The next morning was met by groans, moans, and curses. The early light slithering its way in through the shutters and through the men's eyelids. Each man crawling his way out of his lumpy, cold nest in order to ready himself for the daily grind.
Carter on the other hand, stayed put. He, like the others was awake, but was too embarrassed, having realized he had woken the others, not once, not twice, but a total of three times last night because of night terrors. His pride felt shattered. He was scared, homesick, alone, confused, in pain, miserable, and downright upset. Newkirk who had finished dressing and had a cup of coffee from LeBeau in his hand sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk.
"'Ey mate. Want a spot of coffee? Rather, 'ot water with a 'alf a coffee bean 'n it?" Newkirk received no answer. He probed again. "Aw, come-on mate. It ain't all 'at bad. Sure it tastes like dirt, actually dirt probably tastes be'er but, it ain't all 'at bad." He stilled received no reply. "Look. Andrew. Ya don't 'ave to pretend you're asleep. We've all 'ad 'em. Even me. There is a reason I sleep on the bottom bunk. I used ta thrash so much meself, I tossed meself onto this 'ere table. Nearly broke it, I did." Carter immediately sat up and turned around, causing the world to spin.
"You…you did?"
"That's right. I did." Newkirk paused a moment trying to squash his own memories of the first few months of his time there. "But they got better."
"How?" Carter's eyes were wide. They reminded Newkirk of a puppy. He hesitated, he wasn't one for sharing his feelings. That was more for LeBeau, or Kinch.
"Everyone is different. You deal with it in your own way. 'Ow did you deal with it last time-"
"ROLL CALL!" Schultz entered the barracks, banging his hand on the bunk that Carter and Newkirk were sitting on. Carter placed his hand from his good arm on his head. His head was killing him. "Everybody out. Raus! Macht schnell! Raus mit euch! Geh ma', geh ma', geh ma'! (Out! Hurry up! Everyone out! Go, go, go!)" Schultz herded them out the door. Newkirk sighed, having his moment stolen just when he was going to get the very answer he wanted. Standing up and setting the "coffees" on the table, he helped Carter off the bottom bunk and towards he door. Schultz stopped them for a moment on the way out.
"Are you okay Sergeant Carter? You look terrible. Your nightmares last night must have been terrible." Schultz's eyes searched the boy's face like a father looking at the well-being of a son. Carter on the other hand turned beet red. Newkirk intervened.
"'E's fine Schultzie. Now we don't wanna miss roll call, right?"
"What? Oh right." Schultz hurried them out the door and took his position left of the group and started counting. Newkirk kept a close eye on Carter, not because he was worried about him being a plant, but rather he was afraid the poor guy was going to fall over. Carter was swaying slightly and cringing his eyes as if to find any last attempt to fight off a total overtake of a massive headache. Hogan also noticed the boy's discomfort, and made a mental note to fetch Wilson immediately after roll call. Roll call however seemed to drag on, and on, and on. Klink, who was in a terrifyingly delightful mood, I will need to check into that cause of that after fetching Wilson, Hogan plotted, was gleefully telling the men of the latest propaganda reports, and how the men should feel so fortunate to be at Stalag 13. Tapping his foot, Hogan was going from annoyed, to downright frustrated at the length of Klink's speech.
"-you see, that is why it will be our glorious Germany who in the end will win this war. Now I know that those of you who are Americans may disagree, but Hamburgers really will be your downfall in the end. The latest casualty reports show that because of-"
"Excuse me Herr Kommandant." Hogan had finally had enough.
"Ah, I thought as much. Hogan, I know that you have your American pride and believe that-"
"No, sir, I was just wondering if we could hurry it up a bit, all of us want to get back to reading our copy of Mein Kampf. We were just getting to the good part, where it talks about taking over the universe."
"Oh. I see." Klink was momentarily confused. "I don't remember that part….I should read it again I suppose…." He muttered under his breath, before turning to Schultz. "Na gut. Sind alle die Männer da, Feldwebel Schultz? (Good. Are all the men there, Sergeant Schultz?)"
„Ja, olla die Männa sind vorzählig versammelt, Herr Kommandant. (Yes, all the men are accounted for, Herr Kommandant.)"
„Gut. Weeeeeggetreten! (Good. Diiiiiiismissed!)"
„Dismissed! Geh ma', geh ma', geh ma'! Everyone, back, back, back, back!" Schultz started motioning them back into the barracks, however none of the men were in a rush to be shoved back indoors and were rather enjoying mocking Schultz's "back" by flapping their arms and making clucking "bawk" noises. Hogan managed to slip out in the confusion and make his way over to the men in barracks 9.
"Doc Wilson! Doc!" Wilson turned at the sound of his commander's voice.
"Colonel! Sir! Is there something wrong?" Wilson was always uneasy around his CO. Usually when he approached it was due to some injury that one of the Colonel's main men sustained on a mission outside the fence. Wilson never asked where they went, he felt it wasn't his place, and in the end, it was probably better if he didn't know. Otherwise, Hogan tended to avoid the man like the plague.
"Follow me, we'll talk on the way." Hogan motioned for him to follow back towards barracks 2. "We received a new man yesterday…"
"I heard something about that. Please go on, Sir."
"And he injured himself falling off the top bunk last night, I just want you to take a look at him. He hit his head and arm pretty hard when he fell."
"Alight colonel. I'll see what I can do for him." The two finished the brisk walk in silence, entering the barracks without speaking a word. Wilson easily IDed the new man lying on the bottom bunk near the door. Walking over to him, he took a death breath, and pulled up one of the benches.
"Hey…um…." Wilson quickly realized he forgot to asked Hogan the boy's name.
"Carter." Kinch whispered from behind.
"Carter. My name is Joe Wilson. I was wondering if I could help you with that headache you gotta be feeling about now." Wilson leaned forward, keeping his voice low. Carter rolled over and opened his eyes.
"Does everyone in camp know I fell outta bed?" Carter didn't look Wilson in the face.
"No. But the Colonel asked me to come and check you out. I'm the camp medic. Sergeant Joseph Wilson at your service."
"Oh." Carter was tired, and wanted to go back to sleep, but allowed Wilson to check him over, barely moving through the whole procedure as sleep began to blissfully take over. Wilson sighed as he stood up, walking a few steps over to where Hogan was standing.
"How is he?" Hogan asked, sipping his cup of hot water.
"Fine for the most part. He banged his head pretty good on the trip down, but it should heal in a few days, and he sprained his arm, but other than a few nasty bruises, nothing that won't heal with time…." Wilson got a far off look in his eyes thinking about his own nightmares that still haunt him. Hogan understood Wilson's underlying meaning and the gaze in his eyes. He paused a moment, as both men felt helpless to help the boy.
"Thanks, Wilson."
"I will try and see if I can beg my way into getting us some aspirin. But with the supply lines being cut, and all our medical supplies from Geneva being swiped and sent to Moscow…"
"Just do what you can."
"Yes, sir." With that Wilson slipped out of the barracks and crossed the yard heading towards the Infirmary. Hogan watched him from the window, before being startled out of his thoughts by Kinch.
"What did Wilson say, Colonel?"
"Hu-wha? Oh! Carter will be fine, provided he doesn't fall off a cliff." Hogan sighed. Kinch could tell there was more on his mind than he was letting on, and he felt guilty about what he was going to say next.
"Um, Colonel…"
"Yes Kinch?"
"Perhaps we should talk in your office." The two turned and Hogan led the way into the side room.
"What is it?"
"I got the report from the night radio man." Kinch pulled out a piece of paper. Hogan had completely forgotten about London in the mess with Carter. Usually he got the report first thing in the morning. Unfolding it, he read the message, and immediately slumped into his chair at his desk.
"What would you like to do, sir? Carter is now sleeping directly next to the tunnel entrance."
"Did London say anything about being able to ID the guy?"
"No, Colonel. In fact, these orders came through a contact in Berlin. All communication with London has been terminated until further notice until they can solve their issue with the mole in their intelligence." Kinch stated matter of factly. Hogan was stunned. No contact with London? At all?
"They want this done tomorrow tonight?"
"Yes, sir. They said tomorrow tonight is the only night available to grab both the convoy and the train it is meeting up with. The convoy usually drives south to Frankfurt am Main to meet up with the supply train, but with the underground blowing up tracks all over the place, they have re-rooted it to the east, and as a special treat for us, we get to blow up both of them."
"Seems easy enough, as long as we aren't being greedy. Couldn't the underground take this one? I don't mind sharing."
"No sir. The underground in this area is currently working on taking out the theatrical version of Mein Kampf " Kinch leaned against Hogan's bunk. Hogan sighed, before suddenly jumping out of his seat.
"Our explosives! We don't have any explosives!"
"Holy cats! You're right, sir! We used the last of them on the truck with the rocket fuel."
"Uhh! What we need is for London to send us an explosions expert if they want us to keep this up. Otherwise I am quite happy, even with all the good we are doing, to just get the hell out of here and get back home…."
"Colonel….I, I may have an idea….the new kid, Carter,…he….he told me he once blew up his chemistry lab, and that he used to play with this chemistry set…."
"Go on, Kinch."
"Well, sir…he just might be our explosions expert…." Kinch explained to Hogan the conversation that they had had yesterday. Hogan listened with interest, but quickly dismissed the idea.
"I don't like it Kinch. This is exactly the kind of trick I can foresee the Krauts trying to pull on us. Not Klink or Schultz, but it's been a few months since we had a spy in here, and it's about time we are due for another one. But then again, if Carter really is a spy he's the best I've seen. And I have a bone to pick with whoever is toying with our emotions like this." Hogan began to pace. Kinch stepped out of his way, and sat down on the bed. Hogan paused a moment as he realized that in-fact, the last spy they had was the last time Carter had come through, five months ago.
"Colonel, what other choice do we have? Why don't you go and talk to him, give him your usual run-through. Check him out yourself, sir. I honoustly don't believe he is a German spy. No spy would pretend to have nightmares bad enough to throw themselves quite literally out of bed." Kinch pointed out. Hogan thought for a moment, before sighing, and realizing that Kinch was right. It was time to go check out the boy himself.
-HH- -EKvH- -HH- -EKvH- -HH- -EKvH-
Hogan took a deep breath, and stepped out into the common room. He found Carter starring up at the ceiling, or rather the underside of Newkirk's current bunk. Sorting out what he had to say, he crossed over to the boy. The rest of the men were out enjoying the afternoon, and so the barrack was empty aside from Carter and himself. Hogan had deliberately delayed speaking with him till they would be alone.
"Hey Carter. At ease." Hogan quickly added as he saw the Carter try and start to get up. "How're you enjoying our resort. It's not much, but we're planning on adding the pool next summer." Stupid, Robby. Hogan berated himself. Of course he is going to say he's not enjoying it. Stupid!
"I can't say I'm enjoying it very much, sir." Carter sighed closing his eyes momentarily before summing the energy to move himself into a sitting position.
"Well, it takes sometime to get used to." Hogan sat down on the bench across the way from Carter's bunk, and eyed the kid from top to bottom. "So you were stationed with the 321st." He mentioned noticing the insignia. "That's part of the Eighth Air Force, right, in London?" Hogan hoped Carter would correct him, he was not disappointed. Carter looked up, and corrected him, without a second thought.
"Actually it's the Ninenth. And to be honest, Sir, I'm not really sure where our home base is, I wasn't with them all that long. All I know is I was on my way to Africa from England. I think the Army just wanted me as far away from them is possible."
"And why would that be, Carter?" Hogan leaned in, curious.
"Well, you see, Sir, I'm sorta a bad luck charm." Carter hung his head low.
"I see." Both Hogan and Carter were quiet for a moment before Hogan asked his next question.
"The 321st? That's with the XI Bomber Command, isn't it?"
"No, Sir. It's the IX. Gee, I thought everyone knew that….uh, Sir."
"The IX, eh? So, what is Major Campbell up to these days?"
"Major Campbell? I dunno a Major Campbell, there was Captain Campbell, and well I suppose they could be brothers, and he is still working in administration, well I mean he is a secretary of sorts if you know what I mean, but a Major Campbell-" Hogan interrupted Carter's confused babbling.
"Gotcha. So what kind of planes were you flying then? Seventeens? Twenty-fives?-"
"Oh boy! Mitchells! They're great!...Um...Sir." Carter's head lifted up and his eyes lit up. And immediately set into explaining the aircraft. Hogan listened both with interest and amusement.
"So Kinch tells me you're from North Dakota. I've been through there on my way to Colorado." Hogan studied Carter's face as he moved onto his next question. Carter on the other hand got a quizzical look on his face.
"Um, how…how did that work? They aren't anywhere near each other. I mean, granted I wasn't the best at geography, and I know they are both Midwest states, but gee, they aren't anywhere near each other. I mean for starters, North Dakota is well, north, and Colorado is-"
"Okay Carter, I get the picture." Hogan laughed.
"How long have you been in here, Colonel? I mean, it seems you are forgetting things….is that….is that…." Carter got really quiet, and then dropping his head, he spoke just above a whisper, "will that happen to me?" He folded his hands, playing absent-mindedly with his left thumb. The question caught Hogan off guard. He was suppose to be the one drilling him, not the other way around. Searching his mind a moment for an answer. He decided to go with the truth.
"Yes and no. To be perfectly honoust, I knew all the answers to those questions, Andrew." Hogan sighed. Carter looked up suddenly in surprise at the use of his first name. "You'll start to forget some things…and some things you won't. " Hogan shrugged. "But that's just the way time is. You don't forget the important things. And I doubt if the locations of the states will be the first thing to go." He laughed. Carter wasn't quite yet at ease.
"Will we ever get out of here….sir?" Carter tried to hide the fact that he was scared and felt alone. Blinking back the tears of the longest month of his life, he knew what the answer would be. However Hogan took longer than expected in answering.
"What do you think?"
"No. We will never get out."
"And what makes you say that?"
"I've heard that this is the toughest POW camp in all of Germany, Sir." Carter lifted his head, as if to emphasise his next point. "I have!" He looked back at the ground again, and continued to play with his thumb. "And at Basic Training, they told us to try and try and try and escape if captured. Well, just how many people actually, and I mean truly make it all the way out of Germany? I mean to England, or to Switzerland, or someplace safe?" Carter looked Hogan straight in the face. Stunned, Hogan wasn't sure how to respond.
"Well, I'm sure there are a lot more who make it back home than you think."
"Maybe. But I doubt it….uh, sir."
"Perhaps they aren't allowed to talk about who helped them escape. For the safety of the underground members."
"Hey! Maybe that's true! Do you think we could get underground mem…... oh." Carter's hope was suddenly dashed as he realized that there were no underground members coming to their rescue inside the prison camp.
"Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself. How long have you been flying?" Hogan was now starting to head towards the information he wanted.
"Oh, not that long. Actually, it was my first assignment with the 321st."
"Where were you before then?"
"Um….is that an order?"
"What? Oh no. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Hogan was taken aback.
"Thank you, Sir. It's….it's embarrassing."
"So you were shot down over Hamburg?"
"Yes, Sir." Carter got quiet again. As he thought back to the incident. He wasn't even suppose to be close to Hamburg. Instead he was on his way to Africa.
"When were you shot down?"
"Two weeks ago. They took me to a, um, processing type centre. And then to here."
"Is this your first time in a prison camp?" Hogan held his breath for the answer.
"Yeah. And I can't say I'd like to repeat the experience." Carter sighed. Hogan on the other hand just had his world turned sideways. Unsure of how to proceed after that, he was thankful as some of the men started milling in. A few of them, upon seeing their commander sitting next to Carter started to head back out, but after a wave from Hogan, they continued coming in.
"Well if you will excuse me, I, uh, have some things to attend to." With that Hogan walked into this office for some much needed pacing.