Just before midnight, the tree stump exit opened. Four perplexed men in civilian clothes slunk through the opening and dove into the surrounding brush. They knew little about the coming plan except that they were somehow going to send five horses off to the coast. Hogan had been reluctant to share any details, most likely because he didn't know himself what was going to happen. The trapdoor opened once more and Hogan slipped out. He glanced around at his men and, with a quick nod, headed off towards the road. Dodging occasional spotlights, the rest of the heroes filed in behind him. They reached the farm with little difficulty. A light shone in one farmhouse window, but the rest of the place was dark. Scanning the area for anything suspicious, Hogan led the way to the barn. The sliding doors gave way with a wretched shriek. Inside came the disturbed clucking of hens, the grunts of sleeping pigs, and few familiar nickers. Five white shadows appeared over the stall doors.
"They're here," piped Carter.
"Where else would they be?" Newkirk grumbled.
"Alright, everyone settle down," Hogan whispered. "We have to get these animals and the code book to the nearest Underground checkpoint about ten miles north of here. The agents there, codename Cowboy Joe, will take them to the coast where a supply ship is waiting to get them to London."
"But how are we gonna move them?" asked Kinch. "We don't have any trailers, and we can't walk them and their equipment all that way."
"We're not gonna walk them; we're gonna ride them."
A patrol walking a mile off would have clearly heard the shouts of surprise that rose from the barn.
"Ride them! Colonel, I haven't been on a horse since I was ten years old!" Carter protested.
"And what about me? How many horses do you think there are in downtown Paris?" said LeBeau.
"I know I said I've been around 'orses, sir, but that doesn't mean I've ever sat on one!" Newkirk growled.
"Well you will tonight. LeBeau, look around for those saddles and bring them out here. The rest of you men choose your mount."
LeBeau found the saddles leaning side-by-side against a far wall, along with the rest of the tack. He distributed the equipment as necessary. After much cursing and a few haphazard kicks from disgruntled horses, the heroes finally figured out which direction the saddles faced and how to apply a bit properly. Carter was the first to figure the puzzle out. Leading his horse to an overturned bucket, he thrust one foot in the stirrup and hauled himself on the horse's back. His mare sidestepped as he did so, but he gripped the saddle tightly and held on. Hogan copied his movements, followed by LeBeau, Kincheloe, and last of all, Newkirk. Soon enough, five giant horses skittered nervously around the open farmyard, their clueless riders struggling to stay on board. All except for Carter, who seemed to understand his horse perfectly. Turning his mare towards the Hammelburg Road, he glanced back at Hogan.
"Which way, Colonel?" he asked.
Colonel Hogan, who tried his best to balance as his horse shied away from a haystack, stammered out the directions.
"North for three miles and then… whoa, girl. Easy… follow the gravel road the rest of the way."
Carter nodded and resolutely drove his horse onwards. The mare sprang forward at his touch and cantered off down the road. Hogan's horse followed close behind. Newkirk spun his fussy mount in a tight circle, crashing into LeBeau and almost unseating them both.
"Hey, watch it, will you?" LeBeau snarled, more out of frustration than anger.
"Can I 'elp it if me 'orse don't want to move?" Newkirk grumbled.
"Come on, you guys. We' better catch up," called Kinch as he trotted past them after Hogan and Carter.
After more cajoling, Newkirk and LeBeau finally straightened their horses and themselves and took off in pursuit of their comrades. With Carter in the lead, the five horses galloped down the road. Hogan prayed that no German patrols would be around to hear the rapid hoofbeats.
[…]
Sergeant Schultz shouldered his rifle as he spun on his heel for the five-hundredth time since he returned to duty. This had to be the most remote post in the whole stalag. Back and forth right next to the road with no one around to talk to. Never mind. At least no one would notice when his knees grew too tired to hold him up. With a sigh of relief, he settled down and leaned against a post. Just before he shut his eyes, a strange sound reached his ear.
The ground seemed to tremble as though a train were approaching. He opened one eye to see a blur of white figures charging down the road towards him. The thundering grew louder. Schultz scrambled to his feet as the blurs cleared and separated in the moonlight to become five white horses galloping at full speed. With a shout of surprise, Schultz dropped his rifle and huddled against the fence. The horses charged past him in a flurry of dirt and gravel. Above the hoofbeats, a chorus of voices shrilled at him.
"Hiya, Schultz!"
"Hey, Schultzie!"
"Aye, Schultzie!"
Schultz froze as the clattering faded away. Peering out after the disappearing animals, he tried to make out the dark riders on their backs. Could it be? No, that was impossible. Hogan and his men were asleep in the barracks. Weren't they? Schultz let out a whining sigh and mumbled,
"It is time for me to know nothing. Nothing."
[…]
The five horses thundered along at an ever-increasing speed. Veering off the road, they continued down a narrow gravel path, barely illuminated by moonlight. Newkirk, finally settling into the motion, glanced to his right to see LeBeau gradually inching ahead of him. Not about to be outdone, he spurred his horse on further. The lively mare responded and breezed past the Frenchmen.
"Is that the fastest your nag can go, LeBeau?" Newkirk taunted as they raced by.
LeBeau scowled and legged on his own mount. Together, they swept past Kinch on either side and squeezed between Hogan and Carter.
"Look out for the tree!" yelled Hogan as they galloped off.
They saw it at the same time he spoke. A giant tree had fallen across the road, completely blocking the path.
"Whoa, mate!" Newkirk yelled, "Easy!"
He pulled desperately at the reins, but his horse had other ideas. He grabbed fistfuls of silky mane and steeled himself. With one great leap, they cleared the tree trunk and landed solidly on the other side. Newkirk clung desperately to the horse's neck. Behind him, LeBeau cleared the obstacle with considerable ease, followed by the rest of the heroes. With his rival unseated, LeBeau inched to the lead. Determined not to be beaten, Newkirk hauled himself upright and continued the chase. Presently, the lights of a cottage blinked into view. That had to be the checkpoint. Newkirk egged his horse on with all his might. Stride by stride, they left a furious LeBeau behind. The blur of a cottage spun into view, with several agents waiting just outside. Just before running them over, Newkirk's horse stopped short and reared, striking out with its forelimbs. Newkirk rolled off its back and landed with a thump on the stones below. While one agent grabbed the striking, kicking horse; another extended a hand to Newkirk.
"Are you alright?" asked the agent.
"Fine, just fine," Newkirk grumbled.
LeBeau reined his horse to a smooth halt, closely followed by Carter, Kinch, and Hogan. Exhausted from the ride, they slid to the ground and handed their mares to the agents.
"Which one of you is Papa Bear?" asked the agent by Newkirk.
Hogan held out a hand.
"I'm Papa Bear. I assume you're Cowboy Joe?"
The agent chuckled. "Call me Fritz. I assume these are your latest escapees?"
"All five of them. And one of those saddles carries something important to go to London, so don't lose anything."
"Don't worry, Colonel. We'll get these animals to London safely. They'll be gone before anyone realizes they're missing."
"Wonderful." He stroked his mare on the forehead. "Well, girl, it's been fun. I must say, of all the girls I've run into during my stay here, you're one I'll never forget."
Carter threw his arms around his horse's neck and squeezed.
"Don't worry, pal. I'll come look for you after the war."
Kinch and LeBeau gave their horses similar farewells. Newkirk stood awkwardly to the side and watched as three agents struggled to subdue his horse.
"I think I'll pass," he muttered.
"Aw come on, Newkirk," Carter cajoled. "I know you'll miss her."
"Aw, alright." The Englishman took a hesitant step towards the sweaty horse and gingerly touched its flank.
"So long, mate. It's been fun, I suppose. After all, we did win the race."
"Who said we were racing?" LeBeau snarked.
Giving his mare one last pat, Hogan shook hands once again with Fritz.
"Hans here will drive you back to camp. Thank you once again for your help, Colonel."
"Yeah, well next time you need to rescue livestock, don't call Papa Bear. This sort of thing shouldn't happen more than once a war."
Fritz chuckled and waved the heroes off as they piled into the waiting car. As they drove off, none of them could help stealing a glance over their shoulders to watch the horses fade away in the night.