Wolfgang Hochstetter slammed his fist down on his desk wish such force it caused the papers sitting there to go flying.
"WO IST ER? /WHERE IS HE?)" Hochstetter screamed at his assistant. His assistant however remained silent, terrified of the man in front of him. "WARUM HAST DU IHN NICHT GEFUNDEN? /WHY HAVE YOU NOT FOUND HIM?)"
„Iiiiich, iiiiich- (IIIII, IIIII-)"
„HALT DIE KLAPPE! Trozdem, finden wir ihn...:(SHUT-UP! We'll find him yet…)" Hochstetter picked up a paperweight and through it acrossed the room, where it put a small hole in the wall.
"Heeerr Mmmmajor…."
"WAS? (WHAT?)"
"Herr Major, vielleicht ist er mit dem Untergrund? (Maybe he is with the Underground?)" The assistant timidly suggested.
„Vielleicht, Leutnant. Aber WIE IST ER GEFLOGEN? (Perhaps, Lieutenant. However. HOW DID HE ESCAPE?)" Hochstetter slammed his fist down again, this time causing the man across from him to wince at the sound. "AAH!" Hochstetter bellowed, shoving the rest of the papers onto the ground. The assistant sighed, shifting the weight on his feet, as he had been standing their listening to his CO complain and rant for the last two hours. "Koch-" Hochstetter started by was interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. Koch started to reach for it but was slapped by Hochstetter's hand before he himself picked up the phone.
"Hochstetter." He answered.
"Major Hochstetter? Hier is' Rudolf Bähr. (This is Rudolf Bähr.)"
„Ach, Bähr. Es freut misch, disch zuhören. "
„Wolfi, ähm, darf ik dir wat beden? (Wolfi, um, do you mind if I ask you a favour?)"
„Vielleicht. Was ist? (Depends. What is it?)"
"Beed. Ik witt ‚nau w'e beschäftigt du bist, aver, ik bruke diene Hülp. All' miene Gefangene sind Gistern geflogen- (Please. I know how busy you are, but, I need your help. Alle of my the prisoners escaped yesterday-)„
„WAS? (WHAT?)"
„Stimmt. Un'...ik dakte...Villicht weil du so plietsch un'- (Correct. And...i thought...maybe because you are so clever and-)„
„Gefangene? Wo bist du genau? (Prisoners? Where exactly are you?)"
"Ik bün Kommandant vun Stalag Luft 13- (I am he Kommandant of Stalag Luft 13-)"
"Dreizehn? (Thirteen?)"
"Dat stimmt… (Correct...)"
"Isch komme….es gibt da ne Untergrundgruppe...und isch selbst hab nen Gefangener verloren. (I'm coming... there is an underground group there, and I myself have lost a prisoner.)"
„Nee... (No...)"
„Doch. Isch glaub, dass vielleicht mein Gefangener da ist... isch bin Morgen da. Auf wiederhören! (Yes. I believe, that perhaps my prisoner may be there, I'll be there tomorrow. Goodbye!)"
„Danke. Auf Wiederhören. (Thank you. Goodbye.)"
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Hauptmann Hauptmann, as the escaping American was continuing to be called waited nervously by the fountain. He pretended to read his newspaper in front of him, but all the while was looking everywhere but. His heart was beating so fast that he swore it was going to jump right out of his body. Taking each hand in turn and wiping the sweat off and onto his trousers, he looked around again.
The street was busy being early to mid morning on a weekday. There were shoppers out, and business workers tending to their stores. The Hauptmann looked around hoping to spot his next contact. Glancing down at his watch, he still had five minutes before they were to contact him.
Turning back to his newspaper, he began to read. However nothing inside held his interest as much as the outside world. Hauptmann looked around again, trying to calm his breathing and the look of fright on his face. It would do no good if he looked like a deserter. To his right, he saw a man approaching; the man was dressed in a black suit and hat, and approached the fountain next to where Hauptmann was standing. The man stopped about 3 metres from him and lit a cigarette. He then turned to Hauptmann.
"Entschuldigung, aber wenn Sie fertig mit der Zeitung sind, darf ich sie bitte lesen? (Excuse me, but when you are finished with the newspaper, may I please read it?)"
„Gerne. (Of course.)" Hauptmann replied, taking a few steps to hand the paper over. He looked at his watch, his contact should be here anytime.
"Ach." The man started. "Schade, keine Weltmeisterschaft dieses Jahr (1). Wie scheißig. (A pity, no World Cup this year. How terrible.)" He shook his head. „Spielen Sie gerne Füßball? (Do you like to play football?)" The man asked Hauptmann.
"Hm? Oh. Ja, manchmals. (Yeah, sometimes.)" Hauptmann shrugged. The man rolled his eyes.
"Wer spielt besser, Manchester United, oder Bayern? (Who plays better, Manchester United or Bayern?)" Hauptman glanced back at the man as his eyes widened, that was the code!
"Manchester United, auf jeden Fall. (Manchester United, of course.)" Hauptmann quickly replied.
„Hm. England ist schön, oder? (England is nice, isn't it?)"
"Ja, aber nicht so schön wie die USA. (Yes, but not as nice as the United States.)" The man nodded slightly at Hauptmann and then folded up the paper. Tilting his head slightly, he indicated that he should follow him. He started walking back the way he came, and Hauptmann counted to 30, as he was instructed and then started following him, as best he could, without any noticing.
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Newkirk watched amused from his hiding place in the barn near the camp as the guards searched the woods. Waving the rest of the men who were hiding with him, the group watched as the guards tromped and walked directly by the farm. Newkirk silently laughed.
"I thought 'at we'd be the first ones found. Then I remembered 'o we are dealing with."
"Well, we still might be, they haven't started searching here yet." One of the three men answered.
"Come-on mate. They're walkin' right passed us. I don't think they're even gonna investigate."
"Maybe. But we should still get under the hay just to be sure."
"Oh alright. In a minute though." Newkirk turned to the two others hiding up there with us. "Any takers?"
"I think you're nuts, Newkirk. I'm not gonna waste my money on a bet like that." One of the other men answered.
"Come-on make. I'm givin' 2:1 odds 'ere!"
"Alright, Newkirk." The man behind Newkirk crawled forward. "I'll take it. Five Allied Currency Notes (2) that we're found by tomorrow. Schultz or no Schultz."
"Deal." Newkirk wrote it down on his pad.
"Well, if Mathew's is in….I make the same bet, with French Invasion Currency of course, but say they will find us today." A second man joined in.
"Thank you, Thompson. You, Captain America (3)?" Newkirk turned to the last man.
"No thanks, Newkirk. I don't like betting on my life."
"I can respect that. Maybe not understand, but respect it." Newkirk glanced again outside their little hideaway in the barn. "It's your money. I still say 'ey won't find us 'fore the guv wants 'em too. So three days."
"Why three, Newkirk?" Mathew's asked.
"Today is one. The Colonel should be back sometime today. Tomorrow, when we aren't yet found, the guv'ner will talk 'em into bringin' Schultz back to find us, and day three, Schultz will be 'ere, the Colonel will 'elp 'im out, and poof, we're back in business."
"Let's hope your right. I would be willing to lose five bucks over that…." Mathew sighed.
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Colonel Hogan sat in the cooler, trying to sort out why his men would suddenly escape all at once, with no previous notice. There is probably a note in the tunnel. He sighed. I wonder if I can get out and get it though? Hogan played with the stones along the wall, to no avail. If his men had finished the tunnel to the cooler, it may not be that particular cell. Hogan huffed in aggravation. Suddenly there was a slight knock coming from somewhere. Standing up, Hogan crossed over, searching for the sound. There it is again, where is that coming from? Hogan tapped the wall with his knuckles. And again, the same signal came, the rhythm matches the code to come up from the tunnels. Hogan was curious. The knock came again. This time Hogan answered with the tunnel code. A second later scrapping was heard, and a block from the side moved.
"Colonel? Colonel Hogan?" A voice whispered. Hogan walked around and saw a head sticking out of the wall.
"Doe! What are you doing here, I thought all the men had escaped." Hogan whispered and bend down so that he was closing to be level with the head in the wall.
"We have Sir. A few of us volunteered to stay behind in the tunnels to monitor things. Once the others start being found, we will go out and be recaptured. Till then, a handful of us are living in the tunnel, Sir." Doe explained. Hogan nodded.
"Good thinking."
"Sir, I will come back later tonight to fill you in on everything. I don't want to risk it during the day, Sir. But…" Doe disappeared and returned with a sandwich. "Something to tide you over, Colonel."
"Thank you, Doe. I will see you after roll call….assuming that they even bother to count me." Hogan laughed. Doe smiled as he disappeared back into the tunnel, sealing the all behind him. Hogan crawled a step forward examining the wall, smiling. There were absolutely no traces of a hidden panel there at all. My men do good work.
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Hauptmann nonchalantly followed the man 10 metres in front of him. They twisted and turned through the city till he suddenly stopped in front of a building containing several flats. Glancing over his shoulder the man nodded for Hauptmann to enter the building. The two quickly and quietly ascended the stairs in front of them, stopping two floors above. The man quickly ushered Hauptmann in.
"Dan-"
"Shh!" The man hushed. And waved Hauptmann to follow him through the hallway to the back room. Inside was dark, and the contact quickly handed clothes over for Hauptmann to change. Understanding, Hauptmann started taking off the uniform and putting on the civilian clothes. The contact then handed him several pieces of paper, looking at them he saw that they were identity papers, however where the photo should be, there was nothing.
"Mein Foto… (My photo…)" Hauptmann whispered. The contact nodded, and pulled out a camera. Hauptmann quickly positioned himself as the contact pulled out a white sheet. Snapping the photo, he disappeared with the camera, living Hauptmann alone in the room. Too nervous to do anything, he sat there still for 10 minutes, until the contact returned.
The contact entered the room again, and pulled the curtains open enough to see, and glanced out on the street.
"Sie sprechen Deutsch? (You speak German?)" He asked.
"Ja…ein bisschen. (Yes... a little.)" Hauptmann answered.
"Gut. Dann reden wir auf Deutsch. Zu gefährlich auf Englisch. (Good. Then we'll speak in German. Too dangerous in English.)" The contact let the corner of the drape drop back down as he turned. "Sie heißen niemals Hauptmann. Sondern sind Sie Hans Wagner. (You will no longer be called Hauptmann. But rather, you are Hans Wagner.)"
"Hans Wagner?"
"Stimmt. Sie waren verletzt in Frankreich, und damit können Sie nicht mehr kämpfen. (Correct. YOu were injured in France, and now can no longer fight.)"
„Verstehe ich. (I understand.)" Wagner answered.
"Gut. (Good.)" The contact looked around. „In eine Stunde soll das Foto gut sein, und dann fahren wir ab. Aber bis dann, essen wir. (In an hour, the photo should be done, and then we can leave. However, until then, we'll eat.)" He lead Wagner out and turned right into the kitchen.
"Darf ich fragen, wohin wir fahren? (May I ask, where we are going?)" Wagner asked as the contacted handed him some cheese.
"Nein. Zu gefährlich. Aber wir fahren nach Süden. Da treffen Sie jemand, der Sie zu dem nächsten Kontakt bringen wird. (No. Too dangerous. However we are going south. There you will meet someone who will take you to your next contact.)"
„Danke." Wagner set the cheese on the small table, the contact handed him some bread.
"Darf ich Ihnen fragen, wieso Sie nach England fahren wollen? Von hier macht's keinen Sinn... ist's leichter nach der Schweiz zufahren, weil wir schon nach Süden fahren. (May I ask, why is it that you want to go to England? From here it makes no sense… it's easier to go to Switzerland, because we are already travelling south.)" The contacted asked as he grabbed some meat. Wagner nodded.
„Warum müssen wir nach Süden? Sie haben Recht... das macht keinen Sinn. (Why do we need to go South? You're right… that doesn't make any sense.)" Hauptmann asked confused. The contact hesitated before answering.
"Weil ich keine kenne, die….die Sie nach England schicken kann. Ich hab' von nur einen gehört, der vielleicht könnte... und er ist im Süden. (Because I don't know anyone, who... who can send you to England. I've heard of one person who might be able to… and he is in the South.)"
"Bitte…ich muss nach England. (Please... I need to get to England.)"
"Tja…okay. Wir fahren in einer Stunde ab. (Alright... We'll leave in an hour.)"
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Wagner looked at his finished identity papers, as both him and his contacted waited for the train. The looked completely authentic. Glancing at this ticket, he saw that they were taking the train to Frankfurt am Main. Wagner tried to think back to his German geography that he had taken during his brief time at Command School (4). He shrugged. He remembered his contact said that they were travelling south, which was the opposite direction he wanted to go, but left it, hoping his contact knew what he was doing. I just wish I remembered where Frankfurt was. I guess it's a good thing they didn't go ahead and make me an officer. I probably would forget other important things too. They're right about me not being officer material. Wagner shook his head sadly.
Wagner's contacted tugged slightly on his sleeve as the train approached. The two men climbed silently on with the other passengers, and looked for a place to sit. Finding one, the two men did their best to blend into the crowd. Wagner looked at his ticket again. It would be some hours before the train stopped in Frankfurt, and he would be safe in a crowd again.
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Bähr was displeased as the guards come back into the compound empty handed. Burkhalter was amazed that they were unable to find a single man. As the two men talked with the guards in charged, including Bähr's own son, Kommandant Bähr became more nervous, and Burkhalter more frustrated.
"Niemand! Sie haben niemand gefunden! Wie ist das möglich? (No-one! You found no-one! How is that possible!)"
„Es tut mir Leid, Herr General,- (I'm sorry, General-)"
„Stimmt, dass es Ihnen Leid tut! Sie finden die Männer, oder tut Stalingrad Ihnen Leid! (5) (Correct that you are sorry! You will find the men, or Stalingrad will make you sorry!)" The guards quickly apologized again, and ran back out into the woods. Burkhalter broke a cigar in half in his hands.
"Bähr. Finden Sie die Männer. Oder ich rufe Klink an...heute. Und ich will das NICHT machen. Verstehen Sie? Finden Sie die Männer…und vielleicht werde ich Sie nicht schießen…. (Bähr. Find the men. Or I will ring Klink…today. Und I do NOT want to do that. Understand? Find the men…and maybe I will not shoot you…)"
„Danke Herr General. Sofort Herr General. (Thank you General! Right away, General!)" Bähr saluted the general and ran off. If there was one thing the made did not like, that was having someone order him around like a Gefreiter. He should be a General, and giving orders to others. And if it was the last thing he did, he would make sure everyman in that camp paid for the humiliation they were causing him.
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(1) The Football World Cup was cancelled in 1942 because of the war, and again in 1946 because of the destruction of WWII.
(2) The Allied Governments had Military Issued Currency during WWII. They had as well Invasion Currency that was sent with the men as they went overseas, such as French, Germany, and Italian Currencies, in the hope that they would soon take over the main Currency. (For example, men who jumped into France, had the French currency) This is what later happened. (Special thanks to Jinzle who helped me with this information.)
(3) I don't own the name "Captain America", I am simply borrowing it for the joke. (since as it turns out this is the name of a comic strip in the US….who knew?)
(4 ) This will be explained later.
(5) I want to explain this a little bit better, since my translation probably doesn't make any sense. In German word "tun" or in this case "tut" means "do" or "does", and "Leid" is "pain". So to say you're sorry, you say, "Es tut mir leid." (It does me pain). So the literal translation of the conversation is: „Es tut mir Leid, Herr General,-„ (It does me pain, General). With Burkhalter's reply of: „Stimmt, dass es Ihnen Leid tut! Sie finden die Männer, oder tut Stalingrad Ihnen Leid! (Correct, that it [does] you pain (does)! You [will] find the men, or [will] (do) Stalingrad [do] you pain!)