A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love. First posted in 2012, as one of the final chapters of "A POW's Best Friend".

At Stalag 13 in the dark days following the Battle of the Bulge, both dogs and humans need all the hope they can muster...

December 24, 1944

Christmas Eve...what a time to get a radio communication from London, especially after the bad news they had received a week ago. Hogan looked at the message Baker had just handed him and frowned. He held it up closer to the flickering oil lamp, and began to read it aloud.

"Sabotaging of bridges to cease, repeat, do not sabotage bridges. Incorporate any escapers or evaders you encounter into present prison population. Intelligence gathering only authorized activity at this time, otherwise dig in for the duration. Relay message to underground contacts."

His men looked at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief.

"So we keep any new guys we come across," Baker mused. "Guess we can't say 'no room at the inn', huh?"

"How long is the bloody duration going to be, Colonel?" Newkirk asked. "What with the Jerries springing that offensive, and all..."

"And what do they mean about no more sabotaging of bridges?" Carter wanted to know. "I still got that batch of explosives from the last parachute drop!"

Hogan handed the slip of paper back to Baker. "It can mean only one thing. Despite the current setback, our tanks will be rolling into Germany soon and they'll want the bridges intact. Face it, fellas, our days at Uncle Wilhelm's boarding house are numbered. We just need to hang on."

"It won't be a minute too soon for me," Kinch growled, and Olsen grinned.

"Ah, to be back in jolly old London town." Newkirk closed his eyes, as though savoring the vision.

"Mais, mon Colonel...what will happen to the dogs?" LeBeau's face was troubled. "They have helped us as much as any members of the Resistance."

Hogan's jaw set and his eyes were narrowed with determination. "I'll tell Schnitzer to dig in as well. And after the war's over, I'll use all the leverage I can to make sure our Resistance friends are safe...including the dogs."

"You know, the real Rin Tin Tin got to go home with an American soldier after the first war," offered Carter. "Do you think we'd be allowed to adopt them?"

"Why not?" said Hogan. He looked around at the suddenly grinning faces. "Remember, it's Christmas Eve...you gotta have a little faith. And hope."

Oskar signed off on the radio and got to his feet. The Schnitzers were all gathered at the kitchen table to celebrate the Holy Evening, with the loaf of Stollen ready to be sliced. His family looked at him with anxious expressions as he took his place at the table, and he smiled wryly. "I know Hitler has been trumpeting how the Ardennes offensive will mean certain victory for him, but he's wrong. The western Allies will be crossing into Germany soon: so, no more sabotaging of bridges. Colonel Hogan says we are to dig in."

Kurt whistled. "I think perhaps we shall have to cancel our trip to Remagen, then."

Maria cut into the fragrant loaf while Heidi poured out cups of ersatz coffee. "We shall have to concentrate on getting through the winter," she said. "It is good that the weather stayed clear for the harvest."

Emil accepted a slice of the rich sweet bread and scraped a very thin film of butter on it. "Ja, we must give thanks for that. Kurt, you and Heidi and your workers have done well in producing as much food as you have this past summer...especially all the food that the district leader doesn't know about. It's up to us to use it wisely."

Oskar nodded. "Maria has it all rationed out between ourselves, our neighbors, the dogs, the prisoners and your workers. It will be tight, but we shall hang on." He smiled at Maria, who was blushing with pleasure at the murmurs of approval from everyone at the table.

She added, "And tonight's celebration was carefully planned for. I even sent cookies to the Luftstalag."

Oskar shook his head and chuckled. "And I was the lucky fellow who had to smuggle them in!"

The Schnitzers all chuckled too, then Heidi asked, "Do you think the war will be over by next Heiligabend, Onkel Oskar?"

Oskar patted her hand reassuringly. "I believe it will be...we must have hope, ja?"

In the dog pen, Wolfgang looked up into the sky, far above the dim lights of the compound. The moon was nearing the full phase, and the stars were twinkling against the darkness. He took a deep breath of the frosty air and sighed.

One by one the other dogs emerged from the doghouses and sat nearby, all of them gazing up at the sky as well.

Finally, Frieda remarked, "You look very serious, Wolfgang."

He glanced at her with a rueful smile. "It's been a long road, hasn't it? But I believe the end is in sight; we just need to hang on."

Bismarck stirred. "I'm almost afraid to think about the future."

"We can dream, can't we?" Frieda said. "Dream about a time of peace among humans..."

"When the Schnitzers can go about their daily business without fear of the Gestapo," added Wolfgang.

"And our flock can return to their own homes," said Hans. "To places like America, and Australia, and England..."

"I wonder what Muncie is like," said Gerhardt. "Maybe it's a bit like Hammelburg."

Sieglinde nodded. "I wonder about the place where Olsen lives...I think it's called Minnesota."

Wolfgang shook his head and was about to speak, but Sieglinde forestalled him by repeating her mother's words. "We can dream, can't we?"

"Ja, we can dream," Wolfgang said with a sigh, remembering a dream of his own.

"And hope," added Frieda softly.

"What would you like to do after the war, Bismarck?" asked Hans.

Bismarck scratched his ear as he pondered this. "Opa Schnitzer needs a good dog to look after him, and I would like to be that dog; I think the Baroness would approve. How about you, Hans?"

Hans considered the question with his customary air of solemn reflection. "Dr Schnitzer often talks of the days when he trained dogs to become guides for the blind. I think I could do that...there's probably a lot of humans out there who need that kind of help."

Frieda gave him a smile of maternal pride. "Sehr gut! Me, I'd like to spend my time at the farm, looking after things for Kurt and Heidi."

Fritzi said wistfully, "LeBeau talks of opening a restaurant in Paris after the war. Do you think he might need a good watchdog...one who can do tricks?"

"Why not?" said Frieda. "I imagine his customers would appreciate the entertainment. And you, Wolfgang...what would you like to be doing after the war?"

"I...don't know," said Wolfgang. "This camp has been my life for so long..."

Bismarck nodded, understanding what was going through his friend's mind. "You made it your mission to keep this flock safe, without thought for the future."

Wolfgang smiled a little and shrugged. "Each of these young humans makes me think of my boy Tommy; he would be about the age of the youngest of them by now. How could I not want to protect them? But we've all worked toward that goal, haven't we?"

"Ja," said Frieda. "We've kept them safe. I think we can be proud about that, no matter what the future brings."

The other dogs murmured agreement, but Bruno, who had been listening quietly, lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Oh, no..."

Wolfgang got to his feet, concerned. "What is it?"

"I think there's a prisoner on the loose inside the compound...and they're supposed to be confined to barracks after roll call."

"We spoke too soon about keeping them safe, didn't we?" said Wolfgang grimly. "I'll have to investigate."

Bruno got to his feet too, and looked at his leader appealingly. "Let me do it."

Wolfgang regarded him for a long moment, then nodded. "Fritzi, open the gate."

"Jawohl, Wolfgang." Fritzi trotted over to the gate and released the latch.

Bruno slipped through the open gate and paused to look back at the other dogs. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Wolfgang said, "Good luck, son."

In Barracks 5 after evening roll call, a young airman sat on his bunk, oblivious to his surroundings.

Jeff Duncan was in despair. The war news was bad, he hadn't received any letters from home in weeks, and today was his twenty-first birthday...it was all just too much to take. While everyone else in his barracks was having a quiet Christmas Eve celebration, he slipped out the barracks door, unnoticed.

The compound was empty of guards at the moment, and judging by the immobility of the searchlights in the watchtowers, Jeff figured that the guards up there had nodded off. He crept around the edge of the barracks in the shadows, seeking that one section of fence that had always fascinated him. It would be so easy to go through it, and get out of this place once and for all...

But not tonight. One of the guard dogs was standing there staring at him, and Jeff froze in fear.

Bruno said quietly to the prisoner, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."

The young human looked puzzled now instead of afraid, and Bruno stepped closer. "Didn't you know? On Christmas Eve, animals are given the ability to speak. Or, to be more precise, some humans are given the ability to understand. Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"I...I don't know if I can..."

Bruno sighed and walked over to the POW, close enough to nudge his hand. "I know it's been scary for you lately. But things will get better, I promise."

The POW hesitantly stroked Bruno's fur. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, honest. But when old Klink started talking today about how the Krauts have turned everything around, and how the war is lost for the Allies...I just couldn't take the thought of sticking around here anymore. I had to get out!"

"But you must hang on, you know."

"Why?"

The bleak question wrung Bruno's heart, and he said slowly, "Our friend Heidi used to read to us from a book. There was one part that she liked very much: 'And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.' "

"What do you mean?"

Bruno took a deep breath. "You must have faith that the forces of good will eventually succeed. And you must have hope that the world will be a better place when the war is over."

"And love? What could you know about love?"

"I'm a dog. Giving love is what we do." Bruno paused, looking up at him. "Maybe...maybe you had a dog once. A dog like me."

The POW snuffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I did...old Rex. He died when I was twelve...it hurt so bad. I thought I was never going to be happy again."

"But you were happy eventually, weren't you?"

"Yeah...after a while."

"Because you never forgot how much you loved him, and how much he loved you."

The young man nodded. "Yeah..."

"Isn't that worth staying safe for? So you can go home to the people you love, and who love you?"

"Yeah...Mom and Dad and the kids will be expecting me, I guess."

Bruno took hold of the prisoner's sleeve in his teeth and tugged gently. "Let's go back to the barracks now."

"Okay." The human allowed himself to be drawn into the shadows and the two edged along the building until the barracks door was reached.

Bruno watched as the POW slipped inside. "Good luck," he whispered.

Jeff managed to enter the barracks without attracting attention. Sergeant Riley was singing a wistful version of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and all of the guys were humming along as Jeff fumbled his way to his bunk and sank down on it.

Somebody handed him a cookie and he looked up. "Thanks."

He bit into the cookie; gosh, he hadn't tasted anything this good in a long time. Maybe things weren't so bad...maybe he could make it after all. And maybe he could stay busy by helping Sergeant Wilson in the infirmary or something. What had possessed him to go outside tonight, anyway? And that dog...

But it was strange...he really couldn't remember much about his encounter with the dog. Except that the dog hadn't been scary...sort of reminded him of old Rex, in a way. It would be nice to have a dog like that once he got back to the States. And someday soon, Jeff would be going home; he just knew it. All he had to do was hang on...and hope.