While his men got ready in the common room and in the tunnels, Hogan finished his breakfast and emptied his coffee cup in one go. Getting up from his seat, he picked up his crush cap and set in a jaunty angle on top of his head. With an impish smile adorning his handsome features, Hogan left his office and crossed the common room; his eyes registering the preparations that went on all around him. His smile got even brighter when he saw the usual bickering between Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter. Some things never change; he thought to himself and shook his head.
Before he was able to head down into the tunnel, LeBeau's voice stopped him in his tracks; one leg already over the bunk frame. He looked to his chef, who held his precious leather bomber jacket in one hand and was holding out his other expectantly towards him. "You can't head over to see the Kommandant like this, mon colonel. You should at least wear your bomber jacket instead of the black windbreaker. Suits better in combination with your crush cap, Sir."
Stepping fully back into the common room, Hogan shed his black jacket and changed it swiftly for his brown leather bomber jacket. It felt like a second skin to him and was a usual source of comfort for the downed command pilot; whenever he was down emotionally, that jacket reminded him of who he was and it always gave him new energy to carry on his mission. He thanked LeBeau with a gracious smile for his help and with a last comment to his men; he vanished into their tunnel and closed the bunk entrance behind him. Once down in the dark, cool tunnel; Hogan sighed in relief, as the cooler temperature did wonders for his splitting headache. It seemed to recede to the back burner for now and Hogan was able to concentrate on his upcoming confrontation with the camp Kommandant. Still unsure of how to proceed once he got there, the colonel finally decided to just play it by ear; to make things up as he went along. He hoped for the best outcome for his men and himself.
After a few turns, he reached the ladder that would lead into the Kommandant's private quarters. Hogan took a few deep breaths to brace himself and climbed up the ladder, slowly as to not antagonize his fresh injuries. A few grimaces and a sharp intake of breath were the only signs of his discomfort, as Hogan finally emerged through the hidden entrance beneath the stove. He shoved it back into place and after he saw that he was alone; Hogan calmly waited for the Kommandant to come out of his office. He sat down on the comfortable couch in the living room and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles; he also crossed his arms over his chest and not knowing how long it would take for Klink to come in, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
He was about to doze off completely, when the sudden noise of the front door opening, jarred him out of his sleepy state.
The next moment he heard the shuffling feet of the Sergeant of the Guard, Hans Schultz and the lighter tread of the camp's Kommandant Colonel Klink, who sent his most loyal guard back out to watch duty after he dismissed him for the night. "This will be all, Schultz. You can go back to guard duty for Barracks Two. Do not disturb me unless it is something important regarding the camp. Dismissed, Schultz."
After Schultz had closed the door behind him from outside, the Kommandant walked briskly into his quarters; ready to turn in for the night. But as he reached the middle of his living room, something stopped him in his tracks; something so totally unbelievable that he just shook his head to clear his eyesight. But even after blinking a few times; the sight before his eyes didn't change. There; right in front of him, on his couch in his living room, sat the one person everybody believed to be dead; killed by shots from a firing squad right in the middle of this very camp: his former senior POW officer, Colonel Robert Hogan, in the flesh and very much alive.
Hogan saw the ghostlike complexion of the Kommandant and took pity on him. Rising slowly; he approached him cautiously, like one would a startled animal and said softly, "I'm not a ghost, Kommandant Klink. I am really here; alive and kicking. The execution you all saw was faked with help from the underground. As contradictory as it might sound, it was all done to save my life from certain individuals who want to take me out for good this time. I'm sorry that it had to be done this way, but I had no other choice. Time is still running out for me, so I will have to leave the country. But before I do that, I have something else to do; something equally important."
Hogan paused to take a breather. After a few moments and knowing he had Klink's full attention, he carried on, "As you may have heard over the last few days, the fighting is getting closer to Hammelburg and therefore this camp. To ensure everyone's safety when our troops finally arrive to liberate us, I gave the order to take over the camp to my men. And don't worry, Kommandant…your men will be safe. You know I don't tolerate violence, and I gave the explicit order to my men to avoid bloodshed. They all follow my orders to the letter, as none of them wish to be on the receiving end of my wrath. You have my word as an officer and a gentleman; none of your men will get hurt in this take-over. In that regard, you can fully trust me, Kommandant Klink."
Still not fully comprehending what he had just been told, Klink only nodded and sat down heavily on one of the stuffed armchairs, wiping a hand over his weary face. Klink looked up at Hogan and only now realized he wasn't wearing his full uniform. He saw the crush cap and the leather bomber jacket, but nothing else. Beneath the jacket, Hogan wore a black turtleneck, a pair of black pants and black boots; the camouflage color for all commando units. Klink thought over all the events which happened in and around the camp in the last three years and came to the conclusion that Major Hochstetter of the Gestapo was truly right in his accusations; Hogan was a member of the underground. "So you are truly a spy and saboteur, like the Gestapo had you always accused of being; the mysterious Papa Bear, the great legendary underground leader. How were you able to pull this all off Hogan; without anyone ever finding anything in your barracks? How did you do it?"
Not wanting to explain every detail to the Kommandant, even though it seemed fruitless now, to try and hide it any longer; Hogan cleared his throat and replied, "I can't go into any details, Kommandant; but the reason we managed to keep our operation running all this time so successfully, was you, Sir. You are the most humane camp Kommandant I had ever encountered so far since my capture and you showed compassion towards us from day one. That combined with Schultz's policy of 'seeing nothing', allowed us to operate right under your very noses; without any one of you suspecting anything. To you and your guards and your visiting brass, we were just cowed and frightened POWs, sitting out the end of the war; but in truth we were still an active fighting unit, doing everything in our power to assist the Allied war effort and to end this war one day sooner."
Hogan paused in his monologue, swallowed hard and carried on, "I hope that one day, you will be able to forgive me my deception and how I callously used your compassion for our benefit. Please accept my sincere apology and let bygones be bygones." Here Hogan paused once more, stood ramrod straight and gave a picture-perfect salute to the utterly stunned camp Kommandant; before he continued, "This concludes our business, Colonel Klink. From here on out, you will be kept under guard here in your quarters. Schultz will join you, as he is the man that is closest to you from all the Noncoms. The rest of your guards will be kept under guard in their own barracks by some of my men. Tonight you will be all by yourself; but tomorrow morning this will change. We will officially take over the camp and change the flag on the flagpole to the "Stars and Stripes" banner. Once this is done, my men will take over the guard duty and that includes the guard towers. It won't be long now until the first Sherman tank or American jeep will be in sight of the camp, and we need to be prepared. I will make sure that you will be treated fairly and according to your rank, but these are all the concessions I can make for you. As they say; you have made your bed and now you have to lie in it. Don't take this personally, but I'll be more then glad to see the last of you once I am out of here. Good night, Colonel Klink."
With those final words, Hogan made a perfect about face and left the quarters through the front door, knowing full well that his men have taken over the camp by now. And he was not disappointed; as soon as he stepped onto the front porch, Newkirk came alongside him and told him that everything went smoothly and that even the tower guards gave up without a fight and were now all under constant watch in the guard's barracks, including Strudel king Schultzie. Hogan had to laugh at hearing the last words. "So you had no problems carrying out the mission of this take over?"
"Absolutely none whatsoever, Gov'ner. Most of the guards are either too old or too young to be in this ruddy war and they were somehow glad to be able to put this all behind them. Now all we have to worry about is getting you to London on time, Sir…before 'em ruddy blighters get here from Berlin to kill you off." Almost every time Newkirk was anxious about something or worried about someone, his Cockney accent got more pronounced and was easily heard.
Hogan put a comforting arm around Newkirk's shoulders and pulled him along across the compound on their way back to barracks two. As they reached the door, Hogan smiled brightly at his English corporal and said, "You've all done well, Newkirk. Hit the sack and try to rest as much as possible. Tomorrow will be a long day for all of us." With a last friendly clap on the shoulder, Hogan bid Newkirk good night and headed into his own quarters. Before he closed the door behind him, he turned around to the men in the barracks and shouted to all, "Good work men! Now get some sack time and that's an order! Good night; gentlemen."
With those words, Hogan sequestered himself into his office and without bothering to change; just slipped off the jacket, threw the cap onto the upper bunk and stretched out on the bottom one. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the makeshift pillow.
Minutes later, the door to his office opened quietly and LeBeau sneaked inside. As he saw his commanding officer already deeply asleep, he walked over and gently covered him with a blanket to keep him warm. He even bent down and in true French fashion, gave his CO a light kiss on his cheek and on his forehead, wishing him to sleep well. Then he exited the quarters as quietly as he had entered it and went back to his own berth to get some sleep.
