A/N: Hi, folks. Sorry for being MIA for so long, but I'm currently trying to focus and work through some mental issues, and writing has been a struggle, too. I'm still on my writing hiatus, but I wrote this story a while back, and I thought it's about time to put it out to the world to read. My sequel to it is Hogan's backstory and biography, but first, we get to see the many events and adventures our beloved camp kommandant experienced before World War II began. Some of it is funny, some of it is sad, but the ending is a happy one. I hope you enjoy learning more about Klink's life and leave a review below. Happy reading!

Violent wind. Down pouring rain. The constant rumble and booming of angry thunder. Everyone at Stalag 13 could have sworn Hammelburg was being hit by a category four hurricane. The weather was so monstrous that the guards in the watch tower had been ordered by Schultz to evacuate and take cover in the guards' dormitory. In fact, almost half of the night patrol had been ordered to abandon their posts and return to the dormitory until the storm passed over come morning. The remaining guards had taken cover in the prisoner barracks they were guarding, while Schultz and Langenscheidt stood underneath the awning of the kommandant's office, bundling themselves with their sopping wet rain coats and trying to keep their umbrella shields from breaking in the wind.

In the kommandant's quarters, Klink sat quietly on his sofa reading a book, while his daughter slept in her room. He flipped through a page in his book, using the lamp sitting beside him as his only source of light, when the door to his quarters came flying open, and Hogan tried to quickly make his way inside. It took all his strength to get the door to close again, locking both locks to ensure it did not abruptly open. The American shook off his drenched umbrella, which appeared as if it had just gotten spit out from a raving tornado. His leather jacket was dripping with water, and his crush cap was practically soaked through. Even his shoes and socks were drenched with water.

Seeing his peace and quiet had been disturbed, Klink set his books aside and gave his American counterpart an irritated glance. "Colonel Hogan, what do you think you're doing here? I told all prisoners they were confined to their barracks until this storm passed over." He berated.

"Sorry, Kommandant, but my room back in the barracks has a terrible leak due to the storm. Thought it would be a bit more dry in your quarters…" Hogan began to shiver and wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. "And less chilly." He added.

"So you decide it's a brilliant idea to go out in this storm, march all the way over to my quarters, and track in a bunch of water on my newly cleaned carpet," Klink answered, briefly glaring at the large trail of water the sopping colonel was leaving in his living room.

"Kommandant, please, I'm freezing here. Can't we continue this argument once I dry off?" Hogan remarked, doing all he could to keep himself from chattering his teeth.

Klink let out a surrendering sigh, feeling slightly bad for his Senior POW as he sat there and watched him shake violently, then rose to his feet. "Alright, Hogan. Follow me into my bedroom, and I'll grab you some dry clothes and a towel for your hat to dry off on," he said, with the gesture of his hand.

Hogan gratefully followed him into the warm bedroom and watched as Klink grabbed out a pair of black pants, socks, and a baggy white, button-up shirt with long sleeves and lay them on his bed, kicking out a pair of black slippers from underneath his bed towards Hogan. "You change into these, leave your uniform in my bathroom to dry, and I'll grab you a towel from the linen closet out in the hall," Klink instructed.

Hogan nodded. "Thank you, Kommandant."

Klink exited his bedroom to let Hogan change in private, while he grabbed a warm, fluffy white towel as promised from the hallway linen closet. He walked back into the living room and lay the towel on another stand next to a chair across from the sofa, when Hogan emerged from the bedroom about ten minutes later in dry clothes and his damp crush cap in hand. He walked over to the towel and dried his face and neck off before setting it back down and placing his cap on top of it, then he sat down in the chair and sighed with relief.

"Oh, this feels a lot better," Hogan said, soaking in all the warmth his new clothes and the furnace was providing him. He opened his eyes again when he felt something fuzzy being put in his lap, and he saw Klink covering him up with a crochet white blanket.

"There," the kommandant said, satisfied with his work. He sat back down in his spot on the sofa. "Last thing I need is you catching pneumonia."

"Thank you, Sir," Hogan said sincerely, then looked down at the blanket. He pulled it up a bit more until it was halfway across his belly and placed his hand on his middle before looking back at Klink. "Did you make this, Kommandant?"

"No, my mother did," Klink answered, placing his hands in his lap. "She's always sending me blankets and scarves and gloves. Always worried I'll get too cold standing out in the snow for roll calls."

Hogan smirked. "That's mothers alright," he said. "In fact, Mom wouldn't let my brother or I leave the house in the winter unless we were covered head to toe in winter clothing. Jackets, gloves, hats, scarves; we had to wear all of it. Of course, that was until high school, then Dick and I would ditch our hats once we reached campus so we wouldn't get laughed at by the other kids."

"See Hogan, you cause nothing but trouble. It goes all the way back to when you were even a child. One of these days you're going to put yourself in some real hot water, and no one will be able to save you from it." Klink scolded, wagging his finger at the American as if he were a small boy.

"Oh, come on, Kommandant; we were teenagers. Don't tell me you never did anything stupid or naughty as a kid."

"Never."

Hogan cocked his head to the side and gawked at the older colonel for the longest time. Finally, Klink broke and let out a sigh. "Alright, fine. I broke some rules here and there. But I always listened to what Mama said. If we disobeyed Mama, she sent Papa after us, and nobody was happy after Papa was sent after us."

"Name one time you really disobeyed your parents," Hogan said, eager to hear more.

Klink pursed his lips and crossed his legs as he thought back to some of the naughty things he did as a child. One event really struck out at him, and he began to elaborate to Hogan. "I was eight years old," he started. "Wolfgang and I wanted to go out with our friends in the snow and toboggan down this huge hill in the park that stooped down by a frozen pond. Mama and Papa forbid we do such a stupid thing, but...at the time, it just sounded too fun not to do."

(Dusseldorf, Germany - January 1902)

11-year-old Wolfgang Klink was the first of seven boys to toboggan down the steep hill in Klappert Park and were competing to see who could go the farthest across the pond. Among those seven boys was 8-year-old Wilhelm Klink and his best friend, Rudolf Schneider, whom Wilhelm called by the nickname 'Rudi'.

Little Wilhelm had thick black hair just like his older brother, but he had gentle blue eyes instead of Wolfgang's bright brown ones. He and Rudi, who also had black hair, were much smaller than the other boys and quietly watched the next two of Wolfgang's friends sleigh down the hill and across the frozen pond. After the third of Wolfgang's friends went down, Rudi followed and almost slid to where Wolfgang's sleigh had come to a stop.

The older Klink proceeded to pick up a construction cone near the edge of the pond and picked it up to use as a blow horn. "Up next we have the scaredy cats of all scaredy cats. Everybody give it up for my little brother Wilhelm!" Wolfgang cried, causing the rest of his friends to split their sides laughing.

"I'm not scared," Wilhelm remarked snooty. To prove it, he tried to make his toboggan sleigh go faster than everyone else had so far. Unfortunately for little Wilhelm, his plan made a huge backfire against him. Halfway down the hill, the little boy began to lose his grip on the sleigh and caused himself to get off balance. As he neared the bottom, Wilhelm fell off the sleigh with a yelp and tumbled down the rest of the way, while his sleigh finished the rest of the ride solo.

Eventually Wilhelm came to a stop, but got his head stuck in a pile of snow near the edge of the pond. It took a full tugs before he was finally able to free himself, and he shook his head to clear it of the excess snow and dizziness that swept around his head. Rudi was quickly at his side, making sure his best friend was alright, while Wolfgang and his friends began to burst out laughing.

While Rudi glared at them in fury, Wilhelm's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as a long frown came to his face. "Oh," the little Klink moaned. "I'm gonna try that again."

"Forget it, Wilhelm," Rudi answered, putting a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "You could've really hurt yourself with that fall. Who knows what next time might lead to."

Wilhelm looked at Rudi for a long moment, when a loud and angry voice boomed across the park. "WOLFGANG! WILHELM! Was zum Teufel denkt Ihr beide was Ihr tut?!" (1)

Little Wilhelm's eyes widened with horror as he watched his father, retired General Otto Klink, storm over towards them as he abandoned his groceries from the market on the sidewalk.

"Uh oh," Wilhelm quivered, swallowing a large lump down his throat. He knew the infuriated look on his father's face all too well. He and Wolfgang were in for it now. The two would be lucky enough if their father did not decide to kick them out on the front lawn tonight to sleep on...right after both boys were screamed at till their ears bled, at least. Then there was Mama, who had been dead serious on the two boys not tobogganing down the hill and onto the pond. Not only would they have to sleep in the cold wind and snow, they would also go to sleep without dinner.

"Party over," one of Wolfgang's friends said, while the older Klink himself simply stood there and stared at his father with a blank expression, his dark brown eyes flickering with the intense fear he was doing so well at keeping beneath the surface.

General Klink stopped at the edge of the pond and made his angry stare first to all of Wolfgang's friends and Rudi. "Get lost!" He barked. "And you better hope I don't tell your parents about this little incident!"

Without hesitation, Wolfgang's friends and Rudi quickly grabbed their sleighs and made a run back to their houses, Rudi briefly stopping to make sure once more that Wilhelm was alright...physically, at least. He gave his best friend a comforting smile to reassure him it would be alright, then darted after the other boys and back to his house.

Once alone with his boys, General Klink made his eyes to his oldest and pointed his finger in the direction of their house. "Get walking," he ordered. "You can explain to your mother why you're home early."

Wolfgang hung his head and let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, Father," he answered, half-depressed and half-irritated. He made a head start for the house, leaving the retired general with his youngest. General Klink made his sharp blue eyes to Wilhelm, who by now was standing. No words were exchanged. No hollering or harsh gestures. Just silence.

Wilhelm gave a long frown, deeply disappointed with himself that he had gone behind his parents' back, and hung his head in shame. He silently walked over to the sidewalk and picked up one of the two bags his father had been carrying back from the market. He began to sulk his way back to the house, when his father caught up with him and stopped him by calling his name in a serious, yet softer tone of voice.

"Wilhelm," the general said.

Wilhelm looked up at his father, who knelt down in front of him and looked at him with a disappointed look to his wrinkled face. He shook his head. "Why do you insist on doing these shenanigans with your brother? You know they're nothing but trouble."

The little Klink scuffed his boots back and forth on the snowy covered concrete, not able to look his father in the eyes by how ashamed he was of himself. "Because I want to be cool like Wolfgang is, Papa," he finally answered softly. "I'm the laughing stock in school, and Wolfgang is the most popular kid in his grade. I want to be popular, too."

General Klink let out a soft breath of air and put one of his large hands on the boy's shoulder. "Wilhelm, my boy, popularity is not all it makes itself out to be," he told him. "I was popular at the military academy way back when, and I hated every second of it. You never get any time to have some peace and quiet, you're always being dragged to some wild party that's more trouble than it's worth...sometimes I was terrified just to say my given name because I knew I would attract attention."

The Klink family was well known at the military academy for generations of their excellent service. Wilhelm's grandfather, Ludwig Klink, was one of the most honored and looked up to officers in the entire German army. He had received a permanent limp in his right leg after being severely injured in battle and retired with the rank of General of the Army. Just the name Klink earned you a bit of prestige in Germany. Otto being one of Ludwig's four sons, popularity had followed him throughout his entire education and military school. He had never been happier than the day he finally retired from the service and was able to live civilian life as a storekeeper.

"You didn't like being popular, Papa?" Wilhelm asked, completely baffled.

"Goodness no," the general said. "Popularity is vastly overrated, Wilhelm. Besides, all those friends cause nothing but drama. You've already got a good friend there that's better than a hundred friends."

Wilhelm gave a small smile as he thought of Rudi. "Yeah, he is, isn't he. I wouldn't trade Rudi for anybody," he answered proudly.

General Klink smiled back at his boy and gently patted his shoulder. "Good," he said, then gestured with his head towards the house. "Now get going. If your mother sees Wolfgang walk into that house alone and learns what happened, she'll have a panic attack wondering what happened to you."

"Jawohl, Papa," Wilhelm said, with a firm salute. He picked his bag back up and hurried down the street, his father following from behind with an amused grin to his face.

(1) Was zum Teufel denkt Ihr beide was Ihr tut - What the hell do you two think you're doing?!