Chapter 2
The trucks passed through the front gate of Stalag Luft 13 and stopped. The American squad jumped out of the back of one, and automatically lifted their weapons as they looked around. The front gate had two men guarding it, men wearing German uniforms. Watchtowers surrounded the camp, watchtowers manned by men in German uniforms. And the fences around the camp still had barbed wire on top of them, and seemed to be electrified. Then there were the men . . . Hundreds of them. Many hundreds of them — a good number dressed in fairly new American or British uniforms; the rest in remnants of uniforms from other nationalities and services. And walking around, apparently freely, were Germans, also in uniforms.
"Stand down, gents," Hogan said, noticing their gaze and stances. "Those," a hand at the guards and watchtowers, "are our men. A precaution in case we get any flyovers by German aircraft. The ones in German uniforms down here are the former guards. And these are Captain Witton, Captain Martin, Captain Warren and Captain Mitchell," he introduced the four officers who walked over, Witton in an RAF uniform, the other three in American uniforms.
Hogan turned to the officers, gesturing at the Germans climbing out of one of the trucks. "We brought back some unexpected company. Any place we could put them?"
"We could clear out a supply building," Martin said.
"Make them clean it out," Hogan said. "Captain Gruber!"
The former second-in-command walked over. "Jawohl, Colonel?"
"We'll use one of the supply buildings to house the prisoners," Hogan said. "One of the more isolated ones."
"The one by the delousing station?" Gruber suggested. "It is also close to the latrines, and easy to watch.
Hogan grinned. "Yeah, that'll work. They're under your command, Captain."
Gruber nodded. "They are hungry, Colonel. Most have not eaten in two or three days. Their garrison was destroyed by artillery a few days ago."
"Martin, we still have some Red Cross packages left, don't we?"
"Yes, sir." His eyes swept their new prisoners, counting them. "We can hand out two to each man. They'll be cold meals."
"It will still be better than their meals were at the garrison," Gruber said.
Mitchell," Hogan turned to the eagle-faced man.
"I know, Colonel," Mitchell said with a small smile. "Security detail to watch them."
"And search them too. Don't want anyone to get any funny ideas. Weapons and military items go to you. Money goes to Martin; keep a list. And no personal items like photos and wedding rings. If they're not sure, they go to you!"
"That's a given, Colonel," Mitchell said.
Hogan nodded as Mitchell waved over a group of Allied men to the trucks. "And make sure nobody says anything about the camp in English or German around them. Captain Gruber, get Cpl. Nagel and other men we can trust. I know we don't have any spare cots, but they can take blankets to the prisoners; it's still pretty cold at night. And have Nagel and the others keep their ears open."
Gruber nodded and walked with Martin and Mitchell back toward the unexpected prisoners.
"Warren, notify London of our new guests, Allied and German."
Warren smiled faintly. "Right, sir." He walked away.
A look at the muddied, unkempt Americans. "Think you can find a place where our guests can clean up?" Hogan asked Witton.
Witton smiled at the Americans. "Oh, I think so, sir. Where's the Kommandant?"
"Seeing to Schultz," Hogan said. "Schultz got caught in the crossfire. He'll be fine, but Doctor Bauer is keeping him at least until tomorrow. The Kommandant will be back later."
Witton nodded. "If you'll follow me, gents."
Hogan turned to Halsey. "I'll see you later, Lieutenant. Get comfortable first."
"Yes, sir. But first, sir," Halsey reached into his field pack, "this is for you." He handed Hogan a pouch.
"Me?" Hogan, looking a bit perturbed, took the pouch.
"Yes, sir. A present from General Hodges(1)."
Hogan and Witton exchanged looks.
"Well, that's new," Witton said.
A crooked smile. "Yeah, it is. See you later, gents."
"Yes, sir." Halsey and his men saluted.
With a smile, Hogan returned the salute. "Don't forget to tell them the house rules, Captain."
Witton smiled. "Yes, sir. This way, gents."
The American squad followed Witton as Hogan, a thoughtful look on his face, went into the office.
Hours later, the American squad had showered, shaved, gotten cleaned up, had a bite to eat, and relaxed. Now they were in Barracks Two, the one identified as Hogan's barracks, though Hogan was nowhere in sight.
Louis LeBeau, the French corporal, had just returned.
"How's Schultz doing, Louis?" Sgt. James Kinchloe, one of the Negroes in the barracks, asked the small man.
"Sleeping when we left," LeBeau said. "Doctor Bauer said he will be fine in a few days. He should be back tomorrow." Then a grin. "I told him I would make him some apple strudel."
"He'll be here if he has to walk," English Cpl. Peter Newkirk said.
Amid the laughter, the door opened. An Englishman walked over to Halsey and his squad. "Lieutenant, I'm Warrant Officer Samuelson(2). Colonel Hogan would like to see you and Sergeant Sands."
The two men nodded and rose; they followed the Englishman out.
The two Americans walked across the compound. It was still odd to the American squad to be in this former prisoner of war camp. From what they'd had heard, most of the men had been in the camp for years. They were walking not to the office as they supposed. Instead, they walked down the side of the building, past the little fence, into the yard and up the stairs.
"Hogan's quarters?" Sands asked.
"No, Sergeant, Kommandant Klink's," Samuelson said.
Brows raised among the following men.
"The Colonel stays here. Right?" Halsey asked.
"No, sir," Samuelson said. "Though he uses it sometimes during the day."
Again, odd looks passed between the men as they walked into the living room.
Colonel Hogan was there along with Captains Witton and Martin who, they had learned, were the senior captains in the camp, and Captain Mitchell who handled security for the camp. And, to their surprise, Kommandant Klink. Klink, his shirt off, was reaching for a clean one lying on the sofa. A very young German private in the room picked it up first and held it out for Klink. There were startled looks on the Americans' faces as they caught sight of Klink's back.
Hogan noticed their looks but ignored them as he greeted the men, "Lieutenant, Sergeant. Have a seat. Thanks, Samuelson."
"Sir." Samuelson nodded and left.
The two men sat at the table beside Martin and Witton. Hogan also took a chair as the German private left. Klink remained on the sofa, picking up a book, and taking care not to lean back. Halsey and Sands glanced at him, then at Hogan.
Hogan had the pouch before him. A smile as he asked the two men, "Know what's in this?"
"No, sir," Halsey said.
Hogan grinned. "They have plans for our little area. They'd like to set up a small supply center and a smaller evacuation hospital here."
"Makes sense," Witton said. "We're out of the way of the fighting; it's quiet. Or was."
Hogan frowned. "Yeah. But what do you think of their idea?"
A brief discussion of the pros and cons of the plan ended with the men agreeing that it might not be a bad idea.
"Kommandant?" Hogan turned to Klink to the open amazement of the visiting men.
Klink nodded slowly. "It is along the lines of something Doctor Bauer and I discussed this morning. Though his idea involves just a hospital."
Hogan mulled it over. "We'll talk about that later. But right now, I'm more concerned with what happened this morning." He turned to the two men.
Halsey and Sands explained their part, how they ran into Klink and what subsequently happened.
His eyes narrowed, Hogan turned to Klink for his story. It was told in terse, emotionless words.
Hogan said nothing after Klink finished, turning instead to the captains. "It looks like our safety zone has been breached. We're going to have to set up real patrols. Day and night around the perimeter."
"That shouldn't be a problem," John Mitchell said. "The camp arsenal now has enough weapons and ammunition to arm every man in camp."
"Yeah, but can they shoot?" Martin asked in a semi-joking voice.
Mitchell gave a grim smile. "Pat, Lt. Patterson I mean, has been working them day and night since we started. And let's face it, it doesn't take much to use a machine gun, which most of the weapons are." Mitchell looked at Hogan. "We can set up a system of passwords and safe routes that everyone, camp and townspeople, will have to use."
"And radio frequencies," Martin said. "Warren and I have mapped out a system for radio and phone communications."
"Good thing we finally got the phones working to Hammelburg, thanks to Warren, Kinch and Red Hand," Witton said.
"We'll also need to assign more men to Hammelburg," Mitchell said. "Olsen can't handle all of it, even with help from the Underground folks."
Hogan nodded. "How many fluent German speakers do we have?"
"Not enough," Mitchell said. "Not counting you and your men, I figure twenty-five at best can speak and understand it to the point of being useful."
"As long as nobody cares about their accents," Martin said. "Like the Mulcahy twins(3)."
Hogan winced. The one time the twins actually had to respond to a German call they nearly blew a mission; their Irish-accented German was atrocious.
"If we're just going to use them to relay messages to us," Mitchell began. "Maybe another fifty or so understand it reasonably well. It — "
"Okay," Hogan said. "Just get the men together later today with, uh — "
"Miller," Witton said.
"Miller, yeah; he did okay a few weeks ago, and his German is good. Come up with a plan we can present to the townspeople tomorrow." A glance at Klink, who nodded.
Mitchell exhaled loudly. "Short notice, Colonel."
"Yeah," Hogan had to admit. "But we can't have any more surprises like today. We got too complacent here. I got too complacent!"
"Well, sir," Martin said in a diplomatic voice, "you've been kind of busy over the past few weeks."
Hogan snorted. "Yeah. But . . ." He looked at the three captains, as he realized something. "It looks like you guys have been too."
"Well," Martin began.
"We got bored waiting for you to come back, sir," Mitchell grinned. "So we played a few mock scenarios for kicks. Though," a rueful scowl, "not this one!"
Klink's quiet voice intruded on what might have become an awkward exchange. "One other point, Colonel Hogan. For now, we have been isolated from the fighting. I do not yet know if the Germans are moving in this direction, but the Allies are sweeping the areas they have captured north and south of the Ruhr Pocket rather thoroughly. Any areas suspected of sheltering weapons or men are being destroyed by artillery or tank fire. The nearby armies must be made aware that this area is secured before they reach us. Otherwise . . . "
"Point taken," Hogan said in an equally quiet voice. "Martin, have Kinch contact London and ask General Edmondson for a conference with commanders of the approaching armies. We don't want any trigger-happy troops barreling through. Witton, you and Mitchell start working on securing the perimeter." He stood. "Well, we've got some things to think about. We'll talk more later."
"Yes, sir." The officers rose and left.
Halsey and Sands also stood and waited as Hogan turned to Klink.
"You know the area better than we do," Hogan said to him. "I'd like you to help Witton and Mitchell."
A thin smile. "Are you certain you trust me after this morning?"
Hogan smiled dryly. "As long as you don't make the same mistake again."
"I won't."
"I know." Hogan turned to the waiting men. "That's it for now, Lieutenant, Sergeant." He smiled. "Relax, have dinner, go to the recreation building. It'll take a couple of days before we figure out what we're doing. So, enjoy your visit."
"Yes, sir." Force of habit. The two men saluted before they left.
Hogan looked at the notes left by the captains and the map of the area. John Witton — in charge of the others, John Mitchell — security, Ed Martin — supplies, and Jerry Warren — communications.
Then a look at Klink. "They didn't come up with these ideas today, did they?"
Klink shook his head.
A deep breath. "And I never noticed. Just accepted that everything was fine. Until it wasn't."
"You had other concerns."
"Now you're being kind."
"Honest."
"Stop catering to my ego! I was wrong. We've got some 2500 men now, that's battalion strength. I should have noticed that the camp ran efficiently because I had men, officers, who made certain that it ran efficiently." His eyes narrowed. "But you noticed, didn't you? That's why you kept Martin, Warren and Mitchell instead of sending them to an Oflag(4). And the lieutenants . . . And me."
"I needed you to stop those ridiculous escape attempts every other day," Klink said with a faint smile.
A sudden grin. "Instead we had daily escapes running out of the camp."
"But not men from the official roster. Not from the toughest POW camp in Germany," Klink and Hogan finished together. And shared a laugh.
"Feel better?" Klink asked.
"Yeah." Then more quietly. "It was close today."
"Too close."
"Yeah. Look, we're contacting the Americans. Is there anyone you can contact to find out what's going on?"
"I stopped by the radio room when I came back. Sgt. Baker sent out a broad-spectrum coded message for information. My people have been monitoring the various armies ever since Operation Varsity(5). We should have something later today."
"If not, we'll keep monitoring all night. We need to know what's going on out there."
"Agreed."
"Mitchell and Witton will be by later with their plans. And I'd better get to the office. You, get some rest; you've had a busy morning."
"Is that an order, Colonel Hogan?"
"Of course. I am the ranking officer in town."
With that and a smile, Hogan left.
ENDNOTES
1) Lt. General in command of the US 1st Army
2) M. Hughes: Dress Rehearsal and Act Four
3) Act Four. M. Hughes: Dress Rehearsal
4) German POW camp for officers.
5) Massive air and land Allied operation north of the Ruhr. See Act Five, Scene 1.