This story was written by -- not one, but four
Different authors, who wanted to try something more,
Say, unique; to a challenge they answered for you.
I hope that you like it as much as we do!

Disclaimer: The Hogan's Heroes characters we do not own. They belong to others; they're just here on loan.

The Quivering Colonel

"Colonel! Colonel Hogan!" Hogan looked up at Carter with his big brown puppy dog eyes and whimpered.

"Pull yourself together Sir!" Gee, how did he get those wings, anyway? Carter held out his hand to pull the officer up off the floor of corner of the cell where he was huddled. Hogan lost his grip and let out a plaintive sigh, plus another whimper. "Okay, I've had it." Carter slapped Hogan's face, but got no reaction. He slapped it again.

"Carter?" Hogan sprung up. "Gee, thanks, I needed that! Don't know what came over me!"

"Femaleauthoritis, sir! Wilson looked it up on WebMd. Don't worry, it's not fatal. You'll always be rescued. And it can't be caught by enlisted men! It only seems to hit handsome leading men in their late thirties who have flown multiple combat missions over Germany and who have the wings to prove it.

"Femaleauthoritis!" Hogan mulled that over. "Remind me to look into that, Carter, and see if there's any recourse."

"Take em to court, sir. Sue the pants off of them!"

Gee, why don't I ever get any female action in a story? Carter wondered as he led the Colonel out of the cell. How long were they going to have to babysit him this time?

Then he sighed in relief as they left the building, Hogan was completely back to normal and checking the ladies out.

Hogan was in Klink's outer office, flirting with Hilda, when suddenly a terrible wave of panic flooded through him. No, not again! I have to get out of here! He turned and fled the office, leaving a very confused Hilda behind. Then he practically ran across the compound and into his quarters, barricading himself inside.

The men saw him fly by from their seats at the common room table, and sighed. Here we go again!

Newkirk got up and walked over to the door. He rapped on it a few times, and said, "Colonel? Colonel, it's me, Newkirk. You can come out now, gov'nor; none of us are goin' to hurt you."

"No! Leave me alone!" came Hogan's muffled voice through the door. Then a new sound reached Newkirk's ears, and he turned to look at the other men, shaking his head in disgust.

"Blimey, he's cryin' again!"

"Carter, you know the drill," Kinch said, "Go get Wilson."

Newkirk sighed, he couldn't stand to hear his commanding officer cry. "I'll try to talk to 'im." He opened the door, to see Hogan curled up in a ball on his bunk. "Colonel?"

Hogan sniffled.

Newkirk sat on the side of the bunk. "Colonel, ya don't have to feel alone, ya know."

At that, Hogan sat up and wiped his eyes.

"We're not just soldiers under ya command," Newkirk continued. "We're ya friends, too, and we're here for ya."

Hogan gave a muffled sob at that, and threw himself into Newkirk's arms. "Thank you, Newkirk! That makes me feel so much better!"

Newkirk blinked with surprise, but hugged him back. "There there, Colonel. Everythin' will be fine."

Hogan sniffled into the front of Newkirk's jacket.

Newkirk sighed and patted Hogan's back, looking longingly at the door, hoping that someone would open it.

After what seemed like an eternity, Wilson came in the door, and looked on the scene with sympathy.

"Colonel, Wilson's here to take a look at ya."

*sniff*

Newkirk tried to pry himself away, but Hogan was holding on like a vise. "Colonel, you can let go o' me, now..."

"But I don't want to, Newkirk! I feel safe!"

Newkirk turned almost-panicked eyes on Wilson when Hogan's hold became air-constricting. "But you're safe anyway, sir! We're in your quarters at the stalag, an' you're...cuttin' off...my...air...!"

Wilson hurried forward and tried to pry Hogan's arms away from Newkirk, but the colonel wouldn't budge. "Guys!" Wilson yelled. "Get in here!"

Newkirk could feel his face turning purple as everyone rushed into the room, and joined into the tug-of-war. Finally, Carter and Kinch pulled Newkirk free with almost an audible *pop*, all three of them falling onto the floor.

Newkirk gasped loudly when air returned to his lungs, and lay there on the floor, in relief. He spared a glance at Hogan, who was sitting there staring into space, not even realizing that he'd almost smothered one of his men.

Hands were suddenly helping Newkirk up from the floor, and he unsteadily pointed at Hogan while looking at Wilson. "Fix 'im!" he said, before stumbling out the door.

Hogan carefully tried to back away from the medic and his ever-present hypodermic needle. "Joe," he whimpered as he found himself now with no place to go, since he had stupidly headed in the direction of his bunk. "I can't, I can't take it anymore. Every time I show up in Klink's office, some maniac drags me out of the camp...But, no more drugs. I know I need to pull myself together. If not for me, for the men. Sniff." Hogan stood up and defiantly glared at the medic, daring him to come closer and jab the needle into his arm.

The medic slowly walked forward, inch by inch, step by step. "Colonel," he said in that soothing voice he used when he was in private practice and was about to give a child a vaccination, "You attacked Newkirk. You almost cut off his airway, breathing and circulation. Now, I know you aren't thinking straight. And who can blame you...But..."

Hogan's legs bumped up against the bunk, and he lost his balance and sat down, hard. Wilson closed the distance and leaned over him. "Come on, Colonel, just give me your arm…"

"No!" Hogan shouted, and began to scoot back across the mattress, toward the wall.

Wilson stood up and sighed. "I was afraid of this. Kinch, I may need your help."

"Femaleauthoritis, again?" Kinch asked.

Wilson nodded. "I'm afraid so. He's going to continue to have flare-ups until it runs its natural course."

"Geez, is there anything we can do, doc?" Carter asked; then looked at Hogan, who had pushed himself flat up against the wall.

Wilson shrugged. "You can try talking to him."

"Okay," Carter replied, and began to approach Hogan slowly. "Colonel, you're all right; everything's okay, no one's going to hurt you…"

"No!" Hogan shouted again, staring at Carter, wide-eyed, "Stay away! Don't touch me! Just leave me alone!" He drew his knees to his chest and began to rock slowly back and forth.

Carter rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's just embarrassing!" he snorted, and stomped out of the room.

"Here, let me try," Kinch said as he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bunk. "Colonel, listen to me. You're not in any danger; there's no reason for you to be afraid…"

"Those men…all trying to hurt me…all trying to, to kill me!" Hogan squeaked out, looking terrified.

Kinch's brow furrowed with confusion. "What are you talking about, sir? What men?"

Hogan's mouth worked for a moment, but nothing came out. At last he pointed to the window and uttered, "All of them!"

LeBeau, who was standing in front of the window, turned around and peeked out. His eyes grew wide as saucers as they beheld a line of men stretching from the window, all the way back to the nearest guard tower. The bulk of them appeared to be rogue Gestapo Majors, but there were a few Generals of various branches of the German military, and a couple of mad, evil scientists thrown in for good measure. All of them were touting various weapons of torture, designed to harm Hogan in the worst possible ways. There were whips and chains, knives and scalpels, credit cards with Hogan's name on them and their corresponding pin numbers, ropes and handcuffs, and a few of the men were holding up syringes. A few others were brandishing clubs, and were tapping them lightly onto the palms of their empty hands. And they were all carrying guns.

LeBeau stared at the menagerie of evildoers for a few moments in complete shock. Then he turned around and, slapping his hands to his cheeks, exclaimed, "Sacre chat! He's right!"

Newkirk, after getting his breath back, peeked into the colonel's quarters and saw everyone looking out the window, except for Hogan, who was rocking himself on his bunk. "What's goin' on out there?" He walked in and looked out, in shock to see the crowd of Germans ready to attack.

"Blimey! We gotta do somethin' about these authors!"

Looking at Hogan, he went over and grabbed him by the arms. "Snap out of it, sir! Somethin' tells me that you're the only one who can do somethin' about this!"

Hogan momentarily stopped rocking. He looked up at Newkirk, the blank expression on his face, now replaced by a look of utter determination. "Newkirk, get me the yellow pages. LeBeau, fetch me a cup of coffee. Kinch, power up the radio, telephone, and my blackberry. Carter, get dressed; General, Luftwaffe. No, make that Gestapo… No, wait, make that Abwehr. Never mind, make it Wehrmacht. And someone find me Olsen." Hogan took off his cap and started to remove his bomber jacket. "We're playing decoy!"

Olsen, who had taken one look outside the window, unfortunately had other plans. Why am I the only one who has to pretend to be the Colonel? I never get the credit. Hell with this. I'm the Outside Man, and that's where I'm going. The sergeant, now in severe danger of losing his mojo, headed for Kinch's bunk.

Kinch saw Olsen trying to make an escape and stepped in his way. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm not playing decoy this time. Have you seen that line of maniacs? If any one of those authors decided to come after me I'd be dead meat! One of them has already killed me and I don't want to die again. Hogan got himself in this mess and he can get himself out of it," Olsen said defiantly, trying to move around the radioman.

Kinch crossed his arms and stood in front of his bunk, not allowing Olsen access to the tunnel, when they heard their names being called. Carter came over and pulled Olsen back into the Colonel's office.

"Kinch, we're going to need you up here, someone have Baker man the radio. Olsen, you're going to stay in the barracks as a reserve for right now," Hogan ordered, pulling himself back together. Then a strange noise startled Hogan and he jumped back; covering his head with his arms and cowering in the corner.

"Colonel, it's okay. It's just your blackberry connecting to the internet," Carter said, trying to calm him down. "Here look, it's all ready for you to use it."

Hogan slowly lowered his arms and looked at the little device; then with a shaky hand he reached out and took it from Carter. Once it was in his hands, Hogan snapped out of it and started passing out orders. "Kinch, you're going to put on my uniform and take off across the compound."

"What? No one would believe I'm you! That's nuts, sir," Kinch looked at Hogan then over at Wilson. Maybe they needed to sedate him after all.

"Precisely! None of the authors would ever think of writing you like me, and it'll give us our best advantage," Hogan replied with a lop-sided grin. Then he proceeded to type Femaleauthoritis into the search engine on his blackberry.

Meanwhile, the line of nefarious and nasty no- goodniks was in severe danger of getting out of hand. Fortunately, a malevolent Gestapo major's sidekick, who was of course plotting behind his back, was an efficiency expert, and he quickly set up a rope system to organize the mass of evildoers waiting to get their hands on the colonel.

"When do I get my shot at him?" one of the many majors demanded.

"Look," The sidekick pointed. "The sign reads, '30 minute wait from this point'."

"Don't I get a fastpass?" A general, who had somehow slipped through, asked.

"What do you think this is? A freaking ride? You'll wait your turn like everyone else. Sheesh," the sidekick grumbled. He quickly sidestepped the Borg and the Vogon reciting poetry and walked away.

Back at the camp, a group of brave and rugged prisoners who resided in a barracks across the compound, was observing the scenario.

"We should do something," the barracks chief stated as he looked out the window. "Normally, I would say that the boys over in barracks two would have this type of situation under control. But, this is sort of getting out of hand."

"And what, may I ask, do you suggest?" A corporal, who was normally seen walking back and forth across the compound, was not too keen on getting involved. After all, he didn't even have an equity card.

"Let's do it for the colonel. After all, without him, where would we be? Well?" the barracks chief stared at his crew. Finally, after a few minutes of grumbling, the men agreed to attempt an attack.

The 15 men scrounged around the hut, looking for anything that they could use as a weapon, piling whatever they found on the table near the stove. They quickly realized that only the men in barracks two were armed, and they proceeded to discard their booty, leaving them with only one option.

"This will have to do," the barracks chief told the men as he began to set up their weapon of choice. "Are we ready? Go ahead. Blast it."

The now organized queue of assorted villains stopped their advance for a moment, as the record player and speakers the boys in the other barracks had set up, began to play elevator music at maximum volume.

Carter who had changed into the Wehrmacht uniform, and was watching the colonel commune with his blackberry, suddenly had an epiphany and said, "You know, sir. I have something to say that sort of affects me. 'You can fool some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time but you can't fool all of the people all of the time'. What if this time is that time?"

Klink heard commotion outside of his office and went to the window and saw the long line of Germans waiting to get their hands on Hogan. He walked out to the front steps and began yelling for Schultz. "SCHULTZ! SCHUUULLLLLLLLTTTZZZZ!"

The large guard came running over as fast as his body would allow him. "Yes, Herr Kommandant?" he answered out of breath.

"Who are all these people and what are they doing in my prison camp?" He demanded, looking from the start of the line to the back, which seemed to have grown since he was standing there.

"They're Gestapo and various other branches of the military; all here for Colonel Hogan," Schultz replied, looking at the line. He shivered, thinking about the plans they had for the American.

"This is a prison camp, not a laboratory. Get them out of here!" Klink was angry.

"But…but…but…the authors sent them. You want me to tell Gestapo and Generals to get out?" Schultz was turning pale.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do," Klink ordered; then, noticing Schultz shaking, decided he'd better do it. "Just keep the prisoners back. And go to my quarters and bring back my secret weapon. Where did they get that music that's blaring? It's giving me a headache." Klink didn't wait for an answer as he swaggered over to the head of the line. Using a megaphone he got everyone's attention.

"Testing, testing," Klink said loudly into the megaphone, "May I have everyone's attention, please?"

All heads turned in his direction, including the line of villains at the ropes. Schultz returned, carrying a long black case in his hands. He set it down near the Kommandant and waited.

"First of all, I want that horrible music turned off, right now!" Klink directed his gaze toward the barracks where the speakers were set up outside; blaring a particularly schmaltzy tune at maximum volume.

The barracks chief hurriedly ran over and stopped the record player. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but, alas, it was short-lived.

"That's better," Klink shouted into the megaphone, and then he leaned down and picked something up from a familiarly shaped case that was resting on the ground by his feet. As he stood up, everyone saw what it was, and silently groaned; it was Klink's violin!

Klink put the megaphone back to his lips and yelled, "All right, if it's music you want, I will show you what real music sounds like!" He handed the megaphone to Schultz, who held it up in front of the Kommandant while he positioned the violin underneath his chin, and began to play.

Pandemonium broke out in the camp as the prisoners covered their ears and ran for their respective barracks. The guards tried to keep tabs on them, keeping their rifles at the ready, but they couldn't hold out long, and soon their rifles were being tossed to the ground as they, too, covered their ears.

The line of evildoers yelled in protest, and after enduring it as long as they could, began to disperse; fleeing the camp in droves. A few of them shook their fists and vowed to return; then they joined their cohorts in the mass exodus.

As soon as the rogue Gestapo majors, German generals, and assorted evil scientists were gone, Klink stopped playing. A collective sigh of relief rose up from the camp, and the guards picked up their rifles and resumed their positions.

Klink turned to Schultz and, with a smile on his face, said, "Worked like a charm."

"Cor, blimey, Guv'nor," Newkirk had been watching the entertainment from the window in the colonel's office. "Klink did it! The violin! They all ran like rats on a sinkin' ship."

There was no response from Hogan, who was now hiding under the blankets.

Newkirk turned. Oh, no, not again! "Sir, this is really juvenile. C'mon," Newkirk pulled back the blanket, revealing the colonel's face. "They're all gone. Go 'ave a look."

"Can't," Hogan sniffed. "They'll be back. With earplugs. And then they'll take me. And then you four will go out after them, and one of you will get yourself shot or trampled or killed; and then…sniff…it will all be my fault, because you are all my utter and complete and total responsibility!"

Acting like this? Newkirk shook his head in exasperation. "Wilson!!!!! 'E's at it again!"

Wilson, who had been cowering in the main barracks with the rest of the men, his hands clamped firmly over his ears, realized at the same time as everyone else that the music – if it could be called that – had stopped. He heard Newkirk call his name and hurried into Hogan's office. "What's happened now?" he asked as his eyes fell on Hogan.

"What do you think's 'appened?" Newkirk replied disgustedly, "It's that ruddy Femaleauthoritis; he's 'avin' another attack. Blimey, Wilson, when's the colonel goin' to snap out of it for good?"

"Soon, I hope," Wilson muttered as he held up a syringe. He walked over to Hogan, who shrank back against the wall.

"No, don't drug me, please! I have to stay awake or they'll come and get me!"

Wilson glanced at Newkirk. "You're going to have to help me out, here."

Newkirk joined Wilson's side, and as soon as the Englishman had a firm grip on Hogan's arm, Wilson jabbed the needle in and injected the colonel with the sedative.

"Nooo!" Hogan wailed, "I don't want to sleep! I want to…" He let out a huge yawn, "To stay awake…" His eyes closed, and he was out.

"Well, that shut 'im up!" Newkirk snorted with relief. He looked at Wilson. "You think the gov'nor'll be back to normal when he wakes up?" he asked.

"I don't know, Corporal. We'll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, he shouldn't be left alone; someone needs to sit with him."

Newkirk's eyebrow shot up. "Why?"

"Because, uh, um," Wilson paused, looking confused, "Because that's just the way we always do it," he finished at last.

Newkirk contemplated that for a moment. "All right then, I'll do it," he volunteered.

Wilson smiled and clapped Newkirk on the shoulder. "Good man. I'll be outside if you need me."

Wilson left, and Newkirk took a seat. He looked at Hogan and shook his head; muttering under his breath, "You better get well soon, sir; I don't want to spend the rest of the war babysittin' you!"

"Colonel, oh Colonel; open your eyes…" a chorus of voices called out, reaching Hogan's ears and making him cringe in fear.

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

"Oh, yes we can," the voices said, swirling around him, "We know you don't want us to go after one of your men…"

Cautiously, Hogan opened one eye. It was dark, and he couldn't see anything, so he opened his other eye and sat up, looking around the room. Suddenly the lights came on, and his eyes widened in terror at the throng of bad guys crowded around his bunk. They were the same evildoers from outside his window, and they were standing there, smirking at him; once again brandishing weapons of all sorts.

"No!" Hogan shouted, "Go away! Leave me alone!" He scooted back toward the wall, in a futile attempt to escape.

"Oh, but you simply must come with us," the closest rogue Gestapo major replied as he reached out and grabbed Hogan's arm.

Hogan shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them again, he was sitting in a chair in the middle of an enormous room. His arms were tied behind his back, and the nefarious villains were milling about in front of him, staring at him with evil glee, while honing up their skills in anticipation of what they each planned to do to him.

"Guess what I'm going to do to you?" one of the Gestapo majors said as he juggled a couple of knives in front of him.

"And when he's through, it will be my turn," an SS General piped up, pushing the major out of the way and smacking a club menacingly into his other hand.

"Then me!" an evil scientist stepped forward, waving a syringe.

"No, let me go! I'll kill you all!" Hogan yelled, and then suddenly his expression changed to confusion. "Wait a minute; you're not real, are you? I'm just having a nightmare. You can't hurt me," he said, and leaned back in his chair with relief.

"Yes we can!" The knife-wielding Gestapo major shouted, and lunged at him. After a few thrusts with his knives, he stood back to admire his handiwork. His jaw dropped when he saw Hogan sitting there, smiling at him, completely unscathed.

"See? I told you so!" Hogan teased.

"What? That's not possible!" The General leaped forward and began to bring his club down repeatedly on their prisoner.

Hogan chuckled. "Hey, that tickles!"

A few more of the no-goodniks joined in, bringing all their weapons to bear, and after several minutes of pummeling Hogan, stopped and retreated; to gloat and congratulate each other.

Hogan yawned. "Are you guys through? 'Cause I'm getting bored."

"This can't be!" The Gestapo major exclaimed, "There must be some way to torture him!"

One of the ne'er-do- well General's lackeys spoke up. "Hey, I've got an idea! I'll be right back." He rushed out of the room, returning a few minutes later, followed by a large group of women.

As they neared, Hogan began to recognize them: Helga, Hilda, Tiger, that Gestapo agent Anna Mannheim, the woman who runs the Hoffbrau, and a half-dozen or so female agents and local girls that he'd spent some 'quality' time with.

The General's aide directed them to line up in front of Hogan, and as they turned to face the American Colonel, there was one thing the women had in common.

They were all very noticeably pregnant.

Hogan gasped with shock and almost tipped the chair backwards, as the sight made all the breath instantly leave his lungs.

"And that's not all!" the General's aide exclaimed, dashing from the room and bringing back a minister and a woman dressed in a long, flowing, white wedding gown.

Hogan saw that the woman had a white veil over her face, hiding her identity. The General's aide guided the woman over to stand next to Hogan, while the minister took up a position directly in front of the couple.

"Colonel Hogan, this is your lucky day," the General's aide announced, "You are getting married!" He nodded at the minister.

Hogan looked between the group of angry women and his unexpected bride, feeling completely dazed.

The minister cleared his throat and began, "Dearly beloved, we have gathered you here today, to…"

As the minister continued his speech, Hogan looked apprehensively up at the woman standing next to him. She must have noticed his gaze, because she slid her arm underneath the veil, and lifted it from her face.

It was Gertrude Linkmeyer.

"NOOOOOOO!" Hogan practically screamed as he bolted up from the bunk.

Newkirk was at his side in at instant. He reached up and laid a comforting hand on Hogan's shoulder. "Sir, take it easy, you were 'avin' a nightmare!" And a real doozy by the sound of it!

Hogan grabbed Newkirk by the arms. "No! Get her away from me! Get them ALL away from me!"

"Who, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"The Germans! THE GIRLS!"

"Girls?!"

Hogan looked around wildly, as if trying to find them. "I can't support a wife and all of THEM, too!"

Newkirk frowned. Wife? "Calm down, Colonel, there's no girls 'ere, an' ya don't 'ave a wife!"

Hogan blinked and looked around again, seeming to come to himself. "Newkirk! It's you!"

"Very good, sir."

"I'm back in the barracks!"

"That's right, Colonel."

"Gertrude Linkmeyer isn't my wife!"

Newkirk's eyebrows shot up. "Gertrude Linkmeyer?!"

Hogan closed his eyes with relief. "And twelve women AREN'T having my child!"

"WHAT?!"

Hogan's eyes popped open, and he smiled. "Oh thank you, Newkirk, you're always here when I need you!"

Newkirk gulped. If Hogan tried to hug/strangle him again, he'd slug him.

Suddenly, Hogan's face crumpled, and he sniffed. "Why did they do that to me?"

Newkirk inwardly sighed. Oh for goodness-bloody-sake! "Who, Colonel?"

"The Germans!" he said, with a sniff. "As if they haven't already tortured me enough!"

"There there, sir," Newkirk said, patting his shoulder. "Ya don't 'ave ta worry about the Germans while we're around. We'll keep ya safe from them."

"And the girls too?"

*blink* "Sure, gov...an' the girls."

Hogan smiled, before suddenly frowning. "Wait! This is all wrong!"

Newkirk frowned. Hogan's moods changed so fast that he couldn't keep up with them. "Wrong?"

"Yes, it's all wrong! You're not supposed to take care of me! I'M supposed to take care of you and the others! You're MY responsibility, I'm not yours!"

Newkirk shook his head. "No sir, we're all each other's responsibility--"

"No! Every prisoner is under my command, which makes me in charge of keeping you all safe, healthy, and happy!"

Blimey, e's gone bloody crackers! Newkirk thought. "Colonel, no one's perfect or invincible. We all look out for each other."

Hogan stared at him for a minute. "Wait...I'm not perfect?"

Newkirk dropped his face into one hand. Will this nonsense ever bloody end?!

"Well, Corporal? I asked you a question."

Newkirk, who was developing a massive tension headache, looked up at the colonel. "And what would that be, again, sir?"

Hogan was half-angry and half-confused. "I said, and I quote: 'I'm not perfect?'" Now miraculously switching to coherent mode, he rolled off his bunk and stood face-to-face with the now terrified Englishman.

"Um, yes, sir. You did indeed ask me that question." I'd better think fast, or I'll be a private before this day's over. Why am I always the one left alone with 'im? Newkirk began to back up towards the door, hoping that behind it he would find either a diversion or someone brave enough to bail him out. "You know, Colonel. People do say you 'ave the best 'air in the European theater. I've 'eard that! And with all that angst and torture; never a 'air out of place. And your plannin', sir, you're up for a medal… Most convoluted plot devices thrust upon evildoers in the decade!"

With his pathetic attempt at a snow-job leaving Hogan momentarily stymied by the boost to his ego, Newkirk slowly opened the door and called for the one man who could possibly regain control over this utterly ridiculous situation. The one man, who, when Hogan was in jeopardy, took charge. The one man, who, when Hogan was unconscious or in la-la-land from morphine, could come up with the perfect tale, often the mysterious disease of the week, to keep Schultz cowering in fear and Klink away from the barracks.

"Kinch!" Newkirk cried.

Kinch came running into Hogan's quarters. "What is it now?" he asked, eyeing the colonel; noting the confused expression on his face.

Just then LeBeau appeared in the doorway. "They're back!" he exclaimed, slightly out of breath.

"What? Who's back?" Newkirk asked.

"All those Gestapo majors and generals and evil scientists… They've broken through the front gate, and are on their way here right now!"

"Blimey! What are we goin' to do, Kinch? We can't let 'em take the gov'nor…" Newkirk glanced around the room, "Hey, where did he go?"

"Nooo!" came a voice from under the bottom bunk, "Don't let them take me! Make them go away!"

LeBeau walked over and squatted down, peering underneath the bunk. "Mon Colonel! What are you doing under there?"

"All right, I've had enough of this!" Kinch shouted. He grabbed Hogan's jacket and crush cap, and put them on. "I'll go act as a decoy, get them to follow me, while you two get the colonel below. I think it's time we send him back to London, don't you?"

"Oui, Kinch. I don't see how we can get any missions done with him cowering in his quarters all the time."

"Wait a minute," Newkirk said to Kinch, "Just 'ow do you plan on gettin' that mob to follow you? You don't look like the colonel."

"You have a point," Kinch answered; then stuck his head out the door. "Hey, Olsen, get in here!"

Olsen got up from the corner he was sulking in, and came over. As he entered the room, Kinch handed him an extra jacket and crush cap of the colonel's.

"Here, put these on," Kinch told him.

Olsen's eyes widened. "But I don't want to be a decoy! I thought you were going to do it!"

"We're both going to do it," Kinch stated, "I'll go one way, and you go the other. They're bound to follow one of us."

"Yeah, and it's probably going to be me," Olsen muttered unhappily.

"All right, Newkirk, LeBeau, you know what to do," Kinch said. Then he and Olsen headed out of the barracks.

When they got outside, they looked toward the gate, and, sure enough, the mob of evildoers was advancing across the compound. Some of them were waving their weapons, and more than a few of them had earmuffs on; to protect themselves from any further attacks by Klink's violin. They spotted the two 'colonels' emerging from Barracks two and charged.

Kinch and Olsen took off, splitting into opposite directions. The mob split up as well; half of them following Kinch, the other half chasing after Olsen. The rest of the prisoners scattered, and the guards just stood there, watching the commotion; not knowing what to do.

Klink heard the noise in the compound, and stomped out of his office. He stood on the porch, completely stupefied at the pandemonium going on in his camp. After a few moments he raised his fist and shook it in the air, while yelling angrily, "You there, all of you…this is my camp! Stop chasing Colonel Hogan and get out!"

Meanwhile, Newkirk and LeBeau were still trying to get Hogan out from underneath his bunk.

"Come on, Colonel, I'll make you some nice crepe suzette, how does that sound?" LeBeau offered.

"I'd rather have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," Hogan sniffed.

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "All right sir, we'll get you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if you'll just come out of there."

"I want the sandwich first," Hogan whined, "Then maybe I'll come out."

Newkirk looked at LeBeau. "Louis, I give up. He's gone 'round the bend this time. I don't see 'ow to get 'im to come out of there."

LeBeau thought for a minute; then his eyes lit up with an idea. "I know! Let's get Wilson! Maybe he can sedate him again!"

"Nooo!" Hogan wailed from underneath the bunk, "I'll have another nightmare!"

Newkirk shook his head. "Blimey, we 'ave to do somethin', before those evil blokes get tired of chasin' Kinch and Olsen, and come lookin' in 'ere for the colonel."

Back in the compound, Kinch and Olsen were leading a merry chase, and the crowd of evildoers was getting out of control; running between the buildings, around the guard towers, passing by the kennel and upsetting the dogs. Klink was still standing on the porch, shaking his fist, when a car pulled into the camp, coming to a stop in front of Klink's office. A Wehrmacht General got out and climbed up the steps to the porch. He picked up the megaphone which just happened to be sitting there, and, putting it to his lips, turned to the mob.

"All right, listen up!" the general, aka Carter, shouted.

The nefarious no-goodniks stopped in their tracks, and looked up at the speaker on the porch.

When Carter had their attention, he continued. "All of you Gestapo majors, generals, and scientists – you know who you are! You have five minutes to leave this camp, or you will all be sent to the Russian Front! I have already arranged for your transportation, so if you don't wish to go, I suggest you leave immediately!"

The bad guys stood there for a moment, glancing at each other. Then they began to make a mad dash for the exit.

"And if you come back," Carter yelled as he watched them scurry, "I will have you arrested and shot – and THEN sent to the Russian Front!"

That got them moving faster. Within minutes the camp was clear of the uninvited villains, and order was once again restored.

Klink turned to Carter and said, "Thank you, General…?"

"Carterheim."

"Thank you, General Carterheim! If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know."

"That won't be necessary, Klink," Carter stated, "I only wish to visit Colonel Hogan, to make sure he is all right, and then I will be leaving."

"Yes, General, by all means," Klink said, "Would you like an escort?"

"No," Carter replied; then added as he walked away, "Thanks anyway, buddy!"

Carter strode across the compound, reaching the door to the barracks at the same time as Kinch and Olsen. The two Hogan decoys looked at Carter with amazement.

"That was great, Carter!" Kinch exclaimed, as they went inside.

"Yeah, you got rid of that mob for good!" Olsen smiled and clapped him on the back.

"Gee, thanks, guys," Carter replied, "It was nothing, really."

They went into Hogan's office, and saw Newkirk and LeBeau trying to coax the colonel out from under his bunk with what looked like a sandwich. Wilson was there, also, his syringe at the ready.

"I see the colonel's still suffering from that darn Femaleauthoritis," Kinch stated, sighing with exasperation. "Sir, you can come out now, the bad guys are gone."

Suddenly Carter walked up and stood in front of the bunk. "All right, Colonel, come out of there, now!" he barked.

Everyone looked at him; their jaws hanging down. Their surprise turned to shock as they watched Hogan crawl out from underneath the bunk and stand in front of Carter.

Carter reached into his pocket and pulled out a small can, a fork and a can opener. He opened the can and handed it to Hogan, along with the fork. "Here, eat this," he ordered.

Hogan sniffed it tentatively and made a face. "What is it?" He asked.

"It's a cure for what ails you, sir. It will make you strong again." Carter replied.

Hogan shrugged. "Okay, I'll give it a try." He scooped out the contents of the can and stuffed it into his mouth, nearly gagging at the taste. He chewed it as quickly as he could, and then swallowed it in one gulp.

Instantly Hogan's mind cleared, his strength returned, and his emotions were once again under control. He stood up straight and tall, and exclaimed happily, "It worked! I feel great!"

Carter smiled. "I knew that would do the trick, sir."

Everyone crowded around the two men, congratulating Carter for finding a cure, and welcoming back the colonel; thankful to see him back to normal at last.

"All right," Hogan said after a few moments of celebration, "Let's go down to the tunnel; we have work to do."

"Yes, sir!" They all replied happily.

As they were leaving Hogan's quarters, Wilson sidled up to Carter, "What was it that you gave the colonel, anyway?" he asked, curiously.

Carter smiled, and with a wink, replied, "Spinach."

THE END