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If You Want To Play Games, Okay...But I'll Win	By : WW2_Lover Category: G through L > Hogan's Heroes Views: 1043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of these characters, ANY part of this series, or make ANY money from Hogan's Heroes. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.

Chapter List
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Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.

Luftwaffe = The German name for their Air Force
Kommandtur = Commander’s office
Kommandant = Commander
Herr = Mister
Verboten = Forbidden
Schnell = Quickly/hurry up
Guten abend = Good evening
Nein = No
Bitte = Please
Gib mir einen guten Grund, warum ich dir zuhören sollte, wenn du mir gegenüber so respektlos bist. = Give me one good reason why I should listen to you when you are so disrespectful towards me.
Ich habe keinen guten Grund...zumindest keinen, den Sie für einen guten Grund halten würden. Und können wir wieder auf Englisch umsteigen? = I don't have a good reason…well, at least not one you'd think was a good reason. And can we switch back to English?
Ja = Yes
Dummkopf = Idiot
Reichsmarshall = Marshall of the Reich (Hermann Göring’s title)
Wehrmacht = The collective name of the German armed forces from 1935 – 1945
Führer = Leader (Adolf Hitler’s title)
Mein Gott = My God
Was ist es? = What is it?
Danke = Thank you
Wunderbar = Wonderful
Luft Stalag = Stalag is short for ‘Stammlager’, which is short for ‘Kriegsgefangenen-Mannschaftsstammlager’. It translates to ‘Air Force prisoner-of-war camp’
Kommandanten = Commanders
Frauen = Women
Gute nacht = Good night

Inside the Kommandtur…
At this point, Colonel Hogan was pretty sure that someone up there hated him. First he managed to cause himself three punishments, then Newkirk had, and now LeBeau? Oh yeah, the universe surely had it out for him.
He was sitting in Colonel Klink’s office, listening to the German ramble on about something. Yet Hogan wasn’t listening, nor had he been since he’d sat down. He had other things on his mind, like wondering like when Klink was going to scream at him for the LeBeau issue. And he already knew what would happen later on in Klink’s quarters when he got called in because of said issue.
Part of him hoped Klink would let this incident go, but Hogan wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that. He couldn’t even fool himself, and that was just sad. His backside tingled when he thought of the end result that always occurred. Somehow, he seemed to attract trouble like a magnet! Maybe Klink’s right…maybe I really am a troublemaker, he mused. Nah, there’s no way. The Iron Eagle’s just messing with me when he says that, trying to intimidate me.
The problem that the senior POW officer was worried about was a fairly big one. LeBeau had stolen some ingredients from the officer’s mess. Not that the Frenchman didn’t do that on a regular basis, mind you, but this was different. These ingredients had been something that were common elsewhere, but exceedingly rare in the unusually cold German winters…tomatoes. Hogan and his team had filched them out from under the Luftwaffe guard’s nose after Kinch had distracted the guard with some type of technical talk of radios and how they produced signals.
Okay, Hogan admitted that he didn’t have a clue what they’d been talking about. But the distraction had worked anyway. The American colonel and his men had enjoyed some spaghetti and red sauce made with real tomatoes! While LeBeau had complained about making an Italian dish, he’d relented after the three Americans in their little group admitted that they missed it. And as always, he took the opportunity to demonstrate ‘fine French cuisine’ to them.
No, the tomato theft itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was Klink had yet to summon him to the Kommandtur to discuss this, and that concerned him. Thanks to the Heroes’ coffeepot that resided in Hogan’s ‘office’, he had learned that those tomatoes were supposed be part of a special dinner.
The dinner in question was for General Burkhalter and a very special guest of his. Specifically, an old friend of the fat Austrian’s. That friend was a general, and he just happened to be a personal friend of Adolf Hitler as well.
Burkhalter, being the type of man that he was, saw his opportunity to show off by promising an excellent French dish made with very rare ingredients. Unlike the other visiting generals that had been here, Alois Dietrich was the equivalent of a four-star general in the US Army Air Force and outranked Burkhalter. In other words, he was technically both Klink and Burkhalter’s boss, and not a man the two German officers wanted to displease.
Not that Hogan had needed to eavesdrop at all, mind you. Of all people, Corporal Langenscheidt had told him later on that the fat general had looked utterly murderous at being embarrassed in front of his old friend. The German corporal had also said that Burkhalter had looked ready to shoot Klink then, consequences be damned. He also admitted that the reason he was the messenger was twofold.
The first reason was that Sergeant Schultz was busy elsewhere trying to placate General Dietrich with something else to eat that was just as good. And as the Sergeant of the Guard’s second-in-command, it fell to him to deliver such a message to the senior POW officer.
If there was one thing Dietrich and Schultz shared, it was a love of food. With both of them being somewhat of a food connoisseur, the two large men had found some common ground discussing different foods, their wives and military life…that is, after Schultz had figured out how to speak again in the presence of such an important man in the Reich.
The second reason was that Klink had done as Hogan expected: stammered out that he had no clue where the tomatoes had gone, since he hadn’t eaten them! None of his guards had touched them either under the threat of being transferred to the Russian Front, and he just didn’t know what could have happened to them.
After listening to the German colonel’s excuses, Burkhalter had thrown up his hands and threatened to have Klink transferred to the Russian Front, along with every other guard at Stalag 13 for being an accomplice to the theft. Yet Klink’s chicken streak had bought him valuable time, as it turned out.
Langenscheidt’s understanding of the situation was that Dietrich had definitely been disappointed about the lack of tomatoes that’d resulted in the missing dish. Yet he’d ordered a furious Burkhalter to stand down when he returned with Klink’s second-in-command, stating that there he would not be either killing or transferring the Kommandant of the most successful POW camp in Germany.
Naturally, Klink had fallen all over himself at this praise. He had beamed and thanked Dietrich repeatedly, with Dietrich waving it off absentmindedly. Smiling, he’d remarked to Klink, “What a nice man Sergeant Schultz is, and so intelligent too. You really should promote him, Herr Colonel.” Then he had left along with a slightly calmer Burkhalter, leaving Schultz smiling and Klink scowling.
Granted, Klink was a career officer by his own admission, which meant he was trying to climb up the ladder. Hogan could understand that. Hell, he could understand basking in the multiple opportunities to impress the brass. Yet what puzzled Hogan was why so many officers seemed to visit the camp instead of focusing on fighting the war that their leader had started. Though who was he to complain if the Germans couldn’t prioritize what was important? That was a benefit to the Allies, if anything.
Still, what he didn’t understand was what drew everyone to Stalag 13 in the first place. The only reason he could think of was that the German colonel’s ‘no escape’ record mystified the brass in Berlin just as much as it did everyone else. Either that, or Hochstetter’s claims of him being Papa Bear had gotten around. He knew that if it were the other way around with a German POW, he’d be curious to see how an ordinary prisoner of war could supposedly be the United States’ number one enemy. But –
The American’s thoughts were interrupted as Klink slammed his hand down on the desk. The loud sound made him jump as he became aware of Klink repeating his name in an irritated voice. Hogan blinked and looked at the tall German. He didn’t appear to be happy, since he wore a scowl that twisted his features unpleasantly.
“I’m sorry, what did you say sir?” inquired Hogan. He hadn’t meant to let his mind wander, and getting caught at it didn’t sit well with him.
“Colonel Hogan, have you heard a word I have said in the last few minutes?” The question wasn’t asked in a friendly tone of voice as Klink glared more fiercely at him.
Shifting in his seat, Hogan smiled sheepishly. “Um…no?” The thunderous look was enough of a reply for him, so he hastened to add, “But Kommandant, I –”
And that was as far as he got before the next words made his stomach clench. “You obviously have more important things on your mind at the moment, and therefore cannot focus on what I am telling you. Hence, we will discuss the current caper you have created later on this evening.” Klink gave him a nasty smirk, the one that said he meant business. “You know the routine by now, yes?”
“Now wait a minute, Colonel Klink! I protest that decision! I also request that you hear me out,” replied Hogan. To be fair, he was only stalling for time. He wasn’t sure what excuse he was going to give for completely tuning out the German officer, should he decide to honor the request. Fortunately for him, he was spared that indignity.
Raising an eyebrow, Klink asked him sarcastically, “Why? You have been blatantly ignoring me for the last fifteen minutes, but now you want me to hear you out?” Shaking his head, he added “*Request denied! Now get out of my office. I have work to do.” Saluting Hogan, he added, “Dis-missed!”
Feeling dread gather in the pit of his stomach but nodding anyway, the American forced a smile to his face. He saluted Klink – who was already absorbed in his paperwork again – and exited the Kommandtur.
Wonderful, he thought sarcastically. Another ‘discussion’ with Klink tonight, and I don’t even know why! Well, it was his own fault for not paying attention, he supposed. Sometimes, he really cursed his lack of attention span.

2200 hours, Klink’s quarters…
Klink gathered the chosen implement for tonight and made himself comfortable. In the spirit of his decision from their last discussion, he had left the coffee table pushed away from the sofa. It just seemed easier to leave it there than to keep moving it. In in his hand, he held a family heirloom.
The hairbrush had been his grandmother’s, but he had little use for it anymore. The tall German knew he was balding, because he wasn’t blind. To add insult to injury, Hogan used many opportunities to remind him of that…either in subtle ways by running his hand through his hair or just outright saying it.
The hairbrush was made of a cherrywood and oak blend, which made it both solid and gave it a nice dark red color as well. He smirked as he pictured its new use in turning his persistent troublemaker’s bottom the same shade of red as the hairbrush. The bristles themselves were of good quality as well, since they were strong and firm. Yet Klink wasn’t overly concerned about that aspect, since he wouldn’t be using that side. That side could do some serious damage, and that wasn’t his goal.
The cuckoo clock announced that it was 2200 hours as the bird cawed ten times in a row. Klink wondered if Hogan was going to be cooperative tonight as well. Perhaps if he was lucky, they had reached a new understanding in this journey. He admitted to himself that seeing the American act in such a way last time had surprised him.
And since Klink was certainly used to Hogan and his games by now, that was an accomplishment. He waited impatiently, waiting for the younger man to show up. The senior POW officer was normally a very punctual man. That was a trait the two of them shared.
But if there was one thing Wilhelm Klink wasn’t, it was patient. At 2210 hours (10:10pm) he grew annoyed. At 2220 hours (10:20pm), he was downright irritated. By the time it was 2230 (10:30pm), he felt he’d waited long enough. Robert Hogan would not get away with this! He stuffed the hairbrush under the sofa pillow on his side, then stood up. He would fetch his brat himself. Hell, he would drag him across the camp by the ear if he had to!
Normally such a thing would be Schultz’s job, but the German colonel was well aware of how friendly the fat sergeant was with the prisoners of Barracks 2. Seeing as fraternizing with the prisoners was strictly verboten, he really ought to do something about that. Yet Klink honestly didn’t care about it that much, so long as his ‘no escapes’ record remained intact and Schultz remembered what side he was actually on in this war.
Still, it also meant that he could count on Hogan managing to distract his Sergeant of the Guard or talk his way out of having to go with him. Either way, this was something Klink would apparently have go do in person.
Just as he was almost to the door, it flew open. Thankfully, the older officer hadn’t been standing behind it, or it would have hit him in the face. In the doorway stood Colonel Hogan, his face flushed. He was out of breath and had clearly run across the camp in a hurry. Jogging up behind the American officer was Sergeant Schultz. Despite being taller and having a longer stride, he evidently hadn’t been able to keep up. The big man was wheezing badly, so he’d be unable to speak until he caught his breath.
Instead, the Luftwaffe sergeant frantically pointed at Hogan, then his watch. He made a surprised face before pointing at Klink’s quarters. Then he pointed at himself, back to his watch, and shook his head. After that, he pointed at Hogan again, back to his watch, back at himself and finally at Klink’s quarters. He shrugged and a helpless look appeared on his face.
Klink pursed his lips as he considered what Schultz appeared to be trying to tell him. Charades wasn’t his preferred game, yethe did well enough at it anyway. And the unspoken message seemed obvious enough.
Hogan had noticed the time and was surprised that it was that late. He had then remembered he needed to come and see Klink at his quarters. He’d told Schultz this, who had replied that it was too late to visit Klink. Hogan had repeated that he was late, then taken off for where they all stood presently. Schultz had followed behind the senior POW officer, helpless to stop him…especially since he couldn’t catch the American! But at least he’d tried. That counted in Klink’s book.
Waving his hand, Klink said, “Yes, yes. I understand…I think,” he added. “I will ask Hogan if I am correct in my assumptions later on. But he has permission to be here tonight, even if he is a half hour late,” Klink said sharply. “Dismissed, Schultz!”
As the fat sergeant gave him a salute, Klink returned it before glowering at Hogan. “Get in here, schnell. You are letting all the heat out!”
He knew he sonded irritated, but he didn’t appreciate being kept waiting. The American colonel had better have a good reason for this delay!
“And guten abend to you too, Colonel Klink,” said Hogan sarcastically as he entered Klink’s quarters and closed the door. He had recovered his breath enough to be impertinent, it seemed.
“Whatever happened to basic manners?” the younger officer asked as he took off his bomber jacket and hung it up on the coat rack, along with his crush cap.
Raising an eyebrow as he attempted to keep his temper in check, the German colonel snapped, “They seem to have left when you forgot how to tell time, Colonel Hogan!” Then he walked back over to the sofa and sat down.
“I want to know why you think that you can keep me waiting for a full half hour past when you were supposed to be here. I was literally on my way to your Barracks to fetch you. Fortunately for you, you showed up when you did. If you had not, I would have drug you all the way over here from your barracks by your ear, you little brat!” Klink didn’t miss Hogan’s wince at those words. “And believe me, you would not have been happy with the outcome of such a thing.”
Forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t a good idea to antagonize Klink when he was here, Hogan snapped back, “I’m not happy with the results now, Kommandant!”
It was then that his common sense caught up to his mouth, so he slapped a hand over it. “Oops.”
The senior POW officer held up his hands as he began to walk over to the sofa, his movements deliberately slow. “Okay, hang on. That’s not what I meant to say!” In his mind, his common sense let out a loud sigh. Rob, do you forget how to use your brain when you’re in here or what?
But instead of being upset with him, Klink only nodded. A smile crept over his face. Yes, he was angry, but Hogan was giving him every excuse he could possibly need to spank him and more. And as an added incentive, he was digging the proverbial hole deeper and deeper.
“Really? I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Very well. I shall endeavor to do better.”
The smile morphed into a ‘nasty-happy’ grin. “I can simply spank you harder, longer and more often. That is not a problem, I assure you.” Even though Klink had no intention of doing the first two things, the threat successfully did its job.
The American officer paled considerably and shook his head frantically. “Nein, nein! Bitte, bitte nein!” he replied desperately. He wasn’t sure why he was pleading in rapid-fire German, unless subconsciously he thought that speaking Klink’s native tongue would gain him some leniency. That had been his intention when he initially greeted the older man, but that had been an active choice. His last words, however, hadn’t been one.
I’ve been a prisoner of war entirely too long if I’m subconsciously speaking German, he thought.
Now, normally Klink spoke in English when he talked to Hogan. After all, the American only knew a few words of German, while he spoke English fluently. Yet he knew the difference between when someone chose to speak a language and when it was done out of reflex.
And Hogan had done it out of reflex, as evidenced by his sudden loss of color. That had thrown the tall German for a loop and caused what happened next. “Gib mir einen guten Grund, warum ich dir zuhören sollte, wenn du mir gegenüber so respektlos bist.”
The older man blinked as he realized two things. The first was that he’d replied in rapid-fire German, and the second was that Hogan would have no clue what he’d just said. Deciding he’d better translate what his previous statement had been if he wanted to be understood, he cleared his throat. “I apologize. What I –”
“Ich habe keinen guten Grund...zumindest keinen, den Sie für einen guten Grund halten würden. Und können wir wieder auf Englisch umsteigen?” replied Hogan just as quickly as Klink had. His German accent was excellent, and the American accent had all but disappeared.
Klink knew he hadn’t just heard what he thought he heard. The younger man spoke German, and fluently? When had he learned to do that? Did he have a never-ending bag of tricks up his sleeve or what? “Ja,” he replied in shock, forgetting his English momentarily. “Where in the bloody hell did you learn fluent German?! I thought you only spoke a few words of it!”
Smirking, Hogan replied, “Language, sir.” His steps had all but stopped now. “I’m a quick study, so let’s just leave it at that.”
He had that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes now that the older colonel was so familiar with. It was the same one that both exasperated him to no end, but also made his life interesting. Too interesting at times, if he was being honest with himself. The look on Klink’s face had been priceless, and he wished he’d been able to get a picture of it to look at later!
Noticing that Hogan was literally dragging his feet, Klink lost the little that was left of his patience. “Hurry up and get over here! Delaying will not make things any better for you, but it might make them worse,” he threatened. He wasn’t in the mood for games, seeing as Hogan had already showed up a half hour late.
Which reminded him of a few things he needed to ask. “First of all, why were you late? I had to guess what Sergeant Schultz was trying to tell me via charades!”
Then the Kommandant repeated his earlier conclusion to Schultz’s miming to the American officer, ending with, “Is that correct?”
Hogan nodded. “Yup. I noticed the time and freaked out. I only told Schultz because I didn’t feel like getting shot as I was running across the camp. But I think I set a new personal record running though, because I sprinted the whole way,” he replied thoughtfully.
“I’ve never sprinted that long before. But it’s amazing what you can do when you’re motivated by fear and the thought of pain.” The senior POW officer gave Klink a significant look as he finally reached the sofa, hoping the other officer would get the unspoken meaning behind his words.
However, Klink didn’t seem to be getting it. “Fear? Pain? What are you talking about, Hogan?” he asked.
After a few seconds though, the light bulb clicked on in his head. Hogan’s words made sense now, and they also caused him to smile.
“Never mind, I see what you mean.” The tall German chuckled, amused by the American’s words. “You are very creative with your descriptions. Do you know that, my young troublemaker?”
No matter how often Klink called him a brat or a troublemaker, the nicknames still made Hogan squirm uncomfortably. He shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, dreading what he knew was yet to come.
“Sure, let’s go with that…sir,” he added hastily. He started to sit down, but the older man stopped him.
“Hogan, you know the routine by now. I know you do since you are not a dummkopf, so do not deny it. Remove your uniform trousers and fold them before placing them on the coffee table. Then lie over my lap.” The older colonel usually didn’t do that until the punishment was seconds away from beginning, but he was still annoyed about the earlier delay.
He knew it was important not to permanently damage the younger colonel, which meant he couldn’t spank him until the sun came up for his disrespectful mouth and attitude like he sincerely wanted to. Yet in his mind, a little bit of mind games wouldn’t go amiss. And Klink fully intended to play them tonight.
Two can play at this sort of thing, he thought.
Wait, what? thought Hogan.
This wasn’t how things normally went! Typically, he sat fully clothed on the sofa next to the German officer. At that point, they talked about whatever the problem was. He didn’t normally remove his uniform trousers until it was time for his punishment to begin. So, what was different about tonight?
Come to think of it, I still don’t know why he’s mad now! thought Hogan as he looked around the room. He didn’t see any type of implement nearby, not even the ever-present riding crop that Klink always carried with him.
Maybe he’s only gonna use his hand tonight! the American officer thought hopefully. Considering all the other things he’d had thrash his butt so far, Klink’s hand had been the least painful. Even if he’s got a really good swing and can land a pretty firm swat.
Hoping against hope that he was right, Hogan quickly unbuckled his uniform trousers and removed them. While he wasn’t thrilled about cooperating, it was in his best interest to not change Klink’s mind if those hopes were valid.
Even as he folded them, he still felt the need to protest for some unknown reason. “But why, sir? I mean, this…this isn’t what we…this isn’t our normal routine.”
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he managed to get the words out as he placed the folded trousers on the coffee table. Lying over Klink’s lap, he closed his eyes tightly in dreaded anticipation. Hogan didn’t enjoy any of what went on during these ‘discussions’, make no mistake. But if he had to endure it irregardless, he much preferred to hurry up and get his punishment over with than draw it out.
But the first swat never came. After about ten seconds, he dared to crack open one eye. Another ten seconds passed with no swats, so he opened both eyes.
What the heck? He craned his neck to look up at the tall German, who was smirking again. Crap. That’s not a good sign, Hogan thought.
“Um, sir?” he asked hesitantly. He wasn’t eager to start his punishment, but he wasn’t sure quite what was going on either.
Klink hadn’t missed the younger man looking around to see which implement had been chosen tonight, and now he was grateful he’d hidden the hairbrush before he got up earlier. It would make the mind games so much more fun for him!
“I am the Kommandant of this camp. I am also the one who is in charge here. Therefore, I decide what the routine is, and when it will change,” he replied simply as Hogan placed himself over his lap.
The older officer hadn’t swatted his troublemaker yet on purpose, despite really wanting to. The element of surprise was important for those mind games, and he didn’t want to lose it yet.
“Yes, Colonel Hogan?” he asked with false sweetness. “You had a question?”
“Yeah. Well, kind of,” Hogan admitted sheepishly as he turned his head away. “I mean, I’m here and…and all.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I…I was…aren’t you going to –”
But the American couldn’t even ask the question as his cheeks burned in shame. Oh, he so wasn’t a happy camper right now.
Either hurry up and punish me or let me go back to my barracks, he grumbled internally.
“Do not fret, my dear Hogan,” said the older man. “We will get to it soon. Do not worry.”
That said, he yanked down Hogan’s briefs rather quickly. Klink was thoroughly enjoying the other colonel’s clear nervousness at what was yet to come, as well as his embarrassment at feeling he had to ask for his spanking. Beyond a doubt, payback was a sweet thing indeed!
“If you think that you can just pull this kind of stunt and keep me waiting on top of everything else, you are dead wrong,” he added.
He was pleased to note that his senior POW officer’s bottom had completely healed from the last time. That was a good thing for two reasons. The first one was that it meant that he hadn’t done any permanent damage to Hogan, and the second one meant he was able to spank him more for his mischief tonight. Then he ran an elegant hand over the soft skin of the buttcheeks, feeling the muscles instinctively clench under his slender fingers.
“How about you start by telling me why you were so late?” Klink suggested. “You are normally very punctual.”
In addition, the tall German absentmindedly ran one finger in a small circle on the right buttcheek every so often. It wasn’t consistent, but the reoccurring reminder that he could begin the spanking at any time was unmistakable.
“I was breaking up an argument between Newkirk and LeBeau,” replied Hogan promptly, unwilling to further anger his disciplinarian. “Usually Kinch would handle that for me since he’s more level-headed than I am, but in this case he was involved in the argument. He took LeBeau’s side and Carter took Newkirk’s.”
While Hogan didn’t know what kind of game Klink was playing tonight, he wasn’t amused by it either way. And while it was sad that he just wanted his punishment to start already so that it would be over sooner, that was how he felt.
That’s because you’re losing it, Rob! yelled his common sense. He couldn’t deny that he liked the emotional release he always experienced afterwards, but the path to get there wasn’t an easy one to walk.
Nodding, Klink replied, “Is that so? Well, your men do have a habit of getting themselves into sticky situations, it seems. Just like their commanding officer,” he added. “So, what was this argument about?” he asked.
“It started out as the usual one,” said Hogan. “Newkirk instigated it by insulting French cooking. That wouldn’t have been so bad overall if that’d been all he said, because those two are always dissing the preferred foods of each other’s country. It’s a long-standing sore point between them, so I’m used to hearing it.”
He sighed as he continued on. “But then he insulted France in general and the French’s ability to use any sort of weapon in battle. Needless to say, LeBeau didn’t take it well.” The younger colonel also couldn’t help but tense up again as the slender finger continued to draw a small circle on his right buttcheek at random. “The ‘English cuisine is better than French cuisine’ argument might be an old and ongoing one between my two corporals, but I still don’t know what got into Newkirk tonight.”
What was taking Klink so long to begin his punishment, anyway? It was starting to really bother him. “I can even see why Carter might have jumped into it since him and Newkirk are best friends, but Kinch is my second-in-command and never gets involved in arguments. He’s the most levelheaded guy I know!”
Why was he even telling Klink all this anyway? Well, he did say you could talk to him if you needed to, whispered that annoying voice otherwise known as his conscience. He’s giving you a change to vent, so don’t complain about it.
“Anyway, I didn’t want the argument to turn physical. Therefore, it took me longer than I expected to solve it.” Hogan swallowed hard at what he was about to say next, since he had his pride. Not to mention that it galled him to have to apologize to Klink when he knew the older man would be lighting his tail on fire shortly.
“I…I apologize for being late, sir,” the American officer said stiffly. “I lost track of time, as I said before. I didn’t mean to insult you in any way.”
The German officer was happy about several things in that moment. The first was that his mind games appeared to be working, which he made a mental note of to remember for later. The second was that Hogan felt that he could open up to him, which was a good thing. A stressed out senior POW officer was something he didn’t need, since such things usually resulted in mass escapes. Last but not least, he was pleased at the apology for his tardiness that the younger colonel offered willingly. He might not have been happy about it, but he did it of his own accord. In the end, that’s what counted.
“I see. How did you solve it?” Klink inquired. The French were notorious for being a very patriotic people, so any insult to their heritage usually ended in an altercation.
“I pointed out that the world needs different types of food, since variety is the spice of life,” replied the American colonel. “Not only does certain food only grow in certain parts of the world, but not everyone likes the same thing.”
Hogan just shook his head at the immaturity his men sometimes displayed. “For example, you Germans have a thing for sauerkraut and sauerbraten. In the United States, it’s not a popular dish. The favorite food back home is generally a well-done steak with some French fries on the side. And besides that, everyone likes different things.”
His senior POW officer looked particularly satisfied with his cleverness as he spoke. “Finally, I told them that I’d toss them all in the cooler for a few days personally if they didn’t knock it off.”
A well-done steak? Disgusting. Meat should always have at least some pink to it, thought Klink. He blinked for a second, only to chuckle at Hogan’s final words. “You did not say that to your own men! Er…did you?” What is this war coming to?
“I sure did,” confirmed Hogan with a grin. “I told them that if I asked you for permission, I was positive that you wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re always throwing one of them in the cooler for some reason or the other.”
With a frown, the younger man added, “Well…not recently, I guess,” as he recalled exactly why he was here at the moment. “And I told all of them that usually one of them ends up there anyway when some of your brass visits Stalag 13, because it makes you look good.”
Hogan looked up at Klink again and gave him a cheeky grin. “Your comrades from Berlin spend more time here than they do on the battlefield. No wonder you’re losing the war,” he finished with a laugh, his current predicament temporarily forgotten.
Klink clenched one fist and swung his arm. “Mmmmpf! Insolent troublemaker!” He stopped drawing a circle on his brat’s buttcheek, opting instead to lightly drum his fingers on them. “Tell me Hogan, do you have any clue why you are here? Or were you too busy ignoring me in my office earlier?”
He wondered what the American would say, since it had been clear he’d tuned the German colonel out completely at some point. The question was, had he heard any of what he’d been told before that point in time? Maybe I can make him guess why he is here! It would be fun to watch him squirm a little, said the evil part of him. Frankly, Klink decided he agreed with that evil part of him right now.
Oh boy. This was Hogan had been dreading all day. He’d completely tuned the older man out from the moment that he’d sat down in the Kommandtur earlier, so as a result he didn’t have a clue why he was here. The messed up part was that he really was clueless, it wasn’t an act this time. And how was he supposed to answer that question with no context clues? Plus, he could feel the light drumming on his buttcheek, which was distracting.
“I grow tired of waiting, Hogan,” said Klink impatiently. “And I do not have all night.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! His hand struck the bare bottom in front of him three times in quick succession. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Might I remind you that you were the one who was late, after all?”
“Ow, ow! Hey, I already explained that,” complained Hogan. “They were about to get into a physical argument, and I had to break it up!” What was he supposed to say? He could think quickly off the cuff, but not when being spanked! Besides, he didn’t know what Klink wanted to hear or what exactly he was asking about. If he said something that Klink didn’t know about yet, he’d give the Kommandant more ammo to punish him.
On the other hand, if he confessed that he thought it was because of the stolen ingredients, that could end badly too. If Klink didn’t recall the incident, Hogan would be reminding the German of it…which would lead to a spanking. And if Klink did recall it, it would also lead to a spanking. Well, crap. What to do, what to do? Hogan thought as his mind raced.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Inform your men that they can argue on their own time,” replied Klink.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Not mine. And I am still waiting for your answer,” the older man added. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Damn, was this how the German officer was going to play it now? Recalling the last time he’d been here and pushed it too far, the American colonel wasn’t planning on pushing it again. Yet when he considered his lack of options, he supposed there was no harm in telling the truth for a change.
If nothing else, Klink could get mad about it, spank him for it and it’d be over with. There wouldn’t be any more waiting nervously on edge for that fateful call to Klink’s office. “Ow, ow! Because of the incident with LeBeau and the ingredients?” Hogan offered uncertainly.
The spanking stopped. “Are you asking me or telling me, Hogan?” Klink inquired. “Because if you are asking me, that would mean that you completely ignored me in my office earlier. Yet if you are telling me, then that means you admit to being in trouble yet again due to one of your men. So, which one is it?” Klink had an evil smile on his face. Let him wiggle out of that one!
Even though he wasn’t looking at him, Hogan could hear the evil smile in Klink’s tone and groaned. Either he’d lost his touch or Klink was quickly learning from him how to be devious. Either way, it wasn’t good. “I’m…uh, well you see…” He cleared his throat, trying to think how best to phrase this so it would end in the least painful way possible.
Getting irritated again, Klink grew tired of the games for the moment. He reached under the pillow and found the hairbrush. Making sure that he had a firm grip on the handle, he gave Hogan a single swat with it. Not as hard as he would later on, but enough to make it count. SMACK! “I am waiting.”
Hogan completely froze as he both heard the smacking sound and felt the swat. Whatever that thing was that had just smacked him, it felt heavy and kind of thuddy. A second later, he felt the first wave of pain ripple through his buttcheek. It wasn’t terribly bad, as it was equivalent to about ten hits of the riding crop. Yet it felt different, somehow. “OW! What was that?” he exclaimed as he tried to turn his head to see it, only to be blocked by Klink. “That seriously stung.”
“This time, you have to guess,” came the unexpected reply. “And no looking unless you want me to add extra swats to your spanking. I abhor cheaters.” He gave his senior POW officer another swat. SMACK!
“By the way, you still have not answered my question.” SMACK! The younger man currently over his lap would feel his bottom burning soon enough, though. That was something Klink could guarantee!
“Ow, OW!” was the reply as Hogan felt the…whatever it was…smack his butt twice more. He shook his head in disbelief at the answer he got to his question. Klink wanted him to guess what was being using to spank him? The older man knew very well that Hogan had never been spanked a day in his life until he arrived at Stalag 13, because they’d discussed it at one point.
So how in the world was he possibly going to figure this out? SMACK! SMACK! “OW, OWW!” He scrambled to gather his thoughts as his poor bottom began to notice the pain a lot more. The mysterious implement being used made it hurt a lot quicker than the other things he’d been ‘treated to’. SMACK! SMACK! “Wait, wait, just hang on a minute. I can’t think!” he said hastily.
Thankfully, the spanking stopped again. However instead of swatting the American with it, the German officer gently used the back of the hairbrush to glide over the slightly pink skin. “Answer my question first, figure out what the implement is second,” Klink said sharply. “And do hurry it up.”
Klink paused for a minute as he added, “Yet that is strange, since you seemed able to think well enough when I spanked you with the belt. Is that what you would prefer instead?”
Okay, now he had a priority order for answering Klink’s questions. He could do this! “In answer to your original question, I was telling you,” he began to say. Hogan could feel the mysterious thing gliding over the skin of his buttcheek, as if deciding where to strike next. “I was telling you I thought I was here about the missing ingredients incident,” he hastily finished.
Hogan also observed that whatever the newest thing to assault his behind was, it was smooth. But upon hearing the last question, he shook his head frantically. “No, no! No, I do not want the belt in any shape, form or fashion!” he confirmed hastily. From both his words and his tone of voice, there was no possible way the older man could’ve misinterpreted that declaration.
“Very good, Hogan,” said Klink in an encouraging voice. “Now, can you guess what I am using to spank your bare bottom like a naughty child?” He was thoroughly enjoying himself as he watched Hogan visibly squirm. He wasn’t sadistic by any means, but this he felt was justified for both ignoring him and making him wait unnecessarily.
If nothing else, Hogan could have asked Schultz or any other guard around to deliver a message to him, Klink, that he’d had an unavoidable delay. The German colonel knew Schultz definitely would have done it, and so would Langenscheidt. He’d seen the two guards interact with the prisoners often enough in a friendly way to know that much. “Are you sure about that? It did seem to work wonders on you and for you,” he taunted.
“Are you kidding me?” demanded Hogan, even as he blushed. “You know my parents never sp…punished,” he amended quickly, “me like this. How am I supposed to even try and guess what that horrid thing is?” His cheeks flushed even redder as he heard the last sentence that the older officer had spoken.
“I’m one hundred percent positive that I never want to see or feel a belt punishing me ever again. So yes, I’m very sure.”
Then he groaned and shook his head again. “You’re a terrible, wicked man, Colonel Klink. You’re playing games with me, and I don’t like it,” he finished with a huff and a pout.
Klink smirked, not missing his wayward brat’s mortification. “You are very clever, my little troublemaker. You can figure it out, I am sure.”
SMACK! SMACK! The Kommandant smacked the unruly American twice more with the hairbrush, still keeping the swats light. “And flattery will get you nowhere, my dear Hogan.” SMACK! SMACK!
“OWW, OWW!” replied the American colonel as the swats landed. Whatever this thing was, it was fairly small and smooth. Still, that wasn’t overly helpful. A lot of things were fairly small and smooth. Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t small at all. Maybe it was big and only part of it was being used. The possibilities were almost endless. He honestly didn’t know what it could be, which he hated to admit.
But what else was he supposed to do, exactly? Play the guessing game via spanking until he inevitably started crying at the end of it? And then possibly get another spanking a different day for not being able to guess the nature of the mysterious item correctly? He’d pass on that, thank you very much!
“Kommandant, I honestly don’t know what that thing is. Just please tell me,” Hogan said in exasperation. The pain in his butt wasn’t anywhere near the breaking point yet, but he definitely could feel the swats he’d gotten so far.
“Whatever it is though, it’s effective,” he remarked. Groaning, he covered his mouth with one hand, reaching out the other as if to snatch the words out of mid-air and put them back. Please tell me I only thought that last sentence and didn’t actually say it out loud. I don’t need to give Klink any kind of encouragement! he thought.
The answering chuckle informed him otherwise, though, so Hogan moved his hands. Now they covered his eyes instead, bringing with them blessed darkness. What kind of moron gives his disciplinarian ideas? Rob, you’re an idiot! screamed his common sense.
On his end, the German colonel was decidedly amused with the brat lying over his lap. Hogan was already complaining, and Klink hadn’t really even started spanking him yet! Watching the younger man try fruitlessly to take back something that was clearly only meant to be a passing thought, he took pity on his soon-to-be-sore charge. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he deadpanned.
Then he held the hairbrush so that Hogan could see it. “The chosen item being used tonight that ought to keep you standing up for a few days is a wooden hairbrush. It is made of a cherrywood and oak blend. And I intend to turn your bottom the same shade of red as this hairbrush.”
He twirled it in his hand as he talked. “It was my grandmother’s, and it is a family heirloom,” Klink said proudly.
Hogan considered the item he was looking at. A hairbrush? Well, that explained the smooth feel, the thud, and the perceived size. And it wasn’t bigger than a breadbox! Then he took a good look at the dark red color and sighed as pitifully as he could possibly manage.
“Sir, might I suggest that you save both of us some time by just shooting me now? It’d be a lot easier and less painful for me. After all, a bullet only hurts for a split second.” Okay, so he was being over-dramatic. But still, that thing really packed a wallop!
“Where would be the fun in that?” remarked Klink with a sigh. “Really, you are such a ham, Hogan! The hairbrush is not that bad once you get used to it. And I should know,” he added. “As I already stated, it is a family heirloom.”
“But I don’t want to get used to it!” said his troublemaker indignantly. “I’d prefer to never be where I’m at right now ever again!”
Hogan fell silent abruptly as something occurred to him. “You’ve been punished with it before, haven’t you?” he asked. “As a kid, I mean.”
Nodding, Klink replied in the affirmative. “Yes, which is how I know it will not permanently damage you in any way. But it will thoroughly toast your behind, and you may want to remain standing up for a few days until the pain fades away. Such is your punishment since your corporal decided to steal rare ingredients. The same ingredients that were to be used in making a special dish for a visiting general!” he finished.
“Great, just great. That’s such wonderful news,” said Hogan sarcastically. “I don’t even know why you still kept it, heirloom or not. It’s not like you have much hair left!”
Yeah, he wasn’t helping his case any. But to be fair, his case looked pretty bleak already. “Who cares if he’s a general or *Two-Ton Hermann himself? You’ve got more brass visiting you here than Hitler himself does in Berlin!”
Then Hogan sighed and added, “And what makes you think it was any of the prisoners that stole them at all, not to mention LeBeau specifically? Maybe it was one of your guards! You know as well as I do that Schultz will eat anything.” In his mind, he apologized to the fat sergeant for even tossing his name into this.
Klink scowled at the insult, giving the brat over his lap a firm swat on his butt in response. SMACK! “Hogan, I am warning you now…I am not in the mood for your insolence or your American sense of humor tonight. That is your first and only warning.”
The mere mention of Hermann Göring made him shiver. While Göring wasn’t inherently evil like Himmler, he still wasn’t someone to trifle with. “I will thank you to not refer to Reichsmarshall Göring in that manner, by the way. I do not insult Churchill or Roosevelt like that,” Klink pointed out reasonably.
“And while what you say about Schultz is true, I know it was not him or any of my guards. General Burkhalter gave strict instructions to all of them, stating if they so much as looked at those tomatoes they would have a one-way ticket to the Russian Front. And I did not touch them either. To be fair though, it was mostly because of those same orders,” Klink muttered.
“But I know the cockroach is your cook, because when Sergeant Carter tried to cook a meal before, he almost poisoned you and me!” He paused as he considered his next words. “Besides that, Corporal LeBeau has cooked for me when I have had visitors, remember? You have been there on numerous occasions, and LeBeau cooked the meals each time except for the aforementioned disaster. You ate with us, so you have tasted his cooking. So you would be a fool if you did not make him the one in charge of meals.”
Klink shook a slender finger as he finished his explanation, anger appearing again on his face. “By the way, that is exactly the problem…the general’s association with Hitler!”
Hogan decided not to argue with any of the other points Klink made, mostly because they were true. Instead, he focused his energy and wit on the last one. “OW! Okay look, if that general’s association with Hitler is a problem, then there’s a bigger issue at hand then that. I hate to tell you this, sir, but almost everyone in Germany’s got the same problem. And the Wehrmacht is a big part of it,” he added thoughtfully.
“You guys all fight for that would-be painter while he hides and does whatever would-be painters do.” He grinned as something occurred to him.
“Hey, you think if the Allies could somehow get Hitler admitted to that art school he wanted to study at, he’d call off the war and surrender?” Hogan asked brightly. “Then we could all go home!”
“Hogan, the problem is not that he supports the regime; the problem is that he is a personal friend of the Führer as well as General Burkhalter!” Klink snapped. “That man is very powerful, not someone you can just run roughshod over.”
As the American made his not-so-funny joke, Klink sighed. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “I warned you, Hogan. How many times do I have to teach you this lesson?” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Excuse me, but – OWW! – it was an – OWW! – honest question! You don’t need to get all huffy about it,” griped the American officer. “It’s not – OWW! – my fault – OWW! – that he can’t – OWW! – pick a career he’s good at! OWW!”
“His chosen career works perfectly fine for him, thank you,” replied Klink wryly.
Just how thick-headed was Hogan? For a brat that was currently bare bottomed over his lap, he sure had a smart mouth!
“Uh-huh…and that’s why the Russian Front is coming to you, right? I didn’t know they made deliveries,” quipped his witty troublemaker.
Klink didn’t bother to answer the snarky remark as he both picked up the speed of the swats and increased the force of them. Now he would truly begin Hogan’s spanking.

The not-so-fun main event begins…
There was about five minutes of nothing but the sound of wooden hairbrush smacking bare flesh. The only sound other than the ongoing spanking were Hogan’s groans and cries of pain.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWIE!” cried Hogan. Damn, that hairbrush really hurts!
Not that any of this was particularly pleasant, mind you, but there were apparently varying degrees of pain that different things caused. Again, he was grateful his parents had never spanked him when he was growing up.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“OWWW, OWWW, OWWWIE!” Although right now, he bitterly wished they had! Wait, what was he thinking? This wasn’t the least bit enjoyable! But wait, don’t muscles get used to exercising if you use them often enough? reasoned his inner voice. Maybe buttcheeks are the same way…if you get spanked often enough, it doesn’t hurt so bad? If that was the case, he was sure to have iron buttocks by the end of the war if this kept up!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWWW!” was Hogan’s only response to the current fire beginning to be lit in his rear end.
The swats were hard and with no mercy. There was also maybe three seconds in between swats; just long enough for Klink’s hand to quickly lift the brush and bring it back down again to smack his butt. Definitely not enough time for Hogan to brace for the next blow or tense his muscles. Overall, there wasn’t enough time to do anything except lie there and simply take it.
Oh, and kick his legs, of course. He wasn’t quite sure why he even bothered kicking, since Klink just pinned his legs anyway as he continued on. And he’d already discovered twice now that having his legs pinned only made things worse. It seemed to be an instinctive reflex to do so, however, and one Hogan dearly wished he could curb.
Well, maybe there was one thing he could do. The last time he’d tried to roll off Klink’s lap, his legs hadn’t been pinned. That meant they could get in the way or get tangled underneath him, right? Surely having one’s legs tangled would slow them down, or that was the logical assumption anyway. But now both of them were firmly locked into place in between the German officer’s crossed ankles, which meant that they couldn’t get tangled.
And said grip was only on his calves. But his thighs were still free! If he could twist his hips and move his thighs at the same time, in the same direction, Hogan could throw himself onto the ground and out of the way. That would get him out of that blasted hairbrush’s range.
Okay, so he’d land on his rapidly-becoming-sore butt. However, once he was down there, he could use his hands to help pull his lower legs free. Hogan knew he was strong, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him. It wasn’t a prefect plan by any means, but some plan was better than no plan. Unlike the last time he’d been in this position, he’d thought this over. He’d also studied the room well when he first got here, which was while he’d been walking so slowly towards the sofa.
And there was no time like the present, before the pain in his behind started to affect his ability to reason things out. He counted to three in his head before putting his plan into action. Which actually worked!
Well, sort of. He had successfully gotten away, but the movement hadn’t worked exactly the way he’d expected it to. That meant instead on landing square on his butt in a sitting up position, he hit the ground and sort of…bounced. His head hit the ground with an audible ‘thunk’ as his body slammed into the floor. The American officer let out a low groan as he sat up. Or attempted to, anyway. His legs were still pinned somehow, which made his movements awkward.
“Oww.” Damn, Klink must have really strong leg muscles to still have my legs pinned! thought Hogan.
“Robert! Are you okay?” gasped a shocked Klink as he simultaneously dropped the brush on the couch and released his grip on his troublemaker’s legs. What just happened? One minute Hogan was over his lap, yet the next minute he was on the ground!
“What did you manage to do now?” He held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he demanded to know, worry evident in his voice. He rose and pulled the younger colonel up off of the floor at the same time, using one fluid movement. If his brat had somehow given himself a concussion, Klink would feel terrible.
“I’m fine, sir. And you’re holding up three fingers,” said Hogan. If nothing else, surely he’d at least accomplished one goal…getting out of his punishment! That alone made the whole thing worth it to him. “Other than gravely miscalculating my trajectory, I didn’t manage to do anything,” replied his stubborn brat with a grimace.
The tall German was relieved to hear that Hogan was okay, even as the other officer’s last sentence sunk in. Gravely miscalculating his…oh, he has done it now! Klink thought angerly. He tried to escape from me! That little…mmmmpf!
Still, Klink kept this realization to himself as he let his troublemaker think that he was done being spanked for tonight. It wouldn’t do to give the game away after all, and he needed the element of surprise. “You are certain that you are okay? How is your bottom?” he inquired.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Hogan gave his butt a few rubs to get rid of the sting, which made him wince when he touched it. “It hurts a lot, but I’ll live,” he replied somewhat cheerfully. He gave Klink a half-smile, glad the whole event was over for tonight. Or so he thought, until he was proven wrong.
“Good,” was the clipped response he got from Klink. The serious tone of voice was the only warning Hogan got, and it made the alarm bells in his head start to ring. As it was, the warning didn’t come fast enough for him to do anything about it before he suddenly felt himself moving again.
No, no, no! he thought as the smile dropped off of his face. This isn’t the goal…this is the exact opposite of the goal! When had Klink pulled him back over his lap? For that matter, when had Klink even sat back down? As before, his legs were pinned firmly. On top of that, Klink’s non-spanking arm held him firmly in place by his waist. In this position, Hogan couldn’t escape again even if he’d tried.
For an older man, Klink was surprisingly quick. Something you already knew from before and should have remembered, Rob! he admonished himself. Clearly his ability to reason had already been affected when he made that stupid plan. Hindsight was, after all, 20/20.
“I am very glad to hear that, because I am not done with you yet. And you, Hogan, just made everything much worse.” He picked up the hairbrush again, his eyes blazing with blue fire from his anger. “Are you insane? You could have been seriously hurt!”
Oh, shit, thought Hogan as he looked up at the understandably angry German colonel. Klink looked as mad as he had the day he’d threatened to call up Major Hochstetter and hand him over to the Gestapo. And he knew from prior experience that look didn’t bode well for him. Generally, Klink was mostly all talk and idle threats.
Yeah, he’d tossed Hogan’s men in the cooler a few times. But he always let them out earlier then he said he would. Hell, he’d even tossed Hogan himself in there once! Although to be fair, the American had goaded Klink into it. That way, he’d have an alibi for his mission that day. But still, the German’s willingness to do such a thing at all should have been a clue to Hogan that his high rank didn’t make him invincible.
He’d managed to get away somewhat successfully, and for what? To end right back up where he started, only now the situation had taken a definite wrong turn. All in all, there wasn’t a positive outcome to this. When Klink picked up the hairbrush again, the younger man’s stomach twisted into hard knots.
The very sight made him gulp, because he knew for a fact what was imminent and how much it would hurt. The senior POW officer debated if he needed to throw up from the knots in his stomach before deciding that wasn’t the best idea. He could control the urge, since he didn’t need to antagonize Klink any more tonight.
“Wait, wait, I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to make it worse for myself, I promise! I swear I’ll be good! Sir, please don’t spank me anymore! Please!” Hogan’s voice sounded like a little kid as he begged for leniency, but he didn’t especially care right now. He had far bigger problems at the moment. The hairbrush had caused enough sting from the swats he’d already received. So he did not, under any circumstances, want to know what ‘worse’ felt like!
Not that his pleading did any good, as the words fell on deaf ears. Klink was now royally pissed off. How dare his troublemaker try a stunt like that? Hogan could have given himself a head injury, and those could be fatal if he’d hit the wrong spot! In addition to that, the camp only had a medic. And medics weren’t trained to handle something that severe, not the way a doctor was.
“Oh, I am certain that you are very, very sorry. And you will be even sorrier when I am through with you!” threatened Klink. With that said, he began to spank Hogan again.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“If you think we are done for tonight, you are wrong. In fact, you have just earned yourself extra time over my lap!” he yelled furiously.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW!” Hogan yowled. His attempted escape had been a complete disaster, and now he’d only made things worse. The fire in his bottom had started to fade somewhat from the few rubs he’d given it before, but it was quickly being reignited. Ironically, something Klink often said popped into his head. He wasn’t sure why he was recalling this particular quote, unless he considered that somehow it applied here.
“*There has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13!” Everyone here, from the prisoners to the guards, had heard the German officer say that often enough. Even Hochstetter had responded, “*Please, do not start that again.” in an annoyed tone on one such occasion.
It was then his voice of reason decided to show itself. Yeah, but that means nobody’s ever ‘officially’ escaped from the camp. It doesn’t apply to Klink himself! it said in a snarky tone. Oh, shut up! Where were you five minutes ago? demanded his common sense. And there went his inner monologue again, which was slightly concerning. Hogan had never considered himself crazy, but his recent habit of arguing with himself was starting to cast doubts in that regard.
“I hope you have realized by now, my wayward troublemaker, that you are going to have an extremely sore bottom when I am through with you. Just for that silly attempt to get out of your punishment, I am going to spank the living daylights out of you tonight until you learn your lesson,” the older colonel stated firmly.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You could have gotten badly hurt, and that is why. One would have to be completely mad to do such a thing!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
As he continued to punish his brat, the Kommandant thought he should clear up something else as well. “Yet you should know that even attempting such a stunt does not make me happy either.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“In addition to everything else, I will also make sure you never, ever, sit down again if you persist in your half-witted attempts to escape your spankings.” He made sure he stressed the words ‘never, ever’ as he continued on.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“*This is foolish!” he exclaimed.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” Klink was seriously starting to wonder about that. He could understand that a spanking was painful, but to do something like what Hogan had just done was idiotic at best.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You know how I feel about that idea!” The tall German would teach Hogan discipline come hell or high water, he really would.
“OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWWWW!” was the American’s only response. The was no ‘beginning to be’ regarding the fire being lit in his rear end. It was fully lit by then. And had Klink just said he’d ‘spank the living daylights’ out of him? He didn’t like the sound of that at all! The bit about ‘never, ever, sitting down again’ didn’t sound too good either, considering that the German had made sure to stress the words ‘never’ and ‘ever’. “OWWWW, OWWWWWIE!”
But Klink was still speaking to him. “I promise you, I will give you a spanking every day until the war ends if need be,” he threatened.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Is that what you need to help you sleep better at night and stay out of trouble?” the older man asked him in frustration.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“A continuously sore bottom?”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Just ask me directly, and I will arrange it for you,” the Kommandant said.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You do not need to test my patience constantly if that is what you need,” Klink added. “I would be happy to accommodate you.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
He couldn’t believe how stubborn his young troublemaker could be. He just hoped he was getting through to Hogan.
“OWWWW!” came the sorrowful cry from Hogan’s mouth. He’d better say something, or Klink would get the wrong idea from his silence. His men managed to cause him more than enough spankings in this case. So he sure didn’t need one every night! “OWWW, no! Don’t – OWWW! – do – OWWW! – that! Please! OWWWIE! I don’t want – OWWW! – that! OWWW!”
Why had he ever thought that trying to get away from Klink when the older man was busy lighting his tail on fire had been a good idea? Somehow, it had just now occurred to him that they would simply pick up where they left off. That lack of realization was costing him dearly now!
Well, duh. What, did you think that if you succeeded, you’d somehow get off scot-free? Geez, responded his snarky inner voice.
When it came to these ‘discussions’, Hogan felt like he had become an idiot. That disturbed him greatly. He prided himself on his abilities to both understand a situation and think well off the cuff, yet both of those abilities seemed to all but desert him when he was here.
Hmmm…a spanking every night for my little brat? Now that right there was a brilliant idea! Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Surely a spanking each night before lights out would do wonders to keep Hogan out of trouble, not to mention help him sleep better due to sheer exhaustion.
And it would cause permanent injury too if I did something this severe to him every day, he thought as he gave a disappointed sigh. Well, so much for that. In any event, Klink didn’t stop or slow down the punishment as he continued his lecture.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“If you really have so much trouble holding still over my lap, I can secure you with rope to the bed again. I do not wish to strike you anywhere but your bottom, and you are making that very difficult! “You could have gotten seriously hurt!” Klink yelled.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Hogan shook his head, remembering the last time he’d been tied to the bed with rope and why. He’d take his chances over Klink’s lap, thank you very much. “OWWWIE, no! No – OWWW! – rope! OWWW!”
The American’s behind was in absolute agony by now, and the familiar lava he’d come to know and loathe had arrived at the party. “OWWW, OWWIE, OWWWWWIE!” He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle, mostly because wooden implements seemed to sting a whole lot more then leather ones.
Klink shook his head in sheer exasperation. Unfortunately for the younger man over his lap, all of that frustration was being taken out on his rear end. And he wasn’t being gentle about it either, he was landing really hard swats. He was also quite sure that Hogan’s bottom would be sore for quite some time, since the skin was already the dark red of the hairbrush.
He had planned on spanking his senior POW officer a lot gentler than he was currently doing, as he knew that wooden anything did more damage. That is, until Hogan had decided to make his little escape attempt. The fact that he could have given himself a concussion or some other head injury didn’t sit well with the tall German. And as a result, he would make sure his brat didn’t sit well either. Despite everything, he really did care about Hogan.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You are acting like a naughty child right now. Even more so than you usually do, and naughty children need discipline! Such is the way of the world. Now, lie still and take your spanking like a good boy. Do not fight me on this, troublemaker.”
Klink punctuated every word of his last five sentences with a firm swat to the sit spots of Hogan’s bare bottom.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Do you understand me?” he demanded. “You are not allowed to injure yourself on purpose!” he said angerly. He would, of course, make exceptions for an accidental injury. Life had a way of doling those out, especially during wartime.
It was indeed irritating to be punished like a little kid, and even more so to be talked to like one. If that were all that had been going on here, Hogan could deal with that. He could handle a lot of pain. It’d all been part of his training for his mission, along with learning to speak German fluently. What he couldn’t deal with was the affection and worry that was in the German colonel’s tone, even if it were masked by anger or frustration.
Even if Klink didn’t think so, Hogan heard it clear as a bell. And as the older man had said himself, things had mainly gotten worse because he’d almost gotten hurt. Though of course, his attempted escape hadn’t exactly thrilled the Kommandant either.
But as always, it was the hard swats to his sit spots that did him in. He couldn’t even count how many of them he felt land there, but it was still far too many for his liking. Not that he liked any of them, mind you.
With his last burst of energy, he managed to croak out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m soooooorrrrry!”
That being said, the emotional dam burst, and Hogan began sobbing. The volume was reasonably low, but it was still easily heard.
His tears were genuine, and those of a very well-spanked little boy. Like it or not, that was what he felt like after he was spanked. It was also a claim his butt could definitely back up. And by the way, that was something else that irritated him. Hogan could feel the wave of emotions flowing through him, carrying him away like a stick in the ocean. All the tension drained out of him as well, leaving nothing but exhaustion.

Receiving quality aftercare…
As always, the older officer was paying close attention to his wayward charge. Therefore, he knew the exact moment Hogan had broken down emotionally. He dropped the hairbrush on the floor, since he wouldn’t need it any more tonight. Then he let his thoroughly chastised brat cry for a few minutes over his lap, knowing the American needed to let everything he was feeling out.
During this time, Klink rubbed soothing circles on his back as he always did after a punishment. “Robert, it is okay. You are forgiven, so try and calm down.” He looked at the bare behind he’d been disciplining and grimaced. It was bruised all over, just like after he’d been spanked with the belt. That hadn’t been his original intention. His original intention had only been to paint the skin of Hogan’s rear end a dark red.
It seemed that he’d gotten a little carried away, which made him feel awful. Apparently he cared a lot more about his senior POW officer and his welfare – both physical and mental – then he was willing to concede. What he did admit to himself, though, was that he hadn’t increased the strength of his swats until after Hogan had tried to escape from his lap. The fact that he’d very nearly gotten hurt had made the older man’s heart almost stop.
When he’d seen Hogan lying on the ground and heard the low ‘oww’, his mind had already been racing three steps ahead. He’d been trying to remember off the top of his head what barracks Sergeant Wilson, the prisoners’ medic, was in. All he knew for certain was that the American sergeant wasn’t a part of the tight-knit group in Barracks 2.
Also going through his mind at that time were what he could say to get Wilson out of the barracks to offer his commanding officer some assistance without arousing suspicion from the other prisoners. Not to mention how he would explain why Hogan was in his quarters so late and why he was here at all. To top it all off, by that point it had already been quite obvious that he’d been in the middle of being spanked on his bare bottom. There was just no excuse in the world that would explain that part away, no matter what he said or did.
Yes, the German colonel could simply demand that Wilson follow him and not ask any questions by throwing his weight around as the Kommandant of Stalag 13. He could order him not to talk about whatever he would see the same way. But the camp had a large rumor mill, and he didn’t need any more problems. Hogan and his men caused enough of those already! Luckily, it hadn’t come to that. His sly troublemaker had been unharmed.
Klink glanced down at Hogan’s butt again and shook his head. He would have to put some skin repair lotion on it like last time. The only problem was, said lotion was in his room and the patient in need of it was over his lap on the sofa. Normally he was a thorough sort of person; the type who was always prepared. Yet how did one prepare for something they had never perceived could happen?
No, he would have to get Hogan on his feet, stand up him and lead them to the bedroom. Or I should say the guest bedroom, since he will be staying the night again, thought Klink. He’d been on autopilot, rubbing soothing circles on the younger man’s back as he was lost in thought. And at some point, Hogan had stopped crying as well.
Which was a good thing, since now the tall German could get them to where they needed to be. He would apologize to his troublemaker for getting carried away and explain what had caused him to do so. Then he would put the lotion on Hogan’s thrashed bottom to help ease the pain, and he’d let the American colonel sleep in a soft bed for tonight. Everything would be okay.
“Robert? Robert, are you alright?” asked the German officer gently. “Robert, can you hear me?” There was no response, which wasn’t good.
Klink tried again. “Robert?” Still nothing. The room remained silent as a tomb.
Mein Gott, did I kill him? thought Klink in alarm. If he had, he would be the one to deliver the news personally to Hogan’s men. But he prayed with everything in him that he had not truly killed his senior POW officer. Because damn it all, he liked his witty, cheeky yet mouthy at times brat. The very same one who continuously made him smile, by the way. Even when he didn’t want to! No matter what type of mood he was in, the American always seemed to be able to make him forget his problems.
Klink didn’t know if Hogan knew he knew, but the tall German was well aware of who his close friends were. They were always around him unless he was in the Kommandtur or in here. So he would tell them what had happened first, and then he would let them decide his fate. And if they decided that they wanted him dead, so be it.
He’d just have take them all out of camp first. Without any of his guards, of course. That way, they’d know it wasn’t some sort of trap. That would also ensure that none of them would face a firing squad for his murder. Then he’d hand whichever of them wanted to do the deed his always-loaded Luger personally, and they could flee with the weapon for protection once he was dead. Even he couldn’t argue that a life for a life was an even exchange. And the fact that he knew they hated him would only be a bonus for the mismatched group.
He wasn’t thrilled about his possible date with the Grim Reaper in the future, either. But he would be a hypocrite if he didn’t take responsibility for his actions when he’d been preaching that to his troublemaker this entire time. He liked to think that he was an honorable man. And he also knew if someone had killed a close friend of his, he’d be the first one in line calling for their death.
Come to think of it though, he wasn’t a fan of cold-blooded murder. Or even suicide, if he was being completely honest. But if the American colonel was truly dead, he felt that Hogan’s close group of friends should at least have some closure. He owed them that much, minimally. And really, I am in the wrong military if I do not believe in cold-blooded murder!
Pushing those morbid thoughts out of his head, he focused on the situation at hand. First things first. Before he went and did anything stupid, he needed to find out if Hogan still lived. And yes, he already knew that if he got a confirmation that his brat no longer lived, his time left on this planet would be short indeed.
Though he honestly didn’t want to know for sure, he had to find out. So he touched the American officer’s back hesitantly, fully prepared for the worse-case scenario. And when he felt Hogan’s back muscles moving, he sighed in relief. He was breathing!
That was a good sign, as it meant his death could be avoided for now. Yet there was another one brewing, and that was the question of why he wasn’t responding to his name. As he pondered the strange scenario, he heard a small sound.
But what the heck was it? It was coming from Hogan, and…Klink groaned as it dawned on him. Somehow, Hogan had fallen asleep! That sound he had heard was a snore.
“Only Robert Hogan could manage to exhaust himself so utterly during a spanking that he falls asleep despite being in terrible pain…while still over my lap!” he muttered to himself, glad that there wasn’t something seriously wrong with the American. “Well, at least I am apparently very comfortable.” What am I going to do with him? Even asleep, Hogan manages to vex me!
Now he just had to figure out how to get the younger man standing on his feet, so that Klink himself could stand up. Hogan’s rear end really needed some of that skin repair lotion, which wasn’t going to happen so long as they remained here. And he could hardly ask anyone else to help him, which meant that this was a solo mission.
Even if it hadn’t been almost midnight, it would raise far too many questions that he couldn’t answer. And the tall German had no desire to drag Hogan’s name through the mud even if he did want to answer them. But he could do this. Well…he hoped he could, anyway.
Klink considered the options available to him, not particularly liking either one. The first option was to simply roll Hogan off of his lap, which wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t want to risk damaging the skin on Hogan’s buttocks any further, and simply hitting the floor with all of the American’s weight adding to it could very well do so. Especially since right now, he was essentially dead weight.
The second option was to sit the American up on the couch until Klink could get himself up, then sort of sleepwalk him to the guest bedroom. The German didn’t like this idea either, since it involved having the younger man sit on a very sore bottom. Even if it was only temporarily, that would still hurt like a bitch when his troublemaker woke up. But overall, it was easier to do, and the drop would be more of a controlled one.
His decision made, Klink got his hands under Hogan’s chest and pushed upward. After he had his brat lifted up enough to do so, he moved his hands so that one was supporting the younger man’s back and one was guiding his lower half. As the American officer was placed into a sitting position, the older man was finally able to stand up. And now that he was standing, he was able to carefully pull the senior POW officer up to a standing position.
Remarkably, Hogan was still snoring. “Incredible,” muttered Klink. “What a time to be a sound sleeper!” Still, he had managed to solve two problems: Hogan was off his lap and they were both standing up. Now he just had to sleepwalk Hogan to the guest bedroom.
Keeping on hand on the other colonel’s shoulder, Klink snatched up the folded brown uniform trousers. He tucked them inside his uniform jacket, the form-fitting material of it coming in handy for once since it held the trousers in place securely. Slowly but surely, he was able to guide Hogan to the guest bedroom. He maneuvered him so that Hogan lay on his stomach, with his head turned to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate. His head was on the pillows, yet Klink debated if he wanted to cover him with the blanket.
On one hand, it was cold and getting sick was a real possibility. On the other hand, he didn’t want the lotion to get on the blankets. It would be wasteful, and besides such things were getting harder to come by as the war raged on. Finally, he decided that blankets could be washed if need be. It was far easier to wash a blanket than to get some penicillin to cure an illness, after all. So after removing the younger man’s shoes, the German officer draped the blanket over him. Then he set the still-folded uniform trousers on the dresser and hurried to get the lotion, a blanket, and some rope.
After he grabbed what he was after in his room, he hurried back to the guest bedroom. He’d kicked off his boots and taken off his uniform in his room while he was there. Then he’d quickly put on his nightgown, his blue bathrobe with the gold eagle emblem since it was warmer, and his slippers. Klink already figured that he’d be sleeping in the chair in the guest bedroom unless Hogan woke up on his own before morning.
Not that he thought there was actually anything wrong with the younger colonel, mind you. He was probably just very tired. But he’d been punished with the belt before, which left similar marks to what Hogan sported now. And even then, he hadn’t passed out this quickly. Klink didn’t like this turn of events at all, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until his troublemaker woke up.
These were the thoughts that went through his head as he gently rubbed the skin repair lotion on the bruised skin. Since Hogan was still asleep, Klink was able to rub it all the way in without causing him immense pain. He was happy about that, because it meant the skin would heal faster.
After snapping the lid shut, he washed his hands and sat in the chair, putting the blanket he’d brought with him over his lap. Then he tied Hogan’s right wrist to his left one, turned on the light and read a book while he waited. In this manner, Klink would know if his troublemaker tried to roll over, and he would be able to stop it.

0130 hours, the guest bedroom in Klink’s quarters…
As the cuckoo clock read 0130 hours (1:30am), Klink felt a tug on his wrist. Then another, followed by a curse. Without really thinking about it, he replied, “Do not roll over! And watch your language, Robert.”
A part of the Kommandant was relieved as he set down the book he’d been reading. Then he eyed the clearly confused Hogan. “Ah, welcome back to reality, Robert. I trust I was comfortable enough for you then?” he asked dryly.
“What are you talking about, Colonel Klink?” asked the American officer irritably, the use of his first name escaping his notice. He was tired, cranky and his body ached all over. Needless to say, he wasn’t in the mood for riddles! “What time is it? Why are our wrists tied together? Why do I hurt all over? Why are you in a bathrobe instead of clothes? And where am I?” He looked around him warily. “This isn’t my bunk. It’s not even Barracks 2. What gives?” He knew he hadn’t been drinking, mostly because he rarely drank. And there wasn’t any alcohol in Barracks 2 right now anyway.
Klink had to bite back a smile. His brat sounded exactly like a pertinent child who didn’t want to get up for school! “First of all, it is now 0130 hours. As to your other questions, let me think,” he replied, pretending to mull Hogan’s questions over.
“Oh yes, I remember now. You were supposed to be here last night at 2200 hours for a ‘discussion’ regarding the cockroach and his ingredients theft, along with the accompanying punishment. Yet you were a half hour late because you had to break up some argument amongst your men that ‘would have gotten physical’,” Klink began.
He made air quotes with his fingers. “As a result, you admitted to breaking a new sprinting record running across the camp to get here. Oh, and you dragged Sergeant Schultz with you as well so you would not get shot for being outside at night,” the older officer said.
Klink could see Hogan’s eyes widening at these revelations, yet he continued on. “I am in my bathrobe and nightclothes because it is late and I am tired. As to where you are, you are in the guest bedroom in my quarters. You hurt all over since in the middle of your hairbrush spanking, you decided it would be a good idea to throw yourself off of my lap despite your legs being pinned by me previously. But you landed incorrectly and hit your head on the floor with a rather loud ‘thunk’ sound. I am sure that accounts for most of the pain you are feeling.”
The American opened his mouth to speak, but Klink held up a hand. “One moment. I am not finished. When you did that, you made me unbelievably upset at you for almost hurting yourself in a foolish attempt to get away from me. In return, I promised you that I would spank the living daylights out of you for it. I suppose that I succeeded in doing just that, since you fell asleep almost directly afterwards…still over my lap!” The German threw up his free hand in exasperation with his stubborn troublemaker.
“And I am sure the pain in your bottom accounts for the rest of it. Unfortunately, you upset me greatly with your careless antics. In turn, I went slightly overboard with your spanking. I thought you were badly hurt when you fell, and your head hit the ground that hard. And I was –” The Kommandant cut himself off, clearing his throat.
“Ahem. Anyhow, I needed to rub some skin repair lotion on your insolent behind, just as I did after you received the belt from me. But the lotion was in my bedroom, while you were still snoring away across my lap,” the German colonel explained.
The older man raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his senior POW officer, and paused for breath before continuing. “Therefore, I had to get you up so that I could get the lotion and rub it on your bruised skin. And obviously I could not call for any sort of help, since those circumstances would raise far too many questions for the both of us.”
“After some tricky maneuvering, I sat you up, stood you up, and sleepwalked you in here. After I got you lying down on your stomach, I went and changed, grabbing the lotion and rope afterwards. Then I applied the lotion to your bottom. Since you were asleep, I was able to rub it all the way in. You are welcome for that, by the way.”
The tall German rolled his eyes at the apparent soft spot he’d developed for his brat. “I took off your shoes as well and tucked you in under the blanket so that you would not freeze or get sick. I also set your uniform trousers on the dresser and placed your shoes are at the foot of the bed. Finally, I tied your wrist to mine so that I would know if you tried to roll onto your side or back. And I was not going to leave this room until you had woken up. Any questions?” Klink finished.
For once, Hogan didn’t interrupt the older man or make any smart-aleck comebacks. And for almost two full minutes after the Kommandant had finished his tale, Hogan didn’t say a word. His eyes were wide with wonder as he stared at the German colonel. That was the most incredible, yet weirdest story he’d ever heard. The older officer had done all that just for him? Since when did Klink care about him that much?
Okay yes, so he always made sure that the American had quality aftercare after a punishment was doled out. Klink also always made sure to calm him down and talk things over with him. In this way, the Kommandant was able to help him ‘center himself’, so to speak. But what he’d just heard was…well, nothing short of amazing. By now Hogan was seriously beginning to wonder if ‘brat’ and ‘troublemaker’ were the older man’s way of showing some type of friendly affection towards him.
It seemed odd to be sure, but then Klink himself was odd. A good example was the fact that he wore a monocle instead of glasses like everyone else who needed visual aids. Who wears a monocle anymore? Hogan thought. Above all, the re-telling of the events he’d apparently been asleep for just cemented his decision to come fully clean with the older colonel after the war.
Also, he’d noticed Klink cut himself off at one point about halfway through his explanation; what was that about? I’ll ask him in a little while, Hogan thought. First things first. He remembered everything that the tall German said, but he’d thought it’d just been his imagination working overtime. Apparently not.
Finally, the younger officer said slowly, “Ooookay. I remember all of that, but I thought I was just having some sort of weird dream. Frankly, I’m not sure yet if the fact that it wasn’t a dream is a good thing or a bad thing.”
The younger officer held up the wrist that was tied to Klink’s and did a quick calculation in his head. “That means I’ve been here for three and a half hours then. God, it always feels like an eternity whenever I’m here for these ‘discussions’.”
Hogan made air quotes as he said the word and sighed. “Anyway, can you untie my wrist, please? Don’t worry, I can feel the throbbing lava in my butt. Trust me, I’m not planning on rolling over onto it.”
Klink gave him a short nod. “Agreed, as long as you promise to sleep on your stomach tonight while you are here.”
At least Hogan didn’t have any memory loss, which was a good sign. He could understand wanting tonight’s events explained, given the unusual circumstances of Hogan thinking he was dreaming. For once, such a thing didn’t bother him as it normally would.
“Well yeah. After I’ve been here, that’s how I usually –” Hogan cut himself off, certain he hadn’t heard that right. “Wait, what? You want me to sleep here?” He had a confused look on his face now.
“Any particular reason for that, sir?” What the hell is Klink up to now? Hadn’t he been through enough for one night? The two of them weren’t exactly buddies who took turns having sleepovers, after all!
Shaking his head, the tall German replied, “You misunderstand me, Robert. I do not want you to sleep here, I am ordering you to sleep here. I want to make sure you do not have a head injury, despite the fact that you appear to be fine. Such things are not always visible, you understand. Therefore, you will stay where I can keep an eye on you for tonight.”
He glared fiercely at his troublemaker. “Or else we can begin round two of this until you fall asleep yet again. And I trust you remember the last time you instigated round two, hmmm?” he asked with a smirk.
“I would not wish to do that to you, Robert, as it would cause you extreme pain. But if you insist upon it, who am I to deny you?” He shrugged, sincerely hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. Mostly because I do not think I can follow through with that threat even if Robert pushes me to, Klink told himself.
Making a face and shaking his head, which was the universal sign for ‘no’ in case the Kommandant didn’t understand his answer, Hogan replied, “Okay, okay! I’ll stay.” Then he muttered, “You’re so pushy,” under his breath.
“You don’t need to baby me, you know.” Hogan held up the wrist with the rope on it. “So, uh…a little help here?” The hand that was tied was his dominant one, which left him at a disadvantage.
With a small nod, Klink undid the rope and freed their wrists. As Hogan stated that he didn’t need to be babied, the German sighed wearily. What am I going to do with him? His mulish streak is going to get him killed one day! “But you do…at least for tonight,” he said softly.
“Okay, what did you do to me exactly that’s so bad? I heard and understood the rundown you gave me earlier, but there’s still something you’re not telling me. So spill,” Hogan ordered, not caring that he wasn’t in any position to give orders.
“You said you didn’t really lose your temper until you thought I might have gotten badly hurt and you found out I hadn’t been. Besides that, you went to a lot of trouble on my behalf. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong,” the American officer added. “But it’s out of character for you.”
Raising his eyebrows, he asked incredulously, “Plus, you said I fell asleep…over your lap?” Hogan still wasn’t able to believe that part. “Are you sure, sir?”
Ignoring the fact that his senior POW officer was the one issuing orders this time, Klink looked the American in the eyes. “First of all, I am quite sure. You did fall asleep over my lap! Either I am incredibly comfortable to use as a mattress or you are just that comfortable in general with me.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “If I could explain this to you better, I would. All I can tell you is when you fell asleep, I did not know at first you were asleep. You were not responding to your name after I said it four times, and…”
He shook his head as he trailed off and looked away. “I thought you were dead, that I had accidentally killed you somehow,” he whispered. “And I felt simply awful. How would I ever explain that to your four close friends? How could I ever explain that to your four close friends?”
“My who now?” inquired Hogan. “What four close friends?” He knew damn good and well who they were, or at least he thought he did. But the fact that Klink knew it was news to him. After all, the other officer was rarely out and about around the camp.
Klink was usually in his office, doing paperwork or whatever else it was that he did during the day. He shrugged and added, “You’re comfortable enough to lie on, I guess. I was just fine over your lap until you started spanking me!”
“You know very well who they are!” snapped Klink as his gaze fell upon Hogan. His blue eyes simmered with irritation as they met the American’s dark brown ones. “Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau, Sergeants Carter and Kinchloe. Those four close friends.”
Why his smooth talking senior POW officer insisted on playing dumb, he didn’t know. Perhaps he found it entertaining? “If my lap is so comfortable, perhaps you would like to spend more time there in the future!” Klink threatened. Damn this insolent brat and his smart mouth!
Shaking his head, a wide-eyed Hogan replied, “Thanks, but I’ll pass on that.” His face grew thoughtful as he considered the older man’s words. “You could always send Schultz to do it,” suggested Hogan helpfully. “He’s your second-in-command, right?” In the US Army Air Force, a full colonel would have another officer as his second-in-command. So for a sergeant to fill that position instead was rather irregular.
Hogan supposed the Third Reich needed all the officers they could get elsewhere, and anyway Schultz was too fat to last long stationed at a fighting post. Not to mention that the sergeant’s gentle nature would quickly get him killed. Likewise, Klink could never fly for the Luftwaffe again since he didn’t have perfect eyesight.
The two made quite a pair when he thought about it. Sometimes he wondered how the two of them ever made it through World War One, since for all his bluster Klink was a gentle soul as well. Even if he’d been anything but gentle with Hogan’s rear end tonight!
“No, I could not. Not even if that is true.” Klink said. “I would never do that to Sergeant Schultz anyhow, as he is far too close to you and your men. The news of a prisoner’s death is the sole job of the Kommandant to deliver to his comrades, in any event.”
As he looked away again, Klink added, “That is information I would deliver to them in person, as well as in private.”
While he didn’t see it, he felt Hogan’s questioning look. So Klink added, “They could very well decide they wanted my life in return for taking yours. Even if it was accidental.”
“So…what then? You tell them that kind of news in private, they attack you and you shoot them for doing it?” asked Hogan indignantly.
Cocking his head, he asked, “What do you mean by that, sir? I mean, sure he visits us a lot. But isn’t that his job as your Sergeant of the Guard? Isn’t he supposed to keep tabs on us?”
Just how much had Klink noticed about them that Hogan wasn’t giving him credit for?
The German colonel looked like the American one had slapped him. What kind of man does he think I am? thought Klink sadly. Clearly, Hogan had a very low opinion of him! And God help him, but it really bothered him…even if he shouldn’t care.
“The exact opposite, Robert. As I already stated, I would tell them such a thing in private. But first I would put my Luger – fully loaded, by the way – where any of them could reach it. And if one of them should decide to shoot me, I would not stop them, nor call for help. A life for a life is fair.” Klink shrugged as if his possibly being murdered was no big deal.
Hogan scowled. “Yeah, and then they get killed for killing you to avenge my death.” He shook his head. “What a cycle.”
Klink bowed his head briefly in agreement with that last statement. “Well, not if nobody knew that they shot me. No one here would even notice I was gone.”
“Now what are you talking about? You’re the Kommandant here, everybody knows what you look like. How could anyone not notice you were missing?” Hogan didn’t know what drugs Klink was on, but he wanted some of them. They’d be useful to numb the pain in his behind if nothing else.
You really couldn’t miss the tall Prussian colonel! Klink always walked stooped over, wore a monocle and carried a riding crop under his arm constantly. Not to mention that he was constantly trying to keep any visiting officers happy, no matter their rank. And that went double if an officer belonged to the Gestapo or the SS.
Yet Klink just shook his head. “Robert, if I were to give your men such news, I would take them all out of the camp to do it. Then if they shot me, they could escape. And really, there would be no ‘if’ in that equation. I am certain one of your corporals would do it happily, as I know both of them have no love for my people,” he replied.
Hogan was in shock as he propped himself up on his elbows to see Klink better. He was still lying on his stomach, so it was strange to do. “And destroy your perfect record? Now who’s crazy? You tell anybody and everybody who’ll listen about it, so it’s got to make you proud somehow.”
The tall German shrugged and looked grim. “If I were dead, why would I care about such a thing? I doubt General Burkhalter would even care. I know he does not like me very much,” he added.
“I don’t think Burkhalter likes anybody very much. It’s probably part of his job description as a general to be a sourpuss,” Hogan added. “Besides if it makes you feel any better sir, he might not like you all that well. But he can’t stand Major Hochstetter at all. I’ve been in your office when they were talking and it’s really obvious,” he offered in an attempt to cheer the German officer up.
What the heck was going on here? Was he in a different reality or was Klink actually on drugs? He studied the older man for a moment, inspecting his pupils. No, he didn’t look high.
Maybe he’s drunk? Hogan wondered. Judging by their current conversation, it was a possibility.
But the Kommandant only cleared his throat as he removed his monocle and begin to clean it with a cloth he kept in the bathrobe’s pocket. “Well, thankfully none of that horrid scenario came to pass. You are alive, and that is what matters.”
Hogan didn’t like seeing Klink moody or upset, and right now he sounded depressed. While it was fun to mess with the other colonel as he did, there was a difference between being angry and being sad. The latter could potentially cause problems for the Unsung Heroes’ mission.
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, his conscience whispered. You like him well enough and you trust him at least a little, or you wouldn’t be here right now. Ugh, it really knew how to be annoying!
Putting his monocle back in his eye, Klink had to smile at the American’s attempt to make him smile, which succeeded. “Of course Burkhalter does not. Nobody likes the Gestapo, and the Gestapo does not like anybody in return. Now that I know is part of the job description,” he said. “It is quite plain to see to anyone with eyes.”
Hogan snickered at the unexpected response from the German. Who knew Klink had a sense of humor? “Trust me, I can believe that. I’ve been a ‘guest’ in their headquarters before I came here. They’re a nasty bunch. And by the way, that place is really morose. It’s all dark gray and black everywhere. I’m telling you, they seriously need a new decorator. Maybe one that’s not color blind would be a good start,” he replied.
The German colonel shook his head in amusement at the answer he got from his brat. “In response to your earlier question: yes, that is Schultz’s job to ‘keep tabs on you’ as you put it. What is not his job, however, is for my sergeant to spend half of his time either in your barracks or somehow right outside the door. It has gotten to the point where if I need him, I only have to look inside Barracks 2. I will either find Schultz in there or one of you will be able to point me in the correct direction.”
Though he tried not to, Hogan had to smile at Klink’s accurate assessment of Schultz’s whereabouts. The fat sergeant disliked everything about war and all his duties relating to it, so he made up endless excuses to visit Barracks 2. Oftentimes he would play poker with them, despite gambling being forbidden anywhere inside of Stalag 13.
As a result, Schultz lost a lot of his paycheck to them having fun…and they actually got money that wasn’t counterfeit! Sometimes he left his rifle behind as well, which meant he had to come back for it. Newkirk probably has custody of Schultz’s rifle more than he does, thought Hogan with a smile.
But he couldn’t tell Klink any of that. “Well, so? LeBeau’s a great cook, and Schultz enjoys good food. We can always count on him to eat any leftovers. I can’t speak for the officer’s mess, but the food we get sucks.”
“Schultz likes any food,” muttered Klink. But the tall German still rolled his eyes at Hogan’s last comment, which was a fair assessment.
The American colonel shrugged. “Besides that, we like the company and we get to hear the latest news. It’s not like you ever visit us,” Hogan pointed out.
“Robert, I have better things to do than fraternize with the prisoners. It is forbidden anyway, and regulations exist for a reason!” the Kommandant said. “Sergeant Schultz has more of a – ah, tolerant nature – than I do anyhow,” he said reasonably.
“Yeah, we all know Schultzie’s a big teddy bear,” responded Hogan with a grin.
Meanwhile, Klink briefly looked as if he was considering bending those regulations. “And somehow, I do not think your men would be too appreciative if I visited you anyhow. You may tolerate me, but I cannot say the same for them. So do not try and lie about it,” he warned. “Besides, I would think you already get your fill of harassing me during the daytime.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” replied Hogan cheerfully. “You’re right, they can’t stand you. But you could still visit with me! I’ve got my own little room, you know, and it’s got two bunks. We could always talk in there.”
The American’s cheerful tone switched to an insulted one as he talked. “Colonel Klink, I’m offended! I don’t harass you when I come to your office, I come to brighten up your day! Or possibly make it more interesting. It just depends on the day,” he added.
“You could do well to make it a little less interesting,” Klink remarked. Then he uttered a low growl of exasperation. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to visit you in your ‘room’ without going through the rest of Barracks 2? Your room is at the back of it, in case you have forgotten that.”
Now it was the older man’s turn to peer at his senior POW officer, the way Hogan had done to him earlier. “Are you quite sure you are alright?”
“Well, I don’t know! Climb through the window?” Hogan suggested. He shook his head in amusement. “I’m assuming you have the blueprints of all the barracks somewhere in the Kommandtur. Besides, you’re the Kommandant here, not me. Figure it out, sir.”
The American colonel grinned at the thunderous expression on Klink’s face, counting the seconds in his head until the older officer yelled his name like he often did. Any minute now…
“HOOO-GAAAN!” Klink shook his fist in the air. “I am not amused! But I am glad to see you have remembered that.” In a low mutter, he added, “Sometimes I wonder if it is true.” His last sentence was too low to be heard, but it was there.

Revelations occur…
Hogan shifted his weight slightly as he hung one leg off the bed and flexed his foot. The throbbing pain in his rear end began to pulse, and an involuntary “Owww!” slipped out before he could catch it.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you a question, sir.” His curiosity was killing him by now, and he wanted to know what Klink had stopped himself from saying earlier.
“That depends on what you wish to ask,” replied Klink cautiously. “I may or may not answer you.” As he heard Hogan’s cry of pain, he stiffened. “Robert, was ist es? Are you alright?” He stood up quickly, intending to help his obviously hurting brat.
Well, if he hadn’t guessed it earlier, now he was sure: Klink definitely cared about him. Or maybe he’s just feeling guilty about what he did to you, replied the pessimistic part of him. Hogan ignored it though, because his gut told him that wasn’t merely the reaction of someone who only felt guilty. And his gut was rarely wrong.
Then he waved his hand at the German colonel, who was standing there wringing his hands and looking helpless. “Would you sit down? I’m fine.”
“That is a lie!” Klink said as he pointed a slender finger at Hogan. He was still standing, his posture straight for once as he expressed his concern. “You are obviously not fine, Robert. It is clear you are in a lot of pain. I am just not sure what else to do for you.”
“Well, you could start by not punishing me the way you’ve been doing anymore,” Hogan shot back. “That’d help a whole lot right there.”
Sighing, his voice took on a serious tone. “Really, I’m fine. I just stretched my leg out too far, and it tightened the skin on my butt which caused a bolt of pain. Pain that wouldn’t be there if someone,” Hogan added as he glared at Klink, “wasn’t so thorough and meticulous in his self-assigned task.”
He waved his hand dismissively again. “Now would you please sit down? You’re making me a little nervous.”
Subdued at the true words, Klink immediately sat back down. He couldn’t deny that he was the reason for his troublemaker’s current predicament, but he still had to say something in return.
“Well, I would not have that task if someone else did not hold the double titles of troublemaker and brat,” he replied.
“Anyhow, of course I am thorough. I am that way in all that I do, you know. And I will continue to be so in the future when you cause any problems in my camp. You are not going to get out of this arrangement that easily. But it was an excellent try,” the tall German said to Hogan as he smirked.
Hogan was glad Klink was sitting down again. He wasn’t a man who was easily intimidated, but the combination of his throbbing rear end and Klink towering over him gave him cause for nervousness. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout and huffed, since he wasn’t able to cross his arms at the moment.
“Gee, thanks,” he grumbled. “I feel so much better now.”
“You are most welcome,” said Klink with a grin, ignoring the sarcasm. His brat acted like such a sullen little boy after these ‘discussions’, the resemblance to his nephews was almost eerie.
Actually, Hogan was more like a spoiled child who threw a temper tantrum because he didn’t get his way, then looked surprised when he was punished for it.
An accurate description of my brat, actually, thought Klink before he frowned.
When had he started thinking of Hogan as ‘his’ brat instead of just a brat? He shoved that thought away to ponder later. “You said you had a question for me?” he prompted.
The senior POW officer nodded as he considered how best to approach this. After mulling it over, he decided to go with being blunt. While not always the best tactic, bluntness had its uses. “Okay, so please don’t get mad sir. But –”
“Robert, any sentence that begins with ‘Do not get mad’ usually results in exactly that, especially when that sentence is coming from your mouth,” interrupted the German officer with a sigh.
He was slightly wary now, due to how Hogan had chosen to phrase whatever he was going to say. What was his troublemaker up to now?
“Sir, if you would let me finish my sentence I’d appreciate it,” said Hogan.
Klink nodded and the younger officer continued on. “Anyway, like I started to say: please don’t get mad sir, but earlier when you were telling me what happened, after you told me I hit my head you started to say something else. But you cut yourself off. You said, ‘And I was’ before you did it. What were you going to say?”
The American colonel gave the German one a sincere, meaningful glance. “Look, I’m not gonna tell anybody else whatever it is you say. If nothing else, I’d have to admit why I was here and what made you say it. And I’m definitely not doing that. But my curiosity is killing me,” he admitted.
A shudder went through him at the thought of having to explain this whole…situation…and the humiliation that would certainly follow that revelation.
Klink let out a long sigh. He’d been afraid Hogan would notice that, since his brat was a sharp one who noticed almost everything! It made him sad that they weren’t on the same side.
The older man was about to decline to answer the question when Hogan spoke again. He had to concur that the other colonel was correct; the question was, could he trust Hogan to keep his word?
Yes, his conscience whispered. Wilhelm, he trusts you or he would not let you spank him! And he would have to explain his part in all of this as well. If nothing else, you would not go down alone in this.
Well, his conscience made a good point. Deciding to risk it and hope the American wasn’t fooling him yet again, Klink spoke. “Earlier, I was going to say, ‘And I was worried sick about you.’ But I thought it sounded rather sappy, so I declined to state it,” he finally answered with a small shrug and a grimace.
Klink wasn’t one to get overly emotional, yet Hogan had managed to worm his way into the small group of people he cared for. And the fact that he managed to do that at all says something about your lack of friends, remarked the evil part of him.
There was a long silence for a few moments, and when he could bear it no longer, Klink spoke again.
“Robert, say something. Say something witty like you so often do. Anything at all,” he all but pleaded. Had his revelation been a mistake? And if so, how was he supposed to fix it?
“I was just thinking about what I could say, sir,” Hogan finally said slowly. “It’s an unusual situation we’ve got here. So for once, I wasn’t trying to mess with you.”
His brow furrowed as Hogan thought the situation over. “Look, I’m not the sappy type either. Usually, I prefer to leave that to the women. So I’m just gonna say this once. And then we can never speak of this again if you don’t want to. I’ll leave that up to you.”
Hogan smiled as he realized Klink thought he was witty! And why did that statement make him feel special? You don’t want to know, replied his inner voice. Not if you want to keep yourself in denial.
“Agreed,” replied Klink, far too quickly. “What is on your mind, Robert?” He was just grateful that they both seemed to be on the same page.
Sighing, Hogan told him. “I like you. Actually, I like you quite a lot, and I think you were right before. If we’d met outside of this war, we could’ve been friends. Good friends. And I trust you with my general well-being and safety, or there’s no way I’d be here, having these ‘discussions’ with you. If I even thought you were sadistic in any way, I would’ve told you to go to hell that first night and took my chances with Hochstetter. I’ve tangled with him before…he doesn’t worry me. To be honest, his temper actually makes him a lot of fun to irritate.”
He smiled sheepishly. “If there’s one thing you do really well, it’s standing up for me and my men. With anything else, I probably wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. But you’ve shown time and again you won’t let anyone mess with us. That’s enough for me to like you right there. I also really enjoy talking with you during the day, our spontaneous games of chess and just getting to know you a little. That’s all.”
Hogan’s cheeks flushed at the end of his mini-speech, which surprised even him. And there goes your last shred of denial, came that snarky inner voice.
“Language, Robert,” admonished Klink out of habit. He was taken aback by this declaration, since he’d just expected Hogan to say that he didn’t hate him and leave it at that. Not for the first time, his brat had managed to leave him utterly speechless.
“I…I do not know what to say to that. I mean, I know what I wish to say,” he amended, “but I am trying to think how to best phrase it.”
Groaning, he added, “Robert, only you would think it was ‘fun’ to antagonize a member of the Gestapo! Maybe not here, but you are going to get yourself killed one day with that attitude, do you realize that?” Klink inquired.
Hogan drummed his fingers on the bed, a smile on his face. “Eh, you’ve heard the old saying ‘The good die young’? I figure that’s where I’m headed,” he said.
He cocked his head and gave Klink an appraising look. “Just spit it out. We’re not ever going to speak of this again, remember?” the American colonel added. Now he was really curious to know what Klink was thinking!
“Yes, that is true,” sighed the tall German. “Alright then. I have not said this before, since it would be considered a crime in the Third Reich. But –”
“Look, just about everything is considered a crime in the Third Reich,” interrupted Hogan with a smirk.
He saw the glare he received, and his grin faded away. “Sorry, Colonel Klink. Please continue.”
“Danke,” replied the older man as he rolled his eyes. Hogan would be the death of him yet! “As I was saying, I would…I was…oh, forget it,” he said in disgust before throwing up his hands and giving up trying to phrase this delicately.
“I like you quite a lot too, or I would not invite you to play chess with me until late into the night. I enjoy getting to know you, learning firsthand about the United States and what life is like there. As you know, I have never visited your country. Even though I would like to do so very much,” Klink stated.
A wistful smile played across his lips as he pictured life in America. “From what you have previously said, your country is a democracy. It is a place where everyone has an equal say. That sounds simply wunderbar,” Klink said longingly.
The current regime was the exact opposite of that, and to live in a place weren’t terrified of their own police force sounded too good to be true! He couldn’t imagine willingly walking up to a policeman and asking for help without them wanting a heavy price in return. The very idea sounded completely absurd. If Klink did that with a member of the Gestapo, he’d likely either end up dead or blackmailed for something he hadn’t done.
But his smile soon faded away and he sighed. Something else that was true occurred to him as well. “I also would not let you get away with talking me into shortening any cooler sentences on behalf of your men. If it were up to me, we would not even have a cooler! I dislike it, which you know. That is the reason for our current arrangement,” he added with a smirk. “Any other Kommandant would have had you transferred to a different Luft Stalag a long time ago. The other Kommandanten are not like me, Robert.”
Grinning, the younger man said sassily, “You mean they don’t wear a monocle?”
Klink shot him a dirty look. “No! I meant that they are not as nice as I am.”
“That’s no lie. I’ve met some of them on a few occasions. Let me tell you, they were real jerks,” replied Hogan before he thought about it.
Realizing what he’d just said, he paled and gave Klink a panicked look. “Just forget I said that, okay?”
But Klink couldn’t do that, no matter if he wanted to or not. It was his turn for his curiosity to be nagging at him. He had to know! The scared expression on his brat’s face wasn’t helping to quell it either. “What are you talking about, Robert? How could you do that? The Gestapo said that they brought you straight here.”
Hogan’s expression changed from afraid to impassive, the same poker face he used when he got potentially bad news about a mission. “Would you believe that the Gestapo were nice enough to take me on a tour to see which country club I wanted to join, and I picked this one?” he offered half-heartedly.
Klink snorted, something he normally didn’t do as he considered it unbecoming to a man of his lineage. “No, if for no other reason than you used the words ‘Gestapo’ and ‘nice’ in the same sentence. And this is not a country club!” he added. “Just tell me the truth, for God’s sake.”
Yet the American was already shaking his head. “Afraid I can’t do that, sir. But I’ll tell you what: when the Allies win the war, I’ll tell you everything I know. And it’s a lot,” he added. “That’s all I can say right now.”
“When the Allies win the war? What makes you so sure that they will win?” demanded Klink. “Do you possess a crystal ball, perhaps? I shall have you know that our illustrious Luftwaffe –”
“– got the stuffing knocked out of them and fled like cowards in the Battle of Britain. And after they attacked Britain first!” exclaimed Hogan. “I should know, I was there.” He smirked at the shocked look on Klink’s face.
“It’s true. They just arrived in a swarm out of the blue and started dropping bombs everywhere. Fortunately, our boys got in the air quickly and took them out each time. But they attacked us first.”
Hogan couldn’t resist adding, “Your planes have a terrible turning mechanism, by the way. It took them forever to turn around. But the adrenaline rush from the battle was great!”
“I know they do,” replied Klink irritably. “The Luftwaffe engineers are working on fixing that.”
He was still shocked that Hogan had flown in that battle and not been shot down. While he’d obviously never seen Hogan fly, he had no doubt that the American was a talented pilot. General Biedenbender’s comments alone had proven that.
“Herr Goebbels told everyone that the English attacked German territory first, and that we were just defending ourselves,” Klink said.
“Seeing as England isn’t German territory and that the Luftwaffe landed the first strike, he lied,” replied Hogan matter-of-factly. “And if you’re talking about your Minister of Propaganda, you should have known better than to believe him. After all, that’s what propaganda is: a mix of truth and fabrications designed to fool the people.”
He shook his head sadly. “If your propaganda department is lying to their own people now, you have your answer on why I know the Allies will win the war. We have our own propaganda department in America, and I won’t deny it slanders the Axis Powers. But we don’t – and never have – lied to our own people. If things are going badly, we tell them what’s going on first. Then we figure out how to solve the problem. You can’t fix what you don’t know about, and a lot of people have had some pretty good ideas in the past.”
A thought occurred to him, and Hogan went deathly white. “Wait a minute…” He was horrified at what had just occurred to him.
Klink himself had gone deathly white. Goebbels had lied to the German people? He knew he shouldn’t believe the American officer, yet what Hogan said made sense. Too much sense. He noticed Hogan’s lack of color, and as he went to speak, they asked the same question at the same time.
“What’s wrong with you, sir?”
“What is wrong with you, Robert?”
The simultaneous sentence surprised both of them, and they both smiled as color returned to their faces. “You first,” replied Hogan. Was it his blunt informing the older man of the truth that had made him pale, or something else?
“Alright.” Klink swallowed hard as he struggled to express his thoughts. “When you said that Herr Goebbels lied about the battle, that means he lied to us. He lied to the German people.”
Hogan nodded in agreement, which resulted in Klink massaging his temples. He could feel a headache coming on from their discussion so far. “He has never done that before. And he would have no reason to do that, unless…”
He held his head in his hands, the knowledge hitting him like a sack of bricks. And he was glad he was already sitting down, because the truth was shown so clearly, he didn’t know how he’d missed it before. “Good lord, we really are losing the war.”
The tall German looked at his troublemaker, the only person who had been honest with him about the matter so far. Denial is both a wonderful and terrible thing, his inner voice said.
“I see why you think the Allies will win the war now,” he said forlornly. “But you understand I still have to pretend that I do not know this information. I still have to remain a loyal officer of the Third Reich in front of everyone else.”
He gave his troublemaker the side-eye, wondering what the problem was now. “So what is wrong with you, Robert?”
Hogan nodded, already having figured out that was the case. Anyone who didn’t appear to be loyal to Hitler tended to be shot or disappear, especially officers! “I figured that out already, Kommandant. Like I said before, anything said in these quarters stays in these quarters.”
As Klink asked his question, Hogan shook his head. “The Battle of Britain…did you fly in it? I know you were a pilot in World War One, but you said before that you flew in this war too. Tell me!” he demanded uncharacteristically as his stomach churned with despair.
Raising his eyebrows, the tall German shook his head. “No, I did not. My eyesight was already damaged by then, so I was grounded. I have been the Kommandant of Stalag 13 since mid-January of 1940.”
Inwardly, he recoiled at the unusual demanding tone Hogan had in his voice. He sounded…afraid? Why would Robert be afraid? he wondered. Klink decided to ask him, since he wasn’t a mind reader. “Why does that matter? What is wrong with you? Are you having a flashback? Do you need help?”
Instead of replying right away. Hogan lifted his arms and dropped fully back onto the mattress in relief. “Oh, thank God. Thank God,” he repeated.
He was relieved that his fear hadn’t been true! Realizing that the German colonel had asked him a question, he gathered his thoughts. “First of all, no. I’m not having a flashback. Heck, I’m right as rain now.”
The younger colonel was grinning ear-to-ear at Klink. “I’m just relieved that you weren’t there, because it means I’m not the one who shot you down and grounded you forever by ruining your eyesight.”
His grin faded as he continued on. “It also means I couldn’t have shot you down at all, since you were grounded by then. That’s a good thing.”
Klink looked at the American like he’d grown a second head. That was why Hogan was so worried? He was touched, even if it was a quite odd thing for his brat to be concerned over. “That is what caused your sudden pallor just now?” he inquired. “You were worried that you might have caused my eye injury?”
A prisoner of war is that concerned if he shot down his jailer? The world gets stranger every day, he thought.
“Yup,” affirmed Hogan with a small nod. “I’m glad I wasn’t the one to hurt you. As both a pilot and a prisoner of war, I know what it’s like to be shot down and grounded. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Sighing, Klink replied, “You are a strange individual, Robert Hogan, do you know that?” But he couldn’t deny that Hogan’s concern over if he had been the one to permanently ground him, Klink, was extremely touching.
“Oh, I already knew that, sir,” said Hogan with a smirk. “So, are you sleeping in the chair then? Because you don’t have to on my account. I’m not going anywhere at,” he checked his watch, “0230 hours. (2:30am) Wow, have we really been talking that long?”
“Indeed we have, my troublemaker,” murmured Klink, taking satisfaction in the embarrassed look on Hogan’s face. “Time flies, I suppose. And no, I will return to my room. You will stay here,” he added.
“There will also be none of your ‘monkey business’ as Schultz likes to call it…or there will be consequences that you will not like after you are fully healed! Do I make myself clear, Robert?” he demanded.
“Yes, Dad,” deadpanned Hogan. “I couldn’t do any ‘monkey business’ tonight if I wanted to; my rear end is still hosting the lava party. Besides that, I’d prefer not to be shot for being out at this time of morning. The night guards seem a little jumpy.”
Deciding to further elaborate, Hogan added, “The fact that I was running hell-bent for leather towards your quarters earlier probably would’ve made them nervous, if I hadn’t had Schultzie with me. I’m sure seeing me come from here at this hour would probably do the same thing.”
“Hosting the lava party?” repeated a baffled Klink as he stood up. Sometimes Hogan’s American sayings made absolutely no sense to him! “And that means what, exactly?”
Letting out a loud huff of annoyance, Hogan replied, “It means, sir, that my butt is on fire. It feels like I’ve sat in lava. It’s extremely sore, it’s throbbing angrily, and it feels like it’s swollen to at least twice its normal size. And I don’t even want to think about how it actually looks!”
His tone was sullen as he pouted. “Getting dressed later on is going to really suck the big potato.”
“Ah, I see,” chuckled Klink as he walked towards the door. ‘Suck the big potato’? His wayward brat certainly had a way with words!
“Well, try behaving for a change! Then you will not have that problem, correct? Try keeping your men under control as well, and you will experience what it is like to sit down again.”
His tone was a teasing one, which only served to make Hogan look even more sullen. “Drama queen!”
“Look, I’d like to see how you’d act in my place,” retorted the American colonel.
He adjusted the pillows as he prepared for yet another night of sleeping on his stomach. Hogan was normally a man who preferred to sleep on his back, but for the last four months he’d become a stomach sleeper thanks to Wilhelm Klink!
“By the way, Kommandant…you should know something about me. I mean, if you don’t know it already,” he added.
Klink was almost to the door when Hogan said that, the words making him freeze in place. Slowly, he turned around, almost afraid of what this new revelation would be. “And that is?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
“Relax, it’s a good thing,” replied Hogan. “I thought you should know that I always take care of my friends and those I care about. That means I protect them or die trying.”
“And why, pray tell, do I need to know that?” inquired Klink.
The edge was gone from his voice now. But he was still afraid to be hopeful, just in case his troublemaker didn’t mean what Klink was hoping he meant.
Hogan sighed. “Because, sir, it means after this war I’ll keep you safe. You, Schultzie and Corporal Langenscheidt, who’s also a decent man and treats us with respect. I can guarantee that you won’t stand trial for war crimes or anything else. Nor will any of you see any prison time. You guys might not be my friends, but you’re some of the people I care about. All three of you have done right by me, and I don’t forget that sort of thing. Ever.”
The senior POW officer laughed softly. “Just don’t tell any of my men I said that, because they’d throw a hissy fit. I think LeBeau and Newkirk might actually die of shock. That also means don’t tell Schultz or Langenscheidt. We all know Schultz is a blabbermouth, and Langenscheidt’s like the camp newspaper, so…yeah.”
Klink gave Hogan a puzzled yet hopeful look. That was excellent news, except for one slight snag. “How can you guarantee what the Allied High Command will or won’t do, Robert? Even a colonel is not all-powerful.”
He shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but do not make promises that you cannot keep.”
“Oh, but I can keep it, Kommandant. The Allied High Command will do anything I ask of them after the war. Let’s just say they owe me a huge debt and leave it at that. I’m a very well-connected man, Colonel Klink. I can either be someone’s worst enemy, or the best person in the world to have on your side. Fortunately for you, I’m on your side. Well, as much as I can be and still belong to the Allies,” Hogan amended.
He debated telling Klink he had very different plans in mind for him, but decided against it. It would only stress the older man out, and that didn’t seem fair to do to him right now. Klink had taken good care of him tonight, and even Hogan knew when he couldn’t push it anymore.
A smile crept over Hogan’s face as he considered the possibilities. “And I wouldn’t mind showing you the United States after the war is over. We can take a vacation and stay for a few weeks. Heck, we can even visit Palm Springs,” he suggested.
“And depending on the time of year it is, we can go to the beach! Lots of pretty frauen there in cute bathing suits there, and they go bananas for any type of foreign accent. They love military guys too, especially the high-ranking ones. You happen to be a military officer with a German accent. That means you’ll be a hit, Colonel Klink!” he said enthusiastically as he grinned. “They won’t be able to resist you.”
He actually clapped his hands in excitement, though due to lying on his stomach, it was hard to do. For once, he wasn’t trying to appeal to the German officer’s vanity. He actually believed what he was saying, because Hogan was something of a ladies’ man and knew what they liked!
“Come to think of it, they won’t be able to resist me either…I’ve got to have a German accent after being here for three years. Do I sound like a German to you?” Hogan inquired as he looked at Klink. He knew that complete immersion in a foreign country could change how you sounded and spoke, so he was curious.
Klink looked at his witty senior POW officer like he’d lost his mind. “You wish to go to the beach?” he asked, certain he hadn’t heard the American correctly. “In the cold? And you think there will be people out there in bathing suits in that type of weather?”
Perhaps Hogan had gone stir-crazy, because the idea was simply impossible. “Why in the world would anyone go swimming in the water when it is fifteen degrees Celsius (sixty degrees Fahrenheit) outside? They would get sick!” Klink exclaimed.
After rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea, the older colonel added, “No Robert, you do not sound like a German. You sound like an American, the same as you did the day you arrived at my camp.”
“Well, that bites. But hey, at least I’m still a veteran!” replied Hogan. “Besides, who could resist these good looks?”
He was silent for a moment as he considered the German colonel’s question. Then it dawned on him that German summers obviously were a lot cooler than the ones in the US. He had to chuckle as he cleared up the miscommunication they were having.
“Sir, your summers must be really mild here. In my country, the weather can get up to 130 degrees Fahrenheit – fifty four degrees Celsius – depending on where you are. But the average is around 104 degrees Fahrenheit, or forty degrees Celsius,” he explained even as he mentally did the conversions. “It gets really hot.”
The German colonel’s eyes went wide as he absorbed this new information. “That is not hot, that is the entrance to the devil’s realm!” he declared. “And we would be burnt to a crisp within the hour in the sun.” He did like the idea of pretty frauen hanging on him, though.
Klink had never had much luck with women. Why, he didn’t know. He’d always been a perfect gentleman, but they all seemed to shy away from him. So the idea of women who would all but throw themselves at him was very appealing. And the best part was that none of those women were Gertrude Linkmeyer!
“No we won’t,” replied Hogan crossly. “Don’t you guys have any type of sunscreen in this country? Surely you Germans have something you put on when you’re going to be in the sun a lot!”
“Sunscreen?” repeated Klink, not knowing what that was. “Ah…I do not think so.”
Surely he would have heard of such a thing if it were real, right? But he liked the idea of having a vacation and getting to see the country he’d heard so much about!
Sighing wearily, the American colonel said, “Alrighty then. Well, we’ve got it in the United States. It’s called Red Pet Vet, which is really similar to petroleum jelly. You just rub it on your skin occasionally, and it keeps you from getting sunburned. I’ll show you some day if you want,” he finished with a yawn.
Well, that had been a bewildering little speech! Klink wanted desperately to know just how connected Hogan was, but decided that in the interest of his sanity, he was better off not knowing.
Still, the American seemed very sure he could keep that promise…and Hogan didn’t seem like the type to make promises and break them. In that regard, he would take Hogan at his word and pray that he was telling the truth.
“Now, I need to get some sleep before roll call. At least the cold weather will help my butt cool off…even with clothes on,” Hogan grumbled. “Goodnight, Kommandant.”
As his brat complained about his bottom again, Klink had to smile. “Perhaps it will. Or perhaps it will be a nice hot day for a change. Then the rest of you could be warm too,” he replied teasingly. A groan was heard from Hogan as he added, “Gute nacht to you too, Robert.” Then he turned off the light as he turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him as he headed to bed.

A/N: The Battle of Britain took place from July 10th, 1940 to October 31st, 1940. It was the first battle that was fought entirely by aircraft and air forces. The combatants were the Luftwaffe of Nazi Germany and Corpo Aereo Italiano (CAI) on the Axis Powers’ side, while the Allies had the Royal Air Force (RAF) of the United Kingdom and the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF). The battle started because the Third Reich was trying to force a negotiated peace settlement from Britain, but it failed. The Allies made sure that the Axis Powers suffered heavy losses – far too many to continue – and they refused to fight any longer. So they withdrew from the battle, causing an Allied victory.
I’ve got no idea how hot the summers actually are or are not in Germany, but I took liberties for my story. I’m pretty sure nobody has a summer temperature of only 60 degrees! :)
While sunscreen was around before 1944, for this story only the Americans had it available to them. History states that a Florida airman and pharmacist named Benjamin Green invented the ‘Red Pet Vet’, which stood for ‘red veterinary petrolatum.’ It was a disagreeable red, sticky substance similar to petroleum jelly.
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