Hi my dear readers,
I wanted to poste the new chapter already during the week, but we've massive web-problems in our town, because the new lines for the 'quick web' are installed everywhere and this disturbs the function of our whole communication-system massively. Krrr, it's really troublesome.
But since yesterday evening the web is available for more than a few minutes here and there, and so I can finally publish the next chapter.
It's the second part of the camp's liberation, and I hope you're going to enjoy it.
Have fun
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 102 – The liberation, part 2
Wood splintered and mud splashed up as one of the tanks rolled along the road down to the camp's main entrance, breaking its way through the bushes beside the street. Jeeps and trucks accompanied it; GIs sat on loading beds or in cars, rifles ready. And as two jeeps drove side by side, in one of them sat a man in a US general's uniform and wearing a steel helmet like the others.
Hogan couldn't help it; he grinned like mad even if protocol demanded a more professional manner. His and Butler's look locked over the rapidly closing distance, and Robert shouted the words he had longed to voice. "OPEN THE GATES!"
He thought even the air suddenly smelled different as a few of the (former) POWs did like ordered. He knew that this was only a silly imagination, but for the moment, everything seemed to be brightener and cleaner – sunlight, air, wind…
General Butler's eyes hung on the shape fifty meters away. The last time he had seen his protegee had been the morning before Hogan started with his squadron on an attack against Hamburg, taking full risk to get captured to start his true mission "Unsung Heroes". That had been more than three years ago. Since then the only contact had been via radio or other forms of messages.
Inwardly, he had loathed sending Robert to Nazi Germany with such a suicidal task. Hell, he had tried to stop the whole thing, but Robert Edward Hogan was a true daredevil, optimally trained for such a mission, and highly intelligent. In the end, he had to give his okay within the generals' staff to choose the newly promoted colonel, praying that he hadn't signed Robert's death sentence.
A few times it had looked as if Robert would be revealed or fall prey during operations, but as always, the relieving news had reached Butler that his 'chosen son' was well. And now he stood there – alive and healthy.
Alexander threw a wary gaze towards the lined-up German guards, then up to the watch towers, where American, English, and Serbian soldiers waved at him and the others.
Two GIs were instantly at his side as he walked towards the wide-open gates, his adjutant Lally and translator Norton accompanying him. Even older, experienced, and well trained, he couldn't prevent his heartbeat from rising.
Hogan smiled as he saw his mentor and fatherly friend for the first time since he left the US base in Florida. He seemed to have aged more than necessary with a lot of silver in his hair, but it was no wonder. War changed people, and those with big responsibilities paid double. Taking a deep breath, Hogan snapped to attention and properly saluted as Butler reached him.
"Colonel Robert Edward Hogan, former commanding officer of Bomber Squadron 504 reports all clear, sir. The camp is under my command since this morning, my men and I are well cared for so far, and no resistance from the guards or German officers during the surrender of Stalag 13. Let me add, General, that we all are more than happy that you made it in time to the camp. An SS-troop is ready to transfer us, but now they won't dare do anything."
Butler returned the salute. "Well done, Colonel. And at ease," he replied.
For a few seconds they only glanced at each other, then Hogan's sincere expression changed into a big smile, and for once, Butler didn't give a damn of protocol. Grinning, he closed the small distance to the younger man, and both embraced each other, eliciting a few whistles and snickers, then a loud applause and whoops from the other former POWs.
Butler clapped Hogan's back. "I'm so glad that you're okay, son. I got grey hairs because of you." He whispered, not trusting his voice.
Robert laughed softly, and he relaxed into the older man's arms. "I'm happy, too. It's finally over. Thank you for coming for us, Alex. You saved a lot of lives." He murmured, feeling for a moment safe and secure like he had done all those years ago when he was still a small boy. "And certainly, mine and that of the other officers."
Alex tightened his hold around his protegee, thanking the Lord and Heaven that this crazy troublemaker survived this self-murderous mission. "Of course, I came," he replied softly. "It's the least I could do after all you risked for our country and free people of the world." He made a small step backwards, clapped Rob's shoulder, and beamed at him with damp eyes.
Robert had aged. There were some small crinkles around his eyes, and at the temples, Butler saw a few hues of silver. Yet the younger man looked surprisingly healthy, albeit a little bit thin. Yet those brown eyes still held the same mischievous gleam, and his grin was still a boyish lopsided one, making the general take a deep breath of relief. Even this damn war and hair-rising mission hadn't been able to change Robert Hogan.
Winking at his mentor, Hogan finally turned half away and gestured to the other men behind him. "General," he returned to formalities. "This is Lt. Col. Ryan Connor, former Senior POW Officer of Camp 64, and his second-in-command, Lieutenant Leonard Harrison."
Both lower ranking officers saluted, and Butler returned the greeting with clear respect. "Gentlemen, at ease. I'm happy to find you alive and doing better now. I was informed about the horrible walk you were forced to endure that also cost a lot of your comrades' lives."
"Thank you, General. I have to report 1069 survivals including me and 153 losses," Connor replied quietly.
Butler pressed his lips into a thin line. Yes, he knew about those numbers, but to see the still pale and far too thin men in front of him now, faces careworn and eyes haunted, he felt deep compassion rising in him. Those men had been through hell – all because of these damn Nazis and this insane bastard in Berlin.
"Please accept my sincere condolences for losing all those men, Lt. Colonel. Their sacrifice will not be wasted, be sure of it. How is the condition of your men?"
"Most were able to leave the infirmary within the last few days, sir. Only seven are still too weak and ill to live in the Barracks." He took a deep breath. "General, I want to add that the German Kommandant of this camp and his staff did his best to help my men and I – he even ordered doctors for us and refrained from roll calls for a few days to give my men the chance to recover. He also offered Lt. Harrison, Staff Sergeant Elison, and I a place to stay in his own quarters with Colonel Hogan. To guarantee us some privacy and make more room for my men in the Barracks."
Butler felt a smile tugging at his mouth before he nodded. "Understood, Lt. Colonel. Kommandant Klink is not unknown to me, even if I never met him in person."
Hogan used this cue to turn Alex's attention to Will. Making an inviting gesture with one arm, he waved his lover near, who stopped beside him and stood at attention – heels together, riding crop beneath his arm, stance straight.
"General, this is Colonel Wilhelm Klink. Commanding officer of Stalag 13 'til this morning…and a good friend and ally. Without him, neither my men, nor I would have made it so far or would have survived. He also placed himself always between my men and any form of violence that could befall us by the SS or Gestapo. He was firm, but fair and made certain that we were well fed given the current circumstances in Germany."
Hand risen to the usual military salute, Klink looked at the American staff officer, feeling warm inside by Robert's soft praises. "General Butler, it's a pleasure to meet you finally in person. I would bid you welcome to Stalag 13 but given the fact that Ro…Colonel Hogan is already in charge, would render it redundant."
Butler watched the German in front of him with barely hidden curiosity. The file in London about this man didn't catch his persona. Yes, he was tall and looked a little bit ridiculous with the monocle and riding crop, wearing riding trousers and boots like a member of the cavalry, but his gaze was clear and determined, and his stance spoke of pride, but not of arrogance. He couldn't know how much Wilhelm Klink had changed within the last few months – all because of his love for Robert Hogan.
"Colonel Klink, the pleasure is all mine. I have to admit that I was more than surprised to learn from Colonel Hogan that you were on our side and even for quite some time. You played your role as the…let us say, more gauche German officer so well that you even tricked him. I want to thank you not only for your alliance and assistance you obviously granted the Allies within the last two and a half years, but I in person am very grateful that you kept an eye on Colonel Hogan. I'm aware that it was plainly obvious a few minutes ago that this troublemaker here," he gave Robert a teasing grin. "And I know each other in private, and I'm glad that he survived this dangerous game. Last but not least, also because of you. And one little thing more: Thank you for saving his reckless neck in January and nursing him back to health. I can only imagine the condition he was in, but to haul someone out of SS custody demands a lot of courage and a big daring streak."
"It was my duty, General," Klink answered calmly. "I swore to protect my country as I made the officer's vow, and if it means to fight a danger that comes from inside, then I have no other choice than to do it." He took a deep breath and looked at Robert with a soft gaze. "And concerning this guy here, who cost me dozens of nerves; he is my friend, and I won't let anything happen to him. He saved my life a few times, and I covered for him in return. You spoke of courage I must have shown to get him away from the SS – the truth is our friendship not only inspired new braveness in me, but also enough wrath to protect him even against the devil." He grimaced. "Well, when it came to SS-Major Hochstetter, the comparison with the devil fits, even if he rather looked like a poison gnome."
Here and there soft laughter was heard, even from the GIs, who accompanied the general directly. They had never heard of this SS-major, but the German's dry comment told them enough. Lally chuckled as he imagined a small man in a black SS uniform raging like Rumpelstiltskin and screaming like a banshee. He couldn't know that he had hit the nail on the head with that idea.
Butler felt a true smile spreading over his face. "I heard about him. Colonel Hogan even referred to him with this 'nickname' when sending intel or updated us."
"Well, it really fitted," Rob deadpanned.
"Absolutely," Klink nodded, glad that this danger was once and for all gone from their lives.
Butler cleared his throat. "Colonel Hogan also informed me about everything that happened in January and afterwards. I know what you personally risked keeping him safe and even nursed him back to health in your own four walls. Thank you, Colonel Klink – not only from officer to officer, but also from me in person. I've known Robert since his birth, and he is like a son to me."
"You're welcome, General," Klink answered, with a smile. "Robert has this tendency to completely win you over or drive you up the wall. Sometimes he does both."
He grinned as the US staff officer replied wryly, "At the next leisure, you'll have to tell me how you kept him in check." He nodded towards Hogan, who only gave him a lopsided smile.
"You really don't want to know, Alex," he said, with a certain double meaning.
Klink ignored him and answered, "It's very easy, General. Just let him believe he talked you into something by protesting at the beginning and giving up in the end. You only have to make sure that he wants the same as you. The rest is a child's play."
"Hey, that's my strategy!" Hogan grumbled, but his eyes still sparkled, making Lally and Norton snort in amusement, while the two GIs tried their best to stay serious.
"I see, Colonel Klink. You found the only way possible to hold the reins of Hogan's wild horses." Butler didn't know why his 'chosen son' began to cough or why the German officer smiled so wickedly, but he knew that it was sometimes better to not learn of every detail. He rose his hand to salute. "Colonel."
"General," Wilhelm replied, and this time he gave a floppier salute. Alex knew very well from another colonel, who stood beside the tall German and beamed at him with warm eyes.
Butler became aware that his division (except for the tanks) still waited outside the wires, turned towards one of his companions, and ordered, "Three tanks and 400 of our men shall remain outside to secure the camp. Secure the road as well – or what still exists of it – and send some men out to get a closer look at Hammelburg. The others shall enter, but no aggressions. Stalag 13 is already under command of the US military."
The man saluted, but before he could race away, Klink called, "General, I've learned that a lot of injured members of the Wehrmacht, SS, and Volkssturm are all but camping at the edge of Hammelburg. Furthermore, the SS-troop Colonel Hogan spoke of is in the city, too. Your men should be very careful. We Germans have good eyes, too."
Raising both brows in surprise at this given intel, it told the general volumes about Klink. "Thank you, Colonel." He nodded and gave a few more instructions before the GI finally went away to the waiting jeeps, tanks, and trucks outside of camp.
Hogan gestured to his men, who closed the distance to him and stood at attention. "General, may I introduce my team – my brothers not only in arms, but also in mind. Without those guys, mission "Unsung Heroes" would have been destroyed years ago. My second-in-command, Sergeant James Kinchloe."
Kinch stepped forwards and saluted. "General," he greeted first.
"Sergeant Kinchloe," Butler replied and – skipping protocol – he offered James his hand, who took it gratefully. "I'm very proud that we have such a fine man in our army. We need men like you: clear thinking, highly trained, skilled, brave – and fiercely loyal not only to our flag and vows, but also to his superior. I swear I haven't gotten an earful for years like I got from you at the end of January."
Kinch knew that he should apologize for his slip of the tongue as he told Butler off when Hogan was still injured and barely able to walk. But he didn't. He shielded his friend to prevent him from any further harm, and he would do it again. "The Colonel was in no condition to climb down into the tunnels, sir. Something you maybe thought to be exaggerated, so I had to inform you about his true state."
"Inform?" Butler repeated with a smirk, before he glanced at a wide smiling Hogan. "He hangs out with you too much, as it seems."
Robert only grinned.
Alex glanced back at Kinchloe. "I admire men who act on necessity and not only what the book tells. It needs a strong backbone and logical mind – things you possess. I'm sure you will be a very good addition to our communication staff, Sergeant Major Kinchloe."
Kinch stared at him flabbergasted for a moment, realizing that the general was promoting him – skipping four ranks at once. A sergeant major belonged to the highest-ranking enlisted soldiers without being an officer who went to the academy. They served at battalions or higher staff positions and usually had to have eighteen years of experience in the Army. The latter was partly skipped during the war, but to get this rank now meant that Kinchloe would be in a leading position from now on. One step away to becoming a Command Sergeant Major, the prestigious and honorable rank of all enlisted ranks, titles, and positions without being a trained officer. It was a step on the career ladder many men wanted to make – most didn't manage it. Especially men with dark skin. Butler's promotion opened doors and therefore chances for Kinchloe he had never dared to think of.
"Th-th-thank you, General," he whispered in awe, before a wide smile spread over his face. His eyes shined with joy, while he straightened his shape.
Butler chuckled quietly, exchanged a glance with Hogan, then they were distracted as the jeeps and trucks entered the camp, men leaving their vehicles. Instantly, they were enthusiastically embraced and greeted with cheers by the former POWs. Laughter and tears mixed with given comfort or jokes were exchanged.
Robert gave Wilhelm a short glance, who smiled ruefully. Most of the former POWs behaved like little boys at the moment, and it touched the Oberst deeply. He had hated to keep all these men here against their will, so he was glad that they were finally free again.
Butler watched everything for a long moment with an almost gentle expression, then he turned back to Hogan. His attention was driven to four other men who stood behind his protegee, and even without knowing their faces from the files, he knew who they were: The rest of the Heroes – a patchwork of different nationalities, ranks, and civilian jobs, but thick like thieves. And the best sabotage team he had ever heard of.
"May I introduce the rest of my team?" Robert asked, and gestured to his second radio man. "Sergeant Richard Baker – our second radio operator, electronic specialist, and telephone expert. He also led a few missions, which all ended successfully. It was also him who came up with the idea on how to come to our aid as Underground Agent Lili and I were almost caught during our mission to eliminate the danger of the moveable rocket launchers."
Butler smiled at Baker and shook his hand. "We talked a few times via radio, and I'm pleased to meet you finally in person, Master Sergeant Baker."
Richard stared with big eyes at him – and broke into a wide smile. He had been moved up the ranks by three steps, and even if he didn't plan to remain in the Army, he would get a bigger salary and remuneration when he quit his job to return to civilian life. "Thank you, General," he said, eyes bright. "Thank you so much."
Alex nodded with a kind grin and released his hand, while Hogan waved the youngest member of his gang at his side. "This is Staff Sergeant Andrew Carter. Our best imitator of Hitler. He even fooled a German general with his act and provoked answers from persons entrusted with intel, because they feared 'the Führer's' wrath."
Butler's eyebrows shot up. "You have to give me a performance soon, son."
"With pleasure, General," Andrew answered, while saluting before he let his hand drop again.
Hogan lay a hand on his shoulder as he continued, "He's also our expert when it comes to everything that has to do with fire. You need a detonation? Ask him. You need a fire and not only in the furnace? Ask him. You need chemicals with all thinkable and unthinkable consequences? Ask him."
"And if you want to know the biggest chatterbox in the world? Look at him," came a comment from somewhere, eliciting a lot of laughter, while Carter simply stuck his tongue out in the direction the voice had come from.
"The next time you get a cold butt, think twice before you tell off the only person in the camp who can start a fire out of ashes, Frank!" Andrew called back.
"Carter," Hogan groaned. "Would you – please – concentrate?"
Those big eyes looked at him. "Sorry, Colonel, but this guy…"
"Carter."
Again, Butler had to fight with his amusement, while he waited for the staff sergeant to turn around and give him his full attention again.
"Sorry, General," Andrew said.
"It's alright, First Sergeant Carter," he replied.
Carter beamed at him. "Thank you, General. That's very nice of you." He glanced at Kinchloe. "Well, now I'm the first – that means I outrank you again."
The freshly promoted sergeant major sighed and glanced towards the heavens, while Hogan pinched his nose. "Carter, I'll tell you about the ranks later."
"O-o-okay, Colonel," the young man answered, before he looked at Butler. "It was nice to meet you, sir," he said, waved shyly at the general, and stepped back.
Hogan gave his mentor an apologizing gaze, whose eyes were still laughing. Then Robert waved at the tiny Frenchman. "This is Corporal Louis LeBeau," he introduced him, as LeBeau stepped beside him and saluted. "He's not only our expert when it comes to sabotages, which only can be done when fitting into a mouse hole or in a small box. None of the Nazis ever caught or even suspected something could be wrong until it was too late, because LeBeau did it right beneath their noses. He may be of small shape, but he has the heart of a lion. And he's the best cook outside of France. He not only kept the mood of us all high with his formidable cooking, he even wrapped high ranking German officers around his fingers, because for once they got something different than Schnitzel and Braten (roasted meat with sauce)." Hogan grinned mischievously. "When there was sometimes something in the food that made everyone fall asleep or run to the restrooms two dozen times per hour, then this wasn't because of LeBeau's wrong cooking, but because of Carter's special mixtures."
A few of the GIs, three further officers – who were joining the little group by now – and the Heroes began to laugh, while Butler could only shake his head in disbelief.
"By the way, he's also the most crazy about my dogs," another voice added, and Robert gave Schnitzer a wide smile, as the older man stopped beside the GIs. "I swear they obey him better than me."
Bella, whom he walked at a leash, instantly began to wag her tail and barked joyfully as she recognized LeBeau, trying to get to him.
"Later, ma petite," he said softly, with love in his eyes. "Sitz! (sit)" he added in German. Promptly, the dog obeyed, but continued to watch him.
Butler exchanged a glance with Norton, who was obviously amused, too, and turned his attention back to LeBeau. "I heard a lot about you, Corporal, and I remember a few tasks which wouldn't have been possible to fulfill had it not been for your engagement and bravery. I especially remember the mission in which you blew up a whole lab after you were smuggled into it in a box."
Louis snickered. "Oui, it was a rather crazy task – like so many others."
Alex nodded. "And it was you who raised our colors a few minutes ago." He looked towards the Stars and Stripes on the Kommandantur, and LeBeau shrugged.
"I would have loved to rise the Tricolor, but at least your country and mine have the same colors."
"Just like good ol' England," Newkirk called, earning him some cheers from other captured Englishmen.
"Oui, but your colors are a crazy chaos of stripes – just as crazy as your food," LeBeau said, over his shoulder.
More laughter and dry comments came, while Hogan rubbed his temples with both hands. "Guys, some discipline, please."
"Oui, mon colonel," Louis answered, and grinned up at him.
Slowly, but steadily, it dawned on Butler that it was a miracle that this bunch of oversized rascals had survived in the middle of Nazi Germany at all, not to speak of their missions. Except for Hogan, no one was trained in the spy-business, yet they all had sent the SS and Gestapo on a goose trip for three years.
"Corporal," he addressed LeBeau, and offered him his hand. "I want to give you my sincere thanks for joining this self-murderous operation and for risking your neck all the time you and the others got a mission. I'm sorry that I'm in no position to give you a promotion, but I will speak with Charles de Gaulle to promote you. And I'm sure that your country will receive you with all the honor you deserve."
Louis, who shook his hand, beamed at him. "That's nice of you, mon General. If he knows a nice little restaurant in the area of Marseille that is in need for a new owner, he really would do me a favor. I want to open my own restaurant, you know."
Bella began to bark, and he winked at her. "Of course, I'll take you with me, ma petite. You and a few of the other sweethearts."
Schnitzer chuckled, while Hogan groaned again. Butler's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'll see what I can do for you," he said to LeBeau. "Once again, thank you for everything you did. To tell you the truth, I didn't want to be in your place all those times you risked everything like that."
LeBeau shook his hand. "My pleasure, mon General." Then he bowed and stepped back.
Robert made an inviting gesture to the Englishman, who closed the small distance to him. "Corporal Peter Newkirk from the Royal Air Force," he explained to Alexander. "He's our best voice imitator and even fooled German staff officers with his imitations of other high-ranking politicians or generals. He also is an expert of faking all kind of documents and signatures you can think of, or of opening doors without a key,"
"Including my safe," Klink commented dryly, earning him a few laughs. Newkirk only smirked over his shoulder at him before he returned his attention to Butler and Hogan, who continued.
"Corporal Newkirk is also a damn good actor when it comes to parade as one of the SS. He also led a few missions on his own, which were all a success."
Peter had saluted, and Butler repeated it heartily.
"Corporal Newkirk, regretfully I'm also not able to promote you, but be sure that I will make an explicit recommendation to my British colleague to move you up a few ranks, and to welcome you back in London with full military honors. By the way, this will await all of you when you arrive in London, which will be your first stop before you can fly home. The High Command wants to greet its Heroes, and as far as I heard, Prime Minister Churchill wants to receive you in his office, too."
"Thank you, General. And also, a big thank you for coming to our rescue. I'm sure we were already on our way to who-knows-where, when you wouldn't have made it in time." Newkirk replied.
Butler smiled. "My pleasure, Corporal. Officially, I'm here to make an advance towards the north, because we learned Hitler is in Berlin but…" He shrugged. "A little detour to free a few of our boys and to save a few of our…field service personnel is certainly allowed."
Robert and the others began to laugh at this description. They all knew that Butler had risked big trouble with the High Command that he technically came on his own to Hammelburg.
The general rose his voice to address the Heroes. "I want to give you my heartful thank you for everything you did for the United Allies – you and your friends. I'm very proud that you are so loyal towards Colonel Hogan. When I get it right, you all had his back a few times, and I'm utterly grateful that we could count on such fine men like you. Thank you, my friends." He glanced back at Newkirk. "And thank you for all the risks you took without hesitation." He offered his hand again.
Peter had had a rather unofficial career before he was given a choice: jail or military. Never had he thought that he would shake an American general's hand one day, being praised and receiving true gratefulness. To his horror, he felt himself blushing, while he smiled.
"Thank you, General. This job here wasn't so easy, yes, but Colonel Hogan always went head-first when one of us was in hot water, always had an open ear, and was more like an older brother for us than a superior. Yes, we did everything for the Allies, but – deep down – we also did it for the Gov'nor. We all would go through fire and high water for him."
"Gov'nor?" Butler repeated, already knowing to whom Newkirk was referring, yet it sounded so funny.
"Well, I mean the colonel," Peter shrugged.
Alex couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in him. "If it is a political career you're dreaming of, Hogan, then let me know. Originally, I wanted to promote you to a major general, but if you want to waste your time with discussing things with politicians, then…"
"WHAT? One moment, what did you just say?" Hogan stared at him with big eyes. He – a major general? It would mean he would skip the next rank of brigadier general.
Butler winked at him. "I think to stay in the office and do a desk job as a brigadier general isn't your style. You're a man of the field, therefore commanding a division is more to your liking, isn't it?"
Hogan's jaw almost hit the ground, while around him the men began to cheer and applaud like crazy, whistles mixed with congratulations and joyful comments.
Klink smiled at his lover. "You earned it," he said gently. "If there is one man who earned those stripes, it's you."
"Rather two stars," Butler corrected him with a kind expression before he offered Robert his hand. "I don't have the insignias with me, but I'll hand them and the promotion documents over to you when this whole drama here in Hammelburg is over and you return to England. Two generals at one task would make even Roosevelt dizzy," he added with a wink.
Hogan felt paralyzed. He – a Two-Star General. Just like that. A hard clap on his upper back brought him back to the present. "Congratulations, Colonel." Kinch. Of course. Turning around, he found himself a moment later in a bear hug with his second-in-command. And then the others were around him with a blink of an eye. LeBeau simply wrapped one arm around Hogan's waist, while Newkirk embraced him from behind, and Carter used the last little part that hadn't vanished in the others' arms.
More came – Olsen, of course, and the men of Barracks 3. The moment the Heroes gave their friend free, he found himself surrounded by Broughton, Addison, and Walters. Olsen and Wilson didn't shy away from giving him a hug, too. Connor shook his hand, Harrison clapped his back, and Elison lay a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.
"Colonel Hogan!"
Schultz. His big figure pushed through the crowd – not caring for some GIs instantly aiming their rifles at him. A second later, Robert felt himself being pressed to the large man, who croaked, "I'm so, so happy for you, my friend."
Looking up, Robert found the former Sergeant of the Guards in tears – tears of joy. "Schultzie." He laughed quietly and returned the embrace, before he called over his shoulder to the GIs, "Lower your weapons! This man is a true friend." He took Schultz's arm and pulled him through the others towards Butler, who talked with a smiling Klink and a curious Norton and Lally.
"Alex," he called and pushed the heavy Bavarian in front of him. "This here is our Schultzie."
"Our Strudel King." Newkirk added cheerfully.
"Our living, talking Weißwurst (a white colored sausage made of veal)," Louis snickered.
"LeBeau!" Hans rebuked him fatherly with a playful lifted finger. Then he remembered whom he was facing at the moment, stood to attention, and saluted. "General Butler, I'm glad that you made it in time and got these cads out of danger."
Butler looked the large man up and down, saw the kind round face, the goofy smile, and the big eyes that were so like those of a certain boy he met two weeks ago.
"Sergeant Schultz," he greeted. "I have a message for you – not originally given, but I'm sure the boy would have asked me to send you his love when we two met."
"The…boy?" Schultz didn't dare to hope that the American really referred to his Max.
"Your son – Maximilian," Butler confirmed what the German already assumed. "I met him in Coblenz after the town was conquered."
"You met Max?" Hogan asked, surprised.
"I was in the Coblenz city hall as some of our men were brought in – injured during building an interims bridge. A German boy worried for one of our sergeants, and because I 'mingled around', he sent me away to get a doctor."
Both Hogan and Schultz tore their eyes open. "WHAT?"
Butler began to chuckle. "Yes, he sent me to get help for said sergeant."
"Ja, this boy has to be your son, Schultz," Klink sighed, shaking his head, but the edges of his mouth moved upwards. "Something like this lies within the family."
Alex grinned. "I have to admit, the worry and loyalty he showed to one of us was touching. I let him join the officers' dinner and talked with him. He apologized, yet he made it very clear that he wouldn't change anything when a friend is in need." He smiled at Schultz. "You can be proud of your son, Sergeant. He is a brave boy – and fiercely loyal towards his friends. And he has a good heart. I heard he wants to study medicine. I hope that Heidelberg will surrender without any problems so that the town will come out of everything without too much damage – especially the university there. You have a medical faculty there, too, haven't you?"
Schultz nodded, his eyes shining. "Yes, General. And if my youngest wants to become a doctor, I'll try to get the money together to make it possible."
"You once owned a toy company, didn't you?" Butler asked, and Hans made an affirming gesture.
"Yes. It's been in the possession of my wife's family for three generations. We were disowned because the facility was needed for war machinery, and I didn't agree to this change of production."
Butler pursed his lips. "Well, if everything turns out well, the company needs its real owner back. Yes, President Roosevelt plans to prevent you Germans to tinker too much in the future, but toys for children are barely a threat. I'm sure I can do something for you and your family. Jobs will be needed after the war to rebuild your country – and to work in a toy company isn't the worst you can earn money with."
Schultz felt his face flushing with hope and joy. "Thank you, General. If you…would put in a good word for my family's company, you would make me the happiest man alive."
Butler clapped his shoulder. "Considered it done, Sergeant. And thank you for covering for Hogan and his boys. This troublemaker is like a son to me, and I'm sure that he's still alive because of you and Colonel Klink – and his other friends."
Hans saluted. "It was an honor, General." He shot Hogan a glare. "Even if this rascal cost me dozens of nerves."
"Oh, come on, Schultzie, we made up for it with Strudel," Louis called – and once again half of the camp seemed to burst into laughter. Even a few of the German guards, who still stood there lined up, dared to smirk. The arriving GIs around them could only stare and wonder. There seemed to be a kind of peaceful co-existence between POWs and some guards they had never witnessed before.
Robert's attention was driven to another man in a German uniform, who approached him carefully with risen hands. "Charley," he said kindly and signaled to the nearby GIs to let Langenscheidt pass through. The corporal stopped in front of him and offered his hand.
"Congratulations, Colonel," he said softly. "I agree with Oberst Klink. You deserved the promotion." He glanced at the other Heroes. "You all did."
"Thanks, Charley," Kinch grinned.
"Yes, thank you," Hogan smiled and clapped Karl's shoulder before he turned towards Butler. "And this is Corporal Karl Langenscheidt, another friend and ally. It was him who 'closed' his eyes in Paris as another mission happened, and he also never gave anything away when he developed something mysterious within the camp or Barracks 2 in particular."
Butler looked at the young German, who saluted. Returning the greeting rather sloppy, he replied, "Corporal, thank you for your support. Of course, just like Sergeant Schultz, you won't face any trouble from us."
Karl gulped and nodded. "Th-th-thank you, General."
Some movement came into the lines of men, and Hogan saw how Butler tensed. Turning around, he recognized the stout figure of Burkhalter, beside him being Schmidt. Hilda, with Little Manfred in her arms, stood behind them with her parents. The American general's face turned firm, his eyes became stern, his stance straight and stiff.
Suppressing a sigh, Hogan made a little bit more room for the Austrian. "General Butler, this is General Albert Burkhalter," he introduced the Wehrmachts officer. "General Burkhalter, please meet General Butler," he continued the formalities. Both men saluted properly, bound by the honor of officers to greet even an enemy like this.
"General," both said in unison, eyeing each other warily, and Robert cleared his throat.
"General," he addressed his mentor. "That we could inform you about the whereabout of Hitler and of his newest plans concerning us here was because of General Burkhalter, as you know. He also tried to stick true to the Geneva Conventions and shielded us as good as possible from despotism."
"Sir," Connor rose to speak. "I also have to add that it was General Burkhalter, who took over the responsibility for us and snatched us away from the Totenkopf-SS before more damage could be done. He even ordered a train on his own to pick us up, certainly saving a dozen or more of my men."
"He gave intel willingly after he learned the truth about Auschwitz and supported us within the last several days," Hogan added for good measurement. "And he used his personal influence and rank to get supplies for us. Without them, we would have run out of nourishment and medical care a week or more ago."
Burkhalter had listened to the two men's small praises and felt gratefulness rising in him. Hogan kept his promise, just like Connor. He had known that both men were honorable, yet a little bit of uncertainty had remained. And it still lived in him – not because of Hogan, but of Butler.
Alex watched the fat man in front of him. Half of Germany was starving, and the man was like a living ball. Yet the Austrian looked drained and exhausted – emotionally. As it seemed, the horror of what really happened around him had finally caught up with him. Or rather he had finally opened his eyes. Too late to switch sides, but not late enough to prevent more cruelness from happening. Butler was very aware of the fact that Robert and the others would be deported away right now had it not been for Burkhalter. He also remembered the (former) general had come from Berlin to Hammelburg for rescue, driving the long way down to interfere as Hogan was kidnapped from this ominous SS-major everyone loathed even after death.
He took a deep breath. "General Burkhalter, your willingness to prevent worse from happening, your support of Lt. Col. Connor and his men, and your whole manners concerning this camp, sticking to the Geneva Conventions, will be regarded and considered favorably during the trial I'm not able to spare you of. But be sure that your good deeds will have a greater influence and Colonel Hogan and his men, as well as Lt. Col. Connor, are going to be main witnesses. I'm sure they will put in good words for you, too."
Burkhalter nodded. "Thank you, General. I only have one requirement." As he caught the half warily, half surprised expression on the other man's face, he said, "My driver, a young man, never had any active part in combat and only obeyed my orders. Well, almost, except as he didn't leave me behind and tried to get to safety but drove me all the way to Hammelburg and even had a part in my official 'death'. I ask you to let the boy go as soon as the war is over. He's a good man, and I hope his life will be better from now on."
If Butler had expected anything, it was not this. Not from a Nazi – well, ex-Nazi, as it seemed. He exchanged a short look with Hogan, who nodded, confirming Burkhalter's description of the young man. "I see no problem in setting him free when this war is over – after checking him through, of course. I think he'll also be questioned at your trial. Would this be a problem for you?" He addressed Burkhalter, who shook his head.
"No, General. Of course not."
Alex sighed and shrugged. "Okay. Shall he stay here?" He glanced askingly at Hogan, who smiled softly.
"I'm sure he won't give any trouble. He's a nice boy, and he can help us here to put everything in order."
"My camp IS in order, my dear Hogan!" Klink protested, shooting his lover a glare, who only chuckled.
"My dear Colonel Klink, it's my camp now since this morning."
"And you need men to put everything in order already. Tsk-tsk, this tells me everything." He shook his head in fake regret, earning him a few snickers and chuckles.
"Yet when I remember the time Sergeant Schultz and Colonel Hogan were both in command three weeks ago, I only find one word: Chaos," another voice commented, and Robert pouted.
"Hey, try to build Barracks out of nothing – or only of a few wooden planks. That was anything but a walk in the park."
Burkhalter and Butler turned their attention to their left, and Robert smiled as he waved the young man nearer. "Alex, this is another friend of me."
"SS-Lieutenant Horst Schmidt, I assume," Butler said, and returned the military salute of the young man.
"At your service, General," Schmidt answered.
"I hope the damages within Hammelburg are not too bad," Butler said carefully, and Horst sighed deeply.
"A woman died in the rectory, and an older man fell prey to his injuries. The centuries old windows of our church are only splinters now, and a few houses caught fire. Compared with what could have happened, the damages are low, yet two lives were lost."
Butler bowed his head. "My condolences, Lieutenant. As far as I learned by now, you take your responsibility for the town's safety very seriously."
Schmidt made an affirming gesture. "I regard myself rather a police officer than an SS-officer. By now, both units are more or less melded together – regretfully. Yet I try my best to keep order and safety up in the town."
Lally rose to speak for the first time. "May I ask how long you've been in the service of the SS?"
"I originally belonged to the SA but was transferred to the SS last summer after the failed attempt to get rid of Hitler. The SA was dissolved and those who weren't suspected to be supporters of the assassins were transferred to the SS," Schmidt answered truthfully.
"The SA – so you were trained for intel. Is this the reason why you found out about Papa Bear?" Butler asked curiously, and Schmidt shrugged.
"There were a few hints which became more and more – hints which built not only a puzzle, but finally a whole picture. I read every file Major Hochstetter had collected about Colonel Hogan and realized one thing: Papa Bear strikes when you expect it the least, but he always keeps the numbers of victims low. And he spares his enemies as much as possible." His glance found Hogan. "And I realized that he values the civilians' safety, too, but also tries to stop the insanity that grows from week to week in my country. So, it was only logical to work with him. He's an honorable man – despite his real business."
They exchanged a smile with each other, while Lally murmured, "Yet you never switched sides."
"Too dangerous," Schmidt admitted.
"Yet he caught me red-handed one time and made sure that I could escape. And he covered for my men and I, warned us when trouble was approaching, and used his uniform to get the supplies we needed to build the new shower rooms and interims cantina over there." Robert flipped a thumb towards the former motor pool.
"General?" A tentative voice spoke softly from the crowd, and a young man pushed forward while supported by another young man, whom he resembled a lot. It was clear that they were brothers. "May I have a minute of your time, sir?"
It was more than unusual that a private simply addressed a general, but Butler didn't stick too strong to protocol. This here was a highly unusual event, so if a young soldier turned directly to him, no problem. "Yes, Private?"
"Sir, Lieutenant Schmidt saved my life out there." Evan Martins nodded towards the road. "He hindered one of the SS-guards to shoot me as I was too tired to walk any further."
Butler's eyes widened. "He saved you?"
His brother Steven took a deep breath. "The Lieutenant tore the guard's weapon away the moment the bastard pulled the trigger. If he wouldn't have intervened, Evan would be dead now. Afterwards, he shared his own lunch package and some tea with him and a few others. He even covered Evan with his own coat. He made certain that trucks from Hammelburg picked us up to transport us the last stage along to camp." The two brothers gave a blushing Schmidt a grateful smile.
"And he fed dozens of our men," Hank Ashton added, pushing through the crowd. Saluting to Butler, he introduced himself. "Lt. Commander Dr. Hank Ashton, 9th Division. Medic Wilson, a young German who studied medicine, and two surgeons from Hammelburg took care of the men after our arrival here. Lieutenant Schmidt stayed the whole afternoon helping me and the others to treat them. He fed them, gave them drinks, and cleaned their wounds. The same goes for his confidant, a Sergeant Fuhrmann, who isn't here at the moment. Without the Lieutenant, a few of our men wouldn't have made it, sir."
Horst was red like a tomato by now. "Nothing that any decent man wouldn't have done in my place," he murmured.
"I beg to differ," Connor said, with a smile. "You technically broke not only a dozen unwritten rules and even got into serious discussions with this damn Hartmann, you aided 'the enemy'. Even if we also take care of injured Germans as far as I know, you did far more."
Butler crossed both arms in front of his chest. "Let me guess, gentlemen. You wouldn't accept if this young man here would be arrested."
"Damn right!"
"Yes!"
"Aye, aye!"
"Wrong uniform, right heart. Leave him alone, sir. Please."
Evan stepped beside Schmidt, his movements still unsure and weak, but he was in far better condition than before. "I owe you my life, and I won't let anything happen to you," he said softly.
Horst lay a hand on his shoulder. "Don't get into trouble with your superior, m'boy."
"He rather gets into trouble with me," Martins whispered.
"No one gets into trouble here," a female voice said kindly, but with a certain firmness.
Hogan suppressed a grin. Oh-oh, Hilda changed into a lioness. That only meant one thing: seeking out full cover. He glanced at Butler and saw, like expected, the surprise on his mentor's face that suddenly changed into acknowledgement and became softer.
"Miss Hilda Schneider, I assume?"
"Yes, General," the young woman answered, and handed Manfred to her mother before she closed the distance to the US staff officer and offered him his hand. "I'm glad to meet you finally in person, General."
"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Schneider." He gallantly gave her a kiss on the hand. "The photos don't catch your charming beauty, my dear. And I have to admit that I enjoyed our talks via radio or telephone a lot."
"Indeed, they were nice – and partly very interesting."
Hogan and Klink weren't the only one whose jaws hung down to the ground. The Heroes all stared at Hilda as if she suddenly had grown two heads, four arms, and four legs. Schultz and her parents didn't look any less baffled, while Burkhalter and Schmidt frowned.
"You…you know each other?" Hogan asked, thunderstruck.
The most wicked grin he had ever seen on Butler's face made him wary. "Yes, but we met now in person for the first time."
Robert stared back at Hilda, who gave him a very sweet, but also gleeful smile.
"My dear Robbie, remember your trick to get Oberst Klink away from his kidnappers by making General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter believe he was Nimrod, the master spy they wanted to catch so desperately?"
"Yes," Hogan answered slowly, getting a very, very bad feeling.
"Ever wondered how afterwards the plans of the new German Messerschmitt got into the packages with the models of a Zeppelin you and your guys got for entertainment?"
Robert still only blinked at her like an owl, while it slowly made 'click', 'click', 'click' in his mind. "Don't tell me…" he began hoarsely, then he shook his head in denial. "No, this can't be!"
Hilda began to laugh and exchanged a short glance with Butler, who simply nodded with mischievousness, and let the cat out of the bag.
"Yes, Robbie, I'm Nimrod!"
TBC…
SURPRISE! I hope, you haven't seen this coming. I had so much fun to write this scene and to imagine everyone's face, I hope, you have similar fun. Yes, Hilda is Nimrod in my story – the mysterious master-spy no-one ever saw or assumed who it could be. I think it makes sense, and why and how she became said spy will be revealed in the next chapter, including the reactions of all the others (grin).
The story will continue now with the conquering of Hammelburg – after everything has calmed down in Stalag 13, of course. It will be the last action, before the story comes slowly to an end.
I would love to get some comments / reviews. I know, the story is long now and the breaks are longer than usual, yet I hope that you continue to read it.
Have a nice weekend,
Stay healthy (or get better),
Love
Yours Starflight
