Chapter 3 --- Sergeant Carter Randall, US ARMY

Sergeant Randall sat on the bunk against the wall across from Andrew Carter. He had unpacked all his belongings and stored them in the footlocker assigned to him. He wondered how Captain Davidson was doing as he hadn't seen him since the Captain was assigned to share Colonel Hogan's quarters.

He had never met anybody like Colonel Hogan before. He seemed friendly enough, and despite using crutches, he still seemed quite sure of himself and a bit cocky. But weren't all officers a bit cocky? Not Captain Davidson. He was 'one of the guys' as far as Randall was concerned. The Sergeant was about to lay down on his bunk when the Englander wearing a blue RAF uniform approached and sat down beside him.

"Smoke, mate?" he asked holding out his pack of cigarettes to Randall who took one.

"Thanks. Newkirk, isn't it?" he asked leaning over as Newkirk held out a lit match. He released a cloud of smoke after taking a long drag.

"That's me name all right," Newkirk replied cheerfully. "I believe you're Sergeant Randall?"

"Sergeant Carter Randall, US Army Air Corps. Tell me something, Newkirk. What's Colonel Hogan like? I mean, I've never met anybody like him before."

Newkirk raised both eyebrows. "The Gov'nor? He's the real deal, mate. In other words, he's the best commanding officer a bloke could ask for. In fact, he's the first officer I respect. And I've seen a lot of commanding officers in my time who aren't worth the insignias on their uniforms. Besides, I have no use for officers. They're a bloody waste. But not Colonel Hogan. Why do you ask?"

Randall shrugged. "I don't know. Guess I'm curious. What happened to him? I noticed he uses crutches. Did he get injured when he was shot down?"

Newkirk shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, it's kinda my fault. See, I tried to escape using a tunnel I had dug that wasn't safe and the Colonel and me mate, Carter, tried to stop me. There was a cave-in and both of them got hurt. But the Gov'nor got the worst of it. He injured his back and was paralyzed below the waist. He was in a wheelchair for about a year." Newkirk hung his head. "I still feel bad about what happened. Colonel Hogan didn't deserve what happened to him. But he's walking again even if it's with crutches."

Randall took another drag on his cigarette. "Sounds like a remarkable man."

"The Colonel's the best. He looks out for his men. So if you have a problem, just let the Gov'nor know. He'll speak up for you and run interference for you with the Krauts." Newkirk let out a deep breath. "Now how about you? How'd you end up in our little sewer?"

Randall chuckled. "I was assigned to the 482nd Bomb Group. I was a gunner for Captain Davidson. He's a great guy. We were returning from dropping a couple of surprises over Dusseldorff when we were hit by enemy fire. The captain somehow managed to crash land us in a field somewhere." He smirked. "The lousy Krauts were on us before we even got out of the plane."

"Blimey," said Newkirk, stunned. "That's bloody tough."

"What made it so bad was that Captain Davidson and I might have been able to escape if it hadn't been for that lousy Kraut patrol showing up when they did."

"What about the rest of your crew?" asked Newkirk.

"Don't know. Captain Davidson and I were the only ones caught and ended up here. I hope the rest of the crew made it back."

Newkirk nodded sympathetically while at the same time studying Randall. He noticed the Sergeant was shifting his eyes from him to the Colonel and back. Knowing Randall seemed to be intently watching Hogan made Newkirk uncomfortable. Normally Newkirk and the others would watch Hogan's back. But as the Colonel was on crutches, Newkirk felt extra watching was necessary by everyone.

The Englander smiled faintly. He already knew what happened to the rest of Davidson's crew from Kinch. But there was no way he could tell the young Sergeant without arousing suspicion as to where he got the information. "Just take it easy. If there's anything you need just let me or someone know." Newkirk patted Randall on the leg and, getting up, started to walk away when Randall's voice stopped him. He turned. "You want something, mate?"

"It's not that big a deal, really, Newkirk. I'm just curious. You called Colonel Hogan Gov'nor several times. What does that mean?"

"Gov'nor? It's a mark of respect, mate, for someone who I feel is both genuine and honorable."

"And you feel Colonel Hogan is both?"

"There's no doubt in me mind whatsoever. I told you, the Colonel's the real deal." Newkirk smiled again. "We'll talk again later. Take it easy." He turned and left. Randall watched the Englander pour himself a cup of coffee and sit down at the table with Hogan and the others.

Now left alone, Randall lay down on his assigned bunk, smoking his cigarette. Occasionally, he let his eyes land on Hogan who was sitting at the long table drinking a cup of coffee and laughing with several other men. One he thought was the Frenchman, LeBeau and the other was the one known as Kinch. But it was Hogan that held his attention most of all. Randall's eyes narrowed as he studied Hogan closely. He recalled the last time he was called into his commanding officer's office just before he and Davidson were to take off on their last mission. He was shown Hogan's photo. It was then he was stunned when his commanding officer gave him instructions as to what he was to do when he met Hogan in person.

Randall didn't understand why his commander wanted him to do what he was telling him to do. But one doesn't question those in charge even if they didn't understand or agree with the orders. Randall then took a long drag on his cigarette. He told himself he was to follow this set of orders no matter how much he didn't understand or agree with them. After all, an order was an order.