Chapter Text
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 Kinch, brushing dirt off his clothes.
"Good thing those Germans shoot like a bunch of girls, eh, Rains?" joked Newkirk.
No reply came.
"Schaff?" Newkirk asked again, using Rains's last name.
Newkirk looked around.
"Where is she?" wondered LeBeau.
"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. "Our little bird'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 lieutenant and the group sped off back to camp.
Carefully, they brought the lieutenant into their underground tunnels. There, Carter was waiting for them. He saw Rains, pale as a ghost and unconscious.
"What happened!?" he exclaimed.
"The Krauts, they found our secret meeting," muttered Hogan, placing Rains on the cot Kinch often used when waiting for a transmission from London or an underground unit. Newkirk had passed Rains off to him to get him down the ladder.
"Alright, men," said Hogan, "LeBeau, boil some water, sterilize a sharp knife and a pair of tweezers. Carter, get the bandages and sulfa out of my footlocker."
"Yessir!" Carter and LeBeau said and went about their duties.
"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 her ready."
The two cleared a table. A moan escaped from Rains's lips as she regained consciousness. She opened her eyes, though everything was in a haze to her.
"Colonel Hogan," she moaned. Newkirk and Hogan rushed over to her.
"Easy there, Rains, easy," Hogan said.
"Colonel, I'm scared," she whispered.
"You're going to be okay," Hogan reassured her, forcing himself to smile slightly.
"Don't worry Rains, 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 lieutenant otherwise. She chuckled weakly, or perhaps it was more of an amused exhale. It wasn't often that her commanding officer lacked confidence.
Now everyone was starting to get back.
"Alright Rains, let's go over to the table and get that bullet out," said Hogan. He helped her over to the table and eased her down on it. "I'm going to need everyone to help hold her 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 LeBeau 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 at LeBeau, who was standing back against the wall 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. The lieutenant groaned loudly and passed out, as did LeBeau. It was better that way.
Hogan began sweating as he struggled to remove the bullet. It slipped from the tweezer's grasp a couple of times. But finally it came free, after what had felt like hours but was only minutes. The POWs breathed a sigh of relief.
"Want me to clean her 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 Rains back onto the cot. They'd let her rest there for a while before bringing her into the barracks.
The colonel took a seat where he could keep an eye on Rains. He was going to see to it that she came out alright. As he sat and watched over his lieutenant, he thought about how she had come to be at Stalag 13. She had escaped from about 5 different holding centers and prison camps before she was finally placed in Stalag 13 due to its record of having no escapes. She'd done it all intentionally, London had wanted her to become part of Colonel Hogan's team. She was just about an expert in sabotage.
When London had told him to prepare for an operative by the codename 'Rains' to join them, he hadn't been expecting a woman. It was something London had neglected to tell him. Of course, he would have told them they were insane. He would have argued against having a woman join them. Afterall, how would he ever explain a woman in a camp full of men? It was good that Lieutenant Laura Schaff had made a reputation for herself as an escape artist, otherwise it could never have worked.
Eventually, exhaustion got the better of the colonel 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 Rains out of the tunnel and into her bunk they would say she was sick with the flu or something.
"Help me with her," Hogan said with a yawn.
"Of course colonel," Kinch replied. He could see how stress had aged the colonel in the dark light of the tunnel.
Hogan carried the lieutenant to the ladder and Kinch helped bring her up. It took some doing, she was heavier than she looked with her broad frame.
"Huh?" the jostling had woken up the lieutenant.
Kinch smiled at her, "it's nothing, go back to sleep," he said soothingly as he carried her over to her cot in the colonel's office.
—-
Everyone was called outside for roll call.
"Please, Colonel Hogan, where is she?" Sergeant Schultz pleaded with the senior prisoner of war officer.
"Relax Schultz, she's here," Hogan replied slyly.
"Repooooort!" Colonel Klink called out.
Sergeant Schultz approached his commander. Klink scowled at him, noticing the obvious missing prisoner. It was hard to miss it when the only female prisoner was absent.
"You dummkopf. Where is Lieutenant Schaff?"
Colonel Hogan stepped forward. "Schaff's in the barracks, she's-"
"Get her out here!" Klink ordered.
"She'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.
"She looks terrible!" remarked Schultz, seeing Rains asleep and so pale. "That poor Fräulein."
"Take her to the hospital, sergeant," Klink said.
"There's no need for that," Colonel Hogan said, though he did wish the lieutenant could have been taken there. They couldn't risk the Germans finding out that Rains had been shot. It'd raise too many questions, questions he couldn't explain away. "It's just the flu, she'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. LeBeau was trained as a medic, he's very skilled! He'll keep an eye on Schaff."
Klink considered this for a moment. "Alright, but if she gets worse, she's going." Klink turned around and left.
"My… is there anything the cockroach can't do…" Schultz marveled.
"Schultz!" Klink yelled.
"Coming, herr kommandant!"
Nighttime
"Colonel, she's getting worse," muttered Newkirk, removing his hand from Rains's forehead.
"I know," said the Colonel, casting a worried glance at the fevered lieutenant. A day had passed since she'd been shot. A day since he'd dug the bullet out of her shoulder. A day since his hands had been covered in her blood. "LeBeau and Carter should be back with that penicillin any time now."
Newkirk muttered something under his breath about how clumsy Carter is and his tendency to get lost. Hogan chose to ignore it, instead looking towards the frosted window as though he might be able to see his men returning. They should have been back an hour ago.
Rains moaned from her bunk, shifting weakly. The fever was getting worse. If she didn't get that penicillin tonight, she might not make it at all.
Finally, the sound of the bunk rattling up in the barracks signaled the return of LeBeau and Carter. And within moments, they were standing breathless in the doorway of Hogan's office.
"About time you two got back!" Newkirk said from his place by Rains.
"Where is it?" Hogan asked, rising from his seat at the table.
"Mon Colonel…" LeBeau started, his voice shaking. "It got destroyed."
"Destroyed!? What do you mean destroyed?" asked Newkirk, his voice rising.
"What happened?" Hogan asked, silencing the corporal with a wave of his hand. Shouting wouldn't help, it would just draw the guard's attention.
"We got to the drop site and signaled the plane as arranged," Carter said, trailing off.
"And?" Hogan pressed.
"The Krauts saw the plane," Carter continued.
"And the parachute," added LeBeau.
"And started firing."
LeBeau nodded. "We found the package but it was destroyed. All of it."
"Bloody wonderful," Newkirk muttered from his place.
"Damn," Hogan said, rubbing his hand across his face. This was bad. Now what would they do? He couldn't just let Rains die. Leaving camp wouldn't be an option, the area would certainly be crawling with Krauts since they'd spotted the plane and the parachute. Bringing in a doctor could get them all shot.
"I need some air," Newkirk said, giving Rains's hand a squeeze before rising from his seat.
Hogan nodded and allowed the man to leave. Newkirk and Rains were close. Thick as thieves since they'd pickpocketed each other when they'd first met.
Hogan took Newkirk's spot beside Rains. He took in how pale she was and her rapid, labored breathing. This wasn't good at all.
"What do we do now, Colonel?" asked Carter.
"I'll think of something," Hogan replied. He had to. Maybe he could get the underground to line up a sympathetic-
"Colonel Hogan," Kinch's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Newkirk just left through the emergency tunnel! He had a look in his eyes."
"Why didn't you stop him?"
"I tried to, Colonel!"
"What? These woods are swarming with Krauts!" LeBeau exclaimed.
"Should we go after him?" Carter asked.
Hogan thought for a moment. Newkirk was definitely going to get himself shot out there. "No," he said.
"No?"
"But Colonel!"
"No," Hogan repeated. "If he gets caught, that's one thing. They'll just take it as a lone escape attempt. But if we all get caught, we have trouble." 'Besides, maybe he can make it,' Hogan thought to himself, knowing the Englishman had gone after penicillin. Meanwhile, Hogan would plan for what they'd do if he never returned. It would be easy enough to play it off like Newkirk had caught the flu from Rains, but it would be just as easily disproven if anyone wanted to check in on him.
Hogan refreshed the damp cloth on Rains's forehead. She muttered something about a German patrol in her fevered sleep.
"Easy, Rains, easy," he said soothingly, brushing a gentle hand down her cheek. Her skin was hot. The infection was winning.
The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow and yet, when the dawn arrived, it was still much too soon. It was ten minutes to roll call and Newkirk still hadn't returned. Making it back in the dark would have been difficult enough but now in the dawn's light it would be near impossible.
"Colonel!" Kinch hissed, opening the door to Hogan's quarters. "Someone is coming down the tunnel!"
Colonel Hogan quickly rose from his spot beside Rains. It had better be Newkirk. He and his men gathered around the hidden tunnel entrance, ready just in case it was an unwanted visitor. There always was a chance that someone had discovered the entrance out in the woods.
The false bunk rattled upwards. Everyone held their breath as they waited for whoever it was to climb up the ladder. Was it Newkirk? Had he managed to get his hands on some penicillin?
Finally, a pair of rough hands appeared, followed by a blue cap and the rest of Newkirk's body. His face was dirty and he looked exhausted but he was all in one piece.
"Where have you been?" Hogan demanded to know, his worry coming out as anger.
Newkirk pushed past them all, ignoring the question. "How is she?" He made his way straight towards Hogan's office and to Rains's side. He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his. Her eyes opened slightly.
"Peter," she whispered.
"Right here, love," he said gently. "I've got it." Newkirk reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a brown tinted bottle.
"Penicillin," Hogan said.
Newkirk nodded. "Even managed to nick a few syringes."
"Newkirk, you're a genius!" LeBeau exclaimed.
Their rejoice was cut short as they heard Schultz calling everyone out for roll call.
"Quick, hide that stuff," Hogan ordered. "We'll have to give it to her after roll call. "Newkirk, get that dirt off your face or Klink will be tearing up the place looking for tunnels."
"Right, sir."
"And you will be answering some questions later too," Hogan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
LeBeau stowed away the penicillin and syringes as Newkirk quickly gave Rains's hand another squeeze before going to wash himself up a bit. Now all they had to do was get through roll call, administer the penicillin, and pray that they weren't too late.
Piece of cake.
The prisoners all filed out into the cold morning air. The sky was clear and the sun was beginning to peak over the tree tops. The scent of winter was on the air. Maybe it would snow later. Schultz began his count, noting again that Rains was absent. Hogan confirmed that she was still sick with 'the flu.' Aside from her, the count was right as it should be.
"All present and accounted for!" Schultz reported to Klink, who stood waiting with that look on his face.
"Please don't make a speech today," Newkirk muttered under his breath.
Hogan gave him a nudge with his elbow, knowing that if Klink thought they seemed anxious, it would guarantee a long winded speech and maybe even a barracks inspection. Though, Hogan noticed that the Kommandant had a particularly smug look on his face today. One that meant there was news he was just dying to share.
"Prisoners of the third Reich," Klink began.
"Bloody hell," Newkirk breathed.
"As your Kommandant, it is my pleasure to bring you news of the war of which you are no longer a part."
Yup, it was going to be one of those speeches.
"You mean you finally surrendered?" Hogan causally called out, antagonizing the man like he normally would.
Klink glared at him briefly but continued on. "Your weak air force has once again been defeated by the illustrious Luftwaffe! Last night a supply drop for the underground was destroyed and the plane shot down over Hamburg."
'Oh no. That must have been the plane that had dropped the penicillin for Rains.'
"The pilot bailed out, but rest assured, we will find him. He will not escape from the iron jaws of the Third Reich! Diiiiiismiiiiised!"
"Colonel, you don't think-?" asked LeBeau, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
"I do," answered Hogan before the Frenchman could finish the question. "We'll worry about it later. Right now, we have to take care of Rains."
The prisoners quickly filed back into the barracks. Once the door was shut behind them, they went straight to business.
"LeBeau, get the penicillin."
"Oui, Colonel."
"Kinch, get those dosage instructions London sent you."
"Right here, Colonel." Prepared as ever, Kinch pulled them out of his inner coat pocket.
They gathered in Hogan's office. Rains lay shivering on the lower bunk. She was sweating, the blankets tangled around her.
"Kinch," Hogan said, prompting for him to read the dosage instructions as he took the penicillin bottle and syringe from LeBeau.
"30,000 units intramuscular every three hours, sir. They say the best location for it is in the… butt."
Hogan glanced at him but nodded slightly.
"Remember to shake it first," Kinch added, motioning toward the bottle.
"Already done," LeBeau said.
Hogan double checked his work. Sure enough, there was nothing settled on the bottom of the bottle. Carefully, he drew the medicine into the syringe, making sure he had the correct amount. They couldn't afford to do this wrong.
"Newkirk, help me with her," Hogan said.
Newkirk stepped up to help roll Rains onto her side, being careful of her hurt shoulder. He adjusted her pants so they would have access to the recommended injection site. Rains made a small sound of discomfort as they prepared her.
"Just hold on, Rains," Hogan said softly as he administered the shot. Hopefully they weren't too late.
They gently laid her back into a comfortable position once they were done. They straightened out her blankets and Hogan even added one from his own bunk.
"Colonel, it's cold," she murmured, opening her eyes just a little.
"I know," he said, as he tucked the blankets in around her.
Rains reached out for Hogan's wrist, grabbing it weakly, seeking comfort. "Don't go?"
"I won't," he said, taking her hand and patting it gently as her eyes shut.
"How long before it starts working?" Carter asked.
Kinch consulted his notes. "We should start to see some improvement between 12 and 24 hours. London says to keep this up for five to ten days or until her fever has broken for 48 hours.
Hogan checked his watch. "Next dose at 1200 plus twentyfive."
Now the wait had started. Newkirk took up post near Rains. He had a lot invested in her, soon he'd have to explain to the colonel just how much. He knew Colonel Hogan wasn't too happy with how he'd up and left earlier. Knew he would want to know how and where he'd gotten the penicillin. But what alternative had there been? Just let her burn up with fever and die? Or try some risky barbaric method like cauterization? Not bloody likely.
It was just before noon when the time came for him to explain his actions.
"Newkirk," Hogan said, his voice low as he closed the door to his quarters.
"Colonel."
Hogan pulled a chair from the table and turned it to face Newirk. "Where'd you get it?" he asked, cutting to the point.
Newkirk looked down at his hand, in which he was holding Rains's. "I got it from the hospital in Hammelberg."
Hogan watched him, his expression remaining neutral as he waited for the corporal to finish explaining himself.
"I disguised myself as a civilian. Had to duck into rooms until I found the chemist. Waited until a nurse needed something, and ducked past him as he prepared medicine, and helped myself to their stock." Newkirk said, finally looking up at Hogan.
"What were you thinking? You put us all at risk. You could have been captured and executed as a spy!"
"What was I supposed to do? Sit here and watch her die?"
"No. We would have figured something out."
"Like what, cauterization?"
"Newkirk."
"The woods were loaded with Krauts. No underground contact would have gotten in. They wouldn't have risked it."
"That didn't mean you had to go and risk your neck."
"It was better than the alternative."
"The alternative was getting Schneider to bring some in when he switched out the dogs this morning."
Newkirk started at Hogan. Schneider and the dogs, he hadn't thought of them. "Sorry sir," he said quietly.
"You got back. You got the penicillin. For that, good work. But if you ever go off half cocked like that again, you will be facing a court martial."
"Yes, sir," Newkirk said, looking guilty and a little proud. He looked over at Rains, still fevered but resting easily. "You think she'll be alright?"
Hogan looked over at Rains. Maybe he was imagining it, it was far too soon for the penicillin to really work, but maybe she was breathing easier. "I'd say she's got a good chance now. Now go get some dinner, I'll stay with her. That's an order." Hogan added when Newkirk looked like he might decline.
As Newkirk left, Hogan took his spot beside Rains. 'So he thought we might try cauterization,' he thought as he carefully peeled back the bandages to check her wound and change them.
He shuttered, thinking about the brutality of cauterization. It was like a medical term for torture. Of course, now would not have been the time for cauterization, that would have been done right after she'd been shot, before infection could have set in, and only if they couldn't stop the bleeding. But still, he could almost hear the way Rains might have screamed if it had come to that. No wonder Newkirk had gone off like he did.
Hogan rebandaged the wound, still thinking about the whole situation at hand, he began absentmindedly running his hand through her hair. Rains made a small noise of discomfort.
"Shh…" Hogan said. "You're going to be alright. You can thank Newkirk for that."
Hogan was grateful for what the Englishman had done, though his method could have been better. Hogan's hand paused in Rains's hair. Could he have cauterized a wound if he had to? Inflict that level of pain on a person, on a woman? Of course it was pointless to think about, which was exactly why he was thinking about it. Hogan shook his head as imagined screams filled his mind. Maybe he could do it. Hopefully he'd never have to find out.
"Colonel?" a soft whisper interrupted his thoughts.
It was Rains, her eyes barely open and staring at him.
"Thirsty," she said.
Hogan took the cup off the table and helped Rains sit up enough so she could drink.
"You should try to drink more," Hogan said after she stopped drinking after taking only a few sips. Dehydration could only make things worse.
Rains, ever obedient, took a few more sips before pushing Hogan's hand away. He helped her settle back into a comfortable position.
"Colonel?" she whispered as her eyes began to drift shut.
"Hmm?"
"You look terrible," she murmured, almost a smile on her face.
Hogan let out an amused breath. "You should see yourself, Rains."
"Got shot," she muttered.
"I know, just rest."
"It's cold," Rains said, her voice growing fainter as exhaustion claimed her. She moved a little so that her head was resting against Hogan's leg. After she started to doze off, his hand resumed its path through her hair, a comforting gesture for both of them.
Hogan checked his watch, it was nearing 1300 hours. Five more hours and they might know if the penicillin was helping. Five more hours and they might see some improvement. But how long until she was well enough to pass as being fit in the eyes of Schultz and Klink? He could only use the flu excuse for so long. Just to stand at roll call shouldn't take too long after her fever broke, likely just a few days, maybe an extra one to help her regain her strength. He and Newkirk could keep her upright for that if they needed to. But what about work detail? What about calisthenics? Klink would certainly notice her consistent absence from them.
And what about that flyer who'd been shot down? Was there a way they could locate him? He'd know where Stalag 13 was, maybe he was trying to get to them right now. He'd have to send a couple men out to look for him after evening roll call.