Colonel Hogan was scratching his head, leaning on an elbow as he sat at his desk and made neat annotations in a plain, nondescript notebook. It had been a busy few weeks since they'd sent their most recent group of flyers off, and he needed to catch up on his records. All in code of course. If anyone else read this notebook, it would simply appear that the Colonel was the type of man to go on at length about unrequited love.
He was not, however, too immersed in his work not to notice a sudden swell in the decibel level outside his office door. He frowned at the disturbance until he noticed there was a German voice in the mix, trying desperately to make his voice heard above the cacophony.
"Colonel Hoooooogan," bellowed Schultz as he banged his fist upon the Colonel's door, "Colonel Hogaaaan!"
Hogan smiled to himself and rose from his work. He placed his hand upon the door handle and paused, waiting for Schultz's large fist to pummel the door once more, before abruptly pulling it open – making sure to keep well back as Schultz's arm now flew through empty space.
"What can I do for you Sergeant?" grinned Hogan as a discombobulated Schultz attempted to regain his bearings.
"Colonel Hogan," wheezed Schultz, "You must help me, they will not keep their hands off of me! They KNOW everyone must wait their turn."
It was then that Hogan noticed that every single other man in the barracks was gathered in a sort of pack just behind Schultz, crowding around a gray bag that was slung over Schultz's shoulders…Of course, thought Hogan, mail!
"Alright, alright men," Hogan waved his hands soothingly, "Everyone will get their mail a lot quicker if we let Schultz do his job. Let's all take a seat."
The men grudgingly obliged, though Hogan's keen eyes noted that Newkirk (among others) sat on the barest edge of his. This did not surprise him. Newkirk in particular had been even more excited than usual for each mail call of late, although so far he did not seem to have received anything to reward his excitement. Hogan watched from his office door as a relieved Schultz delivered the mail to each of the men. Nothing for him, though he didn't expect anything as he'd received a letter from his parents at the last mail delivery.
And nothing for Newkirk either it would seem. When Schultz had handed out the last of the mail, the corporal turned back to his bunk with a look of disappointment. But, Hogan noted, also a look of resigned expectation.
Schultz left the barracks with his now empty gray bag, and Hogan turned to return to his quarters.
Before he had made it two steps however, a small "thunk" came from the bunk next to Newkirk's.
Someone was coming up from the tunnel.
Hogan turned back into the barracks as Newkirk swung off his bunk to unlatch the bunk's mechanism, allowing the man below to emerge from the tunnel. A moment later, Carter appeared, and Hogan was not surprised to see him wearing his signature grin.
"Well hiya fellas!"
"Hullo Carter," said Newkirk in a bored tone, "You missed the mail. There's a letter on your bunk."
"Oh excellent, thanks!" exclaimed Carter. He crossed the room to snatch the letter off his pillow.
"Oh boy, its from Pops. Probably going to tell me about how the new sign is looking on the store front. You know, he was thinking about going with a sort of blue colour with the new one, since the old one got torn down by "some no-account little varmints" as Pops would call them –"
"Carter," Hogan tried to interrupt the flood of words that were streaming out of Carter even as he
struggled to tear the thick envelope.
"But I convinced him to stick with the red, people think of red when they think of drug stores don't they, on account of the pharmaceuticals I think, they think "hospital" which I've always associated hospitals with red –"
"Carter –"
"Because of, yaknow, the Red Cross I think. Pops said he thinks it's a bit of stretch though, and that blue is more neutral, and people like neutral, and –"
"CARTER!" Hogan said, louder this time in an effort to get his point across.
Carter finally paused, looking up at the Colonel as he continued to fumble with his letter.
"Oh sorry sir, didn't hear you there. Did you need me for something?"
"Carter," said Hogan in a long-suffering but patient tone, "Don't you think you might want to tell us if you were able to get to the drop sight and pick up the package, so that we know that we got the penicillin to deliver to Snow White tonight, so that she can give it to the German defector and save his life so we can send him to England to sell out the Nazis?"
"Oh gosh sir, I'd nearly forgotten that!" Carter said, having at least the good grace to look abashed.
"Clearly," said Hogan with a wry grin.
"I got the package no problem Colonel," said Carter earnestly, eager to make up for his slip, "The medicine is all wrapped up and good to go for tonight, Baker was on the radio when I got in and he radioed Snow White to tell her we'd be ready tonight."
"Excellent," said Hogan, a weight lifting only slightly from his shoulders – they still had to get the penicillin to Snow White, but the hardest part was over. When they'd gotten the call from Snow White, the only safe time London could make the drop was early this morning, but it was too early for them get it immediately or they'd miss roll call. So Carter had had to slip out in the daylight and hope the package was still at the drop sight, and not picked up and taken by some passing stranger.
"That reminds me," Carter stood and pulled a package from his pocket as he spoke, "There was
something else in the package from London, I nearly forgot!"
Wondering what it could be, Hogan moved further into the room, stretching out his hand for the
package before Carter spun where he stood and said, "It's for Newkirk!"
Hogan blinked in surprise and lowered his hand. He wasn't the only one shocked, Newkirk's eyebrows were furrowed, his confusion clear on his face.
"For me Carter? What could London be wanting to send me so badly they put it in a day drop?"
"Dunno!" said Carter, pressing the package into Newkirk's hands, "Why don't you open it up and find out?"
"Right you are," Newkirk said slowly, considering the package in his hands.
It was a small, square shaped package, covered in brown paper and tied tightly with a string. His codename was scrawled in the top right corner in a neat hand. Newkirk pulled at the string, and pulled the paper back to reveal a box. Fixed to the top of the box was a small folded note. He flipped the note open and read aloud:
P.N.,
My thanks again for your assistance, and for your companionship while I was visiting your little "hotel". I can't tell you what it meant to me that you and your crew got me back to England instead of being sent to a POW camp, and how much I appreciate that that means you are all stuck there for the duration instead.
I get letters from my children occasionally, mainly from the elder two, and although I suspect I get them more regularly than you chaps do (and with less holes in them), I know how much of a difference it can make. That being said, there would be nothing in the world like getting to hold them again, to tell them I'm alright, and tell them that while I'm sorry I'm gone, I am truly making a difference in the world.
While I couldn't quite pull that off for you, I'm hoping this will make up some of the difference in the meantime.
Best,
A.P.
"A.P.?" Carter asked when Newkirk finished reading, "Who's A.P.?"
"The Lieutenant we processed a few weeks back I expect," said Newkirk quietly, staring at the letter as though he could not quite believe it, "We had a bit of a chat one night and he mentioned something about getting news from home but I never thought…"
Hogan was surprised as well. They'd had hundreds of men come through those tunnels, and not once had any of them ever sent word back through London, or even attempted it to his knowledge. Of course, most of them were enlisted men who wouldn't have any idea where to start to send them anything, but they'd had their fair share of officers as well. Even if they had wanted to send a message, such a thing was highly risky to their operation. While there was nothing in the Lieutenant's note that specifically referred to Stalag 13, you never knew what the Gestapo could do with the information if they got a hold of it.
"You must have made quite the impression, Newkirk," Hogan said, "That must have taken some doing, convincing London to let him send the package."
Newkirk looked startled.
"I swear sir, I never asked him to! I had no idea he'd send this through London, I just thought maybe he'd look in on Mavis, maybe ask her to get some new pictures taken of her little one."
"Don't worry Newkirk," Hogan said, making a calming gesture, "He had the good sense not to write anything incriminating in the letter, and we got our hands on it before anyone else did anyways, so no harm no foul. Why don't you see what's in the rest of the package?"
Newkirk looked reassured, as he took a deep breath and nodded before pulling the box the note had been attached to open. The rest of the men including Hogan leaned in, by now nearly as curious as Newkirk was to see what was inside.
Inside, Hogan could see another letter, folded in an envelope but with no name addressed on the outside. There was a brand new pack of playing cards, several packs of cigarettes that he knew were Newkirk's brand of choice, and a small greenish brown figurine, which Hogan recognized as a toy soldier. Newkirk pulled out the cigarettes and cards and set them on the table, and inhaled sharply as they revealed the final item in the box. At the bottom of the box was a photograph. Newkirk pulled it out and set the box on the table.
Hogan could just see enough of the photo to see a happy couple, with a small child standing in front of them who appeared to be 2-3 years old at most. The child was waving at the camera, and if Hogan squinted just slightly, he thought he saw a pair of toy soldiers in each chubby hand.
Newkirk stared at the photo for a moment, then he reached back into the box and pulled out the little toy soldier. It was dressed in army khaki, with a silvery wide brimmed helmet, reminiscent of the uniforms worn, Hogan knew, by the British troops in the first war. Newkirk looked at the photo again and back to the soldier, and the corners of his lips turned up in a small smile. It was then that he seemed to realize that the rest of the room was watching him.
"Me sister Mavis," he said, turning the photograph so more of the men could see, "And her husband Will. He must've been back on leave when they took this, lucky devil. They got married just before the war started. That's their little 'un there, he was born after I got here. Reckon the Lieutenant must've tracked them down and they put this together."
"Wow Newkirk," said Carter, "He looks just like you!"
"Hope so," Newkirk grinned, "For his sake."
"Is the letter from your sister?" Carter asked.
Newkirk pulled the letter out of the envelope and scanned the first few lines. He smiled again.
"Sure is. That Lieutenant Pevensie really outdid himself. He's a bit of alright, for an officer."
Hogan raised an eyebrow, but the twinkle in Newkirk's eye as he met Hogan's gaze showed he didn't really mean it.
"Alright men," Hogan said, dispersing the crowd, "Show and tell is over, let's let Newkirk read his letter in peace and everyone get back to their own mail."
Newkirk nodded appreciatively at Hogan, gathering up the rest of the box's contents and jumping up on his bunk to read the rest of what appeared to be a very lengthy letter.
Later that evening, as they passed the time until it was late enough to head out of the tunnel on that night's mission, Hogan noticed Newkirk offering the cigarettes out to the other men who stayed awake with them. He also broke open the pack of cards, and started breaking them in with a series of games to keep the men occupied.
The photograph and letter were pinned up on the wall next to Newkirk's bunk, but at first Hogan saw no sign of the little toy soldier. But if he had to guess, he suspected the way that Newkirk's breast pocket suddenly had a new, irregular shape to it explained the soldier's absence from Newkirk's shelf perfectly.
