Chapter 1 – Arrested

„Hochstetter just arrived!" Andrew Carter looked with alert back at his superior officer and the other three men, interrupting their work. Sharing glances, the core members of Colonel Robert E. Hogan's team closed the distance to the youngest of the gang and stopped beside him; throwing a careful look around the high fence that separated the motor-pool of the POW camp Stalag 13 from the rest of the guarded area.

Frowning and clasping his arms around him in his typical stance, Hogan watched how his personal nemesis, Wolfgang Hochstetter, major of the Gestapo, wasn't coming alone, but with four motor-bikes and three further cars following his own. The moment Hochstetter left his car and didn't walk towards Klink's office but scanned the area, Hogan knew something was wrong.

Very wrong!

Usually the major marched into the office of the Kommandant like he owned it. And often you could think it was true. Colonel (Oberst) Wilhelm Klink, commanding officer of the POW-camp Stalag 13, wasn't known to be the bravest or brightest officer within German's Luftwaffe (German Air Force). He rather bowed than stood up to something or someone, yet the man had his moments. Moments that Hogan knew how much they cost his German counterpart, yet Klink had his principles. Two of them were to protect his own men, and to protect the prisoners. Hogan was aware of the fact that the SS and the Gestapo would have loved to eliminate any enemy soldier and officer, despite the Geneva Convention, and that between them and their possible victims stood only the members of the Wehrmacht and within this army the unit Luftwaffe – including people like Klink.

Hochstetter had learned this the hard way, as anyone of Hogan's team knew by now, yet the Gestapo major was always good for surprises. Nasty surprises, mind you.

"Is it only me, but do you think 'ochstetter looks grimmer than ever?" LeBeau murmured as he stopped beside Hogan; his French accent heavier than usual because of his rising concern. Rubbing his hands, which were black with grease, he shivered in the cold air of the 11th of January's evening. Every one of them would love to return to their barrack to warm up, but first Klink's car had to undergo some repairs – for once for real reasons.

"He looks not only gimmer, but also… almost happy?" Sergeant Baker, second senior POW officer, had followed LeBeau and watched the Gestapo major.

"Yeah," Hogan nodded; feeling tension rising in his stomach. "And if something makes him happy, this something certainly is bad for us."

"What's the matter now, boys? Why do you stop working at Klink's car?" The voice with the strong Bavarian accent belonged to no-one else than Hans Schultz, Sergeant of the Guards and almost considered as a friend to Hogan and his men. The large German with the round and indulgent face stopped behind LeBeau and Hogan, while looking over their shoulders. Like usual he watched the prisoners when they were working within the camp, pretending not to know that he was more of a help for Hogan and his men than a guard, because of his principle to 'see and to hear nothing'. Just right now he did see a lot – and he didn't like it.

"What does he want here?" he grumbled; his dislike for the Gestapo and especially for Hochstetter clear in his tone.

"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling," Hogan murmured. Then he tensed, as Hochstetter's eyes met his. Both men had deep brown eyes, but where Hogan's usually sparked with mischief, love of life, quip and boyish humor, the major's were hard, piercing and flickering with constant contempt.

Especially when it came to Hogan.

So, it was no wonder that Hogan got a tiny shock, as the Gestapo officer began to smile the moment he saw him. And then the smile changed into something that looked scarily similar to a crocodile baring its teeth.

"Hogan!" Hochstetter all but bellowed; striding with large steps towards the American; eight of his companions followed him.

"Colonel, I don't like this," Kinchloe murmured; concern in his voice. He had a certain assumption that the Major's visit had to do with Hogan, and he instantly worried for his superior officer and best friend.

Hogan took a deep breath; the nasty feeling in his belly turning slowly into coldness. Yes, Hochstetter was up to something bad and it had to do with Hogan given the stare that was fixed on the American officer.

"Whatever happens: Stay down, fellas," he ordered quietly before he walked towards his nemesis. His own worry peaked even more as he watched the SS guards following Hochstetter; every one of them held a hand on the pistol grip.

"Good evening, Major," Hogan greeted. His voice sounded as casual as ever. "This late away from your headquarters?"

Hochstetter still smiled at him; his dark eyes hard as flintstone. "Yes, someone just chased me out of my comfortable office."

"Your assistant? You should fire him. Or was the dinner that bad that you want to try the food they serve here?" Hogan's smirk wasn't that impish like he grinned whenever he bantered with Klink. The latter was fun, with Hochstetter it was a constant dare. Yet he usually loved to drive the man right up the wall, but sometimes it had been better to retreat without making it look like flight, because Hogan always knew when an escape was the only way out. Especially when it came to the major.

Both men had developed a strange dislike to each other the moment they met. Hochstetter was a choleric person; short in build and in temper. Someone who not only suffered permanently of a too high blood pressure, but also of an ego big as the Mount Everest and a huge paranoia. Of the latter Hogan was convinced and he sometimes used it to gain advantages or to make the major act in a way the American colonel needed him to. And very often it was simply fun to bring the man to the boil, yet Hogan wasn't careless enough to underestimate the major. In his own way Hochstetter was dangerous – not only because of the power he had as a high-ranking officer of the Gestapo, but also of his quick-thinking mind and his intelligence.

The latter was shown again, as the major replied, "Food is a very good cue, Hogan. I got fed with information – information which finally proved something I already knew for a long time."

Something flared in the major's eyes, and the moment Hogan recognized it as triumph, Hochstetter already yelled towards his men, "Arrest him!"

Before Hogan could react, two of the black clothed guards were at his side. Strong hands twisted his arms backwards and out of instinct he reared up; trying to fight back. The grip on his arms became brutal and he stopped himself from crying out at the pain in his shoulders, while he felt cold metal encircling his wrists, followed by the click of the handcuffs being closed. Behind him he heard his men roaring in fury, and fear rose in him as several of the SS-guards turned around and drew their weapons; pointing them at his crew – his team, his friends.

"Men, stay down!" he shouted over his shoulder; fearing for his comrades more than for himself. "That's an order," he added for good measure. He heard the angry protests, mixed with a shocked sounding Schultz who tried to calm them. LeBeau was cursing in colorful French while Newkirk seemed to be at the edge of a raging fit, but at least they obeyed Hogan's command. Turning his attention back towards Hochstetter, the colonel felt a chill running down his back. His nemesis watched him with sinister glee that told Hogan more than he wanted: Hochstetter had finally found a legal reason to arrest him. And Robert Hogan didn't want to think of what would come within the next hours or days.

The major closed the small distance to him and straightened his short form. "I knew I would catch you one day, Hogan! I simply knew it! I'll mark this date red in my calendar for finally having enough proof to do what I should have done months ago: Arresting and questioning you before I send you to the firing squad." He lowered his voice to an ugly hiss. "Or even better to the gallows. Your death will be slower and more painful that way." The words were spit out with such venom and joy that there was no doubt left of his deep hate for the American officer.

Hogan stared at him; ignoring his hurting arms which were still gripped by the two guards and were edged back to a painful angle. "I don't know of what you accuse me now, but…" He wasn't able to finish his sentence, as his head was knocked aside, and a sharp pain stung in his right cheek. Hochstetter had just backhanded him – hard. The silver SS-ring Hochstetter wore, left a red stripe on the colonel's cheek. Hogan was more outraged then everything else, as he slowly turned his head back; eyes blazing. Behind him his men and other prisoners, which had left the barracks by now, were shouting insults and threats at the SS-men, but they remained where they were. Last but not least, because of the weapons which were aimed at them.

"Major Hochstetter, this goes too far!" Schultz shouted indignantly. It was clear that the soft-hearted man was torn between duty and his friendly feelings for the American colonel.

"You manhandle an official prisoner of war and of the Luftwaffe!" Hogan snarled at Hochstetter; not ready to give up. "That is against the Geneva Convention and…"

"Shut up, Hogan! A spy and saboteur had no rights he could…"

"You got the wrong man here, Major. Care to explain how I could do what you accuse me of when I'm nothing more than a prisoner of war and…"

"I don't buy your innocent act anymore!" Hochstetter raged and raised his hand for a second slap that never came, as a long slender hand closed around his wrist and stopped him.

"Have you finally gone completely mad?" The voice echoed with unmasked wrath and as Hogan looked over Hochstetter's shoulder his gaze found the furious face of the camp's Kommandant.

That Wilhelm Klink had left his office in haste was obvious, because despite the icy coldness and the rest of a cold he was sporting, he had refrained from slipping on his coat or to warm his balding head with a cap. Even the always present riding crop wasn't jammed under his arm.

"Klink, stay out of this!" Hochstetter ordered but was ignored. Klink's dark blue eyes flashed with unhidden anger, which even the monocle over his left eye wasn't able to make it look silly.

"How dare you to come to my camp and manhandle one of my prisoners, Hochstetter! I'll report you to Berlin for this!"

"Be careful that you won't be accused of supporting him which would make you face your own firing squad," the major answered arrogantly while wrestling his hand out of Klink's grip; nodding towards Hogan.

Usually, Klink would have winced and tried to make fun of a situation that could be risky for him. But to everyone's bafflement this wasn't the case this time. The Kommandant straightened his tall figure, while his gaze wandered over Hogan's face. Klink's already burning anger doubled as he saw the red bruise Hochstetter's backhand had left on the younger man's face he witnessed only seconds ago.

He always treated his prisoners with respect and protected them as well as he could, but when it came to Robert Hogan, Klink had developed a soft spot. A kind of soft spot he would be court materialled and certainly executed for if it ever would become officially known, yet he was powerless when this certain clever American with the attitude of an overgrown boy was involved. And contrary to the many situations in which Hogan had somehow managed to help him, just right now it was Hogan who was in need of rescue for once.

"And with what should I have supported Colonel Hogan, Major Hochstetter?" He looked straight in the shorter man's eyes with pure mockery. "In showing him what kind of resentful gnome you are? Believe me, this is well-known to whole Hammelburg and my camp."

It earned him some laughs and even applause from several prisoners, and he didn't need to look at his guards to know that they hid some smirks behind the impassive mask they were forced to put on when on duty.

Hochstetter stared with barely hidden contempt at Klink, while Hogan rose to speak,

"I swear, Kommandant, I have no idea of what the major is blaming me for this time," Inwardly he crossed his fingers that Klink would believe his innocent behavior. Actually, the American officer had a very good idea to what Hochstetter was referring to and it would mean his, Hogan's, certain death.

The major turned back towards him. "I blame you for all the sabotages and other unusual things which happened in this area in the last three years, Hogan, but this is nothing new. What really is new is the fact that I've now proof for it – and for this you will hang!" He glared at his men. "Take him to my car."

"Not so quick, Herr Major!" Klink interrupted him; blocking the way and straightening his body even more so that he towered a lot over Hochstetter. "This isn't the first time you state that you have some proof of Hogan being a spy or saboteur, and every time said proof went up in smoke."

"This time…" Hochstetter began but was interrupted firmly by Klink again.

"I really don't have to remind you that this is the toughest POW-camp in the whole Germany and that under my command there never has been a successful escape."

Hochstetter only chuckled ugly. "You forget that one prisoner escaped only a few weeks ago. Hauptmann Martin…"

"Was one of your spies and certainly got out because one of your guards let him," Klink cut in. "None of the real prisoner made it successfully out of Stalag 13 until now. So, tell me, how shall Hogan commit all the crimes you're accusing him of when he is here in my camp?"

Hochstetter lifted his chin arrogantly and a dangerous smirk played around his lips again. "That is exactly the point, Klink – and the reason why I warn you to stay out of this. There are only two possibilities: Hogan operated from here right under your nose with you being too blind and deaf to see and hear anything, or you're his accessory, what would make you a traitor who will be shot." He lowered his voice again. "It's your choice."

Hogan couldn't help himself, but wallowing the bad taste in his mouth. Everyone knew that 'courage' wasn't part of Klink's personal description. Rather the opposite. As human and fair the Oberst was – or tried to be – he was also a coward, who backed down immediately as soon as a situation could become the tiniest bit risky for him. Klink wouldn't throw his career – his life – away to protect Hogan. Hochstetter had the upper hand, and Hogan knew what this meant for him. He could only hope that he wouldn't have to suffer too long.

"Why don't you show me the proofs you have that Hogan is an Underground-agent?" Klink asked with false kindness; surprising everyone with his refusal to give in.

"Because," Hochstetter snarled, "every time I had proof they vanished. But not now! I'll take Hogan to the Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg, and I will question him until he doesn't know the difference between up and down anymore. And you will not stop me."

Klink only smiled for a second at him without saying anything, before he answered, "And there you are mistaken, my dear Hochstetter. Colonel Hogan is a POW of the Luftwaffe and as such he is my responsibility. You will not…"

"The Gestapo takes this responsibility from you, Klink," the major snarled. "Hogan will be brought to Hammelburg now. End of story." He nodded towards his guards which began to drag the American officer towards the staff car.

"You will not leave my camp with him!" Klink's voice rarely had sounded that strong and sharp – and Hogan wasn't the only one who looked with big eyes at him. Sweet Lord, what had gotten into the Kommandant?

Hochstetter blinked. What on Earth had happened to the usually backbone-less man? His eyes found Klink's, and he was even more surprised to see the steel in the Oberst's eyes. Klink wouldn't back down this time; this much the major realized. He had a few discussions with him before, and he had learned that Klink wouldn't give in when he had set his mind onto something.

"Your worry for Colonel Hogan is more than fishy, Klink. If I learn that you indeed supported his crimes, I'll shoot you instantly."

"And then you will have to answer to General Burkhalter and explain to him why you shot one of his officers without any trial," Klink answered icily. "The general hasn't forgotten that it was you who set off the caught Underground-agents in his own car because you thought the war was over."

Hochstetter's face turned red as he was reminded of his biggest failure that had almost cost him his position and freedom. Only because of his 'friends' in Berlin he had been allowed to keep his rank and to remain the commanding officer of the Gestapo and SS in Hammelburg. "As far as I remember you believed it, too!" he growled.

Klink smiled his sneaky grin at him. "Yes, but we had only a little party here in the camp. And shouldn't it be the Gestapo which knows everything? You believed it, too, and the decision to let the arrested agents drive away in your car was your idea!"

"No, it was Hogan's idea!" Hochstetter raged. The finger he pointed at the American colonel shook with wrath.

"Since when do you listen to what I suggest?" Hogan asked innocently.

"Bah!" the major screamed. "Shut. Your. Trap!"

Klink pursed his lips. Yes, it had indeed been Hogan's idea to let the arrested men and women go, but it was his duty as soldier and officer to aid his own people and allies. Just like he certainly had done several times, even in his position as a POW. Taking a deep breath, the Oberst's gaze found Hogan's. "Have you anything to tell me before this whole situation with the little henpeck here escalates?"

Hogan moistened his lips. He was grateful that Klink stood up against Hochstetter to defend him, but there was no way that he could admit anything to him. The lives of his men were at stake, and even if he couldn't save himself, at least he could try to protect his friends.

"As I said, Kommandant, I have no clue why the major all of sudden thinks he has some proof of me being a saboteur or spy." And this wasn't a complete lie. For once the American colonel and his crew weren't responsible for any sabotage that might have happened in the area. For a few days now, London had given them no new task despite of a transfer of a little information from the Hammelburg Underground Newkirk had retrieved for them. The last stunt of the Unsung Heroes – or 'Hogan's Heroes', as they were called now by London and the other Allies now – had woken too much suspicion and London didn't want to risk the whole mission. Well, risk was the biggest part in Hogan's job description, but there was a fine line between risk and recklessness.

Yet it was always dangerous to run a ring of espionage – especially when you have your base placed in a POW-camp, invisible to the ears and eyes of the guards and the presented officers. And to accomplish missions for which you have to leave and return to said camp was an additional risk that demanded even more from his men and himself. That one of them would be caught one day hadn't been a question of 'if', but 'when'.

And obviously this day had now arrived – and Hogan hadn't the smallest idea what or who had set Hochstetter on the correct tract.

Klink only nodded at Hogan's words. "As I thought. There is no way that you're an active part of the Underground." He looked at Hochstetter. "I will come with you."

"Whaaat?" The major stared at him like he suddenly had grown two pairs of wings and three heads.

"You heard me: I am coming with you. I will make certain that Hogan will be treated correctly while you show me your so-called proof. Only then I will decide what to do."

Hochstetter stemmed his fists in his waist. "Be careful, Klink. I could 'decide' to arrest you, too."

"Yes, you can decide this," the Oberst affirmed. "And then you'll have to answer to General Burkhalter, like I already told you." He raised his voice. "Schuuuuultz!"

"Yes, Herr Kommandant?" Schultz answered instantly; walking quickly towards the group. Hogan's men followed him, despite the fact that several of the SS-guards aimed their weapons especially at them.

"You are in charge until I'm back – hopefully with Colonel Hogan."

"Don't be too sure of it," Hochstetter growled, but was ignored.

"If I'm not back by eight o'clock tomorrow morning, call General Burkhalter and tell him what happened." Klink's gaze found Hochstetter's again. "I'm certain the general would love to bring some order to the mess you're calling your headquarters."

That the Luftwaffe and the Gestapo despised each other was an open secret, and Klink made no bones about his great dislike for men like Hochstetter, the Gestapo in general and the SS. In his eyes they were a shame to Germany, and nothing else.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, you're the officer in charge of the POWs until Colonel Hogan is back," Klink addressed the oldest man with the second highest rank among the prisoners. "Please make certain that your men stay calm."

"But Kommandant…" Carter began to protest.

"You heard Colonel Klink. Stay down until we're back," Hogan interrupted him while giving him and Kinchloe a pointed glance. Both men and the others all knew the real order beneath those words. If he didn't come back, they would have to clear any evidence that could give them away – meaning they would have to destroy all the equipment they had installed over the last three years – and then to escape. It would mean leaving him behind but they had all known the risk when they had agreed to start their Underground missions.

"We've lost enough time," Hochstetter cut in. Gripping the colonel's arm, he scoffed, "Maybe you should say good bye to your men. You will never see them again."

To the major's anger, Hogan only smirked his infuriating grin at him, before he called, "Fellas, keep the coffee warm for me. I just have to make a short trip to Hochstetter's office and I'm back for the midnight dinner."

A low growl escaped the major's throat. "Take Hogan to my car!" he ordered; ready to stomp his foot as Hogan simply continued to grin.

Even if every one of the colonel's core team – and the many prisoners which had built a circle around them in the meantime – had to laugh about the dry joke Hogan just made, not one of them took the situation lightly. Those who knew him best – his four friends – were aware that this was Hogan's very own way to deal with stress.

And there was a further man who had come to know the colonel better than thought. "Hogan, this is not helping," Klink told him quietly. Both men looked at each other and the Oberst felt the familiar bolt in his heart whenever he met those usually sparkling, chocolate eyes. But it was quickly replaced with a cold twinge of anxiety as he had to watch how Hogan was roughly forced towards the waiting cars.

'God help us all if Hochstetter should be right about you, Hogan. It would be not only your death, but mine, too,' he thought, before he followed the group; his walk for once not stooped like usual.

'He's really accompanying us on his own free will,' Hochstetter wondered. 'There is more at stake for him than losing his senior POW officer to the Gestapo. And I ask myself what's so important for him.'

He watched how the taller man shivered in the cold wind and sneered, "Have you misplaced your coat, Klink, or…"

"I do think the rust bucket you call a car as a heating system. Or could it be that Himmler gave you Gestapo-boys a simpler car equipment than Göring gave the Luftwaffe?" Klink taunted back.

"I only fear that your cold will get worse again," Hochstetter said with false kindness. "I heard that your sneeze can trigger an avalanche, and I don't want to spend the night on the road."

Klink turned red – half with embarrassment, half with anger. It was seven days ago that the main-road to Hammelburg had been blocked effectively by an avalanche after many days of heavy snow-fall. General Strommberg had wanted to send the Third Panzer Division this way and had demanded from Klink that his prisoners shovel the street free. That night they had stayed at the closed 'Hofbräu' because the snow had been too much. Klink still knew that Hogan had tried to trigger the feared avalanche by playing music with his men in the taproom, hoping that the noise would be enough to do the trick. And the Kommandant was still convinced that this – and only this! – had provoked the white flood coming down the hill, and not his sneezing!

This incident had been another thing that should have woken his anger concerning Hogan and his never-ending plans to help the Allies even in his position as a POW, but it didn't. Not really. It was Hogan's duty as an officer to fight whenever possible. And, by the way, Klink had despised Strommberg who forced him to join the whole thing despite the fact that he, Klink, had come down with a nasty cold.

Until today he wasn't really fit, like the itching in his nose proved. A moment later he sneezed – and Hochstetter promptly used it for further mocking.

"Don't, Klink! The roofs are full of snow and seeing the way you spoil your prisoners you don't want them to shovel the doors to their barracks free this late at day."

The Oberst shot him a furious glare, but it was Hogan who interrupted the upcoming quarrel. "Don't tell me the whole escort is only for me, Major," he scoffed; nodding his head at the rider of the motorcycles and the three other cars. "I thought only the tiny man with the small moustache gets such attention."

"Shut up, Hogan, or I'll make you!" Hochstetter yelled; his face reddening again.

"For God's sake, Hogan, don't annoy him even more!" Klink said exasperated; shooting the younger man a begging glare, before he climbed onto the car's back seat. Hogan was shoved inside beside him. One of the guards opened the shackle around his left wrist and used the free handcuff to chain his right hand to the inner handle of the door. The second guard held the colonel at gun point the whole time.

No, this wasn't only 'not good', this was worse. The situation was more than grave, and Hogan's mouth went dry again. Hochstetter was serious which could only mean one thing: He really had something against Hogan in his hands. And this gave the colonel the chills for once.

"Is this really necessary?" Klink demanded, pointing to Hogan's handcuffs as Hochstetter took the front passenger seat.

"He's the most dangerous man in all Germany. So – YES! – it is necessary," the major snapped back; relishing in the anxious faces of Hogan's men, while the car began to move.

For a moment Hogan ignored his nemesis and looked out the window. His gaze found his team – the men he had gone with through thick and thin, and which were far more to him by now than subordinates. They had become close friends – family even. And it was really possible that he wouldn't see them ever again. Sorrow spread through him at the mere thought – sorrow and fear that he quickly suppressed.

His glance found the pale face of the youngest member of his team, Carter; the outraged ones of LeBeau and Newkirk, and the deeply worried one of Kinchloe, and the shocked one of Baker, who stepped in for Kinchloe at the radio-station if necessary. Sweet Lord, he even hadn't been able to bid them good-bye for real. He could only hope that they would be able to escape before hell broke loose, because if Hochstetter really had proof that Hogan was an Underground-agent – even the most wanted one going by the code-name 'Papa Bear' – the Gestapo would tear Stalag 13 apart.

As Hochstetter's car was turned around, the colonel's look found the big figure of Schultz, and new sadness rose in him. 'Take him with you, fellas,' he thought to himself. 'Our large teddy-bear will be shot otherwise, and this damn war already took too many good men.'

Then the driver stepped on the gas and the car headed towards the gates – accompanied by the other vehicles. Hogan once had joked that he would leave the camp through the main-gates one day, yet he hadn't imagined it would be because of being arrested by the Gestapo and facing torture and certain death. He didn't lie to himself. If the Gestapo had someone in their clutches they wouldn't stop at anything to get the truth out of their victim. And Hochstetter would love to break Hogan, even if the colonel would put up resistance to his very last breathe.

Moistening his lips, Robert Hogan leaned back in the seat and prevented himself from throwing one last glance back at the camp he had called 'home' for almost three years now. He didn't want to think of the possibility that he would not return to this place. Fear was a bad adviser and just right now he needed a clear and steady head more than ever before if he wanted to get out of this. Yes, he was grateful that Klink stood up for him and went with them now to defend him, but when the going would get rough, the man would be no help for Hogan. The Gestapo – Hochstetter – didn't know any mercy, and Klink would indeed be risking his neck if he tried to get into Hochstetter's way.

No, Hogan knew that he was on his own in this case – and this time he hadn't the tiniest idea how get his head out of the loop that had been already placed around his neck. But somehow, he had to try to avert the disaster that was spreading its dark wings above him and his friends.

Somehow.

The only question was: How?

With fear and fury, the four men Hogan called 'his core-team' watched how Hochstetter's staff car began to move and took their beloved superior with it. They all knew what this could mean for Hogan – what certainly lay ahead for him.

"We… we can't allow this," Carter pressed out; feeling helpless.

"We've to help him!" Newkirk agreed.

Especially in a situation like his.

"Schultzie, you have to do something," LeBeau addressed the big guard; looking almost pleadingly at the Bavarian.

"And what should or could I do?" Schultz answered quietly; his worry plain to hear in his voice. "There is nothing we can do at the moment." He glanced at the four POWs he secretly considered friends, saw the despair in their eyes and gulped. He hated it when those four – no those five, Hogan included – were unhappy. Long ago he had realized what fine men they were, and he didn't care that war had put him and them on different sides. Here, inside of the camp, was their own little world that didn't stick too close to the madness that was going on outside, and Schultz always had tried to treat the POWs fair – and mostly gentler than it was allowed.

And just right now he felt very sorry for them – worrying about their leader like this. Straightening his frame, he said quietly to comfort them, "Oberst Klink will not allow that any harm befalls Colonel Hogan. He'll protect him, be sure of it."

"Dear God, Klink can't even protect himself," Newkirk raged. "A few loud words from Hochstetter and he bows like a willow in the wind. How could he defend Ho…"

Schultz turned around to him; frowning. "This is not a nice way to speak of our Kommandant, Newkirk. Klink may seem to you cowardly, but he is braver than you all think. He wants to survive this damn war, but still stays true to his own notions. And for this he dances between the raindrops, but only to a certain degree. He has some limits after all." He watched the convoy leaving the camp. "And one of those limits is Colonel Hogan. If the colonel is really threatened, Klink doesn't take any joke."

"They do respect each other in a certain way," Kinchloe admitted, "but I don't think Klink would take any bigger risk only to save the colonel's neck."

"And here is where you are wrong, Kinchloe," Schultz said softly. "Very wrong." Concern made him look older than he was. "Klink would take any risk to keep Hogan safe – but this is something you won't understand."

LeBeau blinked in confusion. "What do you mean, Schultzie?"

"Yeah, why should Klink grow a backbone all of sudden only for the colonel?" Carter nodded.

The sergeant opened his mouth to answer, but then he quickly shook his head. "I know nothing. Nooottthhhiiiinng!"

The truth was that Schultz knew a lot in this special case. More than anybody else for the last year since he became aware of it, but like always he knew when to stay silent. Especially when it came to Klink and his secret – a secret Schultz couldn't really understand but he accepted it. He was aware of the fact that it would disgrace and put Klink into a deadly position if anybody would ever learn of his feelings.

Schultz sometimes imagined how it had to be to live with the constant fear of being revealed. And to suppress your own yearnings was certainly horrible, too. This knowledge was enough to make the sergeant stay silent. Yes, Hans sometimes complained about his superior officer, but he would never endanger the man on purpose. For this he liked Klink too much – a man who had been a hero during World War I, was now called a coward behind his back and was in truth still braver than many other men Schultz had met.

He only hoped everything would turn out well for his Kommandant and the American colonel, otherwise there would be a lot of hurt on all sides – not to speak of death that was looming a little bit closer than it usually did in these dark times…

TBC…