One More Try

A sequel to the episode "To the Gestapo with Love"

"Quiet!" Major Hochstetter bellowed as the three ladies kept on arguing and flying at each other’s throat.

A divine silence settled uneasily upon his office under his glare.

Then he started pacing. "I know who is responsible for this disaster," he muttered.

He could have said anything but that.

"Yes, she is!"

"No, you are!"

"She is! And you, too!"

"I didn’t say anything! You did!"

"You bitch, I was never alone with him!"

"Then how did he know about me, huh? You told him!"

"No, she did!"

"I did not!"

"Quiet!!"

Immediately the three ladies held their tongue again. Think what you like about major Hochstetter, but he did instill respect – if only by fear.

"I did not mean any of you – though this event only proves that women are useless in wartime."

Three pairs of eyes glared at him with fiery indignation. But he only had to glare back to keep them in line.

"The reason you ladies started fighting among yourselves can be summarized in two hateful words: Colonel Hogan." He practically spat them out. "He outsmarted the three of you: I warned you about him! But I already have a plan to break him that can’t possibly fail. A superb plan." His eyes went over the three ladies. "Fräulein Mannheim, Fräulein Baum, dismissed. This job is for Fräulein Wagner alone."

Both the discarded ladies scowled, and sent their former colleague a venomous glance before stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind them.

"So..." Hochstetter drawled. "I understand you were quite a favourite with this Colonel Hogan, weren’t you?"

Inge Wagner pouted. "If that’s what you care to call playing us off against each other..."

"But he spent most of the time with you, ja?"

"That is the truth."

"Gut. Then you will be taken back to the camp tonight. And here is what I want you to do..."

While the prisoners were lined up for evening roll call outside the barracks, Inge Wagner swiftly moved to the window of Colonel Hogan’s office in barracks 2. The shutters were closed, even though it wasn’t really dark yet. To keep the cold away? Or to hide whatever suspicious sabotage this sneaky American was planning?

With a knife she opened the shutters; the window caused her hardly any more trouble. After all, these barracks weren’t built to keep out intruders.

Quietly she slipped inside and closed the shutters and the window behind her. Then she turned around to take in the little room.

As her eyes adjusted to the minimal light, she noticed and dismissed several hiding places. Under the bed would be too noisy to come out. Under the table she would certainly be discovered. Behind the closet ditto. In the closet then? As long as there was no lock...?

Indeed, there wasn’t. Of course, there was always the possibility that he’d put away his clothes there. But one more glance around the room assured her that there simply was no proper hiding place. And time was running out!

Quickly she hopped into the closet and pulled the door shut.

And now all she had to do was wait. Wait until her prey had gone to bed and fallen asleep...

Sounds were muffled as the men came back into the barracks. Half an hour till lights out, she knew. And Hochstetter had ordered the silly Kommandant of this place to announce (but not have) a bedcheck every two hours, so the prisoners wouldn’t risk leaving their barracks for any "funny business" this night. And that went first and foremost for this attractive but detestable Colonel Hogan.

She heard the men talking in the common room. A pity the door was closed; it would have been interesting to hear what they were discussing.

The minutes passed slowly, with nothing to listen to save for the mumbling voices in the other room and the beating of her own heart. After all, what she was up to now was quite a bit riskier for a lady than the innocent games of their interrogation team. Still, anything for the Führer of course.

Finally the door to the office opened and she heard a few mutual goodnights. Then the door was closed, reducing the other voices to a vague mumbling again.

A sigh was heard; then the light on the desk flashed on. Through the cracks in the closet-door she could see the enemy officer moving around a bit. She couldn’t make out everything he did, but she clearly saw him put away a tin coffeepot. Figures: of course he – as an officer – would confiscate the good stuff from the Red Cross packages, letting his subordinates content themselves with that horrible Ersatz-brew.

She watched him as he finally sank down on the bottom bunk and buried his head in his hands. Hm, interesting. Would he be praying for the war to end soon? Or was this a sign that even this Colonel Hogan was human after all: that captivity was eating on him, no matter how well he managed to hide it during the day?

There was no time to ponder this now, for Colonel Hogan rose again and started to take off his jacket and his shirt. She tensed instantly: would he put them away in the closet, or...?

No. A careful sigh of relief escaped her lips: he hung them over the back of the chair. A pair of pyjamas as well as a robe were pulled out from under the thin grey blanket – "Trust men not to make their bed properly," she mused with a sigh, thinking back to both her ex-husbands with reproach – and a few minutes later the light was turned off and she heard him climbing up on the top bunk.

Hm. That complicated matters a little. Still, time enough to solve that problem; she couldn’t make her move until she was absolutely convinced that he was fast asleep anyway.

The noises in the common room began to die down, too. A last laugh, a last groan, a last goodnight. Then silence settled on barracks 2, and the real waiting game could begin.

A few times already she thought he had dozed off. But every time she started thinking about coming out of hiding to approach her victim, a sudden creak from the bed stopped her from attacking the guy just yet. It was almost as if he was toying with her. But he couldn’t possibly know that she was here. Could he? She hadn’t used any female perfume or odours today – just to be on the safe side.

But finally, finally he seemed to quiet down for real. A calm and deep breathing, no more sudden movements or pathetic sighs. She waited a few more minutes, listening intently to the quiet sounds of Colonel Hogan’s breathing and some distinct snore from the other room. Then she inched the closet-door open, slowly, to avoid all unnecessary noise.

Suddenly she prayed the door wouldn’t squeak. Hadn’t it squeaked when she hid in here?! She wasn’t sure; she couldn’t remember. But if it would...!

Slowly, oh so slowly she pushed the door further ajar, her muscles ready to have her squat down again at the first creak.

But there was no squeak or creak; she could slip out of the closet without any other noise save for the soft rustling of her dress. She closed the closet behind her and then stood listening again, holding her breath, ready to run at the very first sign of discovery.

But all remained peaceful. So carefully she slipped out of her slippers and tiptoed to the bunkbed. For a few moments she watched the enemy as he lay there, peacefully asleep. He seemed so friendly, so innocent, and yet she knew far better than that. What was a guy like that dreaming of: pretty Fräuleins? Or blowing up bridges?

Then she smiled her snakey smile, and stepped – as she had seen him do earlier tonight – up on the nightstand and hoisted herself onto the top bunk.

There was a terrible creak and she froze instantly. Would he wake up?!

For a frightful moment it seemed he would: mumbling something, and then turning around. But the unthinkable happened: his breathing resumed its former calm pace, and he just slept on!

She felt like heaving a huge sigh of relief, but that would be about the stupidest thing to do right now. Instead she eased down behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"And don’t fall asleep now!" she reminded herself forcefully in her mind.

Cautiously, one by one, she relaxed her muscles. Colonel Hogan mumbled something unintelligible, and placed his arm over hers. And she smiled. This was going well!

"Rob," she whispered in his ear. "Robert, it’s me. I’ve come back to you. I love you, Robert!" A soft kiss behind his ear, evoking a groan from her victim.

"Tiger..." she thought she could make out, and that name almost made her jump. Tiger?! Did this imprisoned American Colonel have contact with that notorious French underground-lady?! But that was proof enough in itself!

"You’re tickling me," it now came sleepily from the sneaky officer.

She "tickled" him again: stroking his black hair, and his neck and his shoulders. The softest touch made him shudder with desire: "Oh Tiger..."

This was it: this was pretty much the state she needed him in!

"Rob... that was a real good job blowing up that bridge the other day..."

"Mmm... why would I blow up a bridge when you are here? Zzz..."

"Because you’d want to thwart the German war-effort perhaps? Just like me..." The most seductive of voices, right next to his unprotected ear.

"Hm... that’d be neat... But I’d rather play with you... Zzll... My little Tiger-lady..." His hand moved towards her: "Come here and let me fondle you, Tiger..."

Inge tried not to start back when he caressed her backside in his sleep. After all, it was for a good cause, right?

"Where were you the other night? At the bridge? You weren’t in the camp, were you?"

"Mmm... playing chess with the Kommandant rrrzzzzllll..."

"And you did not leave camp at all?"

"Zzzlll... no escape from Stalag 13.... Ggrrrr... Klink is famous for it... zzz..."

"But you do want to escape, don’t you? With me? With Tiger?"

"Mmmm... I’ll come and get you, Tiger... Just wait till the war is over... zzz..."

He suddenly turned around, and with a swift movement Inge rolled off the bunk onto the nightstand and back on the floor, where she immediately squatted down out of the Colonel’s direct line of vision. She waited a few minutes to make sure that this Colonel Hogan slept on as he should, and then she tiptoed across the room and left through the window.

"Mission accomplished," she thought.

"Colonel." LeBeau popped in his head as Hogan sat perched over a few maps shortly after roll call the next morning.

"Yes?"

"Hochstetter just arrived. He went into the office."

"Hochstetter? Let’s listen in." Hogan set up the coffeepot while his men filed into the office.

They were just in time: "Major Hochstetter, how very nice to see you again! And Fräulein Wagner of course! I hope you slept well in my humble abode?"

"Klink, shut up!"

"Always so amiable, our little Hochstetter," Kinch grinned.

But LeBeau frowned. "Wagner...? That’s the name of one of those Gestapo girls from yesterday!" He looked at the Colonel. "Did you know she spent the night with Klink, Colonel?"

Hogan shook his head. "No, I didn’t. So let’s be quiet and listen what this is all about, okay?"

They recognized Hochstetter’s voice again: "Fräulein Wagner here has undertaken a very special mission: she interrogates suspected traitors in their sleep. That way they reveal all kinds of secrets without even being aware of it. So Fräulein, what did you find out?"

"I spent the night with this Colonel Hogan."

Gasps both in Klink’s office and in the barracks.

"Governor, why didn’t you say something?" Newkirk chided.

"I didn’t know." A slightly paling Hogan motioned for silence as the female voice – quite possibly the Gestapo girl’s indeed – continued.

"I prompted him in several different ways about the blown up bridge, but he neither confirmed nor denied that he was involved in that."

"Thank heavens," Hogan mumbled gratefully.

"He did however give very strong hints that he is involved with someone – a female – named Tiger."

Hogan closed his eyes.

And: "Aha!" from Hochstetter.

"Tiger? Who is Tiger, if not some exotic animal?" they heard Klink ask.

Hochstetter responded, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction: "Tiger is one of the main underground leaders of France, Kommandant. And if Hogan is involved with her, that means that I finally have the necessary proof that Stalag 13 is a hotbed of sabotage!"

"Uh uh, major: no one has ever escaped from Stalag 13!"

"I don’t care if this entire camp escapes!" Hochstetter shrieked. "All I want is to stop the outrageous sabotage rate in this area! Fräulein Wagner?"

"Jawohl, Herr major?"

"Tonight you will have another session with Colonel Hogan. You will try and pump him on his connections with this Tigerwoman and the underground. Tomorrow morning you will report your findings to me."

"But major, I’m sure the Geneva Convention..." Klink.

"I don’t care about the Geneva Convention."

"But is it ethical to..."

"Klink! Where the truth is concerned, I don’t care about ethics!"

"That’s Gestapo philosophy no doubt," Kinch observed.

And Hochstetter went on: "Tonight Fräulein Wagner will get Hogan to crack completely. And woe betide you, Klink, if you dare to interfere!"

"Yes major. No major. Of course, major. As you wish, major."

Hogan pulled the plug out of the coffeepot.

"Did you really sleep with that Gestapo girl, Colonel?" Carter inquired hesitantly.

Hogan sighed. "Apparently, yes. Though I never noticed it. Although I do remember..."

"What?"

"I woke up some time during the night in the middle of a dream – a dream that included Tiger – from a gust of cold air. Like someone had opened and closed the window. But I didn’t think anything of it and went back to sleep."

"That must’ve been her then." Newkirk pulled a face. "Sneaky bird: stealing romantic moments with the Governor, and at the same time pumping his subconscious to tell her all kinds of secrets!"

"What are we going to do, mon Colonel?"

"We can blow her up!" Carter suggested. "A little dynamite under your bunk and..."

"Wrong." Hogan shook his head. "This is still part of the psychological warfare they started, Carter. There are more subtle ways to get her off my back."

"How?" Kinch asked.

Hogan smiled. "By messing things up thoroughly!"

That evening, Hogan was very wary when he entered his quarters. It was quite possible that Miss Wagner was already there, and he had no wish to accidentally discover her. Instead, he changed into his night clothes and climbed into bed.

He made sure to move around and grumble a bit for good measure first; after all, most people don’t fall asleep the moment their head touches the pillow. But after a while he settled down in a comfortable position and forced his breathing to slow down, too. Still, his ears were on red alert!

And yes, after about fifteen or twenty agonizing minutes he heard a sound: the opening of a door. The door of his closet!

Carefully he peered through his eyelashes. Indeed, there she was: Fräulein Inge Wagner. Such a pity that so beautiful a girl could work for something as horrid as the Gestapo.

Calmly he shut his eyes again and awaited whatever was going to happen.

Slow, silent footsteps. A slight creak of the floor. And silence. The temptation to peek was almost too much to withstand, but he managed to keep his face totally relaxed as she apparently stood there looking at him.

Then: a definite creak of the nightstand, and hands that grabbed the sideboard of the bed.

"This is getting very interesting!" Hogan thought as she awkwardly but quietly swung herself up to his bunk. He felt how she settled down against him and relaxed, and then put an arm around him.

"Rob..." A seductive female whisper that would instantly have taken him to seventh heaven if it hadn’t come from the Gestapo. "Robbie, it’s me: Tiger!"

Robbie. No one had called him Robbie since he had left kindergarten.

"Robbie... remember that delightful night in Paris? Just you and me..."

"Mmm..." Hogan did his best to sound asleep. "You fool, you’ve never even been outside our Bridgeport neighbourhood. Don’t play the wise guy with me, my friend! Zzzz...."

A slight movement from the seductive lady. "But you must remember. You freed me from the Gestapo!"

"Grrrr... why would the Gestapo be interested in you? Zzzzz.... Just scratch them and they’ll let you go..."

"Because I’m Tiger, the leader of the underground perhaps?"

Hogan withheld a chuckle. "Zzzz... Tiger... underground... Since when do tigers bury bones?"

Silence. Clearly she had to mull that over. 1-0 for him!

"But we work together, don’t we, Hogan darling?"

Hogan nearly raised his eyebrows. Hogan darling?? Was this the horrible Marya?! But no, he decided: the accent was wrong. The voice, too. Must be coincidence.

What did she say again? Something about working together? Oh, yeah, no doubt! "Mmzzzlll... yes... perfect team... Grrzzlll... I buy the food, and at night you wriggle open the fridge and eat it. Perfect teamwork I’d say... zzzzlll..."

Silence. Then: "Tiger, what are you doing here? Zzzz... You know pets are not allowed in a POW camp. Klink could have you shot! Mmmm..."

He practically heard the wheels turn in Miss Wagner’s head, and happily added some oil to make them turn even faster. "Mm... yes, I love you, too. But stop licking me, will you? It tickles... zzzz... Ouch! And keep your claws to yourself! Zzzz... It’s too early to get up..."

Suddenly he turned himself over and wrapped his arms and legs around a suddenly stiffening Fräulein Wagner. "Major Hochstetter, will you marry me?"

An inadvertant gasp escaped from Fräulein Wagner’s throat.

"I know you hate cats, but I love you from the bottom of my heart," Hogan went on. "And hey, there is so much resemblance in character between you and my cat Tiger, that I’m sure you two will get along just fine."

With a muffled cry, Inge Wagner untangled herself and hopped down from the bed without bothering about the noise. Hogan opened his eyes just in time to see her plunge towards the window and opening it with shaky fingers. With a very unfeminine leap she jumped out, hastily closing both the window and the shutters. Followed by frightened footsteps running away.

With a grin, Hogan laid back on the pillow and folded his hands under his head.

"Good riddance."

"What!? This Tiger is a cat?!"

Hogan grinned by the coffeepot as he listened in on Miss Wagner’s report.

"Well, that’s what he said. But then he... he threw himself at me in his sleep..." Inge Wagner’s voice quavered.

"Yes, go on!" Hochstetter demanded.

A gulping sound. "He... he seemed ready to assault me, major. So I wriggled out of his grip and fled."

"Paah! Women...!" Hochstetter snorted. "As soon as the enemy dares to harm one hair on their head, they forget all about their duty."

"But major...!"

"I shall tell the Reichsmarschalk that this plan of his with the females is a complete failure. I told him women are only good for keeping house and raising a new generation of the Hitler Jugend, but he wouldn’t listen."

"That is not fair, major! What would you do if...!"

"Don’t bother me with fairness, Fräulein. You have failed, so you’re dismissed. Go home, marry and have heaps of kids; that’s a woman’s way of serving the Third Reich. I shall take these nightly interrogations into my own hands then."

"But major Hochstetter, Colonel Hogan thought that I was you when he assaulted me! And he wanted to marry you!"

Hogan’s grin grew with every second the coffeepot remained silent.

But at last, a very subdued Hochstetter croaked: "Perhaps we should let the matter rest then. And concentrate on rebuilding that bridge..."

And that´s when I woke up!

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