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"What's in a Name"

Chapter 15

"This Could be the Start of Something Big."

Newkirk had arrived in camp with a larger group of prisoners who had been processed in the compound. There was no meeting with the Kommandant in the office, no lecture, and no interrogation. So tonight, Newkirk was about to make his first trip into forbidden territory. It was a fairly simple procedure to leave the barracks, avoid the guards and searchlights, and reach the Kommandantur. Once there, the corporal hugged the outside wall and waited for the guards patrolling the exterior to leave. He had a small window of time to break into the building and enter the interior. Once inside, he checked that the blackout curtains were closed, then lit a lantern and placed it on Helga's desk. There was no sign of the transfer orders there, so he headed into Klink's office.

As Newkirk's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted the safe by the wall and grinned. "You're next." He headed over to the desk where he found a large envelope marked courier. He opened it, found what he was looking for, and put the transfer orders in his pocket. Thankfully, there was no need to replace the missing paper, as there were other papers inside. Curious, Newkirk decided to see what the Kommandant was up to. Most of the paperwork was mundane, but one form caught his eye. "Now that could be useful." Quickly, Newkirk rifled through the stacks of forms on Klink's desk. He picked up several and took them as well. Realizing he had spent enough time in the office and was tempting fate, he decided it would be prudent to leave. Breaking into the safe would have to wait for another night.

Newkirk gleefully regaled the men back at the hut with his tale of adventure, including how easy it was to break into the Kommandant's office unnoticed. "Fortunately, the blackout curtains were already shut," he told them.

"We couldn't see any light coming from there," Maddock assured him.

"Well, not only did I get your transfer orders," Newkirk said, "but I also discovered a few other useful items. Klink won't miss these. There were plenty of them all around the office. Blank requisition forms, transfer forms, and letterhead. Of course with the incorrect Stalag number on there."

Everyone laughed.

"Seems the wrong Stalag number has been awfully lucky for you folks," Marceau noted.

"Maybe we can order better food," Deschamps said hopefully.

"Or better supplies. I'd cook the food here. It would be delicious," LeBeau added.

"On this stove?" asked Maddock.

"Of course. All I need is one pot and a decent paring knife," LeBeau explained. "I was a chef before the war," he told Marceau.

"Good skill," the captain said. "You know, the forms are useful, but you need to be able to forge Klink's signature."

"Not a problem, sir," Maddock said. "We already have that skill down." Oskar had given Maddock a sample of the Kommandant's signature, and several of the prisoners had practiced the forgery until it was perfect. "Should come in handy when we start making plans for our escapes."

"How about a typewriter?" Marceau continued.

Maddock nodded. "Um, that is one thing we're missing. Maybe we should requisition one." He rubbed his chin. "Except that we will need to type the requisition form to requisition the typewriter we need to type the forms."

Now that the tunnel entrance beneath the dog house was completed, work on the tunnel moved at a quicker pace. Every piece of spare wood, some of it stolen from the work on the new VIP headquarters, was taken down there, as wood was needed to shore up the walls and ceiling. Although the dog house entrance worked, it was still dangerous, so a branch leading from the main tunnel to Barracks two was started. Prisoners only went down at night to dig, so completion was expected to take quite some time.

Meanwhile, supplies continued to appear. Along with the fabric and uniforms, the underground brought over rations, photography and electrical equipment, paper, whatever weapons they could find, and finally, a small typewriter donated by Helga. Anything that could be used for a future mass breakout was brought over.

The prisoners and their allies were concerned with one prisoner. Eventually, Klink and the other Stalag 13 would realize that Captain Marceau was still in residence. By now, a week after Newkirk had stolen the transfer orders, Marceau had been fully briefed on what was hidden underneath camp, and the help provided by the dog handler and his friends.

He and several other prisoners were in the tunnel discussing future escape plans, and ways to get Marceau safely out of the camp without risking the lives of the other prisoners. The British captain, who initially thought upon inspection of his temporary home, that he would be able to successfully escape the enlisted men's camp and make his way back to England, wondered if he should follow his own advice. He had told the prisoners that escaping was a difficult and dangerous procedure, and that the chances of success had to be high. Taking unnecessary risks, he feared, would endanger the other prisoners and their civilian allies. However, the other prisoners were enthusiastic, and willing to brainstorm. He decided to hear them out.

Sergeant Maddock was seated at the main table, the pencil in his hand moving up and down between his thumb and index finger as he looked closely at the maps laid out in front of him. The low light bothered his eyes, and he rubbed them and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ward off the headache he knew was coming. Marceau and Maddock had dismissed the workers a short time ago, figuring the less other prisoners knew, the safer they would be.

Newkirk and LeBeau were working as best as they could on sewing civilian suits with the material given to them by the underground cell. Not only was the material better than the blankets they were planning on using, but as Oskar told them, it was important to keep any blankets in the hut, as the barracks would probably be very cold in the winter.

This suit looks like it would fit you, Captain." LeBeau brought over a pair of slacks he had repaired.

"Thanks, LeBeau." Marceau smiled.

Maddock looked up. "You know, sir. There's a blind spot over by tower 4. It would be simple to cut the wire. We've got the tools. We are willing to deal with the consequences if you want to slip out. At this point, I don't have any other ideas." Marceau had already turned down the idea of using the tunnel. If he was caught, it would be safer and less suspicious if the Germans would discover the cut wire.

Marceau took a deep breath. "It may be the only option," he said softly. "God, Switzerland is a long way. I still think France is a safer bet. It's closer."

"Your choice, sir. You have the maps and a compass," Maddock noted.

"But no papers."

"Find me a French collaborator, and I'll get their papers." LeBeau sniffed in indignation, as he hung the suit meant for Marceau up on the rack next to the German uniforms.

"And how are we going to do that, Louis?" Newkirk asked.

LeBeau shrugged. "Maybe go into town and steal them."

Maddock stood up. "That's crazy. No one is going into town!"

"What's the worst that could happen?" Newkirk asked. "I would just say I'm an escaped prisoner, and I'd be brought back to camp. Like the captain, here."

"You volunteering?" LeBeau poked Newkirk.

"I speak the best German," Newkirk replied. Holding the sleeve of the shirt he was working on, Newkirk snipped the thread and held it up. "Done. Nice job if I do say so me-self."

"It's too bad we can't forge transfer orders sending the captain someplace besides the other camp," LeBeau said as he grabbed another piece of material to work on.

"That would be simple, but I doubt the Jerries would follow that order," Marceau noted.

Newkirk pulled a Wehrmacht jacket off the rack and slipped it on. "I have orders to pick up Captain Marceau and drive him to Switzerland," he said in German.

"Come again?" Maddock asked.

"I said. I have orders to pick up Captain Marceau and drive him…" Newkirk paused. "We have the transfer orders to Hammelburg."

Maddock stared for a moment. "I think I see where you're going, Newkirk. What if his ride comes through? But somehow, we provide the ride."

Maddock's epiphany stirred up the prisoners and they sprung into action the very next morning. There were several problems. The first one was getting a vehicle. The second one was deciding who would impersonate the German soldiers. The prisoners feared one of their men risked being recognized. Theu realized the key was the underground cell. Would they be willing to don the uniforms, drive into camp, pretend to be soldiers, and drive out with Captain Marceau? It was a dangerous move, more dangerous than anything they had previously accomplished. If the resistance cell succeeded, they would have to hide the captain until they could figure out how to smuggle him out of the area.

The prisoners and Schnitzer had developed a set of signals. A certain piece of laundry would let the vet know that an urgent meeting was needed, and a prisoner would sneak into the van. A cap worn by the vet would mean the same thing. Communication was frustrating, as it was not instant, and it had to rely on Schnitzer's schedule, or the occasional visit by Otto, who sometimes showed up with fresh produce.

However, the plotters considered this dilemma urgent, so Maddock headed over to the Kommandant's office. He slipped Helga a note and then waited to be seen.

"I have a simple request, Kommandant." Maddock stood ramrod straight in front of Klink's desk. Maddock understood that more than anything, the Kommandant wanted respect. Of course, as an enlisted prisoner, Maddock already showed deference to the superior officer. But, he was quite accomplished at laying it on thick when necessary. As he quipped to the men in his barracks, "it's easier to catch flies with honey."

Klink looked up and cupped his hands. "Simple? That's unusual. What do you consider simple, Sergeant?"

"We would like your permission to have a going away party for Captain Marceau, sir. Tomorrow night."

"Nothing else?" Klink asked.

"No, sir."

Klink nodded. "I don't see the harm, if he is still here, that is. But it's restricted to your barracks, and must not go past lights out."

"Understood, sir. Thank you." Marceau saluted and saw himself out.

"Fraulein," he said to Helga.

That night, the prisoners went down into the tunnel, and as they had hoped, Schnitzer, Otto and Hercules were waiting for them.

"What is so urgent?" asked Otto.

"We have an idea of how to save Captain Marceau, but we need your help." Maddock explained the urgency and the plan, and waited for the reaction.

The three Germans stood silent for several moments.

Finally, it was Schnitzer who uttered the first words. "Are you insane?"

"I think so," was Marceau's reply. The captain stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back. "I told them that myself. I should probably wait for the transfer to go through, and try and get away before we get too far into Germany."

"That's even harder," Hercules commented. He grabbed a chair, sat down, and leaned back. "Without papers, you won't get very far, even if you say you're a French worker. I'll do it." Hercules stood up. "I'll wear one of these uniforms, drive into camp and drive out with the captain. I can get a friend to drive in with me. We hide the captain, and then try and get fake papers made up. I'm sure we can find a French collaborator working around here. We can steal their set."

"This is insane," Schnitzer repeated. "And now you're planning on robbing a civilian?"

"More insane than this tunnel underneath a prison camp?" Otto asked. "Look at all this stuff. Guns, cameras, uniforms. If we get caught, we're all dead or worse. Look at what you've done, Oskar. What if they discover the dogs aren't vicious killers? Or if your tunnel searching work is a scam? I'm with Hercules. It's worth a chance. And we have to start eventually forging papers, or helping these men with that task. They'll need them for the escapes. I say, we try."

"I appreciate it, gentlemen, but I won't put you at risk," Marceau stated.

"It's my choice," Hercules answered. "I'm working second shift tomorrow, so I can come for the captain in the morning." Otto nodded in agreement.

Marceau stood up and began pacing around the tunnel. The others waited patiently for the British captain to come to a decision. Finally, he stopped his pacing and addressed everyone in the tunnel. "In that case, I'm willing to give it a whirl. If it works, think of the stories I can tell my children. One other thing. I promise, if I get back to England, I'll make contact with the authorities and let them know we have allies here, and that you need help. Hopefully, they can get you in contact with the French resistance. But only if you wish. If you want to remain on your own, I'll respect your decision."

"Yes," Oskar said. "We've discussed this as well. Different cells don't trust one another, and I imagine it may be the same in France. We're made up of Germans who love our country and despise Hitler and what has happened. We never wanted war. Hercules knows some communists, and also a few Jews who are also involved in resisting the regime. Any help...especially communications equipment and training, would be useful."

Marceau nodded. "Of course, I will see what I can do."

Oskar shrugged. "Well, if you are in, I'm in. But where do we get a vehicle?"

This was a conundrum, and the men spent quite some time mulling over the possibilities. Stealing a military car or truck was the obvious but most dangerous option.

Newkirk, who badly needed a cigarette, was pacing back and forth. "It's a shame," he said as he stopped by the uniform rack. "We've got cars and trucks sitting unused in the motor pool."

"How do we get the motor pool to give us a car?" Marceau asked.

"Simple," Newkirk answered. "Their car broke down. They are only taking you to Dusseldorf to meet up with another transport, and Hercules promises to bring the car back after we send you off. But will Klink cooperate?"

Maddock shook his head. "I don't know. What if he calls and asks to speak with their commanding officer to verify their identity? What if he says they can't have the car? What if he sends one of his guards with them?"

Oskar put his hand on the sergeant's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "You're doubting yourself, son. In the short time I've known you and these men, the words, what if...they haven't been in your vocabulary."

"Using the motor pool is too risky, and it won't be necessary," Hercules said quietly. "I can get a car or a truck. It's simple. I'll hot wire one. There are always men drinking and eating at the Hofbrau. In fact, they are probably still there. I can try and steal one tonight, hide it, and then use it tomorrow to take out the captain. Bring him right back here, drop him off and then leave the car on the side of the road somewhere. I can make it look like a couple of joy riders went for a ride."

"That seems as risky as using something from the motor pool," LeBeau stated. 'What if they start an investigation, and get the Gestapo involved?"

Hercules stood up and stretched. "Let's just say, I've had practice. Don't ask questions. Wasn't that part of our agreement when I joined up with you?"

Maddock smiled. "What if we just go ahead and hope for the best? Captain, I'm afraid your going away party has just been canceled."

A/N: There are some very educational postings by our European authors on the thread I started on the forums. I started by asking about radio issues, and it morphed into a discussion about how the resistance units formed and operated. It's under XIIIc. Radio and resistance. Also, I didn't believe these early heroes could acquire a vehicle from the motor pool this early in the game. My thoughts were confirmed by some other authors...thanks for your help and assistance. Goldleaf, Sgt. Hakeswill, and the entire PBA committee.