Breakfast was a wonderful gruel, spiced sparingly but perfectly. Or so LeBeau told him. He hadn't served just yet. Kinchloe listened to the sparse chatter and unenthusiastic, hollow bangs of coffeepot and tin cups, pot and spoon, and realized the morning had hardly lightened the mood. Kinchloe, along with everyone else, was getting prepared for another day of nothing happening. Of darkness and boredom and worry. At least he could look forward to breakfast.
But before he could accept the delicious-smelling dish, he heard someone say, "Hey, Hogan's got Newkirk out early!" Kinchloe had a moment to wonder how he knew that—maybe they were peeking out the door?—before LeBeau shoved a bowl and spoon into his hands, saying, "Sacré bleu! I forgot to hide his cards." There was general chaos in the barracks, and Kinchloe wondered how many things people had to hide from the Englishman, his possessions or theirs. Regardless, when he came in, there was general pleasantness, everyone welcoming him back amiably. At least for the first few seconds. Then they must have gotten a look at him. It went quiet, and LeBeau spoke first.
"Oh, Newkirk."
Kinchloe heard a bunk creak. "I got Kohler assigned to me cell, 'at's all."
"Newkirk, you must stop sending in your application for camp punching bag." The joke fell flat, partially due to LeBeau's tone.
"Let's get a look at you," Minsk puffed, seeming resigned.
"'m fine," the Englishman grumbled. Kinchloe heard people moving about. Then suddenly, he had the feeling someone was looking at him. "'ey look. It's me old mate. You know I finally thought of what to call you while I was sitting in that marvelous think tank, the cooler. I just didn't think I'd be able to use it. Kinch. Nice an' simple. I'm gonna call you Kinch."
"Better than 'old fellow.'"
"I thought you would say that. Ow! Watch it with the iodine." It sounded like everyone was getting back to their business, a few still welcoming Newkirk, and apparently a few paying off debts from a recent card game. Newkirk kept speaking with Kinchloe. "Say, why are you still stuck in camp, then? We got trouble with Gestapo patrols, Colonel?"
"Nope," said Hogan.
"My vision hasn't come back."
"Oh. I'm sorry, mate. Kinch."
"Are you sure you're okay?" asked LeBeau. "You look pale."
"Well you might if you'd been living off the poor excuse for bread they serve in the cooler."
"Get him some food," murmured the Colonel.
"One step ahead of you, mon Colonel."
"Kohler, you say?" Hogan now asked Newkirk.
"Think I'd misidentify, Colonel? 'Some reason, that kraut doesn't rub me right."
"He punches you right," mumbled LeBeau.
"That 'e does," growled Newkirk, surprising Kinchloe with the sudden change from, apparently, mock inconvenience to downright loathing.
"We've got to take care of him," ascertained Hogan. "He's the last one." And suddenly, Kinchloe noticed the whole atmosphere had changed. They were back in some sort of groove and the wheels were turning again.
"The last one?" Kinch asked, hoping to keep up with the conversation.
"Kohler is the only guard left that has been here just as long as Newkirk, and that was near the beginning," LeBeau told him.
"Let's suffice it to say we don' 'ave the best track record," Newkirk said. "Ow! Lay off!"
Kinch couldn't help but wonder if the trouser prank had happened to Kohler, but now was not the time to ask. He needed to do something.
"Newkirk?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry I got you caught."
"Oh, don't worry, mate. Comes with the territory."
"I mean you didn't have to come after us, or do any of the dangerous things you're doing with a radio and all. You got captured. You should be sitting out the war."
"We're doing this to make sure not everyone captured has to sit out the war," said Hogan.
"That's great, but... it just doesn't seem right you'd be doing something so dangerous."
"Hey. You got four o' your crew saved in exchange for me in the cooler for a few days. Fair trade, I think."
"And..." He hesitated. "Beaten up?"
"Oh, that's nothin'. I'm used to it. Ask LeBeau. It was comin' eventually."
"It generally does," LeBeau affirmed.
"Which doesn't mean we like it," said the Colonel.
"That's just a bruise," Newkirk mumbled unhappily to whoever his assigned nurse was. "You can quit now."
The ladder squeaked as it came up.
"Hey, Colonel," said Minsk.
"Yeah?"
"Underground just made contact. They ran into an issue with those guns."
"Really?"
"What happened?"
"Apparently they got the bombs in place, but couldn't get them set."
"So what? What's it got to do with us?" complained Newkirk.
"They want us to set them."
"What?"
"What are we? Maids to clean up after 'em?"
"Why can't they go back and set them?"
"They'll be recognized if they go again. It'll draw suspicion. And the timer only sets for half an hour. They don't think they'll be able to get out in time, especially if they're delayed on suspicion."
"Isn't there anyone else in the Underground that can do it?"
"They're either laying low or busy. We aren't busy."
"Yeah, right. I got tea to make, naps to take, me life to preserve."
Suddenly, a silence fell. After a moment, Kinch had to ask what was going on, assuming he couldn't see something. "What?" he asked quietly.
"...I have an idea," Hogan said.
"What is it?" Minsk asked with some trepidation.
"You're not going to like the plan, but we can take care of Kohler and those guns at the same time."
"If we can get rid of that cochon, I'd be happy," said LeBeau.
"It's going to be difficult," Hogan said.
"Maybe not so happy," Newkirk agreed good-naturedly.
For the next fifteen minutes, they hashed out a plan. Newkirk complained loudly about having to go out and finish the Underground's job. Kinch didn't know him well enough to tell whether he really didn't want to go or wasn't feeling well enough and was trying to cover it. In any case, he managed to get out of it, being left with the radio, and Hogan, LeBeau, Minsk, and Burrows, another Englishman, were elected to view the guns and come back to tell their skeptical countrymen what German military superiority really meant.
"How will you convince the kommandant to let you do that?" asked Kinch.
"Oh, he can convince Klink," said LeBeau with full confidence.
"Really?"
"I've been working on the kommandant for awhile," said Hogan."But what about Kohler?" Minsk asked.
"We have to get Kohler to come with us. Now that I don't have a plan for. I could try some reverse psychology on Klink, but no guarantee there."
They all thought for a moment. "What if he volunteered?" suggested Kinch, surprising himself. "Would that convince the kommandant?"
"It wouldn't hurt. Did you have an idea to get him to volunteer?"
"No. Just a thought."
No one else had an immediate suggestion. Not knowing the protocol of camps or the temperament of this guard, Kinch was at a loss for how to implement his idea. Then, he thought he felt the mood in the room get darker. Newkirk spoke up.
"I know 'ow," he murmured. "Suggest to 'im I'm goin'."
"But you're not going," argued LeBeau.
"I can pretend, do a little acting job, look terrified of him. You know 'e'd love to get me alone away from camp."
Minsk's rough voice murmured, "Nothing like kicking a man when he's down for those nemtsy."
"You sure you can do it?" asked Hogan.
"I can do just about anything once to ensure it won' 'appen again," replied Newkirk.
"Hmm. Alright," said Hogan. "If you can do it, sounds like a plan. I'm gonna go work on Klink. Newkirk, go run into Kohler and spread the rumor about this visit. Hopefully you can get him volunteering while I'm still in the kommandant's office."
"Yes, sir."
They split. That was exactly what happened. He heard the play by play of Newkirk's progress from a furious LeBeau watching at the window, whom Minsk had to restrain to keep from going outside and evening the odds when the guard, apparently, kicked Newkirk. Minsk managed to calm him down to furious ranting.
"As if that were necessary! As if that were fun! As if he needed put in his place! That boche is disgusting!" Kinch marveled at the fire in the Frenchman, while feeling the same thing about Newkirk, though with a little less energy and a little more guilt involved. "There he goes, off to volunteer! He's happy," LeBeau growled. Quickly, his voice changed. "Newkirk's coming."
Kinch could feel how antsy LeBeau was trying not to open the door and usher Newkirk in. It would look set-up if Kohler were still looking. Newkirk opened the door himself. There was a brief caterwaul. Everyone seemed to talk at once in this place. They found out Newkirk was successful and perfectly fine thank you very much, LeBeau was enraged, and Minsk was generally annoyed, all while trading insults for Kohler.
"Then why are you holding your stomach?" LeBeau countered.
"He kicked me where 'e kicked me yesterday, 'at's all."
"'That's all,' he says." LeBeau rolled his eyes. "I'll be glad if you never have to do that again."
"I'll be glad if I never 'ave to do that again," Newkirk agreed with sincerity.
"You won't." Hogan's voice came in the door with him.
"You did it?" asked LeBeau.
"Did you doubt me?" He sounded amused. Not at all like an officer disgruntled by irritating, unfaithful inferiors.
"Fantastique! Now we will be rid of him once and for all, no?"
"Right. We're leaving in probably ten minutes. As soon as Klink calls ahead to the guards on the guns. We'll get there in about a half hour, set the bombs, and leave Kohler behind. You all ready to go?" There were various 'yes, sir's. "And you, Sergeant Kinchloe, will go back in the tunnels before Schultz comes in to pick us up."
There was finally a pause. Kinchloe took a breath. "You guys don't waste any time, huh?"
"Nope." He could hear the smile in the Colonel's voice.
"Absolutely right. Never get a break," Newkirk complained.