August 12
Underground Station in Münster, Germany – 1030 Hours

Carter and I have been running away from Stalag 13 for three days now, across the damned country called Krautland, and have landed in the first station, which is countless miles away from Hammelburg.

I thought that we had wasted too much time already. We were supposed to get here late in the afternoon yesterday, but because of a Gestapo patrol in the woods of just south of Essen, Carter and I took a quick train ride from Essen to Münster. We had our fake German money ready to use, so there wasn't any suspicions as we boarded.

Carter was, to note, very quiet on the way to the first station here and only said words to ask which direction we were supposed to be in or if we were at our destination yet. The former question I always had a retort for, because I knew the shortest route to the first station was. Also, I had been through Germany once before on the disastrous H8WC mission. I also knew my way from Hammelburg to Münster through all the other missions we have had, although it'll take a little more time to remember where to head to when we to go the second Underground station in Osnabruck.

The latter inquiry, by the way, was answered sharply with a "No, Carter" and a sigh. This lasted until we reached the first station very early this morning. It is run by one of the Underground agents, codename Utopia, and his wife, codename Southern Cross. Both of them are elderly and carry loyalty to the Third Reich, so says their papers and the uniforms in the closet. Who knew who else they carried this loyalty to as well? Damn, this mission already has me suspicious of everyone I come into contact with.

Rob did inform me that, although all the Underground stations are to receive us and know we're coming, etc., etc., all agents in Germany for our side know that we're just going to England, and that's all. It is presumed that we're escaping, or even being called there, but they don't know the real reason we're heading there. I trust that Carter wouldn't be searching for any women on this mission (he's pretty good about it) or talk to anybody about what we're truly doing in England. I trust him to keep to himself. Already, he's doing a fine job and I only had to elbow him once in the ribs during breakfast.

Utopia had come out of the kitchen with his food and asked us the nature of the mission, as we were heading back to England. Carter started to babble in his German accent, "Oh, we're just going to get –" I was sitting next to Carter on his left and caught him in-between spooning some oatmeal into my mouth.

Utopia was baffled why I did that to Carter. I think he knew the secrecy of this mission when I replied, "We're just going to England on an assignment of utmost importance and its nature is unknown to us at this present moment."

The dining room in which we ate in was suddenly silent except for the scraping of spoons against bowls. Southern Cross was sitting next to me, keeping her eyes down, in fear that we were Nazis, I believe. Carter, rubbing his chest, knew that he couldn't be trusted to talk at the moment, so he let me smooth over the road for the next few minutes. Carter knew, as well, that Utopia was extremely distrustful of what we were going to do, what we might be doing in this mission and why he and the others were not informed of what was going on.

That was why more questions were raised by Utopia as we ate. He sat down at his place at the table and, after spooning some hot oatmeal into his own mouth, asked away. "Then why did Papa Bear send you? Does he know what you're both up to?"

Before Carter could speak and create more trouble, I talked. "Utopia, I don't think Papa Bear would know what such activities London wants us to execute." I almost winced at the word "execute" because it reminded me of so much, in its greater meaning. "If he knew what assignment we were given, we would have known for sure. I know he wouldn't keep such a great…undertaking…from us if he didn't know what it was to begin with."

Southern Cross raised her head and asked her questions. "So, you have no idea what you are to do? This is only some mysterious mission?"

"Frau," Carter said seriously in his German accent again, "like she said, we have no idea what we are to so or what our job is. All we know is that we have to go to England."

I can tell you that I appreciated what Carter was doing: using his German accent to fool others. I knew that it would come in handy, and with my German, carefully not integrated with my Yiddish and Russian, we could head in and out of Germany without trouble. All I have to do is keep calm.

However, their interrogation was not over yet. Utopia asked, "And what are we to call you two? Papa Bear only said that you were coming here and using the usual code, 'We must move forward' and we have to reply, 'And why should we house two houseless renegades?' He mentioned no names."

I was baffled with this one. What can they call us two without arousing Gestapo agents and everyone in Germany alike? If I said I was Desertstar, one of the famous agents of the Allied Forces, then it could cause a risk for everyone. I especially don't want Carter caught in the middle of this either.

I said, "Let's just say I'm a colonel of the United States army and my partner here is a sergeant of the same army. Refer to us by rank and if there is Gestapo or any other patrol, it is 'Andrew' and 'Nikki.' That would be sufficient." I finished breaking my fast by that time and continued. "I'll be packing up soon and heading to the next station. Thank you for housing us."

Carter took the hint, of leaving them to, so to say, digest what I've said (no pun intended) and followed me in our room despite him not finishing his breakfast. Our quarters, by the way, are in the attic – small but cozy and secret. Only a panel in the wall on the second floor will open the doorway that leads up here and if anyone thought about it, they could see from the outside that there is an attic with a very small window in the back, but there is no entranceway inside. It has a barn/farm feel to it, and sleeping in the back gives me a feeling of freedom.

Everything is ready to move for tomorrow morning. Carter is beside me here and is stretching his limbs and readying himself for a nap. We've already traveled many miles and escaped Gestapo agents and patrols and still have miles to go. Sleeping will do some good for us, spending three days without any. I think I'll follow Carter into the shores of sleep. These cots never looked so cozy before…