This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, locales, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

All original characters are the property of the author.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

Copyright: 2003. Lisa Philbrick

 

Hamelburg East Checkpoint
Hamelburg, Germany
January 31, 1944


Peter and Serilda reached the first checkpoint only twenty miles outside of Hamelburg. The barricade came into view of their headlights, as did the very light falling snow. The guard motioned for them to come to a stop and he walked up to the driver window.

"Guten Abend." Good Evening. "Heil Hitler." The guard saluted, seeing Peter's SS emblems on his collar.

"Heil Hitler," Peter returned. He handed his forged Soldbuch (Paybook) and Sonderausweis D (Special Identity Document D, D meaning Dienstreisen or Service Travel) to the soldier. The soldier looked them over, matched the photographs in them to Newkirk's face and determined them to be authentic. He handed them back to Peter.

"There is a storm expected this evening," the soldier said, looking into the car at Peter and Serilda. "I hope the Reichslieutentant and Fraulien do not have far to travel."

"I was not aware of the latest weather reports," Newkirk replied. Which was true, he wasn't. "Perhaps it will not be wise for us to continue," he said, looking at Serilda.

"We probably won't make it to Gottingen before the storm hits," Serilda said. She looked at the soldier. "Do you know of a place to stay the night?"

"Ja, about 5 kilometers down the road there is a turn off. Follow that road for about a kilometer and there is a Rasthof (motel) on the right hand side."

Serilda nodded. "Danke."

The soldier smiled and looked to his partner to raise the barricade. The soldier than clicked his heels and saluted Peter. Newkirk raised his hand and gave a nod. "Heil Hitler."

The car then cleared the checkpoint and disappeared into the dark.

 

Peter and Serilda unloaded their single bags from their car and walked into the two story Rasthof. The lobby area was small with a fireplace off to one side. The room was quiet, warm and inviting and they shook the light snow off their coats as they removed them. The woman behind the desk watched them and then smiled as they approached.

"Guten Abend," the woman said returning a smile. "The snow is coming, once again."

"Ja," Serilda replied. "It does not help the war effort any."

"That it does not." The woman flickered a glance at Peter, trying not to be daunted by the imposing black uniform of the SS. She was a loyal German, but she had her doubts as to how well the war was actually going.

"I beg to differ, my dear Schwester (Sister)," Peter said. "Our military forces are adapt to all weather conditions. There is no such thing as a bad weather for a good German soldier."

"Of course, Bruder (Brother), but the weather does not help us get to Berlin any faster."

"Das stimmt." That's true.

Serilda smiled and looked at the woman. "Do you have two rooms?"

The woman nodded. After they signed in, she handed them their keys and led them upstairs to their rooms. She told them if they needed anything they could call down to the desk and either herself or her husband would answer. She then wished them a good night.

"Danke," Serilda said. "Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht," Peter echoed.

The woman nodded and turned to leave. Peter unlocked the door to his room and put his bag down inside the door. He then came back to Serilda's room and peered in.

"Are you all set?" he asked.

"Yes." She turned from her bag on the bed and smiled. "Anjte was right, you do make a convincing German."

"I'm a showman." He grinned. "I figure we'll leave first thing in the morning, assuming we're not snowed in here."

Serilda nodded.

"Okay..." He was about to bid her good night when she said his name.

"Peter."

"Yes?"

She walked over to him and placed her hand on the edge of the open door. "I'm glad you were able to come with me."

He smiled and took her hand in his. "So am I." He gently kissed the top of it.

She giggled and he slowly let go of her hand, smiling at her. "Good night, Serilda."

"Good night, Peter."

 

Stalag 13, Barracks #2
February 1, 1944

The next morning, after roll call, Kinch received a message from the Underground in Hamelburg from Doctor Weinstein. He took the message up to the barracks and showed it to Colonel Hogan.

The other prisoners gathered around as the Colonel read the message. He then looked up at everyone.

"Newkirk's on his way to Berlin," he said with a sigh. "Begin the beguine...."

 

Muhle Rasthof (Mill Motel)
Outside Hamelburg, Germany
February 1, 1944

Peter and Serilda were not snowed in to the Rasthof and it only took them a few minutes to clear off their car. Traveling on the snow covered roads, however, was not as quick as the snow plows had not been through on the secondary roads yet. Once they reached the main road that would take them to Gottingen the road was clear and the further east they traveled the less snow that had fallen.

By mid morning, the clouds broke and the sun poured through. The pilot in Newkirk was encouraged, as such weather was always welcomed for a raid.

Serilda noticed him smiling. "It is pretty countryside, is it not?"

Peter paused, but his smile didn't fade. "I have to apologize. I was actually thinking of..." his voice trailed off. The snow covered fields of England he flew his plane over before heading across the channel came to mind. "...of home." He glanced at her. "Sorry. It is pretty countryside, and I hope the goddamn Nazi's don't ruin it."

She smiled. "It's okay, Peter. I have thought of home many times since I've been here." She looked out the window. "But this is the Germany my parents used to speak of and it is the scenery that gives me comfort. I find no joy in going to Berlin. The Nazi's have ruined that city."

"The Nazi's have ruined a lot of things for this country," Peter concurred. It wasn't until he met Serilda, that Peter started to separate the German nation from the current German government. Not all Germans were Nazi's. In the barracks, the collective use of the slurs of Kraut, Jerries and other words to describe any German, regardless of their allegiance to National Socialism were used freely and without regard. But after hearing Serilda's story of why she would leave a comfortable life in the United States and come to a country so choked with fear and repression, Peter began to understand patriotism on a deeper level. Serilda was part of a fight, not against her country, but against it's totalitarianism form of government that, granted, had rebuilt the German nation....but demanded the world in repayment for that deed.

Serilda had come to Germany in the mid '30's because she had heard of a secret resistance movement to try to thwart the Nazi effort. The risks were incredible but the ultimate goal, the obliteration of the Nazi regime, was what sustained them. On the surface they appeared to be loyal to the Nazi party, but they were quietly gathering information to help any future efforts of those who found themselves embroiled in war with the Third Reich.

At first it seemed like the rest of the world didn't care. Hitler took real estate in Europe without hardly a shot of resistance being fired. Appeasement and pacifism achieved "peace in our time" as the memories of the first World War were still, after twenty years, fresh in people's minds. Nobody wanted to end up in a Great War again. But for the people who came under Nazi Germany's influence, they only knew fear and repression. Things looked bleak.

Even after the war started in September of 1939, the mood remained bleak. Hitler's blitzkrieg warfare saw nations fall in less than year. Poland, Holland, Belgium, Norway and France. World domination looked to be within Hitler's reach.

But England refused to fall and her determined resistance fueled inspiration to the movement. Quietly they helped gather information to help the RAF bombers both in defending England and in their own raids over Germany. After the United States was brought into the war with the attack on Pearl Harbor, the resistance, by this point known as the Underground, began to see the distant light at the end of the tunnel.

"I did not leave the US because I did not like it there," Serilda explained to Peter once, "I left because my ancestral homeland and the country of my birth had to be protected. I am American and I am German, and one day my two homelands will be allies."

Peter respected and admired her patriotism.

"They will be stopped," Serilda said softly, keeping her eyes to the countryside. "They will be stopped..."

"You bet they will." He paused. "Have you ever been to England?"

Serilda shook her head. "I haven't. I would like to see it someday."

"When the war's over and the Nazi's have been obliterated, I'd like to give you the grand tour." He grinned. "Maybe celebrate the signing of the armistice with a round at a little pub in London. And you won't have to serve it."

Serilda giggled. "I think that sounds wonderful."

"Yeah..." Peter smiled at her. "I like the idea myself."

 

Stalag 13, Barracks #2
February 1, 1944

The snow fall at Stalag 13 was more than what Peter and Serilda had encountered and being put to work shoveling was a welcomed distraction, for Colonel Hogan at least. Despite being exhausted from pacing the night before and watching the snow pile up on the ground outside the window of the barracks, Hogan shoveled at a steady pace. It broke his concentration for a bit from all the 'what-ifs' and worst case scenarios running through his head. But once all the work was done, Hogan returned to his worrisome state.

Back inside the barracks, the heroes gathered around the old stove and table to drink lukewarm coffee and attempt to warm up. As the men chatted and bantered around him, Hogan sat at the table, gazing at the top of it, deep in thought. He trusted Newkirk's ability, there was no doubt about that. But he couldn't help but wonder if all this was just the tip of the iceberg to something bigger. What bothered him more, was that he couldn't figure out what that bigger thing could possibly be. He couldn't help but wonder if he and Newkirk and everyone else were walking blindly into a trap.

His thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of the coffee pot hovering over his cup. He looked up as Kinch poured a fresh cup and he noticed Carter and LeBeau were regarding him curiously.

"Thanks, Kinch."

"You're worried about Newkirk aren't you sir?" Carter asked.

Hogan nodded and sighed. "Yeah. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something more to this. Something worse." He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it's because I can't make heads or tails out of what we've got already. There's an answer in Berlin, but I'm not so sure I'm going to like it."

"I've got the feeling we're not going to like the question either," Kinch said.

"Exactly. And this sitting around waiting is going to drive me nuts."

 

Gottingen, Germany
February 1, 1944

Twenty miles west of Gottingen, Peter and Serilda came to another checkpoint. The guards respectfully saluted Peter and found his documents to be in order, letting him and Serilda pass through with no hassle. They would pass through the city of Gottingen and two check points east of Gottingen with no problems. The closer they got to Berlin, the more scrutiny they started getting from the checkpoint guards.

"Guten Tag," the soldier said, peering into the window. "Would you step out of the car please? Fraulien?"

Peter glanced at Serilda and they stepped out of the car. One of the other guards came to flank Serilda.

Peter saw this and looked at the guard near him. "And the purpose of this, soldier?" he asked.

"I am merely following my orders, Herr Reichslieutenant. For the safety and security of the Fatherland. Papier?"

Peter handed his documents to the guard. The guard flipped open the Soldbuch and compared the photograph to Peter. He then inspected the Sonderausweis D. "What is the nature of your travel to Berlin?" he asked conversationally.

"My Swester's fiancé." Peter motioned to Serilda. "I am accompanying her so that she may see him."

"I see." The guard continued to inspect the documents and then finally returned them to Peter. "Danke, Herr Reichslieutenant. May you travel safely." The guard clicked his boots and saluted. "Heil Hitler."

Peter gave a lazy salute in return. "Heil Hitler." He watched to make sure the other guard backed off of Serilda and both soldiers walked to the barricade. Peter and Serilda returned inside their vehicle and drove through once the barricade was lifted.

Peter looked back briefly and then turned to the road in front of him. "I hope you don't mind my saying...but I'm getting just a little bit more nervous the closer we're getting to Berlin."

Serilda nodded. "Yes, I know..." She looked at him and smiled. "But remember, you are a convincing German."

"Thanks for reminding me. I was trying to forget!"

 

Berlin, Germany
February 1, 1944

The night time streets of Berlin were deserted when Peter and Serilda finally arrived. Air raid sirens blared in the distance and anybody who was on the street hurried quickly to their destination.

"I was hoping we'd make it before dark," Peter said. "The lads have been bombing the hell outta Berlin every night since August. Just what we need to get caught in."

"Then we must hurry." Serilda said.

They pulled up in front of the Birken Hotel and, gathered their bags and quickly headed inside. The female desk clerk looked at them peculiarly.

"Guten Tag," Serilda said, out of breath. "We need two rooms please."

"I have two rooms but I can not put you in them yet. Not until the sirens stop. I must take you to the shelter downstairs."

"Very well."

The woman came out from behind the desk and motioned for them to follow her. "You are aware that the English planes have bombed us every night for several months now? I hope you are not here in Berlin for pleasure?"

"We're aware of the bombing," Peter said. "We tried to make it before dark, but the storm in Gottingen held us up. Unfortunately, our trip here is not by choice, or for pleasure."

"I hope you do not have to stay long. I don't know which is worse. The unpredictable weather or the awful English bombers!"

Peter only a murmured a "hmm" in reply as he and Serilda followed the desk clerk down a darkened stair well. They came to a room, lit with five to six oil lamps, where several of the hotel's patrons were huddled together on the floor, against the concrete walls, with blankets and coffee cups containing either coffee or soup. Several eyes looked toward Peter and Serilda as they came in and Peter realized he was the only man in a uniform in the room. And an SS uniform at that, which turned most of the eyes away.

Peter kept his eyes to himself and sat down next to Serilda at an empty spot against the concrete wall. The desk clerk handed them a blanket and asked them if they would care for a warm drink or soup. Both requested soup.

Peter removed his uniform hat and they sat quietly. Voices carried softly as the patrons spoke with one another and mixed in with the din of conversation was the sound of classical music.

A few moments later, a man came to them with two coffee cups filled with steaming hot potato soup.

"Danke," Peter and Serilda each said.

"Bitte. Heil Hitler," the man said.

"Heil Hitler."

The man walked away and Peter and Serilda quietly sipped at their soup. Peter noted that the soup tasted better than that which was served at camp. He and Serilda spoke only on general topics, the soup, the coldness of the basement or the classical music on the radio. Not twenty minutes later the floor vibrated with the sound of distant falling bombs. Thirty minutes after that the hotel shook as a building just less than a mile away took a direct hit.

Serilda instinctively turned toward Peter and clutched his arm. She paused, catching her breath and then whispered, "I hope they don't hit us."

"It would put a damper on things wouldn't it?" he replied.

Most of the patrons seemed ill at ease, although many of them had lived through several raids already. But there was no such thing as getting used to it. Some sat with their heads bowed on their knees, others just stared down at the floor or into their empty coffee cups. Even Peter, who had lived through the Nazi's relentless bombing of London in 1940 couldn't help but pray that the hotel wasn't hit.

The thunder of bombers flying over head and the pounding of bombs went on for three hours. The hotel rumbled and shook but was still standing when the bombing stopped a little after one in the morning. The wailing air raid sirens finally quieted down and the desk clerk announced that it was all clear to return upstairs.

Hotel staff assisted folks up the stairs. Peter helped Serilda to stand and they followed the group to the stair well. Both were dead tired, after several hours driving and then sitting through three hours of bombing, the feel of a soft pillow beckoned each of them.
After receiving their room keys they trudged up to the second floor of the hotel, a busboy following behind them with their luggage. He placed Peter's bag at the door of Peter's room, and then followed Serilda down to her door, leaving her bag. She thanked him and tipped him for both Peter and herself, and the man bade them good night.

Peter left his bag by the side of the bed and turned to remove his uniform jacket. He spotted a door on the wall that faced Serilda's room and he went over to it. He opened it and found it was an adjoining door between the two rooms. He saw Serilda had already crashed on the bed and looked to be fast asleep. She was still in her clothes, shoes and hadn't bothered turning the covers down. He smiled at the sight and walked over to her. He removed her shoes and then gently lifted her head and back to pull the covers from under her. After laying her back down, he lifted her legs to get the rest of the cover out and then he pulled the covers over her. She stirred softly but didn't open her eyes. He brushed her hair back from her face and touched a finger to her cheek. "Goodnight, luv..."

He turned her light off and quietly stepped back to his room.

 

Berlin, Germany
February 2, 1944

The next morning, Peter followed Serilda's direction through the snow melted, and in some cases rubble dusted streets of Berlin to Angus Marsden's shop. He parked the car near the curb in front of the clock shop and they both looked toward the door, the sign on it clear: Geschlossen. Closed.

"Are we early?" Peter asked.

Serilda shook her head. "I don't think so. He opens the stop every morning at eight-thirty, precisely. Something is definitely wrong if he is not here during his posted hours." She paused. "He changes the meeting place and contact place often. If he's at one of those places, I don't know where it is."

"Maybe we should try to find his family then, and determine what kind of situation we have there with the Gestapo."

Serilda nodded. "Gisela would also know where the meeting and contact places are. Hopefully we can get that information without causing a stir."

"All right, point the way."

"Head down the street here, I'll tell you when to turn."

Peter nodded and started the car. He then eased into Berlin's scant morning traffic, blending in easily.


Gisela Marsden tried to ignore the Gestapo officer, Sturmscharführer (Sergeant Major) Kohler, who had become a permanent fixture in her living room, and concentrated on her housework. He offered no conversation but kept a watchful eye on her at all times. It was bad enough she had to feed the man, serve him coffee and liquor and be expected to be the least bit reasonable to him. The least he could do was move himself when she dusted.

Naturally, considering the house arrest she and her children were under, she did not expect any visitors, other than perhaps more Gestapo men but they never came either. So when she heard the car pull into the drive she stopped to look out the window in surprise. Seeing Peter, who she didn't know from Adam, step out of the car dressed in an SS uniform caused her alarm. Seeing the woman, who she knew as Serilda, step out of the same car turned her alarm to panic.

Kohler had stood up and was looking too. "Who are they?" he asked.

"The woman is an old friend..." she stammered. "I am not sure of the SS officer."

"You act normal," he said. "You tell them I am old friend of your husband's. You also try to get them out of here as soon as possible."

Gisela nodded. She left the window and called to her children that they had visitors. The children, two boys ages 7 and 9 came to the parlor and sat down on the couch, quietly. Kohler returned to his seat as well.

Peter and Serilda walked up the path and stood on the steps for only a moment. Before they could knock, the door opened and Gisela smiled at them. "Serilda! Hallo! It has been a long time." Gisela hugged her old friend. "Gestapo," she whispered.

"Yes it's been awhile," Serilda said when they let go. She nodded at Gisela. "We were just passing through Berlin on our way to Hamburg and I wanted to stop and see you." Serilda hooked her arm around Peter's. "Gisela this is Hans, my fiancé."

"Oh my," Gisela said and looked at Peter with a smile. "Oh Serilda, how wonderful! Can you come in for a little bit?"

"Yes, but we can't stay too long."

"Of course." Gisela stepped back so that Serilda and Peter could enter the house. The Gestapo officer stood up when he saw Peter and he saluted. "Heil Hitler."

Peter gave a nod and returned the salute.

"This is Adler," Gisela said. "He's an old friend of Angus's."

Serilda smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"Now tell me," Gisela said. "How did you meet and when's the wedding?" She giggled.

Kohler returned to his seat and appeared as natural as possible. He had no concerns that Gisela would try anything, especially not in the presence of the SS. He relaxed as the women chatted away at the moment.

Gisela offered tea to her guests and after they were served, more easy chatter followed. Peter now engaged the Gestapo man in conversation. After a few minutes, Gislea told Serilda of a piece of furniture Angus had purchased in Munich recently. She invited Serilda to follow her down to the bedroom to see it. Kohler found nothing wrong with this and only glanced up as the women walked down the hall. Peter, otherwise, kept his attention distracted in talking.

Serilda closed the bedroom door part way behind her and Gisela turned to her. "You've taken a great risk coming here," she said.

"I'm trying to find Angus," Serilda said. "The man out there is not an SS officer. He's an RAF pilot. He's part of Colonel Hogan's operations in Hamelburg and has been accused of treason, based on information that Angus apparently supplied to London."

"It was the Gestapo. I don't know what they are trying to do, or why, but they have Angus under constant watch." She paused. "They killed Hagen and Otto when they took over."

"Hagen?"

Gisela nodded.

Serilda sighed. That was not the answer she was hoping to take back to Anjte.

"How many Gestapo officers have you and the children under guard?"

"Just that one."

"Can you tell me where the meeting and contact places are?"

"The meeting place is on Ahorn Street, number 37 in the back. The contact place is the Goldfasan Pub on Osten Street."

Serilda nodded. "We'll be back for you and the children."

"Serilda, you must be careful. If they even suspect that you and Hans are not what you seem then you have done your friend no favor."

"We will be careful. Come, we best go back out before the man becomes suspicious." They returned to the parlor where Peter and the Gestapo officer stood up.

"Well, it has been good to see you again, Gisela," Serilda said. "If we are to make our appointment in Hamburg, however, we must be going."

"Of course, of course." Gisela smiled and then hugged her friend. "It has been wonderful to see you again, Serilda, even if only for a short time. I wish you and Hans best wishes together."

"Thank you. We should be back in town in a couple of months, we will stop and see you. Hopefully Angus will be here as well."

"He would like that. Take care of yourself." Gisela took Peter's hands in hers. "You be good to Serilda, ja?"

Peter smiled. "I will."

"Good."

Kohler offered courtesies to Peter and then Gisela walked her guests to the door. They said good-bye and Peter and Serilda walked out to their car, saying nothing to one another until they were in.

"I got the locales from Gisela," Serilda said. "She also said that it's only that one Gestapo officer watching them."

"One too many," Peter said, starting the car. A moment later they drove away.


The Goldfasan Pub was tucked away between two large buildings in the heart of Berlin, only five miles from the Reichstag itself. To find it, however, one had to travel through a few winding roads and past bombed out buildings half cleared away.

"I thought I knew every nook and cranny of Berlin," Serilda said as they pulled up to the curb. "I never would have found this place." They paused and looked toward the pub, seeing the lights on inside and the few tables near the windows were empty. It almost seemed like the pace was closed, but the few movements from inside and seeing a person or two at other tables not far from the window told otherwise.

"Will you recognize him when you see him?" Peter asked.

Serilda nodded. "It's always safer to check with the bartender first, in case Angus should not recognize me."

"Okay. Let's go introduce ourselves then." They stepped out of the car and nonchalantly walked into the pub, Peter holding the door open for Serilda. A few people looked toward them as they came in but did not seem to find the presence of an SS officer particularly alarming. Only after looking around the place, did Peter notice a Luftwaffe pilot, a Wehrmacht soldier and two soldiers of the Waffen SS were already represented in the crowd.

At the back corner, with clear view of the door, Angus watched the couple come in. He faintly recognized the woman and only when her face turned toward him did he finally distinguish who she was. He cast a glance to his left at Lt. Weisburg, who had a curious eye on the SS officer. Angus casually sipped at his coffee, hoping that Weisburg didn't notice him looking at the woman.

Peter and Serilda walked up to the counter.

"Hallo," Serilda said and smiled at the bartender. "We are looking for Angus Marsden."

The bartender nodded. "Back corner, Fraulein."

Serilda looked to the back and then thanked the bartender. With Peter she began to walk over to Angus's table.

"They were asking for you," Weisburg said, watching the two as they weaved through tables.

Angus only nodded, although he wished they hadn't been asking for him. Just what he needed, a possible defecting SS officer and one of his old comrades of the Underground, to whom he couldn't tell that the man sitting next to him was Gestapo.

"Herr Marsden?" Serilda said.

Angus and Weisburg stood up and Angus nodded. "Yes?"

"My name is Ava von Dashden, and this is my brother Hans. May we talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," he motioned for them to sit down. "This is my associate Bernard Weisburg."

"How do you do?" Serilda said. Weisburg gave a nod in answer.

"Now," Marsden said. "What is it can I help you with?"

Serilda cast a cautious glance around the pub and then looked back to Marsden. "Herr Marsden," she said softly, "we need to get out of Germany."

"You are in trouble, or are merely looking to defect?"

Serilda looked at Peter. "Both," Newkirk answered. "I have seen things that I should not have."

"Something that would help the Allies?"

Peter nodded.

"Is the SS command aware that you know this information?"

"I'm not sure. I think they may suspect that I do."

Angus paused. "Please understand that my situation warrants this question: Is what you know worth risking life and limb to get you out of this country?"

"The knowledge of weapons and the information from the project I was a part of would be worth the risk, Herr Marsden. Up until 4 months ago I was a loyal German....but with what the High Command has in store for the SS to carry out against the Allies, I could not let it happen. It's no longer the winning of a war, it's the obliteration of entire peoples." Although Peter was making up his explanation, his declaration of what the German High Command had in mind was true, although few people, including himself, knew it at the time.

Angus considered this for a moment and then nodded. "Very well then. I can have you on your way out of Germany by Friday morning. Tomorrow night, there is a ball being held by Baron von Ushdergen and it is open for members of the military to attend. It will be held at the Baron's residence just east of Berlin. I will be there and I will put you in contact with the right people." Angus took his pen from his coat and wrote on one of the napkins. "Here is the address. It begins at 7 p.m." He slid the napkin across the table to Serilda. "I will probably not find you right away so I could encourage you to partake of the Baron's gracious hospitality."

Serilda and Peter nodded.

"Be careful," Angus cautioned before lifting his hand from the napkin for Serilda to take it. "Be very careful."

"We will." Serilda carefully tucked the napkin into her purse.

"Thank you, Herr Marsden," Peter said.

Angus nodded and watched the two stand up to leave. As they walked to the door, Lt. Weisburg pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket. "Gestapo headquarters will be interested to hear this..." he said, writing the name of the SS officer down.

Angus only sighed and took a drink of his coffee.

Back in Berlin traffic, Peter guided the car down a street and around a corner.

"Who was that other fellow?"

"I don't know." Serilda paused and then sighed heavily. "I think he's Gestapo."

"Terrific. And we just told him I'm an SS officer looking to defect." Peter sighed now. "Do you think Marsden recognized you?"

Serilda nodded. "Yes. That's why he warned us. That's also why he is having us go to the Baron's ball. It is a different arrangement then what he usually does."

"I've been to social functions before but...what's this ball going to entail?"

"I'll tell you all about it."


Stalag 13
February 2, 1944

Carter came into the barracks quickly and looked at Hogan. "Colonel, Major Hochstetter's here."

The other heroes stepped toward the door and watched as the Major's car came to a stop by Klink's office.

"Wonder what he's doin' here?" Kinch asked. Hochstetter disappeared into the building after giving the guard a quick salute.

"Let's find out." Hogan led the men away from the door and to his quarters. Carter shut the door as LeBeau set up the coffee pot.

Over at Klink's office, Hochstetter was being greeted by a grinning Kommandant and a smiling Sgt. Schultz who stood in the background.

"To what do we owe this visit, Major?" Klink asked as he sat behind his desk.

The Major sat down and looked at Klink across the desk. "A few days ago the Gestapo in Berlin infiltrated a spy group there that is believed to have some connection to Dusseldorf. I'm going to be in town for a few days to investigate. I may need volunteers if there is to be a raid."

"Of course, of course. A group of spies right in Berlin, you say?"

"Yes, it was a small operation but effective nonetheless. We've put a stop to it and quite possibly now have a chance to put a stop to other groups that operate within Germany."

Klink smiled. "Well that's certainly some good news for the Reich!"

Over in the barracks, the heroes all exchanged glances. "Not for us," Hogan said softly.

"Newkirk will be walking right into a trap in Berlin," Kinch said.

"If he hasn't already," Carter added.

Hogan held a hand up. "Let's see what else the Major has to say before we start to panic."

"If it's all right with you sir, I'm gonna start to panic now," Carter said.

Back in Klink's office, Hochstetter arrived at the next reason for his visit to the Stalag. "I also came because I wanted to ask you about one of your prisoners."

"Which one?"

"The Englander. Newkirk."

The heroes all looked at Hogan. "Now we panic," the Colonel said.

"What is it you want to know?" Klink asked.

"Has he been acting strangely lately?"

Klink paused. "No." He looked over to Schultz.

The sergeant shook his head. "No more a jolly joker than usual."

"Major, why do you ask?"

"Gestapo headquarters believes that Newkirk is looking to defect from the Allies and join with the Reich."

Klink and Schultz both had eye popping expressions.

"Newkirk?" Schultz said.

"I knew it!" Klink exclaimed. "I knew it, ever since he did that broadcast with Berlin Betty! He knows the war is fruitless for the English, therefore it's better to join up with the winning side!" Klink grinned.

"Yes..." Hochstetter concurred with a nod. Schultz however, didn't look so convinced.

"What further evidence do you have of this, Major?" Klink asked anxiously.

"It is top secret. But I would like to talk to him at some point, to see if the suspicions are correct and be the first to welcome him to the Reich."

"Well, that may be awhile, Major."

Hochstetter narrowed his eyes. "Why's that?"

"Newkirk is in the hospital in Hamelburg; very ill. The doctor has him under quarantine."

"Quarantine?"

"Thinks it might be influenza and didn't want to risk exposing the soldiers or other prisoners."

"I see..." Hochstetter found this peculiar to say the least, but made no indication to Klink. "When did he become ill?"

"Tuesday. He's been in the hospital since."

Hochstetter nodded. "I guess I will have to wait to speak to him then." He stood to leave. "Let me know when the quarantine has been lifted."

Klink stood up. "Certainly, Major." The two men saluted and Hochstetter walked toward the door that was held open by Schultz.

Back in the barracks, LeBeau replaced the lid on the coffee pot and unplugged the transceiver.

"Damn," Hogan said. "There's our answer. And our question."

"Hochstetter?" LeBeau said.

"I think he set it up. I think he's trying to set us up, to flush us out..." Hogan turned and paced. "He ordered the Gestapo take over of Marsden's group and put through that false treason charge. Now, he's here to see what we, or Newkirk would do and he knows that Newkirk being in the hospital under quarantine is too damn convenient and he's going to be checking to see if Newkirk is really there."

"So what do we do?" Kinch asked

Hogan paused and turned back to his men. "We tell him that Newkirk has Nazi sympathies."

"PAH!" LeBeau said. "If Newkirk heard you say that he'd spit on you."

"But not before he would play it up. Kinch, I want you to send a message to Dr. Weinstein. Tell him Hochstetter may show up at the hospital looking for Newkirk. Tell him to act surprised that Newkirk's missing and nothing more."

Kinch nodded and left to send the message.

"What do we do in the meantime?" LeBeau asked.

"Keep a careful eye on Hochstetter and get ready to fly the coup. If we play up Hochstetter's angle it'll buy us some time." He looked at Carter. "Can you get some charges ready for the radio and the tunnels?"

Carter nodded. "You bet."

"Okay. LeBeau, I want you to collect together our code books, maps, any sensitive documents to be destroyed with the radio."

"Oui, Colonel."

"Sir?" Carter said. "What about Newkirk?"

Hogan paused. "We'll leave word with the Underground. If he gets back here from Berlin and we've left, they'll get him to England."

"Meaning we ain't gonna see him again..." Carter said quietly.

Hogan sighed heavily. "Possibly not..."


Hamelburg Hospital
Hamelburg, Germany
February 3, 1944

A little sooner than the doctor expected, Major Hochstetter arrived at the hospital the next morning with two Gestapo guards in tow.

"Major, I must protest! The man is under quarantine for a reason. I do not recommend that you risk exposing yourself."

"I am aware of the risk doctor," Hochstetter replied. "Take me to prisoner's room."

Dr. Weinstein sighed. "Very well then. But if you become ill, Major, it's your health. I take no responsibility." Dr. Weinstein headed down the hall and Hochstetter followed.

As they came down the hall the guard outside the door stood up straighter. The doctor opened the door and held it open for Hochstetter to come in. They then went to the far end of the room and looked behind the curtain.

The bed, as both expected, was empty.

Dr. Weinstein reacted right on cue. "I don't believe this! Major, I assure you the man has been under guard and I have done routine checks!"

The Major held his hand up. "It is all right, Doctor. I do not fault your procedures..." Hochstetter looked around the room and then walked over to the window, nodding to himself. "He more than likely escaped out the window, he would not have needed much time."

"I apologize, nonetheless, Herr Major."

Hochstetter nodded. "It's possible the man was not even ill." He walked back to the door with Dr. Weinstein following. The doctor wondered just how much Hochstetter knew about Newkirk not being there.


Stalag 13
February 3, 1944

"You went to the hospital?" Klink said, coming around his desk to stand before Major Hochstetter. "I thought you were going to wait until the quarantine was lifted?"

"Yes, originally I was but time was of the essence as I'm sure you can understand. However, when I got there, Newkirk was not there."

"Whaat?? Then he's escaped!"

"Yes--I mean no. Not necessarily. It's possible he faked being ill in order to get out of camp...to meet a contact perhaps."

"Yes..." Klink folded his arms in front of him. "Yes, that's possible but...what I don't understand though, Major, is if Newkirk was looking to defect, why not just come to me? It would have saved all this run around."

"Ah yes, well...it's possible that he didn't want to be seen by the other prisoners."

"I suppose that's possible."

Over in the barracks, Hogan and the others were listening to the conversation.

"I think it's time to call Hochstetter's bluff," Hogan said. He left his quarters and the barracks and walked across the yard to Klink's office. He knocked and opened the door at the same time.

"Sir, can I--"

"Hogan! Go away, I'm busy!"

"I know sir but this is-- oh. Major Hochstetter, what a pleasant surprise."

"Colonel Hogan, a pleasure always."

"Can it wait, Hogan?" Klink asked.

"Well I suppose it could but...well, ya see the men have been working on a get well card for Newkirk and we'd really appreciate it if it could be delivered with the next change of the guard."

"Hogan! You call that important??"

"It's important to us, sir."

"Actually, Klink," Hochstetter interrupted. "Perhaps we should invite the Colonel to sit down and tell him the news."

"News?" Hogan said, all innocence.

"Yes," Hochstetter took a step back and offered one of the chairs in front of Klink's desk to Hogan. The Colonel closed the door, removing his hat and walked to the chair, sitting down. He looked at Hochstetter and Klink.

"Colonel Hogan," Hochstetter said. "Peter Newkirk is not in the hospital in Hamelburg."

Hogan's facial expression was perfect. "He's not??"

"No. Some time after he arrived there Tuesday he checked himself out."

Hogan narrowed his eyes. "That means he's escaped." He looked at Klink. "Sir, I give you my word as an officer that I didn't think this would happen. I truly believed he was sick!"

"He didn't escape, Colonel," Hochstetter said.

Hogan paused, acting like he didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean he didn't escape?"

"Several days ago, the Gestapo received information indicating that Newkirk was looking to defect."

Hogan sat in stone silence. He wrung his hat a little bit and then stood up, turning away from Klink and Hochstetter. "I didn't want to believe it," he said softly.

Hochstetter and Klink had matching confused expressions. "Believe what, Colonel?" Klink asked.

Hogan stood for a moment and then slowly turned back to the Kommandant and Hochstetter. "Newkirk having...Nazi sympathies." He shook his head, ashamed of it all. "I should have known. I should have tried to help him. Obviously the long confinement, the sometimes unshakable sense of hopelessness has...taken it's toll."

"Colonel Hogan," Klink said, coming to stand next to Hogan, "are you saying that you've had suspicions about Corporal Newkirk?"

Hogan nodded. "For about a month or so. I've spotted him reading Mein Kampf several times, practicing German, he wasn't writing as many letters home. He even started withdrawing himself from camp activities." Hogan paused. "The Barracks Two Barber Shop Quartet just hasn't been the same without him." Hogan turned to Klink suddenly. "You are going to try to find him, aren't you?"

"Hogan, he could be anywhere!"

"He may still be in Hamelburg. Besides, what if some unsuspecting Gestapo officer decides to shoot first and ask questions later??"

"The Colonel may be right Klink, as it is not highly publicized information," Hochstetter said.

"Very well then Colonel Hogan, the Major and I will coordinate a search effort."

"Thank you, Kommandant. Oh and when you find him and bring him back, may I talk to him?"

"Of course, Colonel."

Hogan nodded. "Thank you." He looked down at this hat for a moment and then up at Klink and Hochstetter. Without another word, he walked to the office door and let himself out.


Baron von Ushdergen's residence
Potsdam, Germany (west of Berlin)
February 3, 1944


A fog in England kept most of the RAF bombers grounded for the night. This was a welcomed reprieve for people in Berlin and was appreciated by Peter and Serilda as well. Finding the small suburb of Berlin where the Baron's home was located was difficult enough in the dark and on bumpy, ill-maintained roads. They certainly didn't need to be dodging bombs as well.

Peter, of course, had already been nearly knocked off his feet by Serilda in her simple yet elegant evening gown. Dark blue velvet, floor length with a scalloped neck line, low back and short sleeves, the dress looked stunning. She had swept her hair up in a French twist and the way she looked standing in the middle of her hotel room had caught Peter momentarily speechless.

Serilda smiled at him.

Peter blinked. "You....you look...great," he said, not being able to find a better word.

"Thank you. You're looking very nice yourself."

Peter look down at the black SS uniform he wore. "Eh, RAF dress uniform is much better looking." He smiled up at her.

Serilda giggled. Peter picked up her overcoat from the chair and held it open for her. Serilda slipped her arms in and then turned to Peter. They looked at each other for a moment, Peter caught in her simple beauty, Serilda knowing exactly what he was looking at and finding an attraction to him that was difficult to deny.

"Serilda..." Peter hesitated a moment. "I...I know this is probably a rotten time to say this but...."

She touched a finger gently to his lips. "Then don't say it," she said softly. "I think I know what you're going to say anyway." She took her hand away from his face. "I...haven't forgotten that night you kissed me," she said softly.

"I know you're resolved to the Underground and I respect that. But I have some strong feelings about you. I don't know if it's going to make me feel any better telling you about it but I would probably regret it if I didn't say anything. You're a lovely woman, Serilda. There's no denying that."

She smoothed a hand over the lapel of his overcoat. "You are a charmer, Peter Newkirk."

"I know. It's a serious character flaw." He grinned.

She giggled and then looked at him in all seriousness. "I do like you, Peter. But I'm sure when this is all over, you'll forget me in time."

"I don't think so," he said gazing into her eyes. "I don't think so...." Slowly he leaned to her and touched a kiss upon her lips. It wasn't like the night he kissed her in Hamelburg. That was more like a goodbye kiss, a reminder of him should they never see each other again. But this time was different. His lips, warm and soft against hers, spoke of his desire for her. He was asking not just to be remembered, but to be with her somehow still, when this was all over.

Serilda's heart stirred in her chest. She felt his arms encircle her, drawing her closer to him, triggering a tingling feeling through her of both fire and misery.

Peter felt something of the same thing. When the kiss ended and he looked into her eyes he saw what he felt in his own soul. He touched his hand softly to her cheek, a gesture of apology. Serilda turned her face toward his hand and then looked up at him.

"We should get going..."

He nodded and slowly she stepped away. Peter followed her out of the hotel room.


The Baron himself greeted his guests at the door of his estate, which thus far had been spared by the Allied bombing raids. He smiled at Peter and Serilda and chatted with them briefly before letting them inside. They explained they were from Dusseldorf, in town visiting family and friends and had heard of the Baron's open invitation to military personnel from Angus Marsden. The Baron smiled and told them Angus was the finest clockmaker in all of Germany and he welcomed them to the ball.

Once inside the estate, they were relieved of their coats and they walked into the large and spacious front room, where several other guests were already gathered, talking and drinking. High ranking Luftwaffe, Wehrmacht and SS officers were present.

A server came to them and offered champagne. They each took a glass and thanked the server before he left.

"Considering how badly they're losing they sure know how to put on a party," Peter said quietly before taking a sip of his drink.

"Baron von Ushdergen is a staunch supporter of the Furher and the Reich," Serilda explained. "Thus his permanent open invitation to all military members to attend any of the receptions he holds. It has been said that top level decisions have been made at these functions in the past."

"Hmmm..." Peter casually sipped at his champagne and looked around as more people made their way into the front room. He saw Angus come in but hardly had time to tell Serilda. Two SS officers had come up to him to say hello.

"Guten Abend," Peter replied. "Heil Hitler."

"You'll have to forgive us for our curiosity," one of them said, "as we do not recognize you. Are you with the SS here in Berlin?"

Peter shook his head. "Nein, I am from Duesseldorf."

"Ah. What brings you to Berlin?"

Peter and Serilda chatted conversationally with the two SS officers. Their curiosity could have just as easily have been an excuse for interrogation. After all, Peter nor Serilda were familiar faces and it was assumed that a series of regulars often attended the Baron's functions.

Angus had made eye contact with Peter briefly upon entering and then saw Peter become distracted by the two inquiring SS officers. What Peter and Serilda didn’t see was that Weisburg had come in directly behind Angus. The Baron cheerfully greeted Angus and they chatted briefly. Angus introduced Weisburg as a "friend" and the Baron then asked about the brother and sister.

Angus didn't miss a beat. "Ah yes, they are old friends. They are on their way to Hamburg and I persuaded them to attend your function here this evening."

The Baron smiled, genuinely. "Wonderful..." The more the merrier.

Once the curiosity of the SS officers had been satisfied, they excused themselves, wishing Peter and Serilda a good evening. Peter and Serilda then made their way over to the table of hor’derves where they soon were met with Angus and Weisburg. Angus only said that the mutual contact had not arrived yet. That bought them time, but not much, to figure out how to lose Weisburg long enough to have a talk.

The Baron officially started the festivities with a short speech and a toast to the victory of the Fatherland. The guests all raised their glasses and then the room was filled with the collective chime of glasses being tapped together.

Peter turned to Serilda and flashed an indiscreet Winston Churchill V sign. She smiled, raised her glass to him and they silently toasted the victory of the Allies.

The orchestra then began to play the first waltz. Peter turned to Serilda. “Shall we dance?”

“I’d love to.”

He led her out to the dance floor.

“Any ideas on how we talk to Marsden with that jackbooted right arm hangin’ around?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think we’re going to have decoy him away or something. He probably follows Angus around to the men’s room.” Serilda paused. “Maybe if I danced with Angus?"

"That should work. As long as he can waltz and talk at the same time," Peter said and grinned.

As they danced the rest of the waltz, Peter found himself content. Momentarily he forgot what uniform he was in, what city, what country and what war. A beautiful woman was dancing with him and he had no need to pay attention to anything else.
When the music ended, everyone applauded and a few dispersed from the dance floor. Peter and Serilda walked to where Angus and Weisburg stood.

“Your friend has not arrived yet?” Serilda asked.

“No. He is known to come late to these kind of functions. But he will be here fraulien, I guarantee.”

“Well then, I believe we have time for another dance,” Serilda said looking at Peter.

“I think I will sit this one out,” he said. “Perhaps Herr Marsden or Herr Weisburg will dance? You can’t dance with your brother all night.”

Everyone chuckled. Serilda looked at Angus. The next waltz started to play. “Herr Marsden?”

Marsden smiled and nodded. “I would be honored.” He turned his elbow out to her and Serilda hooked her arm around his and walked with him to the dance floor. Weisburg and Peter watched them go.

“You take a great risk,” Weisburg said looking into his champagne glass.

“Don’t we all?” Peter replied. “The decision to leave the Fatherland is my own and it is something I feel I must do.”

Weisburg nodded.

On the dance floor, Serilda told Marsden what was really going on.

“He’s not an SS officer. His name is Peter Newkirk and he’s the RAF pilot you’ve accused of committing treason.”

“It was not my willful intent,” Marsden explained. “I’ve been compromised by the Gestapo….”

“We know.”

“Yes, but do you know that Weisburg is of the Gestapo? And having that RAF pilot pose as a defecting SS officer puts you both in danger. I am sure he has contacted his superiors.”

Serilda sighed. “What were we supposed to do? We had to contact you somehow. Is he the only Gestapo man who has you under guard?”

“Yes, and he follows me everywhere. And they are holding Gisela and the boys.”

“There is only one guard there. Peter and I went to see her. Angus, we can get them out of Berlin if you will tell London that what you told them wasn’t true.”

“Can you get them out of Germany? To London?”

“Of course.”

“Then do so. I will trust that they are on their way by the morning. I will then take care of removing the cancer from the Underground in Berlin. And I will let London know what has gone terribly wrong here.”

“What about you? We can probably get you out too-”

Marsden shook his head. “I am not counting on that. After what happened to Hagan and Otto…I may only find myself with the same fate. But Gisela and the boys, you must make sure they are safe.”

“We will, Angus…” she said softly and then shook her head. “Why have they done this? What is their purpose?”

“I don’t know. But after killing Hagen and Otto, Weisburg said that the treason charge against Peter Newkirk was the start of the end of the Underground.”

“Who orchestrated it all? Weisburg?”

“No. There is someone else he is reporting to and taking orders from. Whatever it is, Serilda, it will be stopped by tomorrow morning. Promise me, that you and Peter will see to it that Gisela and my boys are safely out of Germany and the grasp of the Nazi’s.”

“I promise you.”

The waltz ended and Serilda and Angus returned to where Weisburg and Peter stood.

“Thank you, Fraulein.”

“Thank you, Herr Marsden.”

Angus looked around the crowd. He spotted his contact for getting people out of Germany. “Ah, I believe our mutual friend has arrived. If you’ll excuse me for just a moment.” Angus walked away and surprisingly Weisburg didn’t follow. But he kept his eye on him.

Angus moved through the crowd and caught the eye of a dark haired man who smiled in recognition.

“Angus, good to see you once again.” The men shook hands. “Tho’, I’m surprised that it would be here.”

“Follow my lead,” Angus said quietly. “I’m in trouble.”

The man paused and nodded quickly. “Of course.”

The two men walked back to Weisburg, Serilda and Peter. Introductions were made and the conversation was concise and the instructions were simple. The SS Reichslieutenant and his sister wished to leave Germany. The dark haired man followed in stride and nodded.

“It will be taken care of,” he said.

However, he knew that this arrangement was odd for several reasons. First, he did not know who Weisburg was. Second, he knew Serilda but couldn't figure why she was assuming a different identity. And lastly, Angus Marsden never used the Baron’s ball for such an arrangement, which left the man to wonder just exactly what was going on.

Of course, it all fooled Weisburg. At that moment he was a little more preoccupied with the idea that the SS officer wouldn’t make it out of Germany and would be caught the next morning. Certainly that and being part of this crackdown on spies would make him look favorably to a promotion.

When the clock ticked a few minutes past 10:30, Serilda expressed to Peter that she was ready to leave. Marsden’s contact had left almost 15 minutes before but was waiting outside for when the Serilda and the SS officer would leave.

Peter and Serilda gave the Baron their regards and appreciation for the open invitation. He thanked them, gave them well wishes and bid them good night. Their coats were brought to them and they walked out of the estate.

Marsden’s contact saw them and followed. When they reached the car he called to them.

“Psst! Serilda!”

Serilda gasped and Peter swung around, pulling his firearm from the holster.

The man put his arms up. “Serilda, it’s me. Emil.” He stepped closer, keeping his hands raised.

“It’s okay, Peter,” she said. Peter put the gun away and Emil put his hands down, stepping up to them.

“Serilda, what is going on? This is not one of Angus’s usual arrangements.”

“This is not one of your usual defections,” Peter said.

Emil blinked and looked at Serilda. “He speaks English?”

“I ought to. I am English!”

Serilda laughed. “Emil, why don’t you get in the car and we’ll explain everything to you. Angus is in trouble and we’re going to need your help.”

Emil nodded. “Okay.”

The three got into the car and Peter pulled onto the road. Serilda introduced Peter and then explained what was going on. She told Emil that they were now heading to Gisela’s to get her and the children away from the Gestapo and then find a way to get them out of Germany.

“I can get them out tonight,” Emil said. “I have a car that will take them north. By six o'clock tomorrow morning they will be on their England.”

“Perfect!” Peter exclaimed. “They get out safely, Marsden tells London what’s really going on, we go back to Hamelburg and I’m no longer considered a bloody traitor!”

Emil laughed and patted Newkirk’s shoulder. “It will all be worth it.”

“I just wish we could have figured what exactly they were trying to pull,” Serilda said. “I like you very much Peter but I hardly see how accusing you of treason serves as the catalyst to destroy the entire Underground.”

“No offense taken,” Peter replied. “At this point I really don’t give a rot what they were up to. It’ll be stopped as soon as Gisela and her children are out of Germany."


Berlin, Germany
February 3, 1944

Peter turned the car down the street to Angus and Gisela’s home, turning the lights off. He put the car in neutral, clicked the engine off and let the car coast to the driveway.

The home was dark, except for a light on the bottom floor. Peter, Serilda and Emil could see the Gestapo officer sitting in the parlor.

“Looks like he’s dozing,” Emil said.

“Yeah…” Peter studied the front of the building. “Serilda, is there a back door to this place?”

“Yes.”

“All right, that should work. Emil, if you’ll take the front door, I’ll take the back. We’ll get the drop on him one way or the other.”

“Okay.”

“Give me a minute or two to jimmy the lock if I have to. If he hears anything and starts to walk to the back, knock on the front.”

“Got it.”

“Serilda, if you see anybody come along that looks Gestapo you get yourself and this car out of here.”

“Okay.”

Peter turned to Emil. “There should be a flashlight or two in that bag next to you there…” Emil found the bag and opened it. He found a flashlight and handed it to Peter. They then got out of the car and quietly closed their doors. They looked at the Gestapo agent who was still dozing in the chair. Peter nodded to Emil and walked to the back side of the house. Emil waited, watching the street and the Gestapo agent through the window.

Peter found the back door and pulled his lock pick kit from the inside pocket of his overcoat. Carefully he went to work. He worked the lock until it let go with a loud click. He cringed, paused and listened, holding his breath.

Kohler had heard it too and was now awake and listening. He did not move from the chair at first and Emil couldn’t tell that the man was awake. It was not until the Gestapo officer heard the door knob turn.

Emil saw the officer get up and he quickly went to the door. He knocked on it and Kohler stopped, finding a knock on the door at this hour night peculiar, and with the noises from the back of the house heightening his senses, he withdrew his gun.

Serilda saw this through the window and could do nothing but watch. And pray.

Peter meanwhile, was stepping into the house. He clicked off the flashlight and found he was in a kitchen. A door way was lighted by the lamp from the parlor. He tucked his lock pick kit away and quietly closed the door. He then quickly and quietly moved to the hallway.

The Gestapo man was at the front door opening it. He peered around the door keeping the gun ready but out of site.

Emil looked surprised. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I may have the wrong house.”

Peter was at the end of the hallway looking into the parlor. To his left was the front door and the Gestapo officer’s back was to him.

“What house are you looking for?” Kohler asked.

Peter moved from the hall way to come up directly behind the man.

“Number 14,” Emil said.

Peter raised his flashlight and hit Kohler directly on base of the neck.

“And I think I found it,” Emil said as the officer fell to the floor. He grinned at Peter.

By this point Gisela had awoke and came to see what the noise was. She recognized both men as they dragged the Gestapo officer back into the parlor.

“Emil! Hans!”

Peter turned to Gisela. “Can you pack up yourself and the children in less than 10 minutes?”

“Y-Yes,” Gisela stammered.

“We don’t have much time. Angus wants us to get you to England. He’s going to close down the Underground here.”

“Okay,” she said softly. She turned and headed down the hall to wake up the boys and pack clothes.

Emil and Peter paused, each man realizing that Gisela’s entire world was suddenly being uprooted. “There is the possibility,” Emil said, “that she may never see Angus again.”

“Yeah, I just thought of that.” Peter sighed. “C'mon...let’s see if we can give her a hand.”

They helped Gisela and the boys to pack up a few of their possessions and soon had them out in the car. Sturmscharführer Kohler was still unconscious when they left.


Emil instructed Peter to drive north of Berlin to a small village where another car waited. They quickly transferred Gisela and the boy’s bags to the other car and Gisela turned to Serilda and Peter.

“Will you see Angus again?” she asked looking at both of them.

Serilda hesitated. “We don’t know.”

Gisela nodded. “I understand. He always told me that one day something could happen, I just…always hoped it wouldn’t.”

She sighed and Serilda took her hand. Gisela looked up at them. “If somehow you do see him, would you tell him that I love him very much and that I’m very proud of what he’s done…” her voice faded as she held back her tears.

Serilda squeezed her hand and Peter placed and gentle hand on her shoulder. “We’ll tell him,” Serilda said, “but I bet he already knows.” She smiled at her and Gisela smiled too despite her tears.

Emil came up to them and told them that the car had to leave soon to be North by the morning. Gisela hugged Serilda and Peter and thanked them for what they had done. She then wished them well in their return to Hamelburg. Peter and Serilda watched her get into the car and then the car pulled away, slowly, disappearing into the night.

They didn’t say anything to one another. They only turned and walked back to their car.


~End Part Two~

Part Three