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Drive

Corporal Langenscheidt found it extremely distracting that Colonel Klink was constantly "fixing" what little hair was left on his head in the mirror, as Langenscheidt was trying to drive and couldn't stand seeing Klink's arms raising in the corner of his eye. Despite that, the young corporal bit his tongue and put up with it. That seemed to be the only thing he could do in the face of so many things that occurred at Stalag 13.

He stayed quiet until parking on one of the old streets of Hammelburg, lined with beautiful homes and inns. In the dark, he could see Luftwaffe officers making their way toward the front doors of the largest building, a hotel. Some were alone, while others had a lady on their arm. Langenscheidt bit his lip, a bud of longing sprouting into a dull ache in his chest. He kept his expression neutral despite memories surfacing of his last date with sweet, sweet Amalia. People typically didn't think of a barn as a good place for a date, but for Langenscheidt and Amalia, it was perfect. They were alone with each other and that was all that mattered.

Klink's voice dampened the brief happiness however. "Now, Corporal, I expect my car to be here when I return at exactly ten o'clock. Don't go anywhere."

"Yes, Herr Kommandant," Langenscheidt replied, flatly.

He watched Klink get out of the car. Of course, the first thing Klink did was walk briskly up to General Burkhalter, who, naturally, looked thrilled to see him, judging by his heavy sigh and thinly-veiled sarcasm. There were times when Langenscheidt couldn't help feeling sympathy for Burkhalter when it came to dealing with Klink, but at least Burkhalter could say whatever he wanted, even if his remarks frequently went over Klink's head.

About ten minutes passed before people stopped trickling into the hotel. The other officers' drivers were outside, leaning against their vehicles, chatting with each other or having a cigarette. Langenscheidt allowed himself to daydream about Amalia for a bit. A moment later, he couldn't tell if he was tired, the head injury that landed him in a rear echelon position in the first place was acting up, or both, because it looked like Amalia was standing right outside the window.

She is standing outside the window! Langenscheidt excitedly unlocked the door and got out of the driver's seat. His heart was pounding rapidly as he took Amalia in a hug, then lifted her up to gently spin her around. At that moment, he didn't care if anyone else was watching. He hadn't been expecting to see Amalia at all that evening, so this was the most pleasant of all surprises. Langenscheidt squeezed her as he set her down. "It is so good to see you," he breathed.

"It is good to see you, too," Amalia replied, standing on her toes to kiss Langenscheidt's cheek.

"How did you know I was going to be here?"

"I didn't. I heard there was going to be a gathering for the local Luftwaffe men, so I came hoping that you would be here."

"Your hopes paid off, then." Langenscheidt kept Amalia enveloped in a hug. "I thought it would be weeks before we could see each other again."

"So did I." Amalia rested her head on his shoulder. She then took his head, whispering directly in his ear, "Do you think you could take us for a drive, Karl?"

"I would love to, but I am supposed to stay here until the party ends at ten."

"We can come back long before then. There is something you should know."

Her tone was serious. Langenscheidt nodded, and got back in Klink's staff car. "Of course," he said. "As long as we are back before ten."

"Could we go around the farms south of here? It is lovely this time of year."

"Sure, sure." Langenscheidt didn't like how anxious and serious Amalia's voice had gotten. He started the car, and began pulling away from the sidewalk, gradually making his way toward the southern outskirts of Hammelburg. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes—well, it is now." Amalia looked out the window, nervously tucking her short, dark hair behind her ears. When they were driving along an empty road, shrouded by trees in their autumn best, she said, "You can stop here."

Langenscheidt applied the brakes, and waited until the car had come to a complete stop before turning it off. "Can you tell me what is on your mind?"

"Outside," Amalia mouthed.

Langenscheidt nodded, and got out of the car. He followed Amalia over to an old fallen tree trunk just past the red and orange row of oaks and maples and aspens. They sat quietly for a few seconds, though Langenscheidt was biting back anxiety the whole time.

"I had overheard a rumor that there was going to be a bombing at the meeting by the Underground. Just a rumor. Regardless, I didn't want you getting caught in it."

Langenscheidt was at a loss for words. Yes, it was just a rumor, but the last thing he wanted was to be caught in something so terrifying. He leaned forward, taking his service cap off and rubbing his face. Involuntarily, he ran his gloved fingers through his hair, finding the single scar that remained from the accident that barred him from combat and kept him in the dull, monotonous position he had at Stalag 13. His memories of the plane crash were blurry, often only appearing in nightmares. The aftermath in the hospital was a bit clearer. He remembered staring up in terror at the masked doctors working over him. That wasn't something he wanted to experience again.

"Karl?" Amalia touched his arm.

"Sorry—thinking." Langenscheidt sat up a little straighter. "Um… thanks, for… for telling me."

Amalia pulled herself closer to him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I was just thinking about the… the crash."

"I had a feeling. I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Langenscheidt drew in a breath. "I hope it is just a rumor."

"So do I." Amalia squeezed his hand, and leaned against him. "It is tiring to worry."

Langenscheidt nodded in agreement. "Best we can do is keep our eyes and ears open, and warn each other."

"I wish we didn't have to."

"Same." Langenscheidt sighed. "We will get through it, as long as we have hope." He smiled, and squeezed Amalia's hand in return. "You are part of my hope. You are special in a way that is difficult to describe."

"So are you." Amalia turned to put her arms around Langenscheidt's neck, her nose touching his. "What do you suggest we do about going back? I don't want you to get in trouble."

For a moment, Langenscheidt pondered not going back at all. Steal Klink's car and run away with Amalia to the Swiss border. It would be a long drive, but he felt he could do it. Or, ask Colonel Hogan for help. Langenscheidt wasn't blind to what the prisoners were doing. There were times when he was tempted to tell them that he knew they were involved with certain things going on outside the camp, and he wanted to tell them to be mindful of Amalia. Then again, he wondered if they already knew. They were more observant than many of the guards and Klink himself gave them credit for. Instead, Langenscheidt said, "If the Underground is targeting this party, I think we will be safe if we park on a different street." He knew he could very well be wrong, but it was worth a try.

They drove back into Hammelburg after sharing a kiss. So far, it didn't look like anything had happened. Langenscheidt could see the silhouettes of the officers and their female companions through the windows, including Klink flailing about in what Langenscheidt presumed was dancing. He parked on the next street over, with plans to start driving back to his original spot at five minutes to ten.

Amalia had only told Langenscheidt she would tell him the rumor outside the car because she suspected Klink was paranoid enough to bug his own car. Langenscheidt assured her that wasn't the case, given that his best friend, Corporal Kielholz, worked on the car and had never found any bugs. That being said, though, the two decided to have a quiet cuddle in the back seat. It was cold and dark, but it wasn't that much more different than their previous date in the barn.

When there were a few minutes left until Langenscheidt needed to return to his original parking spot, he was dimly aware of the fact that he and Amalia had dozed off together. At least they hadn't dozed for too long. Langenscheidt blinked and squinted to read his watch. "It's time," he whispered.

Amalia sighed, her breath visible in the cold air. "Damn."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay." Amalia sat up to open the door, but paused to look at Langenscheidt. "Please be careful."

"I will. You be careful, too."

Amalia nodded, then put her hand on the door handle.

Langenscheidt sat up. "Amalia?"

She paused again, turning to face him.

"I love you. If… something happened… I want to make sure you know. I love you more than I can express in words."

Amalia smiled before giving him a quick kiss. "I love you, too. Have a good night. We will see each other soon."

"As long as Klink does not cancel my leave pass for being point-five seconds late," Langenscheidt said with a slight grin. "Good night."

He got back into the driver's seat after Amalia was headed down the street, away from the hotel. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating in his gloves as he approached the parking space in front of the hotel. When he stopped, he let out his breath, closed his eyes, and began to pray.

His prayers were interrupted by Klink's endless jabbering to Burkhalter as they left the hotel. Klink was fumbling with the door handle while trying to shower Burkhalter with praise for something while Burkhalter looked as unimpressed as always. He finally told Klink to shut up and go to bed, before turning to head to his own staff car, not bothering to continue listening. Langenscheidt couldn't exactly blame him.

"Generals." Klink scoffed. "What do they know?" He looked at Langenscheidt. "Take me back to Stalag 13, where I can continue my perfect record that everyone was so clearly jealous of tonight."

Langenscheidt, as he had done before, bit his tongue and drove on. He kept his thoughts on Amalia while driving, but also on the rumor she had heard. He wondered what was actually going on.

He wouldn't find out until the next day that one of the generals' vehicles—not Burkhalter's—had been rigged with explosives. It seemed serendipitous that the general, his driver, and aide had all been out of the vehicle to have a smoke break. Some important documents, however, did not get so lucky, and it came as a surprise to no one that Hochstetter came barging in shortly after morning roll call, suspecting it was connected to Stalag 13.

Langenscheidt figured it was best to stay quiet. He would follow Schultz's example, and see nothing, and know nothing.