
Hogan surveyed his team with dismay. Struggling with the effort, Carter sat on the edge of his bunk and slowly removed his dust-covered boots, the holes in his socks revealing several blisters just waiting to burst. LeBeau lay in his bunk, one arm draped over the edge, as his hand flopped against the floor. His eyes were already closed and mouth agape for the beginning of a deep snoring session. Kinch had begun to pour himself a cup of coffee, but then changed his mind and wearily set the pot back on the wood stove. He knew he wouldn't remain awake long enough to get more than two swallows down. He now appeared to be asleep on his feet, leaning against a nearby bunk post. Newkirk was stretched out atop a wooden table in the center of the room. Too exhausted to climb into his upper berth, he'd opted to collapse across the table and was half-asleep, still fully clothed.
"For cryin' out loud, what did they have you guys doing out there? Klink said the work detail was going to be light duty picking up litter in town."
Carter turned a grimy face toward his commanding officer. "Oh, it was, sir. At least, that's how it started out." He rubbed the side of his cheek, the streaks of dirt smudging together.
"It was until the ruddy efficiency expert from Berlin showed up, sir." Newkirk slipped off his garrison cap and laid it over his chest, folding his hands on top as though waiting only for a lily to be placed between his clasped fingers to complete the funereal scene.
Having finally collapsed into his bunk, Kinch turned his head and opened one eye. "Klink forgot to mention that General Burkhalter was sending someone along to find ways for us to work more productively. Colonel, did you know that there are at least fifteen different ways to patch holes in a road? And we're now experts in all of them."
"I don't think I've ever seen that much gravel before," Carter complained. That was it, he mentally reproached himself. As soon as he got back to Bull Frog he was going to get serious about passing that pharmacy exam. No more hard labor for him.
The American colonel groaned silently. There was no way the team would be up to tonight's mission. They'd gone out the evening before and placed the destructive charges on the trestle, but only hours earlier Hogan had been in the tunnel beneath their barracks when the Morse code hand key burst into activity. An underground group was signaling Papa Bear that the timed explosion hadn't gone off. It meant having to return once more to redo the risky job.
Hogan scowled. Tonight would be their last chance to disrupt the supply train. If those engine parts made it to their destination the embattled line of Wehrmacht troops still occupying France would repair their halted tanks and generate a fresh challenge for the advancing Allied ground forces. That meant more loss of life, and that was something he couldn't accept.
He mentally cursed Klink. If the camp Kommandant hadn't forced him to remain behind that morning to go over the latest figures on prisoner transfers he might have been able to intervene with this so-called efficiency expert. He guiltily surveyed the room wondering how he could possibly ask them to go out again in a few hours.
Kinch fought to keep one eye open. He'd been silently watching Hogan and caught the worried look on his commander's face. Something was up. He struggled to a sitting position.
"Uh, oh. What happened, Colonel?" he asked suspiciously.
Hogan distractedly rubbed his temple. "That's the problem. Nothing happened."
"Eh?" LeBeau raised his head with effort. "Qu'est que c'est, mon Colonel?" he muttered wearily.
Hogan hesitated. "The bridge didn't blow."
"Huh? You sure, Colonel?" Carter tried to force his weary mind to remember the settings he'd used for the timers. He was sure he'd gotten them right. After a previous mission when he'd botched the chance to blow up a passing convoy, he wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.
Hogan spotted the concern on the enlisted man's face and waved reassuringly. "Relax, Carter, it wasn't your fault. The timers were defective. I checked the ones we had left, and they didn't work either. Must've gotten a bum shipment with the last supply drop. And to think I didn't ask for a receipt. How am I ever going to get London to take them back on exchange?" Hogan smiled gamely, although it wasn't lost on him that no one else shared in the joke. They were all too exhausted to even follow what he was saying.
Kinch struggled to swing his legs over the side of his bunk. The attempt at humor may have passed unnoticed, but not the implications of what had happened. The failure meant they'd have to go back out again. He grimaced as he tried to force one swollen foot back into his leather boots, stiffly caked with dried mud.
The display of dedication touched Hogan. The soft-spoken radioman was his steadiest man, the one he could always count on when the going got tough or spirits sagged. Whether conscious of his impact on others or not, the calm resolve of the one-time Golden Gloves champion had slowly matured into a quiet, yet effective, leadership style. Hogan had made detailed note of those strengths in the write-up he'd sent to London several months ago. He expected any day now there'd be a surprising announcement coming out of Headquarters as a result.
Hogan held up one hand dismissively. "Don't bother, Kinch. You guys deserve a rest after what you went through today. I can take care of things without you."
"Gee, Colonel, it's too risky for you to do this one by yourself." Kinch looked questioningly at his senior officer.
"I'll be fine, mother. Besides, you guys did all the hard work last night, setting the charges and running the wires. All I've got to do is replace a few timers. A piece of pie, as m'boy Carter here might say."
Hogan grinned reassuringly at the communicator who was already beginning to settle back against the lumpy mattress.
"Besides, it'll be nice to take a midnight stroll in the moonlight for a change. I've been feeling pretty cooped up in this place."
"Well, okay, Colonel, if you say so," Kinch mumbled, dropping quickly back off to sleep.
Yep, just a little moonlit stroll, Hogan thought, as he turned toward his barrack room to prepare for the outing, quietly closing the door behind him so as not to disturb his slumbering team of men.
Continued in Chapter Three