Chapter 16---The Wait and Memories Continue

Hogan continued pacing in his quarters well after his legs began to ache and he felt as if they would give way at any moment. He checked his watch. It had only been over an hour since Kinch and Carter had left. C'mon, Rob. You're going to drive yourself crazy if you don't calm down. They haven't been gone that long. He knew Kinch and Carter could take care of themselves; but they had a pregnant woman to care for as well, and with Guthrie in camp anything was liable to happen. It reminded Hogan of another long wait in his life at a time when his world was turned upside down again.

It had been nearly two months of waiting; waiting for some word on his father. To young Robert, it was the longest period of his young life. With each passing day, the family hoped the following day would be the day news would come only to be disappointed yet again. Robert found the waiting unbearable; waiting was not something he did very well, and like his father, nor was he a very patient individual.

Then one day after a third month was about to end, things were about to change with the ringing of the doorbell. Robert raced to the door followed by his younger brothers and sisters to find the mailman standing there holding a single envelope. To Robert, the mail carrier had an almost solemn look on his face as he handed the thirteen-year-old an envelope before turning and walking down the short steps before heading to the next house on his route. Hogan looked at the envelope; it was from the U.S. Army.

"Mom!" he shouted as he and his siblings raced into the kitchen where his mother was wiping her hands on a towel after finishing the dishes. Hearing her eldest call her, she met her children half-way when she noticed the envelope in Robert's hand. "It's a telegram from the Army," he said. Sandra took the telegram from her son and walked back into the kitchen where she slowly sat down at the kitchen table, the envelope held in trembling hands, staring at it. The children all gathered in front of her, waiting.

"Aren't you going to open it, mom?" asked Sarah who, even at nine, had some idea that envelope might be about her father. In fact, only Robert at thirteen, and the twins John Robert and Katherine who were eleven, understood exactly what was happening, while Michael Thomas who was ten and his sister Sarah who was nine didn't understood anything that was happening except that something was keeping their father away from home.

Sandra ripped open the envelope and read the contents of the telegram silently:

'Report just received through the International Red Cross states that your husband, Colonel Robert Michael Hogan, is a POW of the German Government. A Letter of Information will follow from the Provost Marshal General.'

Sandra, pressing the paper to her chest, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. The corners of her mouth turned upward ever so slightly.

"Mom?" asked John Robert, concerned.

Opening her eyes again, Sandra looked at her children with moist eyes. "Your father's alive," she said in a trembling voice. "He's alive but is a prisoner-of-war in Germany."

"What's a prisoner-of-war?" asked Sarah, confused. She had heard the term before but wasn't quite sure what it meant being the youngest.

Robert looked at his sister. "That's when the soldiers of one country capture a soldier of another country and hold him against his will." He then faced his mother. "But dad's alive?"

"Yes. Your father is alive." As the tears started to roll down her cheeks, Sandra engulfed all five of her children in her arms tightly. "He's alive. He's alive," she kept repeating.

Hogan shook his head to clear his mind. That was the worst day of my life back then or so I thought at the time. But comparing the time he waited to know whether his father was alive or dead was up there with waiting for two of his men to return. He had that same helpless feeling now that he did then. Why didn't I go with them? he asked himself letting out a deep breath staring up at the ceiling. He then rubbed the back of his neck as he paced. You know damn well why you couldn't go, Rob. It's because of Guthrie. Damn him! Hogan remembered what Klink had said that he would be at the Major's mercy if he caught him outside the wire. But what if he caught Carter and Kinch outside the wire? That, to Hogan, would be even worse. He checked his watch again. It was now nearly ninety minutes since they had left. He was starting to worry. Getting to the meeting place and back shouldn't be taking this long.

G-d, please let them have gotten Mrs. von Herwarth safely to the underground and return to camp safely. Please watch over them. Hogan tightly gripped the Star-of-David in his hand.

Later that same day, Robert sat on the front steps of his home with his chin resting on his knees and arms wrapped around his bent legs. He was staring at nothing in particular, just thinking. Thinking about what it actually meant to be a prisoner-of-war. He and his father had discussed what a prisoner-of-war was; so Robert was quite familiar with the term itself, but knowing what the term meant was completely different from knowing what it really meant to be one. From what he understood, being a POW meant losing your freedom, not being able to do what you wanted when you wanted, being told what to do by someone and when to do it; but most importantly, being separated from those you love by people you didn't even know or have any contact with. He sighed wondering what he would do if he ever became a POW during wartime. He had no idea if he could handle it. He wondered how his father was handling things. Robert knew his father was a strong-minded, determined man who spoke his mind, and young Robert wondered how the Germans would deal with someone like that. A cold chill permeated his body just then as a horrible thought came to him. Suppose the Germans didn't like his father speaking his mind and refusing to accept being a prisoner-of-war. What would they do? From what he had learned about the German military, they did not care for Americans and mistreated them; and his father being an officer would only make things worse. He suspected the Germans would interrogate his father endlessly and mercilessly and that belief terrified him. Would his father survive the interrogation? Would they torture his father to get whatever information they wanted from him? He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, determined to keep his feelings in check. He had sworn he would never let anyone know how or what he felt, but this was too much to deal with alone. He figured he would discuss what he was feeling with his uncle and maybe his grandfather. All he knew was that he had to believe his father would survive and come home to them; he just had to come back.

Hogan sighed as he stared at the ceiling again. "You did come back, dad. You made it back to us." His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. "Come in," he said.

The door opened and Newkirk looked in. "Colonel, thought you'd like to know Kinch and Carter just got back."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "Thanks, Newkirk."

"Yes sir," the Englander replied starting to close the door, but suddenly paused; his eyes narrowing. "Gov'nor, you all right?"

Hogan allowed a small grin to appear. "I'm fine, Newkirk. Just thinking too much as usual. Part of the job description."

"Right, sir." Newkirk knew better than to pry. His commander was a very private man and would talk only when and if he was ready and not before. So, Newkirk pulled his head back and closed the door quietly. Alone again, Hogan looked skyward and smiled.

"Thank you," was all he said. Then with a smile, he tucked the Star-of-David back inside his shirt and exited his quarters.

LeBeau and Newkirk were seated at the table when the door to Hogan's quarters opened and he appeared.

"Kinch and Carter still below?" Hogan asked as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau replied. "They should be up shortly."

It was seconds later that the bunk covering the hidden tunnel entrance in the barracks rattled upward and Carter climbed into the barracks. "Sorry we're late, Colonel. Kinch will be up in a few minutes," the young Sergeant explained. "He's explaining to von Herwarth about his wife being safely handed over to the underground."

Hogan nodded. "Any problems?"

"We ran into a Kraut patrol after we had handed Mrs. von Herwarth over to the underground, but fortunately they didn't see us. But they stopped to take a break right in front of where we had hidden the car and we had to wait for them to leave before we could move." He looked around as Kinch appeared from below. The radioman struck the hidden mechanism and the lower bunk rattled downward over the tunnel opening. He let out a deep breath.

"I guess Carter told you we had a small problem getting back here," Kinch said.

"Yeah, he told us," Hogan replied before taking a drink of coffee. "Sounds like both of you were lucky you weren't spotted by that patrol."

"You're right," Kinch said. "And that wasn't the worst of it."

Hogan's eyes narrowed as he, LeBeau and Newkirk exchanged looks before the trio looked at Kinch.

"What else happened?" the Colonel asked his radioman, concerned.

"When we got back, we noticed there were extra Luftwaffe patrols in the woods outside the camp. It was sheer luck we were able to make it down into the tunnel without being seen." It was then Kinch noticed the others turn their attention to the explosives expert, and were giving him odd looks.

"Why are you all looking at Carter like that?" Kinch asked.

Carter glanced at the radioman, embarrassed. "I hadn't gotten to that part yet."

"Oh. Sorry," Kinch said.

Hogan shook his head. "I'm just glad you guys made it back safely and that Mrs. von Herwarth is safely in the hands of the underground. How did von Herwarth take the news?"

"He seemed relieved everything went well when I told him," Kinch said.

Newkirk looked up at his commander. "Colonel, how come Klink didn't tell you about the extra patrols being out tonight? I mean, he didn't seem like he was hiding anything."

"Because I don't believe the extra patrols was Klink's idea," Hogan said with a sigh. "It was Guthrie's. I suspect Klink had no plans to increase the patrols outside the camp before Guthrie ordered him to or he would've warned me about it."

"What do you expect from a filthy Bosche?" asked LeBeau fighting to control his anger.

"That lousy Kraut bastard," Newkirk muttered.

Hogan took another drink of coffee. "My sentiments exactly," he said. "Hopefully these patrols won't interfere with the underground getting Mrs. von Herwarth to the airfield tomorrow night." He paused for a few minutes. "I may have to talk Klink into pulling those patrols before tomorrow night."

"Think you can convince him with Guthrie around, mon Colonel?"

"No. So I'll just do when Guthrie isn't around," Hogan replied with a smirk.

Guthrie was still awake in the guest quarters going over the file folders of the prisoners. He was still fuming over the Kommandant releasing the other Jewish prisoners as well as the two guards. But when he and Klink returned to the Kommandant's office, he had ordered Klink to have extra patrols outside the camp with the threat he would have Major Hochstetter arrive in the morning and inquired which would Klink rather have; dealing with Major Hochstetter or simply order extra patrols outside the camp? Klink, who had looked so bold when he got back to his office, wilted quickly at the mention of Hochstetter and ordered the patrols. Once that was done, Guthrie retired to the guest quarters.

It was all Hogan's fault as far as Guthrie was concerned. Hogan and that weakling Klink. And while he couldn't do anything about Klink, he could do something about Hogan. But what? He couldn't kill him because he needed him alive to catch von Herwarth. But, perhaps he could convince him somehow. But how? Having gone through all the folders again, he had saved Hogan's folder for last. Looking through it for the third time, he suddenly smirked as his eyes caught sight of something. How could I have missed this?

It was then the telephone rang and Guthrie answered it suspecting who it was. "Guthrie," he said. "Yes, sir. No sir, Colonel Hogan still isn't agreeing to help me. In fact, the Kommandant here just released the Jewish prisoners I was holding in solitary. Sir, I did discover something in Colonel Hogan's file that I apparently overlooked earlier." He then proceeded to tell his superior as to what he had found in the American's file. "I agree sir but I'd rather not use it if I can avoid doing so. But, sir…." Suddenly Guthrie swallowed hard. "I understand, sir. If I can't do it you'll send somebody out here who will." He let out a deep breath. "Understood sir." Guthrie hung up the phone knowing he now had no choice in the matter.

He quickly snatched his attache case up from the floor and removed the rectangular box, laying the attache case on the bed. He opened the box and stared at the contents. Well Colonel, I didn't want to use this on you, but seems I no longer have a choice in the matter. Closing the case, Guthrie sat it on the night table; then put the file folders back in the attache case and sat it on the floor between the night table and the bed. He would use it tomorrow on Hogan, but first he had to not only get him alone, but make sure the American didn't know until the appropriate time that he was the one responsible.

Morning roll call came and went without incident with Schultz back as Sergeant-of-the-Guard. While the prisoners grumbled at having to fall out for roll call, they were secretly happy to have Schultz back. But there was a surprise at roll call; Major Guthrie was not present. After the men had been dismissed, Hogan decided to approach the Kommandant about the extra patrols.

"Kommandant?" Hogan asked before Klink could leave.

The Kommandant turned to the American. "Yes, Hogan. What is it?"

"What happened to Major Nightmare this morning?"

Klink shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. All he told me was he wouldn't be present at roll call this morning, and that he'd be busy until this evening." He leaned closer to Hogan. "Frankly I think he's still upset with me for releasing everyone he'd locked up."

Hogan hooked his thumbs in the side pockets of his jacket. He became worried what Guthrie was up to that would keep him busy until evening; but he hid it from Klink. He smirked instead. "Always knew the Gestapo were a bunch of sore losers."

Klink sighed wearily despite having not been awake that long. "Hogan, I'm sure you didn't stop me just to talk about Major Guthrie. Now what is it you want?"

"I want to talk to you about the extra patrols you ordered last night for outside the camp, sir."

Klink stared at his American counterpart in surprise. "How did you know about the extra patrols, Hogan?" He eyed him suspiciously.

"I heard the guards talking about it, Kommandant," Hogan replied with a grin. "You know you can't keep a secret in here. This place is like a beauty parlor, sir. Gossip all the time. Now, about those patrols."

"They were Major Guthrie's idea. He ordered me to either have the extra patrols assigned outside the camp, or he would have Major Hochstetter come here this morning. The last thing I need, Hogan, is to have Major Hochstetter here as well as Major Guthrie."

Sighing, Hogan pursed his lips and shook his head. "Kommandant, that's the oldest trick in the Gestapo book of tricks. Guthrie's playing you again."

Klink's eyes narrowed. "Playing me again? What do you mean? You don't believe Major Guthrie would have Major Hochstetter come out here?"

"Are you kidding. Hochstetter outranks Guthrie. Besides, do you think for a minute Hochstetter would send somebody out here knowing he can't handle things on his own? That's like Hitler taking a guided tour of London; it isn't going to happen. Guthrie knows how you feel about Hochstetter and he used that to make sure you ordered the patrols." He chuckled. "And you fell for it hook, line and sinker, sir."

Klink looked embarrassed. "We'll see about that, Hogan. If Major Guthrie thinks he can threaten me again he's sadly mistaken. Effective immediately, the extra patrols will be canceled. I'll show him who's running Stalag 13."

Hogan feigned concern. "Better think it over before you decide, Kommandant."

Klink shook his fist at Hogan. "I don't have to think over anything. I'm in charge around here! The patrols will be canceled immediately." He abruptly turned and stormed away back in the direction of the Kommandantur leaving a smirking Hogan watching his receding back. His team gathered around him.

"That was a thing of beauty, Gov'nor," said Newkirk admiringly.

"Manifique, Colonel."

"Great going, Colonel," said Kinch.

Carter had a lopsided grin on his face. "Boy, Colonel. You sure know how to get to Klink."

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself. "Yeah, but what worries me is what Guthrie is up to that's going to keep him occupied until this evening. Kinch, I think it's time we plant a bug in the Major's guest quarters." He glanced over his shoulder. "Can you do it?"

"No sweat," Kinch replied. "When do you want it done?"

"Klink said Guthrie will be occupied until this evening. We'll wait and see if he leaves his quarters this evening. If he does, I want you to sneak into his quarters and plant a listening device."

"What's the purpose of the bug for, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan glanced at him. "Hopefully this way we'll find out whether he's Gestapo or not. And if he's not, maybe we'll find out who he really is."

The remainder of the day was uneventful in terms of there was no sign of Guthrie at all. In fact, evening roll call had come and gone with no sign of the Major. Hogan decided now that it was dark to sneak out of the barracks and try to get Guthrie's attention. As he, Newkirk and Kinch left the barracks, Hogan advised them to keep out of sight and he would lure Guthrie out of the guest quarters and in the direction of the barracks; then, the two of them were to head for the guest quarters and plant the bug.

Hogan, keeping to the shadows, edged his way towards the guest quarters where Guthrie was staying. When he finally reached the guest quarters, Hogan was surprised to see all the lights were out and the interior dark. Hugging the side of the building, the Colonel made his way to where the bedroom was and looked through the closed window trying to see if he could make out anything or anybody. With the sliver of moonlight, he could barely make out what appeared to be a sleeping form in the bed.

"Damn," he muttered softly. Why did Guthrie have to be in bed asleep now? But despite what he saw, Hogan's gut told him something was not right. Feeling he'd better return to the barracks he turned and started back and had gotten only a few steps when he suddenly stopped and looked around. He had the oddest feeling eyes were watching him even though he didn't see anybody. Turning, he took a few more steps when something struck the back of his head hard causing him to drop to his knees before falling onto his side. He fought unconsciousness and confusion from the blow to his head, and tried to stay awake to see who had hit him, but it was a losing battle. As things began to turn to black he felt someone pushing up the right sleeve of his leather jacket. "Who…" Hogan mumbled trying to sit up and see who was with him, and falling sideways again as he felt his shirt sleeve pushed upward and something prick his arm; then, his shirt sleeve was rolled down as was the sleeve of his jacket.

Seconds later, Hogan began wheezing as he felt his throat starting to close and his tongue beginning to swell inside his mouth making it extremely difficult to breathe before blackness completely overcame him.