"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And One Man in His Time plays many parts."
by William Shakespeare
Certain characters have been borrowed with permission from the writings of Mel Hughes (Dress Rehearsal) and LaVerne Cash (New Beginnings); they are identified. If you are interested in reading those works, please send me a message.
If you have not read Theater of War: Act One, Act Two, Act Three and Act Four, including all their Scenes, and Act Five, Scene One, please do so, as each Act is a continuation of the prior Acts.
Theater of War: Act Five — "One Man in His Time" is an amateur publication for the enjoyment of fans. The copyright covers only original material, and in no way intends to infringe upon the privileges of the holders of copyrights, trademarks or other legal rights for the Hogan's Heroes universe.
All items — battles and other information — mentioned in the "News of the Day" are taken from a variety of sources: books on WWII, newspaper articles printed on the dates mentioned and a wide variety of online sites about the war and that date.
Thank you for reading.
Chapter 1
April 3, 1945
Tuesday
News of the Day
"North of the Ruhr pocket, the US Ninth Army is clearing German troops out of the city of Münster; in the south, the German attempt to break out of the Ruhr at Winterberg has failed. Despite the rain, fighting remains heavy for control of Kassel, a key German city. Around the perimeter of the Ruhr pocket, villages and towns are fighting for their homes. In places where there are no Nazi fanatics, towns are able to hang out white flags and are bypassed by our tanks with little or no damage. In other places, zealous SS soldiers or Nazi mayors refuse to heed calls to surrender and instead choose to fight the Allies, resulting in the destruction of towns and the deaths of soldiers and civilians. Extremist Nazis have even executed citizens of some towns for daring to oppose the destruction of their homes.
"Due to poor weather, most bombing missions of the US Air Forces were grounded today, though fighters continue to fly recon and ground support missions
"The head of the U.S. Air Corps General Arnold is in Paris, meeting with Generals Eisenhower, Spaatz, and others. He will also tour several bombed German cities.
"In Germany, Martin Bormann via Nazi Radio Werwolf is calling on Germans to fight the Allies, demanding 'Victory or Death' from his listeners. Meanwhile, Allied radio stations are again beaming General Eisenhower's address of a few days ago to German listeners, calling on German units to cease fighting and surrender to the nearest Allied forces."
Colonel Wilhelm Klink, former Kommandant of Stalag Luft 13, sat on the examining table, stripped to the waist, his back to Doctor Ernst Bauer(1).
"Still tender?" Bauer asked as he gently examined Klink's scarred back.
"Ja," Klink admitted.
"But no pain?"
"Some — if I move too much."
"Itching?"
"A little."
"Gut, the skin is healing nicely. You may put your shirt back on, Herr Kommandant."
Bauer walked away from him as Klink pulled his shirt on and began buttoning it. "Your back will heal, Herr Kommandant, but this time . . . The scars will fade a little over time, but they will not disappear."
Klink picked up his tie. "Ich verstehe, Herr Doktor."
"I wish to see you again in two days. Bitte continue to be careful in your movements; you do not want to reopen the wounds again. Have Sergeant Schultz continue the ointments; it will help with the itching."
Klink nodded, knotting the tie around his neck. "How are things in town? The rebuilding?"
Bauer shrugged. "The rebuilding is extremely slow. Money is useless of course, and we are isolated from others. So . . . Materials . . . supplies, there are problems, even though we salvage what we can from the burned areas. Aber that is true in much of Germany." He glanced at Klink. "There is something I would like to discuss with you, Herr Kommandant."
"Of course."
Klink got off the table and picked up his jacket. He followed Bauer into the kitchen.
"Would you like coffee, Herr Kommandant?"
"Nein, danke." Klink knew how short the food supplies were in town.
Bauer smiled. "This is from the Red Cross packages Colonel Hogan was kind enough to give me."
"In that case, bitte."
Bauer poured him a cup. "I am afraid there is no milk or sugar."
"This is fine."
Bauer sat across from him.
Klink sipped his coffee for a moment before asking, "What is on your mind, Herr Doktor?"
A thin smile. "It is more on the Town Council's mind than mine. I had agreed to present it to you."
Klink waited.
"We, the town," Bauer began, "would like Colonel Hogan to reconsider the restrictions limiting contact between the town and the camp."
"The restrictions," Klink pointed out, "were the Council's idea. The town wanted to be left alone.(2)"
A dry, "Ja, we did. But we overreacted. The problem was not the camp. It was those," an obscene expression, "who arrived later. They were responsible for the outrages. Before they arrived, we had no problems with the camp. Or none that could not be resolved. As a result, we now realize that we have cut ourselves off from a stable source of income. I admit that since the fire, we do not have much, but there are some diversions we can offer to Allied soldiers. Provided we all know what to expect."
Klink smiled faintly. "I see your point."
"The money they would bring in is badly needed, as are any goods they would like to barter," Bauer said.
"Are we just talking about the camp or other soldiers as well?"
"We would like to encourage contact with others as well," Bauer said slowly. "But we would also like to guarantee that what had happened before will not happen again. Right now, we are an island of calm in the middle of raging battles. Battle weary men have need of calmness occasionally. We can provide space for a hospital away from the lines of battle where men from both sides can recover in some peace."
Klink nodded. "I like that idea. It would bring in funds and supplies."
"The hospital may be beyond Colonel Hogan's jurisdiction, but perhaps the rest of it?"
"I will talk to Colonel Hogan, Herr Doktor." Klink stood. "Now, I must return. Thank you for the coffee."
"Danke schön, Herr Kommandant." The doctor stood as well and accompanied him back to the waiting room. Schultz was there with a couple of waiting patients. "Until next time, Herr Kommandant. Oh, one more thing." Klink looked at him. "We have been hearing stories of groups of Nazis, some soldiers, others not, fanatics that seek to continue the war, looking for traitors to their cause."
"Colonel Hogan mentioned that last night, Herr Doktor. Thank you for the warning. Auf Wiedersehen."
"Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Kommandant, Sergeant Schultz."
"Auf Wiedersehen," Schultz echoed.
Out into the gray day; at least, the light rain had stopped. And the coolness of the day had given lie to the warmth of Easter, spring was still slow in coming.
Sergeant of the guard Hans Schultz held the door open for his commanding officer, and then got behind the wheel for the slow drive back to Stalag Luft 13.
Several winding kilometers from Dr. Bauer's office in the former mansion of Baroness von Krimm(3), a black German staff car sat in the middle of the road.
"Well?" Klink asked, stepping out of the car.
Schultz shrugged as he straightened up from peering at the engine. "I do not know what is wrong with the car, Herr Kommandant."
Klink sighed. The car had sputtered to a halt moments after they crossed the bridge from Hammelburg. And they were still some seven kilometers from the camp. At least, by the winding road. A glance at the woods. It was half that distance through the woods.
"I will walk back to camp and get help," Klink said.
"No, Herr Kommandant," Schultz said. "I will walk back to camp."
Klink smiled. "Don't argue, Schultz. The walk will do me good; it is not far. You stay with the car. Enjoy the fresh air."
Schultz didn't protest too long. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
Klink smiled, and leaving his topcoat in the car, set off into the woods.
It really was a good day for a walk, Wilhelm Klink thought as the road behind him disappeared from view. Despite the cool temperature, there were already buds on the bare branches towering overhead, heralding the spring that would come.
It had been a long time since he had been able to take such a walk. For once, he was not planning anything or worried about being shot. When was the last time that he had been able to enjoy such a simple pleasure? He really couldn't remember.
Perhaps, it was inevitable. Perhaps, he was still tired. Or, more truthfully, he had wanted to forget about the harsh realities outside this island of tranquility.
He had gone maybe two kilometers, maybe not.
"Halt!"
The order brought him up short. A mental curse. Daydreaming. A stupid mistake; one a rookie would make. One that got men killed.
He stopped walking and waited for the voice to come into view.
Two armed men stepped out of the cluster of trees before him, a sergeant and a lieutenant, both Americans. Another two men in American uniforms surrounded him.
The sergeant motioned with the rifle.
Klink raised his hands. "I speak English, Sergeant."
Several sets of brows went up at his nearly unaccented tone.
Klink unobtrusively eyed them. The men before him were unlike those he was used to seeing. These men were combat soldiers. Unshaven, men splattered with the mud of the forest trail, men who had seen the horrors of war all too clearly. Men who did not trust, would not trust easily. He was a little surprised to see them here. The war should not have intruded into the one hundred square mile plateau of the camp and the town; the bridges had all been destroyed(4). Yet, here they stood, pointing their weapons at him.
"You're Luftwaffe," the lieutenant said with some surprise of his own.
"Yes. I am Colonel Wilhelm Klink," he said as a very tall man behind him ran rough hands over his body. A wince as the man handled his back.
"Nothing, Lieutenant Halsey," said the deep voice behind him. "He's unarmed."
"There's an airfield around here?" Halsey asked, still the surprise in his voice.
Klink shook his head. "Not anymore."
"Then what's a Luftwaffe Colonel doing walking around in the woods?" the sergeant asked, belligerence dripping from his voice.
Klink didn't answer directly. "My car stopped back on the road and instead of using the road, I decided to take a short cut through the woods."
"To where?" Halsey's voice echoed the hostility and distrust of his sergeant.
"Stalag Luft 13," Klink said with reluctance, his hands still up. "I was the Kommandant there."
"Stalag Luft?" said the man with the medic insignia. "What's a Stalag Luft?"
The eyes of sergeant and Halsey reflected their loathing and hatred.
"A Luftwaffe prisoner of war camp," the sergeant said slowly. "Right?"
Klink could feel the hostility of the men around him grow. "Yes. Most of the men were pilots or from bomber crews."
"A prison camp commandant!" said the tall man behind him. "We've seen a couple of those holes. Treat their prisoners like dirt, starve them — "
"Not Luftwaffe camps," Klink interrupted. "Not many," he amended. His eyes met Halsey's. "Not this one."
"We'll see," Halsey said in a neutral tone. "The boys at headquarters will be happy to see you anyway."
"I am afraid the 'boys' at headquarters will have to be disappointed," Klink said evenly. "This area is under the jurisdiction of Colonel Robert Hogan, U.S. Army Air Corps. I am his prisoner."
Brows rose again.
"And who's he?" asked Halsey, now curious about the mystery man he'd been told to find.(5) Maybe this kraut knew something.
"He was the senior POW officer."
Surprised looks from the soldiers.
"The camp and the town surrendered to him a few weeks ago. May I put my hands down, please?" Klink asked.
After a moment, Halsey nodded.
Klink lowered his hands gratefully, rubbing his left shoulder. Since the knife attack a few weeks back, it still tended to get stiff, not to mention it pulled his back.
"I'm sure the colonel will be surprised to know you've escaped," Halsey said with mock mildness.
"I did not escape, Lieutenant," Klink said. "I was in town seeing a doctor. Colonel Hogan knows all about it."
"Really? He lets you out by yourself?" The sergeant was more than disbelieving.
"I was not alone," Klink said. "My sergeant was with me. He stayed behind with the car."
"Your sergeant!" from Halsey.
"Sergeant Schultz, formerly sergeant of the guard at the camp."
There was no humor in Halsey's voice. "This colonel lets you and your sergeant wander around on your own without a guard."
"Yes," the old Kommandant voice surfaced. "Once in a while."
"He probably attacked the guard," said the tall man behind him. "Killed him and thought he could get away in the car. But it didn't work."
"Ridiculous!" Klink snapped, falling into old habits. And caught himself. These men would not take kindly to Kommandant Klink; the few combat soldiers he had seen in the camp had shown that all too clearly. "This is easily explained. The camp is just a few kilometers that way," he gestured. "Colonel Hogan can clear this up easily."
Another American ran from the trees north of them before anyone could answer him.
"Lieutenant, krauts heading this way," he said quickly.
"How many, Johns?"
"About forty."
The sergeant turned to Klink, open hostility on his face. "Your men, I take it."
"My men are at the camp, Sergeant," Klink said evenly. "We heard last night that there are scattered groups of soldiers, led by SS officers, who might be in the area. I would strongly suggest we leave before they get here."
"You would?"
Klink nodded grimly. "I have no illusions about the SS, Sergeant. Most are fanatics. This uniform would not protect me from them. If they learn about the surrender, I will be hanged as a traitor."
"Your rank?" from Halsey.
"They would not acknowledge it," Klink said. "And I would not suggest confronting forty fanatics with five men."
"Okay," said Halsey. "That way," he gestured back toward the road. "You in front, Colonel. Make a break and you're dead."
"Lieutenant, believe me," Klink said, "I have no intention of making a break for it."
They moved quickly, silently through the woods.
They were good, Klink thought as they ran. Of course, they had to be to get from the American lines to this isolated plateau. If they weren't, they would have been dead by now.
Klink was leading them back to the road. Once there, they should be able to regroup. He hoped to convince Halsey to call the camp for help; he'd spotted the radio backpack on the man called Johns. Hogan had to be told about the marauders in the woods. They were too close to the town and the camp. The former prisoners and the townspeople were used to wandering around freely. If they ran into that group, people would die.
The road was there; the group behind them hadn't caught up with them. Didn't even seem to be aware of them yet. But, unfortunately, the soldiers were heading in their direction.
Schultz was standing beside the car, not sleeping in it as Klink had expected.
"Herr Kommandant!" he exclaimed as Klink burst from the woods, followed by the Americans. "Was ist los?"
"SS in the woods," Klink said quickly. "I, uh, ran into these gentlemen as I was heading back to the camp."
The soldiers stared at the rotund sergeant.
"This is your sergeant? Halsey said in disbelief.
A wry smile at Schultz, who looked embarrassed. "I am afraid so." Then Klink turned to Halsey. "I would suggest you call for help."
"We're on our own," Halsey snapped. "Miles from help."
"No," Klink said. "The camp is approximately four kilometers through the woods we were in; about seven via the road. Using the camp vehicles, Colonel Hogan could be here in less than half an hour. I strongly suggest calling him on your radio."
Halsey and Sands, the sergeant as Klink had learned, exchanged glances. Then the lieutenant nodded as Klink gave him the frequency to use — which, Halsey was surprised to hear, was the frequency he'd been told to use back at headquarters.
The radio was passed to Halsey. "Lieutenant Halsey," he started, "to any Allied personnel in the area. Halsey to any Allied personnel in the area. We need assistance. Repeat, assistance."
Surprise on his face as he heard a voice. Surprise and something else.
"There's a camp all right." There was anger in his voice as he looked at Klink. "The toughest POW camp in Germany."
An inward groan. "That is a joke," Klink said. "A very old one. Ask for Colonel Hogan."
Halsey, against his better judgment, did so.
Disbelief crossed his face as he heard and repeated aloud, "'Sorry, the Colonel is giving dictation at the moment and cannot be disturbed.' What the hell is going on?" he demanded.
Klink took the radio from him; Halsey was too startled to stop him.
"Newkirk," Klink ordered, "you have two seconds to get Colonel Hogan on this line!"
An abashed, "Yes, sir," from the other end.
Klink handed the radio back to Halsey who took it with an odd look on his face.
"Kommandant?" an American voice asked. "Where did you get a radio? Or should I even bother to ask?"
"Colonel Hogan?" from Halsey.
Hogan's voice changed. "Yes. Who is this? And where's Kommandant Klink?"
"My name's Lieutenant Halsey. I found your Kommandant Klink walking in the woods."
Hogan laughed. "Oh, did he get away? Guess we forgot to lock the front gate again."
Klink sighed as Schultz looked skyward. The men around them looked thoroughly nonplussed.
"May I?" Klink held his hand out for the radio as the medic behind him said, "POW camp? Or a mental hospital?"
Halsey handed Klink the radio without a word.
"Colonel Hogan," Klink said, "there's an SS patrol, about forty men, heading this way."
The humor disappeared from Hogan's voice. "Where are you?"
"On the road back to camp, approximately seven kilometers. They are not far away."
"Who's with you?"
"An American squad, five men. I, uh, ran into them in the woods."
"Put Halsey on."
Klink handed the radio back to Halsey.
Hogan got right to the point. "Help's on the way — "
Whatever else he said was lost in unexpected gunfire. Schultz yipped loudly and tumbled into the ditch beside the road. The others followed instantly, ducking for cover.
Klink, ignoring the firepower that blazed over his head, crawled towards Schultz. The sergeant, looking dazed, was lying against the wall of the ditch.
Klink had reached him. Pain was replacing the shock in the eyes of his sergeant.
"Don't move, Schultz," Klink said softly. "Let me do the work."
Gently, Klink unbuttoned the overcoat Schultz was wearing and eased his arms out of it. Blood stained the uniform under the heavy coat. There was a wound under Schultz's left collarbone.
One of the Americans was kneeling beside them. "I'm a medic," he said. "My name's Walton, but everyone calls me Doc. I can take care of him."
Klink nodded. "Is that all right with you, Schultz?" Klink asked.
Schultz nodded and then groaned. "I am sorry, Herr Kommandant. I am such trouble."
"Don't be silly," Klink chided. "I know it hurts."
"Hurts," Schultz said disparagingly. "Compared to what you have been through, this is nothing."
"Just stay still and quiet," Klink said, leaving Schultz to the medic.
He crawled over to Halsey as deafening gunfire from both sides resounded around him.
"How far did you say that camp is?" Halsey asked.
"Less than half an hour," Klink said.
"We could be dead in half an hour," Sands said.
Klink nodded, peeking over the top of the ditch. So far, the attackers were on the other side of the road, finding cover behind trees and shrubs. A frown — they looked like regular Wehrmacht soldiers.
"May I borrow your binoculars, Lieutenant?" Klink asked.
Puzzled, Halsey gave them to the monocled man.
Klink adjusted the lenses and lifted them to his eyes. He swept the woods. There, behind the soldiers, was the problem. An SS major and two lieutenants. They were egging on the others, many of whom scarcely looked in any condition to fight.
Klink handed the binoculars back to Halsey. "There are three SS men in the back. Eliminate them and I think I can convince the others to surrender."
Halsey spotted them. "Why not convince them now? You're a colonel."
A humorless smile. "Because I dislike being shot. They will not listen to me as long as those three are around. Right now, the men are more afraid of the SS than they are of you."
Machine gun fire sprayed the area in front of him. Klink slid further down into the ditch, his eyes taking in the woods behind them. Then he glanced down the ditch. If Schultz weren't injured, they might have been able to make their way along the ditch toward camp. But now, a glance back at Schultz, they couldn't leave. A hard look at the woods behind the ditch. There were a number of tall trees behind them. An idea formed, one he didn't like. Bits of the road exploded toward him. He slid further down. They couldn't wait for Hogan and his men. At some point, the SS would order a direct assault on them, resulting in casualties on both sides. He swore silently, unable to think of another solution.
"Lieutenant," Klink moved closer to the American, "do you have a man who is a sharpshooter?"
Halsey glanced at him. "What do you have in mind?"
Klink nodded toward the trees behind him. "A man up there could, if he was good enough, target the SS men."
Halsey followed his gaze. "Might work."
"Except for one thing," his sergeant said. "None of us are that good."
"I am," Klink said.
"Give you a gun?" There was disbelief in Sands's voice.
"What do you have to lose?" Klink asked.
"And you shoot us in the back," Halsey said.
"You keep a gun on me all the time," Klink said. "If I so much as point it at you, you kill me."
The two men exchanged glances and looked at him again. Klink met their gazes unflinchingly.
"All right," Halsey said. "Johns, give him your rifle."
"But, Lieutenant," the soldier started to protest.
"Do it!"
Reluctantly, the man gave Klink the rifle.
Klink took it carefully, making certain he made no sudden moves.
"All right, Colonel," Halsey said. "You've got your gun. But one wrong move and you're dead."
Klink nodded and, in a crouch and partially obscured by the car, he moved toward the trees. As he expected, Halsey had his pistol aimed at his back. Klink reached the trees. He rejected the first. Then he began climbing the second one, feeling his back muscles pull — doing what to the barely healed scars? Finally, he was in position. None too soon.
Their opponents had begun to make their way across the road. A tremendous fire started from the Americans. Klink wasn't happy to see German soldiers falling on the road. Despite everything, these were still his people who were dying. He had to end it.
He was at a good spot now. Klink raised the weapon to his right eye. Looking through the sight, he found the three men he was after. He found himself sweating; he didn't want to do this. He'd always hated this part; he hated the killing. But he also knew those men would have no compunctions about killing him. Or torturing him. And eliminating them would end the deaths of the other Germans. He forced himself not to think, forced himself to concentrate on his task. He found one of the SS in his sight. He squeezed the trigger; the weapon fired. And the man in his sight crumpled. The Wehrmacht soldier next to him ducked for cover. Klink looked away. Where was the major? If he could stop the major, perhaps, it would be enough.
The major took some locating. He was behind some of the soldiers; he had to be forced out.
"Lieutenant," Klink called, "concentrate your fire to the left, next to those shrubs."
Halsey, his gun still aimed at Klink, gave the order.
As Klink expected, the firepower forced the major over. Another squeeze of the trigger. The major got lucky, as the bullet grazed his sleeve. He moved instinctively. The wrong way. Klink could see the surprise on major's face as he fell. Now, where was the third man?
The third SS man had watched with disbelief as the other two SS men were cut down. A desk officer rather than a combat man, he panicked and began to run. Klink's shot felled him.
Klink dropped the rifle and climbed out of the tree. "Hold your fire," he told Halsey.
Halsey nodded and gave the order.
Klink had pulled out his handkerchief and tied it to a long stick. He waved it over the ditch.
"Hey!" protested Church. "He's surrendering!"
"I don't think so," said Halsey, beginning to trust this odd Luftwaffe colonel.
The white flag had the desired effect. Slowly, the gunfire from across the road stopped.
Klink carefully climbed out of the ditch behind the car; it would afford a little cover. He began speaking in German.
"Probably telling them to blast us to bits," murmured one of the men, Johns, in disgust.
Schultz shook his head, his eyes glazed. "He is telling them that the SS men are dead and that he is the senior officer in the area. He is telling them to surrender and promising them fair treatment if they do."
"Right," disbelief in Johns' voice.
A noise from down the road. Vehicles of some kind.
The Germans heard it as well. Uneasy looks on their faces; a few raised their weapons.
Klink changed his tone. It was now plainly an order that he was issuing. An order for the men to drop their weapons. Or, as Schultz translated, be prepared to die uselessly when the Americans showed up. Klink's voice grew harsh as he snapped another order.
Some of the men responded instinctively to the command and their weapons dropped. Others followed reluctantly. A couple, foolishly, raised their weapons, preparing to open fire on him. They were cut down instantly by the sergeant's machine-gun fire. That convinced the others. Weapons dropped to the road as four trucks, German trucks, turned the corner in the road.
There was an odd mix of feelings among the Germans and the Americans. The Germans, for an instant, thought they were being rescued, the Americans that they had been betrayed. Until the first truck stopped and an American jumped out of it, followed by others with weapons — Americans, Englishmen, even Frenchmen in an odd mix of uniforms.
Klink walked from behind the car and waited as the men approached. The American soldiers climbed out of the ditch as the mixed group of men came closer.
The first man, an American colonel, they now saw, was walking over to Klink.
"You all right?" the American asked the German colonel.
Klink nodded. "Your timing was impeccable."
The American smiled faintly. "I try. But," his eyes swept the Germans, "it looks like you've got everything under control. How'd you do it?"
Klink suddenly felt very tired and looked it.
"Never mind," the American colonel said after glancing at his face, "you can tell me later."
Halsey and the other Americans walked over to them and saluted. "Colonel."
Hogan returned their salutes. "Lieutenant Halsey," he held out his hand, "I'm Colonel Hogan."
"Colonel Hogan," Halsey greeted. "This is Sergeant Sands."
A nod in his direction. "You're kind of off the beaten track, Lieutenant. What are you doing in our little neck of the woods?"
"Looking for you, Colonel," Halsey said to Hogan and Klink's surprise.
"Schultz!" cried an accented voice behind them.
Klink turned back to the ditch, followed by Hogan. He jumped down and knelt beside his pale sergeant. LeBeau knelt on the other side of him. The big sergeant was clearly in pain.
"We've got to get him to Doctor Bauer," Klink said in a tight voice.
Hogan stayed on the road overlooking the ditch. "We called Doctor Bauer before we left and told him to expect company."
"I can give him some morphine," Doc said.
"Do it," Hogan ordered. He glanced at the car. "What's wrong with the car?"
"It stopped," Klink said, watching as the medic gave Schultz a shot.
"Carter, Newkirk!" Hogan called. "See if you can figure out what's wrong with the car!"
Klink's eyes stayed on his sergeant. As the shot took effect, slowly the pain ebbed from Schultz's face. "Feel better, Schultz?" Klink asked.
A tired nod and an attempt at a smile. "I will be all right, Herr Kommandant," he said. "By tomorrow, I will be — "
"You will stay off duty until Doctor Bauer says you are well enough," Klink said with mock sternness.
Schultz didn't try to argue.
Klink stood and climbed back up to the road. He glanced at the car; Carter and Newkirk were tinkering under the hood. A look around. Some of the men Hogan had brought with him were combing the woods, looking for dead and wounded men. He wasn't surprised to see Gruber had taken charge of the prisoners, though Halsey and the other Americans were astonished at what was happening. A shaking Wehrmacht sergeant was talking with Gruber; Klink listened in. There had been forty-three Wehrmacht soldiers. About five were dead; their bodies and the bodies of the SS men were being carried to the middle of the road. Twelve others were wounded, three or four seriously. The rest were sitting in a circle on the side of the road under the watchful eyes of the former prisoners from Stalag 13.
Klink walked over to Hogan who was watching what was going on with the American squad.
"I'd — " Hogan started and stopped as a car with a Red Cross flag on it slowly came up the road.
"Doctor Bauer," Klink said, recognizing the car.
The car stopped a few yards away from them. Doctor Bauer, along with his nurse Klara Arensberg, got out of the car and walked over.
"Gentlemen," Bauer greeted, "we waited until the firing appeared to be over. May we be of some use?"
Hogan nodded. "I think there's plenty for you to do, Doctor. I'd like you to look at Schultz first, if you don't mind."
"Schultz!" Bauer was startled. "Where?"
Hogan nodded toward the ditch.
Bauer, followed by his nurse, went to the fallen sergeant. A quick examination of the hurt man and Bauer stood. He walked back to them.
"I would like him to spend the night at the clinic, Colonel Hogan. Fortunately, while he is uncomfortable, the wound does not appear to be serious."
Hogan nodded. "I'm afraid you have some more patients." Hogan nodded toward the wounded German soldiers.
Bauer went over to them, followed by Klara.
Another car, with a white flag on it, was approaching them. Monsignor Geisler and Bürgermeister Scheinfeld(6) got out of the car. They both looked nervously at the wounded and dead soldiers along the road.
"Colonel Hogan," the Bürgermeister greeted him. "Kommandant." His eyes strayed back to the Germans. Monsignor Geisler was going over to the dead men, pulling a stole from his pocket.
"Doctor Bauer called us," the Bürgermeister explained as Hogan looked at him curiously. "What will you do with them?"
Hogan glanced at Klink. "Suggestions?"
"May we bury the dead in the town's cemetery?" Klink asked the Bürgermeister.
The Bürgermeister wet dry lips nervously. "The Council would have to approve. But that will present no problems. The rest of the men?"
"The wounded will have to be taken to Doctor Bauer's under guard," Hogan replied. "The rest . . . " His eyes swept the men. "I suppose we'll have to take them back to camp. But I can't say I like the idea."
"Neither do I," Klink said.
"Captain Gruber," Hogan said, "get the men into three of the trucks. Except the ones Doctor Bauer wants to keep."
The Luftwaffe captain nodded and ordered the prisoners to the trucks.
Klink walked back to Schultz who was being helped into the staff car. "I'd like to go with him," Klink said to Hogan.
"No problem. LeBeau, go with them."
"Oui, mon Colonel." LeBeau slid behind the wheel.
Klink got in beside him. "I'll see you back at camp," he told Hogan.
Hogan smiled faintly. "Take your time." A glance at Schultz. The large sergeant's face was like putty. "And you behave yourself, Schultz."
"Jawohl, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said in a weak voice.
The car started away.
Hogan glanced around. Most of the prisoners were in the trucks now. The remaining truck held the wounded and a group of men who would act as their guards.
Bauer walked over to Hogan. "Colonel, would it be possible to have Sgt. Wilson send one of his medics over to the clinic to help out?"
Hogan nodded. "Morrison and Bellini can go with you; they've had the training. What about the non-serious wounded?"
"Sgt. Wilson can tend to them, unless you'd like to send them as well?"
Hogan thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. That would work out better. Can you put them into a separate wing at the estate? Officially, they are prisoners."
"Ja, Colonel. The east wing is large enough and there are enough mattresses. And it can be safely secured. But I have not used it as a hospital yet; it needs to be set up."
"Not a problem. Morrison, Bellini," Hogan called.
Two men hurried over.
"Yes, Colonel," Morrison said.
"You two are helping Doctor Bauer. He'll fill you in on what needs to be done. I'll have Wilson send over a couple of men to relieve you later."
"Sure thing, Colonel," Morrison said.
"You gentlemen can ride with me in my car," Bauer offered.
Morrison and Bellini nodded and walked over to Bauer's car.
"How are you fixed for medical supplies?" Hogan asked.
"I believe I have enough left from the supplies you sent me earlier," Bauer said.
Hogan nodded. "Okay. If you need anything, have one of the men call the camp."
"Jawohl, Colonel Hogan. Danke."
Bauer, his nurse and the two Americans got into Bauer's car. The car, followed by the truck filled with the wounded and their guards, started for the makeshift hospital.
Hogan turned to the American squad and gestured toward one of the trucks. "Shall we, gentlemen?"
The men, exchanging looks, followed Hogan to the truck. In moments, the three trucks headed toward the camp.
ENDNOTES
1) Act One
2) Act Four
3) "My Favorite Prisoner"
4) Act Four
5) Theater of War: Act Five, Scene One
6) Act Three
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