F U B A R
Chapter two
"Well, if it's not the Yugoslavia rescue, what is it?" Hogan leaned back in his chair and waited… And waited.
"It's like this, Colonel." Garrett sounded a bit embarrassed. "We don't know."
The colonel sat back up straight. "Very funny. I'm not laughing. Now, spill it," he demanded.
"I said, we don't know!" Boswell, who was extremely testy, yelled. The process of becoming prisoners in disguise was not pleasant, to say the least. Every step until the transfer to Stalag 13 was fraught with danger. The capture, the thankfully short stay at the Dulag and transfer center, and the final ride were a waking nightmare. Well, not quite, Boswell had to admit. Every step was manipulated and planned. But, still, it was extremely nerve-wracking. And the humiliating display in front of Klink was the final straw. Yes, Boswell was testy.
"Watch your tone with me, Boswell," Hogan barked.
"Easy, you two. We're on the same side, remember?" Garrett attempted to be peacemaker while Hogan and Boswell glared at each other.
Hogan took his eyes off Boswell and turned to Garrett. "Why don't you explain, before I start interrogating?"
"You just had to bring that up, didn't you Colonel?" Boswell walked away and stared out the window.
The men in the common room were trying to keep themselves occupied, all the while keeping one ear tuned into the rising voices emanating from Hogan's office.
"Sounds like they're having a real row in there. Maybe we should call for the medic," Newkirk joked. "In case someone gets hurt."
"Hope it doesn't spill out into here." Kinch was on his bunk and attempting to concentrate on a page in the code book. "I'm not cleaning up the mess."
"Shush," Carter interrupted. "I'm trying to hear what they're saying."
"I'm not bringing anything up," Hogan lied. He now realized he was really, really, holding a grudge, and finally decided to be a professional and calm down. "Start over. Go ahead."
Garrett wisely spoke first. "Our instructions were to come here and wait. The information and mission is classified. It was considered too dangerous and too important to let us travel with this stuff in our heads, in case we were captured making our way into Germany. So all we know is that we will be contacted here on this emergency frequency."
"When?" Hogan asked.
"We don't know, Colonel. Hopefully, not long."
Hogan grimaced at Garrett's response. "We can't man the radio 24/7 you know."
"Our headquarters knows someone, Sergeant Kinchloe, is it?"
"Usually," Hogan answered.
"They know he's normally down below after the last roll call. They'll be contacting us one of those nights. Colonel," Boswell stated. "One or both of us will need to be there." He looked straight at Hogan; hoping that the colonel's temper had run out of steam.
Hogan got up from the chair. "That means your home away from home will be this barracks, gentlemen; which means two things. First; I can keep an eye on you two," he flashed a quick smile that quickly disappeared, "And second; two of my men in this barracks will have to be temporarily displaced."
"Can you do that?" Boswell asked, "Without going through Klink?"
Hogan gave the agent a surprised look. "Of course, I can do that. The question is: will any of them be willing to volunteer? Every man in this barracks, by the way, is here for a specific reason. So this is not like musical chairs."
A few moments later, the two spies and Hogan left the office and entered the common room, where the fourteen residents tried to pretend they had no idea a heated conversation was taking place a short distance away.
"Listen up. These two," Hogan pointed at Boswell and Garrett, "Will need to bunk in here during their stay at our little resort. I need two volunteers to go to eight and eleven. Don't know for how long."
"I'll go," Carter raised his hand.
"Carter! Not you. But, thanks. Whoever goes, I'll throw in a dinner when you get back; LeBeau will cook it. Newkirk? What do we have down there?"
"One moment, Colonel," Newkirk popped off his bunk, went to his footlocker and pulled out a ledger. Let's see; bribes. Nylons and perfume… That won't do! Medical supplies… Wilson will have a fit." Newkirk looked up. "I'm sorry, we're short. It's the invasion."
"There's a downside to everything," Hogan grumbled. "Sorry, fellas. Unless someone speaks up, we're drawing straws."
"I'll go." Mills stepped forward.
"Thanks. Anyone else? O'Brien? Good. I'm headed out to get the transfer arranged. Boswell, Garrett, sit there." Hogan pointed to the table. "Don't say anything, do anything, or go anywhere until I get back."
"That was quick," Boswell mentioned to Garrett as Hogan opened the door and announced the transfer had been approved.
"Klink does what I want, most of the time." Hogan grinned. "I just told him you had been pegged as troublemakers and I wanted to keep an eye on you."
"Thanks a lot," Boswell answered sarcastically.
"Mills. O'Brien. You two can go." Several men jumped up to help their comrades move. Others scattered to the tunnels to work and the rest headed outside. Hogan was left alone with Boswell and Garrett. He sighed. "Time to give you the real tour. If you're up here, you've got to know the score."
Eagerly, the two agents stood up.
"Listen and pay attention," Hogan ordered. "This could save your life. You've already been in the tunnels. So, we'll start in the compound.
"We have parts of the fence that roll up. I'll give you a diagram later and you'll memorize it. Sometimes," Hogan explained, "The emergency tunnel entrance is unusable. Usually because there are extra patrols, but sometimes for cave-ins."
Hogan then walked the two agents closer to the dog pen. "The doghouse hides another tunnel entrance. The dogs are trained to listen to our commands. They won't hurt you, hopefully," he added for emphasis. "Each inhabited barracks has an entrance as well."
"Impressive," Boswell noted.
"Yeah, we keep adding more, when we have the time." Hogan pointed out the mess and the rec hall. "Now, look at the guards and tell me what you see."
Boswell and Garrett eyed the towers and, more specifically, the guards in the compound. They were already aware of the deficiencies in the camp layout. Finally, Garrett spoke.
"Not too menacing, are they? Either young or old."
"Correct. We do have a few that are big. I guess that's the word," Hogan chuckled, "And strong. Their primary goal is to get through the war alive. And not get sent east. So it's a delicate balancing act. They can't let us get away with everything or they'll be replaced." Hogan pointed at Schultz. "That's our barrack's guard and the Sergeant at Arms."
"I remember him from before," Garrett said. "He's in charge of the guards?"
"Yes. We have him well-trained," Hogan quipped. "He's seen a lot and keeps it to himself. Easily bribed with food."
"Who would've guessed?" Boswell laughed.
"Listen," Hogan lowered his voice, "Don't take anyone for granted. Ever. Do I think Schultz would rat us out? No, honestly I don't. But Klink and the guards are Germans and they're afraid. And they still have the guns." Hogan led the two back into the barracks. "We run evacuation drills. Haven't had one in a while, though. Since the invasion, it's been nonstop action. I've only had to issue evacuation orders once."
"You're still here. What happened?" Boswell asked as he took a look at the diagram Hogan handed out.
"One Nazi killed another before I was about to take him out. Let's just leave it at that."
"The Freitag incident? We heard about that," Boswell recalled. "You were about to…?" Boswell made a shooting gesture with his hand. Hogan nodded. "Didn't know about that part."
Boswell looked over at Garrett, who mouthed, "Suicide mission." Hogan, who had turned aside, didn't witness the exchange.
"Well, that's the cook's tour. Oh, one more thing. This barracks is in the front line. First in line for the firing squad," Hogan said gaily. "Just ask anyone here if you have any questions. They'll tell you about the chores and roll calls. Oh, and have a great day." Hogan smiled, tapped Kinch's bunk and disappeared.
"He hates us." Boswell, who was still irked by Hogan's demeanor, looked at his partner, who was already intently studying the fence diagram.
"He doesn't hate us. I'd say it's more of an intense dislike, or disdain, maybe. Here, look at this, Todd. On the back. Evacuation signals. In case you're stuck in the compound. That's good planning. What are the odds that this whole camp can be evacuated safely?"
"Not too good," Boswell answered. "Realistically, I'd say, eventually, a lot of the guys would be caught. Unless there's something we don't know."
"That's a sobering thought. If there's an evacuation, the operation has been discovered and everyone would be shot."
The agents formed a new appreciation for both Hogan and the men in camp. They studied the diagrams, flopped onto their bunks and mulled over how close they had actually come to depriving the prisoners of their commander. The two had little time to rest as they were ordered outside for exercise. They continued with the routine of camp life until it was time to head to the radio room after roll call. And this they did, for four straight nights.
"Are you sure they know you're here?" Kinch was getting annoyed at the agents' nightly invasion of his inner sanctum.
"Yes, they know we're here," Boswell grumbled. He was standing behind Kinch, looking over the radioman's shoulder, while Garrett, who had taken up knitting, was patiently seated in a chair on the other side of the table.
"Hey, look!" Garrett triumphantly held up his creation; the beginnings of a scarf. "I've learned how to purl," he said proudly.
"Oh, that's just peachy." Boswell, who was not making the best of a bad situation, tried to tweak the radio. "You sure this thing is working?"
Kinch slapped Boswell's hand. "No touching! And, yes, it's working!"
"Anything?" Hogan asked as he hopped off the lowest rung of the ladder.
"No, Colonel. You need a scarf?" Garrett asked.
"I'm OK. How long do you plan on waiting? Can't stay here forever." Hogan walked over to the radio and took a look at the piece of paper Kinch placed in his hand. "Well, I suppose you could, but I think none of us would be happy with that option."
"Not a chance," Boswell answered.
"He is right," Garrett added. "It's a waste of our training."
"Can you contact someone?" Kinch addressed the question to Garrett. Boswell was getting on his nerves.
"No. We're to maintain radio silence until contact is reestablished." Garrett parroted back the orders, then cursed. "Damn. I dropped a stitch."
"Sorry to interrupt." Hogan looked at Kinch and motioned towards the ladder. Kinch, needing no invitation, popped up. "We need to go over something upstairs."
"Our window is over, Colonel." Disappointed, Boswell reached over the table and gave Garrett a poke. "Come on."
"What? New mission, Colonel? Anything we can do?" Please, Garrett prayed.
"No. Do what you've been doing; enjoying our hospitality. Just don't steal the towels or the little bars of soap." Hogan laughed at his own joke and headed up the ladder.
"Still a comedian," Boswell griped.
"If this goes on much longer, Todd, we may have to send a signal. What do you think?" Garrett held up a scarf which was growing at an enormous rate.
"Perfect – if you're the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. Looks like you found a new career for yourself after the war," Boswell said sarcastically.
Garrett was insulted. "You're just mad because you're bored and aren't channeling your energy into something useful."
"Who have you been talking with? Stalag 13's resident psychiatrist? Look at you!" Boswell shook his head and headed up the ladder. Garrett followed.
"Moe and Larry are getting on each other's nerves," Hogan mentioned to the men before he started the briefing.
"Pity to break up a beautiful friendship," Newkirk laughed.
"I don't think it's a good sign," Carter countered. "They were a good team."
"A well-oiled machine," Hogan muttered as he recalled his time as their prisoner. "I'll second that," Hogan stated. "Let's try and keep them busy until they hear something. They do have a job to do, and so do we."