Hi, my dear readers,

I'm soooo sorry that you had to wait again, but I'm really drowning in chaos at the moment. After I got well again, we had another problem. Our neighbor cut off trees and one of them fell on our fence in the back of the garden. Flower beds, grass, fence, bushes – everything was 'flat'. And the part of the fence that had fallen prey to the tree, torn down larger parts of the rest of the fence, too. In other words: We needed a new fence and had to bring some order in our garden. The most work is done by now, yet you can really see, where the mess took place.

But finally, after doing the last things yesterday (in the rain and we looked like drown cats), we're done so far. Hopefully the time will get calmer now.

Thank you for the feedback, and I hope, you're going to like the new chapter (the 100th! YEAH!). Danger is closing up on the men within the wires of Stalag 13, and it seems as if the 'cavalry' comes too late…

Enjoy

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 100 – Surrender

Schmidt's message was like a bombshell as Baker, who once again had the night watch, brought the news to Klink and Hogan.

"Tomorrow?" The Oberst's voice was far too high, while he slipped back into his uniform jacket. He, Hogan, and the others had already started to make themselves ready to go to bed, but there was no thinking of it anymore now.

"Dammit!" Hogan snarled. "Please don't tell me that they'll take us away a few hours before the cavalry arrives."

Baker nodded with a grim expression on his face. "I have Schmidt still on the radio. The telephone lines in Hammelburg are dead because of the bombing seven hours ago, and he's using the radio of his car."

Robert had put on his bomber jacket and raced to the entrance beneath the furnace, Klink and Baker following from behind.

The mood down in the tunnels was nervous, to put it mildly. The news had already spread, and even Burkhalter lacked of any arrogance, as he kneaded his hands and glanced at Hogan expectantly. The colonel cursed inwardly.

A minute later, he got into contact with the Oberleutnant. "Schmidt? It's me. Did we get this right? The evacuation shall begin tomorrow at eight o'clock?"

"Yes, that's the official order. A whole troop of SS-men are on their way to Hammelburg." Horst sighed. "Can you contact your superior and tell him to hurry up?"

"I'm sure he's already in a hurry, but when those idiots of the Wehrmacht still barricade the way, he'll be forced to stay in Gemünden until the town is completely conquered," Hogan growled, his clever mind already beginning to scheme. "Schmidt?" he asked slowly. "Do you know which way the SS will take to Hammelburg?"

"No, they can come from everywhere. But given the fact that they're needed at the battle fronts the most, I think Himmler ordered a troop from the more inner German area to go to Hammelburg."

"Hm…there are not so many roads they can take," Hogan mused. "If we destroy them, then the guys are delayed."

"It's also possible that they'll come by train. The railway from the north to Hammelburg is relatively intact, and the order says that your men shall be transported by train. So…"

Hogan could 'hear' Schmidt shrugging. "In other words, we have to attack the roads and the railways leading to Hammelburg," Hogan sighed.

"That also will give your boys problems to reach you in time," Schmidt threw in for consideration.

"Many paths lead to Rome, like an old saying goes," Hogan mused. "I think the cavalry has to come through the backdoor."

"The backdoor? You mean through the woods, because there is nothing else behind the camp than bushes and trees."

Hogan felt a short grin tugging at his mouth. "Well, we have tanks. I don't think a few bushes will be a hindrance."

"I learned that the success of an attack lies in the element of surprise. This will be a little bit complicated when tanks crash through the woods like a pod of elephants." Black humor mirrored in Horst's voice.

"Don't worry; a few deer and foxes will protest because of the noise, but anything else will be okay," Robert replied wryly. Then he turned serious again. "Go back into your HQ and stay near the staircases to reach the cellars in time. It could be that air raid alert given soon. I'll try to call some birds over that'll hopefully force the approaching troop to take detours or stop for a few hours. Don't fear; Hammelburg will be kept out of it," he added quickly.

"I trust you with the latter, my friend," Schmidt said, then the connection was cut off.

By now, Baker had alerted the other Heroes, who climbed down into the tunnels – partly wearing their night clothes. One gaze at their superior and friend, and they knew that something was up.

"What's the matter, Colonel?" Kinch addressed him.

"The evacuation begins at 0800 tomorrow – or so Himmler thinks. But we'll put a spoke into his wheel, mark my words." He glanced at Baker, who sat down at the radio again. "Contact Butler. We're in need for a few birds – and he has to make a trip through the woods and fields." He pursed his lips and raised his voice as he addressed no one in particular of the people behind him. "Is someone among our hidden friends here who knows the forest paths and supply roads in this area?"

"Me, Colonel." Schnitzer pushed through the crowd that had gathered in the tunnels near the small entrance to the radio room. No one had ignored the sudden fuss that was made by Baker and then by Hogan.

"Oscar, we need your help," Robert addressed him directly. "Tomorrow our boys will come, but they have to use unofficial ways, because the official roads will be even more damaged than they already are. Someone has to intercept them and lead them to the camp. Can you do it?"

The older man nodded without hesitation. "I'll take one of my dogs and my niece with me. Should we be stopped by the Gestapo or SS, I have a good excuse to be out here – picking up an ill dog and taking my niece to the 'safety of Hammelburg'."

Hogan nodded in agreement. "Thanks. I'll tell Butler what to expect." He looked to Baker, who was still trying to reach the general. "Any success?"

"He's still on the border of Gemünden. As it seems, they won, but there are still some dudes putting up some resistance. Butler's adjutant said he's trying to get him to the next radio."

Hogan groaned and exchanged a glance with Wilhelm, who had crossed his arms in front of his chest and chewed at his lips. The wheels were turning behind the Oberst's head, and Robert couldn't suppress the gut feeling that his beloved was up to something.

"Colonel, I have General Butler for you," Baker interrupted his thoughts, and sighing, Hogan bent over the microphone. Maybe it would be useful to get a non-switched line to his superior and mentor.

*** HH ***

The whole night flying activities around the area of Hammelburg didn't give any citizen, refugee, casualty, or even Schmidt and his men any kind of rest. Many explosions were to be heard, but not one hit the town. Horst was glad about it, but also relieved as he realized that there couldn't be much roads left intact. To evacuate the camp before the US troops were here was impossible now.

But war was reaching out with burning claws for the small city and camp. While in Hammelburg the first real strike against the town had been rather a close shave, the battle at Gemünden was fierce. The town that was famous for its closed development of the 16th and 17th century; the whole ancient part of the city had been built in the Middle Ages and had been completely intact. That was until March 16th, when the first air raid had hit the town. The citizens had wanted to surrender as the US troops arrived, but the Waffen-SS and officers of the Wehrmacht didn't listen to reason and chose to fight.

The outcome was a catastrophe. More than two thirds of the town lay in ruins afterwards, and the artillery had mainly hit the middle and west parts of the town, where the Middle Age center had been. The historical townhall, the church Peter & Paul, the witch tower, the historical market plaza – everything was burned down. The fight lasted one and a half days, then the German defense retreated, leaving the surviving citizens to the mercy of 'the enemy'.

On the next day, April 5th, General Butler entered the town early in the morning and was shocked about the scale of devastation – not only concerning the buildings, but mainly because of the survivals. They walked around with dead eyes, covered in ash and dust, too desperate to find even care as the GIs entered the streets.

Alex was furious. Such a waste, and for what? For a small town at the Main River near the Bavarian border? And what did those cowardly SS and Wehrmacht members do? First they forced their people to stay, and now they left them, delivering them to 'the enemy' only to save their own skin.

Butler ordered dozens of his men to remain in Gemünden, sent some of the doctors to the injured citizens, and made sure that food was given to the women and children. Yet he himself was in a haste to get to Stalag 13. The short talk with his 'chosen son' the evening prior had made it clear that he and Hogan were battling against time now, and Butler was hell-bent to win this race.

*** HH *** HH ***

"What the hell is going on out there?" Schmidt rose from his desk, went to the window, and opened it. Icy air hit him, but this didn't hinder him from bending out of the window. He hadn't found much sleep last night – here and there half an hour, before the next alert was given. And now he felt beaten into the ground.

Now, in the early morning hours, he was disturbed with a lot of new noises; mainly voices and the droning of cars and trucks. The racket came from the direction of the river Fränkische Saale that curled around Hammelburg in the south in a large bow.

There was a hard knocking at his door and before he could reply, Fuhrmann stepped in. "Sorry for the lack of protocol, Herr Oberleutnant, but Hammelburg is getting crowded by our soldiers."

Horst stared flabbergasted at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I sent two men out as the noises started half an hour ago. They just returned. A few hundred men of the Wehrmacht, different SS-departments, and the Volkssturm are arriving bit by bit in Hammelburg. A large bunch of scratched soldiers, most of them injured, but armed. If you ask me, it seems that they are…well…retreating from somewhere."

Schmidt frowned. German soldiers who retreated and technically fled through this area? Gemünden. They were coming from Gemünden, no doubt. Did it mean that the battle there was over and General Butler was already heading to Hammelburg? He hoped so.

"Where are those men now?" He asked, and walked to one of the visitor chairs where he had lain his coat. If the Americans arrived and found hundreds of German soldiers here, the town would be thrown into battle. There wouldn't be any other option left – something Schmidt wanted to prevent on all costs.

"They are gathering on the market place and along the river bank. Mainly at the street Langer Graben."

This was one parallel street away from here. Schmidt shook his head and slipped into his coat. "Any officers I can speak to?" he asked Fuhrmann, who shrugged.

"A few of them are officers, but none are really of higher ranking. A Wehrmachts Captain is in charge – if you can call it that at all. Our men got the impression that this whole bunch is more like a flock of chased chickens than anything else."

Schmidt hesitated. "There are more casualties you said?"

"Almost everybody is somehow hurt. They're giving a pity sight. I already alerted the hospital, but I don't think our doctors and nurses will be able to help all of them."

Horst concentrated on the most important topics for now. "What about food? Water?"

"They brought some with them, but if they should stay here for a few days, I will run out of provision. And then we have even more trouble. The town is already full with refugees we can barely offer enough food. Now a few hundred soldiers…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"Dammit!" Schmidt cursed and left his office, Fuhrmann on this tail

*** HH *** HH ***

It was nine-thirty, and there was no track from the approaching SS-troop that was ordered to evacuate the camp. It was a good sign, but the Heroes, Hogan, and Klink remained nervous. The same went for Schultz, Langenscheidt, and Burkhalter.

Will had been unusually silent the whole morning until now, as he sat down at the dining table in his quarters, took a few sheets of paper, a pen, and began to write. Ten minutes later, he put the pen aside and stared down at the document wearing his signature and the print of a seal he brought with him from his office.

For a very long moment, he could only look at the written lines, then he took a deep breath. As he gained command of Stalag 13, he had never thought it would come this this. Hitler had been so convincing, the government was so strong, the country's economy was blooming like never before. A war – nothing new. Not for the soldier Wilhelm Klink. After the 'Great War', he had thought to know all the angst, blood, and horror open battles held. He had been wrong, as he had to learn three years later. He was shot down over France and became the Kommandant of a POW camp – a progress that opened his eyes in a way he never had thought possible. The 'enemies' became men. Hogan and his gang were people like all the others – taunting, yes, but Klink had learned to respect and even like this unruly bunch of oversized boys. It made him see that something with the declaration that every enemy was less human was wrong. Then the true dread within his country began, and he was forced to overthink his views.

In the end, he had to accept that the inhumane beings were not the enemies, but his own people – those who looked away and ignored the suffering of others, and those who did all the murders. The acknowledgement of it changed everything in Klink. Never in a million years he had pictured himself becoming a traitor to his own government, but here he was; a supporter of the Allies, a fighter for the POWs (and his own men), and a spy.

His glance sharpened as he took in the written lines one last time. This was the end of his command and also the end of his military career. This here would change everything for him – and he could only pray that it would be for the best.

Rising, he straightened his uniform, stepped to one of the windows, and opened it. "SCHUUUUUUULTZ!"

Well, this was another thing he wouldn't do ever again when this here was over. Schultz and he would be equals; not superior and underling anymore. In a certain way, he regretted it. On the other hand, he was grateful that he had such a loyal sergeant of the guard who even had become a kind of friend.

"You called, Herr Kommandant?" Schultz stopped outside of the building and saluted.

"Please ask Colonel Hogan and Lt. Colonel Connor to come over."

Hans frowned. 'Ask them over'? Well, that was a new one. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

Klink nodded, closed the window, and poured four glasses of wine he had scrounged from Hogan's 'stock' in the tunnels. He didn't have to wait long. Two minutes later, a knock came at the door, and the two Americans were led in by Schultz, who looked curiously at the filled glasses.

"Close the door, Schultz," Klink said, while he remained standing beside the table. "Colonel Hogan, Lt. Colonel Connor, thank you for coming this quickly."

Robert frowned. "Why so formal, Will?" he asked, assuming that something serious happened since roll call and now.

"Because, this is a very official meeting, my dear Colonel." Klink replied, and waved Schultz over. "Sergeant Schultz, Lt. Colonel Connor, I ask you to be the witness from both sides for what will happen now."

Now on alert, Hogan cocked his head, while he watched Wilhelm picking up a paper. The Oberst looked down on it one last time, took a very deep breath, and offered the sheet to his American counterpart. "Colonel Hogan, I hereby surrender Luft-Stalag 13 to the West Allies. I render this document of surrender to you and lay the fate of my men and myself into your hands. No conditions, I only have one request. One, I know I don't have to mention towards you, but it has to be said to observe the properties: Please make sure that my men will be treated fairly. Whatever happens to me is up to your superiors."

Hogan looked with wide eyes at the paper, then at Wilhelm, and back again. "You…what?"

Klink sighed. "This camp will not be conquered – not even officially. When General Butler arrives, he'll find Stalag 13 already in charge of an American officer: You." He smiled a little bit ruefully as Robert finally took the document and continued. "Given the fact that you're my Senior POW Officer and come from the United States of America, I hope this camp will remain under American command. I know that the Russians are not very considering when it comes to us, and the same goes for the Frenchmen. The Brits aren't that merciful, too, but I heard that you Americans treat the captured Germans fairly and humanly. I want this for my men, even if I have no real saying in the matter."

Connor and Schultz had exchanged a few surprised gazes, now the lieutenant colonel stepped beside Hogan and glanced down at the paper in his hand. Yes, Wilhelm Klink belonged to the Underground, and even before he switched sides he had handled the POWs of this camp well as he had heard, but he hadn't thought that the Oberst would make this step. Surrender. It must be difficult for him.

Robert's thoughts went into the same direction. He knew how proud Will was, even if in the past his tendency to cowardice had made him bent to one pressure or the other. Yet Wilhelm Klink had kept his odd mixture of haughtiness and need to make everything right for everyone. To lay down his command now and surrender was certainly not easy for him. It would be hard for Hogan if he would be in his lover's place, and he knew that they both ticked in the same way when it came to their responsibility.

Taking a deep breath, Robert cocked his head. "You know what this means," he said softly, and Wilhelm nodded.

"Yes."

Rob gave him a gentle smile before he looked down at the document again.

This was the official end of his and the others' captivity. From now on this camp was under American command, and they weren't POWs any longer. The time of roll calls, light out, lazy activities to stay fit, waiting for Red Cross packages or news from home was finally over. Yes, they were still deep in German territory, and the war continued to rage, but their own imprisonment was over. It was…somehow surreal, yet so very welcomed despite his deep feelings for Will and his friendship with Schultz and Langenscheidt.

"I accept your surrender, Colonel Klink," he said formally, straightened his shape, and gave his German counterpart a proper salute – the first real one since he was brought into Stalag 13. Will returned the military greeting, as did Connor and Schultz, both Germans even clicking their heels.

Then Klink lowered his head, took a very deep breath, let it escape in a half sigh, and went to the table to pick up the tray with glasses. "I know this is certainly a reason to celebrate for you, and I'm sure I need a drink, so please accept my invitation."

"Danke, Herr Kommandant," Schultz beamed, and reached for one of the glasses.

Klink shot him a glare. "Schultz, haven't you listened? I'm no longer the Kommandant here, but Colonel Hogan is. So he gets the first glass. Then comes Lt. Colonel Connor, then I as the still higher ranking German officer, and then finally you." He shook his head, murmuring something about 'greed' and 'up-bringing'.

Hogan winked at Schultz. "Stay calm, Hans. He's only grumpy because of the whole situation."

"I'm never grumpy," Klink grumbled, earning him a snicker from his beloved and a soft laugh from Connor.

Clinking the glasses together, the four men took a few sips before Robert said quietly, "You know, there was no need to surrender. You're an ally and…"

Will shook his head. "Wrong, Rob. There was no other choice left than to surrender. I know that your superior and mentor won't do anything rash against the camp, but I had to make this step for two reasons. To protect every man within the wires, no matter the uniform, and because of the given order to hand you all over to the SS. I can't follow that order when I'm no longer in charge. This order is for naught, when no German officer leads this camp to follow the instruction."

"You still think the bastards will come," Robert mused, and Klink grimaced.

"They're on their way here no matter the difficulties. I'm sure that after last night most roads in this area barely exist anymore…but I know the SS. They're worse than bloodhounds. Set free they stop at nothing. There is still the chance that they'll make it to Stalag 13 earlier than your general – and I won't take the risk that they'll begin to abduct my POWs and kidnap you and the other officers. They can't do anything when the camp is already under American control."

Connor had listened closely, and he had to admit that he felt touched. "You only surrendered to protect us against your own executive forces?" he asked slowly.

Wilhelm sighed again. "Usually a Klink would never surrender. I'm coming from a family whose male members traditionally visit the military academy. But let's face it; if I surrender now, or if General Butler has to 'conquer' it officially in a few hours ends in the same result, only without any casualties – hopefully." He snorted. "Where is the logic in pretending to be a 'loyal little Nazi', when in truth I'm on the Allies' side for quite some time now?"

"Yet we have to pretend that Stalag 13 is still under German command," Hogan thought aloud. "If those guys arrive and see that not your men but mine have the watch, they might attack and cause a lot of bloodshed. Everything has to be normal on the outside to rise no suspicion."

Wilhelm shook his head. "Yet we have to make sure that your men and mine can switch places within a few seconds when your cavalry arrives. I don't want to give your comrades the wrong idea."

"And therefore you have to speak with your men and tell them the truth. They deserve it," Hogan suggested.

Klink nodded. "I know. And tell you what, it scares me more than writing this damn declaration of surrender." He sighed. "And you speak with yours?"

Robert made an affirming gesture and turned towards Connor, handing him over the document. "Take this to my former office in Barracks 2. My desk is still there. Put it in the only drawer. And then please give word to all POWs that there will be a gathering in the middle yard of camp in half an hour."

Connor saluted and took the paper. "Aye, Colonel."

Klink glanced at his sergeant of the guard. "Schultz, roll call of all of our guards in thirty minutes at the front yard where usual roll call of the POWs takes place."

"All of our guards?"

"Yes, all have to come." He gave Hogan a short glance. "The POWs will have their own meeting at this moment, and none of them will be stupid enough to make a run for the fences when their cavalry is already approaching. Yet you should remain on one of the watch towers to warn us should those SS-men come exactly instead."

Schultz sighed, but saluted obediently. Then he and Connor left Klink's quarters.

The two highest ranking officers were alone, and almost instantly, Will sat down at the table, his long figure folded into himself. For a long moment, both didn't say a word. Then Klink murmured, "So, that's it."

Rob knew to what his lover was referring and sat down beside him. He could imagine what Wilhelm was feeling right now. Reaching out, he took the older man's hand into his. "You know, you didn't have to do it. You could have surrendered to Butler when he arrives and…"

The Oberst shook his head. "No. The only man I have ever surrendered to is you – in private. To do it officially now wasn't so hard, because I trust you with every fiber of my being. And it feels right that you are in command of the camp now, if only for a few hours." He snorted suddenly. "Right, you lead this camp in the background for three years now, but now it's official." He winked at the younger man.

Robert smiled softly and bent forwards. "So, you're my Senior POW Officer now," he teased gently, and Will shrugged.

"Yes, obviously."

"Well, my dear Oberst, then there applies only one rule for you in private: Stay the way you are." He closed the distance to Will and gave him a tender kiss. Instantly he felt one of Wilhelm's long hands on the back of his neck, and for a few seconds, there was nothing else in the whole world than them. Then they broke apart, and Robert saw sorrow in those blue-grey eyes. "What is it?"

"You will leave then, won't you? I'm sure Butler will fly you and your gang out back to London. And then…" He lowered his gaze.

Robert felt an icy hand gripping for his heart. He hadn't thought of that detail, and the realization that he and Will may be separated within the next one or two days was like a blow to his whole being. Tightening his hold around Wilhelm's hand, he whispered, "I'll try to stay. I don't want to abandon this camp and sit somewhere safe and sound. I want to lead it 'til the war is over – together with you. I know the latter wouldn't be possible, but I'll ask Butler to let you stay. As a kind of middleman between us and the citizens of Hammelburg. I'm sure I can convince him."

"And…if not?" Klink asked quietly.

"I don't accept a 'no' – not even from Butler. You know how persuasive I can be," Hogan grinned.

Rolling his eyes, Klink nodded. "Yeah, I perfectly know that," he teased.

*** HH ***

As all POWs built lines in the middle yard of the camp between several Barracks, and Colonel Robert Hogan appeared in his dress uniform, everyone knew that something important happened. Connor had spread the order through the Barracks, but he kept silent about the reason for this intern roll call. He didn't even inform the Heroes, who were all in the compound, too. One of the Underground members had manned the radio down in the tunnels for the case that someone tried to contact Papa Bear, therefore everyone of Hogan's gang was present.

As Hogan stopped in front of them and Connor stepped at his side, all men snapped to attention, legs spread, hands clasped behind the back, shoulders set back.

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming," Hogan started rather casually, earning him here and there a few snickers. "At ease," he ordered, lifting one hand. Instantly the men left the military stance and stood more relaxed in front of him.

Hogan took a deep breath. "Gentlemen, at first I want to thank you all for your matchless good behavior during your whole time of captivity. You not only kept the discipline to make this camp functional, you also stayed together as comrades and helped each other whenever it was necessary. Except for a few quarrels, which are understandable in the given situation, you all were living examples of military spirit and tolerance to everyone. I'm proud and grateful to be the commanding officer of such fine men and to have your personal loyalty no matter what."

He began to pace a few steps back and forth before he straightened his shape once again. "Let me begin with the real reason you were gathered here and now. You certainly have heard the rumors within the last few days that our comrades are on their way to Hammelburg. This is no rumor, but a fact." The first whispers were to be heard. "To be blunt, they're coming to our rescue and will reach the camp sometime today." Disbelief, hope, happiness, triumph…All of this was to be read on the POWs' faces and heard in their murmurs.

"There is also the order from Berlin to evacuate this camp before our boys are able to reach us," Robert continued, and watched how shock and even fear began to replace the joy, so he quickly lifted a hand and added, "In consideration of all of that, Kommandant Klink made a decision to avoid this order and therefore to keep us safe until our boys are here. Half an hour ago he officially surrendered Stalag 13 to me and therefore to the United States of America." He had to raise his voice in the end to overtone the rising cheers and applause. He gave the men a few moments to enjoy the news, then he called for silence – something that didn't happen soon. Too strong were all the emotions of the men as they all of a sudden faced an end of their captivity – the light at the end of the tunnel, so to say.

"I say tear down the damn Nazi color from the Kommandantur!" LeBeau shouted in glee.

"Yeah, we made a banner of our stars and stripes already two days ago, Colonel," Carter called happily. "Let's raise it."

"Get the guards and throw them into the cooler!" another man screamed.

"Yeah, let them taste their own medici…"

"STOP!" Hogan's voice could have forced a flock of panicking gnus on halt. "We do nothing of that – not before General Butler is here. As I just told you, an SS-troop is expected to take us away. If they see that this camp is no longer under German control, they'll attack. So on the outside nothing will change, yet we're in command." He took another deep breath as he saw confusion, disappointment, and even anger on some faces.

"Last night our fighters tried to destroy as many roads as possible in this area to slow the SS-troop down. And our German allies are delaying the SS arrival right now and trying to prevent the worst. So, we have to do our part of the whole matter to stay safe here until the cavalry comes."

"German allies?" A Canadian flyer rose to speak. "I know that members of the Underground hide in…well…"

Hogan smiled at him. "They hide in the tunnels, yes. You can say it openly, Douglas. There is no reason anymore to keep it a secret." He glanced at all the men. "I know that most of you are aware of my men and my 'job' here, but to tell you once and for all the truth: Yes, I'm Papa Bear. The man half of Germany is after. And before you consider to take any kind of revenge against some of the guards or the Kommandant himself, let me tell you one more thing: Colonel Klink knows of this for more or less from the beginning and supported my missions."

Gasps, astonished faces, and open mouths were the result.

"Yes, he's on our side, and without him neither my men nor I would have made it so far. We would be dead and buried for years by now. And the same goes for Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt. They knew about us, too, and stayed silent, so please considerate that before you judge them." He straightened his shape. "And regarding the other guards. I've gotten enough information about the conditions in other POW camps to know that we were lucky here. I heard of abuse, malice, and despotism for what are the guards in other camps are responsible. Our guards here only did their job and left us alone."

"That's true," Baker murmured. "With a few of them, you can even talk to from time to time."

Hogan nodded. "Yes, you're right. We all could have faced a lot worse during the last three years. Just remember how you all stuck together after Hochstetter tried to murder Colonel Klink. Most of you were ready to donate blood for the Kommandant and stayed in the compound to get news about the emergency operation that was done in the infirmary. You all realized that he isn't a bad man – especially after we got a taste of how this camp could be when Klink isn't in charge. You and the guards missed him as he was away in Berlin because the interims Kommandant was horrible. Just think of it when you judge the men along the wires and in the watch towers, and I'm sure you'll see it likewise. They aren't evil."

He began to path anew. "They aren't SS, who are trained to abandon all kinds of sympathy and have to show cruelness in order to climb up the career ladder. Our guards were never brutal and beneath their uniforms they are simply humans. And the most of them are young enough to be almost our sons or old enough to be our fathers. They don't know what to expect from us. They have been fed with fake stories about shown brutalities, which aren't true – at least where our boys are involved." He stopped and faced the many lines of soldiers again. "So please, take this into consideration when you're dealing with them after the liberation."

One man lifted his hand like he was in school. Hogan glanced at him. "Yes, Erickson?"

"Sir, what shall we do if this SS-troop appears before our boys are here?"

"Colonel Klink is speaking with his own men just right now. To the outside, everything remains like it was, only the guards will be ready to switch places with you – means they'll give up their duty station and give their weapons to you. And this goes for both cases: The arrival of the SS or our boys. I'm even sure that a few of them would fight the SS to protect the camp and therefore you. But even if not, we completely outnumber the SS-men. Yet, if it comes to that, we let them in, then we take over, and the bastards are captured. Colonel Klink is scheming the details with his men."

"You think they're going to betray their own comrades?" another POW asked, flabbergasted.

Hogan smirked. "The SS and the Wehrmacht were never 'comrades'. They are rivals and fight together if ordered, no less or more. And believe me; knowing that a whole US division is approaching, the hell they will put up resistance to us. They know that the game is over for them, and I'm sure they're even relieved about it." He was right.

More than a 150 meters away, Klink stood in front of his own men, who were lined up in the compound. None of them were missing, only Schultz stood in one of the watch towers at the main gates and watched the road outside with eagle eyes.

The guards all stared shocked but also almost glad at him. He just had told them that he had surrendered the camp to the Senior POW Officer, Colonel Hogan, because a whole US division was only a few hours away from Stalag 13 and was only coming for this camp, and an SS-troop was about to arrive to evacuate the camp and kill POWs too weak to be transferred.

The latter especially shook several dozens of the guards. To keep someone captive on order was one thing. To kill someone who was defenseless was a completely different pair of shoes. And if said someone were men they knew for years now, they couldn't simply stand aside and watch. Yes, they should, but they couldn't. And there was also the matter of the approaching GIs. Even the most stupid of the guards knew that they wouldn't stand a chance against the US men, and none of them wanted to die for something that was lost. So, surrender rose their chance of survival. They all had known that this day would come sooner or later. And after all the battle noises the wind carried from Gemünden and the air fighter attacks within the last several hours, they all had realized that said day had come.

"I know you all had thought it would end differently, but we all realized during the last few weeks that Germany couldn't win the war anymore – and shouldn't," Klink continued his speech, riding crop clamped beneath his left arm, right hand on his back, stance proud and unwavering. This was the hour of truth, and he would stay to it; consequences be dammed. Robert told his men the truth at the moment, so Wilhelm would not back down from doing the same.

"What has been ordered from Berlin in the last few weeks clearly shows that our regime and most of the executive forces are out of control. Orders to kill our own people, burn down our own houses and facilities, destroy our fields that will rob our people of any food in the upcoming winter – this all is an indirect order for suicide and nothing more. No leader should demand something like this from his people – from the civilians no less. If this was a taste of how Hitler wants to rule the world, it's my personal opinion that the world has to be saved from him and his confidants. I know what I'm saying now is betrayal, but on the other hand, we all made an oath to protect our country and its people. We are members of the Wehrmacht. No in-called civilians with an unholy greed for power and might like the SS. So we simply do this: Fulfilling our oath, and if this means to stand up against a man who obviously lost his mind and rather hides in his bunker instead of fighting at the front, then we do it."

Most guards stared wide-eyed at him; others whispered until one dared to ask, "Herr Kommandant, I understand your reason to surrender this camp. And I agree that the last several weeks have shown a side of our Führer no one thought to exist. But…as it seems, you thought about something like this for much longer. May I ask if you sympathize with the Allies?"

Klink exchanged a short look with Langenscheidt, who stood at the front of the guards, and gave him a short nod. So, Karl knew. Of course he knew. Glancing up at the watch tower, he saw that Schultz was listening, too – and aimed his rifle at the guards, even if not at anyone in particular. There was the tiny chance that the guards would revolt, but Hans would have his back, no matter what.

"I support them, Private Hermann," Klink revealed. "After I realized what our regime really does to people who don't play along or regard other men, women, and children as 'sub-beings' I've begun to fulfill my given oath in the only way possible: Fighting this madness. And I'm proud of it." He took a deep breath. "You certainly want to know to what I'm referring when I speak of 'what the regime does to people they regard as 'sub-beings'. Well, let me tell you something you're going to learn about anyway. So, let it be me who tells you the brutal truth. You all deserve this truth." He straightened his shape. "Ever heard of Auschwitz?"

*** HH *** HH ***

"Herr Oberleutnant!" Fuhrmann's shout droned out even the hundreds of voices, moans, and calls for help as he headed towards his superior, who stood in the middle of dozens of fled German soldiers, speaking with someone in the torn uniform of a captain.

Hearing his confidant calling for him, Schmidt turned around and groaned inwardly as he saw a figure beside Fuhrmann, wearing the grey uniform with the black collar of the Waffen-SS. He knew what this meant: The escort had arrived. Then he took a closer look at the stranger, who…who wasn't a stranger at all.

Fuhrmann stopped in front of his superior and gave him an apologizing smile, while beside him the SS-officer glanced hastily at Horst.

"Major Hartmann," Schmidt greeted him coolly.

"Oberleutnant Schmidt, we met again," Hartmann replied icily – and exactly as arrogant as he was the last time he was in Hammelburg. "I have to apologize for the delayed arrival of my men and I, but because of the many air raids last night, we had to make detours to reach Hammelburg." He looked around. "Why are all these people still in the street between the south border of town and the station? I think you had extra time to clear the area."

Schmidt felt sheer anger only at the man's presence, not to speak of Hartmann's manners – or the lack of it. Yet he kept a tight façade. He knew that this was the right time to test his skills as an actor again.

"These people are injured members of the Wehrmacht, the Volkssturm, and your forces, Major, as I'm sure you already recognized. They came from Gemünden that was conquered by the Americans yesterday. And why they are on the streets and on the market place is certainly a question you can answer for yourself; there isn't enough room in the town's houses to offer them a place to stay for a day or two."

Hartmann grimaced. "They 'came' from Gemünden, hm? I rather think those cowards fled."

The Wehrmacht captain, who still stood beside Schmidt, took a deep breath. "How dare you!" he snarled. "We were ordered to retreat so that our soldiers can be appointed to other tasks. There is no reason to sacrifice all of them when a town is lost. Every single man is still needed – and every one of them risked his life to protect our country. So stop offending them."

"They didn't win, so…"

Hartmann was interrupted by the captain. "At least they fought. Where are your battle scars, Major? Your uniform is clean and in one piece, your hair is well done, and you're even freshly shaved." He pointed at the men nearby, who sat on the pavements and the ground exhausted, wounded, and dirty like they crossed a desert. "My men and those of the other units fought for two days in the middle of an inferno. Maybe you should try something like this before you judge my men!"

The major straightened his shape. "I think you don't know to whom you're talking."

"I'm talking to a man of the SS, who doesn't even belong to the fighting units, but has a big mouth as soon as he faces some complications like I just learned by simply listening to you. And I don't care for your rank. You're SS; I'm in the Wehrmacht! And I think fighting men value more to the Führer than a snob!" He nodded at Schmidt. "Sorry, Herr Oberleutnant; you and the sergeant don't belong to the snobs. You took us in and tried to help us, but exceptions confirm the rules." With those words, he turned around and walked away, pulling his left leg behind him that was treated with a make-shift bandage.

Hartmann stared at him, growled something beneath his breath, and turned his attention back to Schmidt. "I have no time for such nonsense. I'm already late. So please clear the road from the south to the station, and your men shall accompany mine to Stalag 13."

Schmidt frowned. "What for?"

Hartmann pursed his lips. "This is really no time for kidding, Herr Oberleutnant. I'm sure you are aware that I'm here to take over the POWs of Stalag 13 and to make sure that the officers are transferred to a location to the Führer's liking." It was obvious that he enjoyed this. "Finally, Connor and his gooneys will get what they deserve."

Schmidt felt nausea washing over him, but also rising fury he controlled again. Hartmann was a sadist. That he hadn't been punished for his rough handling of the POWs of Camp 64 was still a miracle for Horst. On the other hand, after all those inhumane and brutal orders the Reichsführer had given within the last two weeks, it shouldn't be a surprise that men like Hartmann went by unpunished.

"You want what?" he asked, baffled; pretending again to have no knowledge of the newest orders. "Taking over the POWs of Stalag 13?"

Hartmann glared at him. "The orders were given yesterday. You were instructed to clear the way to the station and support my men with the task." Something dark lurked in his eyes.

Schmidt blinked at him. "I got instructions?" He glanced at Fuhrmann. "Have you heard of such an order?"

The sergeant shook his head, knowing to what his superior was up to. "No, sir. The official post and telegrams were all given to you yesterday and this morning – well, there weren't any incomes last evening and this morning, what's no miracle given all the attacks since yesterday afternoon. And I can't remember that there was a message from Berlin at all."

Hartmann stared at him. "You…you want to tell me that you didn't know that Stalag 13 has to be evacuated?"

Horst knew that there was the big chance that Hartmann knew about the personal messenger from Bad Kissingen, yet no risk no fun, like the old saying went. So he answered with his best voice of pure astonishment, "No, this is the first I hear of it. Does Oberst Klink know?"

"How should I know if that living stick with a monocle got the new orders? I'm SS, not the Luftwaffe. The laziness of these guys already wear down our glorious Reich, so it wouldn't be much surprise to me if he simply hasn't opened his letters or telegrams within the last few days," the major scoffed.

Schmidt felt his blood begin to boil. "For your information, Major Hartmann, Oberst Klink is a very dutiful and successful Kommandant. There wasn't a single escape from his camp since he took over command, and that's something even your comrades can't tell of themselves, despite the fact that they lead their camps like a place in hell."

For a long moment, the two men only stared at each other, then Hartmann asked sharply, "I read from your words that you hadn't a clue of the order that was given by Himmler himself."

Schmidt shook his head. "No. Just like I said; this is the first I hear of it."

The SS-major pressed his lips into a thin line and turned towards Fuhrmann, his glance asking, but also threatening. But as the older man also shook his head, Hartmann took a deep breath and cursed. This would mean more delay.

He looked up to the church tower as the church bell rang 11 o'clock, and calming his temper, he said, "Okay, then I have to work with what I get. How are the roads to the camp?"

Schmidt shrugged. "I have no idea. My men and every available citizen is a little busy at the moment." He nodded towards the injured men, who were more or less treated with medical help or soup, and not only nurses were to be seen, but also many citizens.

"Then call the camp! Klink should start with the preparations for the evacuation so that…"

Schmidt didn't let him finish, but addressed Fuhrmann. "Have the telephone lines been repaired?"

"It was half an hour ago in HQ. At this time, no telephone is usable – not within the town and therefore certainly not overland."

Horst nodded and glanced back at Hartmann. "Sorry, Major, but there is no way to reach the camp via phone."

"Then send men out to check it in person!"

Hartmann was about to explode and gritted his teeth, as Schmidt snarled, "Just look around you, man. Does this whole scenery look to you as if I could spare one single man? The town was attacked, we have casualties among the citizens and the retreating German troops! There were fires, destroyed streets – hell, even the firefighters have problems, not to speak of the medical staff and our own attempt to keep something close to order within the town. And you really ask me to send out a few men to check the roads to a POW camp that is known as one of the toughest ones in Germany? Are you mad?"

Hartmann took a deep breath and straightened his shape. "No, I'm not mad, I have my orders. From the REICHSFÜHRER. Stalag 13 has to be evacuated by this evening, and if you don't support me, I'll report you and make certain that there are charges pressed against you for betrayal!"

"Betrayal – because I support hundreds of soldiers, who have to be treated on orders of the Führer? Who is in charge of Germany? Hitler or Himmler?" He knew that he was treading on thin ice, but he didn't care.

Hartmann closed the distance to him, close enough to let his breath wash over the Oberleutnant's face. "You have your orders, Schmidt, and I don't care for the simple needs of a little town."

"I haven't gotten any orders, Herr Major, and will not abandon my duty towards these people until I get these orders in person! I even think this is a primitive attempt of you to get payback on me because I didn't allow you to mistreat the POWs in your charge any longer than necessary," Horst hissed. Oh yes, he was about to get into very deep water – a boiling pot of water, but he didn't care. Any hour he could buy for the US general to reach Stalag 13 was an hour more of safety for Hilda, Little Manfred, the Schneiders, Hogan, Klink, and all the others. He had given his word, and he would keep it no matter what.

Hartmann stared with pure hate at him. "You mean a payback because you exaggerated your so-called 'area of responsibility' – because the town sign of Hammelburg was far away from the place you took over command and referring to your own range of influence as the town's leading SS-officer!"

Schmidt gave him a cold smile. "That the original town borders don't apply anymore within the times of war is something you certainly heard of before, Herr Major." His eyes became hard. "The moment I get the order to support you, you get it fully. Until then, I do my duty here – obeying my original instructions for this town and for those men." He pointed at the mixed bunch of soldiers coming from all units.

Hartmann took a deep breath. "As you wish."

TBC…

Yes, Schmidt tries to stall time as much as possible to give Butler the chance to reach the camp just in time. He's playing a dangerous game, especially now after Hartmann returned.

I also loved the thought that Klink would surrender Stalag 13 to Hogan; killing two birds with one stone like this. A) He knows that his men will be treated fair under Hogan's command and B) the camp is already under US-control and therefore no battle will take place when Butler arrives. Yet it was a big step for both colonels, no doubt here. I hope, you liked the idea.

In the next chapter, the moment arrives Hogan and his men (and follow POWs) have waited for since being captured. More I don't want to tell you.

I really hope the new chapter pleased you and, like always, I'm curious to get your feedback.

Love

Yours Starflight