Chapter 2:

As I continued to get lost in my thoughts of the past, I was brought back into reality when the truck turned a sharp corner and I slipped from my seat on a small wooden box onto the floor. I went sprawling only to fall upon my injured arm. Unimaginable pain shot through my whole side and black spots appeared in front of my eyes, but my pain was only going to get worse. Blinking and willing the spots away, I was subjected to the roughness of a German Luftwaffe sergeant; he unceremoniously groped at my uninjured arm and dragged me back to my seat.

As I felt the blood in my face drain, he banged on the wooden wall that separated the cabin of the truck from where I sat in the back with four heavily armed Luftwaffe. This made me want to laugh; four armed guards, for little old me? I was what the Gestapo ordained as a 'dangerous man'. Now at this thought I did give out a dry hacking snort, which could have been easily mistaken for a cough. If only they knew the truth; I was more dangerous than they could possibly imagine and my secret was terrible. It could destroy all that my beloved country had fought so hard for.

If the Germans were ever to discover my true identity it would be my father's undoing, and that would lead to the ultimate downfall of the Allied Forces. My family had many friends in high places and when I was born many of them were smitten with me. They could use me against them and I couldn't allow that to happen. So far I had been lucky, but I would still have to be exceedingly careful of everything.

The solider that had banged on the truck wall shouted in German over the sound of the engine and the truck pulled up, slowing until it finally came to a halt. Listening to what was going on I heard the truck doors open and shut. The canopy at the back of the truck was thrown open allowing the bright sunlight to shine in. Wincing as the light burned at my eyes, I blinked to let them get used to the light. One of the soldiers shoved me out of the truck with the butt of his rifle. I toppled from the truck and landed on my back.

Winded, I gasped for breath. The soldiers laughed and one stood over me, gesturing for me to get up. I struggled; with my arm injured I had some trouble, moving too slowly for his taste. He hit me again with his rifle, this time catching my face. It hit me in the eye and I gasped in pain. Finally getting to my feet, I rubbed where the guard had hit me, wincing as I could feel the bruise developing. Looking at my surroundings, I saw that we had stopped in a field.

A young lieutenant, whose was the only guard to speak English, and appalling English at that, said to me "We stop here, you stretch legs, not go far from truck or we shoot you. This freedom your last." They all laughed and I walked a few paces around the back of the truck, breathing in the fresh air and stretching my legs.

I couldn't go far and I knew that escape was impossible, so I banished the idea from my thoughts. What was I going to do? It was obvious to me that I was going to a Prisoner of War camp and that I was going to be there for the remainder of the war. But where were Will and Tom? Were they shot down as well? Did they suffer the same fate, or worse? I shuddered at this thought and thrust it from my mind. It had barely been five minutes when they yelled at me to get into the truck. I protested, but when they yelled at me again and pointed guns at me, I relented. As I made my way to the truck, one of the guards kicked at the back of my knees and I fell. He kicked me ruthlessly in my side and I felt my ribs crack. Jerking me to my feet, they threw me into the truck, where I laid in a heap, finally passing out from the pain.

I was jerked awake when the truck came to an abrupt halt and I was kicked in the ribs again. Deciding that it would be better to get to my feet with some speed than get up slowly, I rose hastily. Wincing and ignoring the dull throbbing that seemed to set into my very bones, I was ushered out of the truck. Slipping on a patch of mud at the back of the truck, I fell to my knees. I expected to be hauled to my feet roughly, but a firm hand slipped under my arm and helped me stand.

I shaded my eyes from the sun, being careful of my now fully formed black eye. Fully aware that the man before me still had a grip in my arm, I studied him. His chocolate brown eyes sparkled with mischief and you could get lost in them for an eternity. His hair was sticking out from underneath his officer's cap, but I could see that it was the same colour as his eyes and it had a slight wave to it. His button nose went extremely well with his devilishly handsome good looks.

He was dressed in anAmerican Officer Uniform, which clearly told me that he was a colonel in the American Air Force. He was wearing the brown jacket with the white woollen collar and his pants were grey-black coloured, with a slight splatter of mud on the cuffs. His clothes were a little worn from wear and tear, but he seemed at ease with himself. My heart thudded in my chest, he was indeed a very handsome man, but why was I having these thoughts? Was it because I was surrounded by uncertainty for my life? Maybe it was because I was surrounded by so much death and despair. Or maybe, just maybe it was because I felt slightly delirious.

Banishing all of these unusual thoughts from my mind, I was drawn back into my present situation. I stood up straighter as he let go of my arm. I tried to salute but this was unsuccessful as I tugged at my injuries in the wrong way. I felt myself sway and the officer again grabbed my arm to steady me. He placed my uninjured arm around his shoulders and I lent on to him, as he helped hold me upright.

"Colonel Robert Hogan of the United States Air Force, I'm the senior ranking Prisoner of War here at Stalag 13." he said as we made our way to the Commandant's office. "You know what to do; name, rank and serial number only."

He sat me on a chair in the secretary's office, and entered the adjoining door across the room, which was obviously the Commandant's office. A German sergeant exited the office and pushed me roughly to my feet. I staggered into the office, where behind the desk, near the door, sat a balding middle aged man.

"Welcome Colonel McNally. It is so wonderful to have you here." His accent was thick, but his English was good. His lips twisted into a cruel smile. "I am Kommandant Klink, your new keeper."

With that he laughed.

I scanned the room and by the far wall stood Colonel Hogan. He was frowning, but he stayed quietly where he was, with the barest of nods that gave me a little encouragement. Turning back to the commandant I saw that he was studying me.

"Now I don't suppose you will answer my questions will you?" I stood to my full height wincing a little. "Joseph McNally, Colonel, 27029107." I stated not looking the man in the eye.

I could feel myself starting to sway and the blood drain from my face. Spots appeared in front of my eyes, but I blinked them away rapidly. Colonel Hogan must have noticed for he quickly said "Kommandant Klink, I must protest! The poor boy can barely stand. Look at the state he's in! This is hardly in accordance with the Geneva Convention."

I felt him walk up beside me and grab my upper arm; I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths. Finally when the spots went away I opened my eyes. I could almost hear the Kommandant growl at us, but he proceeded to dismiss us nevertheless. "Fine! You're dismissed, but I will speak with the boy the moment he's healthy." He was addressing Colonel Hogan now and all I did was listen.

When he had finished, Colonel Hogan and I left the office, my arm around his shoulders to help me stay upright. I could feel myself beginning to lose consciousness rapidly, but I managed to make it to the barracks. The colonel sat me down of one of the unoccupied lower bunks in a room that the ranking officers had claimed as their own. The last thing I remember is hearing Tom's voice before I passed out.

"Oh God Joe! What happened to you? Are you alright?" Then the last thing I heard, before passing out was, "Put him in my quarters that's where he will be staying." from Colonel Hogan.

I don't remember all that much about the next few days. I remember waking up late one evening, and the lights were on. Beside me sat Tom. I felt so relieved! My best friend was safe, but what about my Will? What about my brother?

"Joe? Joe? Are you awake?" All I could do was nod. "Oh thank God!" the relief in his voice was frightening. He helped me to drink some water before I fell back into an unconscious state.

I slept fitfully, on the verge of a sleeping state, but not quite asleep. I remember feeling a wet cloth on my brow and I remember drinking water. Finally I slept, so deep that I felt like sleeping forever.

There were a few other times that I woke up, but they were a blur. All I remember was water and heat. I would find out later that I had fallen into a fever and lain delirious for days. The water was from cups that I was forced to drink and from a wet cloth that sat upon my forehead to combat the fever.

I awoke one morning with a clear head and clear eyes. I managed to pull myself into a sitting position, where I proceeded to scan my surroundings. Tom slept on a chair beside my bed, his mouth open slightly and drooling. The room was crudely furnished, with a table, a desk, two other chairs, a bunk bed and a wardrobe.

At the end of my bunk sat a trunk with my knapsack on top. I licked my dry, cracked lips to moisten them and winced as my tongue moved over them. I felt a cough building in my chest, and then a fit of coughs hacked at my throat. This startled Tom into consciousness and when he saw me sitting up he gave a huge grin and gave me a tight embrace.

"Oh God Joe" he whispered. "I thought we'd lost you. When you came in you were in terrible shape! You had cracked ribs, a black eye, a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist." The he smiled, "You just can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you?" And I grinned back at him carefully.

I tried to talk, but my mouth was to dry but I finally managed a whisper, "Water?"

Tom practically jumped of the bed and almost fell over. He quickly poured me a cup of water which I managed to down in a few gulps. He gave me another until I had polished of four mugs full. Now that my mouth and throat was moist I could talk properly.

"Where's Will, Tom? Where's my brother?" I asked. His face turned to a pained expression and my heart leapt to my throat, I felt my face drain of all life. Tom must have seen this for he quickly told me, "He's okay Joe. He's in solitary confinement. He refused to leave you for role call, he'll be out tomorrow."

I think the relief in my eyes scared Tom, for the look on his face told me he was startled by my expression, "You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks Joe." I gasped, that long?

I swung my legs around the side of the bed and made to get up. "What do you think your doing?" Tom demanded.

"I'm getting up! I've been here for nearly two weeks and I'm getting up!" I snapped back at him.

Gritting my teeth, I rose steadily to my feet, with the help of the bed post. I managed to walk around the room, before I sat on a chair at the desk. Tom handed me a plate with some food on, if you could call it food. I ate it anyway, I was starving and it was better than nothing. As I ate, the door open to reveal Colonel Hogan, standing in the door way.

"Ah...I see that our patient is awake." He said addressing Tom. Tom and I clambered to our feet and saluted. I swayed a bit; perhaps I had gotten up a little too fast. The colonel saw this and told us to continue what we were doing with a wave of his hand.

"Well mister, you gave us a run for our money. Your brother and this one..." he said nodding towards Tom. "...They were by your side most of the week, refused to leave. It's a good thing you're awake, now I can have my bed back."

I turned to Tom a little confused, his bed back? I saw Tom blush then realization dawned on me. This was the senior officer's quarters he must have lent his bed to Tom and Will so that they could keep and eye on me. Well this must have been what they told him, I suppose the real reason was so that they could treat my wounds and look after me, without revealing my secret.

"Come on now. Time for role call and then the commandant wants to talk to you." The colonel stated. We followed him outside, where the other men were beginning to line up. Tom took his position in the first row, where as I went and stood next to the colonel. Since he was the senior officer and he was more senior that me, he would continue on as senior officer.

Soon we were called to the attention of a large sergeant. I recognised him as the sergeant from the day in the office with the Kommandant. The one who shoved me into the office, he was looking at me and I scowled at him. He called attention again and soon the men had all settled down.

Out of the building in front of where we were standing came the Kommandant. Looking at him now I could see that the little batch of hair on his head was greying. He had a large hooked nose and atop those sat two piercing grey eyes.

He stood there quietly, whilst the sergeant and other German officers took a head count and reported in to him. All were prisoners were present. He surveyed the compound before he spoke.

"For those knew prisoners here. Welcome to Stalag 13. You are here because you need to spend the remainder of the war out of the way." He laughed and it sounded like a hacking cow. "Stalag 13 has a record of no escapes, so I tell you now that there will be no escapes. Any attempts and you will be shot."

He scanned the compound again to make sure that his message had sunken in, when his eyes fell on me. I stood straight and stared straight ahead. He approached me, side stepping mud puddles and came to stand in front me. I continued to stare straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular.

"Ah...Colonel McNally, you're awake." He stated. "You have quite a reputation. You will to dine with me for breakfast tomorrow." It wasn't a question, it was an order. He awaited my reply; I could hardly refuse, could I? "Yes, Sir." I did not look at him once, but kept staring straight ahead.

With that he turned to walk back into the building he had come out of. He stopped and turned the sergeant and ordered, "Release Lieutenant McNally."

And with that he left and the sergeant turned to two other officers and ordered them to bring Will out. As they half dragged, half carried him I could see that he was in bad shape. His face looked tired and pale; he also looked malnourished. It took all of my will power not to race to him. I stayed where I was, as the dumped him on the ground, in the mud.

We were all dismissed and from the corner I saw a blur race over too my brother, I followed in pursuit. Tom picked up Will and put his arm around his shoulders; I took his other arm and did the same. Will was unconscious and we dragged him to the empty bunk near where Tom slept.

Tom went over and grabbed a bucket of water and cloth and handed them to me. I started to mop his brow with the cloth. Wiping away dried blood and dirt, I could see the small cut that my brother had earned for stubbornness, was situated over his left eyebrow.

I stood back as Tom proceeded to force a few drops of water into my brother's mouth. This caused will to awaken. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked away the sun. I smiled, although we were in a terrible situation my brother and best friend were safe. I had a feeling that we were going to be okay.

"Hey Will, seems I can't take my eyes of you for a moment!?" I laughed. He looked at me and was slightly startled. "You awake!?" he half asked, half stated. This caused me to laugh again. "Yes, I'm awake and perfectly fine. But your not." This time I was serious. This shouldn't have happened to Will. "You know better! You should have followed orders." I scolded. I took a breath as I felt anger well up in my chest, to calm myself down.

He grinned and started to sit up, "Got any food, I'm starved." The anger in my chest fired again, as Tom left to get him a plate of food.

"Of course you're hungry! You've been in solitary confinement without food?!" I shouted, "You shouldn't have been there in the first place."

Tom placed a hand my shoulder, "Calm down Joe! Here's your food." He said as he handed my idiotic brother the plate. Will ate greedily and finished the food in minutes.

He made to get up, but I stopped him "Oh no you don't. You ain't going anywhere. Rest, try to sleep, you can get up in an hour."

I knew that I was treating him like a little boy, but I held firm and ignored his protests. As I turned to leave he said, "You've been unconscious for two weeks, why are you allowed up." I whirled around glaring dangerously at him. He gulped and lay back down. Feeling smug I left Will in Tom's care.

"I'll be back later." I called from down the hall.

I made my way back to the new quarters that I would be sharing with Colonel Hogan. He was sitting at the table with a mug of steaming substance, surrounded by a few other junior officers. He looked up at my entry and motioned for me to take a seat as I closed the door. Taking a seat next to him he began to introduce me to the others in the room.

There was the short French Corporal, Louie LeBeau, with his short cropped black hair, thin eyebrows and baby structured face. He had cheeky smile and rosy cheeks. There was also a man wearing an English uniform; he had dark sandy coloured hair, a hidden mischievous smile and a slightly hooked nose. He introduced himself as Corporal Peter Newkirk. Directly across from me stood two America clad men, other than Hogan, of course. Colonel Hogan introduced them as Sergeant James (Ivan) 'Kinch' Kinchloe, he had dark skin. He had black fuzzy hair and bushy eyebrows to match, on his top lip sat a thick moustache. The other man was introduced as Sergeant Andrew Carter. He was thin and wiry. Although his stance and face gave the impression that he was a really idiot, there was intelligence glinting in his eyes.

After the introductions were out of the way, I asked, "What's going on?"

The answer I got was from the French Corporal, I think his name was LeBeau. "We want to know what's happening with the war." His English was extremely good and I understood perfectly.

"And we want to know what happened in Berlin, when you were shot down! You know, your side of the story!" piped Newkirk.

"My side?" I asked, frowning. Then it dawned on me, Will and Tom must have told them what had happened. And they wanted to hear my side. Raising an eyebrow at him, I caused him blushed.

"Ok, but it's a long story." I sighed; it was indeed a long story.

A/N: I do not own Hogan's Hero's any character not familiar to you, is of my own creation. This is my first fic, so plz read and review.