Hi, my dear readers,
thank you so much for the feedback, and I'm glad that you like the new part of the story that bases on real history, but was changed concerning names, ranks, etc. And now, at least, our two lovebirds have their own little 'nest' back, but they won't be undisturbed for long – last but not least because of everything the future holds for the camp now.
In this chapter, the big nasty news will take everyone by surprise – solutions have to be found, no matter what. The evacuated POWs are coming, and they need places to sleep, to heal and to get clean. Not an easy task seeing that Stalag 13 is already bursting with prisoners.
Schultz will show his good hidden, yet strong nature once again, Hogan knows that it's up to him to make plans and Klink is aware of the fact that the tame of calmness is over for him – despite his injury. He's still the Kommandant of this camp, and if he's really needed, he acts on it.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 78 – Hasty arrangements
In Hogan's quarters, the Heroes gaped with open mouths at each other. The 'coffee pot' was on, and the two Germans' voices had been understandable until a few seconds ago, when Kinchloe closed the link completely thunderstruck.
"Over one thousand…" he began, but couldn't finish the sentence.
"They can't do this," Carter protested. "They simply can't. Where are they all gonna stay? We barely have room for ourselves, and we have to line up to get into the showers. A thousand more men would mean…"
"We do not have enough food," LeBeau groused, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I talked with the camp's cook yesterday, and he said that Schultzie has to order new nourishment in the middle of the week. When the guys show up, we all get as good as nothing between our teeth."
"Now you would prefer a sandwich, huh?" Newkirk taunted, but before LeBeau could give him a fitting answer, Olsen's voice rang out from the other room.
"Colonel Hogan's going to the Kommandantur."
"He'll be delighted about the news," Kinch commented sarcastically, nodded at his friends, and re-opened the link.
*** HH ***
The noise the eight trucks had made had awoken Hogan and Klink's curiosity. Looking out of the window, Robert saw the many trucks headed towards the camp's main gates. For a long moment, he had thought that a Wehrmacht troop wanted to stay overnight. Then he saw long wooden beams projecting out of the load beds, and he knew that something wasn't right.
"Wooden beams?" Klink asked, who lay in bed and looked up with big eyes at Rob. "For what?"
"I have no clue, but I saw Langenscheidt practically racing from the front gates to your office. Something's going on, that much I know for sure." He slipped into his bomber jacket. "I'll go over and try to get some information. Stay here. I'll be back as quickly as possible."
Carefully, Wilhelm sat up. "If they want to change something in my camp, then only with my permission."
Robert lifted a calming hand. "Don't fret, I'll take care of everything."
"Knowing your talent for chaos, I…"
"Hon, trust me. I promised you to protect the camp, and I intend to keep my word." He put his crush cap on his head. "Remain in bed. I'll let you know what these guys want." He quickly crossed the living room and stepped out into the compound. Frowning, he saw now that the trucks had not only loaded wooden beams, but material needed to build something – a new Barracks, for example. Getting a wrenching gut feeling, Hogan walked towards the Kommandantur, preventing himself from running.
A minute later he stepped into the building, where Hilda just picked up the ringing phone. She lifted a hand to stop him before he could enter Klink's office and listened to the other end of the line.
"General Burkhalter? Thank the Lord. We have been trying to reach you for days now, sir…Yes, I made it a Priority One call, and we do have a kind of Red Alert here. I'll put you through now. One moment please." She pressed the button on the phone and addressed Hogan. "Could you please tell Schultzie that I have General Burkhalter on the line?"
"Really got me myself a job as your colleague, didn't I?" he half joked, half sighed, pulled up his crush cap, knocked on the door, and stepped in. Schultz looked up – pale, red spots on his face, eyes wide, and white hair tousled as if he had combed through it with spread fingers. In front of the desk sat a strange man in a Wehrmacht captain uniform and looked rather nervous, too.
"Sergeant, Fräulein Hilda has General Burkhalter on the line," he reported, following protocol for once.
"FINALLY!" Schultz almost cried and lifted the receiver the moment the telephone rang. "Herr General, I…"
"Schultz? Is that you? Where is Leutnant von Friedrichstein?"
"Herr General…"
"I don't know what's going on at Stalag 13, but any complaints because of the new orders are unacceptable. If you think you can discredit Leutnant von Friedrichstein, I guarantee you that you're at the Eastern or Western Front quicker than you can cry for help," Burkhalter's angry voice sounded through the tiny speaker.
"No, Herr General, it isn't about…"
"The Leutnant has a very good reputation, and I spoke with him in person the day after I arrived in Berlin. I'm sure that he is capable of preparing everything for the new arrivals."
"Herr General, I didn't call because…"
"Whatever it is, I have no time for whining because your POWs have to do some work for once," Burkhalter interrupted him. "The Führer is at the Eastern Front, leading generals have new duties…
"Herr General, we have a serious issue here. We just…"
"I wait for new instructions and get a new task," the Austrian continued his tirade, as if he hadn't heard Schultz, "And you make a Priority One call only because Hogan and you have some problems with Leutnant von Friedrichstein's orders he got from me in person! If…"
"LEUTNANT VON FRIEDRICHSTEIN NEVER SHOWED UP!"
Hogan and Zumrode flinched at the outburst, and even Hilda appeared at the threshold with big eyes.
Silence.
For a short moment, there was only silence on the line, and Schultz already thought he had overdone it. On the other hand, he didn't care that he just yelled at his highest ranking superior. The camp was about to go downhill, the survival of 'his' POWs and the incoming ones depended on the next few days, and Hans couldn't care less that he just broke dozens of protocol rules.
"I beg your pardon?" Burkhalter sounded flabbergasted.
"You heard me, Herr General. Leutnant von Friedrichstein never arrived. It is the reason why I have been trying to reach you for many days now."
"He didn't…but I met him in Berlin shortly after my return and sent him to Stalag 13 with detailed orders concerning the new POWs being sent to your camp." Shock and confusion echoed in his voice.
"Now we're getting to the real reason why I made this a Priority One call," Schultz replied, unusually firm. "Hauptmann Zumrode is sitting in front of me and bringing me material for ten of twenty planned Barracks for approximately 1000 new prisoners."
Hogan gasped, eyes large as saucers. "What?"
Schultz looked up at him while he continued. "He also told me that they're to be expected within the next four or five days. Can you tell me where I'm supposed to accommodate them? We can't pile them up until the Barracks are built."
"Schultz, I…"
"Then there is the question about the supplies. Food, blankets, pillows, washing utensils, tables, chairs, ovens, beds…Our shower rooms are barely enough for our current prisoners; a thousand more would mean that the last one can wash around midday or afternoon. We do not have enough guards for the watch and no space to build the damn Barracks. I have no wires to enlarge the camp's area, not to speak of the fact that our generator is too old and too patched up to produce power for twenty more Barracks. Our area is full. We have to cut down hundreds of trees on the other side of the fence before we can even think of enlarging Stalag 13. It…"
"Sergeant, I know that this can't be done in three days," Burkhalter sounded understanding for once. "I don't know what happened to Leutnant von Friedrichstein, but he was expected at Stalag 13 last Monday – means you would be done with enlarging the camp's area now and would have started with rising the Barracks. I also thought that the material would reach you around Friday so that you…"
"Hauptmann Zumrode had to wait for the material until Saturday and had to make a lot of detours because of the destroyed traffic system. We can twist and turn everything a dozen times, Herr General, the result will remain the same: We're simply not able to accommodate so many additional POWs without any preparations." His gaze had wandered to the captain and returned now to a very tense Hogan while he spoke into the receiver. "Is there any chance to send them to another camp that maybe has more space?"
Burkhalter sighed. "I don't think so. The men are on the march since the 21st of January and…"
"WHAT?" The large Bavarian didn't trust his ears. "On the march? You're telling me that they are walking to our camp since the 21st of January?"
Hogan felt how all the color left his face, and his knees became weak with horror. This couldn't be. Throwing his cap beside Klink's Pickelhaube, he stemmed the hands on the desk surface and stared at Schultz, who turned the receiver a little bit so that the American was able to hear Burkhalter, too.
"Exactly," the general affirmed. "They're walking."
Schultz felt sick at the pure imagination that those men were walking for one and a half months now – day by day through ice and snow without enough time to rest and certainly enough food. "How far away is Camp 64?" he asked, fearing the worst.
"Approximately 640 km," Burkhalter replied.
The large Bavarian could only gape for a moment before he whispered. "640 km. That is approximately 400 miles – by foot! Through ice and snow! At those low temperatures! That…that is inhumane."
His glance hung on Hogan, whose face flushed now with rage. Those monsters. Those God-damned, bestial monsters. "Have the Geneva Conventions ceased to exist?" he snarled. "Or don't they count for Hitler anymore?!"
"Is that Colonel Hogan in the background?" Burkhalter demanded.
"Yes. After all, his men have to build the new Barracks, don't they?" Schultz replied harshly. He took a deep breath. "Herr General, is there a chance that the men can be brought to a camp that is closer to their route, or…"
"They were supposed to walk to a camp near Hannover, but it already took prisoners from a KZ in and have no room anymore. Stalag 13, on the other hand, has the chance to be enlarged. So the choice fell last Saturday evening on Hammelburg as an alternative." The staff officer sounded calm again. "The only other option would be to send them to Dachau and…"
"Dachau?" Schultz echoed and watched how Hogan's expression turned murderous. He couldn't blame the younger man. He himself felt the strong urge to strangle those who were responsible for this inhumane situation. "That would mean around 250 km (approx. 155 miles) more for the men – and Dachau is a Hell hole even the devil would try to avoid," Hans growled, not caring that he gave away his own opinion that stood in strong contrast to the expected regards. "Send the men to Stalag 13. We will manage – somehow."
"Now we're on the same page, Schultz…"
"I don't think that we're 'on the same page', Herr General. We never were and never will be," Schultz replied sharply. "Despite the damn war, I'm still a Christian who heeds the doctrines of our Lord Jesus. 'Whatsoever you do to one of least of these, my brothers and sisters, you do to me.'"
"We're not in a meeting of a Bible study, Schultz," Burkhalter snapped.
"No, you are right. This is no Bible study, but bears the stamp of Satan. These men may be our official enemies, but they're still human beings. And if I were you, Herr General, I would start praying that maybe the Lord will forgive you someday, because the West Allies will not when they take over. POWs are protected by special rules – rules which were broken now. You sent those men on a death walk and…"
"It was not me who gave the order to send prisoners to other camps by walking!" Out of nowhere, Burkhalter had the urge to defend himself. "It was Himmler. I tried to reason with him, but he didn't listen. Those men from Camp 64 are only a hand full compared with all the prisoners walking towards Middle Germany by now. At least the POWs from Schubin have almost reach their destination and…"
"We need the supplies I spoke of a few minutes ago," Schultz interrupted him again, showing the firm side of the boss of a company he had been prior to the war. "Furniture, ovens, beddings, washing utensils, enough nourishment…"
"Several trucks are on their way to Stalag 13 to bring field beds, stock beds, beddings, bedclothes, ovens and sinks." This time it was Burkhalter who did the interrupting. "I thought they've already arrived, too, but I'm sure that they're coming today or tomorrow." He hesitated. "But without Barracks…"
"We'll come up with a solution," Schultz said, with a strength he didn't feel. "The POWs from Camp 64 are welcomed here."
A short snort was to hear. "We?" The general echoed. "Why do I have a certain feeling that you mainly mean Hogan with 'we'?"
"Because let's face it: Colonel Hogan is the quickest thinker in the area and gets ideas others wouldn't even dream of." He looked up at Hogan, whose face was still flushed with seething anger. "Yet despite the coming cargo, we still need a lot more."
"The camp's budget…"
"The budget for March won't be enough! And there is also the fact that our money has lost all value. So support has to be brought on order – orders from the staff. Seeing that you disagree with the way the men were brutally handled, I assume that you are ready to use your influence of rank to send the supplies we need to do our duty. I expect deliveries and more guards to support ours within the next three days so that I can offer the prisoners at least the tiniest things they need to live and also for the safety of the camp."
"Schultz…" It sounded warningly now, but the sergeant ignored it.
"Do you know if the men have any illnesses? Spotted fever, diarrhea, etc. If so, I have to separate them to prevent an epidemic within the camp."
"No, of course not. I have no clue how they're doing, but I know that those who were ill or too weak to walk were left behind in the camp. It was conquered by the Red Army two days later. I don't know what happened to those who began the walk but were too sick to continue."
Hogan gritted his teeth, his hands balled into fists. "Woe they were hurt," he hissed.
"You can grouse after this talk all you want," Schultz whispered beneath his breath. "But now stay calm, for God's sake." He took a deep breath and asked strongly, "How many POWs were still at Camp 64?"
"Approximately 1,450, but a hundred or so were left there, because they were ill. I also heard that circa 200 men escaped from the marching column. They returned to the camp to get 'liberated' by the Russians. Therefore, more than 1,100 are still on the walk. I heard that a few didn't make it, but I have no real number. Are you sure that you can stem the problem of taking all of them in without any preparations until now?"
Schultz took a deep breath while he lied through his teeth, "As I said, Herr General, we'll manage." If he only knew how. Straightening his shape, he added firmly, "Please excuse me now. I have a lot to do."
"Schultz!"
"Have a safe stay down in the Führerbunker, Herr General. Far away from snow, ice, wind, and falling bombs. Auf Wiederhören!"
He all but threw the receiver on the phone with disgust, then the enormity to which he had agreed settled in. For a moment he sat there like turned to stone, then he covered his face with both hands. "What have I done?" he whispered.
"640 km through this icy winter without any shelter and food? Himmler should be hung up with his feet first!" Hogan exploded, eyes burning with fury. "And Burkhalter isn't any better. 'A few didn't make it.' Of course not, they walked until they died of exhaustion or hypothermia – or starved. And this fat Sacher cake sits down in a bunker and speaks of them as if they were animals!"
Zumrode stared at the American officer. Who was this man that he dared to burst into the office and speak like this in the presence of the current camp's Kommandant?
Schultz felt an intense headache approaching. He combed his fingers through his already tousled hair shuddering. "Good God, what have I done?" he repeated, this time louder. "How am I to take all these men in without any preparations? We have nothing to offer – no Barracks, no beds, not enough food. What shall I do with these poor guys when they show up, hungry and exhausted, and the only difference between their walk to here and the camp being a few wires?!"
Hogan gritted his teeth, but tamed his wrath as he heard the despair in Schultz's voice. The large Bavarian was right. This was an almost unmanageable task – only because Schultz hadn't the heart to deny the men a place to stay. "Thanks for not sending them away, Schultz," he said quietly. "I don't think many of them would make it to Dachau, not to speak of what they would have to expect there."
Hans looked up. "There was no other choice possible, Colonel. These men are walking through a hell of ice for weeks. I couldn't repel them, but what now? They're here in four or five days and…what shall I do now, Colonel Hogan?"
Robert cursed for a moment as he saw the helplessness the older man radiated with. Then his rational side won over his anger, and his mind began to do what it could do best: Scheming.
"We have to come up with a plan." He went to the wall where the map of Stalag 13 hang. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he observed the map before he pointed to the south. "Here is the only chance to enlarge the area. No street, no river, no other natural hindrances except for trees and bushes." He tapped his finger at the spot. "If we clear out the woods on a room of two hundred meters and built the Barracks in a tighter space, we'll spare time."
Schultz rose and stepped beside him. "Ja, I see it likewise. The terrain is ground-levelled, which will make the rising of Barracks' easier – and it spares time."
Hogan nodded, but his face became grim. "Yet we're going to need two or three weeks until everything is built. The men have to stay somewhere during that time. We need to figure out how to shelter them and parallel how to rise huts out of nothing despite the material the captain brought us."
A sigh escaped the Sergeant of the Guard's mouth. "Any idea?" he asked.
"I'll think of something," Hogan replied. "I suggest that you, I, a few of our men who are familiar with constructions and building houses, Medic Wilson, your chief cook, supply officer, my team, and Langenscheidt have a meeting in Oberst Klink's quarters. Hauser should join it, too. I'm sure that a lot of the men are in need for medical help, and young Hauser can assist Wilson. They're a good team."
"I'll call for them," Schultz nodded, relieved as Hogan took over charge.
"Good. We have to make plans where to accommodate the men when they arrive until the new Barracks are ready. Furthermore, we have to work out technical details. You're right that our generator won't be able to supply the camp any longer with the needed power during the nights if so many Barracks are added." He glanced at Zumrode. "Is another generator among the goods you transported?"
The captain stared at him, rose, and looked at Schultz. "Sergeant, has this man a right to ask me somethi…"
"Colonel Hogan is our senior POW officer," Hans interrupted him, "And his men are going to build the new Barracks. So, yes, he can ask you those questions."
The Hauptmann shook his head before he disbelievingly snorted. "The senior POW officer and the Kommandant work hand in hand. This is the craziest POW camp I ever visited," he murmured. He glanced back at Hogan. "No, we have no generator among the goods and no wires or other electrical parts. Only construction material for ten Barracks."
Hogan pressed his lips into a thin line before he addressed a very pale Hilda, who still stood at the threshold. "Call the Hammelburg Electricity Company and ask if there's a chance to supply us with more power – or if they can deliver us a second generator."
"O-okay," Hilda nodded with a dry mouth and went to the anteroom. She knew exactly that the intaking of more than a thousand new POWs could lead to a disaster. It was too much in a far too short range of time.
"How many saws and axes do we have?" Hogan asked Schultz.
"Dozens – but that won't be enough," Hans sighed.
"In the north of Hammelburg is a sawmill. Maybe they can lend us some saws for a few days," Hogan suggested, and the large Bavarian made an affirming gesture.
"I'll phone them."
"Good. But before we make any plans concerning the rising of new Barracks, we have to come up with an idea how to give the men weatherproof places to stay."
"Maybe the Big Shot has an idea – or one of your men," Hans murmured hopefully.
"Don't worry, Schultz. We'll come up with something."
The same moment the telephone rang, and Schultz returned to his desk to pick it up. "Ja?" He asked. His eyes widened. "H-H-H-Herr Kommandant?"
Hogan whirled around like he had been bitten by an antler, paling. "Don't tell me he left the bed and…"
"Herr Oberst, we're on our way to update you, but you have to remain in bed, sir!" Schultz had lifted a warning index finger as if he would speak with one of his children, even if Klink couldn't see him. "What? No, but…"
Robert had closed the distance to the desk and tore the receiver out of Schultz's hand. "Wi… Colonel Klink?" he almost shouted into the microphone; remembering in the last second that a stranger was present and shouldn't learn that the Kommandant and his senior POW officer were on the first-name-base. "Stay where you are. Don't move! I'm on my way to help you back to bed." He pushed the receiver back into Schultz's hand and hastened to the door. "Call the others, Schultz. We'll meet at Klink's in a few. And organize the axes and saws. The sooner we start, the better." With those words, he all but raced out of the office and through the anteroom, down the stairs into the compound, and began to ran, not caring that a few guards were calling to him.
Schultz let the receiver fall on the desk surface, went to the right window, and opened it. "GUARDS, LET COLONEL HOGAN PASS!" he shouted before closing the window again.
Hauptmann Zumrode looked at him with an open mouth before he snapped it shut. "May I ask a personal question?" As he received a short nod, he continued. "Who's really in charge of this camp?"
Schultz began to snort. "To admit the truth, that's a question I've asked myself for almost three years now."
*** HH ***
Robert all but burst into Klink's quarters, stopped breathlessly at the threshold to the living room, and looked around. There was no one at the telephone, but a second later Hogan saw the lanky figure of his lover sitting on the sofa, clad in his warm, dark blue bathrobe.
"Will!" he half sighed, half growled. "For God's sake, you promised me to stay in bed!" Angrily, he closed the distance to the older man, who was pale, but also wore a determined expression on his white face.
"What's going on outside," he demanded, ignoring the irritation that shimmered in his beloved's dark eyes. "Trucks with construction material, guards running around like lost chickens after they talked with the men of the truck's escort, and you vanish for more than a quarter of an hour now in the Kommandantur where you originally only wanted to ask why those trucks are here."
"Will…"
"Something's happened, and I want to know what it is." His voice was quiet, but held a very firm note. He was weak, in pain, and dizzy after being up for the first time in almost two weeks, but the leading officer had woken up completely in Klink. Even with broken feathers the Iron Eagle still lived in the Oberst.
And Hogan saw it. He couldn't blame Wilhelm. If he would be in his position, he would react likewise. They both were leaders by nature, and even if Klink had forgotten for a few years to use his backbone, he did it now. If it came to Stalag 13, the older man became the warrior again he had been in earlier times.
Robert sighed deeply. "Okay, update. But you first tell me if you're okay after this stupid trip to the telephone."
Klink grimaced, then he nodded shortly. "I'm okay, Rob. My knees feel like they're filled with pudding and I am cold, but otherwise I'm alright."
For a long moment, Hogan observed him closely, then his face softened. With a groan, he slipped out his bomber jacket. "You give me the greys, you know." Throwing the jacket on the arm rest of the sofa, he walked to the sleeping room and got the comforter he spread over Klink's lap before he sat down beside him. Only now he realized that he had left his crush cap in the Kommandantur.
"We're getting an addition to the family, so to say," he reported.
"An addition?" Klink cocked his head. "This has to be a big addition seeing that eight trucks are bringing material for new Barracks."
"The occupants of Camp 64 are on their way to Stalag 13."
"Camp 64?" Klink blinked. "If I remember correctly, it's mostly an Oflag for American officers now who were captured in Tunisia during the North Africa Campaign in 1943. More Americans were sent there after the battles in Normandy, mostly officers, but also privates and ground personnel. English and French POWs were also brought to the camp. It's somewhere in Poland near Posen, if I'm not mistaken, so…" He stopped, and his eyes widened. "All occupants are coming to Stalag 13? It has to be hundreds!"
"More than a thousand by how Burkhalter told us 'kindly'," Hogan replied, the anger in his eyes turned back into fury. "And they've been on the walk since the 21st of January."
For a moment, Wilhelm could only stare at the younger man. "What?" he breathed disbelievingly. "On the walk?"
"Yes…they've been on the road for more than seven weeks now – square through ice and snow. 400 miles, can you imagine that?" He was unaware that he had balled his hands into fists. "Burkhalter said that 'a few didn't make it', but he doesn't know how much died during this damn march. And still he threatened that they would be sent to Dachau if we don't take them in, so…"
"To Dachau? That would be 250 km more," Klink almost shouted, then he frowned. "You said Burkhalter 'threatened' – past tense. So, Schultz agreed of accommodating them?"
Rob took a deep breath. "Yes." In the next few minutes he told Klink what happened in the office and what the current status of the whole chaos was. Wilhelm was even paler afterwards; shocked, angry, but also highly worried.
"This is insane at best. Where will the men stay? We have no…"
The door opened, and a moment later someone knocked at the door frame to the living room. "Herr Kommandant?" It was Schultz, who stepped in. The men Hogan had asked for were accompanying him.
"Schultz!" Klink looked up at him. "Have you lost your mind? How shall we take in all those men without even a bed to offer them?"
"Beds are on the way to our camp, as well as more axes and saws. The manager of the sawmill agreed to lend them to us for a few days," the sergeant replied, sounding tired while he gave Hogan the crush cap he had forgotten in the office. Hogan accepted the kind gesture with a soft "Danke."
"And all the food we're going to need." Wilhelm glanced at the camp's main cook and the supply officer. "I need a detailed record of the staple food we still have and how long it will last if we have 1,000 more POWs."
"Thousand, Herr Kommandant?" the cook asked, alerted.
"You heard me," Klink nodded, before he addressed the supply officer, "I also need a list of everything we're going to need for so many prisoners. Soap, toilet paper, bed cloths, blankets…I need a calculation concerning the capacity of our showers and restrooms. We have to order new wires for the enlargement of the fence and to supply the new Barracks with electricity. I need this shopping list in two hours at the latest, so please, gentlemen, don't waste any time."
The two men were completely thunderstruck, but saluted quickly and left. Hogan's men, Wilson, Hauser, Langenscheidt, and Schultz remained as well as two other POWs the colonel recognized as Milford and Miller. He knew that they had worked in the building sector prior to the war, and he decided that they would be responsible for the project. "How long do you think it'll be until we've risen twenty Barracks – doubled the size of our current ones?"
The men had pulled up their caps. "When the ground is ready to be used and we got plans on how to build them, certainly more than two weeks, Sir," Milford answered. "And that's only if more than 70 or 80 men work on one Barracks per shift."
"In other words, the next two weeks or so the poor men have to sleep in Mother Nature," Klink murmured. "Impossible."
"Construction plans for the Barracks we built here are still in the Kommandantur," Schultz said. "They can serve as a base. Can you change them for the larger Barracks'?"
Milford nodded. "Yes, when I get the needed equipment to do so. Large and normal sized leaves of paper, circle, pencil, etc. We can't simply double the size of the Barracks; we have to make new calculations for the static."
"And we also have to fill up the ground to make at least something close to a foundation," Miller added. "Gravel and soil, for example."
"What about pipes for the water supply?" Kinch spoke up. "Every Barracks has at least one sink, so…"
"Sinks are on the way, too," Schultz said. "The only question is where do we get the pipes from?"
Klink rubbed his forehead. "Good God, we can't build a whole new part of camp overnight. It's simply impossible."
"That's why we should start as quickly as possible," Newkirk suggested. "Those guys from the trucks are already antsy to unload the material they brought." He nodded into the direction where the trucks were.
"I know that they are in hurry, because they have to pick up the second part of the whole delivery," Schultz sighed. "But to tell them where to leave the material within the camp, we first have to agree on how to proceed. I sent them to the casino where they can have some tea or coffee."
"Well done, Schultz," Klink nodded. "Now we have to…Robert?"
Hogan stared at Schultz, then clapped a hand in front of his head and began to laugh. "Sometimes you don't see the wood because of too many trees. Silly me." He grinned at the large Bavarian. "You're a genius, Schultzie."
Becoming nervous, Hans said, "I've done nnnnothing, Colonel Hogan. I…"
"That's the solution, Schultz. The casino, the rec hall, the infirmary, maybe also the officers' mess…" He grinned. "We can accommodate at least 250 or 300 of the men there."
Wilhelm's eyes widened. "That could work. And the rest?"
"We can't pile them up in the Barracks, and the compound is completely unprotected," Carter said. "If we had summer, there wouldn't be a problem to line the field beds up outside, but it's the middle of winter. And to put more beds between ours would mean that everyone would have to climb to go to bed."
"You and I always have to climb up to our beds, or can you fly?" Newkirk teased.
Hogan looked at the youngest member of his team. "What did you just say?"
"That we can't put beds between ours because…"
"Carter, I could kiss you." Rising and beaming like mad, Hogan hurried to the telephone.
"Pray to tell me what's going on in that crazy mind of yours?" Will wanted to know, eliciting a few chuckles of the others, while Miller and Milford glanced confused from the German Kommandant to their own superior and back. Yes, that both colonels got along rather well was known within the camp, but this here…the two fit together like a pair of old shoes.
"Hilda? It's me. Be so nice and call your sweetheart. I needed him on the line yesterday. Thank you." Robert placed the receiver back down and turned around. He had to laugh quietly as he saw ten confused faces.
"Why do you want to speak with Schmidt?" Klink asked.
"Not only with him. Afterwards we have to speak with Burkhalter again."
"Oh no, please," Schultz groaned. "I don't think he's out of sorts with me yet."
Alarmed, Wilhelm glanced at him. "What did you do?"
Hans kneaded his hands. "Let's just say that my way of talking to him was a little bit out of protocol."
Klink threw up his hands. "Super, Schultz. Getting General Burkhalter to agree to something will be so much easier now."
The telephone rang, and Hogan accepted the call. "Hilda? Yes, thank you." He waited a moment until he heard Schmidt's voice. "Schmidt? It's me, Colonel Hogan. Lieutenant, Stalag 13 has a big problem, and we're in need for help." He listened for a moment and smiled a bit. "No, no crazy guys shooting around, and no attempt of a mass escape – for the latter I wouldn't call you." He winked at Klink, who only rolled his eyes. "No, the camp has to ramp up, and the reason for it can also have some influence on Hammelburg. I think it would be best if you come over." Again he listened before he said, "Schmidt, believe me, this whole issue demands a cooperation between camp and town, and I'm sure the citizens of Hammelburg will be glad when you're prepared for everything that will happen in the next few days. After all, you are a kind of policeman and therefore responsible for the citizens, aren't you?" He nodded slowly. "Okay, we'll wait for your arrival. And Schmidt? Be careful when you race around the bending shortly before you reach the camp. A few trucks could block the way, and there is ice on the street. Goodbye." He hung up and rubbed his hands. "Good, that was the first step."
"Hogan?" When Klink called him by his family name like in earlier times, it meant pure business.
Looking at the older man, the American officer said, "The solution for our problem is easy: We use some of the delivered planks to build a roof for the motor pool. Then we put the tables and chairs from the Barracks inside and create its own kind of mess hall. For this we're going to need a few ovens, electricity, lamps, etc. It will be poky, but if we eat to two or three shifts, it will work. Then we push our stock beds closer together and with the won space, including the won room of the removed tables and chairs, we rise new stock beds. We have more than 120 Barracks. If we can accommodate five or six men more per Barracks, everyone has their own sleeping place. The rest will live in the infirmary, the rec hall, and the casino – and the officers' mess. I know, it's not a pleasant solution, but it will only be until we've risen the new Barracks."
Klink nodded slowly, while Schultz and Langenscheidt exchanged an uneasy glance. To lose the casino and the officers' mess wouldn't go well with the guards, but what the heck.
"And what do you want from Schmidt?" Will asked his beloved.
"We need more equipment," Rob replied and glanced at Schultz. "What about a new generator or…"
"Fräulein Hilda spoke with the electricity company in Hammelburg. They see no big chance to provide us with more power – or to send us a generator. Sorry, Colonel," the large Bavarian said quietly.
Hogan smirked and looked back at Klink. "Now you know what I need Schmidt for. He can get us one. The SS is the secret power within this country, and if a higher ranking SS-officer requires something, it's practically an order. He certainly can get one."
"And Burkhalter?"
"We need a lot of the delivered planks to construct the roof for the motor pool. In other words, we need more material for the planned Barracks, and said material has to come from him."
"From General Bur…" Wilhelm was at a loss for words.
"Yes, from the fat Sacher cake. He sent the poor bastards, he avoided our Schultz here, which led to the whole disaster we're facing now, and so he has to take remedy action."
"Good luck." Wilhelm deadpanned.
"Concerning the motor pool," Langenscheidt mused. "Where shall we leave the barrels and cabinets?"
"Beside the main gate," Carter suggested eagerly. "They're easily reachable and wouldn't disturb anyone."
The Oberst pursed his lips. "That's acceptable."
Hogan glanced at Milford and Miller. "Can you draft a construction plan for the motor pool's roof? Can it be built at all?"
"Yes, no problem. We maybe have to strengthen the walls here and there, but with some support struts it will work," Miller nodded.
"Okay, gentlemen, then you have your jobs. One construct the roof, the other one tries to change the existing construction plan of our current Barracks into larger huts." He smiled at them. "Dismissed."
"Aye, sir," Miller, who was the older one of the two, nodded, saluted, and left the quarters with Milford; still flabbergasted how well the two colonels worked with each other. And thunderstruck about the crazy, yet manageable, ideas his superior had come up with once again.
Hauser lifted a hand like being in school, which woke Will's attention. "Yes, young man?" he asked kindly. He hadn't forgotten how big the boy's part was in keeping him alive after the assault until the surgeons had arrived.
"Herr Kommandant, the men are certainly exhausted and underfed. Both can be cured with enough rest, a warm place to stay, and food, but what about their wounds?"
"Wounds?" Both colonels blinked confused at him, while Schultz nodded with a sad sigh.
"When I understood you correct, sirs, then these men have walked for almost seven weeks through ice and snow. Blisters are unpleasant in the beginning, but if they're not treated they can become inflamed and cause open flesh wounds. I'm sure none of the guards took consideration of it. Toes and fingers can be frozen and die off, too. They could get colds or bronchitis, or worse: pneumonia. The latter can attack the heart. Most of these men are certainly in terrible need for medical treatment."
"Hauser's right," Wilson spoke up. "We need medical supplies. Bandages, bowls for foot soaks with curd soap, disinfection agents, painkillers, so on. And we shouldn't forget that some of the men could sport illnesses we haven't faced until now within Stalag 13, because Colonel Klink always took care that we had the chance to stay clean and have decent food. These men could be infected with scab or spotted fever."
Klink groaned and lowered his head, while Hogan cursed. Both hadn't thought of that part, yet it was no less important than getting weatherproof lodgings for the newcomers.
A door knock came, and Kleiber appeared a moment later. Saluting, he addressed Klink. "Herr Kommandant, Hauptmann Zumrode is asking where he can unload the material. He's grateful for the break, but he's in a hurry and…"
"South. Behind the last Barracks," both officers said in unison; glancing half amused, half surprised at each other.
Schultz and Kinchloe rolled their eyes, while Hauser all but chuckled.
"On the south end of the camp then, Herr Kommandant," the corporal sighed and left; asking himself whom of the two colonels he just had really addressed.
Will pointed at the commode behind him. "Sergeant Carter, in the left drawer are paper and pencils. Take them and write down our shopping list. General Burkhalter will get a heart attack, but I couldn't care any less."
"But first you should lie down again, sir," Wilson said sternly.
"What?" Klink frowned.
"You shouldn't be up at all," the medic added.
"He's right, Will. You really should be in bed," Hogan nodded and rose.
"I have more important things to do than rest in bed," Wilhelm protested.
"At least lay down on the sofa then. Take the pressure off from your abdomen, sir," Hauser suggested.
"Later," Will waved it away. "First I have to…"
"Lie down!" This came from seven mouths, and Klink could only gape at them. There they stood, POWs and German personnel, all of them showing the same worry. It was crazy at best.
"Do you know that this is a POW camp and not a democratic led holiday camp where the majority decides on what to do, gentlemen?"
Hogan gave him a kind smile, while he pushed one of the cushions at the edge of the arm rest to make it more comfortable for Will. "Yes, Herr Kommandant, but you're still not released to duty, and Schultz here is in charge of the camp. Our medic has overtaken the responsibility of your surgeon, and therefore can give you orders concerning your health. So, two choices – hospital or lying down."
Klink blinked at him like an owl. "That's blackmailing," he complained.
"No, I call it 'aggravated arguments'," Robert said, with exaggerated politeness and pointed at the cushion. "Lie down, please."
"Racketeer!" Will pouted, but lay down. He couldn't suppress the groan that escaped him in relief. Only now he felt how much it had cost him to sit there.
"Good boy," Hogan smiled, and earned a finger that was pointed nonchalantly straight into his face.
"You say that stupid saying once more, and we'll have a serious talk."
"I remember very well a time when I thought I was strong enough to be up, and you insisted of me to lie down, giving me those exact words after I obeyed." Robert grinned down on him, eyes warm. "Didn't you know? Revenge can be sweet."
"Just wait until we're alone again. Then you can experience how 'sweet' revenge can be." Klink grumbled.
"I'll take your word for it – in three or four weeks. When you're feeling better."
The Heroes and Wilson began to chuckle, while Schultz grimaced. Hauser and Langenscheidt looked bemused at each other. Both realized that they were missing the point, but they had no clue what it could be.
TBC…
Yes, they came up with some solutions, but the stones on the path are big – and partly a too great hinderance. Yet neither Hogan and his men, nor Klink and the others will give up easily. If they want to help the approaching newcomers, they have to find a way to make everything work.
In the next chapter you're introduced to the main characters of the newcomers; Burkhalter will get second thoughts and remembers his human side, and Hogan & Co. try to make the impossible possible – and for this they need help from outside. It very comes in handy that the Gestapo- and SS-Kommandant of Hammelburg is something like a friend and technically has become an alley since the moment he decided to cover for Hogan and to even help him. In other words: the Heroes need to have Schmidt entering the scene again…
I hope, you liked the new chapter. Besides the few darker scenes, there were also funny ones – and I really imagine Zumrode's face as Hogan not only appeared and talked with Schultz in his typical way, but also became the big mother-hen concerning Klink…
I wish you all now a happy weekend. Ours will be certainly uncomfortable, because at the TV and the radio they warn of a very heavy storm approaching that will hit us during tomorrow and shall last for two or three days. Partly gale-force winds are predicted which are going to reach a tempo of 120 – 170 km/h, and they already canceled train-activities, the aircraft schedules and at Monday in many countries the schools remains closed. Cross your fingers that it will not be too nasty.
Have a nice time,
Love
Yours Starflight
