This sweet chapter brought to you by PicassoPenguin!

Camp

The lights were out, and silence reigned over most of the dark room, but Eddie Dixon was still wide awake. He'd never been away from home this long before. The creaking of bunk beds as people shifted, the sound of rain cascading down the roof, and the dark shadows that all fell on the floor didn't help. This cabin was spooky!

A frog croaked from somewhere nearby, and Eddie sat bolt upright. Before he could help it, a couple tears were trickling down his cheeks. He stiffened. Wolf Cubs didn't cry! They helped others and strengthened their pack. He just wanted to go home…

To Eddie's horror, soon sniffling was echoing in the cabin as well. He buried his face in his sleeping bag. He was tough, he was a scout, and he was NOT crying.

He heard a stirring beneath him, but before he could get his face under control, Andy had popped his head up to look at him, his hair stuck up in every direction.

"What's eating you, boy?" Andy threw one hand over the upper bunk and climbed up, the other clutching his cap. He was gangly and awkward when they played games, but had no issues plopping next to Eddie. The crying boy hurried to wipe away his tears. Crying in front of another Wolf Cub was unacceptable, particularly a cub like Andy Carter. He had always been a little strange and talked non-stop, but no one could build like him. Everyone knew who would win the build-a-boat contest that was happening in a few days down at Alkaline Lake.

He was also quick to be kind. But Eddie didn't need kindness right now. He just wanted to be alone.

"Nothing." Eddie said, shaking his head quickly. "I'm fine."

Andy looked him up and down. "Well, okay…isn't Camp Red Rock amazing? I can't believe we get to boat and shoot and track and start fires…" Andy's eyes opened particularly wide on his last statement, sparkling with excitement.

Eddie nodded, his chin trembling only a little.

"But do you want to know the best part?" Andy looked back and forth, before ducking his head off the edge of the bed to check below. He popped up again before Eddie could blink.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure, I guess." Eddie couldn't resist edging forward. "What is it?"

Andy slowly opened his cap, which had been held tightly closed until this moment. And a frog leaped into Eddie's lap.

Eddie barely resisted the urge to scream. It was a fully grown male bullfrog, looking rather irritated that it had been removed from the rainy weather outdoors. It attempted to hop out of Eddie's lap, but Andy grabbed it quickly and attempted to put it back in his cap. The bullfrog let out a loud RIBBIT of protest.

Eddie and Andy both froze. But the cabin remained still and quiet.

"What are you doing?" Eddie snapped. "You're going to get us in trouble!"

"But…" Andy looked a little abashed. "I just wanted to remind you of home. It's a bullfrog, Eddie, see? We'll be back in real Bullfrog before you know it."

Eddie looked over at the green and brown struggling mass in Andy's lap. It was a bullfrog, wasn't it? "I guess…" he said reluctantly, before looking over at Andy's tentative smile. "But camp is still kind of scary. Do you know what we're doing tomorrow?"

"We're picking partners for the boat building," Andy said, his grin widening. He lost control of the frog, which hopped down from the bunk and headed out the door as quickly as possible, but Andy didn't seem to care. "Want to be my partner? Team Bullfrog?"

Eddie found a smile on his face too. "Yes."

Only one more mission to fly, and of course this was the one that went pear-shaped. Dixon took one look back at the parachute hanging from a tree as he clutched his ribs and prayed that he hadn't been the only one to make it out. He was pretty sure Bailey and Jackson had jumped ship before him, but Kline and Weatherby had been taking their damn time, and he hadn't caught any sight of the rest of the crew in the chaos.

He heard a rustling in the trees behind, and dived for the underbrush, his ribs screaming in protest. But getting caught by Germans simply wouldn't do. He peered through the branches of the scrubby bush and took a good look. The two men who came into the clearing appeared to be dressed in all black. So not typical Germans…Gestapo?

"Well, our flier friend was clearly 'ere," said one voice in a quiet undertone. "Where did he slip off to?"

These people were speaking in English. Were they trying to throw him off? Dixon dug himself further into his bush.

"Looks like he cut himself out of his parachute," said another voice. That was even stranger. Dixon could have sworn he'd heard it somewhere before. "Gee, this reminds me of back home. You know, when some of the neighbor's livestock would get out and you had to chase it around, and the cows don't know that you're friendly and just trying to keep them safe, and even if you try to explain it to them they don't really understand…"

"Carter, could you keep your mouth shut a bloody minute?"

That was it. Dixon burst out of the bushes, prompting the first figure to pull a gun and point it at him, while the other let out a yelp.

"Who are you people?" Dixon gasped, still clutching his ribs. "Andy, is that you?"

The moon picked that moment to helpfully break through the clouds, and yes, for crying out loud, it was Andy Carter, from Wolf Cubs and then Boy Scouts all those years ago. Sure, he wore his dark cap on instead of clutching a frog in it, and he had boot polish all over his face to hide the shine, but it was still Andy standing there in the middle of a German forest.

The first man hesitated with his gun. "Carter, you know this bloke?"

Carter took a closer look in the dark. "Boy, this is crazy! Eddie Dixon? Don't tell me you're our package?"

"He'd better be our package," said the first, who finally stowed his gun. "What else would he be doing 'ere?"

"I got shot down, if that's what you mean." Dixon shook his head, trying to clear it. Maybe this was a hallucination. Maybe he was in shock. "But forget why I'm here. What are you doing in the middle of Germany?"

The wind blew through the trees, and some branches creaked. Carter looked around warily. "Tell you what, we'll give you more details when we're back at camp. Our job right now is to get youout of Germany as soon as possible."

"You're sure this is our guy, right, Carter?" said the other man in black. "I don't want to have to explain to the Colonel that we brought him a mole."

"Nope. Newkirk, this is Eddie Dixon. We were in Boy Scouts together back in Bullfrog. Eddie, this is Peter Newkirk."

"Brilliant. Let's move, shall we?"

Sitting in Barracks 2 and clutching a god awful cup of coffee, Dixon shook his head in wonderment as rain pounded outside and various buckets clinked with the sounds of leaks.

"This is some operation you've gotten yourself involved with, Andy."

Carter nodded easily. "The Colonel is pretty ingenious. And we all have to do our part. These are good men to work with, let me tell you. Speaking of which, I'm sorry about your crew."

There was still no news about any of them. The other flier search parties had returned empty-handed, without even finding the destroyed aircraft. Dixon pushed these thoughts aside. He didn't know what else to do. If a tear or two slipped down his cheeks, neither man mentioned it. Carter, always the distraction, pulled out a deck of cards, offering.

The two men sat in companionable silence playing for a while, before a leak hit Carter on the head. Dixon couldn't help but laugh.

"A leaky roof, creaky bunk beds, and some interesting bunkmates. How different is this from Camp Red Rock, really?"

Carter chuckled. "You'd be surprised how often the skills of a Wolf Cub come in handy in a POW camp. Unfortunately, unlike Red River, Stalag 13 has no bullfrogs. Newkirk and his bunk are safe. From that, anyway."

Even with the lack of amphibians, a small piece of Bullfrog seemed present in Barracks 2 that night, and both men soaked it in as the rain pounded down.