Hi, my dear readers,

I think, you get used to my current time range of updating, but after my holidays there was so much to do in the shop and additional to that we had a wave of blasting heat here in Germany, I was too tired in the evening to do very much more than preparing some dinner and rest afterwards.

But now, finally, the next chapter.

I know, you're curious what is going to happen next. Once again I mixed fiction with true history; the latter refers especially to everything that is going to happen in and around Hammelburg, but also to the dates and what happened at them in Germany. I also found some reports in the web concerning the last days of war around the true Hammelburg and integrated this history into the story. The same goes for the approaching of the 'US-cavalry', even if the officer in charge is one of my own characters and not the real one. Therefore a disclaimer, okay?

And now have fun

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 98 – Difficult decisions

"Chocolate!" Max Schultz cried as he stared with wide eyes at the bars John offered him and Frank.

The young GI had healed well within the past week and decided to get something for the two teens for Easter. He grinned as he saw the true happiness in their eyes. "It's Easter, after all. Sorry they're not eggs." He winked at the boys, who beamed at him. Eagerly, Max took one and gave the second one to Frank, who still had to stay in bed.

"Thank you! I haven't had chocolate in ages!"

"Since Christmas, to be precise," Frank sighed, ripping the paper away from the sweet treat and biting into it with pure delight on his pale face.

"Yeah – and I don't want to know how Dad got it," the youngest Schultz son said, and took a bite from his own bar, face brightening in pure bliss.

John felt an odd mixture of amusement and sadness. Such a little gift – something everyone took for granted 'til the last few months. Sitting down on the edge of the bed Frank lay in, he took out his own chocolate bar from his jacket pocket. "There's a small Easter celebration in the makeshift cantina with dinner. Want to join me?"

Max's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Of course. You two are declared as non-threatening and neutrals – allies, even. There's no reason for you not to eat at the cantina with Jim and I. I'll come over and carry Frank so that he can spare his hip." He cocked his head. "But we have to do something about your so-called uniforms. I'll try to arrange something more…decent."

"That would be nice. These trousers and shirt smell like pigs," Max grumbled, while he munched at his chocolate.

John began to laugh. "We don't have kid's clothes with us, and the civilians who returned to Coblenz only had what they were wearing. I'll try to find the smallest uniforms possible, and maybe you can change into them."

Shrugging, Max took the last piece of the bar. "I've never sewed before, but it can't be that complicated. I'll shorten the trouser legs and sleeves, and the rest will be held together with a belt. No problem at all."

Frank looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "You do know that there's training and schooling needed to sew properly, right?"

"I don't want to become a tailor. I'll cut them, roll the seam two times, and sew it. End of story." He looked at a smirking John. "What?"

"I'm curious to see the results," the GI chuckled, ruffling Max's hair.

"Me too," Frank sighed. "I'm already picturing us as frumps."

*** HH *** HH ***

While Max struggled to alter two sandy uniforms John got for him and Frank, the leading men within Stalag 13 tried to adjust to the new situation.

Schmidt promised to stay silent about Burkhalter's true fate, and he also offered to inform Klink as soon as new orders from Berlin were given concerning the 'evacuation' of the camp. It was obvious that Horst was upset about the reason why the general went 'rogue'. If the US troops did not reach Hammelburg before the order was set into motion, many of the POWs would die – and death certainly lay ahead for Hogan, Connor, and the other officers.

"Should it come to the worst, I'll simply let the order vanish. It never reached us. This would buy us a day or more," he said quietly, before he bid the men goodbye. He was expected at Hilda's home in a quarter hour, and he didn't want his beloved and her parents to wait.

Burkhalter was still shocked that Schmidt belonged to the Underground. The young man may have said that he had no active part in anything, but the truth was that he kept silent about his gained knowledge and even warned Klink and Hogan if something was about to happen. So, in a certain way, the Oberleutnant was a part of their team. What didn't surprise Burkhalter was to learn that Schmidt hadn't demanded anything from Hogan as payment for his silence; only to keep Hilda, her parents, and the baby safe. Burkhalter had learned to read people and that Horst was a decent man and no blackmailer could be counted on two fingers.

Because no one, except for Klink and Schultz, knew that the general never left the camp, Albert was forced to stay in the Kommandantur until nightfall. Only then could he creep back over the compound and to the nearest tunnel entrance. Unwilling to stay alone the whole day with nothing to do, Wilhelm was forced to give him his company.

They listened to the news via radio and learned that the German Navy had begun to evacuate soldiers and refugees by using the peninsula Hela in the Gulf of Danzig. Parallel, the German Army, with more than 340,000 men, were encircled by US troops in the Ruhr Area.

While Max and Frank accompanied their new American friends to the set up cantina and enjoyed a surprisingly tasty dinner, the German soldiers saw no other option than to surrender to the Allies. And with that, new chaos began to rise.

There was no doubt that the West Allies had a big problem on their hands. Days later, the whole left side of the Rhine River between Colonia and Coblenz was slowly filled with dozens and dozens of hastily raised POW camps. Fences and guards were all that the camps were made of. No Barracks, no toilettes, not enough food. The men slept beneath the open skies in holes they dug with their bare hands or empty cans into the ground, while the skies poured icy rain down on them. The German civilians within the villages in said area weren't allowed to come near the camp, yet enough young women and children threw food over the fences to help the captives, while mainly the dark-skinned US GIs closed their eyes and ignored them. They knew all too well how it was to be regarded as a lower human or to be kept away from the big game. And also the other guards showed some compassion here and there, too, and shared their own rations with the prisoners.

In the course of a few days, not only soldiers, but also medical personnel that had accompanied the Wehrmacht and SS, were taken captive. Nurses were set free within a day or two, boys under age were gathered in large groups, checked through, and would be sent home as soon as the war was over. Those who had surrendered earlier were lucky enough to have a place in a real POW camp. The others faced weeks of hunger, illness, and inhumane conditions.

Above all, Great Britain didn't stick to the made deal to take over half of the POWs. The contract between London and Washington had been made in 1943 and still existed as the West Allies crossed the Rhine River. Hundreds of thousands of German fighters were taken captive, but England simply refused to keep their part of the deal. They couldn't take care of so many prisoners while their own people lived on the streets. It almost came to a scandal between Churchill and Roosevelt, and in the end, the American troops took care of the POWs. Many GIs were needed to keep the POWs in check – too many, which ended in leaving the whole management within the camp to German officers. But what could be managed when there was simply nothing to work with?

Many US officers tried their best to organize some food, water, and tents, but the distance from the US to Europe was long, and most transports were meant for their own troops. The States were slowly bleeding out with field equipment. France and Great Britain denied supplies, and asking Stalin for help would be useless. So, the US was left on its own to handle the problem. The many weeks in which more than 17,000 German soldiers died because of hunger and sickness would later be called the 'Riverbanks of tears'.

But on this Easter Sunday, April 1, 1945, while Klink and Burkhalter sat in the Kommandantur and listened to the radio, the beginning of said tragedy had still to come.

In the evening, Burkhalter was smuggled into Barracks 2. He remembered all the times he had been here to confront Hogan. Now he depended on the younger man – and again his eyes popped out his head as the colonel clapped the frame of an upper stock bed twice. The mattress of the under bed rose up, while the slatted frame fell down into the cellars as a kind of ladder.

"What the hell…" Albert whispered astonished, caught the grinning faces of LeBeau, Newkirk, and Carter, and gulped.

"Please, General; your villa for the next few days," Hogan said, with an inviting gesture. Shaking his head, the fat Austrian carefully stepped on the highest rung.

"Will this hold? I'm not so slim like I used to be," Burkhalter said uneasily.

Snickers and laughter were the answer before Hogan smiled. "General, this is made of good German oak. Do you distrust your own traditional wood?"

Albert shot him a glare – there were moments he really wanted to choke the damn Ami. He began to climb down, Hogan following him from behind.

"Goodnight, guys; I'll show the general his parlor and go to Will's afterwards."

"Goodnight, sir." It sounded like a chorus, and as he looked up, he caught the wicked grins of his friends. Rolling his eyes – how should Will and he do something more private with all the guests in the house? – he climbed down, and the 'ladder' vanished again.

Kinch was on the radio and nodded kindly at them. At the other side of the radio table sat Friedhelm Buchholz, with whom Kinch had talked before the two officers came down. The former driver instantly rose and saluted. "Herr General."

"Friedhelm," Albert answered, with a short salute. "My deepest gratitude for your engagement this morning. Corporal Newkirk gave a short report to Oberst Klink and told him about your good acting skills and courage during the mission. Thank you, young friend."

Buchholz blushed and lowered his gaze. "My pleasure, Herr General."

Hogan and Kinch exchanged a short glance. "Just have a look; there does exist some humanity within the Wehrmacht. You just never stop learning," Kinch teased, and Robert began to laugh.

"Just think of Wilhelm or young Schmidt. Exceptions confirm the regular ways," he joked, before he turned towards Burkhalter. "General, I'm sorry that you can't go to Colonel Klink's quarters and stay there – not even during dinner or breakfast. But the chance that you're seen on accident is too high. LeBeau will bring you two dinner in an hour." He turned towards Kinch. "Everything prepared?"

"We put two field beds, a table with a basin, towels, and a lamp into the cove beside the tailoring." He looked at Burkhalter. "Your uniform is there, too. Sorry, but your coat didn't survive the little prank."

"I know," Albert nodded. "If you don't mind, Hogan, I'll keep this coat here." He pointed at the brown woolen one he was wearing."

"Of course, General; no problem," the colonel said. "Come on; I'll show you your 'room'."

Burkhalter sighed. From a two level-villa with a park as a garden, a swimming pool, and a lot more luxury to a room beneath earth in makeshift tunnels. What a downfall.

*** HH *** HH ***

The next day was peaceful within camp, even if Burkhalter complained about the damp coldness down in the tunnels. But it was better than getting captured and shot. While Vienna was announced as a pure defending area, and the SS took over charge of Austria's capital, Hogan waited for news from Butler. He hoped and feared the soon incoming information all at once, while he also expected Schmidt to call every moment with the intel that the evacuation of camp would begin soon.

Considering all those facts, no wonder that the leading officers of Stalag 13 – on both sides – were tensed up to an extent that brought them to their limits. The other POWs felt that something was up, and the guards knew that trouble was approaching with Schultz being in bad mood, the Kommandant hastening from his office to his quarters back and back again, and a Senior POW Officer, who wore the image of eating something very foul.

It was in the later afternoon when the radio sprang alive, and the Heroes were hailed.

Kinch, who had talked with Burkhalter, almost raced to the equipment and answered the radio. It was only one sentence, but it made the radioman dizzy with relief. "Bird Rock is coming."

"Bird Rock?" Burkhalter repeated, and frowned as the truth dawned on him. "General Butler is Bird Rock?" he gasped, and as Kinch nodded with a grin, he palmed his forehead. "And we thought he was a kind of super-spy or something."

James chuckled. "Well, you thought wrong. He's an official staff officer – no less, no more." He walked towards the ladder. "Excuse me; I have to inform the colonel about the good news."

"And when will your comrades be here?" Friedhelm dared to ask.

Kinch shrugged. "No clue, but Butler already said yesterday that he would need a few days. He'll make it in time; mark my words." Still smiling, he climbed up the ladder and left the two Germans.

Burkhalter took a deep breath – hell, he really didn't like this earthy smell – and sat down on one of the chairs in the radio room. He was still baffled at all the equipment around him. It was incredible with what Hogan and his men had created here in the tunnels. They seemed to be prepared for everything. Hopefully his American counterpart wouldn't come too late.

*** HH ***

"He's coming?" Hogan put down the pot of hot coffee and placed the cup on the long table in the middle of Barracks 2.

Kinch stood at the other side of the table, flanked by the other Heroes, and grinned broadly. "Yes. It was nothing more than one sentence, but…"

"…but it confirms that Alex is on his way to haul our asses out of hot water." Robert rubbed his neck with a deep sigh of relief. "Thank the Lord. I knew he wouldn't let us down."

Carter chuckled in delight. "It means that we'll be free within a few days. I can't imagine what to do afterwards."

"First, we have to stay here until this bloomin' war has ended," Newkirk spoke, matter of factly. "They can't fly us out – there's too many of us."

"I don't think the war will last much longer," LeBeau mused. "At least I hope so."

"Me too, Louis," Hogan nodded. "Me too."

Yet to be freed meant something else for him. When he returned to the States, he and Will would be separated. At least for a few weeks. And even if he, Robert Hogan, intended with all his heart to return to his love as soon as possible, the separation would hurt them both.

*** HH *** HH ***

On April 3rd, one day later, Klink and Hogan got another taste of the regime's raging insanity. While the Kieler Harbor was attacked by more than 700 bombers, and not only German Navy ships, but two passenger ships sank into the depths of the sea, Himmler giving a radio speech afterwards. He declared that every male inhabitant of a house that showed a white flag when the Allies approached would be shot instantly by the SS – independent of the age. Schultz, who was with the two colonels in the Kommandant's office, began to spat curses in the colorful way only Bavarians could do, and Hogan didn't even want to know what the usually so peaceful sergeant wished the Reichsführer on.

As Burkhalter learned of it an hour later, he first paled, then turned a fierce red. "Is there anything holy left for him? Wasn't it enough to kill millions of helpless people? Does he now have to murder our own people only because they don't want to fight men who show far more mercy than our own executive forces? To hell with this man. To hell, and throw the key away so that he will never come out again. Dammit, the devil himself will think twice to take him in, because he cannot tolerate concurrence within his own domain!"

Hogan and Kinch exchanged a glance. 'The first step into the right direction, General,' Robert thought. 'There's something left in you that is worth being saved.'

Yet the danger the camp and its inhabitants were in was far from being over.

*** HH ***

It was in the very early morning of Wednesday, April 4th, as the four men in Klink's quarters were torn out of sleep by a breathless Baker, who had the watch in the tunnels during the night. Without taking consideration of any noises, he pushed the furnace aside, climbed out of the tunnels, and raced towards Klink's bedroom, cursing as he stumbled over a chair at the dining table.

Baker burst into the chamber and saw both officers already awake. Hogan switched on the lamp light, his eyes wide. Baker didn't even care that both men were in the same bed.

"Colonel, I got a message from Butler. He and a part of the 7th US Army, the 14th Armored Division, are behind the German lines and heading towards Hammelburg. They're only 40 km away from here now. Okay, they have to battle through a few towns from there on, but they closed a distance of approx. 100 km without facing any real resistance."

Will and Robert stared at him like owls, then Hogan made a shout of joy that woke up Connor and Elison. "That means they'll be here within one or two days," the colonel beamed, and Baker nodded.

"Yes, and at the moment, they're about to enter Gemünden at the Main River. The Wehrmacht and SS is there and give them trouble, but I don't think it will last long. Some of our air fighters clear the way for our boys just right now."

Klink frowned. "Do I understand you correctly, Sergeant? American bombers are attacking the town, then the troops are to do the rest?" As Richard nodded, the Kommandant sighed. This was all necessary, but it didn't mean that he liked it. There would be more civilian victims. A thought he loathed.

"General Butler is coming?" Connor asked, while stopping beside Baker.

"Yes – and he doesn't come alone," Hogan smiled. "The 'Bird Rock' is bringing along a lot of more birds, so to say."

Klink grimaced. "Hopefully they don't do too much damage. Gemünden is a historical, small city with a beautiful ancient town center from the Middle Ages. I really don't want to see it in ruins."

"That depends on the resistance the Wehrmacht is going to put up." Elison grumbled.

"The Wehrmacht is retreating everywhere," Baker said slowly. "London sent information that opponent positions are abandoned and that parts of the Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS are decomposing. They're surrendering or fleeing. At the moment, there are even some of them on their way from Gemünden to Hammelburg." He bit his lips. "There's more, Colonel. General Butler sent word that…that an air raid against Hammelburg is planned."

"WHAT?" Hogan grew stiff. "Why, for God's sake?! The town is full of refugees and…"

"…And soon with hundreds of fleeing German soldiers, when they realize that any resistance in Gemünden is for naught. London fears that they'll group together and fight against General Butler and the others. Hammelburg isn't easy to conquer seeing the river and the large old town walls."

Robert was out of bed within a blink of an eye. "Why should they fight for Hammelburg when they already abandoned Gemünden and other towns? This makes no sense." He gripped for his uniform. "And Hammelburg…"

"Its meant as a kind of warning and foretaste of what is to come shouldn't Hammelburg surrender," Baker interrupted him. "London's explanation; not mine," he added.

"How about giving an ultimatum before they shoot? The town is overfilled with fled women and children from the east; most of them traumatized of what they had been through by Russian hands. And now we're trying to kill them, too?" He slipped into his shoes. "I won't allow this!"

Klink had left bed, too, and was putting on his own uniform. The alarm clock showed that is was a few minutes after five o'clock. There was no way in hell that he and Robert could resume some sleep before the daily routine began.

Connor watched the higher ranking officer with pursed lips. "I don't think there's much you can do," he said softly. "It's the usual procedure. Our fighters attack from above and afterwards our troops come."

"I know," Hogan snapped. "But most members of our espionage ring are living in Hammelburg. There are dozens of civilians I know in person; Schmidt and the more liberal members of his team are there. Doctors Birkhorn and Glockner with their families live in the town! I won't see it destroyed!"

He hastened to the ladder and climbed down, Baker following him from behind.

"Robert!" Klink threw a flashlight to him.

With a "thanks," he caught it and raced down the tunnel towards the radio room, bypassing a sleepy Burkhalter in an oversized nightgown and an equally groggy Buchholz.

"Hogan, what's the matter?" Albert called after him, but the colonel didn't stop as he replied,

"No time, General. We'll talk later." He reached the radio room and gestured to Baker to man the equipment. "Get me General Butler. I'd rather talk with him than with those trigger-happy Englishmen."

He heard soft foot steps behind him, and looking over his shoulder, he saw Burkhalter standing there with light shoes on his feet and the civilian coat around his shoulders. Buchholz, wearing his uniform coat over his sleeping clothes, stood behind him, while Klink rounded them. He had refrained from taking his tie, and his uniform jacket was open.

"Colonel, I have the General on the line for you," Baker said, and Hogan instantly took the headset and microphone.

"Alex?" He asked into the tiny record module.

"Rob, we're about to start our next step to conquer Gemünden. We'll reach you the day after tomorrow at the latest," sounded Butler's voice through the headset. "Are you still there?"

"I haven't heard anything else, Alex. Thank you for your effort. My men and I owe you big." He took a deep breath before he came to the reason for his call. "One question: Why the planned air raid against Hammelburg?" He heard Burkhalter behind him gasp, but ignored him while he continued. "The town is full of refugees from the east. Thousands of women and children who found shelter in closed hotels and schools. Hell, even the post office is no longer a post office, but crowded with them. If you attack, hundreds of the ladies and kids are going to die!"

For a moment there was silence. "From whom did you get that information?"

"From the leading doctor of the hospital, who treated Colonel Klink and me a few times and belongs to the Underground, Dr. Birkhorn." Another suppressed sound came from Burkhalter, but again Hogan had no time for him. "I got the same statements from several other members of my external team." He moistened his lips. "Alex, stop this attack – you'll get a new Dresden, only with less people, but the outcome will be the same."

He heard a soft curse before Butler answered, "Soon hundreds of fleeing Wehrmacht, SS, and Volkssturm members will head towards Hammelburg. I'm sure of it. The first already are on their way to there. We know that the city has an ancient town wall and is easy to defend in the south and southwest because of the river. When they destroy the bridges, we'll have a problem. Therefore we have to prevent the damn Nazis from getting comfortable there…"

"Leave that to me," Hogan said strongly. "I'm absolutely sure that the habitants of Hammelburg want to see them go as well. I contact another of my allies, who is in the Gestapo. He maybe can be sent the fled soldiers away."

For a longer moment, there was silence again before Butler added, "Robert, your willingness to help those people is more than honorable, but when we want to free you and your men, and to conquer Hammelburg and its important train station, we have to…"

"…Have to kill hundreds of women and children?" Hogan cut in, voice sharp. He felt Klink stepping beside him, but kept his attention on the radio.

"God dammit, Robert, we can't treat any German person that wears no uniform with velvet gloves. We're at war, and we're trying to get you and your men out before you're deported to God knows where. If the town is willing to surrender, we'll accept that. But as long as hundreds of those damn Krauts are there, we have to act. We have to make them see that they're not safe there, so…"

"So a strong air raid won't be necessary. A shot across the bow, so to say, would be enough," Hogan interrupted him again.

A sigh was to hear. "Yes, under the given circumstances this will be enough."

Hogan nodded satisfied. "Okay, even if I still don't like this idea. There will be victims, no matter what, and I loathe the whole thing, but if you only set some warning shots, I'm okay with it. And if you really want to go through with this plan, then order London to wait until I get my allies out of danger. I won't reward their loyalty and friendship by standing by and watching them get killed!"

He could imagine Alexander groaning quietly and rolling his eyes before he grumbled, "How long will you need?"

"This afternoon. Give me time 'til this afternoon. I have to warn my German comrades and friends." Robert's voice sounded stern, his face was grim.

"Three o'clock – not one minute later," Butler agreed. "See you at Stalag 13." The connection was cut off, and Hogan threw the headset on the table, spitting a curse that even made Burkhalter blush.

Klink stood beside his lover and watched him carefully. Robert was seething with anger, his eyes shimmered with an inner fire. "What are you going to do?" he asked quietly.

Rob rubbed his face with one hand. "The question is what can I do?" He took another deep breath. "If I warn the town, I'll reveal myself as the spy I always was, and I'll also become more or less a traitor to my own country. If I do nothing, innocent people are going to die – a lot of them, even if Alex really manages it to lessen the attack." He stemmed both hands on the radio table and stared into nothingness for a long minute, before he whispered, "The whole time I kept my men and I safe – you, my other allies, and most of the people within Hammelburg. The whole time I somehow succeeded in holding the count of victims low, didn't damage more than necessary, and helped those people who were in need for help hence the heritage. And now a few days before everything is over, I'm forced to make a choice I never wanted to do."

He felt Wilhelm lay a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you," he said softly. He met Robert's dark eyes. "Because I know that you will make the right choice."

Hogan laughed without any humor. "There is no right choice, Will; that's the problem." He pinched his nose and closed his eyes. "Whatever I'll do, it will be betrayal – for one side or the other."

Burkhalter couldn't suppress the hue of sympathy that grazed him. "Welcome to the club, Hogan," he murmured not unkindly.

The American colonel turned around, leaned his hip against the table, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and looked at the Austrian, in whose eyes he recognized understanding. After all, Burkhalter almost went through the same.

Hogan cursed whole-heartily. "Shit."

*** HH *** HH ***

As the telephone rang early in the morning, Herr Schneider simply knew that something bad had happened or was about to happen. Nonetheless, he lifted the receiver and was more than surprised to recognize his daughter's superior.

"Oberst Klink?" he asked baffled, and looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was six o'clock in the morning.

"I apologize for the disturbance this early in the morning, but I have to speak with your daughter. It's urgent."

"What's going on?" he asked carefully.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, followed by the answer, "Please link me to your daughter. You will learn everything from her afterwards."

Hilda was already coming down the stairs, clad in a nightgown and bare feet. "Papa? Has something happened?" She asked uneasily.

"Oberst Klink is on the line for you," he said, and offered her the receiver.

Alert showed on her pretty face as she hurried to her father and took the receiver. "Herr Kommandant?" she asked softly.

"Hilda, pack everything you need for yourself and Little Manfred for the next few days and your parents should do the same. Maybe they shall take with them everything moveable that is valuable. Come over to Stalag 13. You and your family will be safe here."

Now the young woman was more than alarmed. "May I ask what's going on, Herr Kommandant?"

"The US cavalry is coming – this afternoon from above and tomorrow at the latest on the ground," came the dry explanation.

Hilda gasped. "They…they're coming?" Her wide eyes found her father's and then those of her mother, who stood tensed on the staircase. In the background, Little Manfred began to complain that no one was there as he woke up.

"Yes, the war is going to end for all of us here soon. Get your family to the camp. They're out of danger here."

"What about the people in Hammelburg? My friends are there and…and Horst."

"Rob will take care of it," Klink interrupted her. "Don't call your friends or young Schmid;, we can't risk a mass panic or that someone eavesdropped when you talk with your darling. It would mean more harm. Just come over in the late midday. Pretend to be on your way to town. Officially, you have the day off. The reason why you're with your parents, but I asked you to give me a helping hand with something. Like this, we avoid unpleasant questions."

"O-o-okay. And thank you, Herr Oberst," she answered. Then she hung up and had to sort through her thoughts for a moment. The Americans were coming. The real fighting line was still somewhere at the Rhine River, yet the Allies made a sudden advance to Hammelburg? Why? Had it something to do with the odd tension she had felt within the last two days in camp? As she got to work on Monday, Klink had been oddly silent – as had Robert. Even Schultz was nervous. And this had continued into yesterday. Was this all connected to the approaching attack?

"Hilda?" Her father asked, with a quiver in his voice as he watched his pale daughter.

"The Americans are coming. There will be an air raid this afternoon – and tomorrow they arrive here at the latest on foot. Herr Kommandant wants us to come to Stalag 13. We're safe there."

"What?" her mother shrieked. "We're safe in a camp that is going to be fought over? Are you mad?"

Gathering her bearings, Hilda looked up with fire in her eyes. "There are a few things you don't know yet, Mutti, and I won't tell you about them until we're in the camp. But trust me, we're really safe there."

"Colonel Hogan, right? He promised to protect you and us," her father guessed, and Hilda nodded.

"Yes – among other things."

"And how does Oberst Klink know about the upcoming air raid?" Her mother proved one time more how clever she was. "That the Americans are approaching is something even a blind man would be able to recognize when they're coming near, but the air raid against Hammelburg won't start within the next few hours – even if the bombers are coming from England. How does he already know that…" She stopped, and her jaw dropped. "He…he works for them…" she whispered.

Herr Schneider frowned. "Don't be stupid, deary. The Oberst is loyal."

"Loyal to the German people, yes," Hilda nodded, and began to walk to the staircase to pack her belongings and those of Manfred.

"'To the German people'," her mother repeated, putting one and one together. "But not to Hitler, right? This…this is treason."

"Every sane man with his mind still intact wouldn't be loyal to such a monster," Hilda said strongly. "You heard what Himmler said yesterday on the radio. He gave orders to kill every male habitant of any household that tries to surrender, no matter the age. It means that the old grandpa will be shot with his two day old grandson, if it comes to the worst. Is this a government you can be loyal to? Is this a way of a caring leadership – killing their own people if they don't obey and choose suicide like so many good staff officers were already forced to do? Wake up, Mutti. Hitler may have had a few good ideas to make our economy grow a decade ago, but I think he only did it to prepare this country for the war he wanted to have at all costs. Costs we have to pay the bill for now, and not only because of the fact that our country lies in ruins. The Gestapo and SS have become an enemy to their own people, not much different from the Allies – the only difference being that the Allies show more mercy."

"You speak like you were a member of the Underground," her mother gasped, shocked.

Hilda straightened her shape. "I am," she said proudly.

"Don't!" Frau Schneider whispered hectically. "If someone hears you, then…"

"When the Americans are here, I can speak about it as often as I want. I don't have to hide anymore and pretend to be a loyal Nazi who says 'amen' to everything this madman in Berlin orders."

"Hilda!" She wrung her hands. "Don't you realize how dangerous this is for you?"

"At least I did something instead of hiding and praying that it will end one day," the young woman snorted. "Now get your things ready, please. Just like I'll do for Manfred and me. We're leaving for the camp." She glanced at her father. "Papa, would you please make the tractor ready? We have to pretend we're on our way to town, and I only had to stop to help the Kommandant with something. Then he'll order us to stay. Like this, no one will get suspicious until tomorrow."

Herr Schneider frowned. "What about Herr Schmidt?"

Hilda took a deep breath. "The Kommandant and Colonel Hogan will take care of it. Kommandant Klink promised so."

"Colonel Hogan?" her parents asked, in unison. "But…he's only a POW," Herr Schneider said, surprised.

His daughter gave him a short smile. "Yes – and more." Then she raced up the stairs. "Hurry! We don't have all day."

*** HH *** HH ***

At another house, the phone rang loud through the silence. A dog lifted its head and began to bark. Grumbling, the older man hobbled to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Dr. Schnitzer, how can I be at your service?" he asked.

"Oscar? It's me," the well-known voice sounded through the speaker. "Get your dogs and come over to the camp at late midday. Warn your niece and other relatives – and the nice couple that gave Oberst Klink and I shelter – the Obermayers. They'll come to Stalag 13, too."

The veterinarian frowned. "Was ist los?" he asked unusually sharp.

"The cavalry is coming – including birds," came the answer, and Oscar felt himself paling.

"When?" He demanded.

"The birds this afternoon, the wolves tomorrow or the day after. Hurry up – and bring your dogs along. A certain cook would be more than unhappy if something happens to them."

Schnitzer gulped. "What about the others?"

"They'll be warned, too."

The line went dead, and Schnitzer didn't care for good manners, as he began to curse.

*** HH *** HH ***

In a few more households, messages came in – messages of warning and instructions of what to do. Hogan used the second phone in Klink's office, while Wilhelm used his direct line. Newkirk was busy down in the tunnels warning others of the Underground, while Kinch and Baker manned the radio and alerted further allies in the area.

The camp would be filled with civilians soon, but none of the leading officers cared. They all had known that it would come to this one day, and for more than two days they had waited for the news. Now it was time to act.

While in Gemünden, the battle was raging and would delay Butler's advancing until the next day, the last night in Hammelburg had been eerily silent. The streets of the town were completely empty of habitants. No cars, no trucks, no horses and carts, no people. Not even a dog had been in the open. It had been like the infamous calm before the storm. And the storm was coming.

In the early morning the day prior, German troops had passed through towards Gemünden, and now, at midday, the noises of battle were carried by the wind to Hammelburg. There was no doubt that the Allies were fighting their way through and would come soon. Yet there was no panic in Hammelburg; only strong discussions in the townhall on how to proceed from now on.

And then they came. The first retreating German soldiers. Many of them were ordered back and to give up on Gemünden. Others used the chance to flee. Yet this much was certain; those first two or three dozen of injured and exhausted men were only the start.

Schmidt was organizing shelters for the men and was giving Fuhrmann further instructions as his telephone rang. "Yes?"

"Herr Oberleutnant, I have Stalag 13 for you on the line – Oberst Klink. He says it's urgent."

'What now,' the young man thought exasperatedly. "Put him through," he ordered, and waited a moment.

"Oberleutnant Schmidt?" Sounded the well-known voice with the Saxonian dialect through the line.

"Yes, it's me. What can I do for you?"

"Please take Sergeant Fuhrmann with you to Stalag 13 at two o'clock. It's important."

Horst frowned. "Due all respect, Herr Oberst, but I'm organizing shelters for casualties, who retreated from the battle in the west. I have no time at the moment to…"

"Young friend, do yourself, your colleague, and a certain young lady a big favor and come over without asking more questions. It's because of the matter we spoke of Sunday." The line went dead, and Horst felt his stomach clenching. 'The matter from Sunday'…Well, there were two possibilities. One, something happened concerning General Burkhalter, or two, it was about the approaching Allies, who were battling in Gemünden. There was no doubt that this US general Hogan told him about was coming for Papa Bear; fighting his way free through half of Germany to get to his protegee. The days of the NS government within Hammelburg were counting down, and Schmidt was certain that Hogan wanted him and Fuhrmann somewhere safe when the Allies attacked.

It was tempting – it was touching that the colonel indeed treated him as a friend – but Schmidt had his duties here and…

"What did the Oberst want?" Fuhrmann asked curiously, after his superior had turned into a pillar of salt – the receiver still in his hand.

"We have to go to Stalag 13 at two o'clock." He put the receiver back on the phone and glanced at the mantlepiece clock. It was ten minutes past twelve.

"Did he say why?" the sergeant asked, and Schmidt took a deep breath. Fuhrmann didn't know that Hogan was Papa Bear. Even if Schmidt was convinced that his confidant wouldn't give the colonel away and loathed the regime by now as strong as he did, he was careful. This house had hidden ears everywhere, and so he answered,

"I have no clue – but it sounded more than urgent. There's trouble he needs help with." He glanced down at the heap of papers on his desk and sighed. "Let me give the necessary orders, and then we'll drive to Stalag 13. I have a bad gut-feeling."

To tell the truth, he had a VERY bad feeling about all of this.

TBC…

Well, the real trouble for Schmidt begins now and will worsen within the next chapters, because there will be a fight for Hammelburg, but different than you maybe think now. And there will be more. In the next chapter, the showdown comes closer and closer – and Hogan has to do some 'magic' to prevent a disaster from happening. And Fuhrmann gets a little shock, too.

I hope, you liked the new chapter, including Hilda's parents learning what their daughter did, and how the Heroes try to protect their German friends outside of the wires.

Like always, I'm looking forward to get reviews and kudos.

'Til the weekend (hopefully),

Love you all

Yours Starflight