The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belongs to Bing Crosby Productions.

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Weaving a Web to Freedom, Undoing the Past

By Marty Miller

Background information, for this story, is from the HH Episode "The Meister Spy"

Chapter 32

Colonel Hogan was moved from the Operating Theatre to a room, down the hall, where the drug regimen would continue and he would be under 24 hour observation. A team of psychologists worked on tearing down his moral fiber, challenging his beliefs, and causing him as much inner turmoil as possible.

Dr. Dering continued his acts of sabotaging the experiment, by lessening and sometimes skipping doses of medicine he was to administer to Hogan, while always keeping his charting "accurate" and up to date by forging entries on his records. IV's kept the Colonel hydrated, and tube feedings maintained his nutrition during the two-day ordeal.

Colonel Klink remained at the hospital during this test period. Hogan would suffer hallucinations, be combative, and talk "out of his head" immediately after a new injection of drugs. During this time the doctors and scientists would abandon their efforts, and wait for the delirium to subside so they could move in during his more lucid states and take advantage of the lingering fear and uncertainty. Klink had learned the "dose" schedule and would watch the team of tormenters abandon their efforts for the next hour, allowing the prisoner to battle his fears.

It was during this time that Klink couldn't stay away. To see Hogan in this state tore at him. He had grown to respect this man. Living with him for the last year and a half had given him the opportunity to forge a relationship and he liked what he saw. Granted the man could be a royal pain in the…but Hogan had kept him out of some uncomfortable situations and helped him maintain an orderly camp, which he knew was why he still held his position. To abandon him now, when he could return the favors, would go against his own personal moral code.

The orderly that was left with the prisoner during these hours of hell was grateful for the intercession. The American could be quite a handful during this time, despite his weakened condition. He would pull violently at the restraints, and had at one time almost worked one bloodied hand through the narrow leather band around his wrist.

Klink still believed in honor and integrity as it was taught to him by his father, who learned it from his father, all men career soldiers. He hated what his country had become, but that same deep honor kept him from turning his back on it. He would remain loyal to the Fatherland and do whatever small acts he could to continue to hold his head high. And right now one of those acts was to try and comfort the enemy, to make himself heard, in an effort to help calm and reduce the struggling for freedom from the restraints, as Hogan fought to escape his "demons".

"NO!" Hogan cried out, and strained against the leather straps holding him in the bed. His eyes looked through the Kommandant, not registering on his presence, but on some unseen terror in the distance. Klink talked softly trying to make Hogan hear him, even though he knew it was futile. The best he could do was keep the sweat wiped from Hogan's face and offer human touch, hoping it would get through to him that someone who cared was with him.

Hogan yanked violently at the restraints on his arms and legs. The veins in his neck were clearly visible; his eyes were wild with fury.

"Get down…let me go…" The American Colonel was rambling as he tried to tear himself free, to protect himself…or somebody…from some invisible foe.

"Colonel, it's not real, you're all right." Klink wanted to be heard but he didn't know how to get through the delirium. Still he tried.

"They're coming…" he cried, and suddenly Hogan seemed to freeze with his arms pulling at the extended length of the restraint. He didn't appear to be breathing and then… a few shallow breaths, the anguish melted off of his face, he blinked, and slowly sunk back onto the bed, moaning as his back made contact with the sheets. The visions were ending…again.

Always within an hour, the Colonel would calm down and his gaze would begin to settle in on the figure at his side. It was at this time the Kommandant would take his leave before the entourage of doctors and psychologists returned. He was hoping Hogan would have no conscious memory of his being there. It would be easier for them both if there was no bond made from the anguish suffered here. It would interfere with the jobs they both had to do, jobs that would put them at conflict with one another.

When the violent stage ended and the confused exhausted state began, the psychologist would begin picking apart his beliefs. His country would be ridiculed for its actions both here, in the war, and at home in the treatment of its citizens. They questioned his morality and tore at his conscience, scruples and sense of right and wrong. They badgered him to try and defend against their attacks, so they could dispel his answers. His mind would begin to shut down as exhaustion crept in, but sleep was not allowed.

Dering and or Becker would watch these sessions and adjust the drugs, Becker in an effort to weaken the Colonel's resolve and lower his resistance, Dering in an effort to sabotage the outcome in Hogan's favor

Several nightmarish days lay ahead for the Colonel, with hallucinations that he fought to keep at a distance. He continued to drift in and out of consciousness with periods of utter confusion, where he could not be communicated with at all. Though there were times Hogan had no answers for the challenges thrown at him, he refused to give up his beliefs. And, once or twice, threw a challenge back at his tormentors, while continuing to cling to the memories of home and life in a free country whenever sanity returned to him.

General Kaltenbrunner kept in contact with the Fuhrer, and Knefler kept in contact with the General, reminding the General of what they had accomplished and how close they were to complete success.

"We had success with the first part of our testing, Herr General. The drugs lowered the Colonel's resistance, we were able to break his silence and retrieve information he had been guarding," Knefler explained. "However, we are having some problems with the second part. He has not yet let go of his code of belief. The after-effects of the hallucinations and delusions are not continuing to keep his fear at a disruptive level, rendering him off balance long enough for our psychologists to keep him questioning his beliefs, while we lead him to disregard them. I suggest that we accept that we succeeded with the first half of the test, the truth serum aspect, and stop the second half before we cause some permanent brain damage. We are close to complete success, and I know we can take him all the way through the brainwashing stage, as soon as we conquer this last hurdle. He is almost there." Knefler was working hard to keep the American alpha in the testing program. He wanted to win this contest. It had become personal.

Kaltenbrunner worked his magic with the Fuhrer. Hitler agreed they had made a significant advancement. The American Colonel, they thought, had been broken and proved he was no match for German superiority. There was nothing to be gained by his death …at this time. He could still be a valuable propaganda asset to the Third Reich, and an example of what German science could accomplish. So it was decided to discontinue the drug therapy before the American was irreversibly damaged, and try again at a later date.

Germany was already making sure that the Allies knew they had a means of extracting information that would work on the most difficult of men. It was hoped that this information would help put fear in the allied forces by letting them know that German science was superior and make them wonder what other advancements were lying in wait. The Nazis hoped that next advancement would be complete, irreversible mind control.

Hogan's medication was stopped abruptly. The drugs would not be wasted bringing the enemy "down" gradually. Once Hogan had a grasp on reality again, Colonel Knefler paid a visit to the sick American Colonel, who was in the throes of withdrawal from the drugs he had been subjected to. Knefler arrived just as the American, lying on his side, was finishing another bout of nausea. Emma wiped the sweat from his face, which resulted from the abdominal spasms that sent pain through his previously battered body.

Amused, Knefler greeted Hogan, "Feeling better, Colonel?"

"Mmm, very funny," Hogan moaned, trying to hold his next bout of sickness in check to preserve some form of dignity in front of the enemy Oberst.

"I came to tell you I won't have to shoot you after all."

Suddenly turning toward the voice addressing him, Hogan muttered, "I wish somebody would."

Knefler laughed. "The Fuhrer has decided to spare you for now." With a little encouragement from General Kaltenbrunner.

"What changed his mind?" Hogan asked.

"You did, Colonel," Knefler smugly replied.

"What do you mean?" Hogan asked, still looking a bit "green".

"You told us about Strasser's dual role as a British spy." Knefler took great delight in being the one to reveal to the American Colonel, that he had been "broken".

Hogan couldn't remember a lot of the last two days. He waited a moment to see if Knefler would offer any more information. Hogan responded with the appropriate surprise, followed by a look of anger that only increased Knefler's satisfaction. Well at least I know that memory is not a hallucination. Did I say more?

"I'll see you and Doctor Becker 'charged' with experimenting on a POW, after the war," Hogan promised, his voice was stone cold.

Disregarding his prisoner's threat, Knefler announced, "We almost took you all the way this time, Colonel. The next time we meet, it is very likely, we will succeed." Knefler smiled with a venomous air of satisfaction.

"The next time?" Hogan responded. He hadn't anticipated that there might be a "next time". There won't be a next time! But if Knefler thinks there will be, that must mean Papa Bear's identity is still a mystery. Otherwise, I have no doubt there would be no further testing. Except maybe to see how long it took me to die under slow torture.

"Until then, Colonel Hogan," Knefler clicked his heels, saluted and said, "Heil Hitler." Then he immediately turned and exited the room. As he cleared the doorway, he could hear the American fighting another bout of queasiness, which he found amusing, and he went whistling down the hospital corridor.

The next morning Emma was back at his bedside.

"Colonel Hogan…" the nurse whispered, brushing a lock of black hair off of his forehead.

Hogan opened his eyes, "Emma?"

"Yes," she softly answered, straightening the Colonel's arm, preparing to remove the IV that had been keeping him from dehydrating from the fluid he was losing during his bouts of sickness. Both of the Colonel's wrists were thickly bandaged as a result of the violent struggling against his restraints during his periods of delirium.

"They are taking you back to Stalag 13," Emma announced

That news put some life back in the Colonel. "Now?" he prayed.

"As soon as we can get you dressed and ready to travel," she smiled.

Hogan attempted to sit up but had to wait for the room to stop spinning.

Emma smiled with understanding and said, "You're going to have to go slow for a couple of days, while your body recovers. Drink a lot of water and eat even though you won't want to. But eat light and in small amounts until you work your way through the withdrawal."

"How long before this passes?" he asked. All I want to do is sleep, but that's not going to happen. I'll need to find out what's been happening back at camp while I was away. I'm sure they didn't stop the war while I was here.

"Not long; you should be able to eat light and keep it down in another day," she said with encouragement. Probably more like two days, but I know you don't want to hear that!

The Colonel had no choice but to let go of some of his pride and think of Emma as the nurse she was and allow her to help him dress back into the uniform he had arrived in. Thanks to Emma, it had been washed, and though a bit more tattered than when the Colonel put it on back at camp, he was glad to be wearing it again.

Hogan was sitting in the only chair in his room when Knefler entered, followed by Kommandant Klink. Hogan wanted to stand but didn't think it was wise at the moment. Something about falling flat on his face didn't seem dignified.

"Colonel Hogan, Oberst Klink is here to take you back to Stalag 13."

"Kommandant," Hogan acknowledged and nodded.

Klink had returned to camp as soon as the testing was stopped and resumed command. Now he had arrived back at the hospital with Schultz to retrieve his prisoner.

Klink assumed his role. "Colonel Hogan, we will not have any shenanigans on the trip back. Cause any problems and you'll return to a cell in the cooler. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir." I'll go along with your act, Kommandant; just get me out of here.

"Schultz, take Colonel Hogan to the car." Klink ordered.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant. Colonel Hogan, give me your wrists."

Hogan slowly complied. Anything to put this place behind me.

Schultz paused upon seeing the bandaged wrists, and gently slipped the handcuffs on. "Is that too tight?" he asked.

"They're fine, Schultz," Hogan lied.

"He is very weak, Sergeant. You will have to help him out," Emma instructed, as the guard handed the key to the handcuffs to Colonel Klink.

Schultz looked at Hogan and, supporting him under his right arm, helped him to his feet. Hogan leaned more heavily than he wanted on the Sergeant, and they made their way out the door.

Hogan sat in the back of the staff car with Colonel Klink. He had his head laid back on the seat with his eyes closed, counting the bumps in the road that were sending shooting pains through his back, when he suddenly sat up and said, "Stop the car!"

"What?" Klink asked, turning to look at Hogan. He immediately knew the reason. "Stop the car, Schultz."

The car slid to a stop and Hogan agonizingly opened the door with his cuffed hands and stumbled over to a ditch, before falling on his knees and gagging.

Schultz got out of the car without being ordered and held the Colonel's shoulders, supporting his shivering body. When he was done, the Sergeant took his kerchief out and offered it to the Colonel.

"Thanks, Schultz." Hogan stood with help and returned to the car. Perspiration was visible on his face.

"Sorry, Kommandant, I couldn't fight it any longer."

"We're almost there, Colonel Hogan," Klink informed. No need to apologize, he thought.

"Good," Hogan whispered. It was a toss up: deal with the pain to his back or lean forward and let his head bounce with the dips in the road and make his nausea worse. The nausea won out. He again lay his head back against the seat.

Carter came barreling into the barracks, ran past LeBeau, and hollered down into the tunnel, "Hey, a staff car just pulled in."

"Is it the Colonel?" Newkirk asked.

"I don't know; it was just coming through the gate," Carter added.

"According to the Underground, they stopped the testing the day before yesterday. He ought to be back by now," Kinch stated as he climbed up the ladder into the barrack.

"Oui, it's the Colonel with Klink," LeBeau announced from the door. "They stopped in front of the infirmary."

Newkirk closed the tunnel entrance, and joined the others at the door. "Oh, would you…he can hardly stand!"

"Schultz is practically carrying him," Kinch whispered, almost to himself.

The foursome headed out into the compound and aimed for the infirmary.

Wilson had been given a "heads up" by the Kommandant, that Hogan was experiencing withdrawal from his drug regimen, before they went for the Colonel. The Kommandant asked that he keep it quiet. Klink wanted to get Hogan back into camp as unobtrusively as possible. He knew Hogan would not want his men to see him in his current state.

Jeff Dooley, One of Sergeant Wilson's assistants, was assigned to look after the two men already in the infirmary. Not knowing exactly what to expect, the Medic wanted to be free to focus on his Commanding Officer.

Wilson had a bunk ready in one of the two isolation rooms and met the Colonel at the door. Hogan reached out with both cuffed hands to take Wilson's arm.

"I've got you, Colonel!" Sergeant Wilson assured. Wilson frowned while looking at the handcuffs resting on the bandaged wrists.

"It was a long drive, Sergeant. I need to lie down."

"Certainly, Colonel, I have a bunk all ready for you. But first let's get these handcuffs off." Wilson wrapped his right arm around Hogan's waist to support him, freeing Schultz to remove the cuffs.

Hogan slowly flexed his hands. "Am I dismissed Kommandant?" Hogan asked, holding one arm across his stomach.

Klink quickly answered, "Yes, Colonel, you're dismissed, and don't worry about roll call until you're feeling better."

"Thank you Colonel, I may take you up on that," Hogan said, as he made his way to the bunk with Wilson's help.

Before Klink and Schultz made it to the door, Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk entered the room.

"We saw you enter the camp, Kommandant, we came to see how the Colonel is," LeBeau stated.

"You're Colonel is a sick man at the moment, gentlemen. Say your helloes quickly and let him get some rest."

"Yes, sir, thank you, Kommandant," Louis said, with a sour look on his face. LeBeau hated "acting" respectful to the Germans, and he certainly wasn't going to let Klink tell them how much time they could spend with the Colonel.

Klink continued to the door and looked back before stepping outside. Things would soon be back to normal. Welcome back, Colonel Hogan!

Wilson, in the meantime, had reached the bunk and was helping to lower the Colonel onto it. "Lay back, Colonel, I'll get your shoes off."

"I can't …" Hogan began.

Wilson stopped to look at Hogan's face, "You can't what?"

"…lay back," Hogan finished.

Wilson leaned over Hogan and pulled the collar of Hogan's shirt back and peered inside. He saw the bandage and realized the Colonel had some sort of back injury.

"Jeff!" Wilson called. "Give me a hand getting the Colonels Jacket off." The two gently worked Hogan's bandaged arms out of the jacket. Wilson began to unbutton the Colonel's shirt, "I want to take a look at your back, Colonel."

"Not now, Wilson… please," Hogan pleaded.

"All right, Colonel, I'll just help you get positioned on your side for now and I'll still take your shoes off." After doing so, Wilson laid a blanket over his shivering CO. The dressing on his back, from what I can see, looks clean and intact. I'll let him rest for a while before I put him through anything more.

The four men slowed as they approached the Colonel and his injuries became more apparent. "We won't stay, Colonel. Just glad you're back, Sir," Kinch spoke, and then looked questioningly at Wilson.

"He's going through withdrawal from the drugs they had him on." Wilson answered Kinch's question before he asked.

"Thanks guys, it's good to see you too. Sorry, but I'll have to catch up a little later. I just have… to get some sleep…first." Hogan was exhausted and had barely finished his sentence before he fell asleep.

"Sure thing, sir." Kinch looked at Wilson, who nodded his head toward the door, indicating they should leave. And they did… slowly.