Hi, my dear Readers,
Finally the next chapter is up. Yes, I know you all wait for the big moment and it will begin within the last part: The liberation of Stalag 13. I hope that I captured this special moment to your liking – I had a lot of fun to write and to edit it.
Thank you so much for the feedback. I'm baffled over and over again that so many readers are still loyal to the story that has become so long.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 101 – The liberation, part 1
The mood in Stalag 13 was the most odd and depressive one for a long time. The guards had listened in rising horror to Klink's explications of what happened to their Jewish country fellows – and not only to the German ones, but also to all of them within the conquered parts of Europe. Klink didn't sugar-coat anything. He told them the blunt truth, seeing some younger guards even vomiting, while older ones simply shook their heads in denial, but finally forced to recognize their commanding officer's words for what they were: The brutal truth.
Last but not least, because of Grünberg and Rosenkranz, who had left the gathering in the middle of the camp as they heard from afar the name 'Auschwitz' voiced by Oberst Klink. They listened to his explanations, watched the guards' reactions, and finally were spotted by the Kommandant, who waved them over. Hesitantly, they obeyed.
Most of the guards, even Langenscheidt, stood there with open mouths and stared disbelievingly at Klink as he told them about the two men's real identities – that Hogan had hid them with Klink's knowledge and full agreement. And, what took them by even more surprise all, the Oberst was proud of it. There was no fear in his eyes, on his face, or in his voice as he admitted something that was regarded as a crime in the Third Reich. The stuttering coward the older men had come to know over the years was gone and replaced with a strong man in his middle age and knew exactly what he was doing and stood up for it. If the men agreed with his decision or not was unimportant at the moment. What really was important was the fact that they felt even more respect for their superior than they developed within the last three months. This was a man they could follow.
Grünberg and Rosenkranz first told them quietly, then more strongly about their personal fate – of their arrest, being separated from their families, how they had watched two of their children and Frau Grünberg be taken to shower rooms where a short time later screams and desperate shouts were heard, knowing they couldn't do anything to save them. How they were then the following morning brought away as 'workers' to build a secret air fighter facility in the east of Bavaria, and finally the arrival of Hochstetter and what came afterwards.
It was after twelve o'clock when Klink finally called the gathering off, but not without one last word. "I know that this is a lot to stomach – there are certainly a few among you, who don't believe this and still want to stay true to the Führer. I don't judge you because of it, and I don't hold any grudges against you. So, who still feels that his loyalty stays with the regime, please lift your hand. You have my personal promise that no disadvantage will rise from it and that you don't have to fear any punishment from my side."
To his surprise, only fourteen lifted their hands; straightening their shapes. It was mainly the younger men. They had grown up under Hitler's regime and didn't know anything else than the way things were in Germany for over ten years now.
Klink took a deep breath. "Thank you for your honesty. Please hand over your weapons to your comrades and step aside."
"You told us that…" One young man began to protest, and Klink lifted a hand.
"I know, and I will keep my promise. But you have to understand that I can't take the risk that you will stab us in the back when it comes to the worst. Therefore, I have to put you under arrest in the cooler." He rose his voice as protests became louder. "You will be supplied with everything you need, there will be no reprisals against you from my side, and you don't have to fear any mistreatment. You will stay in the cooler 'til the US troops arrive, and I will lay in a good word for you. I'm sure Colonel Hogan will do the same."
He watched as the other guards took away fourteen rifles and other weapons, then took their comrades between them to hinder any attempt of flight. "I'm sure you want to write to your families. I'll provide you with paper and pens, and the letters will be sent away after they have been checked through and approved of by the new commanding officer. More I can't do for you." He glanced up at Schultz, who only smiled, then the fourteen men were led away.
Langenscheidt closed the distance to him and the two Jewish Germans, whom he greeted with a rueful nod. "This was difficult for your, sir," he addressed Klink quietly.
Wilhelm sighed. "I'm not happy about it, believe me, but this was the best way." He heard quick steps nearing and looked to his left. Hogan headed towards him; his face was serious, yet in his eyes shone sympathy.
"A well speech, Will," he murmured, after he reached him.
"The most hardest one I ever gave," the older man admitted. "What about your meeting?"
"The guys are hilarious with joy that they will be free in a few hours. I had to make it clear that the guards are off limits for any harsh pranks or silly paybacks, and I also revealed my true identity and that you, Schultz, and Langenscheidt are part of the big plan. Guess it shocked a lot of them, while others only grinned; already knowing more than I was aware of." He sighed and glanced at the pale, unsure, and partly still shocked guards. "What about them?"
Klink took a deep breath. "I told them about Auschwitz to make it clear how our regime really ticks." He gave the two Jews a rueful smile. "And thanks to Herr Grünberg and Herr Rosenkranz, the men got a true insight of what happened and still happens in the concentration camps. Except for fourteen, it was enough to open their eyes. The said fourteen are being brought to the cooler."
Kinchloe came nearer. "Colonel," he addressed Hogan, after he tipped his temple in a casual salute towards Klink. "I think we should allocate our men with those of Colonel Klink so that a quick switch of places can be done when necessary."
Hogan nodded. "I agree." He gave Wilhelm an encouraging smirk. "Ready for another big act of theatre?"
Wilhelm grimaced. "You're in charge now, Kommandant Hogan, so…"
Robert lifted both hands. "Stop, Will; we two are in charge. We're comrades in arm, equals in responsibility, and friends in private. We do this together – like so many other things before." He winked at him and felt relieved as he saw a true smile appearing in the older man's eyes. Klink and his pride – it was one of his weaknesses Hogan somehow adored. Then he frowned and turned towards Kinch. "Any news from Butler?"
James shook his head. "Not so far I know of. Little Red Riding Hood is manning the radio, but I'm sure she would have given word if she got a message."
Rob rubbed his jaw. "Yet I think it's about time for Schnitzer to get out of camp and prepare for an interception of our boys."
Kinch looked at him with big eyes. "Colonel, Schnitzer and his niece, together with Bella, already left two hours ago."
Hogan and Klink stared at him. "And why do I only learn about this now?" Robert asked, almost reproachfully.
"Colonel, Schnitzer's van has disappeared for two hours now, LeBeau is complaining of Bella being put into danger, and our dear Charly here looks so nervous because he likes the young lady, so I thought you'd realized that…" He stopped as he saw the disbelieving face Hogan was making. Sighing, he added, "I know you were a little busy within the last two hours, but usually such things never slip your attention."
Hogan groaned as he heard Klink snicker, "You're ready for a vacation, as it seems."
*** HH *** HH ***
"I'm really overdue for a vacation – or I'm simply too old for this craziness despite the fact that I'm only 29. This. Is. Nonsense!" Horst Schmidt closed the door of his staff car with a loud bang, gave a smiling Hartmann a last loathing gaze, and started the motor; ignoring the Untergruppenführer (corporal) of Hartmann's troop beside him in the passenger seat.
Of course Hartmann had some printed orders with him and of course they were the exact orders the messenger from Bad Kissingen had brought Schmidt the evening prior. Therefore, Horst had no other choice than to 'play along' – with a lot of fuss to stall time. He made a big show that it was impossible to select men who would check the roads and paths between the town and camp. "I can't spare one single man here," he said. "Look around; every hand is needed here!"
"Yes, and with two SS-officers, one can be spared to do the job. You, for example." Hartmann snarled. "And Untergruppenführer Kröger will accompany you," Hartmann added. Of course, the clever bastard didn't trust Schmidt; something Horst wouldn't mind if the whole next few hours wouldn't depend on him delaying the evacuation of Stalag 13.
Facing a dead end, he finally stepped into his car, Kröger beside him. The way out of Hammelburg proved to be difficult because of the many retreating soldiers headed into town. Usually Schmidt would have taken the Old Saale Bridge, turned south, and headed down the main road, but given the hundreds of tired and injured men trampling along the way, it was impossible to move a car through them.
Unfortunately, Kröger used the chance to ask some of the men if the road was useable, and – to Schmidt's relief – the men told him that they had to trample through the forests before they could use the street again, which was damaged on a length of more than seven km. In other words, to let POWs walk through the woods would mean that more than half of them would make an attempt to flight, and – given the circumstances – successfully.
So the two men began to check forest paths and small field streets. Finally they found a path of supply that led uncomfortably close to camp. Kröger, who had a map of the area with him, grinned as he finally had view of the wires.
"There we have our way," he said, with glee, and Schmidt's hand tightened around the wheel. He saw Klink's men in the watch towers, Luftwaffe members patrolling the compound, and POWs playing some kind of sports game. The whole camp looked at peace.
So the US general hadn't arrived yet. The cavalry was still on its way – and would come too late if Hartmann learned of this possibility to transfer the prisoners.
Horst faked a sigh of relief and steered the car towards the main gates. The Untergruppenführer frowned. "What are you doing?" He asked.
"Oberst Klink didn't get the orders and has no clue that the camp has to be evacuated. He is going to need some time for preparations, and it's up to me to inform him." He stopped the car in front of the gates and saw Schultz heading towards him. Winding down the window, he looked at the large Bavarian, who came to a halt beside the car.
"Oberleutnant Schmidt, a pleasure to see you," Hans said, recognizing the grey uniform with the black collar the younger man beside Schmidt wore. This was not good and could mean only one thing: the SS-troop that was to transfer the POWs to another camp had arrived.
"Good day, Sergeant Schultz," Horst returned the greeting, looking very seriously at the sergeant of the guards. "I need to speak with Oberst Klink." He nodded towards his companion. "This is Untergruppenführer Kröger from the Totenkopf-SS, commanded by Major Hartmann." He introduced his companion, parallel giving a warning by mentioning the major's name.
Schultz was not the brightest mind, but he knew exactly what was going on. "The Herr Oberst is in the Kommandantur." He gave the guards a signal to open the gates again. "Just enter, Herr Oberleutnant. You know the way."
"Thank you," Schmidt smiled, started the car again, and steered it to the separate building to his left. Everything looked perfectly normal, yet he felt with a sixth sense that something was not all right.
Leaving the car, he signaled Kröger to accompany him. Entering the Kommandantur, he realized that Hilda wasn't there. Of course, she was with Little Manfred and her parents down in the tunnels.
Knocking on the office door, he stepped in the moment Klink called, "Come in!"
Removing his cap, he gave the older man a proper salute before he recognized Hogan at the dresser near the opposite wall. "Oberst Klink, Colonel Hogan," he greeted, earning him a sharp intake of breath from his companion. It was absolutely unusual to greet a POW, even if he outranked someone.
"Oberleutnant Schmidt," Klink nodded, folding his hands on the surface of his desk. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm here…"
He didn't get any further, as Kröger stepped around him, offered Klink a polite salute, and said, "I'm Untergruppenführer Kröger and act in direct order of SS-Major Hartmann. The Oberleutnant and I are here to inform you that this camp will be evacuated today." He closed the distance to the desk and placed the papers with the orders in front of Klink. "Here are the orders and the paper of authority that the Totenkopf-SS is taking over with immediate effect."
Will didn't spare the papers even the tiniest glance. "Is that so?" He asked calmly.
The man clicked his heels. "Yes, Herr Oberst. I regret to tell you that your post as Kommandant of Stalag 13 is cancelled and…"
"Sorry, young man, but why don't you tell the real Kommandant?"
Kröger faltered for a moment. "The…real Kommandant?" He repeated, confused. "But that's you."
Will shook his head with an almost gleeful smile. "No, I'm not."
The Untergruppenführer frowned. "Who is it, then?"
"Why don't you turn around?" Klink asked, enjoying the moment.
Still bemused, the younger man did as told and looked straight into the muzzle of a pistol the American officer he had ignored until now pointed at him. "What's…the meaning of this?" Kröger gasped, fingering for his own weapon. Schmidt's hand shot forwards and clasped around the SS-man's wrist with an iron grip.
"You have three guesses," Horst said, far too kindly for the given situation.
Kröger's eyes were about to pop out of his head. "This is…treason!"
"Call it whatever you like, but the truth is that this camp is no longer under the command of any German officer, independent of Wehrmacht or SS," Klink said, his own pistol in hand now. He met Schmidt's asking glance and explained. "I surrendered Stalag 13 to Colonel Hogan this morning. He is in charge now."
"Will," Robert sighed.
"Yes, yes, I know. He insists that I'm in charge, too. In other words, Stalag 13 has two Kommandanten," Wilhelm added, rolling his eyes.
Schmidt chuckled. "Well, what's new here?" He teased.
At the same moment, the door opened, and Schultz stepped in; Langenscheidt and another guard in tow. All three had their rifles ready, but relaxed as they took in the scene in front of them. "Oh, you already have everything under control," the Bavarian said, with some relief.
"Of course," Klink nodded. "Schultz, be so nice and accompany the young gentleman of the SS to the other blind ones to the cooler." He stretched out his free hand, palm turned towards the roof. "Your weapon, please. For you, the war is over."
Kröger pressed his lips into a thin line while his eyes darted back and forth.
"Please make no attempt of playing the hero," Hogan said in perfect German. "I would hate to be forced to shoot. The war is over for you; not your life."
A bitter smile appeared on the SS-man's face. "Don't tell me your comrades are going to spare me," he sneered, while surrendering his pistol to Schmidt.
Hogan cocked his head. "They will. There is no reason to send you to the gallows – at least I'm not aware of any crimes you have done so far."
Kröger only glared at him, and Robert knew that he was facing a true Nazi. Well, the Allies would deal with the man later. For now, there were more important things to do. Nodding at Schultz, the large Bavarian took Kröger's upper arm in an iron grip and led him out of the office accompanied by Langenscheidt and the other guard. The Untergruppenführer's threat "You're going to regret this!" was cut off by the closing door.
Schmidt sighed, rubbed his face with one hand, and glanced at the two colonels. "So, you surrendered Stalag 13?" He asked Klink, who made an affirming gesture. "And your guards are playing along?"
"Except for fourteen, who are blinded by the Führer's insanity, yes," Will confirmed. "They're in the cooler. The other guards, Schultz, and Langenscheidt are still on duty as pretend, ready to switch places with Robert's men as soon as a certain signal is given."
Snorting half amused, half in disbelief, Horst looked at Hogan. "So, you're finally even officially in charge of the camp."
"Hey, we both were more or less in charge together for quite some time now," Wilhelm protested, but there was a certain spark in his eyes that spoke of his amusement.
Hogan snickered and put his gun away, turning serious again instantly. "Schmidt, how many of those SS-rats came to Hammelburg? Is Hartmann really in command of them?"
Horst nodded with a grimace. "Yes, it's the big bastard who came almost three hours ago and demanded that you all were brought to the Hammelburg station. I stalled time by pretending to have never received any orders concerning the evacuation and made a big fuss to find a passable way between the camp and town, leading the Untergruppenführer and me to here in the end." His gaze was fixed on the American officer. "Hogan, how far away is your general? I don't think I can delay the whole thing for much longer. Fuhrmann is stalling time by faking problems to clear the main street from all the refugees that arrived last night, but he can't do this for hours."
Robert cocked his head; more interested in another topic Horst mentioned. "Fleeing German soldiers?"
Schmidt took a deep breath. "Yes, a ragtag bunch of all units you can think of except for members of the Navy. Luftwaffe pilots, Heer members, Waffen-SS, Totenkopf-SS, Volkssturm…" He shrugged. "Hundreds of them – and they're all injured; some sincere, some less grave." He bit his lips. "And I'm pretty sure that those guys I saw coming as Kröger and I left town belong to a demolition squad. They were dirty and had wounds, but they carried boxes with them and were led by a firm lieutenant inspecting the Old Saale Bridge. I don't like this."
"Me too," Hogan mumbled. Almost all bridges across the Rhine River had fallen prey to those demolition squads and had stopped the progress of the Allies for many days until they were able to build interim bridges. The same was done at almost every river, especially around towns and villages. If these guys were indeed members of a demolition squad and destroyed the most important bridge between here and Hammelburg, it would mean that there would be an artillery attack against the town – something Hogan wanted to prevent at all costs. And there was more at stake – Schmidt's safety and even life.
"You can't return to Hammelburg," he said quietly.
"I beg your pardon?" Host looked thunderstruck at him. "I have to. Can you imagine what…"
"I can imagine what Hartmann is going to think and do when you turn up from your inspection without Kröger," Rob interrupted him. "He's going to arrest you immediately and shoot you for treason, because the whole fuss you made earlier to delay the evacuation spoke its own volume already."
Schmidt groaned and stemmed his fists on his hips. "Dammit! I can't let Fuhrmann handle everything alone. He already risked so much, and I…"
"You have no other choice," Hogan said firmly. "Hartmann suspected you the moment you showed kindness to Connor and the others and even helped them by ordering trucks to pick them up. I saw the way he glared at you the whole time you guys were here in Stalag 13. He holds grudges against you – and us here, because Colonel Klink showed him his place and snubbed him. Believe me, when you return without Kröger, he has a reason to act against you."
"You're safer here, really," Klink nodded, coming around the desk and lying a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I know you want to return to help the citizens and smooth the chaos that certainly has taken place within Hammelburg, but please consider that you also have a responsibility towards a certain young lady and sweet little imp here. You're needed, Horst."
"It will stall more time when you don't return within the next two or three hours," Hogan added. "Then our boys will be here, and you'll be safe."
"And all the women and children in Hammelburg? What about the refugees?" Schmidt asked.
"As far as I know, General Butler wants the town to surrender. Given the whole situation, I'm sure the town council will see that there is no other option possible and will give in. Then the town is safe, too."
Horst bit his lips. His duty demanded his return now. His mind (and heart) told him that Hogan was right. He would risk his neck going back to the town before the US boys had arrived.
Klink clapped his shoulder. "Come on; the weather outside is fine and for once a little warm. Hilda is in my quarters and brewed something that smells like tea. We'll all take a little late lunch and wait for the big general to show his face. It's the best we can do right now." Even Hogan was surprised by how cheery Klink sounded.
*** HH *** HH ***
The time range between the given order to stop the convoy and said order was obeyed would hold a new record. Tanks, jeeps, trucks – they all came to a halt within a short time, while a few dozen GI's left the vehicles and pointed their rifles at what had stopped them: A small truck, an older man, a young woman, and a German sheepdog that wagged his tail and looked almost kindly at them.
"Still stehen, und kein Bewegung! (Stand still, and no movement!)" One of the officers ordered in a not too fluent German.
The older man sighed, exchanged a short glance with the young woman at his side, and answered in plain English. "General Butler's cavalry, I assume? My name is Oscar Schnitzer. I think Colonel Hogan already informed you that I would intercept you to show you a way through the woods to Stalag 13."
Alexander Butler, who sat in one of the jeeps in the front, rose from his seat and braced himself on the windshield of the open car. "Mr. Schnitzer?"
The older man nodded. "That's me. And this is my niece, Heidi." The young woman smiled at the general, who replied with a polite, "Miss." Then Butler glanced back at Schnitzer. The description Hogan had given him of the man fitted very well. A stout man with a face that spoke of a lot of frustration, bright eyes, wearing a checkered jacket, a dark blue cap, and a worn dress shirt. Yet he had to be certain. "Mr. Schnitzer, as far as I know, you have a lot of contacts with the inhabitants of Stalag 13. Do you know what day some of the POWs will celebrate in tomorrow?"
Schnitzer frowned. "This would be the 7th of April, so…" His frown deepened, only to be smoothed away as he began to grin. "Yes, of course. Colonel Hogan's birthday."
Butler nodded with the hint of a smile. There was no doubt that this gentleman was really the man he claimed to be. Leaving his jeep, the general walked towards the two German people, gave the young woman a galante hand-kiss, and Schnitzer a proper handshake. "I think you know a hidden way to Stalag 13."
"You mean a way you haven't destroyed yesterday?" The veterinarian grumbled. "And I really don't know why you want to arrive at camp in secret. It's useless with those vehicles in tow." He pointed at the tanks.
Butler chuckled, recognizing the bland humor the older man possessed. "They will stay behind. I only want to check the camp before we march in."
Schnitzer nodded. "Understandable. I heard that the Totenkopf-SS wants to take over Stalag 13, and it's not easy to deal with those guys." He turned and waved at the general as if he was a buddy from a garden party. "Come on then; I'll show you a way only foxes and deer know."
"And you," Butler deadpanned, which earned him a soft laughter of the young woman, an amused grimace from Schnitzer, and even a cheerful 'woof' from the dog.
*** HH *** HH ***
Schmidt sat in a chair on the porch of Klink's quarters. Usually he would have enjoyed the first warm rays the early spring sun was sending down on North Bavaria, but his thoughts were elsewhere – in Hammelburg. He hoped that Fuhrmann didn't face too much trouble with Hartmann or that the major became inpatient enough to seek for him, Schmidt, and Kröger in person.
Beside him sat Klink, Hogan, and Connor. The two American officers had brought the side table out onto the porch, where a pot with tea and four cups stood. They had a small lunch half an hour before, and Hilda and her mother were busy doing the dishes. Of course, Klink and Hogan had offered to send over some of the men to do the job, but the two women insisted of helping as a 'thank you' for the asylum they, Herr Schneider, and Little Manfred had gotten in camp.
Schultz was patrolling along the fence, and everything looked like usual, yet the mood in the camp was odd, to put it mildly. The German guards were nervous and anxious, the POWs were bristling with expectation and joy they were barely able to hide.
None of the four men on the porch missed the tensed atmosphere, yet – being leaders – they appeared calm and relaxed.
General Alexander Butler couldn't help but feel baffled, as he, three GIs, and Lieutenant Norton, his current translator, looked through their spy glasses at the peaceful scene in front of them. Everything spoke of a calm POW camp without any unusual events, yet alone the view of the four men on the small porch at the separate little building to their right made it clear that nothing was common here.
"I recognize the uniform of a colonel and a Lt. Colonel from us, as well as a German Luftwaffe officer and a guy from the SS," Norton murmured.
They all lay or cowered in the bushes, their two jeeps and Schnitzer's van parked not far behind them covered by branches. The almost destroyed main street to camp wouldn't be a hinder for the tanks, but the jeeps had to drive very carefully. Schnitzer had shown them a way from the south of camp through the woods, using a path hunters and rangers usually used. The tanks waited not too far away with turned off engines and hundreds of GIs watching out for enemies.
Butler smiled as he adjusted the spyglass to his eyes and his gaze found the familiar face of a certain troublemaker, who sat among the others on the porch. Legs stretched out, hands folded over his belly, face relaxed, crush cap pushed back into the neck. Robert Hogan looked like he was taking a nice break with some colleagues at a US base in the afternoon; not as if he was the highest ranking POW officer in a Stalag in the middle of Nazi Germany.
Butler's attention was driven to the younger American beside his protegee, and he knew that it had to be Lt. Col. Connor. Beside him sat a young man in the black SS-uniform that showed that he belonged to the inner executive forces of Germany. On Hogan's right side was a man in his middle ages, wearing a grey officer coat and cap. He didn't need to think about the badges of rank he couldn't clearly see. The single glass over the man's left eye told him that this had to be Hogan's special friend and ally Colonel Klink.
The four men were chatting, and Alex even watched how the SS-man said something that made both Americans laugh, while the German officer threw his hands up before laughing himself.
"I don't believe it," one of the GIs beside Butler said. "You'd think they were at an afternoon tea."
"Any suspecting matters in the area?" The general whispered, and the man shook his head.
"No, sir. Everything seems to be quiet and calm – except for those four over there having a good time."
Butler grinned inwardly. This was so Hogan, and… And he saw how Robert suddenly grew stiff and looked straight into their direction. Alex had to smile.
*** HH ***
Hogan listened to the short story Schmidt was telling them from his time at school. As it seemed, the brave and 'innocent' young man was in truth a sly dog, and Robert and Connor had to laugh at the prank young Horst had played on his teacher. Klink quickly joined their mirth and chuckled to himself, remembering the times he had been at school. Because of the fact that he never really fitted into the class (last but not least because of his Saxonian heritage and dialect), he had as good as never participated within any pranks, but loved to hear stories about these 'activities'.
There was suddenly a sparkling light on the other side of the wires – not in front of them, but in the bushes behind the road that led down the small hill into camp. And Hogan, always at attention – especially given in a situation like this one – caught it instantly.
Someone was watching them with a spyglass. Someone was hiding in the undergrows, and there were only two options: SS or the cavalry had arrived. They hadn't heard anything from Schnitzer so far, but that was no wonder. Of course the SS or Gestapo would listen to any radio transmission around the town, and the risk that Schnitzer would be intercepted by them was big.
So who cowered in the bushes only 50 meters away: Friend or enemy? The answer came all of sudden – and not recognizable for anyone beside Hogan. The low crow of a little owl. An owl that screeched during the day? Never.
But Robert knew this sound. He knew it since he and his brothers had been children, and he knew it from a short vacation before the war started, as he, his brother, and his father had been on a camping trip together with someone who had become crucial for Robert's adult life: Alexander Butler.
Robert couldn't help it. His heart beat in his throat for a moment before it seemed to gallop in double speed. Pure joy spread through his entire being and made hope explode in his soul like a burst of sun rays breaking through dark clouds. Without his own doing, he all but jumped from the chair and stared out into the woods, praying that he wasn't mistaken.
The owl's scream sounded anew, this time three times, and a smile so big it had to hurt spread over Robert's face. Against his will, he felt tears springing to his eyes that he hastily blinked away. Finally! The moment he had yearned for was happening.
"Rob?" Wilhelm asked, with some confusion at the sudden outburst of his beloved. Connor and Schmidt also looked rather thunderstruck at him.
"Colonel, what is it?" Horst asked curiously, and looked to the woods on the other side of the wires.
"KIIIIINCHHH!" Robert shouted square over the compound, not caring that he was grinning like mad.
"What's going on?" Klink asked, and rose exactly like the other men.
Kinch jogged over to them, eyes big. "Colonel, what's the matter?" He asked, a little bit out of breath as he stopped a few meters away from the porch. The rest of the Heroes were running towards Klink's quarters, too, while Schultz stopped in his pacing and looked alarmed into their direction.
Hogan was certain that his cheeks had split in two, so wild he was smiling. He took a deep breath and spoke the words he had longed for since the day he stepped into the camp (despite his love for Will). "Kinch, get down the flags with the damn Hakenkreuz, and RISE OUR COLORS!"
James stared for two seconds at him, then his eyes widened. "They're here?" He gasped, and as his friend and superior only nodded with the largest grin he had ever seen on the man's face, he whooped, whirled around, and ran towards the others, not doubting Hogan's words for a moment.
"They're coming!" Kinch yelled over the compound, making the others stop first in confusion, but they began to yell in joy as they learned who was coming.
Klink stepped closer to Hogan. "You're sure that their your boys?" He asked softly.
Robert nodded, his gaze fixed on the woods. "Yes," he breathed.
*** HH ***
"What the hell is going on over there?" Norton whispered, and let he spyglass sink before he looked askingly at his superior.
Butler still looked through his own spyglass and pursed his lips. "Ro…I mean Colonel Hogan recognized my signal. They know that we're coming, and…" He stopped and gasped. "What the hell?!"
Norton rose the glass again in front of his eyes, and, flabbergasted, he watched how everywhere – on the watch towers and on the roof of the Kommandantur – the red flags with the white large spot and the dreaded and cursed black cross-like sign were lowered. Then both officers saw a rather small man with dark hair climbing on the roof of the separate house, together with another slender male, and Butler took in a sharp breath as he saw the red and white stripes and the hint of blue and white in the mass of the material both men were unfolding. And that was not all. Disbelievingly, the men in the bushes could only stare at the next changes.
*** HH ***
Kinch stopped in front of Schultz and saluted properly. "Sergeant Schultz, I'll take over command of our guards," he said formally.
Hans returned the military greeting and handed Kinch his rifle. "Herewith I retreat from my post as Sergeant of the Guards and devolve the responsibility to you, Sergeant Kinchloe." For good measurement, he clapped the American's shoulder. "I'm glad that it's over and that it will be you who is in charge now. You're a good boy, Kinch." For the first time ever, he called James by the nickname the Heroes had given him for more than three years now.
Kinch beamed at him. "Thanks, Schultzie. You weren't so bad as our guard." He winked at him, which made the Bavarian chuckle before both turned towards the guards in the watch towers and along the wires.
"Meine Herren, übergeben Sie ihre Waffen! (Gentlemen, handover your weapons!)" Schultz boomed.
POWs had closed the distance to the guards, exchanged military salutes, and took over the rifles the German soldiers gave them. The same happened in the watch towers, in which a few other POWs climbed and relieved them from duty.
"AAAAACHTUNG!" Schultz shouted, while Klink headed towards him, riding crop clamped beneath his arm, stance proud and straight. "BUIIIIILD FORMATION!" Hans ordered, and the members of the Luftwaffe came running from everywhere to build a dozen rows of lines – hands at their sides, bodies rigid, gaze straight forwards. In the meantime, American, English and Serbian POWs occupied the vacated spots along the wires and in the watch towers. The whole procedure needed a few minutes – minutes in which the other POWs made themselves ready to greet the 'cavalry'.
Hilda appeared on the porch and looked at Horst. "The US boys are coming?" She asked, trying to suppress her excitement.
Schmidt nodded and went to her, uncertain what his own future would hold. "Yes," he mumbled and vanished with her into the shadow of the porch. "Whatever will happen to me, just remember that I love you," he whispered, wrapped both arms around her, and kissed her. He felt her slender arms moving around him, and for a long moment, there was only them. Then the door opened again, and someone cleared his throat. Looking up, Schmidt's gaze fell on the stout shape of Burkhalter, who stood there – clad in his uniform, sans his military coat and cap.
"So, the great moment has arrived," Albert murmured.
The young couple in front of him smiled in sympathy for him. "Don't fear, General," Hilda said softly. "Colonel Hogan will put in good words for you – and I'll do the same."
Burkhalter smiled sadly. "Thank you, my dear. But even if you're a lovely young lady and has done nothing that will make you face a trial, I'm sure the Americans won't exactly listen to you."
A subtle smirk appeared for a second on Hilda's face. "Just wait and see." She felt Horst's asking glance resting on her, but ignored it for once. Behind the general her parents appeared, Frau Schneider carrying Little Manfred.
"This is the hour of decision," Hilda's mother said quietly.
Her daughter only gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't fear, Mama; everything will turn out just fine."
"Your words in God's ears," her father whispered.
In the compound, Langenscheidt reported something to Schultz, who nodded, stepped to Klink, and saluted.
"Overhanding finished, Herr Oberst. All men are present except for those in the cooler."
"Thank you, Sergeant," Wilhelm replied, but before he could say more, engine noises drew nearer – the sounds of strong motors, and there was no doubt what produced them: Tanks.
"Thank you for being there for me, Schultz – not only as my Sergeant of the Guards, but also for having my back," Will said softly. "And for being my friend."
Hans gave him a sentimental chuckle. "A pleasure, Herr Oberst. It was a honor to serve under you."
The two men exchanged a glance before they drove their attention to the road that led down to the camp. Their gaze found Hogan, who stood only a few meters away, hands on his hips, body tensed. Connor and Harrison stood a few meters away from him.
"I think he can barely await their arrival anymore," Schultz murmured.
"Understandable. Even if he found friends here and we grew very close to each other, he was a captive. To be free again, not to hide his true missions anymore, and no longer threatened to be revealed and shot must be like balm for him." Klink's gaze found the Heroes nearby. "And for them, too."
Carter and LeBeau gave high-fives to Newkirk and Olsen, laughing like boys. Will's glance went from them to the roof of the Kommandantur, sighing at the sight he once would have dreaded to see, but now it not only woke relief, but even something close to happiness in him. There, in the first warm wind of spring, waved the Stars and Stripes.
TBC…
Yeah, I know, every American certainly gets some fluffy feelings now. Hell, even I – as a German – got all teary eyes as I was last time in New York six years ago, saw the flag waving and Miss Liberty not far away, while Celine Dion sang 'God bless America'. One of the servicemen on our water-taxi asked if I was okay, because I sniffled like a little child. I said, I was so touched and he promptly asked me, where I'm from. He only grinned as I told him that I'm from Germany and teased me that we Germans are really 'little sissies' – but he winked at me. Laugh, it was heart-warming, really.
Afterwards I wrote the last part of this chapter anew, because I so could imagine the Stars and Stripes waving over the Kommandantur, while Hogan stays inside of the camp in front of the doors and expects his comrades entering to liberate the camp. I hope, I captured the moment for you.
You maybe are surprised that Schnitzer showed Butler a hidden way. I read in published journals concerning the second and this time successful liberation of the real Stalag 13 that the US division neared the camp in secret by using wood paths and supply streets – and that a few German civilians showed them the way. So I came up with the idea that Schnitzer – who knows the area like his own waistcoat pocket – is the one who leads Butler to the camp…
In the next chapter, the big re-union is happening. And then Butler will face surprises, surprises, surprises… Because, lets face it, Hogan and his gang are very special. But Butler won't be the only one who will be thunderstruck. Hilda has her own secret and will make the wonder happen that even Hogan is speechless for once.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm more than curious what you think about it.
Have a nice rest of the week,
Love
Yours Starflight
