I finally got chapter three finished...argh! I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I started this story! LOL I'm having fun writing it; though. Hope you like it! (And I'd update more often if I could; I just can't write that fast!) But please don't worry; I have every intention of finishing this story!
Chapter 3
Kinch was monitoring the radio down in the main section of the tunnel, just below their barracks, when he heard a noise coming from the direction of the emergency exit. He removed his headphones and stood up; just in time to see LeBeau and Carter appear.
"Hey, Kinch!" Carter greeted him, "We're back!"
"I can see that," Kinch replied, an amused expression on his face, "Any problems?"
"You mean other than Carter's mouth?" LeBeau retorted, shooting a dirty look at the young Sergeant.
"You're just mad because you didn't get to spend more time with Gretchen!" Carter shot back angrily. He was fed up with LeBeau's insults.
"Well maybe I could have, if you would have left us alone!" LeBeau yelled, forced to admit that Carter was right.
"And how was I supposed to do that, Louie?" Carter countered, raising his voice in response. "The Colonel told us to stick together, remember?"
"Hold it, hold it!" Kinch shouted, interrupting their argument. When he had their attention he asked, "Who's Gretchen?"
"She's the contact we met," Carter answered, "You know, 'Snow White'? And boy, is she pretty! I think Louie's in love!" He smiled, looking smugly at LeBeau.
"Oh, how would you know?" LeBeau huffed, "You were too busy talking!"
"All right," Kinch cut in, tired of listening to them argue, "The important thing is, did you get the pictures of the tanks?"
"Oh boy, did we ever!" Carter replied enthusiastically.
"Well, why don't you get started processing the film," Kinch told him, "Then when the Colonel and Newkirk get back, it'll be ready."
"Yeah, okay," Carter said, taking the camera out from under his jacket and heading toward their makeshift darkroom.
LeBeau decided he could use some time alone. "I'll go start on lunch," he announced, then headed up the ladder into the barracks.
Carter was almost to the tunnel that led to the darkroom, when he suddenly turned back and looked at Kinch. "Hey, Kinch?' He asked, "Do you think Colonel Hogan and Newkirk are okay?"
"I'm sure they're fine, Andrew," Kinch answered reassuringly, "They're probably on their way back right now. Don't worry." Kinch had learned a long time ago that it was pointless to worry until there was a reason to. Of course, that didn't stop him from worrying anyway!
"Well, I'll sure feel better when they get back." Carter replied, and then left to go to work on the film.
Kinch went back to the radio and sat down. As he put his headphones on, he thought to himself, Me, too!
Hogan was staring at the look of surprise on Newkirk's face. Did he just say what I think he just said? "Newkirk, are you all right?" He asked, concerned.
"Who are you callin' 'Newkirk', mate?" Newkirk answered, staring back at Hogan in confusion. "And you still 'aven't told me who you are, have you?"
"You're joking, right?" Hogan said, his concern growing. Please tell me you're joking!
"Now why would I be jokin' about a thing like that?" Newkirk responded, looking at Hogan like he had a few screws loose.
"I'm Colonel Hogan…don't you remember?"
"Sorry mate, never 'eard of you," Newkirk stated matter-of-factly. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, wincing in pain. "Say," he added, "You wouldn't 'appen to know how I got this lump on me head, now, would you?"
Hogan was becoming extremely worried; how could Newkirk forget who he was? And then it suddenly dawned on him: that blow to Newkirk's head; it must have triggered amnesia! Well, this is all we needed! Hogan thought, frustrated, then immediately felt guilty; after all, it was his fault for knocking Newkirk down in the first place. I've got to get him back to camp; have Wilson check him out, Hogan decided. Besides, he knew if the patrol came back, he'd have a lot more to worry about than Newkirk's memory!
"Newkirk, we need to get out of here," Hogan told him, ignoring his question for now, "Do you think you can stand up?"
"Now look, let's get one thing straight, shall we, mate? My name's not 'Newkirk', it's…" A curious expression appeared on Newkirk's face as he searched his brain, frantically trying to recall who he was. But his mind was a blank. "Blimey!" He exclaimed, a worried expression crossing his face, "I can't seem to remember me own name!"
Hogan was starting to realize how difficult and frightening this must be for his poor Corporal. "Hey, it's all right," he responded gently, "Why don't you tell me what you do remember?"
"Just wakin' up in this ruddy forest with a pain in me head, and seeing you sittin' there." Newkirk answered, his voice revealing a note of fear.
"Well, I can tell you your name," Hogan offered, "It's Peter Newkirk."
Newkirk looked at him, suddenly growing suspicious. "And just how would you know that, mate?"
"Because we, uh, work together," Hogan replied. "Look," he continued, still anxious about the German patrol coming back, "We really do need to get moving. I'll explain everything on the way, okay?" Hogan stood up and reached down to help Newkirk to his feet.
Newkirk just sat there, eyeing Hogan warily. "Where are we going?" He asked finally.
"Someplace safe," Hogan answered, "You're just gonna have to trust me."
Newkirk was still not convinced. "You're not tryin' to pull the wool over me eyes, are you?"
"I promise, I'm telling the truth." Hogan replied in a reassuring voice.
Newkirk wanted to believe him. After all, what else could he do? He studied Hogan's face, looking for any sign of deception, but found none. "Guess I'll have to trust you then," he responded, "I don't seem to 'ave much of a choice, do I?"
Newkirk reached up and accepted the outstretched hand. As he stood up, a wave of nausea and dizziness passed through him, and he swayed a little on his feet. He grabbed Hogan's arm to steady himself, when suddenly he turned his head away, and promptly deposited the contents of his stomach all over the forest floor.
Hogan knew what that meant…Newkirk had a concussion! Now more than ever he needed to get Newkirk back as quickly as possible.
At last the dizziness and nausea subsided. Newkirk let go of Hogan's arm, and straightened up. "I'm all right now," he said, and then looked apologetically at Hogan. "Sorry about that, mate...um, what did you say your name was, again?"
"It's Hogan. Colonel Hogan."
"Hogan Colonel Hogan? That's quite an odd name you 'ave there, ain't it?"
"No, no," Hogan said, mentally slapping his forehead, "It's…look, why don't you just call me Hogan?"
"That does sound a bit easier." Newkirk replied. "Well, Hogan, suppose now you tell me what we're doin' out here in this bleedin' forest? And just where are we, anyway? Oh, and while you're about it, how did I get this ruddy bump on me head? And how is it you…"
"Hold on there, Newkirk!" Hogan interrupted, and then grinned at him. "I'll be happy to answer all of your questions; but first, let's get going, shall we?" He motioned toward the direction that led back to camp.
As they started their trek through the woods, Hogan breathed a big sigh: Where do I start? "Well," he began, "You already know your name is Newkirk. You're a Corporal in the R.A.F…"
"The R.A.F.?"
"The Royal Air Force. It's based in London…do you know what London is?"
"Of course I know what London is! It's a city, isn't it? A city in…in…"
"England."
"Right, England. Is that where you're from, Hogan?"
"No, I'm from America. I'm a Colonel in the United States Army Air Corps, although I was stationed in London before I ended up here."
"And where's 'here'?"
"Germany."
"Let me see if I've got this straight. I'm from England and you're from America, and we're in Germany? So what are we doin' here, and how is it we're working together?"
"Well, you see, there's this war on…"
Hogan proceeded to tell Newkirk about the war; that they'd been shot down over Germany while on their own respective missions, and they were both prisoners in a POW camp. He went on to explain what they'd been doing for the past several years, some of the missions they'd been on, who Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau were, and anything else that he thought might jog Newkirk's memory. As they neared Stalag 13, he stopped and turned to look at Newkirk, who had grown quiet over the past several minutes.
"Well, Hogan," Newkirk said at last, "That's quite a tale you've just told me! I must say, I'm finding it a bit hard to believe."
"It is rather incredible, isn't it?" Hogan replied, suddenly realizing how all this must have sounded to Newkirk. "Trust me, if the situation was reversed, I'd have a hard time believing it, myself!"
"So what now, Hogan?" Newkirk asked, surveying the area of woods that they were standing in. "Are we gettin' close to your camp?"
"It's your camp, too," Hogan answered, wondering how Newkirk was going to react when he got inside, "And yes, we're close. From here on in, we have to be as quiet as possible. Ready? Follow me."
Hogan moved stealthily through the woods, making sure that Newkirk was right behind him. As they approached Stalag 13, he crept up to a large tree stump and crouched down, motioning Newkirk to come up next to him and do the same.
As Newkirk moved to the stump, he caught a glimpse of the camp, and instantly froze at what he saw. There were several long buildings, surrounded by a high fence that stretched as far as he could see in both directions. The fence had thick rolls of barbed wire running along the top. There were also two or three tall towers within his field of vision that were spaced evenly along the outside of the fence. But what scared him the most were the dozens of men that he could see, walking back and forth; carrying machine guns!
Newkirk just stood there, unable to move, when Hogan suddenly darted out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him behind the tree stump.
"That's a good way to get yourself caught…or shot!" Hogan whispered fiercely at him.
"Blimey…" Newkirk breathed out quietly, and then looked at Hogan. "You've been tellin' me the truth this whole time, 'aven't you? I thought you were pullin' me leg!"
"I wish I had been," Hogan replied, keeping his voice low, "Look, we're at the emergency entrance to one of our tunnels that I told you about. I need you to go in first, and I'll follow. We'll be safe once we get inside. Okay?"
Newkirk once again looked at Hogan like he was off his nut. "You want me to go in there?" He asked incredulously, pointing toward Stalag 13, "You must be daft!"
Hogan looked back; a strange intensity emanating from him. "Trust me!" he said, pleading with his eyes for Newkirk to do just that.
Newkirk stared at him for a moment or two. At last he let out a huge sigh of resignation and replied, "All right, mate, I'll trust you. Where's this tunnel of yours?"
Hogan smiled. "It's right in front of you!" He reached up and opened the top of the tree stump, revealing a large hole leading straight down, with a ladder along the side.
Newkirk's eyes opened wide. "What, 'ave you got ruddy gophers workin' for you?" He exclaimed in amazement.
"Yeah," Hogan chuckled, "And they all wear uniforms!"
"You really want me to go down there?"
"Yes."
"And you'll be right behind me?"
"Yes, now go…quickly, before the guards find us!"
Newkirk got up and climbed into the stump. He took one last look at Hogan, opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it. Can't believe I'm doin' this! He thought, shaking his head, and reluctantly climbed down to the tunnel below.
Hogan waited until Newkirk was clear, and then followed after, closing the top of the tree stump on his way down. A thought popped into his brain, and he couldn't help smiling: Newkirk's in for one hell-of-a surprise!
7