Notice: Dr. Richard Klaussner is my own character I created for this story. If anyone ever wishes to use him for a story in the future, just PM me for my permission and what he would be doing in your story. Feel free to also tell me what your story's about, too, and I might check it out for myself to read on my break! ;) Enough of the rambling! Chapter 3...here you go!
The four men waited impatiently in the hospital waiting room, begging to find out that Hogan was going to be okay. Kinch was pacing back and forth, Newkirk was shaking his leg from being so anxious, and Carter and LeBeau sat down on a sofa worried sick about their commanding officer.
Hogan had been in surgery for over two hours, now, and still no one had come back to report anything.
"How much longer are we gonna be just sitting here?!" Newkirk cried, frantic.
"The longer I wait, the more I grow worried." LeBeau whimpered.
"I don't know what I'm gonna do if anything happens to Colonel. I'll miss him like crazy; in fact, I don't think I'll be able to function, if worst comes to worse." Carter said.
"None of us are gonna be able to function without Colonel. We'd all be a grieving train wreck, if something happens to him." Kinch said, pacing. All the waiting was driving him simply mad.
"I sure hope Colonel's gonna be okay." Carter whimpered.
Kinch looked back and gave a friendly smile before going back to pacing.
"Colonel's gonna be just fine, Carter. You know how stubborn he is; he'll refuse to die." Kinch said, friendly. He then grew worried again and went back to pacing.
Newkirk was quiet and smacked his legs, rubbed them, then bent forward and sighed.
"It's all my fault." Newkirk murmured.
Kinch turned around, as he had heard Newkirk say something, but did not quite understand it.
"What did you say, Newkirk?" Kinch asked.
"I said it's my own bloody fault Colonel's here." Newkirk hissed. He was furious with himself and wanted someone to yell at him and punish him. He even wanted Klink to sentence him ninety days in the cooler would be a light sentence for what he was feeling.
"It's not your fault, buddy." Carter sadly said. He felt guilty as well. After all, it had been his explosives that hurt Hogan. He wished he would have gone back over his explosives again, making sure they were far away enough to not have caused any harm.
"I should've never had made him come." Newkirk whimpered, fighting back from crying. Had he never had convinced Hogan to come on this mission, he would be back at Stalag 13 waiting for them, now. He would be smiling and asking them how the mission went, and they would tell him successfully without any problem.
"It's all my fault. They were my explosives. I should've went over them more carefully. I knew Colonel was still weak from his pneumonia; I should've known better." Carter said, tears falling down his face.
"Your explosives wouldn't had been a problem, had I never bloody told the Gov'nor he was strong enough to come along with us, tonight!" Newkirk retorted back, harsh.
"Enough, all of you! Colonel's in that operating room fighting for his life, and all you guys are fighting over whose fault it is for Colonel being here!" Kinch snarled.
Everyone grew quiet and hung their heads. Kinch then sighed and changed his tone to a more friendly sound.
"We're all worried about Colonel, and we all want him to be alright. But sitting here and blaming ourselves for what happened isn't gonna help him anymore than it is, now."
"He's right, mes amis. What happened to the Colonel was a terrible, terrible accident. No one's at fault for him being hurt." LeBeau said, trying to be reassuring.
Carter sighed and nodded, still having tears roll down his cheeks.
"Okay, Louis." Carter quivered.
It may have worked for Carter, but Newkirk still felt rotten as sin. He had promised Hogan that he would protect him throughout the entire mission. He promised him that he would make sure nothing bad happened to him. Now because he had forgotten and walked away before checking that Hogan was following him, the four of them were now sitting in a hospital waiting room waiting to hear whether Hogan was going to live or die. If something happened to Hogan, Newkirk thought to himself he would never forgive himself for what he had done.
Another hour went by, and it was then finally that a familiar face walked out of the operating room. Dr. Richard Klaussner came out into the waiting room. Dr. Klaussner was a member of the Underground and a friend of the five men, especially Hogan. He had pure white hair and kind blue eyes. He was a man around his mid 60s'. The four men felt more easy knowing that he was the one caring for their commanding officer and friend. However, the look on his face was grim and not a good sign to any of them sitting there. The four men all rose and hurried their way to the old doctor.
"How is he, Doctor" Kinch asked, worried.
"Is he alright?" Carter whimpered.
"Can we see him?" LeBeau added in.
Dr. Klaussner sighed and shook his head, as he closed his eyes.
"I wish I had better news to tell you than what I'm about to." The old man said, softly.
"Oh, God, he died, didn't he! He's gone!" Newkirk shuddered. He was about to break down and cry right there in front of everybody.
"He's not dead...at least not now." Dr. Klaussner softly answered.
The four men grew perplexed, looked at one another, then back at their friend.
"What do you mean by that, Doctor?" Kinch asked. All of them were freaking out on the inside. They wanted to know how Hogan was, and they wanted to know now.
Dr. Klaussner sighed sadly before answering.
"Colonel Hogan had some pretty serious injuries, when you brought him in. Any later than when you brought him in, he would've died. There were several pieces of shrapnel in Colonel Hogan's stomach that tore several abdominal muscles and punctured his stomach. Because of such severe injuries, he lost quite a lot of blood during the operation. We had to give him about seven units of blood because of such blood loss. The injury to his head was also severe, as well. The blow to his head had torn open several layers of skin and muscle. We were able to stop blood flow, cleanse and stitch the area where a bandage is now placed." Dr. Klaussner began. There was one thing about Colonel Hogan that the old man was keeping from his four men. They easily picked up on it, and it was then Kinch asked the question.
"Doctor, you're keeping something from us...what is it?" Kinch asked.
"None of you will like it." Dr. Klaussner softly answered.
"For God's sake, Doctor, yah killing us, here! Just tell us!" Newkirk begged.
Dr. Klaussner sighed and talked, again.
"Colonel Hogan is in a coma. The blow to his head was so hard, it put him into a deep state of unconsciousness. Had that blow been any lower, and he would've died instantly."
"When will he wake up, mon ami?" LeBeau asked, softly.
Dr. Klaussner grew silent for the longest time then sighed before answering. He shook his head and opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something. It took long enough, before the old man finally did say something.
"...I don't know." The old doctor simply answered.
"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Kinch questioned.
"I don't know when Colonel Hogan will wake up...I'm not really sure if I even know if he'll wake up."
"Won't wake up."
Dr. Klaussner shook his head closing his eyes.
"There's a very high possibility that your Colonel will never regain consciousness."
"What are you trying to say?" Kinch asked, growing fearful for the answer that was to come.
"...I'm afraid that there is a very likely possibility that Colonel Hogan will die from his injuries. As from examining him, when he came in, he seems to be suffering from a case of pneumonia."
"What's left of it, yes."
"Unfortunately, Colonel Hogan inhaled quite a bit of smoke from being so close by to the explosion site. The smoke has caused damage to his lungs, making him once again develop a case of bacterial pneumonia."
"But Colonel's pneumonia was viral."
"I know...which raises his chances of dying even higher. With what virus was still left in his respiratory system, the bacterial pneumonia has made it that much worse. We're giving him oxygen through his nose, since he was having difficulty breathing, when he was brought in."
Carter started softly crying. Kinch wrapped an arm around him and held his friend close and comforting.
"Can we see him...please, Richard." Kinch softly begged.
"Right now, he's in recovery. When he is moved into another room, my assistant will come down here and escort you to his room. As for me, I will stay here and give Colonel Hogan's prognosis to your Kommandant."
Kommandant Wilhelm Klink of Stalag 13 had been called by the request of the four men. They knew they had to notify Klink, as keeping this a secret would be mere impossible. Both Dr. Klaussner and the men had come up with the scenario that Hogan had a severe fall from his bunk bed and hit his head on his footlocker and shards of glass from an object in Hogan's room had cut through Hogan's stomach. Dr. Klaussner had made up the explanation that not wanting to disturb the Kommandant, the prisoners had one of the guards from Stalag 13 drive them out to the hospital with them tagging along to make sure Hogan was alright.
Kinch nodded sadly, but understood that Dr. Klaussner would make sure Hogan got everything possible in order to get healthy and return to his men, again.
"Thank you, Richard." Kinch softly said.
Dr. Klaussner nodded.
"Dr. Klaussner...you'll help Colonel to get better, right?" LeBeau asked, fighting back his tears.
"I'll do whatever I can for him, LeBeau, but I don't promise anything. As of now, he's in God's hands, now. These next 72 hours will be an extremely critical period, so we'll know more after that...if he makes it that long, that is."
Kinch nodded, sadly and went back to comforting his friend, who was softly weeping into his black shirt.
It was not long after that, when Klink stormed out of the elevator and over to his prisoners and the doctor talking with them. Klink was in his cap, trench coat, and leather gloves.
"Dr. Klaussner, how is he? We talked a little earlier on the phone." Klink said, slightly worried. Inside, he was terrified for his Senior POW Officer, but had to show like it was not such a huge concern of his in order to not show the prisoners he did actually genuinely care about Hogan.
Dr. Klaussner turned to Kinch, as if he had just met him.
"Is this your Kommandant, Sergeant Kinchloe?" Dr. Klaussner asked, acting like they were not on a friendly ground with one another.
"Yes, Doctor." Kinch simply answered. He took Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau to go sit back down in the chairs and sofa in the waiting room, as Dr. Klaussner talked with Klink.
"How serious are his injuries, Doctor?" Klink asked.
"Colonel Hogan is in a coma. As of now, whether he will live or die is completely up in the air, but there is a high chance that he may never regain consciousness."
"Are you saying Colonel Hogan may die?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
Klink slightly shuddered and nodded.
"I understand, Doctor." Klink softly said.
Dr. Klaussner nodded and left Klink alone with his prisoners. With that, Klink marched over angry with the prisoners and began interrogating them.
"You four snuck out of the barracks after curfew?" Klink hissed.
"It was either that or let Colonel die; which would you prefer?" Newkirk replied, tired. He was not in the mood for Klink's questions.
"And why are you four all dressed in black?"
"We were rehearsing for our musical production, when we heard Colonel Hogan fall in his quarters." Kinch answered, softly.
"Musical production; I gave no permission for such thing." Klink remarked.
"We were practicing in case you would have the common courtesy to let us do so."
"Absolutely not; request denied. You're just lucky you had a good reason to leave camp! Next time, it'll be the cooler for the four of you!"
"There won't be a next time, Kommandant. I promise."
Klink moaned and shook his fist in the air, when Dr. Klaussner's assistant came out for Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau. The four men rose to their feet and walked over to the doctor. He was younger, about in his mid forties. His hairstyle looked like Klink's, and he had dark skin and brown eyes. He nodded and took the four down the hall and to an elevator. They entered and went up to the 6th floor and continued following the doctor through a zigzag of hallways, until they stopped at a door. The assistant opened the door to reveal a dark room with only a lamp light lighting the room. Hogan lay silently on the hospital bed in a hospital gown covered up with white blankets and sheets. His right hand rested comfortably on his belly, an IV in his right hand, and an oxygen assistance up his nose. He also had several wires connected to his chest that attached to a machine that was making line markings of Hogan's pulse, heartbeat, and blood pressure.
The assistant closed the door, leaving the four men in silence, as they stared at their commanding officer. They had never seen him so lifeless before in their lives. He was more lively when he was sick with pneumonia than now. Carter silently walked over and sat down by Hogan's legs letting tears stream down his face. He took hold of Hogan's left hand and held it tight but gently. The remaining three approached the bed with Kinch standing by Hogan's nightstand, LeBeau sitting in a chair by the nightstand, and Newkirk standing behind Carter with his hands placed gently on his best friend's shoulders to comfort him.
"Hi, Colonel," Carter croaked, softly.
Nothing more but the sounds of the machine beeping and running were heard, as what once was their lively commanding officer now lying in bed, the rise and falling of his chest being the only movement he made.
"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm not leaving your side for one second, Colonel...no siree, I'm staying right here, until you wake up." Carter said, breaking.
Newkirk gently rubbed Carter's back comforting him.
Kinch looked at Carter with sympathy, turned back to Hogan, and sighed.
"Don't worry, Colonel...I'll make sure nothing bad happens to any of them, while you're sick. I promise, Colonel." Kinch softly spoke.
That word again: 'promise'. Newkirk had promised Hogan he would protect him...and he felt as if he had let his commanding officer down. He had not been able to save his friend from what now may be the last time he ever talked to him, again. It made Newkirk's heart ache, as if it were burning in flames. He made a sickly face, before he swallowed a large lump in his throat and was able to look at Hogan, again.
"We will think of you and pray for you, Colonel. You'll never leave our thoughts for a moment!" LeBeau said, starting to cry.
"I'm so sorry, Gov'nor...I hope you're able to forgive me, sir." Newkirk whispered, softly. A tear rolled down his face, but he quickly wiped it away.
There was a knock on the door, and Dr. Klaussner came in with a sad expression on his face.
"I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave, now. Your Kommandant is adamant about it." Dr. Klaussner softly said.
Kinch nodded. He turned to look at Hogan once last time and squeezed his shoulder gently, like he had always done, when one of his men were sad. He closed his eyes and nodded, asking God to protect him and make him well, again, then he headed right to Dr. Klaussner and waited for his friends to say goodbye for now.
LeBeau went next and wrapped his arms around Hogan, hugging him gently. After silently crying a little into Hogan's lifeless body, he rose, let go of Hogan, and nodded. He then followed Kinch and stood by him.
Carter repeated the same thing LeBeau had done then held Hogan's hand one more time. He gave it a squeeze, letting him know that he was not leaving him, and went over to Kinch and LeBeau.
Newkirk was the last to remain of the four of them. He looked at Hogan and sat down on his bed. He sighed and let out a shaky breath and patted Hogan's shoulder, begging inside he would wake up and tell them that he would be okay. Sadly, nothing happened. Newkirk nodded, as he continued looking at Hogan.
"Don't worry, Gov'nor; I'll take care of my mates, while you're gone. We'll come back and see yah, again...and that's a promise that I will never break." Newkirk croaked. He let a few tears stream down his face now and did not wipe them away.
After all of them had said goodbye to Hogan, the four men left the hospital and returned home to Stalag 13, as they would begin a journey without Hogan with them.