Skating/skate

This one is a snapshot (word has the count at 490 words)

"Permission to make ice skates, sir."

"No miniature golf, bowling alley, or skates. Request denied." Klink gave Hogan a look of exasperation, then went back to his paperwork.

"Well, it's winter; golf will have to wait." Hogan sighed. "Look, Kommandant. There's a lot of bored but talented young men in camp. They'll make the skates.

Klink put down his pencil. "Blades are sharp. You'd be making weapons. Like I would fall for that type of nefarious plan."

Yes, you're that gullible, Hogan thought. "For once, sir, just listen. I'm not trying to pull the wool over your eyes-or one eye-Kommandant." Hogan walked over to the window. "Look. It's completely frozen over. One of our boys is in the infirmary with a severely sprained arm. Even the dogs are having issues." Hogan snapped his fingers. "I wonder if our boys can make little booties."

Klink picked up his stack of paperwork and slammed it down on the desk.

Startled, Hogan jumped and then said, "I'm just thinking about your own self-interest. I'll bet they have ice skates out east."

"What does that have to do with anything? Coddling prisoners and giving them winter equipment will not get me sent to the Russian Front."

Hogan turned away from the window and paused to check his fingernails. "They will if the guards can't guard because they're too busy slipping and sliding. There's not enough salt or traction to fix it. Prime time for escapes."

"Who asked you…" Klink paused and a look of terror came over his face. He walked over to the window, and sure enough, what began as a minor water main break had turned the entire compound into an ice rink. Schultz cowered in terror as he tried to walk his post; two prisoners offered a helping hand as they coaxed the sergeant over the ice. A guard dog refused to move, digging its paws into the ground. Younger guards, using their rifles for balance, gingerly stepped on the ice. The prisoners, who stood on the sidelines, blew on their hands to keep warm, chuckling at the sight of the guards sliding their way through their rounds.

Klink let out a little squeak. Winter supplies for soldiers were in very short supply. Never mind acquiring metal to make skates.

"Trust me, sir. If you can somehow get the metal, I can find some boys who can work some magic. Then we can have an ice hockey tournament!" Hogan was enthusiastic about the possibility. He could almost hear the crowd of kids back in Connecticut, skating on the frozen pond near his home. He could almost smell the hot cocoa and sense the warm fire. He sighed as he closed his eyes for a moment.

Klink now felt a kindred spirit with the American. He also recalled pleasant memories from a happier time. "You really aren't trying to trick me?" he asked.

"No. Just making lemonade out of lemons," Hogan replied.