What's in a Name
Chapter 12
"I Should Have Called Ahead"
Oskar Schnitzer's van crossed paths with General Burkhalter's staff car on the Hamelburg Road, several kilometers north of the camp. Burkhalter's car was violating multiple traffic regulations, as the impatient and noticeably cross general wished to get to his destination as soon as possible. During the ride, the hapless driver was forced to listen to Burkhalter grousing about the various indignities that had befallen him during his cursed inspection tour. Of course, the general neglected to mention how he couldn't be bothered to look out the window of his plane. Had he done so, he would have noticed the incorrect flight path. Admitting his own mistakes was not part of Burkhalter's vocabulary.
Drawing attention to himself was not part of Oskar's vocabulary. His van was nicely and slowly rumbling along, a wise decision considering his dangerous cargo, the two allied prisoners returning from an inspection tour of a different sort, a look at the abandoned mine entrance conveniently hidden underneath their prison. Bellows, the smaller of the two POW's, was hidden on the floor of the van, while Foss hid in the back with the dogs.
Oskar, who knew this portion of the road was free of checkpoints, noticed the black staff car coming into view, and wisely pulled off to the side of the road to let it pass.
"Someone's in a hurry," Oskar commented as he pulled back onto the road.
"What was it?" Bellows asked.
"A staff car. There's a high-ranking officer in there. We could have a problem," he said. "They're heading for the camp."
"That's not good."
"No, it's not," Oskar agreed. "They may not let me back in. Well, we have no choice, now, do we? We still have to get you home."
Bellows was nervous, but he did not wish to scare the veterinarian. "We shall have to play it by ear, as they say. Perhaps it would be safer if I got in the back with Foss?"
Oskar nodded in agreement. Bellows made the switch, and Oskar continued driving closer to the Stalag.
The guards nonchalantly opened the gates and waved Burkhalter's car straight through without checking credentials. This security lapse did not meet with the general's standards. While he never wished to be ignored, the guards should have stopped the car and asked who was calling.
"Stop," he told his driver. "You there," Burkhalter barked at the guard on duty. "Do you just wave anyone through?"
The guard, now realizing he was being spoken to by a general, the first to show up at this small misnamed backwater camp, stumbled and stammered. "I'm sorry, we just..."
"Never mind your excuses. Watch who you let in."
"Should I announce you, sir?"
Burkhalter didn't answer as he told his driver to continue on.
Corporal Langenscheidt was standing in the shelter next to the gate. He recognized the general from photos he had seen in Helga's office, and had the presence of mind to contact the secretary.
"Yes?" Helga picked up the phone on Klink's desk. Her face paled. "Kommandant," she squeaked out.
"What is it?" Seeing the look on Helga's face, Klink slammed the door to his safe shut, and hurried over.
"A general is in the compound. General Burkhalter."
Klink almost dropped his monocle. "I knew he would be coming here, eventually. But not this soon." He briefly wondered if his complaints about the naming fiasco had prompted the quick visit.
Helga hurried to the window. "His car is here." She observed the general, who looked angry. Without checking with the Kommandant, Helga left the office and quickly sat at her desk.
Klink closed his door, and sat down at his desk. He kept himself busy by straightening his files in numerous ways.
Burkhalter stomped up the steps and opened the door, ready to take his bad day out on the Kommandant in charge of the misnamed camp. His first sight, as he entered, was the pretty, young, blond, fraulein seated at the desk.
She rose, and he stood transfixed and suddenly mute.
"General Burkhalter, I'm Helga, Kommandant Klink's secretary. We are so pleased to have you in camp. He's expecting you. Right this way." Helga opened the door to Klink's office. "Kommandant. General Burkhalter to see you. General, may I get you a beverage?"
Burkhalter, his eyes still on Helga, had not yet acknowledged Klink. "Hot tea, please." he answered.
"Right away. Kommandant?"
"The same," Klink said.
"I'll be right back." Helga closed the door.
It never occurred to Burkhalter to wonder why a young female civilian was working at a prisoner of war camp.
Klink, clearly nervous, fawned over his visitor. "General, please sit down."
"Thank you, Kink."
"Klink, sir."
"Yes, I know your name. I assigned you." Burkhalter glanced around the office. It was modest, he noticed approvingly. Hitler's picture was hung on the wall in an appropriate noticeable place. A map of Germany and a camp diagram took up space on the wall behind Klink's desk. The desk was tidy, a pickelhaube and a humidor lending a personal touch. On the far side, sat a long bookcase. A phonograph was on top. The general spied a violin case nestled along the wall in between the shelf and a door, which he assumed led to a powder room. The regulatory safe was next to the wall opposite the desk, and a sideboard took up space on the furthest wall. A decanter set sat in the middle.
"Your gate security is lacking. They waved my car through without a second thought."
"I apologize, General. You see, we don't get many visitors. It won't happen again."
Burkhalter leaned forward. "No it won't. Because the next time I come, they will allow my car through, no questions asked."
Klink leaned back in his chair. "That's correct, General."
"Stop agreeing with everything I say."
"Stop agreeing," Klink parroted back. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize."
Klink wisely kept his mouth shut.
"They will allow me through, but not anyone else."
"They will double-check and ask questions?"
"Why are you asking me? This is your camp."
"No, they will double-check. I'll make a note of that." Klink grabbed a pad and jotted down a few words. A small tap on the door interrupted Klink's panic. "Come in."
Burkhalter's mood changed. He smiled at Helga who was holding a tray. She placed it on the desk. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, General. Kommandant."
"Thank you, Helga." Klink gave her a look reminiscent of a frightened rabbit.
She left the office, steadied herself by the filing cabinet and took a deep breath. The Kommandant obviously thought her nerves were due to the general's appearance. However, Helga knew two men were missing from camp and she had no idea if Oskar would be allowed back in. And if not, how would Bellows and Fink be returned? And what if the general demanded a roll call? She sat down at her desk and tried not to panic.
Oskar slowly rolled up to the gate. To his surprise, the gates didn't automatically open.
"Halt!" The private on duty held out his hand.
Langenscheidt left his shelter and hurried over. "Krauss. Normally, protocol says that you yell halt before the vehicle stops at the gate." He shook his head. Since he had arrived at this Luft Stalag, he quickly realized that the guards were not the brightest bulbs in the box. The secretary had confided in him that Klink had to recruit from the bottom of the barrel, as assigned guards had been erroneously sent to the other camp.
Although, he admitted, he had no right to complain. Karl was not cut out to be a soldier. He was extremely book smart, but militarily, he knew he should have been drummed out of the army before he hurt himself, or anyone else, for that matter. Of course, in Hitler's Germany, that was not an option, and he kept quiet. He was eternally grateful for being tapped to work with prisoners, and even more so for the mistake that sent him to this particular camp.
"Why are you here, Dr. Schnitzer?" he asked politely. "Your duties for today have been completed."
Having already used the excuse of forgetting something, Oskar had come up with another plan. "Corporal?"
"Langenscheidt, sir."
"Something wrong?"
"Security has been increased." Only a moment ago, Langenscheidt had received an irate phone call from Klink.
"Does this have anything to do with the staff car that was speeding down the Hamelburg road?" Oskar asked.
"Yes, sir," Langenscheidt replied without thinking. "A general is visiting."
"Well that is great timing. I have returned because I will be conducting a surprise inspection. I will be looking for tunnels with my dog. The prisoners will never expect this, since I was already in today."
"I'll call." Langenscheidt stepped aside to contact the Kommandanteur, when Krauss tapped the corporal on the shoulder.
"What is it?" Langenscheidt turned.
The private pointed. Langenscheidt dropped the phone, leaving it dangling from the cord, as with dismay, he and Krauss watched the Kommandant and the general approach.
"Of course, General Burkhalter," Klink said in a sing-song voice. "We've had no escapes."
"So you've told me. Over and over," Burkhalter grumbled. "I would hope not. You haven't been open very long. Get on with it. I'd like to see the rest of the camp before dinner, and then inspect the prisoners."
Well, General, that's true, but Stalag 4 has lost a few Frenchmen already. Mine are all here! Ah, Langenscheidt. Come here."
Langenscheidt clumsily hung up the phone. He stepped forward and proceeded to where the Kommandant and the general stood, right inside the compound next to the main gate.
The corporal saluted; one military action he had mastered.
"General, this is Corporal Langenscheidt, a member of our guard, and our official translator."
The general gave the corporal a passing glance. "What is that truck doing here?"
"Schnitzer?" Klink approached the gate. "That is our dog handler, General. He's very good, and reasonably priced. Langenscheidt. Why didn't you let him through?"
"Your orders, sir."
"Ah, that's correct."
"He wishes to conduct a tunnel search," Langenscheidt said.
"Why is the dog handler checking for tunnels, Klink?" asked Burkhalter.
"Our ferrets never showed up. They were sent to Stalag 13. But he has trained his dogs to sniff for tunnels."
"Let him through, Corporal," Burkhalter ordered. "I'd like to see this."
Krauss opened the gates and waved Oskar into the camp. The veterinarian stopped his van, and Klink approached the driver's window. "I know I was here today, Kommandant, but this inspection will catch the prisoners off-guard."
"Yes. Brilliant. Proceed."
Oskar drove over to the dog pen, maneuvering the van so the back was several feet in front of the gate. "May I suggest that you and the general stay clear. I have three dogs in the back that I need to put back in the pen, so they don't overheat. Then I will retrieve the dog I trained."
By now, Helga couldn't stand the tension, and she decided to step out onto the porch of the office to see what was happening in the compound.
Please God, let this work, Oskar prayed as he went around to the back.
Meanwhile, the two prisoners trapped in the back of the van with the dogs were in the dark as to what was happening. They knew they had rolled into camp, and were ready to make their move as soon as they were presented with the opportunity. But most important, they were not willing to sacrifice the civilian veterinarian, and so they were trying to come up with a plausible explanation as to why they were in the back of the van. So far, neither could come up with an excuse, especially since instead of being attacked, they were, instead, enjoying a nice cuddle with the three friendly guard dogs.
Oskar wished there was a tunnel entrance inside the dog compound, for it may have been possible that the two prisoners could have gone inside with the dogs and quickly disappeared into the ground until it was safe to come back up.
He un-latched the back of the van, and opened the doors just wide enough to coax the three dogs out. Oskar held his hand up to warn the two men inside that it was not safe to make a move. One by one, he led the dogs into the pen, and he then closed the doors, keeping them un-latched and slightly ajar, not enough that a guard would notice, but just enough that Foss and Bellows could hear and see a bit of daylight. It was up to them now. Oskar went inside the pen, and removed Freidrich. Without a word, he began walking around the compound, leading the two officers to the other side, out of sight of the van and the dog-pen. To his relief, the not so professional guards, including Schultz, ignored the pen and followed.
This was all observed by the prisoners, who moments ago had heard the words prisoner inspection, and feared for their missing compatriots. Now that the general was distracted, they waited for the two men to make their move.
Foss and Bellows slowly left the back of the van and rolled underneath the vehicle. On their stomachs, they crawled a bit forward and waited for the right time to make a move.
With perfect timing, a football got loose from a group of men, several of whom chased it over to the van.
"Get away from the dog-pen!" Yelled a guard who was watching the game. He raised his rifle.
"Just getting the ball!" Newkirk yelled back. He raised his hands and the rest of the men did the same. The guard lowered his rifle, and the five men who ran after the ball were now seven, as Foss and Bellows joined the group, safely making their way away from the van and into the center of the camp compound. No handshakes or back slaps were given; that would be later when everyone was safe. But the prisoners, the vet and the secretary all breathed a sigh of relief.
Helga went back inside and helped herself to a glass of the Kommandant's schnapps to calm her nerves.
Oskar, now seeing his cargo had been safely returned, led the dog away from the delousing station and over to the area where he would find a tunnel. Sure enough, after a few moments of sniffing and wagging, the dog sat. Guards came running over with shovels, and after a minute of digging, a small tunnel was discovered.
"You see, General, they can't get anything past us here at Stalag 13."
"It seems so, Klink. Dr. Schnitzer, I'm impressed."
The vet shrugged. "All in a day's pay. If you will excuse me, I have to get those three shepherds home."
Burkhalter nodded. "Klink, this man is an asset to you and this camp. I shall have to report this to Berlin. Perhaps we can make use of this technique at other camps."
"Just as long as I get to keep my handler, General. He is the local veterinarian in town and is well-regarded by the civilians in the area. Not the friendliest man, but very competent," Klink explained as his ego began to rise.
"The Third Reich is not interested in friendliness, Klink. Competence is more important." Burkhalter turned and began walking back towards the office.
"Do you wish to inspect the prisoners now, General? I can order a roll call."
"No, Klink. I'm tired. I will stay in your VIP quarters. Have a meal sent over."
Klink swallowed. "We don't have VIP quarters."
Burkhalter turned. "That's right; you said you have not received many visitors. I'll stay in your quarters. And see to it that VIP quarters are built. I expect to be in this area frequently. Your camp is centrally located."
"Yes, sir."
"Schuuultz!" Klink called for the sergeant who was following along. "General Burkhalter will be using my quarters. Change the sheets, and remove my night-clothes. You know what I need. And take them to your quarters. I'll sleep there. You'll bunk with the guards."
As a grumbling Schultz left to fulfill Klink's orders, the Kommandant and the general followed.
"General Burkhalter, after you, sir." Klink gallantly opened the door and stepped aside so that his guest could enter first. The door to his bedroom was open, and he could see Schultz working inside. "It's modest, but comfortable."
"Yes, I can see that." Burkhalter glanced at the living area. He headed over to the couch and took a seat.
Klink picked up the phone and ordered the general's dinner to be delivered. He waited for an invitation to join the general for the meal, but it was not forthcoming.
Schultz, carrying a small valise, left the bedroom. "Everything is ready for you, General Burkhalter," the sergeant stated.
"Thank you. I will finish the inspection tomorrow morning, Klink. O530. Turn on the radio before you leave."
Klink walked over to the approved radio, and flipped a switch. Soon, the sounds of Wagner filled the room.
"I guess I'll be eating in the officer's mess," Klink unhappily told Schultz as they walked across the compound.
"I'm sure it's better than the enlisted mess, Kommandant."
Klink grunted.
"Do you think this general will be able to help straighten out our bigger mess?" Schultz asked. Seeing Klink's blank look, he quickly added, "The naming kerfuffle."
"I'll speak to him about tomorrow. Hopefully, he'll be in an agreeable mood," Klink replied. He was a bit apprehensive, but told himself the visit could have gone worse. The dog handler, whom he hired, made a good impression on the general, as did Helga. Klink knew his camp was well-run, the prisoners were compliant, and his books were in order. Now feeling a tad better, Klink decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, and instead, he looked forward to the following morning.