A Lie of Dye

The cold, dry air rushing into Sergeant Kinchloe's lungs was quite painful as he ran and weaved his way around the buildings and people that populated Stalag 13. It was no worse than whatever guilt he would have felt if he didn't put a stop to this as soon as he could.

Relief flooded him when he spotted the guards' laundry building ahead, and gave him that little extra boost of energy needed. Seeing the man he needed to find was even better, and called out, "Corporal Wiedenfeld! Corporal! Stop! Don't use that detergent!"

The tall and leanly muscled Wiedenfeld turned away from the other guards, a confused look on his cold-reddened face. "What is the matter, Sergeant? I have leave tonight. I must get my laundry done. Besides, the detergent they provide us doesn't do a good job. One of your own men was kind enough to provide this stuff from your country—"

"It's a scam," Kinch said. "That stuff was made here in camp. It's a potent dye."

Wiedenfeld sighed, his breath visible in the cold. "I would appreciate you not delaying this, Sergeant."

"Let me show you, please. Trust me. If you use that, all of your clothes are ruined."

A thoughtful expression crossed Wiedenfeld's face. He gave another sigh. "Alright. Show me. But, if this turns out to be a trick, I will be reporting this to Schultz."

Unfortunately, Corporal, that's not much of a threat. Kinch kept his thoughts to himself. He brought Wiedenfeld over to one of the water barrels—fortunately not the one that Colonel Hogan's periscope was kept in—and, using one of his own socks, Kinch showed Wiedenfeld the nasty, obnoxious dye that he had been given. It was bright pink, and stained horribly, as Kinch was unable to remove it.

Wiedenfeld stared for a moment, then cursed aloud. "Who made this?"

"Corporal Newkirk did."

Another curse from Wiedenfeld. "That little pestilence! I was going to clean a new pair of gloves for my wife with this!"

Kinch nodded. "I… may have overheard that while cleaning up some of the litter earlier."

Wiedenfeld was quiet, working his jaw. "I see." His shoulders sagged. "This could have ended in disaster. I have not been able to get anything new or nice for my wife in a while. Thank you, Sergeant. I will go warn anyone else who picked up this dye."

"No problem. Have a good time tonight." Kinch picked up the ruined sock after Wiedenfeld left, sighing before bringing it into the barracks to dry. He would talk to Carter about finding something that could remove it.

It didn't take long for word of the pink dye to spread around camp. Kinch was playing cards with Carter when Newkirk stormed into the barracks. "Alright, who sang to the Krauts about me dye?!"

"I did," Kinch said. "You've gone too far this time!"

"What, it's not like it was poison!"

"No, but it's impossible to wash off. I could forgive something temporary, but that stuff will ruin everything it touches! Look at my sock!" Kinch stopped when he noticed a door opening in the corner of his eye, and Hogan stepped out into the barracks.

The colonel folded his arms over his chest, speaking in a low, serious tone. "Alright, before this gets out of hand, I want to see you two in my office."

Kinch and Newkirk were soon standing in front of Hogan, both wearing neutral expressions, but Newkirk's had a tinge of nervousness.

Hogan leaned against his desk. "Newkirk, did you make the pink dye?"

"I did, sir," Newkirk said, quietly.

"And did you get other people in on it, trying to sell or trade it to the guards with the claims that it would make their clothes 'like new?'"

"I did, sir."

Hogan turned to Kinch, who explained that he told Wiedenfeld after overhearing the conversation about Wiedenfeld's wife. The colonel was quiet for a moment. "Look, I don't mind pranks every once in a while, but I agree this was a little too far. I want all that dye brought back here."

"I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again," Newkirk said, looking at the floor. "I'm ready to accept any punishment you give me."

"Who said I was punishing you?" A lopsided grin crossed Hogan's face. "We're going to find a way to give that stuff to Hochstetter." His grin faded. "Go make sure all that dye gets collected."

"Yes, sir." Newkirk turned to leave the room.

Hogan turned to Kinch. "Not every day one of my own men decides to say something to the Germans about one of our own that isn't part of a bigger plan."

"I know, Colonel," Kinch said. "If anything, I'm expecting to be punished now."

"Don't worry about it. You've always been good at keeping everyone from running too wild."

"Thanks, Colonel."