Chapter 3 -- The Meeting with The Snowman

Kinch scribbled the radio message as Colonel Robert Hogan, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk gathered around him, waiting. Besides being the Senior POW officer in Stalag 13, Hogan was a member of the underground. His code name was Papa Bear, and his band of four men were responsible for most, if not all the sabotage, espionage and rescuing of Allied prisoners in their area.

Finished, Kinch tore off the paper from his pad and handed it to Hogan who read it quickly.

"What's it say, mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau, anxiously.

"It's from the underground, code name the Snowman. He's requesting a meeting with me at 2200 hours tonight. Says he's got top secret information to pass on to me and only me."

"Why ask for just you, Colonel?" asked Carter, worried. "I mean, it sounds kinda weird to me."

"Me too," agreed Newkirk. " I don't think you should go alone. At least let one of us go with you when you meet this person. I mean, there's been a lot of Krauts in the area lately and you might run into problems."

Hogan eyed Newkirk, smiling faintly. He knew the Englander was only looking out for him. "It's not necessary, Newkirk, even though I appreciate the offer," Hogan said. "The Snowman wants to meet at the usual rendezvous place. Besides, I promise I'll be careful and be home early."

Hogan's men were not put at ease by the Colonel's words. They always worried about Hogan when he went out alone.

Hogan checked his watch. He figured he'd better get ready for his meeting.

Having changed from his uniform into black pants and a black turtleneck, Hogan was busy smearing black oil on his face from the stove in the barracks. The black oil was to camouflage his face. On the table lay his pistol. Carter was watching at the door for any signs of Schultz or Klink. The last thing Hogan needed as he was preparing to meet with a member of the underground was an interruption even though he could manipulate both Klink and Schultz easily. He just didn't have time right now. The Snowman would be waiting at the rendezvous location and Hogan didn't want to be late. Yet, there was something about tonight's meeting that troubled him. Despite the fact his contact had given him valuable information previously, Hogan's gut was telling him something was not right. Pushing this feeling deep down, he grabbed his pistol and hit the upper bed frame and looked at his men as the lower bunk went up revealing the tunnel entrance.

"I shouldn't be too late," he said. He stuffed his pistol in the back of his waistband. "And don't worry. I'll be fine." With that, Hogan disappeared down the ladder. Once he was out of sight, Kinch hit the bed frame again and watched the lower bunk drop down over the tunnel entrance. The four of them sat down at the table for what they all knew would be a nervous wait until the Colonel was back safely.

"I'd still feel better if the Colonel had let one of us go with him to this meeting," Newkirk lit a cigarette.

"Oui. So would I," LeBeau commented. "But you know how the Colonel is. Besides, he's met with this person before. I'm certain if the Colonel thought something was wrong, he would not have gone alone."

"I guess you're right, Louie," Newkirk took a long drag on his cigarette. "But it doesn't mean I won't be glad when he's back in camp."

Having quickly emerged from the tree stump outside of camp, Hogan quickly and quietly made his way through the dense brush and shrubbery until he came to a clearing near an abandoned mine. He didn't see anyone. He checked his watch. Either the Snowman was late or hiding, waiting for him to show up. Feeling edgy, Hogan reached behind him and grabbed his pistol. The uneasy feeling he had in the barracks was back again. Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound in the bushes.

"Snowman?" Hogan whispered. He raised his pistol.

"Colonel Hogan? Is that you?" A figure dressed in dark clothing stepped out into the clearing with his own pistol drawn. Hogan recognized him from before. Both men lowered their weapons.

"Are you sure you weren't followed?" asked Hogan.

"Positive. But I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."

Hogan looked around. He didn't like being out in the open like this especially with the extra German patrols out tonight, but he didn't have much of a choice.

"What have you got for me?" Hogan asked.

"The Germans are building a missile silo about 15 miles outside of town. It's nearly completed. They plan on having it operational in about a month from now. It must be destroyed before it's construction is completed."

"How's the security?"

"There's about ten guards that we could count. They rotate the guards every four hours."

Hogan listened carefully. "Okay. We should be able to destroy it inside of 72 hours. But we'll have to do something about the guards if we're to even get close enough to plant explosives. We may need extra men. Can you supply them if needed?"

"That will be no problem, Colonel. Whatever you need."

"Good. We'll contact you when we're ready and let you know." Hogan glanced around uncomfortably. "I'd better get back to camp. Klink hates it when I'm late for roll call."

"We'll be waiting. And thank you, Colonel." The Snowman extended his hand. Gripping it, he and Hogan shook hands.

"You'll hear from us in about a day or two," said Hogan, unaware of what had just happened.

"Then I'll say goodbye, Colonel. We will be waiting. But you better go." The Snowman looked around nervously.

That said, the Snowman ducked into the dense bushes and was gone. Hogan turned and disappeared in the opposite direction. Once he was out of sight, the Snowman stepped back out into the clearing. There was a sly smile on his face. The drug had been administered.

Hogan quickly made his way back to Stalag 13. Crouching down near the tree stump as the spotlight from the guard tower swept over the area, Hogan flexed his right hand. He noticed his fingers were beginning to cramp. After the spotlight passed, Hogan came out of his hiding place and raised the tree stump lid revealing a hidden ladder. He climbed inside the stump, closing the lid behind him. Climbing down the ladder, he saw LeBeau and Kinch waiting for him. Stepping off the ladder, Hogan flexed his hand again. The cramps were becoming a bit more annoying.

"How'd the meeting with the Snowman go, Colonel?" asked LeBeau.

"Okay. It seems the Krauts are building a missile silo outside of town and it's near completion. It should be operational in about a month. We'll have to knock it out before they finish it."

Kinch noticed Hogan flexing his right hand repeatedly. "You all right, Colonel? I mean, you keep flexing your right hand. Did you get hurt?"

Hogan looked at his right hand. "I'm fine. Just a cramp, I guess." He rubbed his forehead. He suddenly felt completely drained. "I'm beat. Any coffee left upstairs?"

"Newkirk made a fresh pot," Kinch said. "Nobody wanted to turn in until you had gotten back."

"You sure you want to try Newkirk's coffee, Colonel?" LeBeau remarked, arms folded, a grin on his face. "I mean, it lacks flavor, but if you're game…."

Hogan smiled. "Regardless, LeBeau, I'll still have a cup before turning in. I have some work to do in my quarters before I turn in anyway." Hogan climbed up the ladder to the barracks followed by Kinch and LeBeau. Once back in the barracks, Hogan spied Newkirk and Carter sitting at the table playing cards. They both looked around.

"Welcome back, Gov'nor," said Newkirk cheerily. He laid his cards down on the table and looked at Carter, a devious smile on his face. "Gin," he said.

Carter frowned as he tossed his cards on the table. "How'd the meeting go, Colonel?" he asked.

Hogan repeated what he had told Kinch and LeBeau . He started to grab his coffee cup from the table but found his fingers were cramping worse. He shook his hand and flexed it. His men all noticed. LeBeau took Hogan's cup and poured a full cup of coffee. He handed it to Hogan who took it in his left hand. He sat down at the table. Kinch and LeBeau joined him. Hogan stared at his right hand, puzzled.

Kinch took Hogan's hand in both of his and ran his own fingers over Hogan's hand feeling for broken bones. He didn't find any.

"You don't seem to have any broken bones and there's no sign of an injury, Colonel," he said.

"I must've sprained it somehow," Hogan replied. "I'm sure it'll be better by morning." He finished his coffee. The exhaustion was beginning to overpower him. He stood up. He staggered momentarily as a wave of dizziness overtook him. His men were quickly at his side.

"You okay, Colonel?" asked LeBeau, concerned.

"I'm not sure," Hogan replied. "I suddenly got dizzy. The last thing I need right now is to be coming down with something." He rubbed his forehead. "I just feel so exhausted."

"You have been pushing yourself of late," Kinch reminded him. "Maybe it's catching up with you."

"Perhaps you should forget about whatever work you have to do in your quarters and just turn in, Colonel," Newkirk said, worried. "You do look beat."

Hogan was too tired to argue. "I'd better clean up first." He glanced at his men and saw the concern etched on their faces. "I'm okay. Really. I've just been overdoing it of late. I'll be fine come morning. Goodnight."

That said, Hogan managed to walk to his quarters on his own and enter, closing the door behind him.

It was two hours before roll call the following day when LeBeau, Kinch, Carter and Newkirk noticed that Colonel Hogan hadn't yet appeared.

"The Colonel must still be asleep," said Carter. "He was really tired last night."

Kinch checked his watch. "Yeah, but roll call is in two hours. And frankly, I'm a bit concerned about the Colonel. The way he was flexing his right hand last night, and the dizziness he felt."

LeBeau smiled as he busily prepared breakfast. "If my cooking doesn't get him out of bed and feeling better, then nothing will."

Kinch got up. "I'll feel better knowing the Colonel's all right." Approaching Hogan's quarters, Kinch knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Again there was no answer.

"Colonel? It's Kinch. Are you all right?" Again there was no answer. Kinch exchanged worried looks with Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau.

"Something's wrong, " said Newkirk. "There's no way the Gov'nor could not have heard you."

Kinch gripped the doorknob and turned it. "Wait here," he told the others. He opened the door and entered Hogan's quarters and closed the door behind him. After a minute or two….

"LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk! Something's wrong with Colonel Hogan!" Kinch's voice could be heard despite the closed door.

The door burst open and the three men pushed their way inside to find Kinch sitting on the edge of Hogan's bunk. The Colonel was laying on his lower bunk, on his back, in his khaki shirt and brown pants, appearing to be sleeping. Kinch pressed his fingers against Hogan's neck checking for a pulse. He found none. He put his ear to Hogan's chest hoping to hear a heartbeat. Again there was nothing. Straightening up slowly, Kinch seemed stunned and badly shaken.

"What is it?" asked Carter, suddenly afraid. "What's wrong?"

Kinch appeared not to have heard.

Newkirk stepped forward slowly. He put a hand on Kinch's shoulder. "Is something wrong with the Colonel, mate?" Kinch's silence made Newkirk frightened.

This time Kinch turned and faced the others. There were tears running down his cheeks. "It's the Colonel. He's dead!"

It took a long moment for Kinch's news to hit them. They were stunned.

"Dead? Colonel Hogan?" Newkirk could barely get the words out. "You're wrong! You have to be!"

LeBeau's eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "No, you're wrong, Kinch. The Colonel is not dead. He isn't! He's just sleeping very deeply, that's all." Too bad LeBeau didn't believe what he was saying.

Tears were forming in Carter's eyes. He looked at the body of his commanding officer lying on his bed. "Are you sure, Kinch?" he asked softly, his voice cracking. "Is Colonel Hogan really….?"

Kinch swallowed hard. "There's no pulse whatsoever and he's not breathing. I'm afraid Colonel Hogan's dead."

The man lying on the bunk raised a hand to his forehead. His head ached like hell. In fact, his entire body ached. Glancing around he realized immediately he was no longer in Stalag 13. Where am I? he asked himself trying to sit up. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. Ignoring the feeling, he sat up slowly and looked around. He was in a prison cell! How did I get here? Last thing I remember was being in camp and then going to bed.

The sound of the iron door opening caught his attention. He looked up as the door opened and saw two men enter, one of them carrying a medical bag. But he found himself staring at the man in a German uniform. He recognized him immediately.

"You!" he said, stunned.

"Yes, Colonel Hogan, it is I. The Snowman."

Even though Hogan had no idea what was going on or why he was here, he was positive he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Exactly who are you and what am I doing here?" asked Hogan.

"My name is Erik Heinman. I am a captain with the Abwehr and aide to Major Herman Frolichman. You are our prisoner until we are able to trade you for one of our operatives."

Hogan'seyes narrowed. "Trade me? For who? To whom? And why me?"

"That is none of your concern," Heinman remarked. He pulled his gun from it's holster and pointed it at Hogan's head. "But now, Colonel, the time for talk is over. I'm afraid you must be kept sedated as a guarantee you won't try to escape or cause us any trouble."

Hogan watched the man with the medical bag approach him, placing the bag on the bed. As the bag was opened, Hogan watched as a syringe and a vial of clear liquid was removed. The syringe was filled slowly. Then, the man holding the syringe looked at him. "You will roll up your sleeve, please, Colonel Hogan," the man with the syringe said. Hogan surmised the man speaking to him was a doctor. He noticed the doctor looked almost apologetic at having to do what had to be done."

Hogan stared at him. "Go to hell!"

The doctor looked at Heinman. Hogan heard a click and knew that all Heinman had to do was pull the trigger and it would be all over for him.

"You will do as you're told, Colonel, or I'll put a bullet in your head right now."

Hogan gave Heinman one of his lopsided grins. "No you won't," he smirked. "You can't trade a dead man for anybody. And it's obvious you need me alive."

Heinman paused, telling Hogan he was right in his assumption. Instead, Heinman approached Hogan and backhanded him so hard across the face with his gun, Hogan thought his teeth would fall out. He fell backwards in the bed, blood trickling from a split lower lip. As he lay dazed on the bed, he felt his sleeve being rolled up and the syringe jabbed in his arm. He felt another wave of dizziness sweep over him quickly. Whatever the doctor had given him was causing the room to spin. He struggled to turn his head towards Heinman to say something, but found he couldn't get the words out. Things were becoming fuzzy.

"Just one final thing, Colonel Hogan. If I were you, I wouldn't count on being rescued by your men or anyone else. You see, everybody thinks you're dead."

Hogan barely heard what Heinman had said. His head was swimming. Dead? My men can't believe I'm dead. They can't. How do I get out of here?

It was then that Hogan passed out.