Chapter 2 – Battening the Hatches

"If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change. If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change." - John A. Simone, Sr.

Two of the three men currently in the Colonel's quarters wholeheartedly shared Carter and LeBeau's foreboding but wisely kept it to themselves. Kinch helped Newkirk settle into the lower bunk whilst the Colonel pulled an extra blanket off the top one. He handed it to Newkirk.

"Here you go Peter. I want you to bundle up and keep yourself as warm as possible."

"Sorr-sorry…sir…," whispered Newkirk. "Didn't…mean…to…."

"No talking Peter!" said Kinch. "Remember Joe's instructions? I don't think he was kidding. Keep quiet so you don't do any more damage."

Newkirk nodded grudgingly as Kinch softened his stern words by gently grasping him at the shoulder.

The Colonel crouched down onto one knee beside the lower bunk. "It's not your fault Peter, you were carrying out my orders. Don't worry, we'll figure out some way for you to communicate. Now I want you to drink this tea then try to get some rest, okay?"

Newkirk took the mug and slowly sipped the warm, sweet liquid, grateful for its' soothing effect on his painful throat. After he finished it he handed the empty mug off to Kinch, yawning whilst he did so. As he hadn't really slept well at all the previous night, it didn't take long for him to drift off.

Colonel Hogan and Kinch quietly made their exit and moved to sit at the common table, where they were soon joined by Carter and LeBeau.

"Fellas, we need to figure out a plan while Newkirk's asleep. First order of business is to come up with an alternative method of communication he can use so he won't be tempted to speak." The Colonel looked at each of his men as he spoke, inviting their ideas.

"I know! Sign language!" Carter blurted out.

"Say what Andrew?" asked Kinch.

"Sign language! My cousin Angry Rabbit Who Has Thorn in Cottontail and I used to talk to each other that way all the time when we were kids." He began gesticulating wildly to illustrate his idea. "It's real easy! You learn the signs for each word and then you…."

LeBeau rolled his eyes heavenward before he cut Carter off in mid-gesture. "André, the situation is already bad enough, is it not?"

"Louis is right Little Deer, I don't think we want to do that," said the Colonel.

"Why not Colonel? I'll teach him! It'll be great because he'll have to use his hands and that'll keep his mind off not being able to smoke!""

Hogan sighed, "I really don't want to go into the details. Let's just say I don't think it's a good idea, okay?"

"Jeez, I'm just trying to help!" huffed Carter.

Kinch reached over to pat Carter on the back. "We know Andrew and we appreciate it." He looked over at the Colonel and said, "I think Andrew's right to want to keep Peter's hands occupied since he can't smoke right now. How about if he could write on something?"

"Good idea, Kinch. What can we use? Paper?"

"Well, we'd probably need more paper than we have on hand right now. Joe did tell him not to talk for at least the next week."

Hogan nodded, "You're right. What else could we use? Something reusable?"

"How about a chalkboard?" suggested Carter.

"Now you're talking Andrew!" said Kinch. "And I know exactly what we can use. The Krauts are re-roofing the kitchen building and there's a stack of slate roofing tiles over by the mess hall. We could split one in half lengthwise to make a writing slate."

"That's perfect Kinch!" The Colonel rose and moved to stand between Carter and LeBeau, then leaned down to drape a hand atop each of their shoulders. "Why don't you two secure us a few of those tiles?"

"Oui mon Colonel!"

"Will do sir!" Carter thought for a moment, then asked, "What about chalk?"

"I'll take care of that Andrew my boy," said the Colonel. "Just get over to the mess hall and get us those tiles. We're going to need them!"

"Yes sir!" nodded Carter. He and LeBeau got up, grabbed their coats and left.

The Colonel turned to his XO. "Kinch, would you mind keeping close in case Peter wakes up? I'll be back in a few minutes."

Kinch nodded, "No problem Colonel."

"Thanks!" The Colonel strode out the door in search of Schultz. He didn't have far to go as the barracks guard was hurrying across the compound on his way to the Kommandatur.

"Schultz!"

"Colonel Hogan? What are you doing out in this cold?"

"We've got a problem."

"Another one!?" The German guard's eyes widened in surprise.

Hogan shook his head, "No, the same one. You said we were to tell you if we needed anything."

"Ja," agreed Schultz warily. "I did say that."

"We need some chalk."

"Chalk? Was ist das?"

"You know, what you use to write on a slate? We called them chalkboards when I was in school."

"Oh die Tafel!"

"Right. Here's the story. Since Newkirk isn't supposed to be talking for at least the next week, we thought he could use a slate to write on instead. We've got the slate; all we need is chalk." As he spoke, he slowly eased around to Schultz' opposite side so that the German guard would automatically turn to face him, thus preventing him from observing LeBeau and Carter as they helped themselves to the slate roofing tiles.

"What do you say Schultz? It would sure make it easier on all of us but especially you." The Colonel reached out to lay a hand on Schultz' shoulder.

"On me? How?"

"Well, let's assume you refuse to get us the chalk. Newkirk can't communicate with us very well and he begins talking again. He completely ruins his voice and won't be able to speak for the rest of his life."

"And that is a bad thing how?" snickered Schultz.

Hogan assumed an exaggerated expression of shock. "You can't mean that Schultz! You know Newkirk. If he can't talk, he'll go crazy. He'll make up his mind to get back home to England and no one will be able to stop him. He will successfully escape and Klink's record will be ruined. Before you know it, it's good-bye Stalag 13 and hello to the Russian Front for both you and the Kommandant!"

Schultz' mouth dropped open as the Colonel shook his head sadly.

"And all because you wouldn't get us a measly box of chalk." Hogan sighed and held out his hand as if to shake Schultz'. "It was nice knowing you Schultz. Drop us a letter every once in a while if you can."

"N-n-no...Colonel Hogan!" Schultz whimpered. "I will get you all the chalk the Engländer needs! My nephew Wolfie has plenty of chalk. I will go tonight as soon as I am off duty! Tell Newkirk to stay where he is and to keep quiet, ja?"

The Colonel smiled. "I knew we could count on you Schultz!"


Kinch nudged the door to the Colonel's quarters open as quietly as possible to check on his English friend. Still asleep, thank goodness, he thought to himself. He closed the door and went to pour himself a cup of tepid coffee as he awaited the return of his comrades.

Carter and LeBeau were the first to arrive, with Carter supporting LeBeau as he staggered through the door. LeBeau immediately began unloading the heavy slate tiles from beneath his coat.

"Mon dieu, these are cold!" he exclaimed as he laid the tiles on the table.

Kinch helped him slide the tiles onto the table. "This is great Louis! These tiles needed to be warmed up so they won't shatter when we split them."

LeBeau shook his head in mock sing-song fashion. "Merci Kinch! Now I need to be warmed up!"

"I don't doubt it!" laughed Kinch.

They had just spread all of the tiles onto the table top when the Colonel came back in.

"We'll have all the chalk we need by tomorrow morning! Schultz will bring it before roll call."

"We'll have these tiles split by then Colonel," replied Kinch. He gestured to Carter. "Andrew, let's take these down into the tunnel and work on them."

Carter nodded and followed Kinch as he headed over to the bunk entrance to the tunnel, each with a slate in hand.

Colonel Hogan turned to his French Corporal. "Louis, what are your plans for nursing our voiceless Englishman back to health?"

LeBeau thought a moment then replied, "I still have some of grand-mère's balm. I thought I could use that with a warm compress on his throat along with hot tea with honey and warm soup."

The Colonel nodded, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Sounds good. What's going to happen when he begins feeling the effects of not being able to smoke?"

LeBeau shrugged. "I wish I could tell you mon Colonel. Unfortunately, I cannot see the future."

"You're right," sighed Hogan. "We'll just have to wait and see. I guess we're about as prepared as we're going to be."

"Oui," nodded LeBeau. I only hope it is enough!