Cater stepped out into the chill spring night. He wrapped his arms more around himself and continued his trek to the laterine. He wasn't more than three metres away when a searchlight found him and he heard guards running. Throwing up his hands terrifyed he started screaming.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Um! Um! Nicht Schießen! Nicht Schießen!" Langenscheidt was the first guard to reach Carter, followed far behind by a huffing Schultz.
"Was machen Sie denn hier? Alle die Gefangene müssen in den Baracken sein. (What are you doing here? All the prisoners must be in their barrackses."" Langenscheidt spoke softly and kept his gun lowered, trying not to scare Carter more than he was. After all they were about the same age. Carter looked at him and was about to reply when Schultz finally finished huffing up to the two.
"I' mach''s, i' spre' bessa Englisch ols Sie, gell. (I'll take care of it, I speak better English then you, alright.)" Schultz turned towards Carter.
„Englisch vielleicht...Deutsch „nix (1) (English maybe...German no.)" Langenschdiedt rolled his eyes and snickered quietly.
„Carter, what are you doing out of bed? You should be sleeping, and dreaming of struuuuudel…." Schultz sighed as he thought of the way strudel tasted.
"I will, um Mr. Guard. But I need to use the latrine first."
"Please, Schultz. Everybody calls me Schultz. Even my mother. Although…I do not know why."
"Um…okay….Schultz." Carter walked towards the latrine. Although he did not see it, Bailey had used him as a distraction in order to sneak under the dog kennel, and into the tunnel to meet up with Olsen and Thompson.
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Carter stretched as he was coming out of the latrine. Now that the guards knew he was out there, instead of keeping their search lights directly focused on him, they apparently were passing directly over. As he started across the compound, he saw another figure moving quickly, using the shadow as a cover. Keeping a slow, but steady pace towards the barracks, Carter followed him with his eyes. The follow, obviously a prisoner, Carter assumed, based on the way he was moving, moved quickly, without detection towards the dogs. Carter watched in awe, as he opened the pin, stepped in, and lifted up one of the kennels. An escape route! They have an escape route! I can get outta here! Carter quickened his pace, moving towards the dog pin, keeping his eyes pealed for signs of trouble, he walked up to it, sure the dogs were going to start barking at him. Instead they started wagging their tags, and jumped on him the moment he opened the gate. Carter smiled happily. He hadn't been smothered in dog kisses since he had left home. Lifting up the same kennel, he crawled into the tunnel.
The first thing that hit him was the smell. It was a dank, musty, sweaty, and burnt candle smell; oddly mixed with something that smelled of sulphur. The next was how dark it was. Even though he had been walking in the dark, it took his eyes a moment to adjust, even then it was near impossible to see. The only light was coming from way down at the other end of the tunnel hallway. Carter blindly walked towards it. He felt immediately chilled from being underground.
"-couldn't find my scarf in the dark. I didn't miss anything did I?" A voice echoed down the tunnel.
"No, we were just reviewing, and making sure everyone knows their part." Another voice echoed. It sounded almost distorted. Carter continued towards the light, skidding a few times on some water that had dripped onto the tunnel floor.
"Do you need anymore shoe polish?"
"Nah, if I add anymore, no one will see me at night for a week."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Carter continued to follow the voices. He was so confused as to what was going on. When he finally reached the light, he turned right into the room. Looking around, there were two candles lit in small medal containers sitting next to a radio. A radio! There's a radio! Carter glanced around. There was no one there. Yet the candles were burning, a book was open, and there was still part of a piece of bread. Maybe if I hurry I can contact…..Carter realized there was no one to contact. No one could help him-
"Can I help you?" Carter spun around at the voice.
"Um…no, no…just uh…looking…looking, a…around." Carter managed to sputter.
"Alright. I taken you've talked to the Colonel then. You're that new guy right?"
"Uh, yeah I guess so."
"'Yeah, guess so' which?" The guy Carter was talking to laughed. Carter noticed he was wearing what looked like to corporal stripes.
"I mean, I guess I'm the new guy. And of course I've talked to Colonel Hogan." Carter laughed confused. Of course how could he not talk to him? He lived with him didn't he?
"That's good. Otherwise I'd have to shoot you now." The sergeant laughed warmly. Carter laughed politely. "First time in the tunnel then, eh?"
"Um, yeah…."
"Tell you what, I'm not suppose to leave my post. But seeing we are on radio silence with London anyways, I suppose I can give you a brief tour." The man got up from the chair at the radio where he had gone and sat down, and shook Carter's hand. "I'm Sewell Binnie. I know, terrible name. Call me Sparky, everyone does."
"Um okay….Sparky…I'm Andrew Carter." Sparky fumbled with one of the candles, picking it up and started to lead Carter out of the tunnel.
"So I'm surprised to see you down here. Well, I mean, I guess not really, since the Colonel usually takes everyone around, or Kinch does. Say, hey, where is ol' Kinch-o? He does know you are down here doesn't he?"
"Um, well, actually…."
"Wanted to see it before he could show it to ya, eh? Yeah I understand. It's a beaut' ain't it? A real beaut' of a tunnel, ain't she?" Sparky, looked up and down the darkness in satisfaction. Carter had absolutely no idea what he was looking at, since he couldn't see at thing.
"You…you won't tell Kinch then?"
"Ah, naaaah. Though….it woooould help if my memory had incentive…"
"I lost my comic books when I got captured."
"You had comics with you?"
"Well yeah, I mean there was room, and I always figured if I did get captured, which as you can see I did, I mean you're standing right next to me, and we are in a POW camp, that well, then in that case, which is this case it would be nice to have them ya know, since I had heard that-"
"Kid, never mind, those comics ain't the only things ya lost." Sparky shook his head amused. "Well, follow me." He lead Carter to the right back in the same hallway Carter had come in, and rounded a corner to the left, they zigzagged and walked through what appeared to Carter to be absolute darkness. He could see every once in a while what looked to be over sections of tunnel leading off to the sides, but it was hard to tell where exactly they lead. "Here kid, this is the heart of our tunnel." Sparky spread his arms out as to show how utterly amazing it was. All Carter saw was some more darkness.
"It's uh, great."
"Ain't it? And to think! Only a year ago this was all dirt. Amazing what people can do when they put their minds to it, and the Colonel is in charge."
"Uh…yeah. Say, where exactly are we standing?"
"Standing? Why boy, we are in the counterfeiting room! We have to pay for the operation somehow! And over here," he lead Carter to the next room, "is where we make all the pistols! Although, I wouldn't shoot any of them, we are still sorting out which are real and which are the cigarette lighters. Long story there."
"Cigarette lighters?"
"Yeah, kid. I was captured afterwards, but apparently they had been making pistol-shaped cigarette lighters for a while. They are identical to a Luger, 'cept well, one shoots and one doesn't. Be one hell of a way to get a smoke though!"
"Yeah…."
"Well I need to get back to the radio, though, if you walk back with me, I'll show you the changing room. Did the Colonel talk to you yet about your strengths?"
"My strengths?"
"Yeah, ya know, which is your best ya know, strength. Whatcha good at."
"Oh. Chemistry I guess. Well you see, I-"
"Chemistry?"
"Yeah well, you see-"
"Can you make bombs?"
"Can I? Can I? I once blew up my school!"
"Kid, come with me! Quickly!" Sparky grabbed Carter's arm, dragging him off into the darkness. Carter was so turned around that he could have been in China and not have known it.
"Look here. This is our little lab, it isn't much."
"This is a lab? It's half a table."
"Well, court-martial me. We haven't had an explosives expert before."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm not an explosives expert, though I am pretty good with chemicals, I mean, I've been studying and I would really like to-"
"Shut up for a moment, kid. Look, can you make us a couple bombs, in order to blow up a convey?"
"Blow up a convey? What?"
"Right now? Can you?"
"I….I su-suppose….? Why do you want to blow up a convey? Whose convey?"
"What exactly did the Colonel say to you about our operation?"
"Operation?"
"Yes."
"Not much?" Carter wasn't sure what to say. Sparky immediately cursed and smacked the table.
"How did you get down here?"
"I followed a guy, I thought he was escaping." Carter shrugged. He had no idea what was going on. Sparky on the other hand started ranting a soliloquy that Carter was unable to follow. Sparky suddenly stopped, spun around and got really close to Carter, his face was centimetres away from Carters. He looked him dead on.
"Okay, Carter. You do this for me, and I'll do something for you. You see these chemicals we have here? It's not much. And we don't have much materials. I want you to make three bombs. Three." He held up his fingers for emphasis. "Sufficient enough to take out a convey. And I want you to do it now. You do this for me, and I will save your neck from the Colonel when he finds out you were down here."
"Why do I need to do it right now?"
"Because four men are out here now on a suicide mission if what they have isn't sufficient. And I'm sure it isn't." Sparky stopped walking around like a madman and starred at the ground utterly still. Carter wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change of events.
"How long do I have?"
"Five minutes."
"FIVE MINUTES?"
"The sooner we stop talking and the sooner you make those bombs the better off we'll be."
"Um, uh, okay, alright. These are the chemicals you have?"
"Yes."
"Alright, so um, then, uh, get me a knife, some nitroglycerine, the medic should have some, and some table salt. And then pray."
Carter wiped his forehead with the back of his left hand. Five minutes had come and went, and he was still no closer to solving the issue of making a bomb. Slumping in a nearby chair, he felt discouraged. Chemistry was his passion! He should be able to make something of the materials he had. The only problem is he didn't have many materials, but he had to keep trying.
"Any luck?" Sparky asked peeking in.
"No. Well, I suppose this cooould work. It would be great to test it, but I need some more tools." Carter sighed in frustration. Sparky groaned.
"Will what you have work?"
"Maybe?"
"Well then package it up. You are going after the team."
"Wait, what? I've never been outside the wire, not since I was captured! And that wasn't a pleasant experience!"
"Which is why you are going with Tommy here." Sparky motioned a RAF junior technician. "Now I am breaking just about every rule in the book, but I want you to go, and go now!" Sparky practically shoved Carter towards Tommy. Carter barely had time to grab the supplies before being thrown outside the tunnel before he knew it.
Carter could tell that part of the tunnel was brand new, as it felt more unstable than any other part, and had more of the fresh dirt smell, from which a few pieces hit him in the head as he ascended a temporary hanging rope. Climbing out, he ended up in a stump where he was forced to take the top off of, much like taking the top off a biscuit tin. He would need to ask about it later. Tommy who was ahead of him, motioned for him to follow, and Carter did just that, still trying to sort out the chain of events. All I wanted to do was go to the latrine. And now I'm on some kind of mission? Who exactly are these people?
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Kinch starred at the ceiling. It has been about 15 minutes since Carter left to go outside, and he hadn't returned. Kinch was being to wonder if the boy hadn't tried to escape. No, if he did, we would have heard the alarm go off. Unless he managed to make it out? No…maybe he fell in the latrine? Naah. Maybe he went to talk to Klink? No… that doesn't seem to work either. Rolling over onto this side, his mind couldn't help but race. Five more minutes and I'll send a sleep-walking Newkirk to go and find him.
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Olsen move steadily and silently through the woods with Thompson and Bailey, and Williams behind him. He was feeling the mussels in his back starting to complain, as he was still moving hunched over. Pausing for a moment he crutched down and the other three men knelt down beside him. Using his hands he motioned to a patch of open ground about 50 metres away. Nodding in understanding they all waited as Olsen made a dash for it. Holding their breath they waited. A moment later a hand appeared singling them over, the patch was clear. Hurrying over, the two joined him. Olsen glanced around for a moment, and again in silence pointed a small road. Following it, the three of them found the platform where they convey would meet up with the train.
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Carter had never ran so fast in his life. Usually he enjoyed running, it made him feel free, alive, and as if he were flying. However this time he was running terrified, confused, and as silently as possible. Sparky still hadn't explained to him exactly why they needed three explosives, nor had he said where Tommy was leading him, all Carter knew is he had to get there as fast as possible. Praying that no one would see him as he ran through the woods, Carter continued to follow Tommy.
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Kinch had had enough. He needed to know where Carter was. Climbing off his bunk he walked over to Newkirk, who was back on his bottom bunk, and knelt down. Kinch shook his shoulder.
"Peter….Peter…" Kinch whispered.
"Go away, Kinch, I'm with a blond…"
"No time for that now, I want you to go and find Carter."
"Why, 'e can't find 'is way 'ome?" Newkirk opened one eye.
"I dunno. But it's been 20 minutes and he hasn't come back." Kinch whispered near Newkirk's ear.
"Blimey." Newkirk sighed. "I feel like a mother 'en." He sat up and pulled on his boots. Walking towards the door, he looked back at Kinch. "Do me a favour, Kinch, buy the blond a drink till I get back?" Kinch laughed quietly before answering.
"Sure thing, Newkirk."
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Hogan was bored. He couldn't imagine actually spending a whole 30 or 60 days in the cooler. It was cold, the bunk was hard, and LeBeau's and Schultz's snorings were keeping him awake. Hogan sighed. At least the snoring was better than the hour long rendition of "Le Prisonnier d'Hollande (2)". Not only horrible in Hogan's opinion since LeBeau was singing it again and again, but horrible since he expected him to join in. Something Hogan wasn't exactly keen on, since one, he didn't know the words (just repeat what I say, Colonel), and two, LeBeau instead on correcting his pronunciation ("'les lilas sont fleuris'" mon Colonel.).
Hogan stood up and walked over to the bars peering out towards the compound, pulling himself up, he looked outside. It was dark save for the searchlights. Suddenly he caught a figure walking across the compound. It appeared to be Newkirk. He was sleep walking.
Hogan laughed silently. Either Newkirk had actually picked up the habit, or… something was terribly wrong. The second thought washed threw him like cold water. He wanted to keep watching but his arms gave way and he dropped back down on the ground. Looking at the bars again, he started to fiddle with them, but groaned with frustration, as without the proper tools, he couldn't make them go up and down like the fence. However, he was determined to try.
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Olsen, Thompson, Williams, and Bailey watched the platform. It was already crawling with a few guards. They would need to be stealthy in order to pull off their mission. Olsen signalled silently to the two others, telling them with specific hand movements what to do. Both nodded in agreement, and the three split up, heading for different sections of the track. Olsen looked down at the pathetic excuse for an explosive in his hand. This had better work, because he didn't even want to think of the alternative.
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Carter was nearly out of breath. Granted he was strong, young, and fit, but he was also undernourished having been in a Dulag, and now at a Stalag Luft. Tommy suddenly stopped and knelt down and Carter ran directly into him, nearly falling over Tommy's head and back. Tommy, turned around and gave Carter the "shh" single with his lips and finger. Carter nodded and knelt down to rub his shin. Tommy pointed over towards a road leading down a small hill. Singling, he started to walk, absolutely silently, while hunched over. Carter attempted to mimic, yet found every twig in Germany to accidentally step on. Spinning around, Tommy gave him a look of utter annoyance, before continuing his deer-like movement. Carter moved slower to avoid stepping on twigs.
The two of them finally reach a point where they could see movement in the foreground. Knelling down, Tommy pointed to the explosives they had in the bag, and then to specific places on the track. Carter nodded. He looked around, however he saw no signs of the other team, just a few Germans boredly patrolling. Yet this did not seem to bother Tommy in the least bit. He had moved away and was already gauging his move to attach an explosive on the underside of the platform.
Carter swallowed. He felt utterly exposed in his uniform. He made a dash for the rails and immediately buried himself behind the back part of the platform that was under the overhang, and next to the rails. Yanking the explosive out of the bag he set it under the rails. The moment the train put its weight on it. BOOM! Carter only wished he had a timer to install with it. Moving further down, he set up the second explosion, in the same similar fashion as the first, crossing his figures that he could pull it off.
Carter buried himself back underneath the overhang by the platform, and eyed up and down for where Tommy had gone. He didn't see him anywhere. Panic began to build in Carter, his mind racing as to what to do. His breathing became quicker, and quicker, and quicker, finally Carter was sure he was going to hyperventilate and decided to slowly move back towards the woods. He started to crawl out from under the platform when he heard the terrifying and steady, click-click…click-click….click-click….click-click of hobnails (3) hitting the cement. Carter immediately froze and without realizing it, held his breath. The sound of the hobnails came closer, and closer, and when Carter didn't think he could take the suspense much more, the sound halted, scraped the ground, and started heading the other way. Letting out the breath, Carter's heart started up again. He looked around him, and then dashed back towards the woods.
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Olsen met up with Bailey Williams ,and Thompson back in the woods. Each man used silent singles to convey specific meanings. Olsen nodded understanding. Suddenly there was a slight rustle in the leaves. Olsen peered into the darkness, heart pounding in his chest. He layed down on the ground. A moment later a boot stepped directly on his hand. Olsen bit his lip to keep from crying out. The boot's owner looked down to see what he stepped on.
"Olsen?"
Rose?"
"Olsen!" Tommy whispered loudly while he bended down and helped Olsen back up.
"Rosey, what are you doing here? Looking or Döner meat (4)?"
"Don't call me 'Rosey', it's Tommy. And no…I'm not looking for "Döner meat", I came to help you guys, I brought-" Tommy stopped and looked around. There was no sign of Carter anywhere.
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(1 ) This joke needs some explaining. Because, it's too funny to go unnoticed In EKvH, Schultz is from Bayern, and speaks, well, Bayrisch. Big surprise. To a non-Bayrisch speaker, it sounds funny (Sorry!), and it is considered "non-standard" German. ('schuldigung ob man von Bayern ist! Aber…es stimmt...tja...ok, ik wohn in SH, also...jaja...lol) and Schultz always says his, „ich seh' nix" (I see nothing), in his Bayrisch accent. So when Langenscheidt says "Deutsch"nix""(German not), he is making fun of that particular line. Everyone with me still? Good.
(2 ) A popular French song from during the French-Dutch war, about French Prisoners in Holland
(3 ) For those of you who don't know, hobnails are what were on the bottom of the Wehrmarkt boots in order to help keep traction. They were basically like tiny nails that had a tendency to always fall out, but made the distinct clicking notice when the walker made contact with a hard surface.
(4 ) EKvH running gag