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What's in a Name
chapter 11
A General Inconvenience
End of July, 1940
author's note: I am not using the pilot episode as canon in this story.
To Klink's dismay, arrivals of new prisoners fell to a trickle as it appeared that Germany and its allies had achieved domination over most of Europe and a good part of Africa as well. England was the next target, and Germany began a campaign to soften up the island nation for the invasion that everyone expected. Dogfights over the channel and Great Britain were now breaking out. The British were putting up a good fight, and German fliers were being taken prisoner. Some kommandants, Klink included, followed the Geneva Convention, hoping that Britain's treatment of German prisoners would be humane.
Despite Klink's best attempts to keep some war news from the prisoners, word got out. Guards gossiped; a few even listened to banned BBC broadcasts, while the newest prisoners reported all information to Sergeant Maddock. Germany took complete control of the Channel Islands, and the Luftwaffe conducted raids on Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. The RAF bombed German military facilities in the Netherlands and German munitions factories, but this news did nothing to calm the anxiety of the British men in camp.
It took another few weeks for the next planned meeting between Oskar and a prisoner to take place. Delayed by a veterinary emergency, Oskar didn't arrive until later that afternoon. He first parked near the office and headed inside. After a few minutes, he left and reentered his van. He drove it next to the dog pen, and began his weekly routine of changing the dogs.
As planned, three prisoners, LeBeau, the coal miner, and the Norwegian engineering student, made their way slowly across the camp, hugging close to the buildings and being vigilant about watching the guards. Their practice runs paid off, as no one was near the dog pen while Oskar worked with the dogs. His training made sure of that, as the sight of a German guard elicited growls and a cacophony of barking and snarling. Most guards also found, that despite the veterinarian's stellar reputation in town, at camp, Oskar was grumpy and distracted.
Oskar checked over the dogs under his care, and switched out three that day. As he closed the doors to the back of the van, he spied the French prisoner and two other men edging nearer to his area. As they turned the corner, LeBeau exchanged a few words, pointed and then turned back towards the compound.
Curious as to why there were now two prisoners heading towards his truck, Oskar shrugged, and waited for the right moment to get them inside. Confident that the coast was clear, the doors opened, and the two men flung themselves inside the van.
This time, the dogs were beside themselves with glee, as they had not one, but two friendly men to keep them company on the ride out of camp.
As per routine, no one at the gates bothered to check the back of Oskar's van; he drove unhindered out of the camp, and went directly to the site near the mine entrance. He didn't speak to the two prisoners until he opened the back and motioned for them to exit.
"Sergeant Scott Bellows, sir." The British miner introduced himself in a thick accent. "And this is Sergeant, Demetri Foss."
"You have me at a disadvantage, gentlemen," Oskar said. "I only expected one of you."
"I'm an engineering student," Foss replied in English. "We thought I could be of use."
Oskar stroked his chin. "You are correct, but in the future, please stick to the arranged plan. We can't be too careful."
"I apologize, sir," said Bellows. "I'll let them know."
"Very good. Now let's get started, shall we? Actually, we can each take one of the dogs. I picked these three specifically." Oskar produced three harnesses, and within minutes, the two POW's and the vet were investigating the mine tunnel. The inspection was slow and controlled, as Bellows and Foss insisted on checking every inch. They carefully inspected every piece of wood used to brace up the ceilings and walls. The two airmen also got down on their hands and knees and crawled along the floor.
To their surprise, Oskar produced both the blueprints of the mine, and remarkably, blueprints of the camp he had "borrowed" from Helga that morning. He also had pieces of scrap paper available for the coal miner in case the sergeant wished to take notes or draw diagrams. The engineer was a bonus, Oskar realized, as the Norwegian skillfully sketched a scale diagram of both the camp and the tunnels, producing a legible overlay.
"See this area?" Oskar pointed his torch to the ceiling. "We believe this may be under the dog pen."
"What do the dogs think, Oskar?" asked Bellows.
"They do get a bit more energetic around this area. Watch." He let the dogs off the leashes, and the shepherds began excitedly sniffing, and making sounds. After a moment, Oskar said, "come," and the dogs obeyed. He reattached the harnesses and waited for the airmen's' opinion.
"I think your shepherds' noses know the truth. Look." Foss spread the two blueprints and his pad of paper on the table. "I believe this area here..." He grabbed a small piece of wood and used it to point to the ceiling. "Is underneath the doghouse."
"The doghouse!" exclaimed both Oskar and Bellows.
"How can you tell?" Bellows asked.
"I've been pretty bored since I've been in camp. I know it backwards and forwards. In fact, I have my own diagram of the camp back at the barracks. I didn't bring it with in case we got caught. I'm almost positive the doghouse is here." Foss grabbed the table, moved it a few feet, and hopped up. Hand me that piece of wood," he asked Bellows.
Foss took the wood and began testing the ceiling. "I think we could dig underneath here and reach the pen. All we have to do is remove the bracing," he noted.
"What good is it to reach the pen?" asked Bellows. "We can't get outside from there."
"If a prisoner can get to the dog pen," Oskar said, "he can then get to this system, and then out of the camp. But, the tunnel entrance has to be hidden. It won't do for you or Corporal LeBeau to pop up out of the ground right in the middle of the pen." He chuckled. "He'd be spotted."
"We would have to be able to get down and come up somewhere enclosed. Someplace where we could check to make sure the coast is clear before heading back to the compound or barracks."
"Wait," Bellows interrupted. "Wouldn't we use these as escape tunnels? Especially since they look pretty safe, although I'd do some bracing, string lights and add ventilation if I had my druthers."
"It will take some time to plan out escapes," said Foss. "We'd have to get cracking on making clothes out of blankets, forging documentation. This would be a good place to store items."
"That's what we hoped," Oskar said. "Now that we know the tunnel is safe, there are those of us in town who wish to use it for our own purposes."
"Radios?" Bellow asked.
Oskar shrugged. "A radio may be doable. Camera equipment as well. Getting ready for an escape attempt will take quite a while."
"We need to keep digging into the barracks," Bellows added. "But this is a good start."
"Speaking of digging," Oskar said. "I think my dogs will need to find another tunnel."
Bellows laughed. "We can arrange that, sir. I think this one will do nicely." He pointed to the camp diagram. "We haven't gotten very far."
"Leave it there, then." Oskar took the paper, folded it and put in his pocket. "I'll conduct a surprise inspection. So what do you think? We can work together, yes?"
The three shook hands.
"Um. How do we get back to camp?" asked Bellows nervously.
General Albert Burkhalter's new duties after being injured in Poland included oversight of all Luftwaffe camps in District 6, a job he once considered beneath him. But, to his relief, he discovered that this position came with perks. Kommandants normally attempted to gain his trust and favorable reports to Berlin by wining and dining the portly general whenever he visited one of the camps under his charge. The position was relatively safe. There was no combat involved and POW camps were not targets of Allied bombers. And most important, he was under the radar. Despite being on Hitler's staff, he was not high enough to be noticed. When called, he would report to Berlin, deliver his statistics, generally agree with whatever the Fuhrer said, and then go on his merry way. Yes, Burkhalter mused as he traveled to his next inspection, this duty was not that bad.
His next stop was the camp located in Hamelburg. He had appointed the Kommandant himself. Wilhelm Klink was a member of a family that traced its military service back many years. Although the Kommandant had served in the Great War, and had quite a few medals and citations to his name, Burkhalter had never heard of Klink until the oberst's name showed up on the general's desk. Several high-ranking officers recommended Klink, mentioning that kommandant of a prison camp was a position tailor-made for the veteran.
As he read through his notes, Burkhalter recalled the bureaucratic bungle that led to Klink's appearance at Berlin Headquarters. According to the report, he had attempted many times to fix the mix-up, but to no avail. This did not leave a good impression with Burkhalter. He had other things to worry about besides naming mix-ups, and felt that Klink should have dealt with the matter or shut-up.
Frankly, he thought, what difference did it make at this point? Everyone now knew that Stalag 13 was in Hammelburg, and that Luft Stalag 13 was in Hamelburg. So far, however, Klink appeared competent and reputable. There had been no escapes from the camp, and no reports of improprieties. Burkhalter settled back into the seat and decided that he would be fair, and make his own judgment about Klink.
The general left the plane with his briefcase and a valise, which then taxied away from the runway over to a maintenance facility. Surprisingly, no one was there to meet him. This made Burkhalter angry. After all, he was a general, and it was decorum and plain common sense that a car be parked next to plane, so that he didn't have to walk. Grumbling, he began walking towards the nearest building, and stepped in a large mud puddle, which splashed up onto his uniform. He stomped towards the building and swung open the door. Fortunately for the men inside, they noticed immediately that an irate general had entered their office, and they stood up and saluted in record time.
"Get me a towel, a staff car, and a driver!" Burkhalter bellowed.
"Yes, sir," stammered an enlisted man who quickly left. Within minutes, a car materialized. The driver put the valise and briefcase in the trunk, and then opened the back seat. Burkhalter, showing amazing dexterity and grace for a man his size, easily slid into the car. The driver then asked, "Where to, sir?"
"The prison camp," Burkhalter ordered.
The driver pulled out of the airport and as quickly as possible delivered the general to the gates of the prison camp located outside of town. He stopped at the gate, and after a moment, was waved through.
"Take me to the Kommandant's office." Burkhalter had closed his eyes at the beginning of the ride to ward off the headache he knew was coming. He didn't open them until the car stopped. The driver opened his door, ran to the back, removed the general's belongings, and then opened the passenger door.
Burkhalter left the vehicle, and it was at that moment that he realized he was now standing in the wrong camp.
Of course, the general would never admit that his disinterest and poor sense of direction contributed to the mistake and the unscheduled inspection of Stalag 13. He blamed the now-missing pilot and everyone else within his range. His inspection of Luft Stalag 13 now delayed, the general decided to see how the new Wehrmacht camp handled a surprise visit from a member of Hitler's staff. As expected, the camp command hid their shock, swallowed their pride, and made a formidable attempt at boot-licking. . After a decent meal (he was famished, after all), Burkhalter commandeered a staff car and another plane, and took off for his original destination. He arrived at Luft Stalag 13 at the same time Oskar was heading back towards camp to return Bellows and Foss.