Hi, my dear readers!
I knew that the last chapter would elicit an emotional rollercoaster and given the feedback I was right. I loved to write those scenes and I'm glad that you liked it so much.
I think the new chapter will fulfill the one's or other's dream / wish – just look at the title (*snicker*). This is certainly something the most of us wanted to happen during the TV-show, after all Hochstetter is really the biggest pain in the a… (you know the word). A little disclaimer: In this chapter a real historical person is mentioned and has an inactive role at the phone.
But there is also a very sweet scene in the beginning, and I hope you're going to love it.
Have fun
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 13 – Hochstetter's fall
Klink sat in the right backseat of the staff-car and didn't pay any attention to Schultz speeding the car down the street. Hogan leant heavily against him – head against the Oberst's shoulder, eyes closed, breath still raspy. The moment the car had begun to move, Klink had forgone all caution and had given into his urges to comfort the younger man in any way possible. Carefully as to not inflict even more pain on Hogan, he had wrapped both arms around the colonel and softly held him close – taking care that the blanket covered the American. Leaning his own head gently against Hogan's, which made the cap slide away, he whispered words of solace.
Hogan still trembled – with coldness, pain and shock – yet he seemed to have calmed down somewhat. Maybe the icy yet fresh air had helped him, or his mind had somehow realized that the danger was over. In any case he wasn't panicking anymore, yet Klink assumed that only a little thing would be enough to send the younger man over the edge again.
And he was right about his assumption.
Hogan didn't really know where he was or what was happening to him. His mind was still numb as even the hard training he had undergone before he started his mission in Germany didn't kick in this time. Everything around him was foggy and surreal. Everything hurt, everything was cold, everything was dark and…
And then long arms enveloped him carefully and tenderly. He thought he could feel another body half beneath his own – solid, warm and inviting. A heartbeat thumbed gently near his ear, while a hand began to cup his left cheek and stroke lovingly over the bruised skin. He forced his eyes open but could see nothing else than something that seemed to be a window with movements behind it and there was blue at the edge of his sight. He thought he heard a whimper – and just like before in the cellars he didn't realize that the sounds were made by him.
"Sh-sh, hon, you're going to be okay. You're safe now. I know everything hurts, but it will be better soon. I promise."
He knew this voice. He had heard it before – after the coldness and darkness enveloped and devoured him. He had heard it afterwards, as there was some light and warmth again, yet he hadn't been able to breathe and…
Breathe…
He could still breathe, couldn't he? Fearing that air would be cut off again, he tried to gulp as much oxygen into his body as quickly as possible. He became dizzy and nauseous, then the voice was back.
"Hush, Robert, there is no need to panic. You are safe now – enough air to breathe, no more pain, no threats." Something warm, gentle and utterly soft touched his left temple – a pair of lips.
A kiss.
A kiss was a good thing – it meant safety, belonging, love… Things which had been denied him, but were now given back. He felt the dread begin to retreat as the gentle lips remained – speaking of affection, security and protection. His tensed muscles gave in and he wasn't aware that he all but melted into those long arms and the warm body beneath him. Something whispered at the edge of his mind; that he had to be strong and that he had to fight, but his soul outgrew his deeply rooted sense of responsibility for once and relished in the tender comfort that was offered to him. The almost three years of being permanently in danger, risking the lives of his men and his own day by day, and the fact that so many people depended on him, were finally taking their toll. And now, for once, he gave into his wish of letting go.
Klink could sense how much Hogan was yearning for physical and psychical warmth – the knowledge of being safe. And, to say the truth, he needed to feel Hogan being alive just like the colonel needed a safe harbor in return.
The Oberst knew that he had come in at the very last moment. A minute more and Hogan would have been too far gone to be brought back. Hogan would be dead now – drowned like an animal by a man who had always been a madman in the Kommandant's eyes, but now Klink regarded the Gestapo-officer as a monster. No sane human with an intact soul left could do what the major had done to Hogan – to another human being.
Klink felt sick to his stomach when he thought of the many injuries which had been inflicted on the colonel – and he knew he had only seen a part of them. Given the state Hogan was in, Klink realized that his American counterpart had been brought to his limits and he prayed that Robert hadn't been pushed over his breaking point. He wouldn't bear it to see the cheerful, clever, witty and boyish man broken.
Then he heard Hogan's breathing quicken up again, and he sensed the returning panic even before the colonel began to heave for air. Having been interested in medicine since he was a boy, Klink had read some articles about people who had almost drowned and knew that they often got anxiety attacks shortly after the almost deadly experience. It was a trauma the Oberst hoped Hogan would overcome within the next hours – or days – otherwise the colonel's mind would need to heal very much longer.
Cocking his head to have a look at the American's half visible face and the good eye, he saw horror shimmering in the dark orb and pulled the younger man closer to himself. Whispering further words of caring, he gave into the most natural impulse and pressed his mouth against Hogan's icy and still damp temple; moving his lips gently and slowly to transfer peace and love towards the one who held his heart. He didn't care that maybe he was giving himself away should Hogan be more aware of his surroundings than assumed. All that mattered was soothing the man he loved.
And then he felt the tense muscles relax and something close to relief rushed through him as Hogan's full weight was pressed against him. Robert was calming down – finally. Combing the fingers of his right hand gently through the wet dark strands and ignoring the unpleasant burning of his bruised knuckles, he brushed a second kiss against the younger man's cheek this time, murmuring further words of comfort. He heard Hogan sigh, cradled his head in his hand and rocked the other man very softly. He knew from his own experiences in his teens that this helped a lot.
Schultz grumbled something like 'damn snowy road' and, remembering that he wasn't alone, Klink looked up. His and Schultz' gaze met in the rear-view mirror.
The sergeant's eyes shone with understanding and compassion before they returned straight towards the street. Klink knew that Schultz would stay silent about this little slip of caution, and he was grateful for the other man's good heart. There weren't many people who would tolerate the Kommandant's feelings towards someone of the same gender – and above all towards a POW who was even under suspicion of being a spy and saboteur.
Klink pursed his lips as he thought about the reason for this whole mess.
Hochstetter had mainly pointed out Hogan's alleged visit in Hammelburg last Monday, but this was only one incident of a lot the major referred to earlier. Contrary to what his superior and other officers thought, Klink wasn't stupid. He was well aware that many very odd things happened in the area – or that Hogan was somehow involved in the strangest things which were going on in the camp.
Klink remembered the mass-escape when he was on holiday and he was barely back, all escapees returned as if nothing happened – and he, Klink, could keep his position that had been at stake because of his temporary substitute Oberst Krüger who led the camp with a real iron fist and wanted to oust Klink. The latter turned into thin smoke after 30 POWs escaped. Well, giving it all a second thought and recalling Burkhalter's grousing afterwards, there certainly had been a further reason for this 'mass-escape' and sudden return. It had bound the whole 6th SS-Division for days, which delayed their next mission – an operation that was later lost because the Allies had rebuilt adequate reinforcements when the confrontation finally took place. Maybe stalling the 6th Division's leave had been the real intention, yet it also had saved his – Klink's – position.
And there were more incidents in which Klink had escaped a transfer to the Russian Front by a hair's breadth. Whenever the Oberst was in need of gaining the better regard of Burkhalter or other staff officers, something weird happened that made the Kommandant shine in a better light – and Hogan almost always pulled the strings.
Then there were the moments when Hogan warned him or told him of something that would happen within the next minutes and said thing became promptly real. Or people, who were a danger to Klink, simply vanished on their way back to Berlin.
And there had been the few times Hogan had acted outside of the camp – directly in front of Klink's eyes. All right, most of the times the Oberst had even given his permission for it, but there had also been incidents in which the American had taken an active part in things outside of Stalag 13 of which Klink learned by simple accident.
One of those events were still very fresh in his mind, and it had given him sleepless nights afterwards.
Almost a year prior he had been more or less blackmailed by two SS-officers who demanded 5000 Marks as a donation for a project Hitler planned for Berchtesgaden, otherwise they would put him on the 'black list' – a list that would hold the names of those officers who didn't 'support' the Führer. What this meant could be counted on two fingers. Of course, Klink did not have 5000 Marks left and he had already expected himself being arrested soon because of made-up reasons. And then Hogan, wearing an uniform of the Luftwaffe, had shown up at the Hofbräu where Klink was ordered to meet the two officers for the handover, and the American had given them the 5000 Marks. Like this the Oberst had learned that Hogan – Major Hoople, as he was introduced – had not only left the camp without Klink's knowledge, but Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau had been there, too. Of course, Klink had been glad that Hogan had saved him by paying the two SS-officers – even if he still hadn't the foggiest idea how the colonel got all this money – yet he had gotten some serious thoughts about Hogan's abilities.
At this evening Klink had been forced to admit that his senior POW officer really was able to do everything to his liking. Schultz' and Hogan's explanation that they wanted to help Klink by letting the POWs work at the Hofbräu for money was so transparent, Klink didn't know if he should be offended or amused. After all, the two SS-men had only shown up at Stalag 13 the day prior, and three or four men couldn't earn so much money within one or two evenings by serving in a restaurant – and it also didn't explain why Hogan wore a German uniform. Klink had decided to let the subject drop and had dismissed the two – not handing over Hogan to the Gestapo for espionage and for wearing the Luftwaffe-uniform the American had borrowed.
Borrowed for one evening…
Ha, how laughable. As if you could 'borrow' an uniform. And, by the way, how could Hogan have borrowed the uniform for one evening, when the two SS-rats seemed to have known him for longer – at least from the evening prior? That made two evenings at least Hogan had run around in a German uniform and…
Klink groaned.
This was another odd story that belonged to the long list the Oberst had made for himself concerning Hogan and his 'activities'.
No POW – no matter the rank – should be able to do what Hogan did.
And all this allowed only one conclusion: Hogan was no 'simple' POW.
Too many things spoke for Hochstetter's theory to be true.
Yet Klink didn't care!
Even if Hogan was indeed a spy and saboteur, Klink had not and would not reveal him.
He would protect Hogan, no matter what. Not only because the colonel had supported him or saved his neck a dozen times and more, or because Hogan had captured his heart. No. Whatever Hogan was for real, one thing outmatched everything: He was a good man. Someone who didn't judge people by their heritage – or uniform – but by their personality. Hogan was his friend – maybe the only friend he had next to Schultz. Yes, he longed for more concerning the younger man, but he didn't believe that this wish would ever come true, and therefore he valued the American's friendship far more than he should, given both their positions.
It certainly would be Klink's duty to report all the odd events and things which had happened within the last three years – especially under the regard of the newest accusations – but in this case his mouth was sealed. He would keep Hogan out of danger – and if Hochstetter would come to his camp ever again, he would show him what he thought of human monsters.
Tightening his gentle hold around Hogan and leaning his head again against the still wet dark strands, he closed his eyes – allowing himself and the man he loved some moments of rest.
*** HH *** HH ***
"You see, Herr General, all these pieces of evidence lead to only one conclusion: Hogan is an active Underground-agent. And I bet my last shirt that he is also Papa Bear!" Hochstetter stood in front of his own desk like a visitor, while Burkhalter sat on the major's desk-chair – hands folded on the desktop, fat face flushed with anger, eyes small.
Hochstetter had told him everything he had gathered of information concerning Hogan's supposed missions – of which most was true. Yet the major had no real proof that it was indeed the American colonel who was behind all these incidents. And without ironclad proof his doings within the last one and a half day weren't legitimate. Hell, they were crimes, no matter that he acted with the Third Reich's interest at heart. To go against the Geneva Convention was regarded as an impossibility – at least by those officers who still had some honor and decency left.
There were certainly many people who would accuse Albert Burkhalter of many deeds – among them things which would be called war-crimes afterwards – but one thing didn't belong to the general's more than dubious activities: Dishonor. Like Klink, he was a child of the last century and, even if he hadn't this much scruple – and empathy – like Stalag 13's Kommandant had, Burkhalter had his limits. And what Hochstetter had done, had crossed the invisible line the general had drawn for himself.
"Let me get this straight, Herr Major," he said. "You summed all acts of sabotage and espionage within the whole area, asked for descriptions of the saboteurs and every time one of them had dark hair and eyes, and was about 1,80 m tall, it automatically had to be Hogan."
"Sir, Major Pruhst already reached this conclusion parallel with me, while I…"
"Major Pruhst, Hochstetter, had been ordered off Hogan's neck even before he acted on his own a few weeks ago, disobeying direct orders," Burkhalter snapped. "Like you, Pruhst had no proof that…"
"Sir, as I just told you, I spoke with the Feldmarschall's son and this ominous Schafstein doesn't even exist. The man who showed up on the party looked, spoke and acted like Hogan, because it was him! And this isn't the only time Hogan was a part of operations outside of the camp. He was seen…"
"Like I already said, Herr Major, not every man who looks almost a little bit like Hogan IS Hogan. But that you instantly hop on this train, so to say, speaks volumes." The general leant back in the chair; watching the smaller man carefully. "You are obsessed with him," he stated.
"Because it is my damn duty to eliminate enemies of the Third Reich – no matter if they come from our own lines or from hostile countries," Hochstetter gritted out; eyes glistening with wrath. "There have been so many odd things happening whenever Hogan was even officially involved, there is no doubt that he has also had his hands in events unofficially. You can't deny that the man pulls every trick to reach his goal."
"Proof is needed, Herr Major. I don't know how often I have to repeat this," Burkhalter sneered.
"Proof?" Hochstetter snorted. "Just remember the wedding of you own niece, Herr General. Count von Hertzel, a man who had defected and was already in the Gestapo's custody in the Hausener Hof, vanished during a phony aircraft alert while the wedding party was happening – and Hogan was in the house! Hogan even stumbled into the count's room and was caught by my men who had set up a trap to get the Count's contact-man. Hogan said it was a misunderstanding – that he had mistaken the floor and searched for the room of your niece, because he had fetched a note-book that was needed by the tailor who would sew the gown for your niece. And who was the tailor? The damn Frenchman from Stalag 13, who is also known as a very good cook and – as Hogan once declared – also as a famous dance-teacher."
"I'm sure you remember his latter 'job' very well, Hochstetter," Burkhalter mocked, after all he had arrested the major for dancing with a POW – LeBeau, who taught Hochstetter how to dance. The general hadn't forgotten the view the two showed down in the cooler. He had gotten nightmares afterwards.
Hochstetter made a face. "If you allow me the comment, Herr General, you over-reacted. I wanted to outdo Klink with his dancing-abilities to impress a certain lady, and Hogan told me that LeBeau was a famous dance-teacher back in France." He huffed. "Of course it was Hogan who gave me the information – who else! And it got me a day in custody. This was certainly another trick of his to get rid of me so that he could continue one of his secret operations – no doubt!"
Burkhalter groaned. "And it didn't occur to you that Hogan played this prank on you to get back at you for the many insults and accusations you hurl at him permanently?" He shook his head. "Really, Hochstetter, concerning you and Hogan I think sometimes I'm in kindergarten!"
"And what of Count von Hertzel, Herr General?" the major insisted on his suspicion. "He escaped during the wedding – a wedding with two brides if you would kindly remember. And both wore the same gown which had been tailored by the damn Frenchman, who belongs to Hogan's gang. This has to ring a bell!"
Burkhalter pursed his lips. If you looked at the whole mess from this point of view, it really pointed at Hogan and his men getting the Count out of custody and away from the Gestapo. Yet…
"Have you ever caught Hogan red-handed on one his so-called 'secret missions'?"
"Not in person – otherwise this damn Ami wouldn't live anymore. But so many witnesses…"
"And this is exactly my point, Hochstetter! How many men with dark hair and eyes, taller than you, are living in Germany? How many members of the Wehrmacht, the SS and even the Gestapo have defected to the enemy and therefore wear their uniform as a cover? How many spies has the enemy placed behind our lines who are approximately at the end of their thirties? You don't know? No wonder, because no-one knows this! We are infiltrated, there is no doubt about it. However what I doubt is that a POW – even a clever one like Hogan – has an active part in all the espionage, sabotages and defections which are going on in our land. I have no high regard of Klink, but his record is flawless and therefore Hogan can't…"
"Of course it is flawless – and there are two explanations for it: One, Hogan and his men return after every single mission because there is no better hideout and alibi possible than being an official POW in a camp. Or, two, Klink belongs to the conspirators and covers for Hogan. The more I think about it, I'm convinced that Klink indeed is in one boat with Hogan. Everything makes sense, so…"
The general's face reddened. "Herr Major, I already warned you not to accuse a loyal officer of…"
Burkhalter's highly irritated protest was interrupted by Hochstetter,
"Sir, we both suspected Klink to be an ally to the enemy a few times. Hell, one time we even thought that he was Nimrod, the master-spy. Even if those suspicions couldn't be proven, there were also two times Klink was arrested and accused of high treason – three times even, if I count correctly by adding the time he was taken into custody in Paris. In Paris a mysterious agent spoke on his behalf – who also resembled Hogan a lot – and Klink was released from jail. And the two other times the charges were dropped, because Klink saved his accusers' necks and even took part in a gunfight in his own camp. Klink – the biggest coward in the whole of Germany, who…"
"Who ran back into a shower of bullets only two days ago to save Colonel Hogan whom you had left to die!" Burkhalter snapped. "You ran away to hide in the woods, while Klink risked his life to prevent an indirect murder from taking place. I really ask myself, who the coward here is."
"Bah!" Hochstetter threw his arms up. "Isn't it more than curious that Klink wants to keep Hogan safe this desperately that he even risks his neck for him? He mutates to a bad parody of a 'knight in shining armor' when it comes to the damn Ami, and even has the nerve to stand up against the Gestapo." He pointed at his jaw that was turning blue by now. "Just look what he did to me. Usually he quivers when I only glare at him, and now he punched me. Two times, even. He…"
"That Klink punched you was overdue after all the trouble you gave him until now, not to speak of the many hollow threats and insults you hurl at every possibility. I'm glad that Klink burst with anger, otherwise it would have been up to me to bring you down onto the next carpet," Burkhalter growled. "What you did to Hogan crossed every line. I agree that there is very strong evidence that points towards the colonel, but as long as you have no real proof, you have no right to arrest him – not to speak of torturing him! I do know that the Gestapo and the SS are using methods which are utterly off the charts, but to abuse their own position to get personal revenge on somebody, even disobeying direct orders, is too much."
"Herr General, I do know how this all looks and I'm aware of the fact that you and Klink have developed a great tolerance when it comes to Hogan…"
"Are you alleging me of disregarding my duty because of personal feelings, Herr Major?" Burkhalter sounded a little bit louder now, and Hochstetter knew that he had to be very careful.
"No, Herr General, I do know that the Fatherland has absolute priority for you. But it becomes difficult to think of somebody as being capable of doing hostile things when you know said someone for three years and mostly in a positive way. Hogan has a way of charming himself into most people's heart, or at least lulling people into a false sense of security. He's the nice American man-boy, who jokes and amuses others with his witty comments, while he in truth weaves his net around everyone and manipulates them."
"Just like he did with you as you all thought the war was over and he suggested that you should let the three Underground-agents drive away in your car?" the general taunted, before he all of sudden sat up straight and fixed the major with a hard gaze. "Hochstetter, all the things you mentioned could have been done by Hogan, if he really would have the chance to leave Stalag 13 like he wants, if he had a lot of support around the area and if he were capable of being in two places at the same time – just like last Monday, when one of your so-called witnesses saw him in Hammelburg, while in truth he was in Klink's quarters, playing chess 'til deep into the night. Do you know what I think of this all here?"
Hochstetter hooked his thumbs into his belt. "I have an idea, but please continue."
"You are too kind," Burkhalter mocked, before he continued, "You are obsessed with Hogan being a spy, because he outsmarted you a few times – he, a POW. It hurt your ego and nothing is more important to you than satisfying your ego. Then there are all the mysterious events in the area, which are still not solved. You need a scapegoat for all the sabotages, secret information which got into the enemy's hands and the vanished Underground-people, because you are incapable of revealing the real spies and saboteurs! You are so convinced that Hogan is responsible for everything that you close your eyes concerning any different solution. You weren't even above letting him die in an ambush, kidnapping him while Klink was in hospital and then even torturing him brutally."
"I would have gotten the truth out of him if…"
"Truth? What truth? The truth you want to hear from him or the only truth he was able to give you, but you didn't accept – like him playing chess with Klink and you not even checking his alibi!" Burkhalter rose; enraged. "Torture can make someone admit to things which don't even exist. Women were forced to admit to flying on brooms through the air and to dancing with the devil on the Blocksberg (mystical name for the Brocken, highest mountain in North-Middle-Germany, region Harz, part of Goethe's 'Dr. Faust'). Torture made people admit crimes they didn't even know how to do." His fist landed on the desktop. "Forced admissions are nothing, Hochstetter. Despite what the Gestapo says, those admissions have no meaning! Hell, many officers even have problems accepting statements made when they are given under the influence of truth drugs."
"Fortunately there are other generals who regard these methods of questionings in a different light than you," Hochstetter hissed. "And truth drugs have been proven to be not trustwor…"
"Other generals are not responsible for the POWs within Germany – or make certain that the Geneva Conventions are stuck to! Or that even our own laws are followed. You had absolutely no right to question Hogan without a Luftwaffe-officer being present! You know this regulation, yet you ignored it." Burkhalter was really furious by now. "Whatever you maybe would have gotten out of Hogan, would have meant nothing because you can break any human being and then use his or her words to doom him or her. And as you realized that Hogan was stronger than you thought, you tried to kill him with your own bare hands – for you feared that he would accuse you of what I'm accusing you now: Attempted murder."
"It wasn't my intention to kill him. A dead spy can't give answers. I only wanted…" Hochstetter's lie was interrupted again by the enraged general, who looked through the major like the man was made of glass.
"If you have the guts to disobey my direct orders, than at least have the backbone to stay true to your deeds!" He narrowed his eyes. "Hogan had to die to keep you out of trouble, because you knew that you would be in deep water as soon as I arrived and realized what you did to him. Therefore you insubordinated and tried to get rid of him once and for all before I could intervene. If it wouldn't have been for Klink, Hogan would be dead now – murdered by a man who put his own hate over his duty."
"This has nothing to do with my dislike for him, but…"
"I got Klink's short report of what happened two days ago. What did you say to Hogan as he was tied to the door of your car? 'I told you that I would be your downfall one day. Now go to hell!' – or something like that. Then you left. Klink heard you very well as you doomed Hogan to death as you left him helplessly chained in the middle of an aircraft ambush. This is attempted murder, nothing else! Then you return to Stalag 13 as Klink had to go to hospital because of injuries he received by doing your job! With Klink out of the way your first act was to get Hogan – and taking over Stalag 13 without any reason! Then…"
"Without any reason? Herr General, the camp was in uproar as I arrested Hogan, and only with Corporal Langenscheidt in charge the danger that…"
"Corporal Langenscheidt may be no high ranking officer who underwent a Military Academy, but he is a capable man. And if Klink left him in charge of his camp then this is something you have to accept. It would be only up to me to interfere, because Stalag 13 belongs to the Luftwaffe – and not to the Gestapo or SS! I really ask myself when you guys are going to learn this rule. And, by the way, how did you know that the camp would be in uproar? As far as I heard the evening prior there was no uproar as you arrested Hogan for the first time, and I'm sure Hogan held his men calm even as you arrested him the second time and manhandled him as I learned from an eye-witness." He snorted. "No! All you did had nothing to do with duty. Far from it. You abused your position to get personal revenge, overstepped your authority by taking over one of the Luftwaffe-camps without even consulting me, then you gave instructions to your office to tell my assistant you weren't 'available' and ignored my orders. This time you went too far!"
"Herr General, I…"
Burkhalter took a deep breath. He had always loathed this particular Gestapo-officer and he was almost happy that he finally could say the next words, "Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, herewith you're arrested and I will press charges against you for insubordination, abuse of rank, illegal overtaking of another unit's facility, breaking of the Geneva Conventions, attempted murder and torture of a protected POW-officer out of personal reasons. We are at war, yes, but certain rules should be kept – no matter what."
"General Burkhalter…"
"GUARDS!" The general's voice boomed and a moment later two SS-members stepped into the office and saluted. They knew better than to let the enraged staff-officer, who was also a personal friend of their highest ranking commander, wait. It really wouldn't be wise to irritate him even more.
"Yes, Herr General?"
"Take Major Hochstetter to one of the cells and make certain that he doesn't get any visitors. He's in custody and disposed of all duties and his rank."
"General Burkhalter, you can't strip me of my rank," Hochstetter protested. "The Wehrmacht has no authority over the Gestapo and the SS, so…"
"If you insist, we can do this the hard way," the general snarled and lifted the phone receiver. There was a short answer in the line and he snapped, "Link me to Reichsführer Himmler, priority call one!"
Hochstetter paled dramatically. "Herr General, there is no need to discommode the Reichsführer. I'm certain everything can be solved by…"
"Heinrich? Albert Burkhalter speaking. Sorry for disturbing you this early in the morning, but I've a lot of trouble with the commanding officer of your headquarters in Hammelburg. And I'm really not in the mood to deal with his directly superior General Müller, so I called you. Said major took over one of my camps – again, as I have to point out – then went against the Geneva Conventions and arrested the highest ranking POW-officer in said Stalag out of personal desire for revenge. He tortured the man and tried to kill him two times, going against my orders and the rule that a Luftwaffe-officer has to be present while interrogating one of our POWs."
There was a short silence, then Burkhalter answered, "Yes, I arrested Hochstetter and stripped him of his duty and rank, but he thinks I crossed a line with it, so… Yes, of course. He's still here." He offered Hochstetter the receiver. "For you," he said; a big, satisfied smile tugged at his obese lips.
Gulping and with slightly trembling hands, Hochstetter accepted the receiver and straightened his figure. "Herr Reichsführer, Major Wolfgang Hochstetter here. You…"
The two guards at the door looked at each other. They didn't understand one word their highest ranking commander was saying, but his shouts were easily audible – even over the distance of a few meters. They asked themselves what Himmler even needed a telephone for.
Hochstetter was white as a table-cloth, as he stuttered, "I-I-I-I understand, Herr Reichsführer. Of course I'll answer to everyone of your liking and to you." He gulped again. "Yes, sir, I'll give General Burkhalter no trouble. No trouble at all, sir."
Burkhalter smirked at him. For once Hochstetter sounded like Klink whenever the Kommandant feared something or someone, and the general couldn't suppress a feeling of deep satisfaction. How quick tables could be turned!
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer, of course, sir. Have a good day." He gave the receiver back to Burkhalter, who cleared up some more details, before he bid his 'friend' a good day and hung up the phone. His small eyes wandered back to Hochstetter, who had sweat dropping from his forehead.
"I'll take you with me to Berlin when I'm done here. Until then you remain in one of the cells, stripped of all favors. An interim commander for this headquarters will be announced by me. Himmler gave me free hand in this case. Have you anything else to say?"
Hochstetter shook his head.
"Good. As I see we begin to understand each other – finally." He waved at the two SS-members, before he addressed the major one last time. "Concerning Stalag 13: Did you pull off your men from the camp?"
"N-n-n-no, sir. There was no time to…"
"Of course there was no time to obey at least this part of my order. After all you were in a hurry to break and kill Hogan after you finally accepted the call from my office." He looked him up and down. "I always regarded you as a rat, but that you're a crablouse hadn't even occurred to me." He glanced at the two guards. "Take him away! And then call Leutnant Schmidt. I have to speak with him."
He sat down at the desk again and rubbed his forehead. An intense headache was forming. God, he really had a lot of work to do – but what was he to deal with first? With this mad Gestapo-major, Coward Klink turning into a 'knight' and Hogan, whose witty mouth had brought him more trouble this time than he was able to survive without help?
Sweet Lord, what had he done to deserve these slobs?
A few minutes later a knock was heard.
"Leutnant Horst Schmidt reporting, sir," the young man said, as he entered the office and saluted.
"As you were, Herr Leutnant," Burkhalter said and watched the officer curiously. "As far as I understood, you witnessed Hochstetter's deeds against Colonel Hogan. Please tell me exactly what your heard and saw."
The man took a deep breath and reported, as detailed as possible, what happened down in the cellars. Burkhalter went rigid as Schmidt came to a certain point.
"Branding? Hochstetter wanted to brand Hogan?" he asked, shocked.
Horst nodded. "Yes, sir – with an iron in the form of the double S-rune." He moistened his lips. "I… distracted the major and urged him to accept the call from your office."
"So, you prevented Hochstetter from going through with his intentions," Burkhalter realized. "An SS-member who feels compassion for an accused spy. Unusual, don't you agree?"
"I do not have much experience with being in the SS, sir. I originally belonged to the Abwehr."
Burkhalter lifted both brows. "This explains a lot. Let me guess, the way the SS and Gestapo work doesn't meet with your agreement."
"I'm not allowed to agree or disagree with something like this, sir, yet…" He straightened his shape. "Permission to speak openly, sir?" As Burkhalter made an inviting gesture with one hand, Schmidt continued, "I know that we've a war going on – one that doesn't look as successful as it once was. And I'm also aware of the many enemies behind our lines, but I was raised with certain fundamental values, which are easily forgotten within the SS and Gestapo. To torture a man, who obviously has an alibi for the accused deeds that could prove him being innocent, crosses lines I'm unable to tolerate. And I can accept even less that a high ranking officer abuses his position for personal reasons. We're Germans, not animals. What the major did…" He shook his head. "I know that I'm certainly in trouble now, but I would again try to stop anybody who oversteps his boundaries like this."
Burkhalter pursed his lips shortly. "You think you are in trouble, because you followed our own rules and laws? They are made for cases like this, young man – and I appreciate men who have guts enough to enforce rules even if it means they have to face unpleasant situations." He leant back on the chair. "You acted honorably and reasonably, without insubordination. I need men like you. Have you ever thought of changing to the Luftwaffe?"
Schmidt smiled ruefully for a moment. "Since I was a child I wanted to fly. But an accident as a boy robbed me of my left hearing-ability and therefore I'm unfit for the Luftwaffe."
The general cocked his head. "Hm, yet you're fit for the ground personnel. I could use you in Berlin. Or, if you like it in North-Bavaria more than Berlin, I can also leave you in charge of this headquarters here." He chuckled as he saw the flabbergasted expression on the young man's face.
"Herr General, Leutnant von Neuhaus is older than me and therefore he should be in charge after he returns from Stalag 13."
Burkhalter frowned. "So, this Leutnant von Neuhaus commands one of my camps?" As Schmidt made an affirming gesture, he sneered, "I would rather leave my dog in charge of this headquarters than a man who thinks he can step into other's territories. Reichsführer Himmler, who is a personal friend of mine, left it to me to announce a new interim commander for this Gestapo-seat here." He rose. "From now on you are in charge, Oberleutnant (Chief Lieutenant) Schmidt. The official promotion follows together with the new stripes for your uniform." He offered Schmidt his hand, who looked with wonder at him while his cheeks flushed.
The general had to chuckle again. God, had he been this young, too? Yes, a long time ago – when the world still wasn't one big madhouse.
"Good luck, young man. And if there are a few older gentlemen who have problems with you being in command, show them that members of the Wehrmacht are cut from different cloth. If it becomes too hairy, call me. One little talk with Himmler, and they will be mild as a dove."
Schmidt saluted. "Thank you, Herr General."
"I thank you, Oberleutnant Schmidt. It's a pleasure that there are still some decent men left, who understand that duty means responsibility." He left the desk. "Have a nice day – and, a little advice from me, check Hochstetter's correspondence and settlements first. I'm sure the good major has quite the records. And, this way, you get to learn how business runs in this damn house and can make a clean sweep. I leave Hochstetter in custody in the cellars until I'm done here in Hammelburg. Good day!"
"The same to you, Herr General – and thank you."
The door closed behind Burkhalter and Schmidt stared at the desk that was now his. Sweet Lord, how much had happened within the last hours – all because of his superior officer turning crazy and because of an American colonel who seemed to have befriended not only his own 'jailer', but had also won over a general of the Luftwaffe in a small way.
'The whole world has gone utterly mad, but not everything is lost as long as there are still people who follow the way of honor and truth,' his mother had said before he left for Hammelburg. How right she had been. Today he had experienced a lesson that would shape him for the rest of his life.
TBC…
Well, that Schmidt is now in charge will change several things in the area of Hammelburg – including Stalag 13. And that von Neuhaus hasn't gotten the job will cause trouble, so you all can be curious of what will come concerning this detail.
To write how Burkhalter pulls Hochstetter down from the heights and brings him down on the carpet, has been pure fun. That both men don't like each other is very clear and that Burkhalter is more than angry that Hochstetter even tries to spy on him (like it comes out in several episodes), is something that has to hurt the general's big ego. So to rubbish Hochstetter was certainly a pleasure for Burkhalter (*snicker*).
The next chapter will be completely about our dear, beaten colonel and a very protective, helpful and even tender Oberst, who turns into the mixture of a mother-hen and nurse, while he is barely able to hide his true feelings. It will be mostly sweet and tender. It's more or less a continuation of this actual chapter's beginning.
I hope you liked the new update, and – like you all know by now – I'm always curious what you think of it.
Hopefully 'til the weekend,
Love
Yours Starflight
