Hi, my dear readers,
Thank you so much for the big feedback. I know, the story is long, yet you all keep on reading – and the next show-downs are coming soon. I also know that you all are curios what will happen to Schultz' youngest son, and in this chapter Hogan tries his best to help his Bavarian friend.
A little disclaimer: The mentioned two US-general within this chapter, as well as their named divisions, are history, and I name them full of respect and without any intention of offense.
And there is one thing more. General Patten, who conquered Coblenz (what is important within this story, as you're going to see), was also the very same staff-officer who tried to liberate the real Stalag 13 to free his son-in-law, who had been 'transferred' from Camp 64 in Poland. He failed and more than a week later another US-officer finally seized the camp and Hammelburg.
I'm NOT going to use General Patten's attempt to liberate Stalag 13 for the story, but will replace him with an own created character, and the whole mission will differ from history. Yet I have to mention the general concerning Coblenz. The mentioned members of his staff are also no real historic persons, but my own creation, and you'll read later, why. As you certainly now, I mix history and fiction.
I hope, you're going to like the new chapter.
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 77 – Calm before the storm
An hour later, Hogan introduced the former escapees to the occupants of the Barracks, where they would stay until further notice. Like the colonel had already planned, he positioned the German prisoners in those huts where one or two regular POWs spoke a passable German, and so the newcomers were able to communicate with them and learn of the life within a camp that differed somehow a lot from what they were used to.
Newkirk gave Hilda the faked files, who sorted them into the filing cabinet as if they were there for weeks and months.
In the late afternoon, Dr. Birkhorn appeared and examined Klink carefully. He was satisfied with what he found.
"Okay, Herr Oberst, I think it's safe to transfer you to your own quarters," he said, smiling as he saw Klink and Hogan's beaming faces. "But you have to promise me that you will stay in bed," he warned the Kommandant. "No experiments, or everything that healed until now can be torn again." He glanced at Robert. "You'll stay with him?"
"I'll move into his quarters so that I have an eye on him."
Will grinned. So, even if it was out of an anything but pleasant reason, they had their own little world back. It was worth a hole in the gut – at least for Klink.
Twenty minutes later, Klink was moved on a stretcher over the compound covered with thick blankets. Hogan, Langenscheidt, and two other guards carried him, while Dr. Birkhorn and Wilson remained at each side, ready to intervene should one of the men stumble or something else unforeseen event should take place. A fall could be deadly for the Oberst.
Several guards applauded, and even a few POWs nodded into their direction. Hogan's men smiled broadly, which confused Rooney greatly, who was allotted to Barracks 5 and was now with Newkirk to learn more about the camp.
"I know that the Kommandant supports Colonel Hogan, but those two seem to be real friends," he said quietly.
"They are," Peter agreed, while he looked at his countryman. "Has the Gov'nor told you how Colonel Klink got injured?"
Rosenkranz and Sheridan stepped closer and listened.
"I only heard from the others that an insane former SS-officer crept into the camp and tried to kill him – him and Colonel Hogan," Rooney answered Newkirk's question. "An abdominal shot from close distance. Quite the shocker that he survived."
Newkirk sighed. "Major Hochstetter was a lunatic who hunted Colonel Hogan for months – years even. In January, he kidnapped and tortured him and was sentenced to a working camp for it – a camp he escaped from after an aircraft dropped down onto it. He hadn't any other idea than taking revenge on Hogan and Klink, who freed our colonel from Hochstetter's sick clutches in January and gained the major's everlasting hate for it."
Rooney gasped and stared at him. "An aircraft that dropped down… He was in M1?"
"Yeah, he was," Peter nodded.
"I remember Hochstetter – smaller man with almost black eyes," Rosenkranz said quietly. "He lived in the Barracks next to mine. He was an odd person – always stayed alone, sneered at everyone and offended us with cruel and brutal names and curses. The same went for the Polish and Czechian prisoners – or those Germans who are locked up because they don't agree with Hitler's regards."
"Yeah, that was Hochstetter. And his choleric temper drove us all up the next wall," Peter nodded.
Rooney had to stomach what he just learned. "Are you telling me that…that this whole mess here only happened because of me being shot down?" He gestured towards the little group around the injured Kommandant.
"Sort of." Newkirk lay a hand on his shoulder. "But it wasn't your fault, mate."
Rooney groaned. "Because I was too slow to avoid a serious hit, an insane guy escaped and almost killed the colonel's friend. And despite everything the colonel helped me and the others."
For a moment, Newkirk had to smile. "You have to know one thing about Colonel Hogan: He never lets someone down. You and the others were in need for help, so he helped. Just see it from another perspective. That your bird was shot down meant the freedom of eleven innocent men. Klink will make it. The old boy is tougher than you give him credit for. And the Gov'nor has overcome his shock to almost losing our 'Big Shot'. If all it forged them even closer together than anything else. And another good thing came out of the whole chaos. Hochstetter was smuggled in by a rotten bastard who tried to get rid of young Schmidt – who's on our side and a valuable alley."
"I know. I thought I would faint as I watched Colonel Hogan rise and present himself to a SS- officer who, in return, covered for him." Rooney shook his head.
"Colonel Hogan did what?" Sheridan asked, perplex. "I mean, this Schmidt guy wasn't alone. There were a few more dudes of the SS there, yet the colonel took the risk of being caught. Why?"
"To distract them from Sergeant Kinchloe and I," Rooney said. "Okay, he and Schmidt work together as it seems. And when I think how they talked this morning with each other – completely relaxed as that SS-swine left – I do believe that they trust each other in a certain way. Yet it was risky what the colonel did yesterday evening. He loves danger, doesn't he?"
"You have no idea. That man is addicted to danger," Newkirk smirked. "Anyway, after Colonel Hogan gave Hochstetter the beating of his life, the responsible staff officer for the Luft-Stalags, General Burkhalter, came running after he was informed of what happened. He and Hogan teamed up and brought the man in the background to fall. Like that, we eliminated a further danger and saved Schmidt's neck. Every coin has two sides." He glanced over the compound to the small separate building, where the little troop had vanished inside. "And Colonel Hogan belongs to those men, who always see the bright side of something. So don't worry. Neither he, nor Klink hold any grudges against you. You were shot down, and fate took its course. End of story."
"At least a story with a happy ending…hopefully," Rooney sighed, asking himself not for the first time since he stepped into this camp if he had entered a kind of parallel world.
*** HH ***
Klink groaned in relief as he was carefully placed on his bed and covered with the comforter and blankets. The familiar smell, the familiar surroundings, the familiar noises of the wooden walls – it was like coming home.
"Finally," he sighed, taking a deep breath.
Strong, yet gentle fingers encircled his. "You'll be better in no time," Robert said softly.
"Don't get your hopes up too soon," Birkhorn warned him. "Oberst Klink will need a few weeks before he is old shining self again."
"But being home helps a lot," Hogan replied, while he sat down on Wilhelm's bedside.
"I'll prepare some tea," Wilson offered, earning him a 'thank you' from the two officers, while Schultz checked the furnace. The quarters were warm and cozy, the curtains were drawn close, and the lights bathed everything in a golden light.
The front door opened, and LeBeau's voice was heard. "I'll prepare dinner," he called from the living room, followed by a "What are you doing in my kitchen?"
Hogan began to grin as he heard Wilson answering wryly, "I'm preparing some tea. Do you want to have a cup, too?"
"I'll try it before you serve it to mon Colonel and Colonel Klink. You Americans can even misdo tea." Louis sounded very skeptical, making the other men in the sleeping room chuckle.
Birkhorn bent over Klink. "Any complaints? Additional pain, headaches, something of the sort?"
Will shook his head. "No, I feel fine so far. A little tired, but the pain is bearable."
"Very good." He glanced at Hogan. "Someone should always keep him company."
"No problem," the colonel replied. "I'm here, and if not, I'll make certain that one of my men or Wilson will be."
"I'm no child," Klink protested.
"No, but work addicted like I'm, so I'm taking no risks with you testing strengths you haven't gained yet."
Will scowled at him, but his eyes shone with warmth.
They discussed some further measurements, then Birkhorn left. After having dinner, Hogan and Wilson helped Klink to do his evening toilette, then quietness spread through the building.
Robert changed into his pajamas and began to switch off the lights. His gaze found the large carpet in the dining room. Only a thin shadow showed where all the blood had been, and the new table covered the loss of the original furniture. Yet something was still under this roof – something that made Hogan shudder. He still saw the love of his life lying there, bleeding in agony, terribly afraid for his own and Robert's life. Evilness always left some invisible scars and cold breath, and somehow this seemed to lurk still within the walls.
Determined, Hogan straightened his shape. He would make certain that the dark shadows and Hochstetter's deed would leave, shooed away and replaced by better memories. Will had survived. He – Robert Hogan – had survived. The bodily harm would ebb away, and the scars in the soul would be healed by their love for each other.
As he returned to the sleeping room, he saw that Wilhelm had carefully moved aside to make room for him.
"Will, do you really think it's wise if I sleep in such a close space beside you?" he asked doubtfully, face and eyes full of concern. "What if I bump against you and hit your wound on accident?"
Klink smiled up at him. "I've dreamed of having you sleep beside me again, Rob. Don't defraud me of having you close again."
Those deep blue eyes looked at him with so much love and pleas that Hogan felt himself melting like butter in the sun. "Okay," he whispered. "Give me a minute."
Locking the front door and switching off the lights, he slipped beneath the blankets beside the older man. For a moment, he was thrown back in time as he and Will weren't lovers, but had already felt drawn to each other without a chance to withstand the pull. Turning on his right side, Rob faced his lover, offered his arm as a pillow, and smiled as Wilhelm snuggled carefully against him; sighing in content.
"You know, as terrible as this whole mess was and still is, at least we can sleep side by side again," Wilhelm whispered. "We have our own little world back."
Hogan chuckled and pressed a tender kiss against the older man's forehead. "I don't know how long we'll be this fortunate, but I intend to exaggerate it as much as possible."
Wilhelm smiled and closed his eyes, happy to be in his own four walls again, lying in the arms of his witty fox.
*** HH ***
The next morning, March 10th, Schultz got the call from his wife, who informed him that Max had been sent to the Rhine, where the Wehrmacht tried to stop the US troops from conquering the middle of Germany. Max was transferred to Coblenz, a few kilometers to the south of Remagen, where battles were raging for the train bridge that had been seized by the US. The Wehrmacht was trying to destroy the bridge, but an air attack the day prior had been for naught. The bridge was damaged, but usable. General Eisenhower had ordered General Barkley, the CO of the 4th infantry division, to cross the Rhine there. A few thousand US soldiers were already on the east side of the river and neared Coblenz from the north despite the fierce defense of the Wehrmacht.
Schultz began to tremble. Coblenz was abandoned from almost all civilians, who had been evacuated to Thuringia at the end of last year. Only approx. 9000 civilian were still there, but not on their own free will, but by force. They were important to keep the rail station and other war machinery in operation, and lived in cement bunkers in downtown. The rest hid in the old castle of Ehrenbreitstein.
Coblenz lay in ruins for months now, after it had become a clear target for the Allied Air Forces because of the main rail station there that was used for re-enforcements of the Wehrmacht. Yet the town hadn't been given up, because it was a strategically Achille's heel. Trenches were dug along the town's outer borders, debris and stones of destroyed houses were used to build new ramparts, useable building were repurposed into turrets. Faithful to the Führer's orders, Wehrmacht, SS, Volkssturm and Hitlerjugend would have to fight 'til the last breath, even if the most men (and boys) had realized that the demanded sacrifice made no sense anymore. Yet they had their orders, and everyone who would try to surrender, faced death by the hands of the own lines.
The whole area was one of the most dangerous zones in West Germany.
Max would be there – in the middle of this raging insanity.
Feeling sick to the core, Schultz called the Kommandant's quarters. There was only one man who could help now: Colonel Hogan.
*** HH ***
Robert was in deep slumber. To sleep in a cozy soft bed again, to have the still familiar surroundings and, above all, Will's proximity, did wonders to him. The last two weeks had been one big rollercoaster for him, and the new finding of peace in their own little oasis was like balm for the tensed American.
The unpleasant ringing of the telephone in the living room ripped him out of sleep. For a moment, Hogan blinked with confusion into the semi darkness, felt his lover's weight on his arm and shoulder, and began to smile as he realized where he was. Then the ringing sounded again.
Groaning, Robert freed himself from Wilhelm, careful not to wake him. For naught. As Hogan rose, Klink sighed and came around.
"Washisn?" Meaning 'what is it' – or the German version 'was ist denn' – was more to guess than to understand.
"The damn phone," Rob grumbled and walked into the living room, still stiff with the last remains of sleep. Picking up the receiver, he grumbled a "Yes?"
"Herr Hogan, it's me," Schultz said. He sounded desperate and that he addressed Robert civilly was a sign that this was strictly private.
Still a little bit groggy, Robert blinked the sleep away from his eyes, instantly knowing the reason for Schultz's call. "Where's your boy?" he asked softly.
"In Coblenz, at the Rhine River. Your comrades seized a part of the town at the other side of the river yesterday, and our men destroyed the bridges, but another attack from the US boys is expected today." Hans hoarse voice was depressed. "And your soldiers are coming from the north, too. They used the seized train bridge near Remagen to send thousands of men over the Rhine."
Hogan cursed quietly. He knew that Coblenz was one of the most embattled towns at the moment – and there half grown boys were transferred to. The Nazis were insane! "Do you know how many kids were sent?" he wanted to know, already fearing the worst.
"Max and his best friend Frank Heindel, together with over two hundred boys." Schultz cleared his throat to speak more properly. "Colonel Hogan, this is one of the most dangerous spots in the entire Western Front, and my son…"
"I know, Schultz. The boy is in a hotspot. I'll call London and inform you as soon as I get some information. Just stay calm. We'll get Max out – somehow," Hogan promised, placed the receiver on the telephone, and hastened to the bed room where a still sleepy Klink looked up at him.
"What is it?" he asked, this time more understandable.
"Schultz's son was sent to Coblenz, where our boys have already conquered a part of the town on the other side of the Rhine river, and coming from the north. I have some calls to make," Robert said, and slipped in new record time into his clothes.
"The US troops…crossed the Rhine River?" Klink wanted to know. "How much did I miss within the last few days?"
"A lot," Rob sighed. "Our men seized a bridge between Coblenz and Cologne – the latter was conquered a few days ago."
"What?" Will sat carefully up. "Cologne is liberated?"
Hogan couldn't help himself. He had to smile at the word. Hopefully the citizens saw it likewise. Putting on his bomber jacket, Robert gripped for his crush cap. "Yes, Cologne and Trier have fallen, and our boys are on the march to the east. And in the middle is Schultz's youngest son." He placed the cap on his head. "You promise me to stay in bed?"
Will carefully lay down again. "Rob, I'm not twelve anymore."
"Promise," Hogan insisted, and Klink began to pout.
"I promise."
Robert bent over him and placed a kiss on his lips. "Good boy," he teased, and hurried away before Wilhelm could reply. Unlocking the front door, he stepped out into the compound and headed to Barracks 2, cursing as the icy wind gripped for him. A few of the POWs were already outside, and he called a private over to let him inform Wilson to go to the Kommandant's quarters.
A minute later, he climbed down into the tunnels, Kinchloe was following him. They needed a few minutes more before they finally had a connection with London. Kinch offered Hogan the headset, and the colonel sat down in front of the radio.
"Coblenz?" The radioman in London HQ asked, perplexed. "That's one of the most hard fought towns in West Germany at the moment. General Barkley and his 4th infantry division are in the north of it and General Patten of the 3rd Infantry Division already reached the west-side of…"
"I know, and I'm well updated. I need to speak with General Patten before he makes the next attack," Hogan said, which earned him a surprised, "You want a direct connection to General Patten?"
"Yes, it's urgent," the colonel replied.
A sigh was to hear, then, "I don't think that's even possible, but I'll try my best to reach him or one of his staff officers. Hold for a second."
"Thank you, Mama Bear," Hogan replied, and waited. And waited.
It felt like an eternity until the radioman was back online. "Papa Bear, I reached General Patten's chief of staff, Colonel Hudson, and gave him a safe frequency. He's still on air and is waiting for you to contact him. The frequency is…" He gave Hogan the correct information, and Robert thanked him heartily. Offering Kinchloe the little piece of paper on which he had written down the frequency, James tried to get a clear connection from radio to radio in the middle of a lot of jamming.
Finally, Kinch began to grin. "Colonel Hudson? Good to hear you, sir. One moment, I'll link you to Papa Bear."
"This really has to be important if one of our top spies is trying to reach us directly," the colonel's voice sounded half confused, half irritated.
Hogan took the headset again. "Colonel Hudson, this is Papa Bear. Do you read me?"
"Clear and strong," the other officer answered. "How can I be of any support?"
Robert took a deep breath. "Colonel, I need a personal favor from you. It concerns over two hundred young kids who have been forced to hold a gun and to expect our men in Coblenz."
"Kids?" It was clear that Hudson frowned. "I was informed from London that the Krauts are now even sending younger teens to the front, but…"
"This is about them – about one particular, to be precise. He's fifteen and the youngest son of one of our most important Underground members within this area. The boy was practically kidnapped from school and forced into the service. He was able to call his mother this morning and to tell her where he and the others are being shipped off to. He's in Coblenz – used as cannon fodder."
"Do I have this right, Papa Bear? You called me that I search for one single, German boy in the middle of hundreds of Wehrmacht soldiers?"
"No, Colonel, I call you because one hand washes the other one. The boy's father has risked his neck for us and the Allied troops for three years now. Without his help, the Unsung Heroes would be already history, which means that London would have been without important information for months now. The same man also saved war booty that was stolen from the Louvre in Paris by parading as Hermann Goering, giving the French people back their cultural property."
"I heard about this coup as we liberated Paris. Quite a trick you pulled there to save the valuable paintings. And the boy you're looking for is the son of the German Underground member who played a main role in that whole mission?"
"Yes," Hogan nodded, surprised that their little trick to 'relieve' Goering from the stolen paintings had went around like this. "Said man also supported in person several of my tasks, among them the destruction of war industry and bridges. We never would have made it this far without him. To help him saving his little boy – who is only fifteen and from rather delicate nature – is a little payment for all he did for us."
For a long moment there was silence, then another sigh was to be heard. "I can't promise you anything, but I'll speak with General Patten and order to look out for a bunch of boys playing soldiers. It's really not our style to fight kids, so we will try to avoid a direct battle, but get hold of them. What's the boy's name?"
"Maximilian Schultz. He comes from Heidelberg together with his school friend Frank Heindel. He cares no tow figs about Nazi regards and propaganda and is a true son of his father."
An agreeing humming was heard, then, "I'll see what I can do for you, but don't expect any miracles. We're surrounded by pure chaos. The Krauts are fighting like crazy – or they throw their rifles away, lifting their hands, and beam at us as if we were guardian angels, almost happy to get captured."
"Well, surrender means survival – the reason why Hitler ordered the day before yesterday to arrest all families whose recruited members don't fight 'til the last breath."
"The madman did WHAT?" A groan was to hear. "That will make many things more difficult for us."
"I thought so. And now I'm coming with a personal request, therefore my sincere gratefulness for your willingness to help."
"If we find the boy, I'll inform London. Direct links are too dangerous. Wish us luck, Papa Bear – not only concerning the kid, but our whole mission."
"My men and I cross our fingers, and I hope that we'll met soon in London or elsewhere – with the war being over."
"That's a wish I support completely. Be careful, Papa Bear. To you and your boys. Colonel Hudson out." The connection was cut off, and Hogan gave Kinchloe the headset back.
"More I can't do in the moment. I hope they'll find Max." He rose while he heard Carter calling down, "Colonel, Schultzie is here."
"Like on cue," Robert moaned and climbed up the 'ladder', Kinchloe on his heels.
Schultz stood in the middle of the Barracks, pale and nervous. He kneaded his hands and looked forlornly like a little boy. His eyes technically begged Hogan for a good message.
"I spoke with one of the staff officers of the 3rd infantry division that is on the other side of the Rhine river at Coblenz," Hogan didn't mince matters. "They are warned that half-grown kids were sent as reinforcement and will try to avoid any direct confrontation, but arrest them, which would be a life guarantee for the kids. Colonel Hudson knows your son's name and that of his friend. Should they be taken captive, he'll inform London."
Schultz moistened his lips and nodded slowly. "Then let us pray that Max doesn't have to join many fights before your comrades get hold of him."
Robert heard the despair in the older man's voice and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, our men will try to avoid the kids. More they can't do. Have a little bit of faith. The Lord protected your two other sons. He certainly can do the same for your youngest one."
"And if we contact the Underground?" Newkirk suggested. "They're certainly operating around Coblenz, too. Maybe they can get the boy out."
"If you had a photo of Max, a chance to send it to them, then dozens of Underground members willing to roam the area while trying to avoid the Wehrmacht and SS in the process and the artillery of our boys, then maybe they could help," Hogan deadpanned. "If the boy would have been sent to a place where no large battles were raging, then the Underground could've done something. But not in this case."
"At least your comrades are trying to capture the boys instead of killing them," Schultz said quietly. "That is more than our regime does for them."
LeBeau clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Chin up, Schultzie. I'll make you a fine apple strudel today, d'accord?"
Schultz glanced with sad eyes down on him. "I would give all the strudels in the world if it would mean I get my little boy back healthy and alive."
The French cook sighed, glance full of understanding for once, while a chastened atmosphere waved through Barracks 2.
And the mood didn't get better as roll call was made a quarter hour later. The men lined up, were counted, and Schultz got the reports. None of them could know that the quiet time within the camp was counting down.
*** HH *** HH ***
Hogan and Klink enjoyed the peaceful time they had in their own little love nest, even if any thought of making love was out of question at the moment. Yet their affection for each other was shown in many other ways.
Robert spoiled 'his phoenix' like he had done since Will had been injured. He read to him, held him close, and he even set up the chessboard on a small table he brought into the sleeping room, setting the rooks for him. He told him stories of his childhood or holiday trips with his parents and his brother, and Klink did the same the other way around – speaking of the brighter days when he was a child in Leipzig or stories of his time at the academy in Potsdam. They shared stories of their pranks and how they rebelled during their years as teens, giving teachers the greys. Like this, the two men grew closer than ever before.
When Will slept, Rob remained beside him – sometimes lying down, sometimes sitting in his seat and reading. During the night he kept him in his arms, glad and happy that the older man had survived and was slowly getting better.
And the latter was not only because of quietness and medicine. To be back in his own quarters and Robert's presence were like balm for Wilhelm. The younger man's gentle care, his warm tenor, the love in his eyes, his grins and laughter, his sympathy and compassion – it was the first time since his childhood that Klink felt really cared for and understood. He didn't need to put on a brave mask while feeling unwell or trying to wake some pity because no one seemed to be interested in his condition. With Robert he could be himself, and it helped him a lot – especially during crises.
There were periods in which his injury really hurt, and every movement was a torture, then there were times in which only a bearable ache remained that he could ignore. Both were signals of the healing process, yet it troubled the Oberst often. It was Robert's affection that helped him to endure it, but also his witty fox's positive spirit. He wasn't alone anymore – something he still had to get used to. He suddenly had friends – real friends.
The Heroes stopped by and paid him sickbed visits, the same went for Langenscheidt and Kleiber. Even young Hauser. And one, who also showed up a few times, but also in need for comfort, was Schultz. The large Bavarian was tense and nervous, the fear for his youngest son seeming to envelop him. The unknowingness if Max was okay or not was terrible and even got him soothing words from Klink.
Kinchloe and Baker took mercy on him and checked the radio more often than usual. Olsen listened regularly to the small transistor radio they had smuggled into Barracks 2 many months ago to get news about the warfare.
Because of him, the Heroes, Klink, and Schultz learned that in the Danziger Bay the German Navy shot at the Russian positions to cover the backs of the civilians which were still evacuating, but also ensured the retreat of the German troops from Pomerania and Silesia. The northeast areas had been given up by Hitler. The Red Army had conquered this part of Germany almost completely by now. At the Western Front, the commanding officer of the Wehrmacht was replaced, but it didn't change the fact that the town of Wesel at the Rhine River had to be vacated from the Wehrmacht, Volkssturm, and Waffen SS. The American troops were unstoppable. The vacation of Wesel especially stirred up Schultz. This step was another sign how fierce the battles were raging in the area where Max was.
Despite their sympathy for Schultz, Hogan and Klink enjoyed the next day snuggled up against each other in bed, relishing in each other's proximity.
The little timeout Hogan experienced in Will's quarters was good for him. Yes, his wounds had healed and the scars on his soul were taking a back seat because of Will's love for him and his friends, but he was somehow tired. For almost three years now he had been an official POW, which wasn't really harsh because of Klink leading the camp with a human hand. But the uncounted missions he had to do in secret, the permanent threat to be revealed and caught, the everlasting presence of the Grim Reaper close by were demanding their toll now. It had been shown on Thursday as he brought the twelve men into camp. If Schmidt weren't on his side, the whole mission would have peaked into a disaster. It wasn't that Robert didn't have fun anymore with all the scheming, planning, and improvising, but every task he mastered was tiring him out more and more. Deep down in mind and soul he was exhausted. So the hours in the little building that was like a different world did wonders to him.
He took short naps beside Wilhelm or simply let his mind drift to the future while he watched over his lover's sleep.
A future that held some uncertainness for him and the man he loved. No, he couldn't imagine it without Will in it, but the risen sword of separation would come down on them after the war.
Wilhelm had a family here he certainly had to take care of. How much he worried for Wolfgang and his mother had become clear as he asked Hogan to help them should the emergency surgery fail. Klink's younger brother was crippled because of a detonation in the factory he worked in, Mother Klink had serious back issues, and, not to forget, the larger towns of Germany were already in more ruins than anything else – among them Düsseldorf. They would need help to survive even after the war, and Robert knew his secret lover well enough: Wilhelm wouldn't let his younger brother and mother down. He would be forced to remain in Germany while Hogan would be ordered back to the USA to fulfill his duty there.
He couldn't imagine continuing his old life in the Service in the States, while a new one had started here in Germany with Will. On the other hand, the only thing he ever had learned and wanted to do was to stay in the Service. After the war's end, he would be put between two chairs. So what options were left for him?
He didn't know how to reconcile everything. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to be separated from Wilhelm. He could live with a few weeks until everything was settled, but he wouldn't spend the rest of his life away from his phoenix. Never. Will had become the center of his life – his whole world. He couldn't and wouldn't live without him. So there was only one possibility left: He had to stay with Will here.
Robert frowned as his thoughts reached this point. Was he seriously pondering about ways to stay in Germany afterwards – or to return to the country that would need help to rebuild? Yes, definitely. And maybe the latter was a good beginning for everyone. If Hitler didn't surrender soon, the destruction within the country would be disastrous. There was no way on Earth the German people would make it back to a semi-normal life without help. Help from the Allies? Why not.
What came out of leaving the Germans to themselves after a catastrophic war had been seen the last time none of the victorious powers had shown interest of helping the people here, or even cared that the reputation demands were unpayable by a country that had been destroyed in many different ways. Hitler and the second war were the result. The bubble brain had seen his chance as the chaos in the Weimacher Republik had increased, had decoyed the people in trusting him by deluding them with false hopes and promises, had waved his web of lies around them until he was the most powerful man in the country and had then taken away his mask. And even then many people still trusted him until it was too late.
Something like this couldn't be repeated. Hogan didn't like the idea that – maybe – the Allies had a tiny part in Hitler's ascent by turning their backs on the guideless country that had lost its traditional government, its old values and a war – a war not Germany, but Austria had started. It was an unpleasant thought, but he couldn't deny that the other countries' ignorance had at least heightened Hitler's chance to gain so much power.
This time they had to do it better. Hogan knew that men like Roosevelt had no ambitions to help the Germans afterwards. Other voices – like this of Truman – had likewise thoughts like Hogan.
Maybe this was a chance to stay in the Service and to be together with Will: By being garrisoned here, helping to rebuild the country. The latter was more a wish than a real chance, but if he considered all given factors, it was the only chance to continue a life with Wilhelm.
During the quiet hours on Sunday afternoon, Robert made up his mind. He would return to Germany, helping those who had been victims. He would take care that he would be where Will was. Maybe he could even hire Wilhelm. Different cultures, language problems, and more would demand intermediaries between the occupation forces and the German people. Klink, being an officer, speaking very good English, and having a lot of experiences, would be perfect for the job.
Hogan smiled as the plan for the future took form. Yes, he would have to convince his superiors, but he would manage to do so somehow. And if not, he would quit and return as a private man back to Germany, getting a job for himself and Will in the same position as intermediary.
He didn't speak with Will about his ideas and plans during the evening. He didn't want to stir him up – the same reason why he still hadn't told him about Auschwitz. Yes, Klink had learned by now that among the twelve new 'POWs' were two Jewish men, and his reaction showed that he didn't share the regime's sick point of view regarding these people, but Robert thought it was too early to upset his beloved. And Klink would be upset after getting knowledge of the truth. That much was certain.
As Rob slipped into bed in the evening, he offered Will his shoulder as a pillow again and wrapped his arms around the lanky, now thin frame – satisfied that he found a few solutions to stay together with the older man.
Yes, until the war would end and they would be separated for a few weeks, a lot of time could still pass by, or only a few days. He didn't know. But one thing was for sure: He would enjoy the coming days and maybe weeks he and Will had now.
He couldn't know that the relative peace would be over the next day – that the war's horror didn't any longer stop at the camp's wires.
*** HH *** HH ***
Monday morning and the new interims Kommandant still didn't show up. Schultz simply gave up trying to reach Burkhalter in Berlin and accepted his fate to be in charge for longer now. With Hogan helping him with the difficult administration work, he could manage the task. At least if nothing unusual happened – and that was the sticking point fate chose to use.
It was around midday as the chaos began. Eight trucks jolted over the small street towards Stalag 13, accompanied by half a dozen motorcycles and two guards on the loading bed of each truck wearing Wehrmachts grey.
A few minutes later, Langenscheidt entered the Kommandantur and was all aflutter. He knocked and practically stormed into the office before Schultz could even call "Enter."
"Schultz, you have to come. You…you won't believe what…"
Hans lifted a warning finger. "Corporal, first it is Kommandant Schultz when we're on duty. Second: Next time wait before I call you in. And third…"
"And third we have eight truck loadings full with timber, nails, roofing paper and so on to hand over to Leutnant von Friedrichstein," Karl interrupted him out of breath.
That got Schultz's attention. "What did we get?"
"You heard me. And the leader of the escort is highly irritated that we stopped him at the gates saying that we should hurry up. After all…"
"If you want to speak with the current Kommandant, you have to wait until I announce you, Herr Hauptmann," Hilda's voice sounded through the open door – unusually sharp for once.
"Lady, when I see the additional time I need to circumvent those damn excuses of streets, you should be grateful that I make this here urgent, or your camp will get into serious trouble!"
Schultz rose and stepped to the door. His gaze found a Hauptmann of the Heer, whose dirty uniform showed that he was 'in the field' for longer now. He waved a few documents in front of Hilda's face, who had risen and stemmed her small hands into her slender waist, glaring at the officer.
"What's going on here?" Schultz demanded.
The Hauptmann turned around, saluted – and let his hand sink only a moment later as he recognized Schultz's badges of rank that he was facing a sergeant and not a lieutenant. Yet the Bavarian's large figure, stern voice, straight composure, and firm glance demanded some respect.
"Sergeant, I'm looking for Leutnant von…" he began, but was interrupted.
"Then you're not the only one who's looking for him, Herr Hauptmann. Leutnant von Friedrichstein isn't here, wasn't here, and as it seems, won't be here in the near future." Hans closed the distance to the younger man. "Sergeant Schultz, current Kommandant of Stalag 13." He introduced himself.
"Hauptmann Thomas Zumrode," the other man said politely. "Sergeant, my men and I are bringing you the first half of the needed construction material for the future Barracks. I'm sorry that we needed so long to reach the camp, but we waited for days until the first delivery to load reached us and…"
Schultz lifted a hand. "What do you mean 'for the future Barracks?' I haven't ordered anything I didn't already get, and I would remember if I would have required material for additional Barracks. Hell, we don't even need more Barracks than we already have."
The Hauptmann stared at him, a little bit nervous by now. "Sergeant, the Barracks are for the POWs which will arrive within the next four or five days. I got information from Berlin that Leutnant von Friedrichstein would take care that the camp would be enlarged until our delivery so that you can instantly begin with the building of the huts. We hurried after we finally got the goods, but the many air attacks, the bad condition of the streets, and especially organizing everything costed a lot more time than we thought."
Very slowly Schultz was becoming nervous. "What POWs? Like I told you, Leutnant von Friedrichstein never showed up to the camp. I tried to reach General Burkhalter considering this matter, but he hasn't called back until now, and so…"
"B-b-b-but I got the orders to deliver the material to Stalag 13 from General Burkhalter. He called me seven days ago because of it. He told me that the needed material was ordered and would reach us soon, and he also said that everything in the camp would be arranged until we arrive." He handed Schultz the sheets of paper. "Here are the delivery documents."
Hans scanned them quickly and felt his mouth going dry. "Hauptmann Zumrode, pray to tell me for what we're going to need twenty more Barracks for?"
The officer sighed. "Sergeant, a whole troop of POWs are heading to this camp. The general told me that you would have won space for the Barracks by cutting down trees to enlarge the area and extending the wires. As my men and I neared the camp, I thought this was done on the other side that isn't in view when you come down the road. I was ordered to bring you the construction material, so that the current POWs can begin to…" He stopped as he saw Schultz's absolutely horrified face. "You learned about everything just now from me, didn't you."
Schultz took a deep breath. "Hilda, connect me with General Burkhalter. And even if someone has to drag him away from a meeting with the Führer for it, I. Do. Not. Care!" Hans almost thundered and returned with quick steps into his office shocked, furious, and highly worried.
"Of how many POWs do we speak here?" He asked, already trying to figure out how to stem this problem.
"Approximately 1000 or so. They've been evacuated from Camp 64 in Schuben – Poland – and…"
"A thousand?" Schultz's voice was far too high. "And I shall pen them up in 20 Barracks which aren't even built? Our Barracks hold no more than 15 – 20 people, what you imply would mean 50 or more per building. That is inhuman. I have no beds for them, no pillows and blankets, no nourishment, not enough shower rooms, and I can't tell what else for God's sake! Our camp is full!"
"Sergeant, I spoke with the office of General Burkhalter," Hilda interrupted while she appeared in the threshold. "I made it a Priority One call and demanded a direct connection with him saying we're on Red Alert here."
The two men looked with large eyes at her before Zumrode commented wryly, "You haul out the big guns when necessary."
She shrugged. "If there is no other chance."
"What did they say?" Hans asked.
"His secretary is trying to reach him in the Führerbunker, where he currently is."
"Good!" Schultz nodded, and took a deep breath while he pointed at the visitor seat. "Please, sit down, Herr Hauptmann. We'll wait for General Burkhalter's call. And in the meantime, you can tell me more about the troop of POWs which is on its way here."
TBC…
Yes, you read correctly: Almost 1000 new POWs, who come from Camp 64. And they weren't 'transferred', but had to walk for more than six weeks. Another big crime that was done by the regime. This is history, too, and the real Stalag 13 was hopelessly overchallenged with it – something that will happen also to Klink's camp. Schultz, Hogan and Schmidt will have to use any bag of tricks to manage the new challenge, and accordingly to this all, everything will lead to a big chaos…
The next chapter will be about this new challenge. Schultz will show one time more that he wasn't the boss of a whole factory for naught, Hogan is back in his element because his talent of improvise is needed, Schmidt uses his rank and unit to help, and one time more it is proved how strong a group can be if the members stick together.
I hope, you liked the new chapter. Not everything was 'dark', after all our two love-birds have their little home back, but more and more the shadows of the war are reaching for Stalag 13…
Like always, I would be happy to get some reviews/comments/kudos.
Have a nice start into the next week,
Love
Yours Starflight
