Friday the 13th, Hogan Style
Chapter 5
October 14, 1944 5 a.m.
Hogan was awakened by the sounds of planes returning to the base. He listened for the sirens indicating a damaged plane was coming in. Fortunately, he didn't hear any. Although he usually joined his group on their missions, Hogan had been in Bellamy's shoes as well; when he was grounded for a short while due to an injury. He understood how nerve-wracking it was for the commanders waiting behind on the base.
He walked over to the sink and splashed water on his face. Ugh." Hey," he signaled the guard, who was from the looks of it, trying to stay awake. "You don't suppose I can get a toothbrush?" The private sprang up, and returned several minutes later with a full set of toiletries. "Oh, you made my day." Hogan thanked the guard, who didn't look a day over seventeen.
"Thank you, sir."
Hogan was caught in mid-shave when a corporal arrived and requested his presence in the conference room. "Sir, I believe someone has arrived to identify you."
Hogan quickly threw on his now wrinkled shirt, and followed the corporal to the room where he had first met Bellamy hours before. Anticipation hit his stomach as he wondered who had arrived.
"Guess who we finally tracked down?" Bellamy remarked cheerfully. After being up all night, he looked none the worse for wear. "Group Captain Roberts! Seems he was out flying around the channel; protecting the coastline. But, that's not important."
"That's the best news I've heard since that Gestapo agent showed up in camp," Hogan replied with relief. Looking back, Hochstetter did have good timing.
October 14, 1944 6 a.m.
Bellamy opened the door. Roberts, who had been glancing at the same paper Hogan had looked at, came forward. "I think I can take it from here," he said to Bellamy.
"You sure?" Bellamy asked, while Hogan gazed at this friend; who looked at him with a bit of suspicion.
Roberts nodded at Bellamy, who left, closing the door behind him. Hogan, who couldn't blame Roberts for thinking he might not be who he said he was, spoke first. "Long time, no see."
"Colonel Hogan. Last I heard, you were in a prison camp in Germany."
"Well, it's like this. I got caught escaping. Do you know they had me scheduled for a meeting with a firing squad? Yesterday at 6 a.m." Roberts showed no sign of emotion. "And, Hochstetter came in and well, it's a long story. You know, I was put in the same cell we broke you out of. The one with the movable sink."
A change came over Roberts' face.
"Bobby?" He came forward.
"Bobby?" Hogan laughed. "The only one who can call me that, and get away with it, is my mother. Robbie, you know that!" (1)
Roberts grinned. "Good to see you. I thought it was you." He picked up the paper. "Crossword done in pen! But after what happened with…" (2)
"Can't blame you one bit; would have done the same thing." Hogan sat down. "Oh, am I tired. What a day I had yesterday."
"Hang on." Roberts walked over to the door and opened it. Bellamy, who was waiting outside, came into the room.
"Well?"
"It's him. No doubt."
"I knew it. Congratulations." Bellamy pumped Hogan's hand.
"I need to get to London," Hogan mentioned. "But first I need to make a private call."
"I can take you to London. I drove here," Roberts said. "You owe me. It was dark and scary driving without headlights."
Hogan shrugged. "Danger is your middle name," he joked.
"Use this phone here." Bellamy pointed. "Tell the operator the number. We'll be outside."
"Thanks." Hogan pulled himself together. For the first time in over 24 hours, he was beginning to feel relaxed. Not totally, but getting there.
"This is Colonel Hogan. Alpha Charlie 799186."
"One moment," the British woman on the other end told him.
A man, who identified himself as the Officer of the Day, came on the line. "Colonel Hogan! Where are you? Last we heard; you were MIA."
"It's a long story. Right now I'm on a base near Dover. I'll be on my way over to you in a few hours."
"That's good news."
"Do me a favor. Contact my men and tell them I'm here."
October 14, 1944 7 a.m.
Shortly later, Roberts and Bellamy filled Hogan in on war news and updates, while the three had breakfast. He listened politely, and made the appropriate comments, although he had already been kept up to date by London. Hogan was planning on regaling Roberts with his accounting of the previous day's events on the trip into headquarters.
October 14, 1944 8 a.m.
"Well, Colonel Hogan, good luck to you. I hope you enjoyed our hospitality."
"Now that it's all sorted out," Hogan replied, "I can honestly say it's the nicest time in prison I've spent." He shook Bellamy's hand. "Actually, thanks for tracking down Roberts, and you know, those rumors, I still don't believe them."
Seconds after Roberts' car left the gate; he turned to Hogan and said, "So, I assume you weren't really escaping."
"Your assumption is correct. I suppose I should start from the beginning." Hogan laughed. "That should take the entire trip."
"I'm listening."
"Well," Hogan replied. "Technically it started a year ago, with a wedding."
Roberts went a little pale as Hogan got to the part when Bergmann ordered his execution. "Word's gone out to the officers about what happened to those poor blokes from Stalag 3. I don't know if it's dissuading anyone. "
"Our escape processing has slowed down," Hogan admitted. "But listen to this. I really assumed Klink would manage to stop it, until lucky me. Guess who was in Dusseldorf?"
"Hitler?"
"No, Goering. He signed off on the orders."
" And Klink… I suppose he had no choice. He had to cave." Roberts commented.
"Except, he called Hochstetter," Hogan continued.
Roberts let out an involuntary shudder at the mention of the Gestapo agent.
"And Hochstetter was fuming. You see he almost missed his chance on finally getting an interrogation."
"So, he took you away to work you over?" Roberts shuddered again.
"Yup. He convinced those two goons that he would. He told them when he was done; they could put whatever was left of me in front of the firing squad. At that point, I would have chosen the firing squad."
Roberts nodded his head in agreement. "Rather than be tortured for information. Tell me. You had access to the tunnel. Why didn't you just leave?"
"My men wanted me to. I did think about it," Hogan recalled. "But there was no way out except through the floor. They would have found it. And evacuating one-thousand men just to save me. Some of them would have been caught and shot. Nope. So I sort of came to terms with it."
"Sort of?
"Hmm. Never mind," Hogan continued. "So I got thrown into Hochstetter's car. Locked in, and off we went. A few kilometers out, bang, flat tire."
"Not a coincidence, I presume."
"You know. It was odd. I felt the car slow down at first. But someone shot out the tire. It was an ambush."
"So your luck turned."
"Sort of. I was rescued by three kids. The Underground amateur hour." Hogan shook his head as he recalled his fear, for them, and himself. He filled Roberts in on his experience at the apartment, including the language barrier.
"You really got yourself into that one," Roberts laughed. "Don't you think sometimes you can be too careful?"
"Yes. Actually now I do. Considering I spent an entire night in a British cell on a backwater airbase because someone had to make sure I'm me. No. I'm kidding." Hogan looked out the window. "In this line of work you can never be too careful."
"You are probably right," Roberts answered. "So the story doesn't end in the apartment."
"Nope. Next comes the mysterious, but more professional contact." Hogan got up to the part where he landed in England and stopped. "You know the rest."
"Rob, you do realize yesterday was Friday the 13th?"
"No." Hogan had completely forgotten what day it was.
"I have to commend you. If it were me, when I got to the base, and ended up in their little penal system, I think I would have blown a gasket."
"If Hochstetter had shown up one minute later, I'd be dead," Hogan said. "That's hard to forget, and put that little bit of inconvenience in perspective. Besides, Bellamy was a good guy. He wasn't a bad warden."
"What I don't get is this Otto fellow, and those three kids. Why would he be associated with those three, if they were so amateurish? You'd think he would train them a bit better."
Hogan yawned. "That reminds me. When I talk to the camp, I've got to tell the guys about those three. Someone's got to read them the riot act before they get picked up. You know, I never found out," Hogan yawned, "what happened to Hochstetter."
"He's probably dead, I suppose." Roberts glanced at Hogan. "Close your eyes. I'll let you know when we're there."
October 14, 1944 10 a.m.
So much had occurred over the last 36 hours that Hogan's mind was spinning. He approached the area from which he and his men received their orders with some trepidation. It's over, he thought to himself. It's really over. I can't go back. Control agents and clerks came over to greet him when he walked through the door.
"Yeah, I'm alive. No thanks. What is it with the tea? Actually, what I really need is a shower and a clean uniform."
"We notified your men, Hogan. Wembley had worked his way through the crowd. "Oh, you do look a bit ragged." The British control agent ushered Hogan out of the room, and over to a housing area. Roberts trailed behind.
Hogan let the hot water wash away the tension and sweat that had accumulated since he had been arrested outside the Hofbrau. He tried not to think of not being there for the men. I'll be damned if they assign another Crittenden. Not if I have anything to say about it.
Now feeling more coherent and effective in a clean uniform; Hogan followed Roberts back to the radio room.
"Ah, that's better, old boy. You looked like something the cat dragged in."
"Thanks, Wembley. Look, I want to be in on finding my replacement," Hogan stated.
"No need to worry about that right now. We've got to get you debriefed."
Hogan rolled his eyes. "I figured." He turned to Roberts. "We should have had a stenographer in the car. Would have saved us time, and trouble."
"Sorry, Hogan. No sympathy from me on that point. "You should have seen how many times I had to repeat my story when I got back. It was a nightmare," he recalled. "Good luck." Roberts winked at Hogan. "I'm off to renew some old acquaintances; then I have to get back to my unit."
"Oh."Hogan was disappointed. "Well, I guess I will be seeing you soon. Lunch?" He patted his pockets. "I've got nothing. It's on you."
Roberts laughed. "Always the con artist. You're on. Give me a ring once you're settled. Good luck with your replacement," he whispered.
"All right, let's get this show on the road," Hogan announced. "But first, can I please call the camp?"
********
"Goldilocks calling Papa Bear. Come in." Hogan, having gotten his wish, was on the radio.
"This is Papa Bear. Colonel, is that you?" It was Kinch. "It's good to hear your voice."
"It's good to be here." Hogan could hear the other men in the background crowding around the radio.
"We have some news, sir," Kinch said. "I don't know if it's good or bad. I guess it depends on how you look at it."
"Don't keep me guessing, Kinch. Spill it."
"We got word that Hochstetter is alive. Seems he was found by some locals, stumbling by the side of the road, a bit beaten up, but okay. Boy, was he mad."
"I bet," Hogan answered.
"Why didn't that Underground team kill him?" Kinch asked.
"Beat's me," Hogan replied. "Nothing those kids did made much sense; which reminds me. I'll have to get you a description and possible location of their hide-out. You've got to get someone to find them, and set them straight before they get themselves killed."
"Now I'm confused," Kinch said. "Are you saying they were amateurs, sir?"
"Oh, you don't know the whole story."
"No, sir. Just that the Underground ambushed the car, and somehow you got flown back to England."
"When I'm done with the debriefing, I'll fill you in on the rest."
"Will do," Kinch paused. "I have some other news about the two agents that had you arrested."
"They're not going after the men?" Hogan, now fearful, asked.
"No. This is good." Kinch paused and then continued. "But, hard to believe."
"Try me, Kinch. After what happened since yesterday, I'll believe anything."
"This morning, Klink was notified that their bodies were found dumped outside Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg."
"They're dead! Can this mean I can go back? Do they know who killed them?"
"No, but it looked professional," Kinch answered. "Hochstetter will be in charge of the investigation."
Hogan was now confused. His mind was racing. They're dead, gone kaput, and so is the execution order, I guess. But what about Hochstetter? I need to think this over.
"Kinch. I need to talk this over with the brass."
"I know, sir. Hochstetter is still out there." Kinch sounded disappointed.
"Hang in there," Hogan said. "I'm signing off."
Wembley, who had been standing by, asked Hogan if he was ready," I take it you got some good news, Hogan."
"Sort of. I don't know, but maybe we won't have to find a replacement."
"Absolutely not" was the response from the higher ups, when Hogan mentioned the possibility of returning to Stalag 13.
"If Hochstetter was going to interrogate you yesterday, he'll sweep you up as soon as you're back, and then everyone, including you, is in trouble," General Butler pointed out. "We've invested too much into you, and the operation, to have that happen." He refused to budge.
"You won't be doing your men any favors, either," Wembley added. "Besides, you said you refused to hide before your execution, just so you wouldn't have to order an evacuation."
"I did," Hogan admitted.
"Hogan, you won't be letting the men down if you don't return. They understand what's at stake. If Hochstetter gets to you..." General Tillman said.
"Stop, sir. I know." Hogan sighed. "I guess that's it, then. I'm done."
"I'm afraid so, son." Tillman was about to say something else, when an aide entered the room.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sirs, but a priority one coded message came over a special frequency. It's for Colonel Hogan."
"Go ahead," Butler said.
Hogan took the paper from the aide, and opened it up.
"It's from Nimrod," he said, a bit shocked. "It says it's safe to go home. That's all."
"Let me see that." Butler asked. Hogan passed him the paper. "That's the correct code and frequency."
"It's safe to go home," Hogan repeated. "Home, meaning Stalag 13. Not the states; I presume."
"This may change things." Wembley was a bit awe-struck.
"He's been close, real close." Hogan looked at the two generals and other assorted big-whigs seated around the table. He stood up. "I'd like to go back. If Nimrod says it's safe, well, I trust his judgment. You know what he's done. My gut tells me this is kosher! " (3)
"It did come in on his specific radio frequency," Wembley noted.
"Gentlemen, I think we should talk this over." Tillman leaned back in his chair.
"I agree. Colonel Hogan, you're dismissed," Butler said. "We'll notify you when we've made a decision."
And so, Hogan, his fate now again in someone else's hands for the third time in less than 48 hours, paced back and forth in the room to which he had been banished. Although to be fair, he had to admit; the door wasn't locked. There were no bars, and he had a comfortable leather sofa to sit on, rather than an uncomfortable cot that was attached to a wall. But other than those subtle differences, he was still feeling like a puppet. And that's why, he knew, he had to get back. He wanted... no...he needed to be in control, to not have generals breathing down his neck and looking over his shoulder. To be able to think outside the box, get feedback from his men, put his somewhat over the top convoluted plans in motion. No matter how miserable Stalag 13 was, he was determined to see his mission through. To aid in the rescue of downed fliers, act as a transit station for escaped prisoners, harass the enemy, and most important; keep everyone, including himself, alive, until the Allied tanks rolled through the front gates.
"We've agreed to send you back, Colonel," Butler informed him about an hour later. The generals offered no other explanations, and left Hogan wondering if they had contacted Nimrod.
"I appreciate that. How? When! The sooner the better. Easier to give Klink an explanation."
"We can drop you in tonight," Wembley told him.
Hogan was relieved. "Do me a favor, Wembley. Contact Roberts for me, and tell him I'll take a rain check."
(1) Personally, I can't see him being called this. I prefer Robert, or Rob. (I think some of us at have dubbed him that) although, Hogan introduced himself as Robert, on the show. But Bobby is often used as a nickname for Robert. (I have personal experience with this), so I used it.
(2) "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London." I should have put this in the previous chapter, so I apologize for any confusion.
(3) "The Missing Klink"