Colonel Hogan sipped tasteless coffee from a tin cup as he absently watched his men sleep while his mind wandered. Since leaving the tunnels, they'd had an uneventful journey to the remote cottage of a girl named Amandine. She and her brother worked for the resistance group in the area and had helped Hogan on many other missions in the past. Since their arrival two days ago, Hogan had received word through other underground sources that Lebeau had been transported to Mauthausen-Gusen, which was a concentration camp not too far from the German-Austrian border. He had yet to tell the others and worried that they would be on the trail of a dead body.

The candle light flickered as an unseen draft penetrated their attic room Colonel Hogan shifted and quietly stood to peer out of the un-curtained window and look out across the vast expanse of dark trees. Nothing stirred in the surrounding woods, but there could be seen a thin band of smoke in the distance towards the way they'd come and Colonel Hogan suspected the Nazis were burning the Stalag to hide their treachery.

"What have you heard, Colonel?" whispered Kinch to Hogan's back as he watched his commanding officer in the light of the moon.

Hogan turned slowly to face his second in command so that his face was cast in shadow. "Lebeau is at Mauthausen-Gusen. It's been over a year since his transportation….." murmured Colonel Hogan in a strained voice.

Kinch sighed heavily, "We will be searching for a ghost. There may not even be a body to bring back…."

Colonel Hogan turned to look down at the sleeping Englishman and crammed his hands into his pockets. "We have to try to find him. He is part of our team and even in death is not forgotten. When Newkirks' strength is back up we will leave here."

Two days later, Colonel Hogan and his men climbed into a borrowed car and drove to the Austrian border to meet with an underground agent who owned a house close to the concentration camp where they would set up a base camp.

Carter drove with Colonel Hogan beside him and Newkirk in the back. Kinch crouched under a blanket where he couldn't be seen.

"Kinch; when we reach the house you need to set up radio contact with London and have a tap put on the phones so we can communicate with you if things get difficult" said Hogan as they drove. "Carter and I will dress as Nazis wanting to see the camp and Newkirk will be a prisoner we are transporting to the camp"

Colonel Hogan turned to look at the Englishman who sat looking pale and thin in baggy civilian clothes. "When we leave you in the concentration camp you will have just two days to find Lebeau as I cannot risk any more time with your life. The Nazis will not be merciful and I do not want you antagonizing them to find out information or you could very easily end up dead. Do you understand?"

Newkirk nodded. "Yes, Sir" he said. He was inwardly terrified by the concept of going into the concentration camp as a prisoner and hoped he'd survive just being an unwilling witness to the atrocities he'd heard about.

They arrived during the night and quietly slipped into the underground agents' house without arousing suspicion from the neighbors who were forever watchful and suspicious of anything new. Beyond the hill could be seen a great chimney that chuffed dense black clouds of smoke into the night sky and sent a fearful sick feeling into the pit of Hogan's stomach.

The men hardly slept and spent a good deal of the night going over what had to be accomplished once dawn broke. Colonel Hogan had to order Newkirk to eat before they began to dress their parts as the man was so nervous. Newkirk did as he was told and sat on the edge of Carter's bed trying to take bites of a sandwich while he watched Kinch set up his radio.

As the first rays of light sifted through the windows; Colonel Hogan, Carter and Newkirk climbed back into the car and headed in the direction of the main gates of the death camp. As they approached the gates a guard stopped them to check their papers and peered into the back at Newkirk while he waited for Carter to hand them over.

The guard scanned the papers Carter handed him and nodded curtly; handing them back and waving them on into the main courtyard of the camp. Colonel Hogan and Carter tried to focus on what was before them and tried not to let their eyes wander to the horrors around them. A stifled sob from the back seat confirmed that Newkirk had already seen the victim closest to them whose charred body hung entangled in the high

voltage fence they'd just past. "Take it easy, Newkirk" whispered Colonel Hogan as they stopped the car and watched and waited as a Kommandant and another officer came to greet them.

Newkirk held his breath and watched as the Kommandant and officer approached them. Colonel Hogan and Carter got out of the car to greet the men. From where Newkirk watched, he saw them gesturing towards the car where he still sat. Suddenly the car door was yanked open and an SS soldier reached in and grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the car with such roughness that he cracked his head on the car door. Newkirk heard Colonel Hogan and Carter protesting about the rough treatment, but the soldier ignored them and threw Newkirk ahead of him to the processing stations. Newkirk risked a fleeting glance back at Hogan and Carter and saw them staring after him with pained expressions on their faces.

The next few hours seemed to go by in slow motion and Newkirk felt like he was not inside himself, but floating somewhere nearby watching the whole scene. He felt more frightened than he had ever thought he could be and this time there was no one to save him or protect him from harm. The Nazi processors ordered him to undress at which point he was told to stand on a chair in humiliation and be examined by several other men with strange instruments that they poked and prodded him with. After they were satisfied he was put into a locked room where they deloused him with chemicals. He was then released and his hair shaved off. He was held down while they tattooed a number into his left forearm. He shook so hard that he didn't scream and wondered if he were still alive and why he didn't react to the intense pain. Finally, after what seemed like an age; they gave him foul smelling clothes that were chilly and too big for him.

Smiling, the SS guard gave him a shove out the door and into the gray afternoon light. "Let's go show your Nazi captors what a good transformation you've made!" he said as he prodded the Englishman forward to the main officer's hut.

Newkirk climbed the stairs and waited while the SS guard ahead of him opened the door and pulled him into the room.

Colonel Hogan and Carter sat at a table with drinks in their hands as the door opened and an SS guard pulled a bedraggled looking prisoner into the room.

"This is your prisoner, Sir!" said the SS guard proudly, "Are you pleased?"

Hogan gasped in shock as he recognized Newkirk and heard Carter gasp beside him. His heart hammered in his chest and he tried to look into Newkirks' eyes.

Newkirk caught Hogan and Carter's eyes and turned his head away as he felt tears forming. The SS guard smiled and watched pleasantly as the Kommandant stood up and clubbed the Englishman on the side of the head with the butt of his gun. Newkirk staggered, but remained upright.

"Take him to the barracks; we can't have this kind of filth here when we're about to eat!" barked the Kommandant as he turned to smile courteously at Colonel Hogan and Carter as if to apologize.

Colonel Hogan peered around the Kommandant as he watched the SS guard push Newkirk back outside with his rifle. He prayed that his friend would survive a mere two days in this death camp. Beside him, Carter swallowed repeatedly and tried to focus all his attention on the imposing Kommandant while he fought down a desperate urge to run after his English friend to save him from the horrors just outside the door.

Newkirk sank onto the bunk he'd been assigned to after he'd returned from the arduous work detail in the neighboring quarry where he'd carried heavy loads of rocks on his back all day. He asked as many people as he dared about the little Frenchman, but there was no one who knew anything. There were so many sub camps within just this one camp that Lebeau could be anywhere and two days just wasn't enough time to find him.

Newkirk sighed and shifted onto his right side to allow room for the other four men who shared his bunk and hoped he would be more successful the next day. As an uneasy sleep slowly claimed him; he thought he heard French words spoken in a bunk near him and he staggered back into wakefulness. He listened and amid all the sobs and quiet murmurings he heard a voice he recognized and thought he'd never hear again.

Feeling sick with shock, Newkirk crawled out of bed and turned to the bunk above him where four men were crammed trying to sleep. One man was awake and talking to another man across the bunks.

"Lebeau? Is that you, mate?" said Newkirk in an awed whisper that made his heart thump as he stared up into the upper bunk.

The French talking stopped abruptly and there was a rustling sound as someone small peered over the edge of the bed with a look of shock on his face.

A very thin Lebeau with a shaved head stared down at the Englishman in amazement and happiness and then confusion. He clambered down to join Newkirk and stood before him. They nearly knocked each other over hugging each other and then pulled away too fully look at the other one in closer detail.

"My dear friend" whispered Lebeau as tears filled his eyes. "You cannot be here. You are so thin and pale. What has happened to you?" he reached over and pulled Newkirk to sit beside him on the nearest bunk and looked into his friend's face.

"We came to find you" whispered Newkirk, "Colonel Hogan and Carter are here too, but they're posing as Nazis and staying with the Kommandant. We just have to let them know you are here and they'll take us away from here and back to England!"

Lebeau didn't smile, but stared up into his old friend's face and shook his head.

"It will not be that easy to talk to the Colonel and Carter," said Lebeau sadly. "If we even approach a guard or an officer we die instantly. I'm afraid you have sacrificed yourself for nothing but pain and death. I'm so sorry you came back for me when you could have gone to safety when you had the chance!"

Newkirk stared at Lebeau in shock and tried to pull the small French man into a hug. But Lebeau pulled away from him and stood up.

"I'm very sorry, Newkirk; but I have to distance myself from you or if they see us as friends they will surely kill one of us. I could not bare it if I knew my friendship led to your death in this evil place. I'm so sorry" he whispered as tears of exhaustion streamed down Newkirk's face.

Newkirk shook his head and scrambled to his feet trying in vain to grab Lebeau by the arm; pleading with him to listen to him. But Lebeau turned away and climbed up onto his bunk and pulled his thin blanket over his head trying to block out the stifled sobs from his friend standing despondently below.

The next day began early for Newkirk as the guards got them up before sunrise and trooped them out to the quarries as the first rays of light came over the hills. Newkirk worked in pained silence and occasionally caught glimpses of Lebeau a few yards from him, which renewed his pain. They worked all day and Newkirk wished he had some food as his strength had left him log ago and several times he stumbled. After he stumbled for what seemed the fiftieth time; he felt someone grab him from behind and he flinched, expecting a blow to the head. Instead, a sharp voice whispered in his ear and he turned to find Lebeau beside him looking fierce.

"If you show them you are weakened then they will kill you! If you really are weakened you must pretend to be strong even if you are on your last breath! Watch your step, my friend!" barked Lebeau as Newkirk stared at him in surprise. Lebeau turned on his heel and returned to his place as if he hadn't moved. Newkirk nodded to himself and tried to focus on what he was doing; grateful that Lebeau had made contact.

A few more hours went by and then Newkirk really thought he was going to collapse as he still had not eaten and his strength was severely sapped from not fully recovering from Stalag 13. He shouldered his load and blinked as burning sweat dripped into his eyes, nearly blinding him. He took a few steps and suddenly a sharp pain shot up his weak right ankle and without warning it crumpled beneath him sending him flying. The rocks on his back banged into his head and shoulders as he hit the ground and he gasped in pain as the white-hot pain shot up his leg from his injured ankle. In fear he looked around and saw an SS guard standing over him with a gun pointed at his head. He swallowed and hoped he wouldn't feel much pain when the bullet hit him.

To be continued…….