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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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2012-09-14
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Kindred Spirits

Summary:

Sometimes circumstances occur which can bring the least likely of people together.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

I do not own Hogan’s Heroes or it’s characters. They are the property of CBS and Ryscher Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment purposes only, and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks were intended.

Chapter Text

                                                    Kindred Spirits


Chapter 1---Unwanted Visitors




To Kommandant Wilhelm Klink, the day had started off just like any other until his telephone rang. That was when his day, to him, took a turn for the worst. Now, as he sat behind his desk, his cheek resting against a clenched fist and staring into space, he waited for the arrival of the one man he somehow knew could save him. Right now Klink felt as if he had lost his last friend on earth which was strange when one thought about it as the only person he considered a ’friend’, was an enemy. Suddenly there was a light knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Klink mumbled not moving or bothering to look up at his visitor.

Opening the door, his pretty blond secretary, Hilda, stood in the doorway. “Herr Kommandant, Colonel Hogan is here to see you,” she announced, a worried expression on her face as she studied her boss and sadly shook her head.

“Good. Send him in.”

“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.” Hilda stood aside allowing the handsome American officer to saunter cheerily into the office winking at Hilda as he did so. He watched her as she retreated, closing the door behind her before turning and standing in front of Klink’s desk, offering a sloppy salute, then hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jacket.

“You asked to see me, Kommandant?” Hogan asked with a bit of a smirk.

“Yes, Hogan,” Klink mumbled still not moving or looking at the American. Hogan’s eyebrows arched upward.

“I’ve received happier greetings from my draft board,” Hogan replied hoping to at least get a rise from the German. There was none. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“Hrmph. Is something wrong he asks,” Klink said to the open air.

Shifting on his feet, Hogan inhaled and exhaled through his nose. “Well, it might help if you start from the beginning and tell me what’s wrong instead of staring at the floor.”

“I am talking to you.”

Hogan shook his head, then snapped his fingers several times. “Uh, Kommandant, I’m over here.”

With a deep sigh, Klink slowly turned around, straightened up in his chair, and looked at his American counterpart. “I need your help.”

“I gathered that, sir. What’s the problem? Ole Bubble Head at it again?” Hogan was ready for a retort from the Kommandant to his insult of the Fuhrer, and was surprised when none came. His eyebrows knitted together as he waited.

“General Burkhalter called. He’s coming here today and will be here for about five days to inspect the camp, look over the books, the usual. I need Corporal LeBeau to prepare special meals for him the entire time he’s here.”

“LeBeau’s time is valuable. I can’t just order him to cook five meals for every Kraut bigwig that shows up here, General or otherwise.”

“Hogaaaaaaaaaannnn!” Klink was really not in the mood for games today, nor was he in the mood for any of Hogan’s shenanigans; still, he knew he needed the American to have the diminutive Frenchman to prepare his exquisite meals. “You will cease referring to General Burkhalter as a bigwig.”

Hogan merely shrugged. “Well, he is kinda big and….”

“I don’t want to hear it! Now, what do you want in order to have you order LeBeau to cook several dinners?”

Hogan thought for a few minutes. “One extra hour of electric light and two extra slices of white bread per man during the General‘s stay.”

Klink’s jaw dropped at the American’s boldness. “Thirty minutes of electric light and no extra slices of white bread. Take it or leave it!” He figured Hogan would take the offer and at least get something as opposed to nothing. He was mistaken.

Hogan gave Klink a sloppy salute and started for the door. “No thanks, Kommandant.” He gripped the doorknob. “Before I forget, enjoy your take-out order from the mess hall. I hear they‘re serving sauerbraten tonight.” He started out the door.

“Hogan wait!” Klink held out an arm, palm facing the American. Hogan paused and looked back at Klink. “All right. All right. All right. One hour of electric light, and two slices of white bread per man during the General’s stay.”

“You got yourself a deal. I’ll speak with LeBeau.” Hogan realized getting what he wanted had been too easy. Closing the door, he approached the Kommandant’s desk, eyebrows knitted together. “Kommandant, I can tell something is wrong, now what is it? You’ve had Burkhalter here before and you haven’t been like this. I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re right. The General isn’t coming alone.”

Hogan suddenly chuckled as an amused grin appeared. “He’s bringing the abominable ice queen with him.” He saw Klink’s eyes shift upwards at him.

“It’s not funny. I need help. The General knows I’ve been seeing Bertha for several weeks. I suspect Frau Linkmeyer is upset about my relationship with her, and the General’s really coming here to break us up so I can marry his sister.”(1)

Hogan smirked. “I’d definitely say you have a problem. Wish I could help but I don’t know how I can.”

“You can and you will. You are hereby invited to join us for dinner every day the General and his sister are here so you can help me convince them Bertha and I are serious about each other.”

“Kommandant, I….”

“Consider that an order.”

“Well, since you put it so nicely I‘ll check my social calendar. I don’t think I have anything scheduled this week anyway.”

                                                        HHHHHHHH

General Albert Burkhalter sat behind his large mahogany desk reviewing and signing reports hoping to finish them as quickly as he could. He wanted to get everything done before he and his sister were to leave for Stalag 13. Truth be told, Burkhalter wasn’t really looking forward to his annual trip to inspect the POW camp for two simple reasons, putting up with Klink’s whining and boasting about his no escape record again, and tolerating the insufferable Colonel Hogan. Actually, when he got right down to it, he almost preferred putting up with Hogan; at least the man could carry on an interesting conversation despite his wise cracks, put downs, and arrogance. Whereas Klink could only discuss his favorite subject, himself.

It was after signing off on one report that Burkhalter put down his pen and began to rub his pudgy chin with a large hand as his thoughts turned to his sister, Gertrude Linkmeyer, and remind himself again exactly why he was bringing her with him this time and subjecting her to Klink.

He originally had planned this visit to Stalag 13 alone as he normally did, but then he had remembered what day was rapidly approaching since her husband Otto was reported missing in action at the Russian front over three years ago. It would have been Otto’s and Gertrude’s thirty-second wedding anniversary. And every year like clockwork, she became depressed when that day came around, even two or three days before. To the General’s thinking, he believed Otto Linkmeyer was more than likely deceased. So, after a respectable period of ‘mourning,‘ he had tried repeatedly to convince her it was time to remarry, but she stood fast to her belief that she did not share her brother’s belief about Otto, and showed no interest in anybody he had introduced her to during that time, refusing to remarry. In past years he had been home, and he and his wife would help her get through those days, but this time he couldn’t as Berta was away visiting relatives; so, he invited her to accompany him to Stalag 13 this time so she wouldn‘t be home alone. But there was a motive behind his visit other than to inspect the camp and go over Klink’s books, and that was to try and ’convince’ Klink to drop this girlfriend he supposedly had and marry Gertrude. And while he considered Klink not his idea of a worthy catch or to become a member of the Burkhalter family, perhaps seeing the bumbling, inept Kommandant just might cheer her up while he himself was busy.

Burkhalter didn’t care about this Hagenfassel woman, and figured if she really existed and dating Klink, she couldn’t possibly be serious about the man, and it shouldn’t be difficult to break them up and get Klink’s attention turned toward his sister. And despite how he felt about the man, he suspected there was some attraction on Gertrude’s part where Klink was concerned. So he swallowed his pride and would try some matchmaking during this visit. But first he had to check out Gertrude’s opposition and see just what his plan was up against, providing this woman actually existed or was a figment of Klink’s imagination. He was suddenly awakened from his thoughts by the ringing of his telephone. With a sigh, he picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.

“Burkhalter.” He rolled his eyes towards the heavens when he heard his sister’s voice. “Yes, Gertrude, I have not forgotten. I know we’re to leave at three p.m. for Stalag 13.” He shook his head. “No I don’t know if Klink will invite his lady friend. I suppose we will just have to wait and find out, won’t we? No, the green dress does not make you look fat.” He began massaging his forehead as a migraine was starting. “Then wear the blue dress. Bring both if you can’t decide. Gertrude, whatever you decide to wear you will look fine. This is Klink we’ll be seeing, not the Fuhrer. Believe me when I say he won’t know the difference anyway. Now if we are to leave on time I must return to work. Just be ready when I come to pick you up. Goodbye, Gertrude.”  Hanging up the receiver, the General ran both hands down his face. This was going to be a long five days unless he was lucky.

                                                       HHHHHHHH

When Hogan entered the hut, he found LeBeau, Newkirk, Kinch, and Carter all seated around the table. Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter were drinking coffee, while Newkirk was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers with a coffee mug beside him. Seeing his commanding officer, the Frenchman hurried to his feet and grabbing a mug from the table, filled it with hot coffee handing it to the Colonel as he sat down at the table with the others. LeBeau returned to his place.

“Thanks, LeBeau,” Hogan said before taking a drink and savoring the hot brew as it slid down his throat.

“What did ole Klink want?” asked Newkirk taking a puff on his cigarette, studying the Colonel’s face.

Hogan focused his brown eyes on the Frenchman. “LeBeau, Burkhalter and his sister are arriving sometime today and staying for five days. You are going to cook dinner for them during their stay here.”

“What?!” LeBeau’s mouth fell open and his eyes bulged. “I refuse to waste my culinary expertise on filthy Bosche, Colonel. I would rather serve them marinated dog food and call it beef stroganoff.”(2)

Hogan rolled his eyes as he remembered the hors d’oeuvres the Frenchman had made using dog food and only mentioned it to him after he had eaten one. He never mentioned it to LeBeau. “I would prefer not to eat marinated dog food for dinner if you don’t mind. I’m invited to join them for dinner the entire time they’re here. Besides, I got us one extra hour of electricity and two extra slices of white bread per man the entire time Burkhalter’s here. So no dog food. Understand?”

“Oui, mon Colonel, I understand,” LeBeau replied, disappointed. “No dog food.”

“Thank you,” Hogan said with a sigh of relief.

“How come the General’s bringing his sister with him, Colonel?” asked Kinch.

Hogan shrugged. “Who knows. Probably still trying to marry her off to Klink I guess.”

“Yeah, but isn’t Klink dating that Bertha Hagenfassel?” asked Carter, confused.

Before the Colonel could respond, Newkirk chuckled and took a sip of coffee. “Klink datin’ a bird won’t stop Burkhalter if he wants Klink to marry his sister,” the Englander explained to the young Sergeant. “Especially if the bloody General gives him a choice between his sister and the Russian front.”

“That’s why I’ve been invited,” Hogan explained wearily. “Klink suspects Burkhalter’s here to break up him and Bertha and wants me to help him convince him that the two of them are serious.” Hogan then took another drink. “The things I have to do for my country,” he added with an amused grin.

“Yeah, well, better you than us,” Newkirk chuckled. He then saw the expression on his commanding officer’s face change to a smirk. His own amusement suddenly turned to a frown. “From that look on your face I think you’re about to tell us we’re coming too.”

“That’s right. Somebody needs to prepare and serve the wine and food.”

“Charming,” Newkirk groaned. “Bloody charming.” He removed his cover and tossed it down on the table in annoyance.

Kinch’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked at Hogan. “Colonel, us having to be waiters tonight at Klink’s dinner with Burkhalter is gonna interfere with our plans to set the explosives tonight to blow up the ball bearing plant.”

Hogan sighed. “Not really. The timers are going to be delayed so whoever I send will be able to set them and be back here before Burkhalter arrives. We all know once the General arrives Klink will double the guards outside of camp meaning nobody will be able to get outside the wire. I just have to select two others to replace Newkirk and Carter.”

“Boy,” Carter mumbled. “What a time to have unwanted visitors in camp. Takes all the fun outta life.”

“You read me bored mind, mate,” Newkirk agreed. “I was lookin’ forward to gettin’ outta the house tonight.”

Hogan smirked as he looked at the two men. “What are you two complaining about? Newkirk, didn’t you complain to me last night when London gave us this assignment that you needed a night off from ducking patrols outside of camp?”

The Englander merely shook his head as he put out his cigarette. “That may be, Gov’nor. But all I have to say is that you picked a fine time to believe me.”

                                            HHHHHHHH

Hogan anxiously paced back and forth in his private quarters periodically checking his watch as he did so. He was impatiently waiting for his two men to return to camp from the mission. He was always a nervous wreck when any of his men were outside the wire without him, and although he was an expert at hiding his emotions from the men, they somehow knew to give the Colonel a wide berth when somebody was outside the wire, and especially in the daytime.Hogan checked his watch again for what felt like the umpteenth time. It had been almost four hours since Olsen and Garlotti left replacing Newkirk and Carter. He recalled standing nearby as the two men changed into Luftwaffe uniforms giving them their final instructions.“I want no detours, and no stopping to visit Frauleins,” he had said in his most authoritative voice, his eyes focused on Olsen solely. He noticed the Sergeant’s cheeks turning a slight shade of red. “Burkhalter will be here between four and four-thirty, and Klink will not only order a special roll call upon his arrival here, but I want everybody in camp when those explosives go off.”

“Yes, sir,” both men replied simultaneously.

“Good luck,” Hogan said as he watched both men, with canvas bags hanging from their shoulders containing the timers and the explosive packs, climb up the ladder leading to the emergency tunnel exit contained inside the tree stump.The ball bearing plant to be blown was three miles from camp and was nearly completed based on the intelligence they had, and it was imperative to destroy it before it was completed and fully operational. Hogan removed his crush cap and ran a hand over his thick black hair, then replaced his cap. After doing so there was a knock on his door. “Enter,” he announced standing beside his desk with his hands now stuck in the back pockets of his brown pants.

The door opened and Kinch walked in. Hogan looked at his face and could tell immediately that Olsen and Garlotti had not yet returned.“You okay, Colonel?” the radioman asked closing the door behind him. He watched Hogan shake his head and resume pacing.

“Kinch, I swear if Olsen has stopped to visit one of his many lady friends, by the time I’m done with him, being a private will seem like a promotion to him.”

Kinch chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest. “He and Newkirk do have a thing for the ladies, don’t they?”

Hogan paused his pacing and glared at his second-in-command. “You’re not making me feel better, y’know.”

“Sorry.”

Hogan looked at Kinch pensively. “Did you inform London of Burkhalter’s visit and that for the next five days we’re out of business?”

Kinch chuckled. “I told ’em. They weren’t too happy about it.”

Hogan smirked. “I’d be worried if they were.” He checked his watch again.

“Want us to go out and look for them?”

Hogan sighed. “Not yet. Let’s give it another fifteen minutes. If they’re not back by then, I’ll have somebody go out and look for them. Besides, soon you, Carter, and Newkirk have to set up for Klink’s dinner, and LeBeau has to start cooking.” He exhaled deeply through his mouth. “Here’s hoping nothing’s gone wrong and…” He was interrupted by his door opening and LeBeau looking in.

                                                     HHHHHHHH

(1) Bertha Hagenfassel is from The Big Broadcast, Season 6.
(2) The use of dog food on hors d’oeuvres is from That’s No Lady, That’s My Spy, Season 6.