A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes, and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.

August 1945

Private Adam Markiewicz glanced at his silent passenger as they bounced along the back roads of the Bad Kissingen countryside. Traveling in a jeep was not conducive to conversation, but Private Thomas Meyer had seemed disinclined to talk even when they stopped for rest breaks.

Adam didn't know much about his companion; his orders had been to deliver the young private, in one piece, to headquarters near Hammelburg. And why one American private was so important to the head honchos was beyond Adam's understanding.

But before they reached Hammelburg, Adam had another, much higher-ranking passenger to pick up.

"Check the map, will you, Tom," he said over the sound of the engine. "That vet's place should be around here somewhere."

Tom unfolded the map and peered at it. "Few more miles yet."

Another mile passed without conversation, and Adam couldn't restrain his curiosity any longer. "So why're you headed to Hammelburg?"

Tom shrugged, but said with a touch of defensiveness, "They need an interpreter, and I speak German. My family is German."

Adam nodded. His own fluency in Polish had been helpful when trying to communicate with the many displaced persons he had encountered since Germany had surrendered. "I know what you mean. My folks came to the States just after the first war."

Tom's voice was muffled and Adam had to listen closely to catch it. "We escaped Germany in '39."

Adam gave a low whistle and shook his head. "My God! Must have been an awful experience."

Tom nodded. "It was. The Gestapo took us from our home in Kassel...not so very far from here."

Adam gasped, turning his head briefly to look at his passenger. "How did you get away?"

Tom shrugged. "I'm still not sure. I was just a kid, you know, and scared out of my mind. My mom and dad and I were taken to Gestapo headquarters in Hannover, and this terribly mean-looking guy—Hochstetter, I think his name was—well, he took charge of us, all by himself, and drove us to someplace in the woods. Then he untied us and told us to get lost! Some Resistance members were nearby and smuggled us to Denmark. We went to England and then America."

Adam stole another glance at Tom's set face. "Pretty lucky, all around."

His passenger gave a choked laugh and turned his head away. "Yeah. Except for what I had to leave behind."

Adam was going to ask more questions, but he had to slow down to check the small, neatly lettered sign at the entrance to a narrow lane.

Oskar Schnitzer, Tierarzt

"Is this it?"

Tom looked at the sign too. "Yes; 'Tierarzt' means veterinarian, or more literally, animal doctor."

"Okay." Adam swung the wheel over and the jeep turned into the leafy lane.

Colonel Robert Hogan smiled at the middle-aged couple as they stepped out of the cottage into the warm sunshine.

"Thanks for lunch, Maria, and thanks, of course, to both of you for all you have done. You'll never know how many lives you saved, you and your dogs."

"We did what we could," replied Oskar. "But how glad we are that it is all over."

Hogan looked troubled. "But things are not going well in Germany: all the refugees, the hunger, the confusion..."

"Ja. It will be a long, long time before we find our feet," Oskar sighed, and then squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "But we shall work hard to make Germany a great country once more—and this time, a power for good in the world."

Hogan nodded. "It will happen in time, I know."

"Max has been able to reopen his shop, and fortunately Kurt's farm was spared," Oskar continued. "He and Heidi are determined that they will be able to feed their neighbors, at least." He gave a short, unamused laugh, and shook his head. "As it is, agriculture is perhaps the only industry that the Occupation authorities will allow."

"You know I will not forget you," said Hogan. "America needs to help rebuild Germany, and I'll go back with plenty of information on the urgency of the situation. I'll take it to General Marshall himself if I have to." He paused. "In the meantime, I will make sure you and your family are taken care of, and the dogs too."

"Thank you, Colonel," said Maria. "We have had so many requests from your men, and even from the liberating soldiers, to adopt the dogs; I know they will all have good homes eventually."

Hogan nodded. "I've already promised to pull all the strings I can to make that happen. I've had a young man pestering me about Bruno, Carter and LeBeau are hoping to adopt Gerhardt and Fritzi, and I know Olsen is anxious to take Sieglinde home with him."

"And the ones who stay in Germany will have a home with us, until we are able to place them as guide dogs for the blind," said Oskar.

"Not all of them, I suspect," Hogan smiled, as he looked down at the big dog seated at Maria's feet.

Maria chuckled. "True. Kurt and Heidi want to keep Frieda and Hildegard at the farm, and my father-in-law and Bismarck are inseparable. But Wolfgang, of course, will be staying with us."

The noise of an engine caught their attention, and they all turned to watch as an American jeep rumbled up the lane.

"Looks like my ride is here," said Hogan. "Thanks again. I will keep in touch." He crouched down to address Wolfgang, meeting the sad brown eyes directly. "Thanks, fella; I owe you more than I can say, and only you and I know just how much. You deserve a good long furlough."

Wolfgang offered him a paw, and they shook hands gravely.

Oskar and Maria watched, smiling, as Hogan stood at attention and saluted Wolfgang, who dipped his head modestly.

But a moment later Oskar blinked in surprise. Wolfgang was slowly rising to his feet, ears alert, eyes now fixed on the Americans who were dismounting from the jeep.

And then, with a flash of tawny fur, he was off like a bullet.

Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!

The younger of the two Americans stood frozen as the charging dog approached. The elder one went for his sidearm, but Maria cried out, "No, don't shoot him! Wolfgang, stop!"

Oskar said, "Don't worry, Maria, Wolfgang would never..." and then they all watched in amazement as the dog knocked the young man to the ground.

Unhurt, the soldier promptly sat up and said in choked tones, "Erich?"

He flung his arms around Wolfgang and wept as the dog frantically licked his face, whimpering all the while. And to the stunned onlookers, despite the tears and the whimpers, there was one overwhelming emotion evident. One which had been sadly lacking in Germany for many years.

Joy.

Oskar and Maria looked at each other, and then at the understandably bewildered Hogan, who muttered, "What the hell?"

The second young man holstered his pistol and approached the little group standing outside the house. He came to attention and saluted. "Colonel Hogan? Begging your pardon, sir, I think I know what's going on. Tom was just telling me about how he and his family escaped Germany in '39, and he was about to tell me about something he had to leave behind. Do you think it's possible that..."

Oskar could barely speak for the lump in his throat. "Wolfgang was discovered abandoned in a home after a family had been taken away by the Gestapo. In 1939."

Maria's hand crept into his, and her voice trembled as she said, "The ways of God are mysterious indeed, Oskar."

"Maria, I would have to agree." Hogan took a deep breath. "And if you and Oskar approve, I could probably pull a few strings for these two as well."

Oskar nodded, his heart too full to speak. He and Maria loved Wolfgang; how could they not? And Wolfgang loved them. But his place was with his boy, and Oskar would take comfort from that.

"You are right, Colonel. I think Wolfgang has found his home at last."