Within ten minutes of lights out, stirrings began again in Barracks 2. First Kinch, then LeBeau and Newkirk descended into the tunnel. By the time Hogan reached the radio room, only Kinch was there, the other two having gone to attend to business in other branches of the tunnel network.
"They told me what happened, Colonel," said Kinch. "Is everything okay up there?"
"For now, I hope so," replied Hogan. "Kellet's going to need watching, but I doubt he'll take it further. Hasn't got the guts."
"Guys like him can make a lot of trouble," remarked Kinch. He'd had a few run-ins of his own with Kellet, who didn't like Negroes, either.
"Yeah." Hogan folded his arms. "I might have to consider moving him to another barracks. Or moving Mills, which I don't want to do. He's too useful, and he's safer with us. Kellet's got some like-minded friends in some of the other barracks."
He glanced over his shoulder, as the sound of the tunnel entrance opening reached him, and a few moments later Carter appeared on the ladder.
"Go on down to the workshop, Carter," said Hogan casually. "I'll be along in a couple of minutes.
"Yes, sir," murmured Carter.
Kinch watched him go out of sight, then turned a look of enquiry on his chief. He was in on Carter's history, but Carter didn't know it, and for the sake of his peace of mind the decision had been made to keep it that way. It wasn't always easy.
"I think he's got something he wants to get off his chest," said Hogan quietly. "So if you can try to make sure we're not interrupted..."
"I'll do what I can, Colonel," replied Kinch doubtfully. "Can't make any promises. You know what it's like down here at night."
Hogan went on to the workshop, where Carter had gone to make a few final adjustments on the bombs for the following night's mission. He looked up as Hogan came in.
"Just making sure the connections are safe," he said absently. "You don't want anything going off while Mills is crawling under the truck with it. I mean, it'd do the job, all right, but it'd be kinda tough on Mills."
"Yeah, I guess it would," agreed Hogan, sitting opposite and folding his arms.
There was a short silence, as Carter went over his handiwork, with much more care than he normally took. He was inclined to be careless of his own safety around explosives, although somehow he always escaped serious injury. It would be a long time before anyone forgot his attempts to manufacture chlorine gas, in the course of which he'd blown himself up a dozen times in two days. But it was a different matter when someone else was going to be handling the finished product.
Hogan sat back, waiting. He didn't have to wait long.
"Why does he let 'em say stuff like that?"
Carter was still inspecting the wiring, and spoke without looking up.
"You mean Mills?" Hogan leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the workbench. "You'd have to ask him. I can only make a guess, and I might be wrong."
"Okay," said Carter uncertainly. "It's just..." He didn't go on, but after a moment he put down the bundle of dynamite. "I mean, some of the fellers give me a hard time sometimes, when I do something really dumb, but I got used to that. But if anyone ever said anything like that, I..." Once again he broke off, and after a few seconds he finished, in a very low voice, "I don't know what I'd do."
"Carter, it's not likely you're ever going to be at the receiving end of that kind of crap," said Hogan. "You're not - "
"Excusez-moi, mon colonel."
LeBeau came bustling into the workshop, and Hogan straightened up. "What's up, LeBeau?"
"I'm just heading out to the woods, to get the herbs I need for tomorrow night's dinner party in Klink's quarters. I thought I should let you know."
"Yeah, thanks." Hogan glanced at Carter, who had gone back to work on the dynamite pack. "Don't be too long, and keep an eye out for patrols."
"I always do." LeBeau grinned, and headed off.
Carter continued working, and for almost a minute, not a word was spoken.
"Okay, Carter," said Hogan at last. "Something's biting you. Now, you can either keep it to yourself and let it keep worrying you, or you can tell me what it is and I'll see if I can fix it."
"I don't think you can, Colonel," murmured Carter. "There's just some things can't be fixed."
"Maybe. But I can at least try, right?"
Carter kept his head lowered, but still looked through his eyelashes at his colonel's face, as if trying to read his expression. He took a deep breath, braced himself to speak, then changed his mind. Hogan just kept waiting.
Finally Carter started again. "When you found out about - well, you know - I was really scared. I thought - I was scared you'd think - " He came to a stop, biting his lips together, looking up at the roof as if he thought he might find some inspiration among the cobwebs.
"I'd think what?" asked Hogan sharply. "Carter, what was it?"
Carter shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. For a few seconds Hogan thought the impulse to confide had passed. Then Carter spoke, in a whisper so quiet that Hogan almost missed it, rushing to get the words out before he lost his nerve again.
"I was scared you'd think I asked for it."
Hogan was shocked into silence. That was one thought that had never occurred to him.
"No," he said at last. "Damn it, Carter, no. What the hell put that idea into your head?" Then, as Carter covered his face with his hands, he moderated his tones a little. "Carter, I know how it happened. Nobody in their right mind would come up with a lame-brained idea like that. Why would you think...?"
He broke off abruptly, and Carter raised his head, and turned slightly away from the entrance, blinking rapidly. A few seconds later, Newkirk came into sight, a grey army greatcoat over one arm, and a tape measure draped around his neck.
"Wondered where you'd got to, Colonel," he said. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need a word with Carter about tomorrow night."
"What is it, Newkirk?" Carter had picked up the dynamite package and was to all appearances engrossed in it. He sounded distracted, but in control.
"Well, seeing as the colonel's not coming along, and he was going to be the lieutenant, it looks like one of us gets a promotion. And you make a better officer than I do."
"Yeah, okay," said Carter absently.
"So that being the case, I'll need to make a few alterations, because the only thing I don't have in your size is a lieutenant's uniform."
Hogan sighed. "Or you could make him a captain instead."
Newkirk thought for a moment, then laughed. "Well, yes, I could do that, I suppose." He looked from Hogan to Carter, then back to Hogan again. "I'll just go and see what I've got," he said, and backed out of the workshop.
He ran into LeBeau in the doorway. Carter cast up his eyes in despair, and Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose. We should have sold tickets, he thought.
"Sorry, mon colonel. I couldn't get out of the emergency tunnel. The night patrol's out there, with the dogs."
"Since when have the dogs been a problem for you?" demanded Hogan.
"Since I fed them that liver in red wine sauce that none of you would eat. Now they come running every time they see me. I will have to go out later, after they've gone."
"Fine. You do that." Hogan had folded his arms again. "Is there anything else you need to do tonight?"
"I don't think so," replied LeBeau with a shrug, coming to peer over Carter's shoulder.
"Then how about making some coffee? Take it to the radio room, I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
"Okay. Hey, nice work, Carter," said LeBeau, and vanished.
"Yeah. Thanks, Louis," murmured Carter. Then, as soon as he was sure LeBeau was out of earshot, he went on. "Sorry, Colonel. I guess the middle of a war's no place to try and have a private conversation."
Hogan grimaced in agreement. But there was something that had to be said, in spite of the possibility of further interruptions. "Look, Carter, I don't know who or what gave you that idea, but I want you to forget it, right now."
"I can't. Just because you never thought of it, doesn't mean nobody else is going to."
Even as he started to refute the argument, Hogan stopped in his tracks. He sat silent for half a minute, his eyebrows drawn in as he considered this new point of view.
"See?" said Carter at last. "A guy like Kellet would have a field day with it."
"Yeah, I see," Hogan replied slowly. "I guess it's no good telling you that guys like Kellet don't matter."
"When you're stuck in the same barracks with them for the duration, they matter." Carter pushed the demolition pack aside. "If he ever found out - "
"He's not going to find out," interrupted Hogan. "But if it ever did get out, we'd deal with it." He paused, watching Carter keenly. "Carter, I've said this before, and I'll keep saying it. And no matter what anyone else said to you before, you listen to me. You didn't do anything to deserve what happened."
"Yeah, I know that. Of course I know that," replied Carter uncertainly. "But…"
"Then here's something else to think about," Hogan went on. "I can't let the operation be compromised. But as long as you're part of it, I've got your back."
He stood up to leave, but had one more thing to say. "And if you think I'm letting you quit, you can think again. So you better just pull yourself together, Carter, because until I say otherwise, you're part of my team. Understood?"
Carter looked up at him, and the worried look slowly gave way to a smile. "Understood, Colonel," he said softly.