"I cannot believe you are making me do this, Colonel Hogan."
Corporal Karl Langenscheidt was stumbling down the darkened road into Hammelburg, wheeling a huge cart packed to the brim with five potato sacks in front of him. One of them jolted as the cart hit a small dent in the road, and the others groaned.
"Carter? What did we tell you about 'olding still for one bloody mile?"
"Boy, I am sorry Newkirk. I guess I haven't had much experience in contortion before."
"Really? Me old mum threw me into the Thames in a radish sack when I was three years old to see if I was a witch, you know. It's what 'appens to all the little kiddies back 'ome."
"You're serious?"
"No! Now shut up!"
"Hey, give the kid a break, Newkirk. After all, you're the one who ordered the sacks two sizes too small."
"In defense of Pierre, it is almost entirely impossible to order five human-sized potato sacks over a half-broken radio set. And who's fault would that be?"
"Please be quiet!" Langenscheidt hissed through gritted teeth. The bags went silent again, and the cart continued to trundle down the road. "I will never live this down."
"You'll never tell anyone" the first bag announced, "will you?"
"No. Now, Colonel-I mean, potato sack, I must ask you to be quiet. There is a checkpoint ahead."
"Alright, you heard the man. Hold it." The sacks grumbled into uneasy silence.
Langenscheidt sighed in relief, nervousness coursing through his veins as he removed his papers with a shaky hand. The two guards were both broad-shouldered, stocky men who looked like they could take a meek corporal like him with one finger.
"Papers" the first one barked, with not so much as a glance towards the contents of the wagon. Langenscheidt nodded in silent affirmation. Maybe they wouldn't even check. Maybe they'd just let him through. After all, Colonel Hogan had assured him that nothing would go wrong...
Then, the phone in the sentry box rang. The second guard walked purposely towards it, leaving Langenscheidt and the first alone. The corporal laughed apologetically, and the first guard appeared to scan him, looking him up and down. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, the guard gave a gesture that signalled he was in the clear.
"You can pass."
Karl thanked the guard quickly, taking his papers and beginning his walk onwards.
"Halt!"
There was an unnerving click as the guard who had been taking the phone call had hung up in the sentry box. He marched decisively back towards the cart.
"Run them through."
"What?"
"Run them through, dummkopf! Are you deaf? New orders!"
"Jawohl." The first guard pulled his bayonet from his belt, and Langenscheidt drew back immediately.
"No, I can't let you do that" he said suddenly, hoping the urgency in his voice wasn't too obvious.
"Why not? If it's a few potatoes, Corporal, we should find nothing of significance!"
"No, no...they're not potatoes..."
"Well, what are they, then?"
Langenscheidt drew himself up. Both guards had drawn pistols, the first along with his bayonet. He was in legitimate danger. That's what Hogan had said, right? Legitimate danger?
"They are not potatoes. They are...priceless paintings and artefacts. On their way to Heinrich Himmler, no less. You know how he likes his...well, his priceless paintings and artefacts."
"Really?" The first guard had a quizzical expression as he tilted his head to get a better look at the sacks. "I know art is subjective, but they don't look like priceless paintings and artefacts to me."
"That's because they aren't priceless paintings and artefacts, dummkopf!" The second guard began to approach Langenscheidt, his pistol aiming straight for the corporal's chest. "What are they? What artefacts are they, then? If you're so sure of yourself?"
Langenscheidt gave a nervous laugh that he hoped came across as a sense of confidence. "Classic fairy tale items, would you believe. Illustrations by the Brothers Grimm themselves. I believe the most famous is that of Papa Bear."
As he said those two words, the corporal levelled his rifle and stepped behind the cart. The guards had no time to think before the sacks were ripped open, and out flew several unruly prisoners of war. Langenscheidt mainly let the allies do the work, however he couldn't resist throwing a quick punch in the direction of the second guard, who fell over backwards in a rather satisfying manner. The first guard had already been taken care of and lay in a heap in the doorway of the sentry box.
"Great work, Langenscheidt!" Hogan said in approval as he clambered to his feet, a satisfied grin on his face. "Bit of a slow run-up, but an effective ending. What do you say, men?"
"Blimey, 'e's a natural".
"C'est magnifique!"
"I didn't think he was on the other side, not for a minute".
"Great, Karl!"
Langenscheidt grinned in appreciation, and watched as the two guards rose, dusting themselves off.
"The accent is effective" the first approved. "And he is, by all intents and purposes, a German. He could certainly fool a patrol."
"Even the leaders love you, Langenscheidt. You're a hit." Hogan clapped the German corporal on the back. "Right. Let's go from the top. And this time, make it perfect! Alright, people, back in the cart. And no wriggling this time, Carter."
It has been a grand total of four years since I posted last on here. In that time, I have acquired the entire box set of the show and am halfway through watching it again, obviously, I started making Hogan's Heroes memes on Instagram (nobody_escapes), and I still love the show just as much now as I did then. I also hope my writing style has improved a bit. This is not something you will see here, however, as I rediscovered this story I wrote a long while ago the other day and have only tweaked it a little. Still, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! (I have also fixed the scene change indicators in my last two uploads so they now actually read well and not like one big run on sentence.) :)