Klink shifted nervously outside the empty paddock, wincing as Burkhalter's screeching grew increasingly louder.

"How could you have been so stupid, Klink? Leaving such expensive animals alone with a common farmer!"

"But General Burkhalter, I could not keep them here. They all suffered from barn blues. The prisoner Newkirk said so."

"You listened to an enemy prisoner instead of calling an expert?"

"Herr General, if you just give me a chance to explain I…"

"You've explained enough, Klink. Now you will find those horses or I'll put you on that cargo train!"

"Oh, General?"

Burkhalter gave a start as Hogan's voice piped up from around the corner.

"Hogan, what are you doing here?" Klink whined. "The General and I are in the middle of an important conversation. Dismissed."

"Oh, I see. You're explaining to the General how sick those horses were. Well, I'll leave you to it, then."

"Just a minute, Hogan," Burkhalter sneered, "were they really that sick?"

Hogan smirked. "It's just as well they were stolen, sir. Those animals wouldn't have made it halfway to Stalingrad. Probably saved you a lot of time and effort by disappearing."

"Maybe so," Burkhalter replied, "but we'll still conduct a search. Those horses can't have gone far. It couldn't hurt to confirm this story. After all, I don't consider you the most credible source."

"If you insist."

Hogan popped a sloppy salute, which Klink returned with a huff. Leaving the German officers to their business, he spun on his heel and headed back to the barracks. Schultz stopped him just outside the door.

"Colonel Hogan, please. You have to tell me. Last night, I was walking guard duty when I thought I saw five white horses pass by. And the riders knew my name. I checked the beds just afterwards and none of you were there, but this morning you were here again. Now, Colonel Hogan, why would a bunch of prisoners be riding horses in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know, Schultz, you tell me. Are you sure you weren't counting horses in your sleep?"

"I was not asleep, Colonel Hogan. I know because I was about to go to sleep. And I wasn't drunk either, I think."

"Alright, Schultz. I'll level with you."

Schultz held up a finger.

"You know what? Forget it. As long as I don't have to shovel manure anymore, I want to know nothing. Nothing!"

Hogan shrugged.

"Fine, Schultz. If that's the way you want it."

With that, Hogan swept into the barracks, where the rest of the team sulked on their bunks, massaging sore backsides. Carter propped himself beside the window, staring forlornly at the empty compound.

"It just isn't the same without them, Colonel."

"They were only 'ere for two days. Don't tell me you got attached that quickly," Newkirk said.

"Carter's right," Kinch replied. "It was kind of nice hearing them nicker every now and then."

"I agree," said LeBeau, "and they made the camp smell better, too."

The prisoners shared a chuckle at this. Hogan headed for his office, but Kinch's voice turned him around.

"Oh, Colonel, we got a message from London. The cargo arrived safely this morning."

"Good to hear."

"Two missions in one," said LeBeau. "I guess that makes this our two hundredth mission."

"Hey," Carter piped, "We could make this a regular thing. You know, rescuing animals in distress and shipping them off to London."

"Oh, lovely," Newkirk grumbled. "I can see it now. A bunch of POW's chasing goats through the woods."

As he spoke, he elbowed Carter in the ribs, hitting something solid. Before Carter could respond, Newkirk shoved his fingers into the sergeant's pocket and pulled out an old horseshoe.

"Carter," he scolded, "where did you get this?"

"That? It came off Maybelle."

"Maybelle?"

"Don't tell me you gave that horse a name," LeBeau snickered.

"Of course, I did! When this war's over, how do you expect me to track down a horse with no name, huh?"

Newkirk patted him on the shoulder.

"Sure, Andrew. I'll be sure to add Maybelle and all her lovely friends to my little black book."