Thank you, Marilyn!
Hogan dragged himself from his bed the next morning, more exhausted than when he'd gotten into it. As feared, the nightmares had come again, one right after another in an unbroken chain of horror. What he'd endured couldn't be considered sleep, but torture. His mind had become his own worst enemy.
He sat slumped on the edge of his rumpled bed, face buried in his hands, trying to find the strength to get up. Roll call was only minutes away and he still wasn't dressed. He was exhausted, both in body and in spirit. Yet for his men's sake, he had to summon that same determination that had seen him through the night before. He had to get back on his feet and back into command – whether he felt like it or not.
Hearing footsteps approaching his door, he forced his head up and readied a calm expression. There was a light rap on the doorframe and Kinch looked inside.
"Good morning, sir."
"Kinch," Hogan said, straightening his drooping posture. He could only imagine how bad he must look. His hair was tousled and badly needed washing and judging by the loose fit of his pajamas, his weight had to be down by well over ten pounds.
Kinch regarded him for a long moment, then stepped inside and closed the door. "Colonel, would you like some help getting dressed?"
The offer was welcome. Hogan knew he'd never make roll call on time on his own. His body was still weak and sore, slow to react properly.
"Sure. Thanks."
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Schultz came to Hogan's place in the formation and stopped dead in his count. A smile spread across his face and his eyes crinkled with pleasure. His arms rose as if to wrap Hogan in a big, bear hug. Hogan braced himself for what was certain to be another painful experience. His men started to intervene, but to everyone's relief, Schultz stopped just short of the exuberant embrace.
"Colonel Hogan!"
The boisterous greeting battered at Hogan's ragged defenses. He managed a smile – or at least some form of one.
"Morning, Schultz."
"You are feeling better now?" Schultz's volume dropped in concern.
Sarcastic replies flew through Hogan's mind, but he limited his response to a single word.
"Yes."
Kinch leaned forward from the second rank. "Look alive, Schultz. Klink at twelve o'clock."
Schultz whirled about and went to deliver his report. Klink nodded through it all, his gaze not upon Schultz, but Hogan.
"Very good, very good," Klink murmured once Schultz had finished.
Time passed. Klink continued to study Hogan, while Schultz and the prisoners waited to be dismissed. Hogan stared straight ahead, unwilling to make eye contact with Klink and give the German reason to engage him in conversation.
"Herr Kommandant?" Schultz whispered, when Klink continued looking Hogan's way. Schultz's gaze cut back and forth between the two men, and then he moved even closer. "Herr Kommandant?"
Klink jerked out of his reverie, glanced back at Schultz and hop-stepped backward in surprise. "What is it, Schultz?"
Schultz's eyebrows quirked and he made a vague gesture toward the prisoners.
"Dismissed!" Klink snapped, embarrassed at being caught staring and lost in thought. Schultz, mouth pursed in puzzlement, returned his salute, executed an about-face and left to attend to the rest of his duties. Klink huffed something incomprehensible under his breath, shot another glance at Hogan from under the brim of his cap, and marched back into his headquarters.
Hogan's men formed a tight knot around him, solicitous questions regarding his health flying thick and fast. Kinch glimpsed the sudden tightening around Hogan's eyes and moved quickly. Planting himself in front of Hogan to protect him from inadvertent jostling, Kinch raised his voice loud enough to be heard over the noise.
"Come on, give him some room."
The press of bodies immediately pulled back, leaving a comfortable cushion of space around Hogan. Kinch turned to his CO, expecting comments about mother-hens and was surprised when none came.
Hogan briefly contemplated the clear sky before looking around camp as if settling on a plan of action. O'Malley frowned.
"Sir, I don't mean to be a nosy nag, but what is it you're thinking right now?"
Hogan's answer was exactly what he expected, delivered in a tone that allowed no argument.
"I was thinking some exercise is just what I needed."
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Klink peered out of his office window. It was good to see Hogan out and about again, even if he was still thin and pale . . . and had dark lines around his eyes . . . and didn't seem very strong yet.
The senior prisoner of war had taken a short walk around camp and now was seated upon one of the benches outside Barracks Two. A small crowd of men milled around his immediate vicinity or stood a short distance away. Kinchloe leaned against the wall just to Hogan's right, while O'Malley stood to his left, arms folded and face drawn into a scowl. Klink leaned toward the glass and squinted, surprised at how subdued Hogan looked seated between them.
Klink leaned so far forward that he bumped his nose against the pane. Yanking his handkerchief from his pocket, he hurriedly wiped the smear away and stared across the yard again. A thought suddenly occurred to him. Just to confirm it, he flipped the latch on the windows and pushed them open.
Even at this distance, he could hear the men joking and laughing. The Englander's voice briefly rose above the others, in all likelihood delivering the punch line to a joke. Fresh laughter broke out and Newkirk beamed, obviously pleased at the response.
Klink frowned. It was a common scene, one he had observed countless times - but for one detail.
Hogan had yet to smile or join in.
A panel truck drove up to the front gates. Klink's attention shifted that way and his frown deepened. Schnitzer, their dog handler, was not due to return with fresh dogs for several days.
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"He's early."
Hogan stood, his eyes locked upon the scene at the front gates. Schultz was arguing with Schnitzer through the truck's open window, gesticulating and likely telling the dog handler the very same thing. Hogan cocked his head toward Kinch, his gaze remaining upon the animated discussion.
"You have any idea why he's here?"
"No, sir." Kinch rubbed a finger over his mustache, wondering what possible reason Schnitzer would have for coming without advance notice. He hoped it wasn't more trouble. Hogan was still not in any shape to deal with it, even if he would insist on trying.
Hogan carefully shifted his weight onto one hip, watched Schultz throw his hands up and step back from the truck. At his signal, the guards opened the gates and Schnitzer drove inside, headed for the kennels.
"Looks like he won the argument," Hogan murmured, watching the truck go by.
Newkirk turned to him. "Do you want I should dash on over there, Colonel?"
"Yeah. LeBeau, Carter, go with him."
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Schnitzer was just walking to the truck's back doors when Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau snuck close to the kennels. They were about to make their next move when Schultz's bellow stopped them cold.
"Schnitzer!"
The elderly dog handler rolled his eyes and turned away from the truck's doors. Schultz was puffing and red-faced from his quick trip on foot from the gates to the kennels. He bent forward and braced his hands on his thighs, straining for breath. Schnitzer patted him on the back, sympathy on his wizened features.
"You should not eat so much strudel, Schultz."
"Jah, jah," Schultz gasped, slowly straightening.
"Or so much viener schnitzel, either," Newkirk added, ambling over as he had only been passing by. He clapped Schultz on the shoulder, at the same time, angling the guard away from the back of the truck.
"Jah, jah." Schultz nudged Newkirk aside and joined Schnitzer at the truck's back doors. "I still do not understand why you have brought us more dogs," he complained.
Schnitzer balled his fists on his hips and spoke with an air of weary patience. "I did not bring you more dogs. I brought you one dog. Langer has been a real Tiger and needs work. He can take Heidi's place and you will have the same number of dogs as before."
Carter and LeBeau glanced at each other, suddenly understanding the reason for Schnitzer's unscheduled visit. Carter peeked around the corner of the building, made eye contact with Newkirk and nodded their readiness. Newkirk threw an arm across Schultz's shoulders and drew him away from the back of the truck again.
"Did I ever tell you about the dog I had as a wee tot, Schultzie?"
Carter ran to the kennels, raised the sliding section of fence and slipped under it. Letting it drop, he ran to one of the doghouses and lifted the front of it off the ground while LeBeau dashed to the truck.
Schnitzer quickly opened the doors and beckoned his passenger out. LeBeau took Tiger's hand and hustled her into the kennels and the tunnel hidden by the doghouse. Once they were below ground, Carter joined them, lowering the doghouse back into place as he descended. Schnitzer released Langer, a burly, black Alsatian into the kennels with the other dogs. Heidi, a svelte black and fawn-colored Alsatian half Langer's size, bounded to Schnitzer's side at his hand signal. He was just leading her out of the kennel to the truck when Newkirk allowed Schultz to turn back around.
"Ah!" Schultz cried, spotting Heidi and going to a knee before her. "You be a good girl for Uncle Schnitzer, jah?"
Heidi's hackles rose and she lowered her head, curling her lip to reveal an impressive set of razor-sharp teeth. Her snarl would have made a grizzly proud. Schultz quickly stood and backed away with a weak chuckle to Newkirk and Schnitzer.
"She loves me."
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"Ma cherie," LeBeau cooed, pecking Tiger upon each cheek. "It is so good to see you again!" He wrapped her in a tight hug, smiling as she returned it with equal enthusiasm.
"You took a big chance coming here without giving us any warning, ma'am." Carter gestured to the tunnel ceiling. "We might not have been around to run interference."
One of Tiger's shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. "Then Schnitzer and I would have thought of something."
LeBeau shot a quelling look at Carter, then turned another smile upon Tiger. "And it would have been brilliant."
"Ma'am," Carter interrupted, ignoring LeBeau's narrow-eyed expression of displeasure. "If you don't mind me asking, is this visit for the colonel's sake?"
Tiger's beautiful face lost all animation. "Oui."
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"Colonel –"
"Ben," Hogan sighed, walking into Barracks Two. "I know my limitations --"
"Begging the colonel's pardon," O'Malley cut in. "But I'm not so sure you'll respect them."
Hogan stopped at the communal table and leveled a glare at his medic. O'Malley stood firm before it, arms folding tight against his chest.
"You're only just getting your feet back under you again. I'd hate for you to overdo it right off the top and end up flat on your back and hurting more than you are now."
Hogan's expression softened. "I promise--" he fell silent, his gaze cutting to the tunnel entrance as the bunk over it slid up on its pulleys. Carter climbed out, flashed a grin at Hogan and then moved away from the entrance. LeBeau stepped out next, turned and extended a hand to Tiger. She gracefully climbed up and over the bunk frame, her large, expressive eyes already locked upon Hogan's face. She remained beside LeBeau on the other side of the table, as if uncertain of his welcome.
"Olsen," Hogan called over his shoulder, aware of her studying him with slightly widened eyes.
"Nothing, sir." Olsen glanced back at Hogan from his post at the door. "All clear."
Hogan suppressed a sigh and motioning for Tiger to follow, turned and headed for his quarters.
Thank you for reading!
To be continued . . .