Fetherston versus Newkirk

Part I

LeBeau and Kinchloe were waiting rather impatiently for Newkirk's latest release from the Cooler. All of the other prisoners in the area were giving the pair a wide berth. The Frenchman was already well known to have a quick, volatile temperament and, while his American friend usually seemed calm enough on the outside, the escalating situation with English corporal had Kinch close to snapping the head off of anyone that looked at him wrong these days.

When Schultz finally came into sight with Newkirk beside him, most of the pent up tension in the camp decreased dramatically. At least unless the area around the Senior British POW was taken into account. Fetherston didn't even bother to attempt to hide his displeasure at the sight of the brash Cockney who was joking along with Schultz before moving to greet LeBeau and Kinchloe enthusiastically. Looking forward to getting back together with his best friends was how Newkirk managed to get himself through stay after stay in the Cooler - which he tended to now refer to as his 'ome away from 'ome.

Kinch saw the look that Fetherston was shooting at Newkirk and he glared back at the RAF officer with a pure burning hatred easy to see in his eyes. That same look was mirrored in LeBeau's. Fetherston had had it in for Newkirk before, but since he'd found a support network in the short Frenchman and the black American, Fetherston seemed to have made it into his life's work to make sure that Newkirk's confinement at Stalag 13 was as miserable as he could possibly make it. It was now to the point that Newkirk was in the Cooler more than he was out of it and that was beginning to show in the Englishman's increasing pallor.

Drawing back a little from having wrapped his arms around his friends, Newkirk suddenly got a look at the expressions on their faces. The grey-green eyes looked troubled as he spoke softly to them.

"Louis? James? Please, mates -"

The rare use of his first name got Kinch's attention quickly and he broke the glare for Newkirk's sake. Then he met Newkirk's eyes and gave him a smile as he reached out to lay a hand on a bony shoulder. He knew that Newkirk had come as close to begging as the Cockney's pride would allow and what he was being asked to do. Hard as he found it, Kinch started ignoring Fetherston. After a moment, LeBeau laid a hand on Newkirk's other shoulder as he muttered something under his breath in French that didn't seem to be complimenting Fetherston before joining the other two in ignoring the man. LeBeau tried not to look disappointed when he took the time now to study his English friend closer. Too thin. Still and always, too thin.

It hadn't happened overnight, but between LeBeau's careful cooking and the support the Frenchman and American had given him, Newkirk's body finally succeeded in triumphing over the lingering illness that had, for a time, nearly become life-threatening. LeBeau was almost desperate to get some weight built up on his friend as he feared without that buffer, any other illness striking Newkirk might prove to be fatal. Getting good, nourishing meals into him was being constantly hampered by the frequent trips to the Cooler - nearly all of them due to Fetherston's insistence that Newkirk had broken some small rule or another. The rest of them tended to be because something had gone missing and, since Newkirk had once confessed to theft to keep LeBeau out of the Cooler, now everything missing was presumed to be his fault even if he had never even been in the area the item had gone missing from.

The only fortunate thing was that the new head of the Stalag, Kommandant Klink, was viewing Newkirk's frequent trips to the Cooler as less of a punishment to the corporal and more as a way of keeping the disagreeable Fetherston happy and quiet. Well, quieter.

The three friends headed into Barracks Two where LeBeau had food ready and waiting for Newkirk's return. The other five men who currently made up the rest of the occupants of the barracks all greeted Newkirk warmly before they headed out to the exercise yard to give the trio some privacy. The new atmosphere in Barracks Two was another 'bee' in Fetherston's bonnet. Now that Newkirk wasn't dealing with being constantly ill, his true personality had reasserted itself and. as the others found that the Englishman had a sense of humor, Newkirk had become well-liked among his barracks mates. In fact, the only ones in the camp that didn't have at least an amiable relationship with him these days were either those that avoided him to avoid being labeled as being a friend of the man with the record of 'Most Days in the Cooler' or those that didn't want to get on Fetherston's bad side.

As the three found themselves alone in the barracks, Newkirk took a deep, appreciative sniff.

"Smells good in 'ere, Louis. Stuff what you throw out as not fit fer th' dogs is still a cut above that muck they try t' pass off as food in me second 'ome. So, mates - any mail pile up fer me while I been away?"

Newkirk has already started eating when the continuing silence hit him.

"Aw, no. It's been o'er a month now. Not so much as a post card?"

"No. Nothing, mon ami."

LeBeau hated having to say the words. Not just because he knew how deeply they hurt his friend, but because of what he feared the news would cause next. And, as expected, Newkirk sighed and just nudged his plate away from himself.

"Sorry, Louis. Guess me eyes were bigger than me stomach."

"That would not take much, Pierre."

Kinch leaned over and his lanky friend a nudge.

"Peter - come on, buddy. Not eating isn't going to help anyone, least of all you. If nothing else, do it to annoy the hell out of Fetherston. You know he likes it way too much if he thinks you've lost weight.

The grey-green eyes rose to meet the brown ones. Kinch was the only man in camp to call him Peter (and, on even rarer occasions, Pete) just as LeBeau was the only one that could get by with calling him Pierre. Anyone else trying to use those names would likely receive a bop in the nose. He thought about that - then he thought about annoying Fetherston and pulled the plate back again, giving a smirk before taking another bite.

"Alright then - t' annoy Fetherston, I'll force some more down. But I 'ave t' tell you that me 'eart's not innit. Mavis 'as been faithful as ol' Big Ben. She's wrote to me every week since she found out I was in a POW camp. Only time she's ever missing a week was once when she was bad sick. Cor - I 'ope that ain't what's 'appened this time. I couldn't stand it if anything 'appened t' 'er or me niece when I couldn't even be there."

LeBeau got Newkirk some more tea, laying a hand briefly on his troubled comrade's shoulder. That got him another half-smile and the Englishman attempted to put things he couldn't change out of his mind. At least for the moment. He took another bite of food.

"So, me lads - 'ow's th' digs comin' along?"

Satisfied now that Newkirk was going to keep eating now, Kinch relaxed somewhat.

"Doing alright, but it will come along even better now that you're back with us, Peter."

"Well, leastways 'til tomorrow when ol' Fetherston starts t' bully Klink into dumpin' me back into th' Cooler again. Look, I'll finish this lovely bit up an' then show me where we're at now."

The entrance to the 'diggings' was underneath one of the bunks. After Newkirk finished his plate of food, LeBeau moved to keep an eye on the door while Newkirk and Kinch worked together, putting the mattress and its support boards over to the side. Then came the task of pulling up the floor planks and setting them to the side as well. Once they were clear, Kinch looked down before beginning to go into the hole. He hesitated briefly and looked down again before restarting, but he didn't get much farther than that because Newkirk hissed and grabbed onto his arm.

"You didn't ge straight in like you usually do, mate. Why?"

"No reason really - I just - say, you can let go now, Peter. That's starting to hurt."

LeBeau looked away from the door and back to his friends as Newkirk's voice went slightly up in volume.

"No, I will ruddy well keep hold until you come further from that 'ole. Don't you remember th' pact we three made 'tween us?"

"Huh? You mean about watching out for one another? What's that got to do with this?"

Even though he was still puzzled, Kinch moved away from the hole. Newkirk released his arm and sighed softly.

"Righto, that's better. Now, s'far as I'm concerned, watchin' out for th' pair o' you means I'm goin' t' need t' be teachin' you a few things. Lesson one's th' most important one. Don't never ever ignore yer guts when they're tellin' you a thing is wrong. Some times we know things without us knowin' we know 'em."

That last part totally lost Kinch and from the look on LeBeau's face, he hadn't understood it either. Newkirk wasn't really paying attention to them at the moment though, He was biting lightly on his lower lip as he moved back over and took another look down. Lads had made it to at least fifteen feet now. Likely would have been much further if they could just figure out a place to put the dirt that they were removing without it being obvious.

"Rope. We need our rope. I'm lightest right now, so I'll go down an' Kinch? You 'ang onto the rope while I try an' get a better feel. Shovel already down there?"

Moving back closer himself, Kinch looked back down the hole himself with a confused air.

"Yeah. Shovel's down there. Are you seeing something that I'm not seeing, Peter?"

"Nope. Doubt I see a thing that you ain't seein', me ol' pal. But I'm trustin' that gut o' yours. You've been down there recently an' I ain't been. Let's get the rope."

Seeing that it would be easier to argue with the hole than with Newkirk, Kinch just sighed and got the rope. Newkirk carefully fastened one end snuggly around his waist before climbing down.

Ten minutes passed. Kinchloe felt absolutely ridiculous standing there with the slack line in his hands. Looking over to LeBeau, they exchanged shrugs. Maybe too much time in the Cooler was making Newkirk a bit eccentric?

Five more minutes and suddenly, Kinchloe nearly lost both his footing and the rope as the line suddenly snapped taunt and got heavy. Swallowing hard and trembling, he called down.

"Pete! Pete - are you okay?"

There was an odd echo, but no reply for nearly two minutes. Then finally they heard his voice, but they could barely make out what he was saying.

"James - 'aul me back out. Careful though, mate. Let's not break this ruddy rope."

Several tense moments later, Newkirk was clear of the hole. Without waiting to even remove the rope from his waist, he immediately start to lay the planks back over the entrance. Kinchloe dropped his end of the rope and joined in until everything was back in place.

Then Newkirk sat heavily down on the bunk, starting to untie the rope at his waist with trembling hands. Now that the adrenaline was dying down, he was wincing more and more as well. His coloration had a tinge of grey to it as well as he looked to LeBeau.

"Good thing I didn't 'ave a second 'elping at th' table, eh? Shovel fell all the way through, but I 'eard it hit bottom. Don't think it goes too much deeper, but I wager it woulda been enough t' break both me legs. Or worse. Yer guts knew what they was talkin' about, Kinch."

Finally free of the rope, Newkirk took a deep breath to try and steady himself more as he reached up to put his hand on Kinch's shoulder. Kinch laid his own hand on top of Newkirk's to reassure himself that the Englishman really was there. He'd come so close to dropping him.

"When you didn't answer me, I thought -"

"Easy, mate. I didn't mean t' give ye th' collywobbles. Just everything 'appened so fast, I didn't 'ave time t' brace and when th' rope jerked? Fair drove th' air right outta me lungs."

Now that he wasn't needed at the door, LeBeau came back over and got fresh hot drinks for his shaken friends. He felt pretty shaken himself.

"Mes amis - what was that?"

Kinchloe slowly shook his head.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

For his part, Newkirk took a long burning sip of his drink before saying anything.

"We've broke through th' roof o' some place, Louis. Maybe a cave, but I don't think so. When th' shovel hit, it clattered. Not th' sort o' sound you'd expect if it hit dirt."

"If not a cavern, then what, mon ami?"

Newkirk's eyes flickered back to the bunk over their growing tunnel.

"Well, mates? If I were t' be makin' a guess at it, I'd be thinkin' back t' th' last time there was a dust-up like this one. The first world war. Germans had a thing for underground bunkers back then as well. If they build this Stalag over the top of an old military base from back then?"

There was a slow smile forming on the faces of both Kinch and LeBeau.

"Then we may just have come across as old bunker. Probably will need some shoring up, but we might have us a nice little spot without having to do a whole lot of extra digging."

"We'll need t' do some explorin', mates - but we don't have enough -"

All of a sudden, the door sprang open and a flustered Schultz came in. All three POWs were suddenly very glad that the entrance had already been covered over.

"What gives, Schultzie? I haven't even had th' chance t' finish me first pot o' tea."

"Englisher - this is no joking matter. Fetherston is in the Kommandant's office. Again."

"Bloody hell - Schultzie, you know I can't 'ave done anything. I just ruddy well just got out o' th' Cooler not even two hours ago. An' I ain't left this buildin' since you escorted me 'ere yourself."

The German soldier looked warily toward a window, but calmed somewhat as LeBeau slipped him a chocolate bar.

"Your officer is not trying to get you thrown back into the Cooler. He is trying to get the Kommandant to ship you to another camp. He specifically wants to separate you from the Cockroach und the American."

Both LeBeau and Kinchloe stared at Schultz, horrified at what they'd just heard, but he was too intent on unwrapping his candy to notice

Then the rotund Sergeant saw the stricken look on Newkirk's face. He took a bite of the chocolate, then reached over a hand to give the man's shoulder a pat.

"It will not happen for a few days. Your officer has the Kommandant angry right now, so he will not give him anything he wants."

"Until ol' Fetherston gets on 'is nerves enough that th' Kommandant gets rid o' me just t' shut him up."

"Ja. That is true. I will miss you, Englisher. But at least at another camp, you will not spend so much time in the Cooler?"

Without saying another word, Newkirk just got up from the table and went silently over to his bunk, climbing up into it and laying down. Schultz just tsked and motioned for LeBeau and Kinchloe to come a bit further away with him.

"You will watch him? I did not like the look in his eye."

"Oui - we will watch over him, Schultz. Go enjoy your chocolate. And merci. For letting us know."

"Oh - that reminds me. New prisoners will be arriving this afternoon. You have empty bunks in here, so some of them are bound to be assigned here."

"We'll make them feel as welcome here as we do, Schultz."

Taking another bite of the chocolate, Schultz totally missed the sarcasm in Kinchloe's voice as he headed back outside.

"Zehr gut! Well, I will be back later. It is nearly lunch."