Hi, my dear readers,
I'm so sorry that the next update lasted longer than usual, but first my parents got a stomach-bug and I had to help. And then I caught it too, but because I had so much to do in my shop, I went working a few hours a day, but fell into bed like a stone afterwards. Since yesterday it got better, and today I was up for a whole day for the first time since Tuesday.
Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm amazed that you still love this story so much and stay true to it.
We're nearing the very last part of everything, and I hope you're going to enjoy it.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 99 – Lessening the damages
"Hi, Hilda," Robert Hogan smiled at the young woman, who sat on the trailer of the tractor her father had steered through the gates, her mother and a few suitcases beside her. And in her arms lay a little bundle the colonel was eager to meet for the first time.
"Hi, Robert," she answered softly, ignoring her mother's wary gaze. "No lunch today?"
"We're a little busy, you know," he said, nodding towards the kennel. Schnitzer's car stood beside the gate, and Hilda simply knew that the man was down in the tunnels – certainly together with his family members. For her, it was clear that Robert had warned all his allies and comrades-in-arm of the upcoming air raid. She recognized a few men in the compound wearing English and American uniforms – 'gifts' from Hogan's men to let them blend in with the other POWs.
Hogan saw the bundle in the young woman's arms and cocked his head. "Is this Little Manfred?" He asked.
"Yes. May I introduce you two." Hilda bent down from the trailer and offered Hogan the baby. "Manfred, this is Colonel Hogan; a very good friend. Robbie, this is Little Manfred."
Carefully, Hogan pulled the sleeping infant in his arms and looked down at his tiny face. He wasn't aware of the soft smile that spread over his face or how gentle his expression became. There he was; the little imp who had been saved by Schmidt, stirred up the HQ of the Wehrmacht in the south of Berlin, and was now the center of a German family Hogan had come to like and respect.
"Hello there, little one. So much trouble for such a small guy," he teased, held the baby with one arm, and gently touched the baby's left cheek with one finger. Even in sleep the little boy smiled, feeling safe in the strange man's arm.
Hilda had hopped down from the trailer as Klink came walking from the Kommandantur in his typical bowed stance, riding crop beneath one arm, the other placed on his back.
"Ah, Fräulein Hilda. So nice of you to stop by on your day off. I'm so sorry for my call, but I really need your help with a few documents. Then you and your parents can have…Hogan, what do you got there?" He asked sternly, keeping up the pretense of speaking to a captured POW.
"Look," was all Robert said, eyes shining.
Klink couldn't help but grin as he recognized Little Manfred. "Oh, he already grew," he said, stroking the baby's other cheek. The infant began to wake up and looked up to the unknown faces with big, confused eyes, then he saw the 'light' over one of the man's eyes and some hidden memories stirred. Safety…This man meant safety.
Reaching out with one tiny hand, he was able to catch one of Klink's medals, and Will smiled the biggest, goofy smirk Hogan had seen in a long time. "Just look; he remembers me!" The Oberst seemed to be beside himself with joy and happiness. "Hello, little friend. I think your Mommy did a good job so far." He glanced at his lover. "Hogan, you're holding him wrong. Give him to me."
Rob rolled his eyes, but laughed quietly. "If you want to hold him, just say it," he chuckled, handing the imp to the older man. Frau Schneider stared with big eyes at the two opponent officers. Then she saw a movement to her right and saw two men in English and American uniforms heading towards them with a smile on their faces. From Barracks 2, Newkirk and Carter walked over towards the group, both eager to see the baby for the first time.
"Ain't he a nice little lamb," Peter said, as he looked enchanted down at the tiny face.
"Just like the baby of our neighbors at home," Carter nodded. "She was two months old when I left. Now…well, she'll be a little lady when I come home."
"Joa mei, 'is d'r liab!" (Bavarian: Well, is he lovely). Schultz stopped beside them and glanced down at Manfred. "My little Max was like that at this age."
Herr Schneider had helped his wife down from the trailer and watched how the two German men, the American, and a few other POWs surrounded Hilda and the baby, making cooing noises and beamed at the little boy.
Finally, Hilda gave Manfred to her mother and followed Klink to the Kommandantur, her parents, Schultz, and Colonel Hogan on their heels. She saw Lt. Colonel Connor from afar and waved at him – a gesture the younger man returned with a polite bow of his head and a soft smile.
"Wieviele Freunde hast du hier eigentlich gewonnen? (Just how many friends have you made here?)" Her mother asked quietly.
Hilda gave her a firm glance over her shoulder. "Viele! (A lot!)" She replied.
"Hilda ist unser guter Engel (Hilda is our good angel)," Hogan added in perfect German, earning him a gasp from Hilda's mother and a chuckle from her father. He already knew that the American officer spoke German, yet inwardly he was a bit surprised at how well Hogan used the foreign language. As far as he remembered, the colonel's German had been more halting, yet he assumed that the man had learned a lot during his captivity.
"Please, come in and have a seat. It will not last long until your daughter will be done here," Klink said, a little bit too loud. They closed the door, and Herr Schneider turned around, his face now firm.
"Herr Oberst, my daughter told us about the upcoming air raid – and that a US division is on its way to Hammelburg. Given the noises in the west, I think they're already rather close. Pray to tell us what you have in mind for your men and us?"
Klink and Hogan exchanged a glance, and Wilhelm sighed before he said in German, "We have nothing to fear from the approaching US troops. You, our allies, and we will be quite safe here when the camp is officially liberated."
Herr Schneider frowned. "What do you mean 'officially'?"
The Oberst glanced once again at his Senior POW Officer, who crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well…This camp doesn't have to be liberated, but needs rescue. From our own lines." He glanced at Hilda. "You asked yourself what was going on within the last two days. The mood couldn't have been more tense, I know."
His secretary nodded slowly. "That something was cooking hot was clear like the summer skies. What's really going on, Herr Oberst?"
Will grimaced. "Himmler gave orders to evacuate a few POW camps, Stalag 13 being among them. The captured officers have to be brought to Berlin to 'serve' as living shields against the Allies' attacks, and the other POWs – who are strong enough to walk – will be forced into the middle of Germany. The others still too weak from the inhumane walk from Poland to here will remain in the Barracks and…shall be locked or burned down."
Hilda gasped in horror. "NO!"
The Schneiders' were pale like tablecloths. They knew Hogan and his men for quite some time now, and the mere thought of the US colonel going to die in the bombs of his own comrades, while the others would fall prey to the insanity too made even Frau Schneider shiver. "Oh my God." She whispered.
"Robert contacted his superior last Sunday, who is on the way to 'liberate' this camp – in truth, he's coming to save us all," Klink added.
"On Sunday?" Hilda blinked at her boss blankly. "But…the order hasn't been given until now – not to my knowledge. How…"
"The colonel contacted his superior?" Herr Schneider shook his head and looked at Hogan. "How?"
"Via radio – like often enough within the last three years," Robert deadpanned.
"You…you are a SPY?" Hilda's father stared with wide eyes at the younger American.
Hogan simply shrugged and smirked, "Yep."
Frau Schneider glanced at Klink, then at her daughter. "And you knew it?"
"They're one big gang," Schultz grumbled.
"Not that you don't belong to it, too," Hogan teased him, then a knock at the door interrupted him. The door opened, and Schmidt walked in with Fuhrmann following from behind.
"Horst!" Hilda threw her arms around his neck. Instinctively, he returned the embrace and held her close.
"Hey there," he whispered, and leaned his head against hers before he looked at the little gathering. He had seen the tractor as he and Fuhrmann arrived, and he had seen the luggage on the trailer. Of course he recognized the vehicle as the tractor of the Schneiders, and he realized that something big was going on. His attention was driven to the two colonels, who stood side by side; tensed.
"Gentlemen," he greeted them, before he softly untangled himself from Hilda, went to her mother, greeted her with a gallant hand-kiss, stroked Manfred's cheek and shook Herr Schneider's hand before he nodded at Schultz and turned towards the two officers. "May I ask what this is all about?"
Hogan glanced at his wristwatch. "A few minutes 'til two o'clock. Your timing is excellent." He exchanged a short glance with Wilhelm, then turned his attention to Fuhrmann briefly, then back to Schmidt. "Does he know?" He asked, nodding into the direction of the SS-sergeant.
Horst realized to what the American officer was referring and grimaced. "No."
"But you trust him," Robert stated.
Schmidt looked over his shoulder at the older and confused man. "Yes…with my life."
Nodding, Hogan took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before he said, "Contact the burgomaster of Hammelburg. An air raid is planned for around three o'clock this afternoon."
"WHAT?" The Oberleutnant stared at him in shock.
"Yes, they…"
"How do you know about this?" Fuhrmann wanted to know.
"Hammelburg is full with refugees!" Host gasped, ignoring his sergeant's rightful question. "And now the first wounded soldiers arrived and are camping on the streets!"
Robert pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment before he replied, "As far as I know, they are members of the Wehrmacht and…"
"Most of them are injured. Dr. Birkhorn, his colleagues, and the nurses try their best to treat them." Schmidt's voice grew louder. "To attack casualties is against any written and unwritten law! And what about the refugees from the east? Women, children…They are housing in any building we could clear like the post office, schools, even the damn rooms of the old town towers. Hogan, this will result in a blood bath and…"
"DAMMIT, Schmidt, I KNOW," Robert exploded. "I talked with London. They gave me a short time to prevent the worst, and General Butler agreed to keep the raid as low balled as possible, but…"
"You talked with London and one of your generals?" Fuhrmann's eyes were as wide as saucers before he looked at his superior. "So, Hochstetter had been right? Hogan is a spy?"
"Yes, I'm Papa Bear," Robert revealed, and if the situation wouldn't be so damn serious, he would have grinned as he saw the thunderstruck expression of the older man. But at the moment, no one had a reason to be amused.
"Stop this!" Horst demanded, folding his arms in front of his chest. "There is no strategic need to attack such a small town and…" He stopped. "It's about this camp's liberation, isn't it?"
"Liberation?" Fuhrmann's jaw almost hit the ground. "The Amis approach this all of sudden and quickly because of this camp? And you knew it?" His eyes hung at his superior completely flabbergasted.
Hogan ignored the sergeant. "This is about surrender, Schmidt," he snapped.
"Have your superiors officially demanded surrender until now?" Horst replied furiously. "No. The people in Hammelburg assume that the Allies are approaching – last but not least because of the hellish noises your comrades make while fighting in Gemünden. I learned from the first fled soldiers that parts of the town are already burning. If it were night, we could see the flames in the horizon. The people in Hammelburg are calm, but if there is an air raid, you will elicit a panic. If you ask the city council to surrender, then I'm sure…"
Hogan lifted both hands. "Horst," he referred to the Oberleutnant by his given name for the first time and on full purpose. "I did my best to prevent this planned air raid, but the strategy was made without me. I already risked a lot by quarreling with General Butler about this." He glanced at his wristwatch again. "Don't waste any more valuable time, and CALL THE DAMN BURGOMASTER! NOW! They have an hour now to prepare the citizens so that they can find shelter."
"And the others – the refugees and the casualties? Our bunker is not large enough for all of them. There will be hundreds of victims!" Schmidt argued, and the colonel flushed in helpless anger.
"I know! Don't you think I already tried to stop this, but that's the Allies' strategy: attacks. First from above, then on the ground. And Alex…I mean General Butler agreed to give orders that the air raid will be kept as small as possible."
They looked fiercely at each other before Horst whispered, "Hogan, I understand. I really do. But I'm responsible for the citizens' and refugees' well-fare, and I cannot watch casualties and civilians being attacked. Try to stop this. I protected Connor and his men, risking serious trouble with Berlin. Now it's up to you to do the same the other way around. Shield our men – and all the people in Hammelburg."
Hogan pinched his nose and groaned. Damnit to hell and back, he KNEW that Schmidt was right. He owed him that much. Taking a deep breath, he became aware of the others in the Kommandantur again, saw how they all looked at him, cursed, and went towards the door. "Call the burgomaster and warn him. Use some excuse how you came into possession of this intel. I'll radio London again and try my best." Without another word, he left and headed straight towards Barracks 2.
For a short moment, there was dead silence in Klink's office, then Fuhrmann stepped beside Schmidt and addressed him. "You knew that Hogan is Papa Bear – and you support him."
Sighing, Horst rubbed his temples. "Yes, guilty as charged," he murmured. "Hitler and the others have to be stopped, or Germany will cease to exist. Hogan and his men weakened the regime from the inside, but he tried to keep the victims as low as possible." He looked at the older man. "Despite everything, he is an honorable man – and I trust him now to save Hammelburg."
The sergeant took a deep breath. "I already assumed all this, but…" He shook his head before glancing at Klink. "And you are his ally," he murmured.
Wilhelm nodded. "Yes. I swore to protect my country, and if it means to fight against the regime to afford our people a chance of survival, so be it."
Fuhrmann grimaced, stemmed his hand on his hips, and snorted before he glanced up at his superior. "What are you waiting for?" He asked, and made a gesture towards the telephone. "Call Herr Klammann, and do as Hogan said – or we'll have even more victims."
For more than three seconds, Schmidt looked at him completely baffled. Fuhrmann was okay with this? Well, of course he was. His regards of everything were mostly the same like Horst's. Then the Oberleutnant sighed and went to Klink's desk, lifting the receiver.
He didn't look forward to this talk. He had met Walter Klammann a few times – a pompous man in his middle fifties, who bathed in his little power with arrogance and vanity. He had become the major in 1938 after the former burgomaster had been removed from his position and replaced with the loyal NSDAP-member Klammann. Schmidt learned shortly after his arrival in Hammelburg that the burgomaster was a fierce fellowman of Hitler, and even slapped an eight-year-old boy who had forgotten to lift his right hand properly while greeting him. These kind of men were exactly the guys Horst loathed, and he couldn't help but think anything but nice thoughts of what Hammelburg would be spared of should the ceiling come down on Klammann.
*** HH ***
"A full attack?! That wasn't the plan!" Hogan gasped into the microphone. "General Ashton, I beg you. The town harbors only civilians and fled women, children, and old people from Czechia, Bohemia, and Southern Silesia. There are only two or three dozen Wehrmacht and SS-members, all whom fled from the battle in Gemünden, and they're injured. There is no reason to attack Hammelburg. No facilities are in function anymore, and the only companies are those of wine press houses and agricultural products. An attack would only hit innocent people!"
Kinch watched his superior and friend, who talked for minutes now with the English general in London, trying to prevent a catastrophe from happening. Burkhalter and Buchholz stood beside him and listened tensed, while in the next room Newkirk was phoning more members of the Underground around Hammelburg.
The rest of the tunnels were filled with fled Underground members and their relatives, among them Schnitzer and his family, as well as the Obermayers with their two grandchildren. They all had been smuggled one by one down the tree stump, while Klink had distracted the guards with a mustering.
Hogan, who ignored the dozens of people nearby, listened to the general's answer, and his eyes became small. "Sir, due all respect, but I'm in the field here. I certainly have a better overview of everything, and my information is factual, so you can believe my report. To attack this small town with full force would fulfill the matter of a war crime, and…" He listened again, his face flushed. "Yes, I'm aware that we're at war with Germany. I'm in the middle of it and not at some desk hundreds of kilometers away from this country's outer borders!" He snapped. "And that the English pilots don't care for civilian lives and cultural valuable buildings could clearly be seen as you destroyed Königsberg and Dresden! Both times the outcome was a human catastrophe with more than half of the civilian people dead and cultural buildings and documents lost forever – and this all happened in towns that were no threat for the Allies. Hammelburg is even a lesser threat, so don't tell me about some measurements of defense. If you want to set a shot across the bow, then drop some bombs around the town; not on it. And not in the southwest either, or General Butler doesn't need to continue the rescue mission."
Again he listened, and his eyes became small, fierce slits. "General, I don't think that this is a good time to speak about ranks. Like you just pointed out: We're at war – and the time of grace for all those refugees and civilians in Hammelburg is ticking away minute by minute we're speaking. Call this raid off – or fire off some warning shots. Otherwise you aren't any better than those guys we're fighting!"
Kinchloe flinched. This was strong stuff Hogan was beating the general in the head with. Robert could face a lot of trouble when he was back in London or Washington, but Kinch knew his friend. He never thought about himself first, but always about others – especially his friends and allies, or those who were in need of help.
"General, correct me if I'm wrong, but General Butler required assistance from your pilots for this mission. In other words, he is in charge concerning this special task force, and therefore he gives the orders. Am I right?" He nodded slowly. "I thought so. And I also know that he didn't order a full attack. So expect his call in a few minutes. Papa Bear out!"
He gave James a signal to cut off the line and cursed heartily before he bit his lips. "Get me Butler. I don't care if he has to climb down a tank to get to the radio, drive along a damaged road, or is using the bushes as a restroom; I need him now!"
Kinch knew better than to reply anything. Hogan was dancing on a high wire at the moment, and he was concerned for his friend, but he held his tongue. When Hogan had set his mind on something, there was nothing that could stop him – not even the good-meant words of a friend.
Burkhalter looked rather impressed with him. "You really lack a bit of respect towards higher ranking officers on principle, don't you?"
Hogan had placed his fists on his hips, a deep frown on his face. "They're cooking their potatoes in salt water just like any other guy, too. Of course I respect their rank, but I loathe narrowmindedness and arrogance. And I hate it how easily some men decide over life or death, not caring for other people's anguish. Yes, we're at war, and Germany is our enemy, but this killing of innocent people on purpose is something Hitler does, but not us. Regrettably, there are staff officers among our lines who rather use General Custer's motto during the Indian wars: 'Only a dead Indian is a good Indian'. Transfer this to the current situation and replace 'Indian' with 'German', and you know what I mean."
Burkhalter had clasped his hands on his back and watched the younger man with something close to admiration. "I think I understand what made Klink switch sides and have your back, no matter what – or Schmidt and all the others you were able to gather around you. The Middle Ages have been over for centuries now, yet some knights do still exist. No longer clad in armor and riding a horse, but they're still among us. You're such a knight – trying to be a man of honor even in battle, sparing innocent lives."
Robert glanced surprised at him, and – to his utter horror – felt heat rising into his cheeks. Usually those words uttered by a general of the Third Reich shouldn't matter to him. He shouldn't care what Burkhalter thought about him, but he did. Somewhere along the way they were forced to walk together here and there, and sometimes along their enforced co-working, the fat Austrian had become a person. Hogan had to admit deep down Burkhalter wasn't evil. Arrogant, cowardly, misguided, yes, but he was not a bad person. And he was older than Hogan, had lived through the first war, and now the second one – a man with great life experiences. Yes, somehow it did matter what this man thought about him.
"Colonel, I've got Butler on the line for you," Kinch said.
"Put it on speaker," Hogan said quietly, and took the microphone as the speaker sprang alive. Fighting noises were in the background, and the general all but screamed into the microphone to drown out the din.
"Robert! This is better urgent!"
"It is, Alex. Sorry to disturb your fun, but this is a matter of life and death – not for us, but for more than 12,000 people."
Somewhere close by where Butler was, something exploded, and the general cursed rudely before he answered, "Of which people do you speak?"
"The citizens and refugees of Hammelburg. It's worse than I thought. The town is about to burst at the seams, and there isn't enough room in the single bunker to protect even a third of the women and children who have found shelter within Hammelburg, not to speak of the refugees. I spoke with General Ashton in London, who obviously takes your request for support too seriously. He's planning a full attack."
He turned around as quick steps drew nearer. Klink pushed himself through the bewildered people. He came directly from his quarters, and he wasn't alone. Schmidt was with him and was obviously completely thunderstruck about the tunnel system below the camp. Yet he instantly concentrated on the radio transmission and listened to the strange voice that was shouting to be heard above the battle noises in the background.
"A full attack? This isn't what I ordered. Are you sure?"
"I just spoke with him, and he said that more than a hundred bombers are on their way and fifty air fighters," Hogan answered, and saw how Wilhelm and Schmidt paled. "If they use their whole arsenal, the town will cease to exist and…"
"Dammit! I knew that pompous asshole was eager to brag about his own successful air raid mission. He's so puffed with conceit, I would like to empty a bucket with ice water over him only to get him down a peck or two."
Again some detonations were heard, and for a moment, the tiny speaker failed before its membranes recovered. They heard Butler's voice, but not what he said before.
"Sorry, Alex, what did you say?" Hogan asked.
"What about the Wehrmacht members that are about to gather in the town?"
"There are only 42 and approximately a dozen more are on the road towards Hammelburg – at least that's what I just learned," Schmidt said strongly. "They're all injured and no real threat for your men when you arrive."
"Robert, who is this?" Butler asked, in alarm.
"The leading SS and police officer of Hammelburg, Lieutenant Horst Schmidt. I told you about him already. He's one of my allies – and a friend." Hogan replied.
"Just how many friends exactly have you made there?" Butler sounded exasperated by now, not knowing that Hilda's mother had asked her daughter the same question a short time ago.
Hogan's gaze wandered to the two Germans at his side. "A few – and I would give my life for them. Just like I would do for my men."
Klink looked down to hide how his cheeks flushed, while Schmidt gave the American officer a soft smile. Burkhalter took a deep breath and shook his head. He believed Hogan. The colonel was the sort of man who always would put the welfare of his men and his friends above his own.
Butler grumbled something that wasn't understood before he replied, "Hopefully it will not come to that. I want to see you at the other side of my desk and have some serious talks with you, son – for example that it makes your job a lot more difficult during a war when you get attached with your supposed enemies."
"Well, you're right as long as it concerns enemies. Friends are another story. War brings out the worst, but sometimes also the best in us, and it certainly changes your points of view when you see the suffering of the other side. And getting back to that particular topic, can you contact London to…"
"Don't fear, Robert. I don't want to be responsible for a massacre. I'll speak with Ashton and remind him who's leading this mission. Yet you should tell your friends to stay somewhere safe." He hesitated. "Lieutenant Schmidt?" He addressed Horst.
"Yes, sir," the Oberleutnant answered, while bending over the microphone.
"Maybe you should warn the town. Contact the burgomaster. There are more than 40 minutes left. I'm sure most people will be able to find some shelter when the fireworks start – fireworks I'll try to keep as low as possible. It shall set an example, not more. Call your burgomaster, and try to use some excuse how you came into the possession of this intel."
Schmidt looked at Hogan while he replied, "I will, General. Thank you." There was no need to let the colonel's superior know that Hogan had already warned the town through Schmidt. Horst didn't want the Senior POW Officer to get into any trouble for doing something London and the Pentagon maybe regarded as betrayal. But with the general's unofficial order to alert the burgomaster of Hammelburg, Hogan was safe, and he was, too.
Again the US staff officer murmured something that was drowned out by the noises in the background before he was clearer to understand again. "Anything more, Robert?"
"No, sir," Hogan said. "Except for thank you."
"You're welcome. Oh, and Robert? Make some coffee for us. I'm sure we'll be at your camp tomorrow. Butler out."
The connection was cut off, and Hogan glanced at the two Germans. "Did you reach the Burgomaster?"
"Yes," Schmidt nodded.
"What did you say to Herr Klammann?" Burkhalter rose to speak.
"I talked with him," Wilhelm cut in. "I told him that I received a warning from the Luftwaffe that opponent bombers and air fighters are heading this way and that there is some intel that Hammelburg is the target. It would be logical seeing that the US division is only 20 km away in Gemünden and is moving in this direction for two days now."
"Oberst Klink thought it better to keep me out of this," Schmidt added. "Like this, I won't grow under suspicion that I stayed in the camp during an approaching air raid. I officially learn about it the moment it happens."
Hogan breathed in a sigh of relief. "Well done," he said, before he rubbed his neck. "And now we should start to bring the others down here. If our boys set only a few shots across the bow concerning Hammelburg, it means that they'll drop bombs mainly outside of the village – in other words, we're not completely out of danger." He turned his attention to Klink. "Will, maybe you should invite Hilda and her parents to your quarters. Tell them you've got some wine and want to share it – officially. In truth, we'll bring them down into the tunnels. They'll be safer here."
"Colonel, you do realize that you reveal your secret to a lot of strangers, don't you," Horst pointed out.
Robert nodded. "Yes, and therefore they will be our guests here 'til our cavalry arrives. But I don't think they will mind. After all, here they're safe from any bomb that could drop on their heads." He grimaced before he addressed Burkhalter. "You'll have a lot of company until tomorrow."
The fat Austrian shrugged. "I do not mind. If this is how I will spend my last free days, so be it. At least it will be pleasant company."
Schmidt cocked his head. "Colonel, what about Fuhrmann and I? If we don't return to Hammelburg after the air raid, then…"
"I'm sorry, Schmidt," Hogan said softly, but before the younger man could start to argue that he had to return, Robert added, "I'm referring to the fact that I'm sorry that you won't find shelter here until Butler and the others arrive. I know that it will hurt you to see parts of the town damaged, but you're right. You have to return after the attack to preserve public peace. And to be our ears and eyes there. When our boys come to conquer the town, I'm sure that there will be some resistance. To cut off this resistance before it will lead to something like in Gemünden will be a challenge on its own – one I trust you with."
Horst sighed and nodded. "I'll do my very best."
Robert clapped him on the shoulder. "I know, my friend. I know."
*** HH ***
Of course the Schneiders were more than baffled after they accepted Oberst Klink's invitation to his quarters and climbed through a hole beneath his furnace into some tunnels, while Sergeant Schultz kept watch.
Hilda smiled as she climbed down the ladder. She had been here before and inwardly she took mischievous pleasure as she heard and saw the others' confusion. Klink handed Little Manfred to Schmidt from above after he had helped Hilda and her mother down. The baby looked around with big eyes, obviously not too happy because of the cold darkness, but his foster mother's presence and the calming hands of the man he knew so well by now kept him quiet.
Hilda was thunderstruck to find General Burkhalter present. She hadn't known that he was there in the tunnels, and she was shocked as she learned of the reason why. Then she pointed an accusing finger at Hogan and Klink. "You two kept such a secret from me? Gentlemen, you will have to make up for this."
"We simply didn't want to put you under pressure, Sweetie," Robert said, with an innocent face no one believed to be true.
"He's right," Wilhelm nodded. "To have the general beneath the camp is like a bomb and…"
"I do hope, Klink, that you refer to the brisance and not to my appearance," Burkhalter sneered with a sideward glance, his inferior answered with a simple grin.
"Just choose the shoe that fits, my dear General," Will deadpanned, which elicited a laughter from Hogan and Newkirk.
The next moment they heard the horn howling above their heads, and Klink cursed quietly. The guards had given alert because of the incoming bombers. Shooing Hogan and his men towards the entrance of Barracks 2, he himself returned to his quarters to keep up the charade. His presence was needed in the compound, where he would have to order all POWs into their Barracks to keep them as safe as possible.
*** HH ***
The attack began shortly after three o'clock in the afternoon. Several bombers dropped their deadly freight around the town; others weren't able to aim that well. One bomb hit the courtyard of the presbytery that was risen in 1626 at the Oskar Röll Placa nearby the church St. Johannes, which had been mentioned in documents for the first time in 1389. Another bomb detonated exactly beside the church, destroying more than three century old leaded windows. Other bombs only hit empty streets or damaged a few houses.
As the squadron flew away, half a dozen fires had started within the town, and the firefighters were one of the first who left shelter to do their duties. The Stapo and members of the SS, having found protection in the cellars of the SS-HQ, roamed the street to offer help and find out how bad the damage was.
In the end, two people had lost their lives – a young woman at the presbytery and an older man at the edge of the town. The losses were therefore small, yet it showed the citizens who had lived a rather placid life until now.
*** HH ***
Schmidt and Fuhrmann stopped their car on the other side of the Saar Bridge as they approached Hammelburg. A few buildings were in flames, the figures of many people hastened through the streets outside of the town wall, and they heard the sirens of the firefighters. Yet the town was mostly intact. This much was to see even from the other side of the river.
"It could have been worse," Horst murmured. "Hogan's superior obviously prevented the full attack."
Fuhrmann nodded slowly. He had been oddly silent since their ride back to town and only now did he speak. "It's pure fortune that you and Colonel Hogan became allies."
Schmidt turned his head to the right and looked at his confidant. "You have to stomach all this, don't you? I refer to Hogan and my part in this whole…game."
The sergeant snorted before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "To admit the truth, I thought Hochstetter was right concerning the US colonel for quite some time now; yet I didn't say anything. You know why? I've woken up concerning our regime for over a year now. Major Hochstetter was the typical example for the insanity that spread more and more through our country. I also realized that he was obsessed with a captured US colonel, thinking he was the top spy Papa Bear. One by one I learned that this infamous Papa Bear kept the victims to the lowest number possible, even if the sabotages were often fatal. He showed mercy, while our men did rarely. So I could accept this man's battle against our brutal government, hoping it would shorten the war."
"It certainly did," Horst mused, and Fuhrmann sighed.
"I agree." He looked back at his superiors. "Then I met Hogan in person," he continued. "And I realized that I have on the one hand an oversized boy in front of me; on the other hand, he was in a certain way dangerous – a sleeping dragon, so to say. I assumed that Hochstetter had been right – that the colonel was indeed this wanted top spy, but I kept silent because what he did was fight against Hitler." He pursed his lips. "And I realized how you and he not only respected each other, but that you even worked together on a certain level when it came to the camp and town's safety. And I know you a little bit. That someone like Colonel Hogan is a dark knight for you. He fights his own battle, yet he sticks to the codex of honor and shows humanity. Even towards his supposed enemies." He glanced back towards the town. "Yet I have to admit; everything I learned and saw today shocked me a little bit."
Schmidt snorted. "Guess who was shocked too? You should have seen the tunnels – and the equipment. I have no clue how Hogan and his men managed to bring all those devices and costume stuff into camp without being caught, but that base is worth being a headquarters of the secret service."
Fuhrmann chuckled without humor. "I've learned about Papa Bear, and what I witnessed concerning Colonel Hogan, there is not so much that surprises me anymore." He frowned. "What about General Burkhalter? Any track?" As Horst hesitated a moment too long, the older man groaned and let his head sink into his neck again. "Let me guess; he's hiding in the tunnels. And that the Amis all of sudden are heading straight to Hammelburg is because of him – and of something he told Hogan."
Schmidt saw no reason to deny the whole thing anymore. Fuhrmann was in the same boat now, no matter what. "Himmler gave orders to evacuate a few camps, among them being Stalag 13. The officers have to be brought to Berlin as living shields, and the others shall walk to the middle of Germany. Those who are too weak have to be left behind to die."
Fuhrmann cursed. "And Burkhalter was against this order, therefore he fell from grace. And he travelled to Stalag 13 to strike a deal with Hogan, because he suspected him for years, too. His knowledge about the orders before they're given in exchange for Hogan's help. Am I right?"
"A hundred points to the gentlemen on my right side," Horst said.
The sergeant shook his head, snorted, and laughed finally. "What a crazy world – what a crazy little town!" He glanced back at Hammelburg. "If someone would have told me this story, I would say that they had a blooming fantasy." He lowered his head. "But it's always the same; most crazy stories are written by life."
Schmidt turned towards him as far as the seat allowed it. "What will you do now?"
The older man shrugged. "What can I do? I already made the first steps on the path towards treason. And with the Amis approaching, I think it's time to walk this path further. You are right, you know. Hitler has to be stopped. And if Hogan is an example of what to expect from our enemies, then I'll take my chance with him rather this insane man in Berlin."
"Who says 'A' has also to say 'B', you mean?" The Oberleutnant dared to joke softly, and his confidant nodded.
"Exactly." He rubbed his jaw. "The sudden approach of the Amis…They're coming for Hogan, aren't they?"
"Yes," Horst confirmed.
"That I'm calling loyalty." He took a deep breath. "Hopefully this loyalty is great enough for the leading US officer to listen to Hogan when it comes to the town and us."
*** HH ***
As Schmidt and Fuhrmann arrived ten minutes later at Gestapo Headquarters, they found controlled chaos. The Stapo and SS-members were trying to get some order into the citizens and refugees, the fire workers were still busy, and fled German soldiers, who weren't too badly injured, tried to help.
Until the later evening, Schmidt had all hands full trying to stop the mess the few hits of the Allies' bombers had left. Yet he had a certain gut feeling that the worst had still to come. And he should be right.
It was around eight o'clock in the evening when he finally found some time to go to his office. There was no way in hell that he would be able to get some desk job done. The current situation demanded action; not administration.
He checked the reports as a knock came at the door, and one of the guards escorted an unknown SS-man into the office.
"Herr Oberleutnant, this is Untersturmbandführer Heider. He comes from Bad Kissingen and has a message for you."
The newcomer gave the usual greeting before he offered Schmidt an envelope. "Herr Oberleutnant, this telegram reached our main post office an hour and a half ago. It's from the Reichsführer concerning Stalag 13. Because we weren't able to reach Hammelburg after the air raid, I was sent to hand you the order in person." He pulled a second envelop out of his coat pocket. "This is for the camp's Kommandant. I'm not familiar with this area and don't know how to get to Stalag 13. Is there a chance that you can send one of your men to deliver this message to the Kommandant?"
Schmidt signaled the Untersturmbandführer to put the second envelope on the desk, took the one that was meant for him, and opened it. A very bad feeling prickled his neck as he started to read, and his eyes widened. He felt himself paling, gripped for the telephone receiver, and asked the man in the HQ telephone exchange office. "Sundermann, do we have a link to Stalag 13?"
"I'm sorry, Herr Oberleutnant, but all lines out and into the town are dead. The main telephone exchange was damaged during the air raid," the other man informed him. "There won't be any repairs done until tomorrow."
Horst swallowed a curse. "Thank you," he said, and let the telephone receiver sink. He took a deep breath and looked up at Heider. "Thank you for your effort to give me those telegrams in person. I'll make certain that the order will reach Oberst Klink immediately." He glanced at the guard. "Take the Untersturmbandführer to our cantina, and let him have some dinner. It's late, and even if the way back to Bad Kissingen isn't that long, it will be unpleasant because of all the damaged roads."
"Thank you, Herr Oberleutnant." Heider saluted and followed the guard out of the office, not aware what the message did to Schmidt for real.
Horst stared down at the telegram that was meant for him. The worst case was about to take place, and he didn't know how to stop it. Again he read the fateful words:
'Evacuation of Stalag 13 on April 5th – STOP – SS-troop on its way to assume command at 0900 – STOP – Camp Kommandant informed – STOP – Your support demanded – STOP – POW transfer by train to Nürnberg – STOP – Clear roads to Hammelburg station. Signed, Reichsführer H…'
Not caring for any privacy of correspondence – or that he broke a dozen rules to read an order that was meant for the Wehrmacht and not for the SS – he opened the envelope with the telegram for Klink, hoping to gather more detailed information.
'Evacuation of Stalag 13 tomorrow on April 5th – STOP – SS-troop will assume command at 0800 hours – STOP – overhand POWs; officers will be deported separately – STOP – Eliminate non-transportable POWs – STOP – Approaching US-troops shall not integrate them in their fighting unit – STOP – You and your officers have to report to HQ in Grafenwöhr. Signed, Reichsführer…'
Pinching his nose, Schmidt closed his eyes. Tomorrow morning the camp was going to be evacuated by the Waffen-SS, the officers would be brought to Berlin, and those who were ill or too weak to walk would be killed. And General Butler was still fighting in Gemünden.
Hitting the desk with his fist, Schmidt made a decision. A minute later, he headed to his car to use the radio there. He had to speak with Klink. Somehow they had to stall time until the cavalry had arrived.
TBC…
Well, Hammelburg begins to face the hard side of the war. I want to inform you that the whole background story of the 'last days of Hammelburg during the war' are basing on true history, and that everything that happens within the town, was true. The air-raid, the victims, the camping of the retreating German soldiers and everything else you're going to read within the next chapters, were real and can be read in the Hammelburg Journals. I only changed the names (like that of the burgomaster, yet him slapping a boy for not giving him the H.-greeting is history, too). And I took the liberties to put by own created characters into the positions of those who really were on duty during these last two days.
In the next chapter, the last big show-down begins. While the SS-troop arrives in Hammelburg to take over Stalag 13 and to evacuate the camp, Schmidt gives his best to stall time. In the meanwhile, Klink does the only thing he thought he would never have to do as he took charge of the camp, yet it's inevitable to save the day – and it will change everything within Stalag 13…
I hope, you liked the new chapter and I'm looking forward to learn of your thoughts and reactions. Once again sorry for the delayed update; the next one will come quicker (promise).
Have a nice rest of Sunday and a good start into the new week.
Love
Yours Starflight
