Chapter 15 --- Hogan's Hardest Job
Alone in the barracks again, Hogan paused to catch his breath. Hanging his head, he shook it sadly. Carter noticed it and put a hand on Hogan's shoulder.
"Colonel? You okay?" he asked gently.
Hogan glanced over his shoulder at his young sergeant with a faint smile on his face. "I'm okay, Carter. Really. I just wish that...." he didn't finish.
"You wish what, sir?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter anymore anyway."
"Sure it does, Colonel," Carter replied. "If it's important to you, then it matters. Tell me."
Hogan sighed wearily. "I just wish I didn't have to write the letter I have to write. I hate that part of my job."
"Letter? What letter? Oh...." Carter didn't finish his sentence when it dawned on him what letter his commanding officer was talking about.
Hogan made his way to the table and sat down. Carter poured a cup of lukewarm coffee and handed it to the Colonel. "Want me to have Kinch bring Randall out?"
"Thanks for the coffee. Yeah. Go ahead."
Carter walked towards Hogan's quarters and knocked on the door. Kinch opened it and looked out. Carter could see Randall seated on the lower bunk in the background.
"The Colonel wants to see Sergeant Randall."
Kinch nodded. Looking back at Randall, he held the door open wide. "The Colonel wants to speak with you, Randall."
Randall quietly got to his feet and exited the room with Kinch behind him. The two men seated themselves at the table.
"I apologize for my behavior outside, Colonel," Randall began sheepishly. "But when I overheard that Sergeant Mitchell might be responsible for Captain Davidson's death, I just sort of lost my head. I couldn't help myself. It won't happen again, Colonel."
Hogan looked at Randall with sympathy. "I understand why you behaved as you did, Sergeant. But do you realize what almost happened out there? If those guards had opened fire people could have been injured or worse. There could have been a full-scale riot out there. I, as the senior officer here cannot allow that to happen. If you need to be alone with your feelings for awhile, I can let you go below to a seldom used portion of the tunnels we have for just these sort of occurances where one of us goes to be alone with our thoughts. But I will not condone violence under any circumstances."
"I understand, Colonel. And thank you. I might just take you up on that offer."
"Under the circumstances, I will forego any type of punishment. May I also suggest you try staying away from Sergeant Mitchell. There is no proof he did anything wrong despite how it may look."
"I understand, sir. I will do that. Thank you."
Hogan looked at the Sergeant. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he smiled warmly. "Why don't you go outside for awhile. I need to speak with Sergeant Mitchell."
"Yes, sir. Colonel, when you speak with Sergeant Mitchell, could you tell him I'm sorry I attacked him." He slowly got to his feet.
"If that's what you want."
"For now anyway, it's what I must do. But, if it's later proven he did do it, I'm telling you now, Colonel Hogan, I'll kill him!"
"Sergeant, if it's proven that Sergeant Mitchell is guilty, I will not permit you or anyone else to commit cold-blooded murder for the sake of revenge. If he's guilty, he will be punished through the proper channels. Understood?"
Randall swallowed. "Yes, sir." He then turned and left the barracks. Hogan, Carter and Kinch watched him leave. Then, Kinch faced Hogan.
"Think he'll do what you advised, Colonel?"
Hogan took a drink of coffee. "I hope so, Kinch." He sighed again. "Kinch, have Newkirk and LeBeau bring Mitchell up from the tunnels."
"Right, Colonel." Kinch, getting up, made his way to the double bunk in the corner and struck the hidden mechanism. After the bunk raised and the ladder lowered, he yelled down the opening for Newkirk. The Englander appeared below and looked up at the radioman.
"You call me, Kinch me mate?"
"Yeah. The Colonel wants to speak with Mitchell right now."
"Tell the Gov'nor LeBeau and I will make sure he's there in two shakes."
Carter looked at Hogan who was silent and staring into space. "Colonel, do you think Mitchell is guilty?"
"I don't know, Carter. I must admit the evidence against him is circumstancial and doesn't prove anything. But right now, I don't consider Mitchell our biggest problem."
"You don't? " Carter asked with narrowed eyes, confusion evident on his young face. "Then what is?"
Hogan looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Major Von Strasser. I've never met anyone like him before. He's unpredictable. At least with Hochstetter you knew you were going to be tortured and what methods the Gestapo were going to use. But this guy. I just don't know. But we definitely have to do something about him and soon."
Just then, Kinch, Newkirk and LeBeau approached the table with Mitchell between them. Kinch motioned for him to sit down while they stood watch behind him. The three of them weren't leaving him alone with the Colonel as long as they were suspicious.
Mitchell swallowed hard as Hogan's brown eyes bore into him. "Colonel, let me say it again. I did not do anything. It's true I was in the area of the motorpool, but that's all. I didn't do anything. I was just taking a walk by myself around the compound. There's no harm in that, is there?"
"No there isn't, Sergeant. Providing that's all you were doing, " Hogan replied. "Now, Sergeant, I'm going to tell you the same thing I just told Sergeant Randall. I will not condone any violence that could lead to the guards to start shooting. What happened out there in the compound nearly caused a riot and people could have been hurt or worse. I will not stand for it. As the senior officer here I'm in charge of making certain my men behave themselves. I cannot, and will not allow that kind of action to take place again. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I promise it won't happen again."
"It better not or I will personally punish the guilty party myself. Now, Sergeant Randall wanted me to tell you he's sorry for what happened out there. But as I told him, I'm telling you. I think it would be wise for both of you to avoid each other. Now I realize that may be difficult considering we all live together. But both of you will have to try. If you can't then I will request one of you be transferred to another barracks. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. But, Colonel, if you...."
"I said do you understand?" Hogan's face darkened. His eyes hardened.
"Yes, sir. I understand."
Hogan's face softened a bit. "Good."
Mitchell started to get up. "Am I excused, sir?" His sneer when saying 'sir' didn't escape Hogan or the others. The Colonel, however, ignored it.
"Just one more thing before you go, Sergeant. Right now, because you're under suspicion, I am ordering you confined to the barracks for now."
"You can't do that, Colonel! You have no bloody right!" He yelled jumping up and stood over Hogan. However, Kinch put a warning hand on Mitchell's arm. Mitchell looked around at the men and saw the same warning look on their faces. Swallowing, he slowly sat down. "Sorry, sir."
"That's all, Sergeant. You're dismissed."
"Yes, sir!!!" Mitchell snapped getting up and then flopped down on his bunk with hands clasped behind his head, sulking.
Hogan and the others watched him for a long moment. Finally, Hogan finished his coffee and grabbed his crutches before getting to his feet. He headed in the direction of his quarters. His men all looked at each other.
"Colonel, are you all right?" asked LeBeau. "Is there something we can do?"
"I wish you could, LeBeau," Hogan replied, turning. "But I'm afraid I have to do this job myself, and I don't enjoy doing it. No commander does." He walked inside his quarters and closed the door.
Hogan sat at his desk in his quarters with his head in his hands, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He glanced around his tiny room at all the balled up pieces of paper in his wastebasket, on the desk and on the floor. He hated having to write a letter of condolence to anybody's family.
When he was Commander of the 504th bomb group, he recalled having to write such letters when one of his crew was killed while on a mission. It was one of those jobs no amount of training could ever prepare him for.
How could a person ever prepare to tell people you've never met that their son was deceased? Damn if I know what to say, Hogan told himself. I hate this part of being a commanding officer. I just hate it! No amount of words I give can take away from a parents' grief at a moment like this. What do I say to these people? How do I say it?
Putting pen to paper, Hogan began writing....
'Dear Mr & Mrs Davidson...
You don't know me, but....'
Hogan suddenly crumpled that letter and threw it on the floor. He couldn't think straight right now. He couldn't get his thoughts together much less organized. He began again. After a few moments he balled that page up and tossed it aside.
Leaning back in his chair, Hogan rubbed his face with both hands and then slowly got up. Walking to the window, he opened it and stared out into the now empty compound. How can I sum up a man I've only known for a few days? What can I....
Just then there was a knock on his door. Hogan turned away from the window.
"Come in."
The door opened and Kinch came in carrying a cup of hot coffee. He handed it to Hogan who accepted it gratefully.
"I thought you might need it," he said. "How's the letter to Davidson's family coming?"
Hogan motioned to the wastebasket, his desk and the floor. "Take your pick," he replied. 'Kinch, I don't know what to say to these people. I'm at a complete loss this time. I mean, I've written these letters before. I should know what to say." He took a drink of the hot brew.
Kinch sat down on the bunk. He folded his arms. "What makes this one so different from others you've had to do, Colonel?"
Hogan sat on the window sill and faced his radioman. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I really didn't get a chance to know him that well. I mean, he was only here for a few days."
"Okay, that's true. But, Colonel, you've always been a pretty good judge of character. You know what you liked about the captain and what you thought about him. Why don't you just draw on what you do know instead of wracking your brains trying to find something."
Hogan gave Kinch one of his lopsided grins. "Thanks, Kinch. I can always count on you to be the voice of reason."
"Thank you, Colonel." Kinch looked at his watch. "I'd better get going and let you get back to your letter. By the way, I'll be glad to proofread it for you afterwards if you want."
"Thanks, Kinch. I appreciate it."
Once Kinch was gone, Hogan sat back down and picked up his pen again and began to write. After about an hour, he laid his pen down and looked at what he had written. It read as followed:
'Dear Mr. & Mrs. Davidson
It is with deepest regret and sympathy that I have to inform you that your son was killed in action while saving the life of another soldier. Although he was a prisoner of war, his actions were selfless and heroic. Mrs. Davidson, in the short time I knew your son, I had grown to respect him and his dedication to defending our country. He spoke of you both often and with great pride.
Captain Ronald Davidson will be greatly missed here, as I know he will be in your hearts also. My deepest sympathies to your great loss. If I can offer any assistance, please feel free to contact me.
Sincerely,
Colonel Robert E. Hogan, USAAC
Senior POW Stalag 13'
Hogan appeared to be satified with what he had written. He was about to sign it when someone knocked on his door.
"Come in."
The door opened and Kinch walked in. "I'm going down the tunnel and try to contact General Brennan again. Do you want anything before I go?"
Hogan handed Kinch the finished letter. "Tell me what you think."
The radioman quickly read what Hogan had written. He smiled as he handed it back to Hogan. "I wouldn't change a word, Colonel. It's perfect the way it is."
"You think so?" asked Hogan. "I feel like I should say something else. Maybe write another letter instead. It just doesn't say enough, Kinch."
"Colonel, That letter says what had to be said just right. There's no good way to tell a parent their son has died. If my parents received a letter like the one you wrote, I believe they would know that the man who wrote it cared about me as a person and was just as affected by my death as they would be. I wouldn't change a word. Not one word."
Hogan smiled faintly. "I trust your judgement, Kinch. I'll leave it as it is." Hogan signed the letter, folded it and stuck it in an envelope. He made sure the enclose the dogtags before he sealed the envelope. "I'll get the address so Schultz can make sure it goes out in tomorrow's mail." He looked up at Kinch. "Thanks, Kinch. I mean it."
"You're welcome. Oh, Colonel. Make sure your mic's plugged in, just in case I can reach the general." With that said, Kinch left the room and headed towards down the tunnel entrance.
Hogan plugged in the microphone. Then, he leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Right now I hate this place, he told himself.