"I thought you wanted me to marry Colonel Klink," Gertrude Linkmeyer set her cup of weak coffee back onto the table, peering at her brother.
"I do," Albert adjusted his weight a bit. "But if you are to marry Colonel Klink, then you must be aware of this fact. It would be wildly inappropriate to go into a marriage without possessing the facts. The fact is, Colonel Klink has a son…out of wedlock."
"I see." She returned to sewing for several moments. "And was he aware of this fact?"
"I did not get that impression," the man admitted. "In fact, he is so…surprised that he has begun to spiral into madness."
"What is his son like?" She added a few more stitches and watched her brother's face twist up.
"I do not know…I hardly spoke to him. I understand he is…injured."
"So he is a soldier?"
"In a manner of speaking." Now his face was even more peculiar. "And it doesn't matter. You."
"I would like to meet him, then," Gertrude told him frankly.
"Meet him? Gertrude, it would hardly be appropriate."
"Why not, if Colonel Klink did not know he existed…then he can hardly be blamed. Such…dalliances are normal for men, are they not." Her brother squirmed in his chair. "Of course, not all men are my Otto, but I knew that Klink had many character deficiencies when we met."
"The child is out of wedlock, Gertrude!" He exclaimed, probably more scandalized than he ought to be.
"The child can hardly be blamed for such a thing," she scoffed. Only a man would be so stupid about the natural consequnces of behaving like an ass. Men would celebrate their conquests in the same breath as they would denounce their companions as whores. "It would hardly be charitable."
"Gertrude, a man who is unmarried, should never."
"Just as a married man," she sneered with an icy tone that silenced her brother. "Should never make such advances on a woman other than his wife."
" Gertrude ! " He hissed.
"And a married man should not be seen at any of those burlesque clubs." she cut the thread.
"Gertrude!"
"And just as a married officer should not be seen in a compromising position with anyone other than his wife."
"GERTRUDE!" Albert half-rose from his chair, red in the face and furious.
"Be quiet, Albert," Gertrude ordered, and he sat back down in shock. "Now, what sort of soldier is this man.'
"He is a flyer."
"A flyer…like his father."
"Yes ," her brother sulked. "He looks exactly like Klink."
"That is unfortunate," she agreed and hesitated. "He looks nothing like his mother?"
"I did not notice…as not even Klink seems to know who the boy's mother is."
"I hope he will be an acceptable brother for Lotte," Gertrude realized a moment later. "Ah, I shall have to meet him to make sure he is a good son to have."
"You cannot seriously be thinking of meeting him…or of considering Colonel Klink as a future husband."
"I have not made up my mind," the woman retorted. "I want to know the circumstances about this…young Klink before I make any further judgments about either of them."
"No, Gertrude…I will not allow it. It would not be appropriate."
" You have been pushing Colonel Klink at me," she reminded him, and Albert flushed. "It is not as if I don't have a child."
"Gertrude! This is not the same!" He looked away, embarrassed. "When did you care so little about these things?"
Probably around the time she received news that Otto was missing in action. Possibly around the same time as her home was beginning to be bombed by Allied fliers, and the war became more and more incomprehensible each day. This would have put her off several years ago, but now she was simply curious. Gertrude didn't answer and resolved to meet the young Klink when possible.
"Who is he assigned to at the moment?"
"Curiously enough…Colonel Klink."
"Then it should be easy enough to meet this…younger Klink. How did they find him?"
"You could say," Albert looked torn between smug and unhappy. "That he dropped into his life."
"Hmmm, then meeting my potential stepson is important," she said plainly. "As I have seen with many of my friends, blending families may not be easy. I would not accept Klink if Lotte does not like him…either one of them."
"You cannot mean to introduce Lotte to this man?" Flabbergasted, he sat up straight.
"Not yet," she scoffed. "Not when I haven't met him."
"I must advise against it," Albert finally gathered himself. "This son of Klink would be entirely unsuitable to have as a stepson…and I could not accept him into this family."
" Albert ! What crime has he committed that you would press against him like this?"
"That…I cannot tell you, but you must trust me."
"I see." She stared at her lap, voice loaded with dark promise. Albert had a sudden and unfamiliar sense of fear ring through him.
#$#$#
Sergeant Klink had been trying to rest , which was proving damn near impossible when nurses, doctors, and random soldiers kept popping into his room for some reason or another. It was to the point where an annoyed Corporal Langenshiedt started refusing entry to anyone who wasn't the doctor or nurse on duty, citing Colonel Klink's orders.
The colonel hadn't given any such orders, but the corporal felt confident that it wouldn't matter. He liked the sergeant, even as doped up as he was. Sure, he looked like the unpleasant bully of an officer, and even if he was an enemy officer, the man was polite and didn't harass the nurses, and mostly seemed tired.
Not to mention this was the best bit of gossip that Karl had gotten in months . Still, he felt near unimaginable horror when the last person anyone wanted to see appeared down the hallway of the hospital with a dithering, panicking doctor on her heels.
"I do not understand the trouble!" Frau Linkmeyer exclaimed. "I am simply here to visit a wounded soldier; this is hardly so surprising!"
Given the nature of her relationship with Klink, Karl could easily figure out where she'd learned the news and could just as easily deduce what she didn't know.
"It is not so simple," the doctor floundered a few steps away. "Frau Linkmeyer, this patient is…dagnerous. I cannot allow you into."
"Dangerous?" She scoffed, "a wounded pilot is never dangerous!" She hitched a basket higher onto her arm and rounded on the corporal. "Corporal Langendshedit! Stand aside!"
Licking his lips, the nervous man found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. "Frau Linkmeyer," he managed. "The doctor is correct…this patient is….and the colonel ordered."
" Klink ordered ?" She laughed faintly. "Do not be absurd; we are practically married! I will not be denied."
"Frau Linkmeyer," he stepped to the side, intercepting her. "Please, understand that."
"Get out of my way! Corporal!" She ordered firmly, and he felt the cold wind of the eastern front brush over him.
"The sergeant is trying to rest from his injuries," he tried.
"I understand that, Corporal," she said sweetly but with steel. "Which is why I have brought something to soothe his injures." He looked down and spied the basket was laden with several sandwiches and some real apples. Grimacing, he met the doctors eyes and stepped aside after opening the door. She made it two steps into the room, eyes focusing on the familiar face before her expression dropped with shock at the American uniform jacket hanging from the coat rack.
" My God! " She whirled on Karl. "That is an American uniform!"
"Yes….Frau Linkmeyer." He glanced at the unfortunate pilot and then back at the woman, who seemed utterly confused.
"He…is American?" He caught her elbow as she dropped into the chair beside the bed. Sergeant Klink stirred a bit but didn't wake. " An American ?"
"There is a reason I am guarding the door," he offered, hoping that she would get out of here as soon as possible.
"Colonel Klink's son is…an American?" Again, the scandal seemed too much for the woman as she held a hand to her forehead.
"Frau Linkmeyer," he tried and glanced over at the pilot just in time to see his eyes flutter open. The visible confusion deepened as he looked from Karl to the doctor and then finally to Frau Linkmeyer.
"Hello?" He asked, adjusting a bit against the pillows, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. If the uniform hadn't been enough, then the accented English certainly was.
"You're American!" Frau Linkmeyer exclaimed again, leaping to her feet. "How are you American?"
"Uh…." Sensing dangerous territory, the pilot fell silent.
"Frau Linkmeyer," Karl tried again, "Perhaps it would be wise."
"You are Sergeant Klink, are you not?" Her English caught the man be surprise. She set the basket beside the bed. Wisley, he didn't answer, but he didn't have to. His face was so like Colonel Klink's that it didn't matter. "I don't understand! You're an American pilot!"
"Ma'am…I think you should leave." He gestured at the door with his good hand, and Karl had the dubious honor of watching a General's sister puff up like a watchdog.
"You don't dismiss me!" She barked. "I demand an explanation!"
"I…don't have one." Sergeant Klink tried, and she continued to stare.
"Frau Linkmeyer," Karl tried again and winced when he caught sight of Colonel Klink stalking down the hallway with his riding crop tucked under his arm. Instead of trying to salvage the situation, he stood to the side and decided to let the entire event unfold.
#$#$#
William had no context, understanding, or sense as to why a matronly woman was sitting beside his bed. She didn't seem happy, but no one had been happy since he'd landed in Germany. Her demands as to why he was American also made no sense.
It wasn't like he'd had a choice for where he'd been raised, and if he had to guess…she was probably an acquaintance of the flighty colonel. Which he really didn't want to deal with at the moment. What he really wanted was to relax, maybe get some sleep, and hope the throbbing in his shoulder went down. It wasn't like it was a simple surgery; he'd wrecked a plane, his shoulder, and then been cut open again.
Corporal Langenshiedt seemed to have reated, and the reason became apparent as the tall, monocled colonel pushed his way into the room. Upon finding the strange woman, who William had no name for, froze in obvious horror.
"Frau Linkmeyer!" If William heard that correctly, that meant she was Mrs. Linkmeyer…which really didn't explain what she was doing in William's hospital room. From there, the conversation descended into German, and William was utterly lost.
#$#$#$#
Colonel Klink couldn't decide if he was thrilled or horrified that Frau Linkmeyer had found out that he had a son. On one hand, it would probably put her off marriage. On the other hand…he wasn't keen on having anyone discover his son. If she knew, then Burkhaulter had told her and the general was one of the biggest gossips that Klink had met…there was no telling when this would get back to his mother, William's mother, and then…William's mother's husband.
"What? Bring you….by today, Frau Linkmeyer?" Klink wondered, clutching his riding crop close and grimacing. On the bed, the sergeant glanced between them, confused.
"My brother," she said, and Klink wanted to fall through the floor. "Informed me that your son was injured, and being the good German woman I am, I thought to bring him something to lift his spirits! Only to learn that he is actually an American!" Klink winced as the accusatory gaze landed on the confused sergeant. "And I demand an explanation, Colonel Klink! How could you have allowed this to happen?"
"I did not allow anything!" He rushed to defend himself. "I am just as surprised as anyone, Frau Linkmeyer!" Wringing the riding crop between his hands he hoped against hope that she would rush out in a disgusted huff and possibly abandon all thoughts of marriage. If anything, it would make sense for such a traditional woman to leave him.
"Surprise…" She jerked her head at the door, nearly dragging him from the room. Deeply confused, he followed until they were relatively isolated in a corner of the hospital. "Colonel Klink, do you mean to tell me that you truly had no idea that."
"I had no idea I had a son!' Klink exclaimed, more distressed than he ever remembered being. "I had no idea I had a son until Hochstetter dragged him into Stalag 13! While there is no proof…I…" His voice choked off, and he deflated. "Do you think so little of me, Frau Linkmeyer...that I would leave my son?
She hesitated before shaking her head. "No… that does not seem like you. Albert told me that you had a son…but he made no mention of the fact that he was American . How? How did this happen?"
Again, Klink helplessly shrugged.
"Well, it is clear some grievous injustice has taken place. Do not worry, Colonel Klink," she smiled up at him, and he wished the floor would open up beneath him. "I will not abandon you."
"Why…why did you come by the hospital today?"
"I wished to take a measure of the man who could be my stepson. Naturally….I am not happy that he is American, but I imagine that you are just as upset but this."
"Frau Linkmeyer," he tried, wondering why the hell a secret American son wasn't enough to put her off. "I…."
"The other prisoners weren't responsible for his state, were they?"
"No… the injuries were from his crash."
"Well," she hesitated, "What sort of man is he? "
"I do not know," his shoulder dropped. "Name, rank, and serial number. I would dearly love to speak with him properly…but his allegiances make it impossible."
"Well…I'm sure I could try." She offered, but he shook his head.
"Frau Linkmeyer…this has been very distressing…as I am sure you can understand this."
"I understand, Colonel. Have you come to see how he is recovering?"
"Yes…I." He couldn't decide what to say and only shrugged. "Well, your Corporal is doing a very fine job. You should see to his promotion."
"Yes, yes," he agreed, distracted. "I'll see to that. If you'll excuse me, Frau Linkmeyer." He snapped his heels together and vanished.
#$#$#$
"Word from underground, Colonel." Hogan turned from the card game towards Kinch. "We've got a big bird coming into town soon."
"A big bird?" Carter asked.
"General von Hinkel," Kinch tucked his hands into his pockets. "His wife has an apartment nearby, and he's due back in a few days. There's a member of his staff that's got the information we can use. They want us to make contact with a member of this staff and get it. They won't say what it is, but considering Hinkel's back from Norway, it's probably big news.
"Hmmm, what do we know about him?"
"His wife is rich, old money, and they have four daughters."
"Lovely," Newkirk rubbed his palms together. "Unmarried?"
"Would it matter?" Kinch laughed. "No idea about the daughters, but Duchess Brigit von Hinkel is nearby, and she's a social butterfly. She probably rubs elbows with the likes of Frau Linkmeyer."
"That could be useful. Sergeant Klink might draw Gertrude out of the woodwork…and if he's going to be in the hospital for a while then we should be able to use him as a courier."
"But that would mean getting Linkmeyer and Klink invited to the same event with the von Hinkel's." Lebeau pointed out. "Which Klink will never do."
"Maybe," Hogan considered the problem. "Maybe…but Klink doesn't want to leave the sergeant's side."
"How is Sergeant Bill taking it?" Carter wondered.
"Not…badly, but not well. He doesn't seem to believe it at all. We can use this to our advantage, though, if the colonel fixates on the sergeant, then we can use their time…hmmm." He rubbed his chin, thinking quickly. "When he gets back from the hospital. The sergeant is under orders not to discuss anything with the colonel until I give the say-so."
"If he thinks the colonel is his old man, why not just tell him?" Newkirk wondered.
"Because he doesn't believe it. There's not really a way to confirm what happened…except that apparently, Colonel Klink did go see the woman he suspects of being the sergeant's father. Turns out, she did have a baby." The men gave a satisfying gasp. Hogan shrugged. "I don't have the details yet, but."
"Who was it?" Carter leaned forward. "Who's the mother?"
"Blimey, this is like one of those dreadful radio shows," Newkirk muttered.
"I don't know yet," Hogan told them, glaring at Carter. "Whoever it is, he's playing it close to his chest."
"But what about the von Hinkel's? And wouldn't Gertrude Linkmeyer find out about this from her brother and drop Klink?"
"No clue…we might have to have Klink throw a party. If the general's aide wants to bring his plans…then we'll have to find a way. He can usually be counted on to throw a party, especially if it's for big brass."
"That means I have to fire up the stove," Lebeau muttered, and Hogan patted his shoulder.
"We'll come through," he assured the men. "We just need to convince Klink he needs to throw a party."
#$#$#
"Are you going to tell me, Klink?" General Burkhalter demanded pulling on his cigar as the chronically nervous man paced through the room. "Or much I guess?" Klink didn't notice, so he settled for a shout. " Klink !"
"General!" With his usual promptness, the man jerked to a halt and snapped to attention.
"Well?" He demanded.
"Well, general." He gestured aimlessly, eyes still as wide and panicked as ever. "I…I suppose there is evidence. Well barring any true evidence there is a firm conclusion that."
"He is your son?" Klink froze at the words, the panicked expression on his face becoming more pronounced with each passing second. It was a strange look for the man, not unusual given his nervous disposition, but still strange. His tightly grasped hands were slackening bit by bit, and Burkhalter watched the tall man fold down onto the lounge chair with a bewildered expression. "Then he is your son." He watched the proceedings a moment longer.
"My son," Klink repeated helplessly. "My son is a grown man."
"He is." Burkhalter agreed, still smoking.
"I…my son is American ."
"That is unfortunate. Now about his mother." He was duly surprised when Klink cleared his throat.
"Sir?"
"Who is the mother?"
"Erm," Klink tugged at his collar.
"Well?"
"Well…I am not certain it. There is a matter of utmost delicacy." For the first time since Burkhalter had known the nervous man, he displayed a measure of strength. "I cannot, with any sense of honor, expose her. It is…it does not matter, General Burkhalter."
"But you…confirmed it."
"Yes," he licked his thin lips nervously.
General Burkhalter leaned back, considering the problem with a considered eye. He hadn't met much of the young man, but according to Klink's dithering report, his sister had visited and been equally astonished by the sergeant. He would have to discuss this with her later. As much as he wanted her married, he wasn't sure he wanted her married to a man like Klink. Since he wasn't in the business of comforting people, he handed over a cigar that was accepted by a limp, nervous hand.
'Well." He breathed in a lungful of smoke. "Then what do you intend to do?"
"What is there to do? What can be done? He is my son, but he is American." Klink was up again, pacing the room frantically. Burkhalter watched with a jaundiced eye. "He is a soldier, and he is a….American!"
"We've covered that part."
"We have! I must find out how this could have happened! It could have only ever involved my wretched mother." That, Albert had to agree on. Considering the general disposition of Kink's mother, it was a wonder the man was able to stand at all. "Oh! How dare she! How dare they! I had as much of a right to the child!"
"Well," he really wasn't sure what to say. "What does Hogan think of this?"
"He…he seems to think it is all very interesting."
"And will his men intend to take this out on the sergeant?" If that was the case, they'd have moved him for his own safety.
"I…rather think they believe this entire mess is amusing. They are bored, and are enjoying the scandal."
"Do they intend to take some vengeance upon him?"
"I think…they are enjoying this. No one gossips more than pilots."
"Will he be safe?"
"Yes, yes. He's been kept in the infirmary as a safety measure. If anything happens to him," Klink shivered violently.
"It would make the man a decent target for the prisoners, it may not be feasible to keep him at Stalag 13."
"A prisoner exchange?"
"I doubt it. He is only a sergeant and one with a German last name. It may be...I will investigate, the possibility to offer him a position with the foreign conscripts. The SS Division Nordland. What? What?" Klink's face had spasmed so suddenly that Burkhaulter wondered if he was having a fit.
"No, rather. Erm. Apologies, General. I"m really not certain how accepted he might be there."
"Does it matter?" The fat general asked, tossing back his drink. "As a favor, Colonel...I will ask." As the large man heaved himself out of his chair, across the camp, Hogan met Kinche's eyes over the coffeepot.