The Christmas Rose - 2
Christmas Day, 1943
The next day was fair and relatively warm, yet again. The men who had been out overnight retired thankfully to their beds after morning roll call, and the day shift drifted out in stages to complete their missions.
In light of the lax security the night crew had (not) encountered, even Kinch was going out with Hogan this morning. Hogan knew that he'd be eager to stretch his legs outside the wire. Hogan always took the time to make all of his men aware of how each of them was crucial to their mission, but he knew that Kinch chafed under having to stay inside the camp when so often his comrades were out, facing danger. On an intellectual level, everyone was aware that one capture could end with all of them being executed, but that was hard to remember when so often you were the one left waiting for the others' safe return.
Hogan was glad this opportunity had come up, for both Kinch and for himself. They were on their way to a deserted farmhouse to meet with a known member of the Underground, who was bringing along a new volunteer. Hogan valued Kinch's extraordinary ability to read people and assess their character quickly, he wanted to get Kinch's opinion on this person.
Along with the new person, the Underground contact would likely have new intelligence, and also some much-needed supplies for he and Kinch to bring back to the camp. Later tonight would be the bigger acts of mischief: there was a nearby bridge whose hours were numbered, a local munitions dump that would be partially looted, then destroyed, and if everything went according to plan with London, a factory in Düsseldorf would cease operations - permanently.
There had been discussions over whether so many operations in one night might bring a lot of grumpy Gestapo hot-foot into the area to investigate, but the final decision was to grab opportunities whenever they presented themselves, in the hope that every successful operation hastened the end of the war.
So Hogan and Kinch walked through the forest, toward the farmhouse, relishing the beautiful day, the smell of the pines, the whisper of the breeze, and the dappled sunlight as it created intricate patterns on the bed of needles and earth, knowing that this may be the last outing they ever took under free will.
The meeting with the Underground went smoothly, in the dusky, dusty farmhouse kitchen, long since swept bare of anything useful. Information was exchanged, and Hogan and Kinch received backpacks of ammunition, tools, spare radio parts, and other materials.
As the meeting was about to break up, the senior Underground agent brought out a burlap sack.
"We took up a collection, all of us. We wanted to give you something for Weihnachten."
Hogan looked into the bag and found a large collection of foodstuffs: hunks of cheese, assorted sausages, and a good supply of potatoes. The bag felt to be around 20 pounds.
Hogan was stunned.
"How on earth did you get so much food? How can you possibly spare us this much? Surely you must be going hungry yourselves to give this much away! We cannot possibly take this from you!"
The Underground agents shook their heads and the new one spoke, "We owe you more than we can possibly give! It is you who give us hope of a future, something to live for. Please, take it, for your men, for all that you do."
"Besides," chimed in the other man, "we have freedom to forage, bargain, and steal. You are confined to the generosity of the Reich." Here he stopped and spat. "We all gave, willingly, joyfully."
Hogan and Kinch exchanged a look and then turned back to their benefactors. Hogan opened his mouth, but for once, nothing came out.
"We thank you, most kindly," Kinch said, while Hogan recovered his wits, "trust me, your gifts will not be wasted!"
The meeting over, the two Underground agents slipped out the front door, while Hogan and Kinch watched them safely away from inside the house.
After waiting about 20 minutes, and hearing no uproar, Hogan and Kinch then went out the kitchen door, and around the south side of the farmhouse. Hogan waited by the house with the heavy sack of food while Kinch slipped briefly into the forest for a quick scout of their route back to camp.
While he waited Hogan gazed idly at the huge, climbing rose bush that dominated the south wall of the house. It reminded him of the one at his parents' house, planted by his father for his mother on their first wedding anniversary. It was now large, after so many years, but still couldn't challenge this grandfather of a tree. The one back at home provided armfuls of deep, red, heavily scented roses all though the summer months. Hogan wondered what color the blossoms of this plant were.
Because of the unseasonable warmth, the bush was still green and leafy, although by spring it would be mostly bare, the leaves nipped by frost and blown off by the cold winds.
Thinking these thoughts made Hogan feel a bit melancholy and homesick. He wondered who had planted this tree, and where were they now? The tree was big enough that it could withstand the winter alone, but would do better with care.
Suddenly, a gleam of brightness from within the bush caught Hogan's eye. He moved closer to the bush, then reached carefully in, avoiding thorny branches to seek out what had attracted his attention.
As he parted more of the leaves, it came fully into view, a white rosebud. It was very small, less than a quarter the size the bush surely produced at the height of summer. It nodded to Hogan from the end of a spindly stem, a dwarfed offspring due to cold, but perfectly formed and pure white.
Before Hogan really understood his reasoning, he had his knife out and carefully cut the bud, along with its long stem. It was silly, he thought to himself, but he couldn't bear to think of this tiny miracle blooming and fading with no witness to see and appreciate its improbable existence.
"All clear, Colonel," came Kinch's voice, right by his ear. Hogan nearly jumped, and felt his face heat guiltily as he tucked the bud carefully into his jacket, under Kinch's curious gaze.
"Thanks, Kinch. Let's get back to camp, shall we?"
Kinch nodded, making no remark about Hogan's sudden interest in botany. Hogan once again thanked Kinch silently for his uncanny ability to know when to ask, and when not to ask questions.
They took turns carrying the heavy burlap sack, Hogan always careful not to crush the precious cargo he carried within his jacket. All the way home, Klink's carol from the night before seemed to echo in his mind.
They reached the stump, climbing down the ladder and carefully handing off the valuable bag of food. Hogan instructed Carter to sort and weigh the contents, and divide them equally amongst the barracks, keeping out a few of the sausages for LeBeau to make into a hearty dish in case someone became ill and needed extra nourishment. They knew from the previous winter that sausages could keep very well in the chilly tunnels.
Hogan then shrugged off his backpack, handing it to Kinch with instructions to sort all the supplies and store them away.
"Where's Klink?" he asked Newkirk and LeBeau when that was settled. They were on duty to monitor the Commandant, in case he took it into his head to do anything of interest while Hogan was gone.
"The crazy Kraut's in 'is office!" replied Newkirk, "seems 'e's such a sad sack 'e got nothin' better to do on Christmas than more paperwork! Blimey! I think I'd kill meself if I were that 'ard up!"
Hogan smiled, "Well, we don't all of us have the warm-hearted Newkirk clan to fill up our holiday time! If he's in his office I'm going to slip through the tunnel to his quarters."
"What for, Colonel?" asked LeBeau, "Did the Underground give you information on something to look for?"
"No, let's just say, I have a Christmas surprise for him," Hogan replied with a cunning smile.
"Ohhhhh," Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau all chimed, clearly thinking Hogan intended something to the Commandant's detriment and embarrassment.
Kinch remained silent, gazing at Hogan intently...almost knowingly. Hogan quickly turned away and headed down the tunnel to Klink's quarters. When he had begun his seduction of Klink, he figured it would only be a matter of time before Kinch would somehow figure it out. He was not only the most perceptive of the core group, but also worked the closest with Hogan, and could make easy note of Hogan's comings and goings.
If Kinch ever decided to confront Hogan about it, that would certainly be an uncomfortable talk, but he was sure Kinch could be trusted not to spread the news any further.
Once inside Klink's quarters, he rooted quickly through the kitchen to find a small vase for the rosebud. Once he had located one, put the bud in water, he carefully set the vase on the bedside table.
Hogan crept back into the tunnel, smiling to himself. Klink would be stunned, but know it had to be from him. He would privately scold him, demand to know where the secret tunnel into his quarters was (Hogan always denied its existence, and Klink never searched for it), and threaten Hogan with time in the cooler if he was ever caught where he shouldn't be. And all the while his blue eyes would be sparkling in delight over Hogan's gift.
All in all, it wasn't shaping up to be all that bad of a Christmas, all things considered.
The End
A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts. I just want to add a quick personal note. My readers will notice that I haven't been around much. I've had some challenges, which have significantly cut down on my ability to write. As sort of a culmination of everything, I recently got some very serious health news. I'm awaiting more information from my doctor before actually panicking. Anyway, I only mention this because I have to confess that my writing time may remain limited for the foreseeable future. And, please, take the time to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you. Because, even without wartime circumstances (like Hogan's Heroes) you never know what tomorrow will bring. If you don't tell the people you love that you love and cherish them today, tomorrow might be too late.