Hi, my dear readers,
Even if late, but wish you all a Happy New Year and I hope, you had a nice party. Thank you so very much for the comments, kudos and so on. I hoped that you would like my 'addition' of the Klink-family, and I can promise you some surprisingly twists.
Now, as we're nearing the holidays' end I don't want to let you wait any longer for the next chapter. As you certainly can guess, this is no 'banter' between Hogan and Friedrich Klink, but rather a real quarrel – out of the same reason: Both want to protect 'Willie'.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 72 – Brother dear
"I don't believe it. This guy keeps silence for years, and one call from Mommy, and he remembers that he has a brother. And only because he doesn't want to irritate Mommy, he comes running." Hogan strolled over the compound angrily. "If he stirs up Will, he'll be in serious trouble."
Burkhalter, who walked beside him, shot him a glare. "Hogan, your loyalty towards Klink is touching, but this is family business, so stay out of it."
Robert stopped and threw his hands up. "This will lead to a mess, I know it. This guy is sensible like a sledge hammer. Where Will is a kind-hearted and decent man, his brother is like a walking, talking icicle who only sees his own advantages. After everything I heard how he treats his workers – like slaves – I'm certain that the words 'respect' and 'fair' don't even exist in his lexicon."
"Hogan!" Burkhalter warned. "That is quite enough. Herr Klink is a respectable member of the high society…"
"By slave-driving his workers," Robert growled.
"Just like you Americans did in the South – and still do, right?" the general challenged.
"For your information, I'm from the North. And, no, we don't abuse others as slaves anymore. We liberated them eighty years ago – and we'll do that again for every man and woman the damn Nazis hold captive to let them build Hitler's insane projects."
"Hogan." Burkhalter groaned. "I think you stated your point. Calm down and let the them talk. Klink is capable of handling himself." He pursed his lips while he watched the outraged American. "Did Friedrich Klink really attack you from behind?"
"Yes. I was giving Will some water and heard someone entering the infirmary. A moment later I was shouted at in German and then attacked from behind. That bastard can be happy that I didn't break his arm."
Burkhalter grimaced. "Well, that you defended yourself and Klink in the process, too, is acceptable. Your behavior afterwards is not."
Robert turned fully towards the Austrian. "Wilhelm told me about his brother – how he gave him hell when Will was nothing more than a little boy. He treated him like a nuisance and commanded him around, not caring that an eight-year-old Will was still mourning his father and had problems to integrate in the strange town his family had moved to. Instead of understanding, he pushed the child away and made fun of his tears. Is that a right behavior?"
The general lowered his gaze. "No, certainly not, but trouble between siblings is normal. I know that you have a brother. Did you two always get along?"
"Mostly," Hogan nodded. "We're only a few years apart from each other, and our parents moved around a lot, so we needed to stick together to compensate the trouble that comes with something like this. I was a rather wild child, and he stood up for me – and the other way around."
"Was," Burkhalter deadpanned. "You may not be a child anymore, but deep down inside you're still wild."
Hogan made a face and snorted, but saw no reason to object. He knew that a part of him would never be tamed. He caught the general's almost amused glance, as no disagreement was voiced from him, but before he could say something, Corporal Langenscheidt jogged towards them again. Behind them a few POWs, of whom Hogan knew they were technicians in their civil life, were ordered to come to the electric supply building; among them Kinchloe.
"The generator broke down, Herr General," Karl reported.
"Are we still connected with the power distribution of Hammelburg?" Burkhalter wanted to know.
"Yes, but we depend on the generator during the night, sir," Langenscheidt sighed. "The wires, you know. And the spotlights."
"Super." Burkhalter sneered. Glancing at the American, he asked, "Any chance to get your promise that you and the others won't start an escape attempt tonight?"
Hogan only grinned at him. "You know the answer," he said, knowing that Burkhalter – of course – would guess wrongly. He did. Sort of.
"So you would. And what about Klink?" Albert asked. "Would you leave him behind like this?"
"No, I would stay. But I don't think I can forbid the others to take a given chance. But if you want to have details, I have to ask the Escape Committee about it."
Burkhalter rolled his eyes, hesitated, and gaped at him. "Escape Committee?" he asked, voice high.
"Yes, it holds a meeting every week. With cake, coffee, tea, and…"
"Hogan! This isn't funny," the general groused.
The colonel gave him one of his innocent, yet infuriating smirks. "I think it is." He saluted. "If you excuse me, I have to convene the committee." He headed towards Barracks 2, hearing with one ear Burkhalter swearing, while he was certain that Langenscheidt's coughing was nothing else than a cover for suppressed laughter. Then Robert turned serious again as he glanced into the direction of the infirmary. "Woe you worsen his condition, 'Fritz'. It would be even more stupid than attacking me."
Pressing his lips into a thin line, he stepped a few moments later into the Barracks, fighting the urge to run over to the sickbay to lend Will a helping hand.
*** HH ***
Friedrich Klink picked up the glass, looked and sniffled at it, then put it on the nightstand someone had set up beside the sickbed. Wilhelm had seen the gesture and sighed.
"Fritz, this was water. Just like I said, Hogan is my friend. Just believe it."
The older Klink snorted disparaging. "He is an impertinent scallywag. If the general wouldn't have asserted that this American saved you, I would take care that he is taught some lessons he'll never forget," he groused, furious that a 'simple' POW treated him in such a manner.
Wilhelm was tired, yes, but the sudden appearance of his brother had woken up his mind enough to speak with him. "You attacked him, Fritz. Every man would defend himself then," he whispered, feeling the urge to stand up for Robert.
"I know that this wasn't my best move," the older Klink admitted, still frowning while he rubbed his upper arm and shoulder. "Hell, it hurts. What if it's dislocated?"
"Drama queen," Will murmured. "You wouldn't be able to move your arm if it were dislocated. By the way, we have surgeon here at the moment who can have a look at your shoulder if you want."
Friedrich's face darkened. "This bastard you call a friend almost injured me, and you make fun of it?"
"It doesn't feel good, doesn't it – to be made fun of while the other suffers," Wilhelm said, before he closed his eyes.
"Not this old story again," Fritz grumbled and rolled his arm again cursing. "This scoundrel should be punished. Savior or not, he is still nothing else than a prisoner who can be glad that he is kept alive after he certainly dropped a lot of bombs on German towns."
"We did the same the other way around," Will replied softly. "Sure, we're not able to reach the US, but we dropped bombs on many other towns within in Europe. It's called 'war', Fritz, and many people die. I'm glad for everyone who survives…enemy or not."
Friedrich harrumphed. "So, you're still the dreamer who wants peace with everyone – even with an official enemy." He sat down on the bed's edge again. "This Hogan – he really is your friend?"
"Yes," Will nodded slowly.
"A friend, or…a 'friend'?" He caught his younger brother's shocked glance and rolled his eyes. "Sweet Lord, Wilhelm, of course I know about your weakness. I saw you with that young man from the Marine in Lübeck May 1918. You two stood far too close together, and he glanced at you with big cow eyes. And your gaze wasn't better, so I put one and one together and realized that you're…well, not interested in women."
Will took a deep breath as he became aware for the first time that his older brother knew his secret just like Wolfgang and his mother. His younger brother and mother had accepted it, but Will doubted that the same went for Fritz. "Is my preference in partners the reason why you distanced yourself from our family?"
"No, not really," Friedrich replied. "I built me my own life in Berlin after I was sure that Mother was well cared for. You had started your career in the army, and Wolfgang was only interested in chemistry, so I saw no reason to miss the given chance of opening a sewing company for exclusive menswear – just like I always wanted. And by the way, I met Mathilde in Berlin. These two reasons were enough for me."
"And a queer brother could be a big hindrance in becoming a successful businessman in Berlin who moves in the High Society," Will said, with a bitter tone in his voice.
Fritz shrugged. "Certainly, if it would have become known, but it didn't." He lowered his gaze. "I would and will never give your secret away, Wilhelm. I know what would happen to you then. In this case, blood is stronger than water, but please don't ask me to understand you. I don't. There are cures, you know, and…"
"Heavens, Fritz. Love is no disease you can cure," Will groaned, fighting weariness. "And it's simply about this: Love. I loved Thomas – the man from the Marine you saw me with. After he was killed during a sea battle a few days prior to the war's end, my whole world was about to shatter, and we were only together for a few months then. I didn't take another lover for a very long time afterwards. A few liaisons, but nothing serious. It's the same as if Thomas would have been a woman. You fall in love, you lose said one, and then you mourn. The feelings are the same. The gender doesn't matter."
Friedrich was uncomfortable with the topic, how his face betrayed. Pursing his lips, he asked, "And this cowboy – Hogan? Is he now your new 'great love'?"
"However did you get that idea?" Will tried to avoid an answer.
"Because he acted up like he has a right to demand answers from me, which is usually the behavior of a living partner. He wanted to 'shield' you, like you said yourself. His urge to protect you was a little bit…strong, to say it carefully. And I know you. He is your type."
"He is my senior POW officer, and we became friends during the years he's been locked up here," Will answered softly, not ready to lay his and Robert's fate in the hands of his older brother in whom he had lost all trust. "That's all."
"You're sure?" Fritz challenged. "I was under the impression that he was ready to tear my head off only to keep me away from you."
"He is a trained soldier and a well-respected superior among his men. He is used to shielding them. And because we became friends, he acts on my behave likewise. He is an honorable man who put the welfare of his men and his friends above his own. And as you attacked him, his self-defense and survival instincts kicked in." The few sentences had cost the younger Klink a lot of effort. He felt like falling asleep at any second, but he had to make sure that Friedrich didn't get the wrong – correct – idea and maybe endanger Robert.
Fritz snorted quietly. "He knows about me a lot, seeing everything he beat around my head with. Are you always sharing family details with strangers – not to speak with an opponent officer?"
"No…only with a good friend…and Hogan is exactly that," Will said calmly.
"And he is not more for you?" Friedrich asked again, cocking his head.
"No…he isn't. He flirts with every female that visits the camp and also with my secretary. I know that someone waits for him back home in the US." It was a mixture of lies and half-truths, and Will felt shabby to deny the love he and Rob shared, but in this case, reticence was the better part of courage – if not to say, wisdom. "He is a good friend who even risked his life for me. And, no, I don't grant him favors." He yawned before he continued, "It would be bad for the morale within the camp. We play chess, we interact with each other concerning duty, and I invite him over whenever I have to host higher ranking officers or people from the weapon industry. The latter is usual, so nothing special."
"And yet you became friends," Fritz murmured, and shrugged. "Well, it's your decision whom you trust." His gaze roamed over the pale face of his younger brother. "How are you doing – really doing, I mean."
A little bit confused because of the sudden change of topic, Will needed a moment to answer. "Like shit."
Friedrich flinched. "Language, little brother."
Will couldn't hinder himself of giving a little potshot. "If you would have followed the family tradition and entered the army instead of sewing clothes, you would speak likewise. Even staff officers are not genteel enough to curse here and there, you know."
"Yes, the manners have changed drastically since even men of non-aristocratic heritages are allowed at military academies," Fritz gave a sniff.
"At least there are now men trained who are better qualified for the job than some spoiled half-grown boys who use the uniform to impress others," Will sighed, and yawned again.
"You're tired," Friedrich stated, realizing that this talk would lead to nothing. "Understandable. Getting a bullet in the stomach must be painful like hell. Can you move your legs?"
Wilhelm nodded slowly. "Yes. No nerve was damaged. I was lucky that Hochstetter missed the aorta and organs."
"You can say that," the older Klink breathed. "Mother is beside herself with worry."
"How is she doing?" Will wanted to know. "We exchange letters, and here and there we phone call each other, but I haven't seen her since Christmas and…"
"Düsseldorf is wrecked, to put it mildly, and the Allies bombed the water and power supply facilities last time. To put them back to work is rather difficult. Thank the Lord that Mother lives outside of downtown, otherwise it would be even more complicated for her."
Wilhelm sighed. This damn war. "I tried to convince her and Wolfgang to move to our sister in Switzerland, but for naught. She doesn't want to leave Düsseldorf."
"Typical. She can be stubborn like a mule." He shook his head.
The younger Klink had to agree for once, on the other side, his mother's stern will had made it possible to start a new life in Düsseldorf after his father's death. "How runsh your bushinessh?" He changed the topic, feeling exhaustion reaching for him even more.
Friedrich lifted both brows as he heard the slurring in his brother's voice. "I think you should sleep a little bit, Wilhelm. You're paler than you were a minute ago."
"Nossin-bad," he mumbled, while his lids dropped.
"It's bad, believe me." He pulled the blanket higher. "Just sleep. I'll stay until tomorrow. We'll talk later."
Wilhelm didn't hear him anymore. He was already asleep.
Watching his younger brother for a moment, Friedrich finally rose. He would visit Hammelburg to find a hotel he could stay at overnight, not knowing that every hotel in the little town was closed by now. Picking up his walking stick, he left the infirmary. Walking to the Kommandantur, he was confronted with controlled chaos. Burkhalter was phoning around for some spare parts, the secretary did the same, and the large, big sergeant who had accompanied him to the general's office, sat at the other side of the secretary's desk writing a list.
"What happened?" Friedrich asked, confused.
"A little problem with our generator. Nothing serious," the sergeant played down the issue, while the general's voice sounded from the office.
"I do not care for your other customers. We need these parts within the next two hours! Can you imagine what will happen if more than a thousand POWs are running free around in the area? Yes? That certainly will happen if we don't have any power tonight to supply our wires with it, so stop complaining about some contracts with civilians and BRING US THE DAMN SPARE PARTS, OR I'LL SEND THE SS!" The receiver was thrown onto the phone, and a moment later, the stout figure appeared in the anteroom. "We'll get the needed parts in the afternoon," he announced before his attention was driven to the visitor. "How is your brother?"
"He fell asleep after we talked a little bit," Friedrich answered. "Trouble?" He asked, while nodding towards the office.
"Nothing I haven't got under control," Burkhalter answered with his typical arrogance. "Are you in need of something?"
"No, thank you. I'll leave for Hammelburg now to book a room in a hotel. Can you recommend me one?"
"We have no Adlon nor Ritz here," Schultz commented wryly.
Burkhalter rolled his eyes. "If you want to stay overnight you'll have a problem. All hotels are closed by now."
"What?"
"This is Hammelburg, a town with approximately 5000 people; not Berlin. It's the oldest wine village in Bavaria-Franken and is more than 1200 years old, but the few hotels here have no chance to provide any guests with nourishment or even power during the night, so they closed. We're at war, you know." Burkhalter shook his head.
Friedrich frowned. "And where shall I sleep tonight? My train in Schweinfurt leaves tomorrow at 12 o'clock and…"
"Two possibilities: You can sleep in the infirmary or in the quarters of your brother. The latter is a little bit cold, but I would order Sergeant Schultz to start a fire in the ovens. The infirmary is warm, but you would have to share it not only with your brother and Dr. Glockner, but also with Hogan."
The older Klink gaped at him. "I beg your pardon? I was under the impression that the highest ranking officer of a POW camp has his own little quarters."
"He does, but he prefers to stay near your brother for the case that Kli…Wilhelm needs something." Burkhalter saw the thunderstruck expression on Friedrich's face and threw up his hands. "Don't look at me, I gave up banishing him to his Barracks as long as your brother is not out of the woods. Try to separate fire and brimstone when both has gotten together. It's likewise impossible."
"You could order him," Fritz suggested with exaggerated kindness.
"And then he finds a dozen excuses why he had to go to the infirmary in the middle of the night. Believe me, Hogan has more trumps up his sleeve as a whole scat club owes cards." He sounded frustrated, and he knew it.
"You allow this cowboy to act up with you?" The older Klink didn't trust his ears.
"This 'cowboy' is a well-schooled, highly intelligent and witty officer who – regrettably – belongs to the enemy. If he would be on our side, I'm ready to bet my last shirt that he would win the war alone for us." He turned towards Hilda to ask her for a connection with the next electric shop, but Friedrich wasn't done yet.
"So, it's a good thing that he is locked up here – on the other hand, he is very loyal towards my brother. Is there no chance to win him over for us?"
Schultz and Burkhalter looked at each other in a rare, mutual understanding, and while the large Bavarian had to grin, the general sighed. "A million dollars, a villa wherever he wants, pretty women, and a life-long job in a high position weren't enough for him to switch sides. Believe me, we're through with it. Hogan is a loyal member of the US Army Air Corps and a true patriot who would rather die than betray his country. Yes, he has befriended your brother and even risked his neck for him, but he would never turn his back on his country. And I have to admit that I admire men with such a strong belief. I prefer them above turncoats." He glanced at Hilda. "Please link me to the next electric shop on the list you made. A few spare parts are still missing and…"
A knock came on the door, and two POWs stepped in: A very tiny one with a beret on his head, and large man with dark skin. While Friedrich observed them with distaste, Burkhalter was eager to see them. "Any news?"
"The failure lays in the deflection roll. It's scuffed, and the drive belt was worn through. As it was ripped apart, the blow back damaged other parts of the generator," the black skinned man said. "I made a list of what's needed to get the damn thing functioning again." He offered the sheet of paper to Burkhalter.
"Thank you, Sergeant Kinchloe." He read through it and frowned. "You need a lot of different bolts and screws."
The tiny man shrugged. "They are slacked and don't hold anymore. If we re-mount them, then the generator will break again; this time because of the screws." He spoke with a strong French accent.
Burkhalter sighed. "And there I thought I almost had all the parts." He nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Thank you, Corporal LeBeau. You two will be informed as soon as the spare parts arrive." He looked at the other man. "Sergeant, you still don't sound good. Return to your Barracks and find some rest."
"Thanks, General." The man saluted like the other one did, then they left the Kommandantur.
Friedrich pursed his lips. "You're unusually polite towards this filth."
The general looked up. "Corporal LeBeau is the best cook on this and the other side of the Donau, and Sergeant Kinchloe is a skilled technician."
"They belong to the enemy, eat our nourishment, and…"
"You don't know them, Herr Klink. Yes, they belong to the enemy, but they are also decent men. And a little bit of politeness has never harmed anything or anybody until now. A POW camp is a barrel filled with powder, and you have to handle it with strength but also sensibility. Your brother has perfected this dance on the high wire to an art, and the result is a functioning POW camp without equal. As long as the POWs meet me with respect, I see no reason to deny them some simple civility in return." He turned towards Hilda. "And now, my dear, please link me to the next electric shop. If I want to get everything Sergeant Kinchloe wrote down on this wish list, I have a lot to do." He glanced once more at Friedrich. "Just choose where you want to sleep tonight, and tell Sergeant Schultz. He'll prepare everything for you and your driver. I also invite you to dinner this evening – in the officer's mess. Usually we would dine in your brother's quarters, but given the fact that the broken window in the kitchen couldn't be replaced until now, meals can't be prepared there. And to carry them over the compound would cool them down too much."
"I'll be there, Herr General, thank you," the older Klink nodded.
"Good. You can move freely through the camp, but please leave the POWs alone. I don't want any trouble here. The library, the rec hall, and the cantina are at your disposal. And if you need something, Corporal Langenscheidt will assist you. Now, if you excuse me, I have a camp to run." Nodding at the civilian, Burkhalter vanished into the office, asking himself why every Klink he met until now was robbing his nerves.
*** HH ***
Most of the spare parts arrived in the late afternoon, and Kinchloe, Newkirk, Olsen, and four other POWs, which had been technicians in their civil life prior to the war, began to repair the generator. Wires without power were tempting but a) there was the strict order that no one could flee and b) they all wanted to have some light in the Barracks after the general blackout. So they did their best to fix the generator and were even excused from roll call after Schultz counted and reported them to be present.
A few spare parts weren't originally for the generator, but were needed for the secret basis under the camp. The wide-range radio needed some refitting, a few power wires had to be fixed again in the tunnel walls, and the Heroes had several other things to complete their equipment.
Schultz 'saw nnnnothing', as he watched Carter hurrying over the compound, holding his stomach, and he didn't count the bolts and screws as he took some remains to the motor pool. Sometimes he compared Hogan's men with his own sons when they had been boys: Always tinkering, always having 'great need' for everything they found, always up to some mischief. Maybe this was the reason why Hans had embosomed this crazy gang so much.
Friedrich had visited his brother's quarters, and even if he had to admit that Wilhelm demonstrated his good taste in furniture and decoration, the older Klink couldn't help and shuddered at the hut's shabbiness and primitive surroundings. When he compared his villa in Berlin with it… Thank the Lord the house had been spared so far, and Friedrich looked forward to returning to his own home. This 'cottage' his brother had to live in was far beyond his standards.
Yet he decided to sleep in the guest room and use his brother's bathroom. Schultz had made certain that the oven in the dining room and guest room were heated and ordered two privates to change the linens and bring some towels. As Friedrich was in the bathroom, he thought to hear some soft noises from the living room, but they stopped before he could locate them. Shrugging, he continued to change and follow General Burkhalter's invitation to dinner.
Beyond Klink's quarters, Hogan glanced at Baker. "It's sealed?"
"Completely," Richard nodded, smirking. "Even if Klink's brother tries to shove the oven for whatever reason, it won't move an inch."
The colonel smiled at him. He decided to seal the secret entrance to the tunnels the moment he learned from Schultz that Will's older brother would sleep in the Kommandant's quarters, and Baker had lend a hand in going through with his intention.
"Colonel."
It was LeBeau, and he sounded urgent as he called down from Barracks 2 into the tunnels. From above, Hogan and Baker heard the familiar, "Oh no, I see nothing, I hear nnnnnothing! Come away from this…hole, LeBeau. Oh Lord, my nerves. Look at my hairs, they are already white because of you churls."
"Ah, come on, Schultzie, you know that we have a cellar," Louis tried to calm down the obviously fearful sergeant.
Hogan and Baker were already running back to the entrance of Barracks 2, and Robert looked up where LeBeau bent into the open bed from above. "What is it, LeBeau? Aren't you cooking in the cantina something for Will's 'dear brother'?"
"You are invited, mon Colonel, so hurry up," the tiny Frenchman answered, and Hogan groaned loudly. Baker smirked at him. "But don't try to break his arm again, sir. I think this time you would be indeed in deep water."
Robert stared at him. "Don't tell me that this already made the rounds."
"You know the living, talking newspaper of the camp – Karl Langenscheidt?" Baker chuckled. "The whole camp, including the guards, are laughing their heads off in secret."
"Oh God," Hogan moaned, shook his head, and began to climb up the ladder. "Why me?"
A quarter hour later, Hogan appeared in the officers' mess, clad in his dress uniform, face expressionless. The mere sight of Friedrich made his hackles rise. If you took the few bad streaks of Wilhelm together, increased them many times, and added some other evil characteristics Will lacked, then you got Friedrich Klink as a result. Robert understood now why there was this deep gulf between the two brothers, and he thanked the Lord that fate had forced Wilhelm to enter the service instead of his brother. Therefore, Will had become the Kommandant of Stalag 13. To have Friedrich Klink as the leading CO of a POW camp would have been a living nightmare.
Yet Hogan remained polite, but Burkhalter – who knew him by now – looked through him. He heard the coldness in Hogan's voice and saw the masked anger in the his eyes. You didn't need to be a genius to figure out that the American held the other man in strong disregard – not only on Klink's behalf, but also out of conviction.
At least the dinner was good. How LeBeau was able to conjure something this formidable with the lousy ingredients and small reserves he could dip in was beyond the general. Even Friedrich had nothing to complain about, while around them, the noncoms and sergeants had a far more abstemious dinner.
As the other men left the officers' mess, Burkhalter, Hogan and Friedrich remained. They were about to share a cognac, when Schultz entered the building, headed to the table the three men sat at, and saluted.
"Herr General, excuse the disturbance, but we have Berlin on the line for you."
"Berlin?" Burkhalter asked, assuming nothing good.
"Yes, sir. It's the Reichsführer."
Not missing a chance to boast about his 'friendship' with Himmler, Burkhalter rose. "If you would excuse me for a moment. Heinrich only calls me when something important has happened."
Friedrich lifted both of his brows as he heard the familiar way in which the general spoke about the second high-ranking man within the Third Reich, but nodded. "Of course, Herr General. Like you pointed out, we're at war."
Hogan threw his napkin on the table and got his glass of cognac. "My greetings at the mass-murderer. Tell him we'll hang him as soon as we get hold of him."
Burkhalter simply shot him a glare and vanished together with Schultz, while the older Klink took a sharp breath, but stayed silent. Only as the general left, he addressed Hogan. "You have a death wish, do you?"
"Why?" Hogan drawled, swirling the golden brown liquor in his glass.
"Because to talk like that about the second highest ranking members of our Reich leads sooner or later to…unpleasant consequences."
"I know," the colonel nodded. "I'm sure that at least a third of all kept prisoners are men and women who dared to think different about your beloved Führer and his goonies, and spoke their mind. And concerning Himmler: If yours and mine country have one thing in common, then it is that convicted murders are executed. I don't talk of soldiers who kill during their duty – something a real soldier doesn't like to do, but is forced to do sometimes. I speak of cold-blooded people who kill because they can and even take pleasure from it. Your Himmler is nothing else. And when we're done with the criminals who spread terror and death through Europe and have no problems of taking their own people hostage, then those people who yearn for liberty can breathe freely again."
Friedrich stared at him. "General Burkhalter told me that you're a patriot of the US. I say that you're a fool. You sit here in this camp safe and sound and even gained the friendship of the Kommandant. Yet you try to bite the hand that feeds you, not realizing that your barking can lead to your death with a simple wave of said hand."
Hogan gave him an icy smile. "And there you're mistaken, Fritz."
The other man flared up. "How dare you to call me by my giv…"
"I call you this, because I was used to call your brother 'Klink'. And contraire to you, he is a good man. And your mistake, Fritz, is that you think you're above written law and contracts. The Geneva Convention protect us POWs. And furthermore, you think a real human being begins and ends with an Aria. The old Romans thought likewise of themselves, and look what became of their empire in the end. Thank the Lord the Third Reich will not last this long like the Roman once did." He emptied his glass and rose. Looking at his wrist watch, he said. "It's almost curfew. I'll take a last look at Will and…"
"If you think this low about us Germans, why did you befriend my brother at all?" Friedrich stopped him.
Hogan glanced down on him. "Easy. Wilhelm is a decent, trustworthy man. And the same goes for Schultz. Usually I don't judge people by their heritage, you know. But men like you make it difficult for me to stay true to my own nature."
A low smile spread over Friedrich's face as he got the discussion starter he had hoped for. "And what is your true nature, Colonel? Is my brother appealing to you?"
All alert bells began to ring in Hogan. He knew that he had to be very careful now and check how much the other man was aware of what was going on here. If he knew about Will's 'nature' at all. Bracing himself casually with one hand on the table's surface, he said coolly, "General Burkhalter hit the nail on the head as he told me this afternoon that I'm a rather 'wild child'. And 'wild children' judge in their own way. That's my nature."
The older Klink cocked his head. "So, you have no…special pretensions concerning my brother?"
Robert Hogan was an excellent actor most of the time, and right now he was in top form. Frowning, he asked slowly, "What do you mean?"
Friedrich fixed him. "You don't know about his…preferences?"
The colonel blinked for a moment. "His preferences? He likes chess and to play the violin. He likes museums and operas…" He shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
The older Klink leaned back and observed the younger man in front of him closely. Those brown eyes, still cold and calculating, held a hint of confusion. Could it be that the American really didn't know about his friend's weakness? He decided to try it another way. "I see no ring on your finger, Colonel, yet I think you're in your middle thirties. Do you have someone waiting for you at home?"
Hogan stared at him. "Don't you think that's a little bit personal?"
"You seem to know a lot about my brother and me. I think it's only fair if I learn something about a man my brother calls a 'close friend'."
Robert knew exactly what Friedrich was up to. 'You'll have to do better than that, bastard,' he thought. "You're right," he answered slowly. "Yes, I have someone waiting for me in the US."
"Hm," Fritz nodded, "But you aren't married. Don't you fear that said person, let us put it this way, is getting impatient of waiting for you?"
Hogan crossed his arms in front of his chest and allowed a slow smile to spread over his face. "No, not one moment. She knows that I'm a member of the US Army and that longer separations are coming with my job. I'm absolutely certain of her unwavering love."
Friedrich pursed his lips again and watched him once more. "You're really sure of her."
"Yes," Hogan said, and nodded firmly, his face even relaxed while he allowed his eyes to begin to shine. "I won't doubt her love for me even for a second."
For a few more moments, the older Klink stared at him, then he took his glass of cognac into his hands. "Then you can call yourself very lucky."
"I thank the Lord every day to have her in my life. She never doubted me, she never turned away from me. And she waits for me. Of this I'm certain," Hogan answered, and firm belief echoed in his voice.
Friedrich snorted, but lifted his glass. "Then, to the love of the ladies."
"That's a toast I can agree on." Hogan nodded and lifted his own glass, but avoided to clang it together with that of the other man. Emptying it, he heard steps at the entrance and glanced over to see Burkhalter returning.
"You both are still alive I see. How fortunate. I feared that you two would be at each other's throats by now."
"General, even if Herr Klink and I have completely opposing points of view, we're still civilized men," the colonel answered calmly.
"That's good to hear. A few hours ago I thought I were on a school yard."
Hogan gave him one of his special smirks. "Well, some people are unable to overcome that kind of behavior. But how is the saying? An old heart gets young again?" He clapped Friedrich on the shoulder, who promptly choked on his cognac.
Burkhalter grimaced. If there was one man who behaved like an oversized school boy over and over again, then it was Robert Hogan. At least as long as he wasn't challenged as leader and officer. And, somehow, it almost amused the general how the senior POW was able to drive Friedrich almost up the wall.
He returned to the table and got himself the cognac he had poured into his glass just before Schultz came. "Then I hope your heart is matured enough, Hogan, to take your responsibility within these wires more seriously than ever within the next few days." He knocked down the cognac with one gulp, coughed for a moment, and put the glass down again on the table before he said, "I'm returning to Berlin tomorrow. Important matters allow no delay." He glanced at Friedrich. "I'll offer you a ride in my car. It will be more comfortable for you, and your seat at the train is vacant for our active service members."
"An offer I accept with pleasure," Friedrich nodded. "When will you start?"
"Around eight o'clock after roll call and handing over everything to Sergeant Schultz."
"A good time. Then I can visit Wilhelm once more before we depart," the older Klink said. He rose and lay his napkin on the table. "Allow me to call the evening off, Herr General. I have to rise early in the morning to be ready when you are."
"Of course, Herr Klink. Goodnight," Burkhalter nodded.
Friedrich gave Hogan a stiff nod, the colonel returned, then Will's older brother left. The door had barely closed behind him when the Austrian turned towards Hogan.
"A few words, Hogan," he said firmly. "Luft-Leutnant Otto von Friedrichstein will take over Stalag 13 until Oberst Klink is healed enough to resume his duties. He's expected within the next days. Until then I've put Sergeant Schultz in charge." He fixed the American officer with a stern gaze. "I expect that you'll do everything in your power to keep the POWs calm until then. I also expect that you lend the Leutnant a helping hand in the beginning, or – to put it into a more acceptable term for you: I expect that you give him no trouble. The Leutnant was removed from the active service because of a bullet wound that crippled his left arm, and he was trained in Stalag 8 and M3 for a few weeks. Both Kommandanten were satisfied with his work, and I received no complaining about his leading style, so I think he is enough even for your sensible regards. Not that the latter matters, but I don't want to have a grousing Klink on the line every day."
There was a warning tone in his voice Robert understood instantly. "We'll give him no trouble if he leaves us alone, General."
Burkhalter rolled his eyes. "You can't simply accept something, can you. You always have to make demands."
The colonel shrugged. "We're deep in the enemy's territory, cut off from our people, and delivered to all eventual despotism. I'm responsible for my men's welfare, so I have to get the best results from every given opportunity. I don't think you would do it different if our roles were swapped."
Grimacing, the general made a short affirming gesture. Yes, he understood the CO the colonel was for his men. And that brought him to another topic.
"I'll leave some instructions for the Leutnant, especially concerning your current special status where Klink is involved. I will let von Friedrichstein know that you're allowed to visit Klink whenever you want. Only keep your visits over night as low as possible. I'm aware that Klink may suffer more nightmares. It's typical for men who escaped death by hair's width. And I was also informed by Dr. Glockner that you're able to calm Klink down just like he did it the other way around after your rescue. God alone knows why you two are this close, but a fact is a fact, and I accept it." He cocked his head. "I came to a lot of accommodations towards you and your friendship with Klink, Hogan. I hope this is no one-way-ticket."
Robert had to admit that Burkhalter indeed conceded a lot within the last three days, so he decided to play nice for once. "It isn't, General. I'll tell my men to behave. After all, we don't want too much trouble in the camp until Colonel Klink is well again." A well-known smirk appeared on his face. "I'll bring it up into discussion during the next meeting of the Escape Committee." He saw Burkhalter flinching and added, "I can also assure you that no one will make an attempt to flee tonight."
"Of course not. The damn generator is working again," Burkhalter answered, assuming that this 'cowboy' was only pulling his leg again. And one look at the wide grin proved him right. He shook his head. "Hogan, Hogan, I don't give up hope that you'll grow up one day." He took his cap he had forgotten as he went to the office. "Goodnight." He turned to leave, but Hogan, never missing an opportunity, held him back.
"I hope they didn't call you back to Berlin because of more trouble for you."
"Far from it," the general answered with some pride. "I think the Tommies will get big eyes soon, and then once and for all they'll learn that their lame ducks are no match for our German eagles. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sir." The colonel called after him, his mind already busy with what he just learned. A soft noise from the backroom woke his attention, and his gaze found LeBeau, who stepped into the main room of the officers' mess. "Still here, I see," Robert sighed.
His French friend shrugged. "I have to clean the dishes and those last glasses over there." He pointed at the brandy balloons. "At least here they have the right glasses for something as valuable as real cognac. Those small pins Colonel Klink uses…" He shook his head. Collecting the last of the dishes, he glanced at Hogan, who was lost in thought. "Do you think the Krauts are up to another nasty thing?"
Robert nodded slowly. "'Tommies' is the anything but nice nickname the Germans gave the British. Burkhalter boasted about the 'German eagles' and that the British 'lame ducks' are no match for them. We know that the new Messerschmitts are in serial production despite our attempts to stop it. What if they've built enough aircrafts to attack England?"
"We anticipated something like this for weeks," LeBeau agreed, remembering the talk in Klink's quarters as they learned that their 'Balding Eagle' was on their side for years now.
Hogan pursed his lips. "I have to contact London and warn them. I have no clue when the Krauts will start a new offensive, but they'll do it soon. Offense is the best defense, and the Wehrmacht and the Waffen-SS are more or less down for count." He rubbed his temples. "I'll take a last look at Will and radio London afterwards."
LeBeau nodded and began to carry the glasses towards the kitchen, but stopped one last time. "Mon Colonel, may I ask a personal question?"
Surprised, Robert looked at him. "Of course, Louis. What is it?"
The tiny Frenchman took a deep breath. "I know that you love Klink, yet you sounded very persuasive as you told his brother about the woman in the US who waits for you. There was real warmth in your voice, so I ask myself…" He shrugged.
Hogan chuckled, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "Yes, there is a woman in the US who I will love dearly 'til my last breath." He saw Louis frowning, and continued. "She's warm-spirited, kind, brave, has a big heart, and stays true to me in whatever I do. And she waits for me no matter when I'll return." With amusement, he watched how LeBeau was even more confused now.
"That has to be a kind of angel," the cook murmured.
"Yes, she is." Robert nodded.
"And who is she?"
A true, wide smile spread over the American's face. "My Mom."
LeBeau stared at him, blinked a few times, and began to laugh. A laughter Hogan soon joined full-heartedly.
TBC…
Yeah, Mom forever! Of course neither Hogan, nor Klink will give away to Friedrich that they're indeed more than 'only' friends. And then comes the classical excuse for the 'super unique woman at home' (who is in truth the own mother) in handy.
It was fun to write about Friedrich, who resembles his brother in the shown arrogance, but contraire to Wilhelm he really is a snob and cold-hearted guy, while 'Willie' has a soft core. To devise the differences but also the parallels between the two brothers was quite a challenge, but also was something I enjoyed.
In the next chapter you all will get a surprise concerning Friedrich, but also new difficult times begin. And for once it will be Schultz, who is in need for Hogan's help.
I hope, you liked the new chapter and I would love to get some reviews.
Have a good start into the next week,
Love
Yours Starflight
