The next day, Hogan was mulling over plans, discarding them as soon as they appeared in his brain. The problem was how to get the children to safety without jeopardizing their operation. He had already ordered Kinch to radio London and tell them to expect 10 small "packages." London said they'd pick them up, but getting them to the coast was Hogan's problem.

"Help them, Colonel? How are we going to do that?" Sergeant Kinchloe was asking.

"They're kids! We gotta help them!" that was Carter.

"We can get the underground to help us, maybe we can get them through as families," Hogan was thinking aloud and the men were listening in. He turned to Newkirk, "how old did they look?"

Newkirk furrowed his brow and slowly stuck out his lower lip as he considered, "There's one that can't be all that old, I mean, just walking; the oldest girl maybe 14?" Newkirk spread his hands. He was never any good at judging ages of children.

Hogan sighed, that was about the ages he was thinking. That was a dilemma, how old were the kids? Would they be able to make it to the coast without jeopardizing the operation or the underground? He kept coming back to that. But, the arguments of his men kept coming back to him.

There was also the problem of how to get in contact with Rose Red again to find out what exactly he had dropped into their laps that needed to get to London. Just to affirm to Hogan that the universe was going against him, the unseasonably warm weather had just become seasonably cold and it was looking like snow was in the forecast. Great. Just great.

It was cold in the main room of the barrack, even with the pot belly stove. The men were huddled around the table holding hot coffee mugs even if they didn't drink coffee. Their blankets from the bunks were wrapped around their shoulders.

"Snow. Perfect. We can't go through the emergency tunnel until it melts or the guards tromp around there," Hogan was grousing. He felt truly caged.

"Well," started Newkirk, "If I hear 'I'm Dreaming of a bloody White Christmas' one more time, I'll go out meself." He looked pointedly at Carter.

"What?" asked Carter. "Can I help it if that's what's been going around my brain ever since it started snowing?"

Newkirk snorted and picked up a deck of cards and started shuffling.

"Don't worry, Andrew, he's just surprised something is going around your brain," comforted LeBeau.

"Yeah," Carter agreed. Then, "HEY!"

LeBeau snickered a bit and poured more coffee into Carter's cup as a way of apology.

Kinch came through the door smiling. "Colonel, you better come out here and take a look."

Curious, Hogan followed Kinchloe out the door; the others tagging behind. There, near the fence, were the guards chasing a group of children through the woods. Klink was directing them from the compound exhorting the guards to capture the children, all the while yelling, "Don't hurt them. Capture them, but don't hurt them!"

Finally, the guards were able to round up the children and were marching them into the compound to face Klink. The children seemed to have some sort of headdresses on over their stocking caps with paper feathers sticking out. Hogan thought Klink would have difficulties as the children did not look very scared or repentant.

"Just what do you think you were doing," Klink yelled at the tallest girl. Hogan recognized her as one of the girls from the other day. He also noticed Liesl standing next to her.

"We were playing Winnetou! We used to always play here before the camp came."

One of the boys in the group nodded vigorously. "Yes, we used to play here first. The camp came later."

"Well, it is a prison camp now. It is very unsafe for you to play here now. I have some very dangerous prisoners in this camp." Klink apparently thought yelling at the kids would make them obey. "I'll report this to your parents. You have to go home."

"You don't even know who our parents are," the eldest girl tossed her head. "We won't tell you."

Hogan watched Liesl carefully. Her head was down as she was hiding a small smile.

"You will tell me or I'll have you arrested!" shouted Klink.

Kinch shook his head. Obviously, Klink had never been around children.

Suddenly Liesl looked up and around, "Where is Kleine Michel?"

"Wha?" Klink stopped in mid rant.

The eldest girl looked around, "Kleine Michel? Wasn't he here? Mein Gott, Mutti will kill me!"

Liesl looked at Klink and explained, "Kleine Michel is Marguerite's brother. She said he was too young to play so he was supposed to be watching the camp; Winnetou's camp. Not yours."

Concerned, Klink looked around then called over Schultz. "You didn't see a young boy when you were trying to capture these children did you?"

"Nein, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz looked concerned also. "There was no one but these here."

"He came with us! He has to be around here," cried Marguerite.

"You children go to my office. Schultz, take the guards and conduct a search around the perimeter of the camp and look for the boy," commanded Klink as he hustled the children towards the Kammandantur.

"Jawohl, uh what does he look like?"

Marguerite was about to describe her brother to Schultz, but Klink broke in.

"Like a young boy! Take any young boy you see near the camp into custody!" Yelled Klink, "this isn't a kindergarten!"

"Uh Colonel, Klink, do you need some help?" Hogan asked as he came forward. "We could help look for the boy."

"Yes, and use it for an excuse to escape. No, Hogan, I do not need help looking for the boy."

Hogan nodded towards the children, "How about babysitting?"

Klink stopped hustling the children to turn around and shake his fist, "HOGAN!!"

Hogan stepped away and opened his arms, "Just asking, Kommandant."

It started to snow harder and now the children were really scared that something had happened to the little boy. It finally had stopped when a few hours later the guards had come back into camp. They found out Kleine Michel had apparently, cold and bored, gone to a nearby farm house where the wife of the farmer had just finished baking for the week. The farmer was heading toward the camp to find his sister to let her know her brother was safe and sound.

A relieved Klink had forgotten about his threat to tell the children's parents and had let them go back home after they finally promised not to come near the camp again. The thought of what might have happened to Michel had taken a lot of bluster from Marguerite and the band as they readily agreed. As the children walked toward the gate, Liesl looked back towards Hogan. With a quick wink and smile she was gone through the tall gates.

"She did it," exclaimed Kinch in awe.

"What did she do?" asked LeBeau.

"Get the snow trampled around the camp. We can now use the tunnels," answered Kinch.

"Good thing she's on our side," Carter said shaking his head in awe.

"That's if she truly is," replied the ever cynical Newkirk.

Hogan just watched the children follow the road back to town in silence. Seeing Klink come out of his office Hogan went to him. "So you found the boy?"

"Yes, yes, he was at some farmer's house. I don't know what some parents think letting these children run wild without telling anyone."

"Didn't you ever play where you weren't supposed to when you were a kid, Klink?" Hogan smiled, knowing many places he played would probably have given his mother a heart attack if she only knew.

"No, I never did; well, maybe once," Klink confessed.

Hogan laughed, then asked, "by the way, what was the game they were playing? Winny Two?"

"Winnetou. It's a character in a series of books by Karl May. Winnetou is an Apache Indian and becomes great friends with Old Shatterhand. The books tell about the great friendship between the two and their adventures. It's a very popular series here. I read them a lot when I was younger."

Hogan stopped and looked dumbfounded, "You mean they were playing cowboys and Indians in the woods?"

"Yes," Klink nodded his head, "that's what they were doing."

Hogan gave a short laugh, "well how about that? Playing cowboys and Indians in the middle of Germany in the middle of a war, kids playing cowboys and Indians."

"I don't see anything so unusual about that," Klink said, confused. "I'm sure lots of children play as you say, cowboys and Indians."

"No, that's just it," replied Hogan as he went back to his barracks whistling. "Nothing unusual at all. Lots of kids play cowboys in Indians. I guess there are some things that are the same everywhere."