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What's in a Name
chapter 19
Pardon Me Boy, Is This the Hammelburg Station?
A civilian carrying a small suitcase and a large briefcase disembarked the first class car on the late afternoon train arriving from the east. He pushed his way through the crowd and gazed up and down the platform. It was obvious to anyone that he was looking for someone. Confused, he headed towards the waiting area, but his way was blocked by an overeager porter.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Yes, this is Hammelburg, isn't it?"
The porter at the small station looked up at the sign, which was noticeable to anyone with working eyesight. The man asking the question was slight and well-dressed. He wore a fashionable lightweight overcoat and an expensive looking hat. Sensing a large tip was a possibility, the porter politely replied, "Yes, sir. This is Hamelburg. May I help you with your things?"
"Someone from the camp was supposed to meet me here." The man gazed out at the crowd. There was no one standing there holding a sign that said Herr Hauptmann.
"The prison camp, sir?" the porter asked. "That's not far. There is a motor bus that can take you. But you would most likely prefer a taxi. Shall I call one for you?"
"Yes. Do that." Hauptmann was annoyed, but he remembered to tip the porter before taking a seat in the back of the taxi that arrived at the station a few moments later.
"Where to, sir?" asked the elderly driver.
"Prison camp."
"Ah, that's not far. Is this your first trip to Hamelburg? I work for one of the premier hotels. The Hauserhof. Will you need a room after your visit?"
"No. I'm staying at the camp," Hauptmann replied curtly. "Is everyone in Hamelburg this talkative?" he grumbled.
"We're a friendly village," replied the driver who wondered if his fare got off on the wrong side of bed that morning. It couldn't have been the train ride that put the man in a bad mood. German trains were always on time before the war, and were still very reliable.
The car pulled up at the gates of the camp several minutes later.
"This can't be Stalag 13," Hauptmann complained as soon as he peered out of the window and got his first glance at the compound. "I was under the impression the facility was quite large. I have a scheduled meeting with the Kommandant and his staff, and I was supposed to have been met at the station by camp personnel." He handed the guard his orders and an ID.
The guard at the gatehouse looked at his clipboard. "I'm very sorry, sir. I don't have you down as an expected visitor." Seeing the look on the man's face, the guard added, "But, please go in. The Kommandantur is across the compound. You can't miss it." As the car drove in, the guard quickly rang the office. "Fraulein, a warning. A Herr Hauptmann is on his way, and he is not in a good mood. Said he had a scheduled appointment and that someone was supposed to meet him at the station."
Helga gulped. "Oh no, another mix-up. Thank you for the warning." She strode to the Kommandant's door and knocked.
Klink had his feet up on his desk, and was taking a short ten minute break before going back to work. He sat up and plopped in his monocle.
"Yes?"
"Kommandant, there is a man on his way in. Herr Hauptmann. Were you expecting him?"
"No," Klink answered. "From where?"
"I don't know, but I think he was supposed to go elsewhere. He said he had an appointment and..." Helga was interrupted by the obviously angry civilian.
"Jurgen Hauptmann. I was supposed to be met at the station by a staff car. Did you forget my appointment?" He stared at Klink for a moment. "This is not Stalag 13 is it? But they said at the station..."
"Herr Hauptmann, have a seat. Helga please get our visitor a beverage. I'm Kommandant Klink at your service, sir. May I see your orders?"
Hauptmann's eyes followed the secretary as she walked over to the highboy and set up a tray. "Here." He passed over the paperwork to Klink, and then sat down in the chair directly facing the desk.
Klink quickly perused the paperwork in front of him. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid there has been an error. Your train ticket was booked to Hamelburg, with one m, not the other Hammelburg with 2 m's. You see, there are two Stalag 13's. This has happened before. We can drive you back to town. There are several fine hotels..."
"I'll do nothing of the sort, Klink." Hauptmann paused as Helga handed him his drink, and he watched approvingly as she left the office. "Stay in a hotel in what looks to be a mere village? No. I'm traveling on the express orders of Minister Speer."
Klink choked on his drink. "Minister Speer?" he sputtered.
"Yes." Hauptmann reached for his briefcase and removed some more paperwork. "I might as well show you."
Klink read another set of orders. This paperwork designated Hauptmann as an emissary of the Ministry of Armaments and War, but it did not note the reason he was visiting a prison camp.
"I can put you up in our new VIP headquarters, sir."
"Who's in charge of this sector? And why do you have the same number as the other camp? That is awfully irresponsible." Hauptmann rose from his seat and walked over to the map on the wall. He peered very closely, and then finally found the spot. "I am way out of the way," he stated.
"Yes, that is why I suggested you stay overnight. General Burkhalter is in charge of this sector, sir."
Hauptmann stroked his chin and paced around the room for several moments. "Well, why waste a trip. Is he in the area?"
"I don't know, sir. He has an office in our village," Klink said. "Shall I try and contact him for you?"
"Why not?"
Klink picked up the phone on his desk. "Helga, please get General Burkhalter on the line."
Helga walked back to her desk and jotted down the visitor's name on a note pad. The name did not ring a bell, but the mention of Minister Speer sent chills up and down her spine. As she attempted to reach an aide in Burkhalter's local office, she made a mental note to let someone in the Underground know that a colleague of Speer was in the area. The minister and his department was never mentioned in her family's home. Many good and useful businesses had been taken over and reconfigured for military purposes. Schultz's toy factory, for example was now making weapons, and her father also worked in a military plant. These complexes were now targets for Allied bombs.
"Hello?" she asked as someone finally came on the line. "Kommandant Klink calling for the general. It's urgent. We have a colleague of Minister Speer here. What? Yes, I'll hold." Helga drummed her fingers on the desk impatiently as she waited.
"So, Klink." Hauptmann took another swig of Klink's brandy. "Then the Wehrmacht officer said, if it's Tuesday, it must be Belgium!" He guffawed at his own joke, and Klink joined in, mainly to be polite, as he didn't find the joke at all funny.
"Let me see what's taking Helga so long."
"I'll come with you." Hauptmann unsteadily rose from his chair, but stopped as the door opened.
Helga entered and began to read from her shorthand pad. "Kommandant. The general is not in the area, but his aide did speak with him and relayed the conversation to me. The general said to give Herr Hauptmann every courtesy and to cooperate with him. General Burkhalter is delighted that Minister Speer's emissary is here at our stalag, and that there is no reason to assume that we cannot provide the same service as the other Stalag 13. Will there be anything else, sir?"
"Thank you, Helga. You may go," Klink said.
Helga left the office, closing the door behind her. There was no need to eavesdrop. The Kommandant usually kept her updated on everything, and there was no reason to suspect that this instance would be different.
"Ah, splendid." Hauptmann clapped his hands. "Well then, this trip shan't be wasted. Klink, I will tell you why I'm here, even though I was supposed to be there. Never mind. Do you know that there are multiple towns in Germany with the same name? Not just two Hamelburgs. But I believe this must be the first instance of two identical stalags in two identical towns."
"Well, we are a Luft Stalag and they are not. And we are supposed to be Stalag 6, but all efforts to fix things have been stymied." Actually, Klink had neglected the issue for some time, but he supposed if things were quiet, he could reevaluate the situation. Meanwhile, he was relieved that the mood of Minister Speer's representative had improved.
"Oh. That does make a bit of a difference I suppose. You shall have to fill me in further about the details and how this mistake happened." Hauptmann reached into his briefcase and retrieved another sheet of paper. "These are actual signed orders detailing my mission. I am going around to various camps, and actually from what I've seen, this camp may be ideal. I think a smaller location might work better. Less prisoners walking about. The prisoners are easier to control, etc."
"Better for what?" Klink asked, thinking he didn't like where this was going. "Is the minister planning on taking over this camp to build weapons?"
"Oh, heavens, no. But you are on the right track. What's one advantage a prison camp has over other areas?"
Klink shook his head. "Prisoners? I'm not sure. No fighting, of course. Not that we need to worry about that here, do we?"
"Again, you are on the right track. It's a safe location. The Allies won't bomb prison camps for fear that they will kill their own men. So, what better place than to hold meetings of high-level personnel, and most importantly...and this was my idea, hide or test new weapons!" Hauptmann leaned back in his chair, flush with his own importance.
Klink was appalled. "But that's against the Geneva Convention. The weapons I mean. The meetings, probably not."
"Well, from what I know, Burkhalter has the ear of the Fuhrer, does he not?"
Klink glumly nodded. "Yes, he's not that close, but close enough, I suppose."
"Probably safer that way," Hauptmann said, chuckling. "Who cares about the Geneva Convention? Within a year, it will be torn up anyway. Besides, the general asked for your cooperation. This will bring prestige and more visitors to your little camp, Klink. I'm happy for you, and your staff." His eyes turned to the door. "If the rest of your staff is as efficient as your secretary, well...then this is the perfect place to start this program."
"Perfect place," Klink repeated. "Well, my staff is good. We've had no successful escapes, you know."
"Splendid." Hauptmann reached for his glass, which he found, to his dismay, was empty. "Oh," he mumbled. "Those orders are top-secret. They should go right in your safe."
Klink grabbed the sheet of paper, folded it, stuck it in an envelope and walked over to the safe. He dialed the combination and threw the sheet inside. The door closed with a loud clang.
Helga heard the faint clang of the safe. She stood up as the door opened. "Kommandant, is there anything else I can do for you and our guest?"
The guest smiled at the secretary. She smiled back as she wondered what was put in the safe.
"No." Klink looked at his watch. "I'm done for the day. We'll be taking a tour of the camp, and then I'll be escorting Herr Hauptmann to the VIP hut. You can shut down the office."
"Very good, Kommandant. Have a good weekend." Helga straightened up her area, then entered Klink's office. She tidied up the desk, and cleaned the dirty glassware. Realizing that there was a possibility she would not be privy to what was discussed, Helga glanced at the safe. She didn't know the combination...Klink was the only person inside the camp that had that information. However, Helga knew someone in the camp who would be able to get inside the safe.
The camp's resident safe cracker, Peter Newkirk, was busy contemplating how to get out of the camp in case of emergency. Now that the tunnel entrance was blocked, the Underground cell was busy preparing a new emergency exit, but the work on the tree stump they found was taking quite a while. The stump was close to the perimeter, and the men digging it out had to duck frequently to avoid the searchlights. Meanwhile, in order to reach the stump, a new branch leading off the main tunnel had to be cleared. The timing on completion was uncertain, but it was sure to take a while.
The Cockney corporal, along with several of his mates, hiked around the compound taking another look at the perimeter. The prisoners were planning to jury-rig the fence for use as a temporary exit. He spied Klink and Hauptmann walking towards them. "Allo, allo. what's this?"
"A Boche bigwig." LeBeau sniffed.
"Where'd you learn that word, Louis?"
"From you English," the Frenchman replied.
The prisoners stood at attention as Klink and Hauptmann passed.
"As you can see, sir, we have guard towers placed at standard intervals. Two sets of fences surrounding the perimeter. And our prisoners have been tamed." Klink continued to prattle on as they moved to another section of the camp.
"Here that, Louis. We've been tamed." Newkirk patted LeBeau's head.
LeBeau laughed and let out a quiet roar. "What are you doing?" he then asked one of the other men accompanying him.
Corporal Claude Mercier was down on his hands and knees, drawing angles in the dirt with a stick. A mathematics teacher before the war, the corporal had volunteered to help locate the safest spot in the fence to use as an exit. His idea was that by estimating the distances and sight lines of the towers, there might be one area that was not completely covered by the spotlights. He had already completed some preliminary work, and this would be his final walk-through. He replied to LeBeau in French.
"Angles," LeBeau stated. The other men quieted down and watched patiently. Mercier took out a pencil and a piece of paper, and while the group crowded around him, so that the guards wouldn't be suspicious, he jotted down some notes. He then wiped the dirt until the drawings disappeared. Standing up, he nodded and motioned for the men to follow him. The group then headed for Barracks two, where they made their report to Sergeant Maddock and the rest of the staff.
Maddock and the others were pleased, but one problem remained. How would they be able to get to the fence to perform the adjustment and engineering necessary to make part of it slide up and down? A mock-up with parts stolen from supply was already in the tunnel, so the men assigned to the project were familiar with their jobs.
"We have no choice," Maddock stated. "It will have to be done in stages. The inner fence will be done first. Then, you'll sneak under that, and do the outer part." Maddock walked over to the window and looked out. "Who's that civilian with Klink?"
"Not sure, " LeBeau answered. "But the Kommandant was making a big deal about how he has tamed the prisoners. He was definitely showing off the place. About the fence. The guards walk along the perimeter. We'll have to time their movements precisely, do the work in intervals and then keep under cover when they're around. It could take a while."
Maddock turned around and smiled. "Well, we're not on a set work schedule. It takes as long as it takes. I'll check with Helga tomorrow and see if she knows anything about Klink's visitor."
A/N: So the mix up strikes again. Luft Stalag 13 (not Stalag 13) gets the scientists, generals and weapons, and it will come back to haunt the Germans when Hogan gets to sabotage numerous weapon systems and steal lots of paperwork.
The first use of the camp to hide a weapon was in episode 3. "Kommandant of the Year." The Germans bring a rocket into camp, and Klink showed no surprise at his camp being used to hide a weapon. (The Tiger tank doesn't count, as Newkirk drove it in.) Hogan did explain to the men in the barracks that a POW camp was a safe place to hide a weapon as the Allies wouldn't bomb the camp. Continuity is a problem here, because I recall in other episodes that Burkhalter explained to Klink that a POW camp wouldn't be bombed.
The word bigwig has its origins in the 17th century when it was fashionable to wear wigs. The hair used to make up wigs were very expensive, and only the wealthy could afford the large wigs.
I have no rational explanation as to how the prisoners managed to jury-rig the fence without getting caught. But, I did my best. Either I'll never the finish the story, or my head will explode if I get too nit-picky with these details.