Hi, my dear readers,
I'm glad that you liked the last chapter so much. Thank you for the big feedback.
In this chapter, the reason for Hochstetter's chance to escape (the American pilot) causes new trouble for the Heroes. Parallel Schultz tries to lead the camp, but for this task you need more than a strong voice and some good will. A real officer has to help – and the only one left is? Yes, our Hogan.
So, facing now three jobs (being Papa Bear, the senior POW officer and the unofficial Kommandant), Robert really has all hands full, but for once these 'multi-tasking' comes in handy…
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 74 – Secretary Hogan
A day later the call Schultz had feared reached Stalag 13. His wife told him almost hysterically that their youngest son – Maximillian – had been summoned from school; not even allowed to go home before he was registered. The next morning he and twelve other classmates would be brought to Heilbronn for a short training.
Hans had a lot to do to calm down his wife; assuring her that everything would turn out well. But he couldn't tell her how he knew this without giving Hogan away. So he tried to give her hope, but in the end she accused him of being heartless and ended the call. Schultz felt even more miserable.
The interims Kommandant had still not shown up, and Schultz slowly became nervous. It was one thing to lead the camp for a few days, but soon decisions had to be made which were out of his league. Then there were the reports, the many, many forms that had to be filed, lists that had to be completed…yes, he had led his own company, but this here differed a lot from the bookkeeping he was used to. The lack of an officer's training not only in leadership and combat, but also in administration was showing up now, and Schultz simply knew that Klink's duties were too much to handle for him alone.
He tried to reach Burkhalter in Berlin to ask him when the new interims Kommandant would finally arrive, but the general wasn't in his office. In Hungary, a new German offensive against the Red Army had started, while the West Allies had partly reached the Rhine River. Every staff officer was required to feed Hitler with ideas and strategies that the Führer discarded almost instantly. It was pure chaos, and most staff officers had no time for their usual duties.
Schultz finally gave up and went to the infirmary. His gaze found the car of the glasser, who had come an hour ago to assemble the new window in the kitchen of Klink's quarters. Stepping into sickbay, he found his CO asleep. Hogan was nowhere to be seen, and Wilson told him that the colonel was for once in his own quarters.
Thanking the medic, Hans returned to 'his' office, at a loss of what to do now. He sat down at the desk and was still pondering his options, when a knock at the door came, and Hogan peeked in.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked.
Schultz sighed. "No, not really, but yes. This shitty job will soon eat me alive."
Robert lifted both eyebrows. Stepping into the office, he pulled off his crush cap, lay it on the desk, and watched the large Bavarian for a moment before he said, "I spoke with London. They're willing to get information about your two eldest sons in France and will inform me how they are – a personal favor from Captain Hendroff."
Hans gave him a true, but short smile. "Thank you, Colonel."
Hogan nodded and took the visitor chair without asking. "I also told the Brass about Himmler's next insane idea to send kids to the Front. They're shocked, to say the least, and will instruct the officers at the Front to look out for 'small' soldiers. Our boys will be instructed to check if their opponent is a man or a kid, and orders will be given to get a hold of the boys without hurting them. Our men and the Canadians will try avoiding to shoot with live ammunition as soon as they see teens instead of real soldiers, but we shouldn't close our eyes to the fact that accidents and misunderstandings are going to happen."
Schultz looked up at him. "But at least your army and the Canadians try to spare the boys. Thank you, Colonel."
Robert sighed. "It isn't much and, like I said, to avoid losses is impossible, but the order will reduce the size of the danger the kids will be in." He cocked his head. "Any news concerning Max?"
Schultz lifted one shoulder. "He was summoned this morning from school. My wife called me an hour ago and…" He sighed. "Well, I tried to calm her down, but I couldn't tell her that you're going to help as soon as we know where he'll be sent." He shook his head. "She's beside herself, and because I stayed calm, she accuses me of being heartless."
"Women, Schultz. I think a man can get as old as Methuselah and still not understand the females." He glanced down at the pile of sheets, documents, and lists on the desk. "Problems?" he asked, pointing at the heap.
Schultz snorted. "Not until now, but if this new guy doesn't show up soon, it will become an problem."
Robert cocked his head. "After my rescue and while Will was down with the flu, you led the camp for more than a week and…"
"Yes, but concerning certain stuff I could ask the Big Shot, and he also filled the forms and looked through the records before they were sent off to Berlin. But now he can't even sit up, not to speak of rising and sitting at a table for an hour or so." He rubbed his neck. "A few days more and to catch up on work will be a horror for the Leutnant – if he shows up at all."
"Maybe something happened. Have you called General Burkhalter?"
The large Bavarian rolled his eyes. "The 'Sacher cake' is in a day long meeting with the other generals, admirals, and the Führer. Even his secretary couldn't tell me when he'll return to his office."
Another knock came, and Hilda opened the door. "Sergeant Schultz, the glasser is here. The window has been replaced, and he wants you to inspect his work before he sends the bill."
Hans closed his eyes for a moment. "What else could go wrong?" He groaned, rose, and took his coat. "I'm on my way." He left the office without looking back, swearing in Bavarian under his breath. Hilda watched him go. "Poor Schultzie, this is too much for him."
Hogan pursed his lips. "Can't you help him? After all, you've done administration for Klink for more than two years now and…"
"Robbie, I write his correspondence. Personal and accompanying letters, reports, etc. I keep the files of the POWs. But the whole bookkeeping matter and military protocols, lists, and so on are done by Oberst Klink." She sighed. "If we don't get an officer soon, whoever takes over for the Kommandant's duty will face chaos – not only concerning the camp's routine, but the entire military administration."
Hogan frowned for a moment, then he took a deep breath. "If it comes to the worst, you get a new colleague."
Confused, the young woman looked up at him. "What? Who?"
He smirked at her. "Me," he winked.
"You?" She began to laugh. "Are you crazy?"
"Yep, unsavable," he chuckled before he turned serious again. "When this new dude doesn't come, Schultz will need help with all the formalities. I'm a trained officer and schooled in the paperwork that comes with being a colonel. I don't think that your forms and statistics differ much from ours. So…" He shrugged.
Hilda gave him a far too kind smile with a little mischief in her eyes. "Two things you've forgotten, Robert."
"And what would those be?"
She lifted a slender hand and counted on two fingers. "First, you're a POW and certainly can't do any paperwork for the camp you're locked up in. And two: Never underestimate our love for formalities, forms, lists, and so on. You'll go nuts."
He laughed quietly. "You mean more nuts than I'm already?"
"Increases are always possible," she teased, winked at him, and went to the door. "Come with me before your curiosity gets the better of you, and you can go through the stuff on the desk. We don't want Schultz to have a heart attack."
Hogan sighed and rolled his eyes while he picked up his crush cap. "You know me too well."
"And don't forget it," she answered, held the door for him, and nodded for him to go first.
"This is against my upbri…" He was interrupted.
"If it calms you, you can sweep a curtesy." Her smile became puckish. "But then I would know who the lady is in your relationship with the Kommandant."
Rendered speechless for a moment, Hogan simply left the office, while Hilda closed the door behind him.
Five minutes later, Schultz returned. "The window is replaced, and I ordered that the entire quarters is heated through. Should the Big Shot be able to return to his quarters, I want it warm and cozy for him." He hung his coat on the hanger and placed his helmet on the dresser. "Yet I think it will need a day or so before the coldness has vanished completely."
"Klink isn't released from the infirmary so far, and I don't think Dr. Birkhorn will allow a transfer within the next few days, so the building has all the time in the world to warm up again," Hogan said.
Schultz nodded with a grumble. "On the one side, I have to save coal and firewood as much as I can. On the other hand, I have to heat a whole building without even someone living in it. The same goes for the large infirmary, which is occupied by one single man." He looked at Hogan. "Two, to be precise. It's a waste of resources, but I can't change it."
"Maybe Klink can be brought to his own four walls within the next two or three days," Hogan mused. "I'll ask Dr. Birkhorn tomorrow." He rubbed his eyes. "I'll be glad if Will is finally back in his own quarters. I definitely will find more restful sleep then. The infirmary's not all that comfortable."
"But your quarters are?" Hilda asked, half serious, half amused, knowing that the Barracks were a poor substitute for a real cottage or house.
"No, not really, but Willie's guest bed is comfortable."
"You…you want to sleep in his quarters again?"
"Of course," Hogan nodded. "Will could need something during the night, and…"
"As long as you sleep in the guest bed and not in the Kommandant's, everything is all right," Schultz cut in, earning a shocked stare from the young woman and an eye roll from the colonel. "Just imagine the new interims Kommandant shows up and finds you and 'dear Willie' sleeping side by side in one bed."
"Well, then he knows from the beginning how the wind blows," Robert teased, knowing that this would be a catastrophe.
Schultz took the joke seriously as he replied sternly, "Yes, and said wind would blow you and Klink out of this camp into the next madhouse – or worse, to the next firing squad, so behave!" He lifted a warning finger.
Hogan groaned. "I know, Schultz, but I'll stay with him. He did the same for me in January and part of February. Now he needs me, and I'll be there for him no matter what. And the new interims Kommandant can go to Hell."
"Men in love – they're the biggest fools on Earth," Hans sighed, which made Hilda giggle. Yet none of them buried the head into the sand. Klink's substitute could give them trouble despite Burkhalter's orders concerning Hogan's current status. But for now, the Leutnant had not arrived, and the daily routine in the camp continued.
Hogan returned to the infirmary to keep Will company. They had lunch together before Klink fell back into dreamland. For the last few days, the Oberst had slept a lot, and Robert was growing nervous about it. During Friedrich's visit, Will had been more awake, but now he drifted into sleep a lot more.
"Nothing to worry about, Colonel," Wilson tried to assure his concerned superior. "The body simply lowers its activities as much as it can to help the immune system do its work better. Stay with him, give him a drink or something to eat whenever he wants. Otherwise…well, simply be there for him. I know you want to help, but you can't do any more than that."
Hogan grimaced. Yes, he wanted to help Will, but how could he when the man required as good as nothing? Yet his help was required otherwise. This time by the Underground.
Robert had used the afternoon to take a nap. The last few days of fear for his lover's life, the stir, and the rare sleep he got were demanding its toll. Kinchloe regretted to bother his friend as he entered sickbay and saw Hogan lying there in the bed beside Klink's. He gently woke Hogan up. "Sorry to disturb you, Colonel, but we received a radio call from Hans Wagner."
Yawning and blinking the sleep from his eyes, Hogan sat up. "What does he want?" He mumbled, still fighting the clouds of Morpheus' realm.
Kinch offered him a little piece of paper on which he had translated the coded radio message. Hogan read through it and gaped, fully awake now. "Are…are they crazy? We have to do what? Has no one told them that the Krauts have increased enforcement on the west borders, and that on the other side our boys have no time to play travel agency for once?"
James shrugged. "I tried to tell Wagner, but he replied that the US pilot and eleven escapees from that camp M1 have hidden for days near Landshut, covered by the Underground who found them by pure accident. Now the SS is about to track them down. Our man will land in a POW camp, no doubt, but those poor eleven bastards will certainly be shot. We have to help them."
Robert swung his legs over the bed's edge and combed through his tousled hair. "Do I get this right? The Underground found our pilot and the escapees in an abandoned farmhouse, smuggled them near Landshut, and now they're stranded there?"
Kinch rounded the bed to face his friend and nodded. "The closest border is Czechia. Where the Red Army is currently. I can understand that none of them want to be 'rescued' by them. People of German heritage are fleeing from Czechia because they're kicked out, to put it mildly. I don't think that the Czechs would help the men, even if they're escapees from a prisoner camp because a few of them are Germans. Then there's the chance to reach Austria. Where the Nazis still have full power. The men should rather shoot themselves than go to Austria; the result would be the same. And the Wehrmacht is increasing battlements near Landshut. If the guys stay there, they'll be found and with them members of the Underground."
"In other words, they have to vanish completely…and of course Wagner thinks of us here."
James chuckled. "Well, they would go into the underground. Literally."
Hogan grimaced. "Very funny." He pursed his lips. The thought of facing the man whose shot down aircraft set the whole mess into action and Will almost dying made him uneasy. On the other hand, the man was not to blame for what happened. It had been fate, nothing more. But thinking closer of it, the pilot seemed to be a kind of unlucky fellow. First his dropping aircraft helped Hochstetter to escape, and now he gave Hogan new problems because the old refugee routes, the Unsung Heroes had used to smuggle people out of Germany, were closed.
"We can't smuggle them to England. Not any longer. And certainly not twelve men all together. Most traffic ways are damaged or well-guarded. Maybe one of our pilots can pick them up at the other side of the woods, where we got the air parcel for Will. But it's a high risk for the pilot and those guys, too. The situation has changed drastically since last week. The Luftwaffe is hyper sensible, and because of the new released larger number of Messerschmitts, our boys have enough problems at hand when they're in a squadron. A single aircraft is easy prey for the Krauts."
"So we would have to keep the escapees here," Kinchloe concluded.
Hogan rolled his eyes "Yes, but how shall I add twelve men to us POWs without Schultz or Langenscheidt learning about them? Okay, Schultz is on our side, and I'm sure the same goes for Langenscheidt, but when the new interims Kommandant shows up, he'll soon learn that he has a few more sheep in his flock than officially should be there." He shook his head. "How shall this even work?"
Kinch pursed his lips. "They could live here among us POWs, and when Klink's substitute arrives, they'll stay in the tunnels. Or, even better, we write faked files – giving them a new identity, and they are 'official' POWs for the rest of the war. They would be safe and relatively well-cared for without death aiming at them."
Robert cocked his head, his mind running a thousand miles an hour. "That sounds easier than done. Schultz would have to fake the new arrivals by dating them back. That means messing with lists, protocols, and so on. I don't think that he can do that. Will here," he glanced at the sleeping Klink, "could fake entries. I know that he tampered with the accounts and clearings of the camp's bookkeeping a few times."
"Yeah, I remember this other Kommandant who was sent to learn from him how to lead a POW camp properly, and the bastard became aware of Klink's…well, lending of money from the camp's chest." Kinchloe grinned. "Now the guy counts grass blades in England."
A snort escaped Hogan as he remembered said incident. "Well, like I said, Willie could mess with the documents, but Schultz…" He sighed. Then he hesitated, frowned, cocked his head, and a large grin began to appear on his face.
Shaking his head in amusement, Kinch crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I know that face. You got an idea."
Hogan nodded. "Yes, it's crazy. Schultz will have a fit, our Brass will get the greys, and Burkhalter would suffer a heart attack." He glanced up. "I learned this morning that Schultz has some problems with the whole administration stuff that is strictly military. I already joked that I could lend him a hand – something even Hilda called me 'crazy' for."
"I beg your pardon?" Kinchloe asked flabbergasted.
"I'll get myself a job at the Kommandantur. Yes, I'll help Schultz with the lists, protocols, forms, etc. – and parallel I add twelve more prisoners to the camp's occupants. Newkirk will start to make some files I'll add later to the file cabinet when the men are here, and we could make photos of them. They get weathered uniforms, a new identity, and voila; they're POWs in Stalag 13 safe and sound."
James scratched his head. "That could work despite one little detail. Where shall they sleep? Most of the Barracks are full, and…"
"We dispense them. In Barracks 3, 7, 12, and 13 five beds are free, and they belong to Langenscheidt's responsibility. I'm sure we can win him over. One more bed is available in my quarters. You could take it as my second in command. That would make your bed is free. Six more escapees to accommodate. I'll convince Schultz to order three further stock beds. As soon as the material is here, we built them and add them to three further Barracks. If we budge up, no one will see that there are more men than usual."
Kinch stared at him and had to chuckle. "You're right. This plan is crazy – and it might just work."
Hogan smiled widely. "Craziness is my specialty."
"I know, sir," his second in command deadpanned, before both men grinned at each other. "So, should I tell Wagner to send the guys over?"
"Yes – and ask him when they'll arrive. We have to be prepared for them."
The staff sergeant agreed and left the infirmary. Robert looked down at the little note that held the message, went to the oven, and stuck it into the fire. Straightening his shape, he pursed his lips and glanced towards the window. The whole thing was stupid at best, but – like so often before – he would go through with it. Hopefully luck would continue to be on his side.
He went to Klink's bed, pressed a loving kiss to the older man's forehead, and left the infirmary to go to the Kommandantur to set the first part of his plan into action.
Schultz was there – brooding over the paper pile that seemed to grow day by day.
"This doesn't look good," Hogan said, after he knocked and stepped in.
"To lead a camp is more than ordering nourishment and coal, making roll calls and writing reports. I'm schooled in bookkeeping, and I'm used to making calculations for purchases and disposals. I have no problem with leading people and marketing, but this," Hans tapped on the papers, "is something completely different. All those forms, the lists, the reports – everything in this stupid officialese language, this military jargon…it's maddening."
Hogan frowned. "But you were trained last year to take over for Klink. Hell, you were so good we had to stop you, and…"
Schultz threw his hands up. "Colonel Hogan, I have no problem with guiding people or to write a few records. But this here is something for a schooled officer." He glared down at the pile of unfinished work. "This will lead to a catastrophe."
Hogan sighed. "Well another catastrophe is approaching in three of our Barracks."
"What?" Schultz asked, slightly alarmed.
"A few of my men reported that their stock beds are about to give in. We need new ones."
Hans frowned. "New stock beds? They're about to give in? How so? Did they abuse it as trampoline, or what?"
The colonel shook his head. "No, they're old and…"
"The stock beds are a few years old and made from good German wood. There is no chance that they're about to break." He lay the pencil aside and bent forwards, distrust on his round face. "Colonel Hogan, what is really going on?"
Robert groaned inwardly. Throwing his crush cap beside Klink's Pickelhaube, he sat down in the visitor chair and said softly, "Schultz, we need three stock beds. Is that too much to ask?"
"If you ask for something like that, the whole reason is anything but harmless," the large Bavarian answered wryly. "Out with it, what is it!? Do you expect new POWs or what?"
The American grimaced. "You earned yourself hundred points."
Schultz leaned back. "Well, if we get new POWs, then we have to order more equipment. I don't know how you learned of newcomers' arrivals, when even I was not informed until now, but…" He frowned. "Wait a minute, first you said you need them because the old ones are about to break apart, and now you need them for new POWs?" He cocked his head as he saw the slight, guilty expression on the younger man's face, and the famous scales slipped from his eyes. "Don't tell me that this is another monkey business."
"No, no 'monkey business'. It's simply saving twelve lives," Hogan sighed.
"Twe…." Schultz gulped. "Who are these men? Where are they coming from? How long will they stay? What…"
Hogan lifted a hand. "Schultz, take a breath." He pressed his lips into a line and made up his mind. Sooner or later Schultz had to learn the truth, and they could need every support they got. So, Robert decided to get the Sergeant of the Guards on board. "They're escapees from M1 and the pilot whose aircraft crashed down on the camp and gave Hochstetter the chance to flee."
"What?" Schultz gasped, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat.
"Underground members found and hid them, but the SS is closing up on them now. Our pilot will be protected by the Geneva Conventions. But what about the political prisoners? They'll be shot, and…"
"Colonel Hogan, as nasty as this is, we can't hide them here. If they're found within these wires, I'll be sent to the firing squad. Even more, they will kill the Kommandant and all of you, too. No, no, no, to hide them here is impossible!" He shook his head, face flushed.
"Schultzie, have a heart. Those men have families – dear ones who are worried out of their minds…"
"The answer is no," Schutz said firmly.
"Little boys and girls who wait for Papa's return…" Hogan began to wove his coaxing web like he had done often before.
"No!"
"… praying every evening to the Lord that He may protect their Papas…"
"Colonel Hogan!" It was groan, not more.
Robert leaned back on the chair, looking to the ceiling. "And then Mommy comes in, telling them that Daddy won't return…"
"Herr Hogan, bitt'schön!" (Bavarian for please) It sounded a little bit desperate now.
"…that he will never come through the door again, smiling at his little girl or his brave, little boy, because…"
"VERDAMMT!" (dammit) Schultz threw his hands up. Both men glanced at each other before Hans cursed, "You'll be the death of me one day, do you know that?" He rose, walked to the door, and opened it wider, realizing now that it hadn't been closed completely. "Fräulein Hilda, please order three new stock beds. Our POWs used them as trampolines, and now the 'poor men' are about to sleep on the floor."
Hilda looked over her shoulder, a certain smile on her face. "That is the official vision. Are you going to tell Oberst Klink the unofficial one, too?"
"I beg your pardon?" Schultz gasped.
The young woman only winked at him, rose, and stopped at the office door; peeking inside. "Do you need other stuff for those men you want to smuggle in, or are the stock beds enough, Robbie?"
"That'll be all," Hogan answered, while Schultz, who stood beside Hilda at the threshold, looked between them.
Letting his head falling into his neck, he moaned, "I hear nnnnnnothing!" Then his eyes widened. "The new interims Kommandant! If there are twelve more men, then he'll learn about it when going through the lists and files, and…"
Robert smiled widely at him. "I already have a solution for that problem." He looked at the young woman. "Hilda, could you please bring us the arrival reports and POW list of the last three months?"
Schultz began to stutter like a stirred up cat. "What do you have in mind?"
Hogan grinned at him. "The twelve men have arrived within the last few months. The reports will prove it." He winked at Hilda as she returned and gave him the documents. "And concerning the personal files of the guys, Newkirk will make them, and we'll add photos to them as soon as the men are here."
"That…that is one big swindle, Colonel," Hans almost squeaked.
"Nothing more or less than the books of the camp's account," Hogan played down the issue. "And there is also a big win-win in it for you, Schultz."
"And what should that be?" the current Kommandant croaked.
The American officer smiled at him innocently. "You got yourself an assistant who helps you with the paperwork." Having the lists and reports still in hand, he rose and stepped around the desk. Placing the papers beside the big pile, he took a few of the documents and lists which lay there for days now and began to scan them.
"Colonel Hogan, put them down," Schultz ordered, thunderstruck. "You're not allowed to…"
"Just help me with this odd wording here," he interrupted the large Bavarian. "My German is good, but these stupid formulations need its own translation." He sat down in the desk chair.
Round eyes almost bulging out of his head, mouth agape, shock written all over his face, Hans Georg Schultz looked at the most crazy picture he had seen in a very long time. There, at Klink's desk, sat Robert Hogan, reading through the camp's records and began to sort them.
"What…what are you doing?" Schultz was about to faint.
Hogan glanced up. "Easy. I'm a schooled officer. Military phrases are more or less always the same. You may not understand what the Brass wants with those forms, lists, and reports, but I do. I'll help you with this stuff and update the arrival list and files."
Schultz gaped at him. "You want to fill out the forms and reports for our Brass?"
"No, I want to fill out the damn things to help you do your duty properly and to keep the camp in function." He let himself sink casually against the chair's backrest. "I promised Will to take care of Stalag 13, and I intend to keep my word. I'll kill two birds with one stone. The paperwork is properly done, and we can fake the escapees' identity and make them official POWs of Stalag 13."
Hilda leaned against the door frame and couldn't help herself: She had to laughed. "Robbie, besides the fact that the Brass in Berlin will get the shock of their lives if they learn that a POW does the administration within a POW camp, you'll face trouble with your superiors if they learn what you're going to do here. It's simply crazy."
He smirked at her. "Yes, and yet, it is the only way to keep everything going on – including my operation. The camp has to run smoothly, or my men and I are done for. And the same goes for Will and Schultz here. Burkhalter may oversee a few things on purpose because he and Klink have known each other for many years, but the new interims Kommandant could use the lack of Schultz's knowledge against him and Will, taking over command fully. This is a risk we all don't want to take. Everything has to be perfect when this lieutenant arrives. Not only the paperwork, but also the newcomers' files and faked arrivals."
"I don't believe it," Schultz almost whined. "Our senior POW officer is about to lead this camp."
"Nothing new then," Hilda deadpanned and ignored Hans' indignant glare. "I understand your motives," she addressed Hogan. "But I hope your superiors are going to see it likewise."
He chuckled. "As Papa Bear, I've taken odd measurements to fulfill my new task: hiding twelve escapees. As senior POW officer, I do nothing else than follow my duty. Only a good leaded camp guarantees safety and nourishment for its occupants. I'm responsible for the welfare of my men." He shrugged. "And most of the guards aren't so bad. I don't want them to suffer. They're less edgy with filled stomachs and a decent night's rest in warm dorms."
"I already hear General Burkhalter shouting," Schultz moaned, hanging his head.
Robert smiled cheekily. "According to the Geneva Conventions, POWs can be ordered to do work within the country they're captured in as long as said work doesn't support the warfare of the opponent. Captured officers are excluded, except if they volunteer. And this is exactly what I'm doing. And what you can tell Burkhalter should he learn of our little secret."
It was tempting – more than tempting, yet Schultz feared trouble. "Colonel Hogan, just think about it. You maintain lists and forms from Stalag 13. General Burkhalter could think that I allowed you to spy on us, and…"
"Schultz," Hogan said kindly. "Do you really think the Allies are interested how many rolls of toilet paper, pieces of soap, washing powder, and so on are needed in this camp? Or how many days off are permitted for the guards, how many became ill, and so on? I'm sure that this doesn't even interest your Brass – especially not with the current situation in Germany. You have to make these freaking statistics without knowing how to do them. But I know it, and therefore I volunteer for this job." He snatched the paper back from Schultz's hands. "By the way, I don't think the new interims Kommandant has time to check everything, and…"
"But we have different handwritings," Hans said quietly.
"Yes, and so does Klink, Burkhalter, and Sandhaus… There were so many men in charge of the camp within the last few weeks, no one will get suspicious when he sees the different handwritings." He placed the paper back on the desk and bent over it. "We're speaking here of one or two days until this Lieutenant von Friedrichstein shows up – and then we're both rid of this paperwork."
He couldn't know how wrong he was.
*** HH *** HH ***
Newkirk was called to the Kommandantur to help with the faked files and tampering of the reports and lists. His ability to make fabrications and imitate handwritings had rarely been needed to an extent like now.
Hilda gave him twelve empty file holders and some sheets of paper. He and Hogan had agreed on new names and background stories for the men except for the pilot, who could keep his true identity – after all, this man was never registered. Yet Newkirk couldn't start with the files instantly. Kinchloe had to contact the Underground again to get some information about the circa ages of the men and if they had some visible characteristics like scars. Only then Peter could begin with his 'art' as he called it.
Hogan stayed for the rest of the afternoon in the Kommandantur to help Schultz with the real paper-work. As evening roll call was about to happen, he had caught up a quarter of the work; earning real smiles and a very hearty "Thank-you!" from Schultz.
The interims Kommandant still hadn't arrived, and so Hogan remained at Wilhelm's side in the infirmary, feeding him dinner and reading to him until the Oberst's eyes dropped. Making himself ready for bed, Robert slipped between the sheets in the neighboring bed he once again had pushed directly beside Klink's.
During the night, Will became restless again, and Robert used the established method of calming his lover. He closed the distance to him and took him into his arms, lying half in the sickbed, half in his own. It was anything but comfortable, but Hogan didn't care. Wilhelm was the most important matter for him, and he held the lanky and slowly becoming thinner form of his beloved during the night, thanking the Lord once again that He had spared Will.
The next morning Hogan got another message from the Underground that the escapees would arrive within the next two days. That didn't give Robert much time to prepare everything. He had breakfast with Klink after roll call and took care of him until the older man fell asleep again. Contraire to the usual habit that had built since he and Will got together, Robert didn't tell him of the new 'task'. He didn't want to unsettle his beloved, whose mind worked clearly when he was awake, yet he was mostly exhausted.
As Wilhelm made another 'trip' to Morpheus' realm, Hogan went to Barracks 2 and from there into the tunnels. Newkirk was busy with writing the files after he got more information about the escapees. Those, which were already done, looked deceptively real, and only the photos had to be added after the men's arrival.
Satisfied, Hogan entered the Kommandantur a few minutes later to help Schultz again with the paperwork – something that wasn't really his thing. He never liked to sit at a desk. He was a man of action. Yet he always had fulfilled this part of his duty correctly. But compared to the usual paperwork he knew from the US Army, this was a nightmare. He had to admit that the saying, 'the Germans have a nag for bureaucracy' was the understatement of the century.
Basically everything had to be recorded, for everything was a rule and for said rule was another rule how to make certain that the first rule was followed. German protocol seemed to be endless, and the formulation gave Robert the greys. Heavens, the US Army was stern concerning this stuff, but the Germans were three times worse. It was no wonder that the Wehrmacht tread on its own feet, so to say. Figuratively spoken: When the US Army or the Brits were already in action, the Germans were still checking if everything would run in accordance with written rules and protocols. Hogan could only shake his head.
"Why do we battle with you at all?" he groaned early midday while pondering some new records. "We should have just let you discuss everything, wait until you're too busy with increasing rules and protocols, and when you don't know how to proceed further because your own laws have captured you, we could have won the war with one stroke."
He sat at a smaller table two guards had brought from the cantina to the Kommandantur and looked over at the desk where Schultz was. The large Bavarian chuckled for a moment, yet his amusement vanished quickly again. Since he had learned that his youngest son had been summoned to the Wehrmacht, Hans was not the same man, and Hogan really hoped that they would soon learn where the boy was being sent to.
A knock came on the door, and Hilda came in. Without saying something, she walked to the radio and switched it on. The West Allies had managed to seize a train bridge over the Rhine by Remagen, which made the way free for them to spread through the rest of Middle Germany. The Rhine had been the last natural border, and even if only one bridge was captured, it was the first and one of the most important steps to send more divisions through the Third Reich. Parallel came the news that units of the US Army had conquered Cologne and with it more bridges to cross the Rhine. From there they had free access to the Ruhr area, where most of the industry was located, together with coal mines and gas production: Germany's motor for the war. Without coal for the locos and gas for the industry, everything would come to a halt sooner or later, not only for the arms factories, but also for the Wehrmacht and other fighting units.
No one had to be a genius to imagine what chaos was certainly erupting in Berlin now. Hogan grinned when he imagined a raging Hitler and helpless generals, who didn't know how to calm down their insane leader and think of new strategies to turn the wheel once more.
"Hopefully this is finally the beginning of the end," Schultz murmured. "Maybe this crazy gnome in Berlin will realize that it is over and that it would save thousands of lives if he surrenders."
Hogan shook his head. "Hitler won't give in," he said quietly. "He belongs to those men who deny facts they don't like and continue to fight 'til the last breath no matter the costs."
Hans glanced at him – sad and frustrated. "If he would give up now, my little Max wouldn't be sent to the Front. And maybe Hans and Ludwig could come home soon."
Even if Robert had no children of his own, he could understand the older man's deep concern and how helpless he had to feel. "When the war is over, I'll speak with London to send your sons Hans and Ludwig home," he said softly. "If they're no Nazis, I don't see a reason to keep them in a POW camp any longer."
Schultz looked at him while a real smile appeared on his face. "Thank you, Herr Hogan," he whispered.
"And concerning Max, we have to wait until you get more information. We'll get the boy before something happens to him…somehow." As the large Bavarian glanced with shining eyes at him, Hogan felt himself flushing. "It's all right," he murmured. "What are friends for?"
*** HH ***
In the afternoon, the material for the stock beds was delivered, including the mattresses. The blankets and pillows would be taken from the camp's stock. To make the whole camouflage more real, Schultz had ordered material for ten stock beds. He justified it with a better obtained price, but also with his 'wise foresight' that because of the many battles at the borders and in the air, more POWs certainly would be expected soon.
No one, not Schultz and not even Hogan, could assume how true the latter would become in the near future and that ten stock beds would be the famous drop on the bucket – better to say, 'a drop on a whole water tank'.
POWs, which were good with their hands, began with rigging up the stock beds. Hammering, sawing, and other noises filled the air in a few Barracks, where the added stock beds would remain. Barracks 2 already had a smaller main room because of the separated quarters of the senior POW officer, so no further space was available there. Hogan made certain that those escapees, of whom he had learned from Wagner that they only spoke German, would be placed into Barracks where one or two POWs spoke at least a little bit of German.
After evening roll call, and afterwards the men continued with their work until dinner. Only then did quietness return to the camp.
Dr. Birkhorn showed up like promised, yet it was already past eight o'clock. The surgeon looked exhausted and pale, but was determined he check Klink through. He was very satisfied with the healing. "Very good," he said, while he covered the Oberst with the blankets after the examination. "If the healing continues like this, you can be moved back to your quarters by Friday or Saturday. I'll check on you before you're moved and stay during it to make sure that nothing goes wrong."
Klink smiled at him. "Thank you, Herr Doktor. The infirmary is no comfortable place to stay." He glanced at Hogan, who had only come into sickbay a few minutes before the surgeon arrived. "And especially when you're alone in here."
Robert rubbed his neck. "We'll speak about it when Dr. Birkhorn's left. Camp business, so…" He shrugged.
The surgeon chuckled quietly. "You have a nice way of kicking someone out, Colonel. Very charming, indeed." He took his belongings, wished the two officers a goodnight, and left.
Rob pulled the visitor chair beside Will's bed and asked softly, "Did you really wake up this afternoon and missed me?"
"I woke up during the later morning and afternoon – and every time you weren't here," Wilhelm pouted. "There were noises everywhere. What's going on outside? Are you refitting the camp, or what?"
Hogan sighed and pinched his nose. Birkhorn was satisfied with Will's condition, so maybe it wouldn't be bad to tell the older man what really was going on. "Sooner or later you'll have to learn about it." He caught Wilhelm's alerted gaze and lifted both hands. "Nothing to freak out over, hon, really. I…well…the new interims Kommandant didn't show up and…"
"I know. Schultz already told me between roll call and dinner. And he also told me that you're helping him with the paperwork." He shook his head, smiling now. "You're the most crazy POW who ever walked this Earth. Helping your own jailers with the administration."
"Yes, it's a win for both sides. Schultz doesn't get into trouble, the camp runs smoothly, and therefore my operation isn't endangered." He moistened his lips and lowered his gaze. "Uh…Will…there's more."
"When is that not the case when you're involved?" Klink teased, saw the guilty expression and sighed. "Shoot."
"Well…there are these men on flight, you know…" Within the next minutes Hogan told Klink about the newest changes which would factor into Stalag 13 and the task he had gotten himself into by agreeing to help the escapees. He also spoke of his idea to integrate them as official POWs and how far the whole background work for it was already done.
Will only gaped at him. "You…you want them to stay here – with false identities?"
Rob nodded. "It's the only way to hide them without the SS tracking them down. The damn rats will search everywhere, but certainly not in another prisoner of war camp. And even if they come to ask questions, they'll find nothing. The men have been here for months now."
Klink blinked a few times and croaked, "But…Schultz will realize that something's not right. He's on our side, but…"
"Schultz knows already about it…he's the one who ordered the stock beds."
"Stock-beds? He didn't say anything when he was here an hour ago," the Oberst outraged.
Hogan smirked. "I think he wanted to leave it to me to tell you about everything."
Wilhelm stared at him. "First he allows you to do paperwork for the camp, then he agrees to hide escapees among my prisoners, supports you with expensive purchases, and then he doesn't have the guts to tell me about it?"
"Will, the whole idea was mine, so it's okay that he left it for me to explain to you…" Robert began soothingly and became large eyed as Klink lifted his head and took a deep breath.
"SCHUUUUUUULTZ!"
TBC…
Well, if Klink can shout like this again, he has to feel better – at least concerning his health. What could be detrimental for him is everything that goes on in his camp at the moment. Of course he realizes that Robert has taken over (more or less) and has Schultz wrapped around his fingers. And he also knows that Hogan 'leads' the camp for years now, but at least it had been secretly. Now it becomes more and more obvious, and it has to give Klink the greys – not because he distrusted his beloved, but he rather thinks of what will happen if Burkhalter learns of it…
In the next chapter, Papa Bear takes action again. He has to get the escapees into the camp, while the SS and Gestapo is breathing down the men's neck. And the leading officer of the 'hunting group' is a real blood-hound who comes dangerously close to Hogan and his friends.
I hope you liked the new chapter – including Hogan's typical but also so special way to persuade Schultz to agree on taking the escapees in (and to write about Hilda's reaction to the whole scene was pure fun, as well as Hogan's frustration with German bureaucracy).
Like always, I love to get comments / reviews.
Have a nice weekend,
Love
Yours Starflight
