((If you're reading this but have never heard of Hogan's Heroes, let me tell you. It's an old comedy about allied prisoners in a POW camp in Germany who carry out undercover missions right under the noses of the Germans. Naturally the perfect setting for a Hetalia fanfiction. Seriously, look it up. It's really funny, and if you like Hetalia, I think you'd like Hogan's Heroes.))

Monday

Colonel Hogan, the senior ranking officer in the POW camp Stalag 13, was in barracks 2 playing poker with his fellow prisoners, Sergeant Carter, Corporal Lebeau, and Corporal Newkirk when he heard a knocking at the bunk with led to their secret tunnels underground.

"Let him up," Hogan said without looking up from his cards. The short Frenchman Lebeau went to open the trapdoor allowing Sergeant Kinchloe to come back into the barracks.

"What've ya got, Kinch?" Hogan asked as the African American handed him a piece of paper.

"Orders from London," he replied.

" 'Two important German officers in the area with potential vital information,' " Hogan paraphrased, "Newkirk, do you have those German uniforms all patched up like I asked?"

"They're all stitched up quite nicely, sir," the Briton replied.

"Perfect. Lebeau, what's for dinner tonight?"

"Bouillabaisse,"

"Save some for me, I might be out for a while."

"Too bad I couldn't get my hands on any high quality saffron. Apparently there's a war on."

"Now what could the krauts possibly want with high quality saffron?" ((Cue audience laugh, lol)) No one had time to answer Hogan's rhetorical question before Sergeant Shultz came into the barracks.

Sergeant Shultz was a rather large German soldier and the Sergeant of the Guard. Although he may not look threatening… I'm just kidding, he's not threatening at all. The prisoners barely have to bribe Shultz with food for him to keep quiet about the goings-on in the camp.

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants to see you in his office."

"Oh, what is it now Shultz? Can't you see we're in the middle of a game?" Hogan asked sarcastically.

"The kommandant said it's very important."

"Of course. Alright, well, I fold," Hogan said dropping his aces face-up on the table. He walked himself over to Klink's office building and greeted Klink's secretary, Hilda, with a kiss. Hilda was, of course, in on the prisoners whole operation and had a bit of an ongoing flirtatious relationship with Hogan. Soon after he marched into Klink's office.

"You wanted to see me, Klink?" he asked almost casually.

"Do you take Stalag 13 as a joke, Colonel Hogan?" Klink asked in his serious voice.

"Sometimes, but only if the joke's funny," Hogan quipped. The kommandant obviously did not find it so as he slammed his hand down on the desk.

"Hogan," Klink addressed, "your men have been displaying a ridiculous level of insubordination lately."

"I hear it's because they don't like Germans," Again, Klink slammed his hand down, this time standing up to face Hogan.

"I found this in my schnapps glass this morning- my schnapps glass!" Klink said holding up a baseball, "Came flying in through the window."

"Wow. Hole in one."

"Hogan, if you don't control your men I'll have no choice but no cancel your recreational period."

"Ooh, that's low, sir, even for you," Hogan said sarcastically. Klink didn't pick up on it.

"Well, that's why they call me the Iron Kommandant," he said proudly- no, vainly. "Did you know that I was once named Kommandant of the Year?"

"Yes, sir, I was there." Hogan responded. The whole "Kommandant of the Year" thing had actually been a set-up from Hogan to buy them time to get pictures of a new rocket. Klink became incredibly gullible whenever his feathers were fluffed, and Hogan had used that to his advantage many times in the past.

"And that's exactly why you wouldn't dare cancel recreational period," Hogan continued.

"I wouldn't?" Klink asked, completely thrown off. Hogan was in charge now. As he explained he walked up and took two cigars from the box on Klink's desk and offered him one.

"No! The Iron Kommandant," he paused, "such a lovely title… The Iron Kommandant, beloved by everyone, admired by even his own prisoners. Why I even heard the men talking the other day about how much they loved your 'control them with kindness' attitude that they almost didn't want to escape!"

"Really?" the kommandant asked in surprise, "Well, there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13!" Klink said, his vanity showing.

"Exactly. And you wouldn't want to lose their admiration, now would you? Here, do you have a light?" Hogan asked, holding up the cigar.

"Oh, yes, of course!" Klink said, happily lighting the cigar for Hogan.

"Now, was there anything else you wanted to see me about, Klink?" Hogan asked, pouring himself a glass of Schnapps and sitting himself down in Klink's desk and resting his feet up on it.

"Oh, no, that was it."

"Well, then, dismissed!" Hogan said, saluting. Klink saluted back and started towards the door before realizing.

"Hogan!" he shouted before taking the cigar and schnapps glass out of Hogan's hand and ordering him out the door.

Back at the barracks, Hogan changed into his custom-made German general's uniform. He slicked his hair back and adorned himself with a tiny fake mustache.

"Now the two Germans will be staying at The Hofbrau not too far from the camp. London didn't give a rank- just said they were very important. Supposedly they have information regarding new weapons development, troops- you name it. London specifically wants to know about a new type of U-boat being proposed, however any information is highly valuable," Hogan explained to the others before climbing down into the tunnels, "I should be back before morning. Cover for me if Shultz does a bed check."

And with that Hogan disappeared into the tunnels and out one of the openings outside of camp- this particular one to a hollowed out tree stump- and then off to The Hofbrau to do a bit of espionage.