RAMPS
chapter 7
Lucky Strike Camp
April 24, 1945
afternoon
"Colonel?" Olsen poked his head around the curtain. Seeing the empty bed, he approached one of the other patients. "Where's the colonel?"
"Over there." The private pointed. "He's going for a walk with one of the nurses. Lucky."
"Oh. I see him. Thanks." It took little time for Olsen to catch up to the pair, as they were moving at a snail's pace, although from the looks of it, Hogan was not unhappy with his escort.
"Morning, sir. Lieutenant." Olsen said. "Good to see you up."
The pair stopped. The nurse, who had her arm wrapped around Hogan's left arm, loosened her grip, but still gave her patient some support. Olsen noticed that Hogan didn't argue.
"It feels good to take a walk, Olsen."
Olsen was adept at observation, and he had the ability to size up people and situations rather quickly. While in camp and outside the perimeter, this skill was a matter of life and death. He quickly assessed his C.O.
The colonel was wearing a bathrobe; his hair was trimmed and his nonchalant slouch-so often seen in the camp, especially when Germans were around, was not as pronounced. Olsen noticed Hogan was favoring one side a bit, but for the most part, he was relieved to see definite improvement.
The nurse flashed Olsen a brief smile. "Let's turn around Colonel Hogan and get you back to your bed."
"You're the boss." The pair, with Olsen trailing behind, swung around and continued their walk down the center of the ward, stopping every few seconds to greet the remaining patients. Hogan gingerly returned to his bed and waited for the nurse to prop him up. Once he was settled and the nurse left, he was ready to talk.
"Okay, Olsen. What's up?"
"Nothing, sir. Well nothing unusual. Talks with Colonel Wembley. Meetings with that general. A lot of waiting around."
"I warned you your debriefing is going to take a long time," Hogan replied.
"Oh, they haven't even started that yet. That's not until you're better, sir, and we can get to London."
"So what's bothering you?"
"I didn't say anything was bothering me, Colonel."
"Olsen. You know I can read you like a book." Hogan folded his arms across his chest and gave the sergeant a look that meant business.
Both men quickly recalled a recent past interaction. The difficult times and hardships now seemed a lifetime ago, although it was just a few weeks prior to liberation that their brief walk around camp created a turning point-both in their relationship and camp morale.
Luft Stalag 13
April 2, 1945
It was slow going, but Hogan, with Olsen's help, continued his walk around the entire camp, taking a break every so often to sit on a bench. It was a nice day and most of the prisoners who weren't sick were outdoors. Immediately, groups of men from every barracks approached the pair as soon as they were spotted. They offered their good wishes and even the guards said a few kind words. In between greetings, Hogan and Olsen had time to converse.
"It's been a long time since we had a private talk." Hogan sat down on a bench outside the mess hall.
"Yes, sir. It has… I," Olsen gave a little start as the sound of distant artillery interrupted their conversation.
"Hey." Hogan put his hand on the sergeant's arm. "Easy. Why so jumpy?"
Olsen could now see the concern on Hogan's face.
"This is embarrassing," he mumbled as he looked down at the ground.
"I know operations are at a standstill, but who knows what will happen. We may have to fight for the camp. I can't afford to have a man who's jumpy," Hogan said quietly.
Olsen couldn't look Hogan in the eyes, and so he continued to stare at the ground. A few seconds went by.
"When was the last time you were out? I forgot. I've lost track of time," Hogan asked.
"About two weeks. When I got the last batch of supplies."
"I see. You know, when I was first given command of the 504th, I had just been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel." Hogan chuckled. "That night, I… Well, never mind where was I?"
"Promotion." Olsen grinned. "It's hard to think of you ever as being a major. Doesn't roll off the tongue right."
Hogan laughed. "No one's ever said that. Seriously, it's a big responsibility. Planning raids, briefing a lot of young men who are about to go up in planes that can explode from one lucky shot."
"But you went with."
"Yeah." Hogan got a faraway look in his eyes. "There were a lot of raids where I came back, and many of them didn't. I'm in the cockpit. And out of the corner of my eye I can see the flashes and hear the explosions. The sound of the planes that were hit; screaming as they fell." The colonel swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.
"I remember," Olsen shuddered; then waited for Hogan to get to the point.
"The sound and the flashes of light. They stay with you. Certain noises. I still get flashbacks. The worst part was that I felt helpless. I'm hearing this and seeing this, and there wasn't one damn thing I could do about it. The first few times, I'd get back to base and inside I was a wreck. But eventually, I learned to separate my emotions from reality. I know I couldn't be a good commander otherwise, and I definitely couldn't continue to go out on raids. My point is; it's okay to worry and care. You hear the artillery, you're worried about Heidi, the Schnitzer's, and your relatives. But if you let it consume you, you'll end up in a bad place, and that won't do that much good, will it?"
"It just started all of a sudden. One day, with no warning." Olsen sighed. "Guess I was thinking about her, and then I heard something. How did you know?"
"You've been too quiet. That was the first sign. And you're not the jumpy or nervous type. We're entering another chapter in this horror story. And you have loved ones in the crossfire." There was no need to sugar coat it. When it came to risks and danger, Hogan believed honesty was the best way to treat those under his command.
"Not when I first got here." The memory of his capture and treatment still haunted the sergeant. It took time and a lot of care from the colonel and his friends in the barracks for Olsen to come to terms with what he saw and experienced. He still managed to compartmentalize this trauma, but this jumpiness was new. "I suppose." He looked up at the blue sky and then shrugged.
Hogan recalled Olsen's arrival at camp. He was a shell; withdrawn and traumatized. But, with help and perseverance, the sergeant became one of Hogan's indispensable operatives.
They both knew this. "You're one of the bravest men I've ever met." Hogan gripped the edge of the bench for support and stood up. Olsen followed. "I think I better get back before Wilson yells at me."
Olsen was momentarily stunned at Hogan's words; then recovered. "Thank you, sir. These next few weeks, you can count on me."
The colonel nodded and then said, "I've never doubted it."
Camp Lucky Strike
"So what's bothering you?" Hogan asked.
"What? Oh sorry. Can't put anything past you, sir."
"That's what I used to say to Klink. Pull up a chair."
Olsen grabbed the chair and placed it near the bedside. He sat down, leaned back and crossed one leg over another. "I need to find a way to get back. Once everything is over that is."
"It's going to be chaos over there. I can tell you that. And things have to be mopped up. It'll be months before all the troops get redeployed," Hogan explained.
"I figured. You think they'll let me back in?" Olsen asked.
"I haven't even spoken to the brass yet. They'll need translators and cultural liaisons. We need to work with these people. It won't be easy or pretty."
"I can handle it." Olsen's face showed determination.
"Hey, speak of the devil. Look." Hogan pointed at General Butler, who had entered the building.
"I think this would be a good time for me to check on something. Glad to see you feeling better, sir."
"Go ahead. Tell LeBeau to come by when he gets a chance."
"Will do." Olsen walked past the other beds, as he mumbled, "I'm outta here," to one of his friends.
"General," he saluted.
"Sergeant Olsen is it?"
"Yes, Sir.
"I see Colonel Hogan is feeling better?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good to hear." The general walked down towards the end of the ward. "How are you feeling, Hogan?"
"Honestly? Better than I did when I came in."
Butler sat down in the chair Olsen had just vacated. "Didn't expect you to admit that. I tried to get in here earlier but I couldn't get through the bouncers at the door. Although," he nodded in Olsen's direction. "I see your men have been here."
"The bouncers. Good one. These nurses are tough. My men were here to give short reports, not to ask questions. I'm sorry. I'll talk to the bouncers."
"No, it's all right. I've spoken with your doctor. Look, I'm heading back to London. Military Intelligence will stay and work with the men. We can do all of the debriefing there. Those would've been our plans for the most part. When you are ready, we'll just need information about your contacts and sabotage operations; minor stuff."
"l'm sure my men can help out with that. But still, there's a lot of information. I do have a favor."
"Go ahead."
"It's about two of my operatives. LeBeau and Olsen. First, I hate to have to bring LeBeau over to London and then delay his trip home."
"He's from, Paris, isn't he?"
Hogan nodded. "He's been there twice." Hogan didn't reveal the trip to save Tiger.
"I remember. That's rough. I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything. And Olsen?"
"That is a bit more complicated. He wants to go back after Germany surrenders."
"Hopefully sooner than later. Why?" Butler asked.
"He was my outside man, sir. It's a long story. But he has relatives and he wants to check on the dog handler. You'll need cultural attachés and translators."
"I can probably call in some favors for that one. And I'll speak with him in London."
"Thanks, sir."
"I'm sorry, General." A nurse approached. "You'll have to leave. I need to care for my patient."
"I'm leaving, Lieutenant. Hogan, I'll check on you later."
"No," Hogan protested. "Wait. Lieutenant." he told the nurse. "Hand me my bathrobe. We can finish our discussion. General, I'll walk you back. How far is it? I don't need anything at the moment. Get me out of here," he whispered to Butler. "I'm going stir crazy."
"Colonel Hogan, please sit down." Exasperated, the nurse turned to the general. "Sorry, sir. He doesn't follow orders very well."
Butler chuckled. "Hogan. I'm ordering to you to listen to the medical staff. Later."
Hogan tried to sulk, but knowing he was wrong, he couldn't help but smile.
"Feeling better, I see. You're more uncooperative. That's a good sign." She smiled back at him.
"Hey, Colonel Hogan!" A recovering prisoner yelled. "I wouldn't take that."
"Pipe down, Conrad." Hogan yelled back. "Oh cripes, not another shot."
"If you cooperate, I'll give you another sponge bath later on."
"Whatever you say." Hogan was chomping at the bit and he frowned. But, his tone was cordial. He knew when he was outnumbered.
"Try to get some rest," the nurse said as she shook her head. She finished her exam, made the colonel comfortable and then walked away, smiling as she left. She was experienced enough to know that while there was always a chance of a relapse, Hogan's complaints were a definite sign of improvement.
A/N: Regarding Olsen: my head canon gives him a German mother and an American father. He becomes very close to Oscar and his family and later falls in love with his niece. His history can be seen in my 2009 story, "The Outside Man." Briefly, he is familiar with the area and has a lot of relatives residing in Germany. His mother and sister left the country before Olsen and his father, but they managed to leave before the war. Olsen's treatment in the Dulag (they discovered his German background) plus what he witnessed after his capture traumatized him and he was indeed a shell of a man when he arrived at camp. You don't have to read the entire story to get to this part.
Again, this chapter has not been betaed. Please let me know of any mistakes or improvements and I will edit the chapter. (particularly any military protocol). Thanks!