Chapter Twenty-Two: The Choice

Sleep had turned out to be an elusive thing. Hogan simply had too many thoughts running through his mind.

He had contacted London. They knew he was here and what he could do. They had his plan and he had hope that they would see its value and dedicate some resources to helping them carry it out. Everything he wanted was falling into to place.

So why was he suddenly feeling conflicted?

Not wanting to follow that train of thought where it led, Hogan turned his mind to another stress inducing subject: Sergeant Olsen.

He and Olsen had started off on the wrong foot from the start. He recognized that now. And even though the Sergeant had proved to be an invaluable resource with his talent for sneaking out of camp and blending in with the local civilian population, the two men had kept the interactions formal in order to avoid a repeat of their earlier arguments. So why had Olsen acted?

Perhaps he had been the only one in position. But that idea didn't convince Hogan. The soldier had given up his freedom of movement in order to keep the radio hidden. And for a man who had proved himself incapable of remaining within the walls of Stalag Thirteen for any significant period of time, Hogan knew that a stint in the cooler would be unbearable.

Furthermore, even though Olsen enjoyed the trips to town and had volunteered to meet up with members of the Underground, Hogan still suspected that the Sergeant was still not on board with the escape plan. However, because of Olsen's actions that plan remained viable.

What was an officer to think?

Hogan trusted Olsen to go to town, to meet up with members of the Underground. That was an undeniable fact. However, a lot of the trust was based on the enlisted man's reliability on always returning when ordered. But Hogan couldn't forget Olsen's earlier insubordination. So he kept him at arm's distance inside of camp, only using him inside the wires when the job demanded it.

Had he read Olsen wrong?

Hogan finally managed a few fitful hours of sleep before Schultz announced roll call. As he stood in line, all he wanted was for the formality to end. He needed to get into the cooler to see Olsen before putting together plans for their transmission tonight. He couldn't afford another close call.

Unfortunately, Klink had decided that the camp needed another lecture about the futility of escape. Hogan suspected half the camp was tempted to make a break for the wire just to escape his voice. Thankfully, not even their Kommandant could speak forever and they were dismissed.

As the men scattered, Newkirk approached. "Here, Colonel," he said as he handed over a candy bar. "That's one of the last in camp. I had to agree to let LeBeau cook for another barracks to get this one."

Hogan nodded. Hopefully, the next set of Red Cross packages would come soon. However, he couldn't focus on that problem the moment. He needed to find to Schultz before the German's shift ended and he fell fast asleep.

Once Hogan cornered the Sergeant of the Guard, he discovered that an exhausted Schultz was an easier bribe than normal. The guards on duty were ordered to allow Hogan ten minutes alone to talk with the prisoner and then Schultz headed off to bed.

Olsen smiled as Hogan approached. "Good morning, sir."

Determined not to be taken aback by the man's unusually cheerful nature, Hogan cut straight to the point. "You surprised me, Olsen."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Your actions last night. You let Schultz catch you."

"It appeared to me that Schultz was about to spot you if I didn't do something. I'm just glad it worked."

Who was this Olsen and what had he done with the disrespectful POW he was used to? "Why did you do it, Sergeant?"

Olsen looked hurt. "Sir, I've taken more risks than anyone else for this operation. I don't understand why you are surprised."

Hogan stood still in shock. Olsen was right; he did shoulder the biggest risks.

Olsen rose and walked right up to the bars and met his CO's eye. "You never asked me why, sir."

"Excuse me?" Hogan sputtered.

"That night at the Hofbrau. You never asked why I didn't escape. You guessed, but you never asked."

Realizing that Olsen was right and that there was probably a reason for him to bring this up now, Hogan took the bait. "Okay, Olsen. I'm asking now."

"I did escape the first time, but I was curious. The Germans were supposed to be evil. I was supposed to hate them. They killed my father. But I had to meet them. So I talked with them, drank with them. And once I started seeing them as people, I couldn't go through with it. But I also couldn't stay away."

Hogan nodded solemnly. "It is easy to kill some faceless enemy. But harder when you see the enemy as a person."

"Exactly, sir. I knew that if I escaped I would probably end up back in a bomber. If I knew I was just hurting Nazis that wouldn't be a problem, but…"

"You know as well as I do that bombs don't distinguish between the innocent and the guilty."

It was at that moment that Hogan finally began to think positively about the younger soldier. There was something deeper going on here. "So the insubordination?"

"Better to be thought of as insubordinate than a coward and a traitor, sir."

Hogan opened his mouth to protest that statement, but he quickly closed it. An insubordinate man was a pain in any officer's neck, but a man who admitted that he didn't want to fight out of concern for the enemy was a threat. A threat that would have to be neutralized. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you and I aren't all that different, sir. You've met them, worked with them. You won't be able to go back either."

Curse that boy. He was right. But unlike Olsen, Hogan didn't have a choice. "Olsen, I'm an officer. I have a duty to escape. But I do understand where you are coming from. So if you want to stay in Germany when we escape, I won't stop you."

"But, sir, stay behind in a prison camp! I couldn't…"

"And leave you alone with Klink? I wouldn't be that cruel to my worst enemy!" Hogan grinned. "No, what I meant was that you could stay in Germany and help the Underground. London would probably love to have an agent in this area."

"You spoke with London." After Hogan nodded, Olsen said, "Sir, I don't know what to say."

"I can't make any promises. But I'll talk with London and see what I can arrange."

"Thank you, sir." Then Olsen stood straight and saluted.

Hogan returned the gesture as the two former antagonistic prisoners gazed upon each other with respect.

When Hogan left the cooler, his thoughts were still a jumbled mess. He couldn't believe that Olsen had fooled him so easily. Though he had to admit that the Sergeant made good points. The problem was that Olsen was also right in saying that he was not alone in his thinking. Could he really go back to bombing the German countryside after what he had seen?

Did he want to?

But staying in Germany was not an option for him. He had a responsibility to every man in this camp. He would do his duty to them. Even if it came at the cost of his own conscience. But that didn't silence the small voice in head that whispered, "There has to be a better way."

This was not happening.

Making contact with London the second time had been even easier than the first. After last night, Hogan had taken additional precautions. Kinch would go alone, except for Newkirk who would climb onto the roof to raise and lower the antenna. Hogan remained behind with LeBeau to run interference with the guards if necessary. Kinch's orders were to transcribe the message and inform Mama Bear that his CO would send their reply the next night. Yet, as Kinch was lying on his stomach under the Kommandant's porch, he couldn't bring himself to admit that the message he had just received was real.

He must have heard incorrectly. He must have misinterpreted the code.

Say again. Kinch quickly tapped out.

The orders came back the same as before, and all he could do was record them. If he stopped to think about them, to try and process what he was writing, he never would have succeeded in faithfully transcribing them. For it took every ounce of discipline he possessed to continue with proper radio protocols.

He was in a daze as he signed off and packed up his equipment. He forgot to gesture to Newkirk to lower the antenna, but thankfully the Englishman was on top of it. How Kinch managed to get back to Barracks Two without walking straight into a guard or a spotlight was a minor miracle in itself.

Once he was safely settled in Hogan's quarters, he handed over the orders that he knew would change everything.

The Colonel's eyes grew wide as he looked down at that fateful piece of blue paper. Finally after he must have read it three or four times, Hogan read aloud, "Your orders are to remain in Stalag Thirteen and set up a base of operations. You will assist escaping prisoners, cooperate with all friendly forces, and use every means to harass and injure the enemy."*

Never one to hold back what he was thinking, Newkirk spoke first. "Are they out of their bleeding minds?"

"They want us to be spies!" LeBeau exclaimed.

Kinch studied his superior officer. "They don't really expect us to pull this off?"

Hogan held out his hand in a calming gesture. "Settle down. I think we can assume London is serious."

"No," Newkirk said.

"Never." LeBeau agreed.

"Impossible," Kinch added.

The Colonel looked pensive as he stared at their orders. This couldn't be happening – he was actually considering accepting them.

"Sir," Kinch begin tentatively, "we rescued a few flyers. We blew up one ammo dump. We got lucky. We might get lucky a few more times, but sooner or later the Krauts will wise up and we'll be caught."

LeBeau crossed his arms. "I don't know about you, but I have an aversion to dying."

"If we get this operation off the ground, we could keep a lot of good men from dying," Hogan countered.

"But are you willing to risk the lives of every single man in this camp for a few downed flyers?" Kinch asked. "Because if we get caught, it is not just our necks that will be on the chopping block."

That struck a nerve. Hogan may be a cocky man, willing to risk his own life in hopes of achieving something greater than himself. But he was not a man who would carelessly throw away the lives of the men under his command.

"Colonel," Newkirk said softly, "we aren't heroes; we're just POWs. And this POW wants to see London again."

Hogan replied gently, "I hear you and I do think your concerns are valid. But I do think we need to consider the proposal. Sleep on it and take tomorrow to think it over. We'll meet in my office after evening roll call."

Newkirk and LeBeau shuffled out the door, but Kinch didn't move. He could tell Hogan was taking these orders seriously, and he feared that the officer would feel that he had no choice but to accept them. "Sir, permission to speak freely."

"Kinch, I think we've gone past the point where you need to ask."

"You know that there is no shame in telling HQ that these orders aren't feasible."

Hogan looked him directly in the eye. "Do you think I should refuse to carry out this orders?"

Kinch's mind was screaming that of course they should refuse, but his heart told him that he needed to choose his next words carefully. "I think London will understand if we told them that conditions here are unfavorable to carrying out this plan. But, you are right, sir. We do need to think it over first."

Then, without another word, Kinch gently closed the door behind him and climbed into his bunk.

He didn't even try to sleep; there was no point in trying. London's message had taken him completely off guard – it had taken them all completely off guard. They had all figured that it would be a long shot to get London to agree to the camp-wide escape plan. None of them had ever imagined that London would come back with a plan even crazier and riskier than their own.

Looking at the orders from London's perspective, Kinch tried to be objective. The Allies needed a source of information from inside Germany. Yes, they probably had contacts in the Underground, but to have men they knew to be firmly on their own side would be invaluable. From the military standpoint they expected to lose a certain amount of men as POWs, and while the return of trained men would be of great benefit, it wasn't the end of the war if they remained prisoners for the duration.

Besides, if they got the operation up and running, the Allies would still receive a steady stream of downed flyers to replenish their ranks – just not from Stalag Thirteen.

From a military standpoint, the pros of having a sabotage, intelligence and rescue organization in central Germany outweighed the cost of the lives of hundreds of lives if they were caught. That was just good tactics.

However, while saying yes was the right choice from a military perspective, that didn't make it the right choice for Staff Sergeant James Ivan Kinchloe.

He had enlisted in the USAAF for the chance of doing something memorable, to do something that would make the world notice his people. He had enlisted, knowing that even if he died, he would die a hero and that his death would bring some recognition to his people's plight.

Those plans had ended the day his plane was shot down.

However, his shot at glory had not completely passed.

If he escaped and made it back to his unit, he would be an even bigger hero and the white population of Detroit would have to take notice. His story would be in the papers, and word of his escapades would spread.

But if he stayed and agreed to Hogan's plan, all the folks back home would never know what he had accomplished. They would see him as the fool who had left to fight, gotten shot down and spent the whole war wasting away in a POW camp.

For Stalag Thirteen would have to be classified. They would all die if it wasn't. The success of this type of operation depended on the world not knowing. And if they survived the war, who knew how long it would be before their operation was declassified?

So if he agreed to this scheme, there would be no glory, no public acknowledgement of his deeds, and his goal of gaining recognition for his people would end.

Still, if he stayed he would have an opportunity to make a real difference in the war effort. If they got a rescue operation going, they could possibly save dozens, if not hundreds of lives. If they were able to sabotage German war production they could save even more lives of soldiers fighting on the frontlines.

For the first time in his life, someone was offering him the chance to make the difference he had been yearning for all his life. But to make a difference, he would have to give up his chance of glory. No, not just his chance of glory, because if hewas just risking his own personal glory it would be selfish to refuse. However, as a colored man he knew all too well that this decision was bigger than himself.

Could he put the good of his country before the good of his own people?

A wave of anger washed over him; what had his country ever given him? What had his country ever done for his people?

He knew the answer to that question by heart: slavery, oppression, poverty, discrimination, lynching, Jim Crow, pain, suffering, death.

Now he was supposed to sacrifice a chance to help earn the recognition his people deserved, in order to secretly fulfill the will of a military that practiced segregation.

He was supposed to give up potentially years of his life, of time away from his family, and for what? A chance to make a difference, yes, but that difference would be to save the lives of white men.

The sacrifices were too great, and the benefits too weighted in his oppressor's favor.

James, your life may be the easiest thing you will be asked to sacrifice before this war is over.

Kinch buried his head in his hands.

How could his grandfather have been so right?

Hogan paced as he once again read the orders in his hand.

He had made difficult decisions in the past. Decisions that meant life or death for the men under his command. But none of those decisions had prepared him to make this one.

Could he really make the decision to risk the lives and the freedom of every man in this camp for the hope that he could set up a successful intelligence, rescue and sabotage operation?

His men had all immediately refused, but yet Hogan still wanted to do this. He needed to do this. Olsen had been right. There was no going back after all he had seen. He had begun to think of the German people as more than just some faceless, nameless enemy. He knew now that there were those who opposed Hitler. So how could he leave them to fight their battles alone?

There was so much potential here. They had a connection with the Underground. They could work out a more efficient system to process downed flyers. Depending on the type of visitors who came through this camp, they might even be able to pass on valuable military information.

That was – if it worked.

Normally, he'd say it'd be impossible but he had a good group of men. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, Olsen – they were all men with the skills and the bravery to pull this off. And their captors – Klink, Schultz and Burkhalter – they were all men that Hogan believed he could manipulate. None of them were evil.

However, Hogan couldn't force the others to agree. The operation would never work with unwilling men, and the one man whom he figured was the most likely to argue in favor of this operation was still in the cooler.

But as Hogan thought through the logistics of setting up this operation, the more doubtful he became that he would be able to get the others to agree to this plan.

No escapes. They would have to remain in Stalag Thirteen for the duration. They couldn't afford to lose Klink and have him replaced with a competent commander. But he had promised his men that they were working toward a mass escape; how he could he now convince them that the best thing they could do was to remain a prisoner-of-war? How could he convince them to give up the glory and prestige, to give up the chance to go home and be with their families or return to fight on the frontlines?

It was an impossible task.

The sacrifice demanded for such an operation was simply too great.

* The last sentence of the orders from London is a quote comes from the episode "The Collector General."