Soundtrack to a Séance
"We think you'll like what we have to show you," Corporal Waters said to Colonel Hogan as he led him into Barracks 8. "We've been working on it since last summer, when some of my men were bored after we lost the first round of the baseball championship and you asked us to workshop ideas for future distractions."
Hogan looked around the barracks, curious about what this was, especially considering the sheer pride on all the men's faces. It was already winter. If they had been working on it since summer, then it must be something big. The rest of the Barracks 2 men stepped in behind him, no one wanting to miss out and Barracks 8 clearly wanting to show off. Once they were all inside, Corporal Waters stomped twice on the floor. There was a brief pause, and then the sound of a pipe organ began playing Yankee Doodle. It was quiet, but all the Barracks 2 men jumped when they heard it. After the song ended, there was another pause, and then one of the bunks opened up as the final Barracks 8 man came out of the tunnels.
"What did you think, Sir?" he asked.
"Amazing. How did you do it?"
Several of the men leaped into action and pulled some of the loose bunks out of the way before removing some of the boards making the walls. Behind was a small space behind filled with wooden pipes. "We couldn't get metal pipes, what with the war and all, so it's made all of wood," explained Waters.
"I was also playing as quietly as I could. I know we asked you to come when all the guards were upwind from us, but we didn't want to spoil the surprise in case you ever needed us."
"Gentlemen," Hogan said, "you couldn't have done better. I'll need a list of every man in camp who can play the organ, but keep it hidden. I'm sure we'll have a use for it."
It was less time than Hogan and his men expected before they had a use for the organ. "The man is insufferable, Hogan," Klink complained a couple of months later to Hogan regarding Keiber, a visiting missile designer with delusions of grandeur. "He is demanding to use my quarters for a séance, if you can believe it."
"I thought you all went in for spiritualism here in Germany," Hogan said, shuffling through Klink's papers in the name of putting them back in order after they conveniently fell off Klink's desk.
"A little here and there is fine, but he wants to use a séance as proof to General Burkhalter that he should shut down Stalag XIII and make a private fishing pond instead."
"Shut down Stalag XIII?" Hogan said, alarmed that Keiber wanted to shut down their operation, even if he did not know it. He immediately began thinking of all the ways a séance could be rigged, but he pretended to be overjoyed. "Say, that's a great idea. I've missed Christmas, but if we hurry, I could be home in time for Ma Hogan's birthday!"
"You won't be going home," Klink declared firmly. "Even if Keiber gets his way, you will be sent to another camp."
"Sure, but one without your zero escape record," Hogan grinned.
A day later, after verifying a few facts with London and the Underground—Keiber spent several years of his childhood in America and has a loathing for any non-German music—Hogan launched his plan. All it took was a few well-placed words—I heard you are planning on a séance. I've been wanting to sit in on one ever since I was a kid. Do you think I could join you?—and Hogan found himself at the table, fond memories of all the jokes he used to play on his cousins coming to mind.
"Keiber, you must do this. We want you to come join us," came a haunting voice, and Hogan had to admit the Underground member serving as their medium was doing a fantastic job.
"Join you? What do you mean?" Keiber asked.
"You pretend you do not remember Johnny Lennis, but ever since that day, you are destined for death by fish," the medium proclaimed with an absolutely haunting laugh, loud enough to be heard outside the room. Hogan though he could make out footsteps running away.
"Johnny Lennis survived. I saved him!"
"And now you must die in the way meant for him!"
At that moment, a haunting rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel began playing across the camp, carried by the winter winds with all the stops pulled. Keiber screamed, and Hogan felt his hand being crushed in the man's terror. Across from him he could see Klink grimacing and General Burkhalter looking only mildly interested. "Close the connection!" Keiber yelled. He said no more, and fled after the séance ended.
"Did you get the pictures?" Hogan asked when he reached the barracks.
"Missile plans right here and ready to head to London," Kinch confirmed.
"Good. Has anyone checked on Waters and his men?"
"They couldn't be happier," LeBeau said, and when Hogan met with them to debrief, they were all grinning. Looking around, Hogan did not know when he would next have a chance to use the organ, but if anything was clear to him, it was that his men, even those who were not usually on missions, were all part of the team that made this place work. He would always encourage them to pursue their plans, even crazy ones.