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The prisoners ran through the woods, away from the Germans who were driving down the road. They may or may not have been spotted, but they didn’t care to find out. Suddenly shots rang out behind them. The prisoners dove for cover. The shooting carried on down the road, they weren’t going to be pursued.
“Everyone alright?” asked colonel Hogan, taking a brief assessment of his men.
“I guess so,” said Kinche, brushing dirt off his clothes.
“Good thing those Germans shoot like a bunch of Frenchmen, eh, LeBeau?” joked Newkirk.
No reply came.
“Louis?”
Newkirk looked around.
“Where is he?” wondered Carter.
“Look around in the brush,” said Hogan.
The group split up.
“Colonel…” called Newkirk, sounding uneasy. He was about 20 feet back on the path.
Everyone came running.
“Colonel,” Newkirk said again. “My little mate’s been shot.”
A wave of fear surged over the group.
“Everyone back to camp, double time,” Hogan ordered. He was the only one remaining calm… on the outside at least. Newkirk picked up the unconscious corporal and the group sped off back to camp.
Carefully, they brought LeBeau into their underground tunnels. There, Sergeant Baker was waiting for them. He saw LeBeau, pale as a ghost and unconscious.
“What happened!?” he exclaimed.
“The Krauts, they found our secret meeting,” muttered Hogan, placing LeBeau on the cot Kinch often used when waiting for a transmission from London or an underground unit. Newkirk had passed LeBeau off to him to get him down the ladder.
“Alright, men,” said Hogan, “Carter, boil some water, sterilize a sharp knife and a pair of tweezers and get the bandages and sulfa out of my footlocker.”
“Yessir!” Carter said taking off to collect the stuff the colonel needed.
“Kinch, contact London and inform them what's happened. Arrange a penicillin drop, I think we’re going to need it.”
“Yes, colonel.”
“What do you want me to do, colonel?” asked Newkirk.
“Help me clear off a table and get him ready.”
The two cleared a table. A moan escaped from LeBeau’s lips as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes, though everything was in a haze.
“Colonel Hogan,” he groaned. Newkirk and Hogan rushed over to him.
“Easy there, LeBeau, easy,” Hogan said.
“Colonel, I’m scared,” he whispered.
“You’re going to be okay,” Hogan reassured him, forcing himself to smile slightly.
“Don’t worry Louis, the colonel always manages to pull us all out of trouble!” said Newkirk, forcing a cheery demeanor as well. “Now, let's take a look at that wound, shall we?” Newkirk gently peeled back the blood soaked clothes from the wound. “It doesn’t look too bad now does it, colonel?”
“Oh, no… no it really doesn’t,” Hogan said but the brief hesitation told the corporal otherwise. The corporal groaned inwardly, he felt like blood was pouring out of him but he didn’t dare look.
Now everyone was starting to get back.
“Alright LeBeau, let's go over to the table and get that bullet out,” said Hogan. He helped the Frenchman over to the table and eased him down on it. “I’m going to need everyone to help hold him down. This is going to hurt.” Colonel Hogan rolled up his shirt sleeves and buttoned them in place. He washed his hands and picked up the knife Carter sterilized. He looked around at his men' s faces, they were all ready and waiting. His eyes met with Newkirk’s, he looked worried but gave a small nod of confidence in the colonel. He looked down at LeBeau, small and pale, looking like he was going to faint, and honestly, that's exactly how Hogan felt.
The colonel took a deep breath and went to work, retrieving the bullet. It was stuck in a bone. As he dug, LeBeau groaned loudly and tried to fight it. It took about everything the men had to keep LeBeau pinned down. Hogan had to give him some credit, LeBeau always was tougher than he looked. It was after Hogan lost his grip on the bullet the second time that LeBeau finally passed out from the pain of it. It was better that way.
Hogan began sweating as he struggled to remove the bullet. But finally it came free after what had felt like hours but had only been minutes. The POWs breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“Want me to clean him up?” Newkirk asked from Hogan’s side. He’d noticed just how pale his colonel looked and the way he was subtly shaking.
Hogan nodded and took a step back as Newkirk stepped in to clean the wound and bandage up his friend. Once he was done, he and Kinch moved LeBeau back onto the cot. They’d let him rest there for a while before bringing him into the barracks.
The colonel took a seat where he could keep an eye on LeBeau, he was going to see to it that the man came out alright. Eventually exhaustion got the better of him and he dozed off until he was awoken by Kinch, “Roll call in five minutes colonel!”
Hogan swore under his breath, he was still exhausted by the events of the previous night. He still had to get LeBeau out of the tunnel and into his bunk. They would say he was sick with the flu or something.
“Help me with LeBeau,” Hogan yawned. “We’ll put him in the lower bunk in my office. It’ll be warmer there, better for him.”
“Of course colonel,” Kinche replied. He could see how stress had aged the colonel in the dark light of the tunnel.
Hogan carried the corporal to the ladder and Kinche helped bring him up. At least LeBeau was light. Getting a larger man up the ladder in this condition would have been near impossible.
“Huh?” the jostling had woken up the Frenchman.
Kinche smiled at him, “it's nothing, go back to sleep,” he said soothingly as he carried him into Hogan’s office and placed him in bed.
—-
They had one minute to prepare before everyone was called outside for roll call.
“Please colonel Hogan, where is he?” sergeant Schultz pleaded with the senior prisoner of war officer.
“Relax Schultz, he’s here,” Hogan replied slyly.
“Repoooort!” Colonel Klink called out.
Sergeant Schultz approached his kommandant. Klink scowled at him, noticing the obvious missing prisoner. It was hard to miss short LeBeau. He was the smallest man in the camp.
“You dummkopf. Where is the little Frenchman?”
Colonel Hogan stepped forward. “LeBeau’s in the barracks, he’s-”
“Get him out here!” Klink ordered.
“He’s sick!” Hogan complained.
“Humph!” Klink responded. “This had better not be an escape attempt, because if it is, Colonel Hogan, you and your men are…” Hogan tuned out the rest of Klink’s speech and convinced the man to take a look in the barracks, Hogan leading the kommandant and sergeant in.
“He’s not here!” Klink said, seeing LeBeau’s empty cot.
“That’s because he’s in my office. It’s warmer in there,” Hogan explained.
“Better for an escape attempt!” Klink accused.
Hogan rolled his eyes and showed them into his office.
“He looks terrible!” remarked Schultz, seeing LeBeau asleep and so pale. “That poor man.”
“Take him to the hospital, sergeant,” Klink said.
“There’s no need for that,” Colonel Hogan said, though he did wish the corporal could have been taken there. They couldn’t risk the Germans finding out that LeBeau had been shot. It’d raise too many questions, questions he couldn’t explain away. “It’s just the flu, he’ll be better in a couple of days.”
“Colonel Hogan, I decide what goes on around here,” Klink responded, annoyed.
“It’s not necessary, colonel. Sergeant Olson in barracks four was trained as a medic, he’s very skilled! He’ll keep an eye on LeBeau.”
Klink considered this for a moment. “Alright, but if he gets worse, he’s going.” Klink turned around and left.
“I hope LeBeau gets well soon,” Schultz said as his stomach growled. Seeing LeBeau always brought food to the front of his mind.
“Schultz!” Klink yelled.
“Coming, her kommandant!”
It was afternoon when LeBeau finally woke up. His body felt heavy, his head ached. Worst of all, was the throbbing pain in his shoulder. LeBeau turned his head slightly, all of the crew was in here, gathered around the coffee pot. He could faintly hear colonel Klink’s voice and someone else's. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but he thought he heard his name at least once.
Whatever it was, it must have been serious, everyone appeared to be very tense.
“Colonel, what are we going to do?” Carter sounded worried.
“I don’t know,” replied Hogan, turning around, worry lining his face for a second before he noticed the Frenchman was awake. He smiled at him, his being awake was one less burden.
“How are you feeling, LeBeau?” he inquired.
“Like I’ve been to hell and back.”
The others turned towards him, grinning.
“Louis!” cheered Newkirk, coming over to hug his friend, being careful not to hurt him.
“Welcome back,” said Kinche, the only one able to contain himself.
“Down boys,” ordered Hogan, “We aren’t out of the woods yet.”
Everyone quickly became very sober.
“What's the problem, colonel?” asked LeBeau.
“The problem is the gestapo. They know someone was shot in the woods last night.” Hogan frowned slightly. “They asked if anyone was absent from roll call this morning. They’ve put two and two together and want to investigate you.”
LeBeau groaned. This situation was too much for him so early in the afternoon.