Chapter Fifteen: A Traveler in Need

Evening roll call was not what one would call the most exciting part of a prisoner's day, though it was amazing how one little dogfight could change all that.

The two planes battled overhead while Klink tried to order the prisoners back to the barracks. No one cooperated as the POWs remained outside, cheering their side on.

Hogan's eyes followed the planes' every move. "Looks like a spitfire."

"I wonder what one is doing this far afield," Kinchloe mused as they watched the fighters exchange fire.

"Reconnaissance, probably," Newkirk stated.

"Who cares?" LeBeau said excitedly. "Get the dirty Boche."

Unfortunately, fortune was not on the Allies' side this day as the spitfire received a direct hit to the wing sending the plane into a death spiral. A single white parachute fluttered through the night sky as it headed down towards the woods north of camp.

A groan passed through the camp as the prisoners took in the defeat of one of their own. Klink, however, was unable to refrain from gloating. "And that is another demonstration of the all powerful Luftwaffe! Dismissed."

The prisoners booed before shuffling off to their barracks. Kinchloe could tell that the men were upset by their side's loss. It was bad enough that they were prisoners without seeing further signs of their captors' winning ways.

Hogan appeared to be deep in thought; though what the Colonel thought they could do to change anything was beyond Kinchloe's imagination. However, he didn't have to wait as Hogan strolled to the center of the room and said, "Heads up, men. We haven't lost this battle yet."

Curious faces studied their commanding officer as he continued, "We all saw the parachute so we know the pilot is alive."

"So did the guards," Olsen countered. "He'll be a POW before the day is over."

Hogan wasn't ready to give up. "We can't just leave the pilot to be captured by Klink."

"Sir, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" Newkirk looked askance at his superior officer.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"Great," LeBeau said. "Would you care to inform the rest of us?"

"LeBeau, Newkirk and I will go through the wire and find our friend before the krauts do."

Newkirk groaned as LeBeau cried, "What?"

Hogan cracked the barracks' door to check that the coast was clear. "We don't have much time. Are you coming or not?"

Kinchloe had to admit Hogan had guts and, even though Newkirk and LeBeau didn't look too thrilled by the way they had been volunteered, they both followed the Colonel out the door with only a few muttered complaints.

Once their fellow POWs had disappeared without any alarms sounding, Kinchloe settled in for what would probably be a long wait.

"The Colonel is just going to get himself caught," Brown declared to the room.

"He's in uniform," Anderson said. "They'll think he's an escaped prisoner and he'll get a few weeks in the cooler."

Though Kinchloe didn't say so aloud, that also probably explained why Hogan hadn't included him in the volunteers. Hogan needed him free to finish the radio.

"Yeah, well, they won't have to wait too long for that to happen," Olsen stated. "Klink just sent a large squad of guards in the same direction that Hogan and the others went."

Moving swiftly over to the window, Kinchloe saw that Olsen was right. A lot of guards were moving in the right direction. Hogan, Newkirk and LeBeau were going to get caught! And there was nothing that Kinchloe could do to help…or was there?

It would have been a crazy idea if it hadn't already worked once. Though he might have used up all of his luck the last time. But there was only one way to find out.

And for some reason, not trying was never a viable option for Kinchloe.

Turning to Olsen, he asked, "How familiar are you with the geography of the woods north of camp?"

Olsen looked oddly at him. "I've wandered around those roads. Why?"

Kinchloe hesitated for a brief second. He had had no authority to ask anything of Olsen but he needed the information the young man had. So he faked confidence as he ordered, "Name me a landmark near where the pilot came down but one that isn't in the Colonel's path."

Thankfully, his fellow countryman did not appear offended as he answered, "The Hoffenstein Pass is in that area. But I can't guarantee from this distance how far away it is from our pilot."

It was a risk but Kinchloe knew it was a risk he would have to take or Hogan and the others would be caught for sure.

"What do you think are you doing, Sergeant?" Anderson demanded as Kinchloe headed toward the door.

"My duty," Kinchloe replied, before ducking out the door and leaving a speechless barracks in his wake.

With prisoners confined to barracks and only the number of guards needed to maintain a secure perimeter left it camp, Stalag Thirteen felt empty. He knew it wasn't, it was just that he wasn't used being outside alone. However, he wouldn't complain as it meant that it was easy to dodge the spotlights as he dashed across the compound. He needed a phone, but he knew that Klink would be in his office. And with all this activity going on, the outer office would most likely be in use as well. But as he skirted the building, he noticed that Klink's quarters were unguarded.

Before he could question himself, Kinchloe decided to try those rooms and a minute later he was through the unlocked door and standing in the middle of an oddly decorated room.

He didn't have time to critique Klink's lack of taste as he spotted a phone and quickly dialed the number he remembered from his failed escape a few weeks ago.

"Kommandant Klink speaking."

Telling himself it had worked last time, Kinchloe spoke in his best German. "Good evening, are you in charge of the prisoners?"

"Yes, Herr…?"

There was no time to think; he gave the first name that popped in his head. "Kinchmeyer."

"Yes, Herr Kinchmeyer, I am the one who keeps these prisoners in their cage."

"Good. I don't like the idea of dangerous prisoners wandering around. I have daughters, and I hate to think of what those barbarians would do. So I want you to come and capture this parachuter. He is much too close to my farm and my girls."

"I already have men out looking for him, Herr Kinchmeyer. Did you happen to spot where he came down?"

"Ja, near the Hoffenstein Pass."

"Danke, Herr Kinchmeyer. My men will find him in no time."

"They'd better. Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler."

Kinchloe was amazed at Klink's continued ability to be manipulated. Hopefully, the call would help with the guards. The ball is in your court now, Colonel.

Newkirk had done his fair share of sneaking around ever since Hogan had gotten him to agree to this crazy scheme, but as he crouched behind the third bush in five minutes hoping not to be spotted, he feared that this time they had bitten off more than they could chew.

Once the latest patrol passed, Newkirk crawled towards his superior officer. "Sir, there are too many krauts out and about. We'll never get through."

Hogan frowned. Newkirk could tell the same thought had crossed his CO's mind several times in the last couple of minutes. "Problem is it will be just as hard to get back to camp."

LeBeau considered their problem. "Let me climb a tree and see if I can spot a path out of here."

Newkirk smirked. "Really?"

"I do better when I'm not thrown into it," LeBeau hissed softly.

Hogan didn't seem amused by his colleagues' bickering tendencies. "Go, LeBeau."

As Newkirk crouched back down into the same bush, he had to admit that LeBeau did do much better without his help.

A few minutes later, LeBeau slithered down the trunk. "The patrols are heading west."

Sighing, Hogan conceded, "That clears us a path back to camp."

"But, Colonel, I saw the parachute. It is less than a kilometer north-east."

Newkirk couldn't believe their luck. "Then what are we waiting for!"

When they found the flyer, the poor bugger was hanging just inches from the ground, unable to free himself from his harness. His eyes grew wide and his mouth opened as he spotted them.

Hogan spoke first. "Ssh, we're on your side."

"How?" the soldier, an RAF squadron leader by the look of the bars on his shoulders.

"Long story. Just be quiet and let Newkirk cut you out of that thing."

Taking that as an order, Newkirk showed that LeBeau was not the only one capable of climbing trees and managed to get the man free in a matter of minutes.

Once they had put some distance between themselves and the parachute, the flyer asked, "Who are you?"

Hogan chuckled. "Think of us as your friendly neighborhood travel agents."

"You're based in this area?"

"Stalag Thirteen."

"But you're POWs!"

"That, too."

The squadron leader looked at his fellow countryman. "Is he crackers or is this true?"

"Oh, the Guv'nor's crackers all right. But every word is also true."

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement, Newkirk."

"Any time, sir."

LeBeau, who had gotten a bit ahead of them, turned around. "Are you going to talk all night or head back to camp?"

"You want to go back to a prison camp?" the officer was beginning to sound unsure.

"Hey, it's not much," Hogan quipped. "But it's home."

When Kinchloe returned to the barracks, the others asked about what he had done, but he just shrugged. It had been a crazy, spur of the moment idea and he wasn't sure it would help.

After that, no one talked as they continued their long wait. The coffee pot was emptied and more was put on. Anderson nervously checked the windows whenever he thought no one was watching and the others simply found comfortable positions where they could sit or lay and count the minutes as they passed. Kinchloe knew he had work to do on the radio, but he doubted he would be able to concentrate as long as the others were out of camp. Not after realizing just how much he wanted the others to return safely and not just because it would be a benefit to their side.

When he finally heard the door open, he didn't even look, assuming that it was a guard and that they had just been discovered. But shouts of joy from the other men told him otherwise and he turned and saw that their hut was now one man over.

Hogan held out a hand for silence. "Gentlemen, meet Squadron Leader Albert Crane of the RAF."

Once Crane had been properly greeted and given the best mug of coffee the barracks could muster, the POWs gathered around the table to hear the story of their escapade.

"How did it go?" Bennett asked eagerly.

"Slow," LeBeau said. "My hands were shaking the whole time"

"We knew we were getting close to where Crane came down but the woods were crawling with krauts," Newkirk added.

Hogan agreed. "We can thank our lucky stars they decided to move their search to a different area or they might have found us in addition to Crane here."

Kinchloe smiled to himself. His phone call had worked, though he doubted that anyone would ever believe it. But that didn't matter. He could be proud of his skills and the fact that he had helped save the lives of men he was beginning to think of as his friends.

But when Kinchloe failed to correct Hogan's account, Anderson stepped forward. "I don't think it was luck, sir."

Hogan looked curious. "Explain."

"We all saw the guards leave to join the search. All of a sudden, Kinchloe starts drilling Olsen on nearby landmarks and the next he's sprinting out of barracks. He didn't tell us what he did, but I think he must have done something since the guards moved their search."

Kinchloe was surprised at Anderson's admission. The Sergeant Major wasn't a bad man, but he hadn't made it a secret that he didn't believe that Kinchloe's people belonged in this war. Anderson could have remained silent and Kinchloe's contribution would have gone unnoticed. So what had changed?

"Kinchloe?" Hogan clearly wanted the whole story.

"Sir, I snuck into Klink's quarters and called him in his office, claiming to be a Herr Kinchmeyer. I told him that I had seen a parachute come down near the Hoffenstein Pass."

Hogan chuckled. "Herr Kinchmeyer, I like it. Has a good ring to it."

LeBeau grimaced. "A Boche ring to it. Kinch is better."

"I think I have to agree." Then raising his mug, Hogan said, "Good work, Kinch. And you too, Olsen."

Kinchloe smiled as he acknowledged the praise, but did Hogan and LeBeau really just call him Kinch?

Crane took another sip from his mug. "Well, it sounds like I owe the lot of you my thanks."

"Don't thank us yet," Hogan said. "We still have to get you out of here."

"How?" the officer asked.

"I'll tell you once I figure it out. But in the meantime we need to figure out where to hide you."

"What about the tunnel?" Bennett suggested.

"No," Kinchloe said. "It'd work short term, but it could be days before we figure out a way to get him out of camp."

Snapping his fingers, Hogan announced, "I got it. Olsen, I have a job for you."

Olsen looked uneasy. "What is it, sir?"

Hogan grinned. "You'll like this one. I want you to go into town and stay for three days."

Olsen didn't know whether to look excited or worried. "But what about roll call?"

"Crane here will take your place."

"Won't someone notice?"

Hogan laughed. "Schultz notice? I'm not worried about him. But if you don't want to go out to town I can probably find another volunteer."

"No need, sir," Olsen replied.

They all had a laugh and toasted to their success and to Olsen's health. They had put in a lot of work preparing for their coming escape and they still had a lot of work left. But for tonight they could take a break and celebrate a very tangible victory. One man was free and they intended to keep him that way.