Two Missions for the Price of One
By: Jeff Evans

Whatever happened to Vladimir Minsk, the Russian POW that was only in the pilot episode? This is an attempt to tell the story of Vladimir's exodus from Stalag 13. "Sam", as his bunkmates call him, comes from a long line of tailors in Moscow. So what happens to make Vladimir leave camp? I guess you'll have to read to find out!

This story takes place before, during and after the episode The Witness, which features Marya and a Russian rocket scientist named Zagoskin. The events that take place during the episode time frame will be those that occur "behind the scenes" and are not part of the televised episode. At various points, to help with continuity, portions of the episode will be summarized.

This story is also a response to the 200th mission challenge issued by Lauren (von Oboe) on the Hogan's Heroes SmartGroups list.

One final note, I have included much information in the author's notes at the end of the story, including a Russian dictionary to explain the words and phrases used. In places where the Russian characters are speaking together, the dialog should be assumed to be completely in Russian. It is presented here mostly in English as an aid to the reader.

Many, many thanks to those that beta read this story: Patti, Marg, Linda and Kathy M. They did a great job of telling me how bad my grammar, punctuation and use of tenses was. Also many thanks to my wife, who put up with all my questions about the Russian language, culture, characterizations and questions about her family during the Great Patriotic War.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Stalag 13, Barracks 2,
September 2, 1943, 0030 hours

Kinch climbed out of the tunnel over the bunk into the barracks. He touched the switch to close the tunnel entrance quietly, trying not to wake his bunkmates. He winced as it made a loud creak as the bunk was sliding into place.

"Kinch, is that you? Anything happening?" a yawning Newkirk asked quietly.

"No. Everything is quiet right now. Baker is minding the store tonight," Kinch said. "I didn't wake you coming up, did I?"

"No mate, not at all. I'm so used to working this late that I am having some trouble getting to sleep," Newkirk replied.

Almost simultaneously, LeBeau and Carter both said "Me too."

Kinch padded over to his bunk and climbed in. "It seems we're all in the same boat. I think my sleep pattern will be changed for a long time after this war is finally over. We tend to do all our work at night," he said. He paused and then continued, "At least I have to do my work at night. You all are lucky that you can take some daylight missions dressed as German soldiers."

Kinch thought about the irony of being in such a diverse group, Americans, English, French and even a Russian, yet still being excluded from some of the activities that the group must perform. He quickly pushed that thought aside. No, not in this group, he thought. They treat me as an equal. It's the Germans that have a problem with the color of my skin, not my friends here.

Kinch's thoughts were interrupted as Vladimir Minsk, the lone Russian POW in camp, asked in his heavy Russian accent, "Is Klink still out?"

"Yes Sam, he is," Kinch replied, stifling a yawn. Colonel Hogan had hung the nickname of Sam on Vladimir when he had first come to the camp, and the rest of the gang had picked it up. "He called Gruber earlier and said Schultz would be driving him back in the morning."

LeBeau stretched and then rolled on his side. "I wonder if this means that he'll come back with his monocle smashed by that barmaid again?" he asked, getting a chuckle from the rest of the men.

"Good old Casanova Klink! I'd lay odds on that happening," Newkirk said.

"And I know better than to take them!" Kinch countered. "Anyway, it should be a quiet night. Maybe we can get some rest for a change. We've been going at it pretty hard lately."

"I wonder just how many missions we've completed since we started," said Carter, not expecting an answer.

"Well Carter, since you asked," Kinch began, "I think I can tell you. I have been keeping track of things since we first started." Even in the dark, Kinch could almost see the raised eyebrows of his compatriots. "No, I'm not keeping any details. That would be a foolish thing to do." A collective sigh escaped from the men as Kinch continued, "But by my count, we have completed one hundred and ninety-eight missions."

"One hundred and ninety-eight?" Vladimir gasped. "Bozhe moi!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, mate," Newkirk said. "Blimey, ain't we been busy little bees! I didn't think there were that many things to blow up around here."

"It's not just the sabotage," said Kinch. "I've been counting everything, the intelligence gathering, escapes and all those Germans that we've wrapped up and delivered to London."

"But Kinch," countered LeBeau, "we've helped a lot more than two hundred fliers get back to London."

Kinch chuckled. "I didn't count individuals. When we sent a group out together, that was one mission, no matter how many fliers we sent out. Remember the twenty men we sent out from Stalag 9?"

LeBeau bristled. "How can I forget? I still wish the Colonel had let me punch Braden and Mills in the nose! They almost blew our whole operation."

"Shhh! Calm down LeBeau!" said Carter. "You don't want to wake up the whole camp, do you?"

Kinch broke in before things got too loud, "Anyway, I only counted that as one mission."

"Does the Colonel know how many we've done?" Vladimir asked.

Kinch thought for a second, "No, I don't think so. I don't think he really counts the individual missions. I think there's only one number he cares about – and that's zero, as in zero failed missions."

"I think we should do something special for mission two hundred," Newkirk said, getting excited at the thought.

"Newkirk, remember the trouble that we got in when we wanted to give him a birthday present?" Carter asked. "Do you really want to go through something like that again?"

"Aw come on Carter, that won't happen again," Newkirk shot back. "Besides, we have some time to think about it, so we won't make the same mistake again."

"Well I don't know about all of you," yawned LeBeau, "but I am going to try to get some sleep. Good night."

The sound of several "Good nights" and a lone "Spokoyna noche" echoed through the barracks as the other men replied and settled in their bunks to sleep.

Vladimir leaned over the edge of his top bunk to whisper to Kinch in the bunk below. "Ivan, I heard what you were saying before." Vladimir liked to call Kinch by his Russian sounding first name since they'd become better friends. "Do you resent having to be extra careful during any daylight missions outside of camp?" he asked his friend.

The question startled Kinch. It was something he hadn't thought about before. "Sam, I don't know," he said, after a short pause. Kinch continued, "That's a complicated question. Yes, I feel some resentment at not being able to do those things, but it's not resentment towards Colonel Hogan for not including me."

"I don't follow you. If you feel resentment, then who is it towards?" asked Vladimir.

"The very people and ideas we are fighting with all our activities," Kinch responded. "I know, and the Colonel knows, that neither Baker nor I could ever pass for a German soldier in broad daylight. So we get the short straw when it comes to those types of activities. Besides, there are plenty of ways to help out those missions back here – minding the switchboard, impersonating Germans on the phone, making sure that the guards don't discover anyone missing. So it's not as if we aren't contributing to the cause."

"I see what you are saying," Vladimir said. "But as it is, the rest of you take more of the dangerous chances than I do, while I am sitting here working on clothes for the escaping fliers. I sometimes have the thought that all of you might resent the fact that I am not, how you would say…" Vladimir paused, trying to find the right English words. "…tugging my portion of the cargo. After all, I am not usually involved in the activities outside of the camp either."

The strange phrase puzzled Kinch for a second. "Oh, you mean pulling your share of the load. No Sam, don't think that way. I know for a fact that the rest of the guys think of you as one of the gang. We all have our roles that we can play, and we are all in this together. And I don't think that Colonel Hogan excludes you from the outside activities for any reason other than your safety. We've all heard how bad the German soldiers have treated the Russians."

Kinch's words sent a shiver through Vladimir's body. He knew very well how the Germans treat Russians. He had experienced the cruelty first hand after being captured. That mistreatment was not only reserved for the Russian army. He'd also seen the burnt out villages in the occupied areas as he was transported back to Germany after being captured. It was a small miracle that he happened to be sent here to Stalag 13 instead of to a Gestapo run camp.

"I guess you're right Ivan," sighed Vladimir. "It still bothers me sometimes. I keep getting the feeling that I am not doing all I can in the defense of my rodina."

"Sam, you know that all of us together are doing more to hurt the Krauts here than if we were all back with our units," Kinch said.

"Da, that's true," replied Vladimir. He sensed that this was turning into a long conversation. Not wanting to keep his friend awake, he changed the subject. "Have we really completed almost two hundred missions?"

"That's the nearest I can figure," Kinch whispered back.

"It's pretty impressive that we could pull off all that sitting here right under the Germans noses," Vladimir said.

Kinch smiled, it was pretty impressive and he had had his doubts in the beginning if they could pull it off. "It is, isn't it? But we'll not get any credit for anything we've done." Kinch switched to his best Klink impersonation, "After all, we're just prisoners in the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. Not one prisoner has ever escaped."

"Da, da, not one escape. Hundreds yes, but not just one!" Vladimir replied.

Kinch laughed. Vladimir's sense of humor had definitely improved since he'd been in this camp. Vladimir continued, "But as Schultzie would say, 'I know nothing!!' Spokoyne noche Ivan. Sorry for keeping you awake."

"Nichevo – don't worry about it. Spokoyne noche, my friend", Kinch replied.

Kinch lay back on his bunk and stretched his hands behind his head. Poor Sam, I do know how he feels sometimes. I know that everyone considers him one of the gang, but sometimes I can see their uneasiness around him. He comes from a completely different background than any of us, didn't know much English when he got here, and even had a hard time joking around with everyone. I'm sure that even now he feels a little excluded because of all that.

Kinch sighed. Exclusion, I can definitely relate to that. I remember growing up in Detroit and being treated differently because of my skin color. Of course it wasn't as bad for me as it was for my father, growing up in the south. But as it was, it hurt being treated as inferior just because I was Colored. But here in this camp, nobody treats me any different, especially Colonel Hogan. We all depend on each other, no matter whether they are British, French, American, Irish, Scottish, Colored, Jewish and even the Germans in the underground. Those things make no difference here in this camp.

But Sam is the only Russian in the camp, which makes it hard for him to find someone to relate to, like Baker and I can. I remember what it felt like before Baker arrived in camp. But Sam's is starting to come around. He and I have our little chess games, which has helped some. I've been able to help him with his English, and he's teaching me Russian. He was able to teach Peter something about tailoring, and Peter was pretty good to begin with. And I still remember the day when Sam taught Louis how to make borscht and Louis had called it 'beet soup'. Kinch laughed softly to himself. Sam really showed his emerging sense of humor then when he asked Louis if he could refer to a quiche as scrambled eggs!

Kinch rolled onto his side to get comfortable. He drifted off to sleep dreaming of eating steaming hot borscht and a nice fluffy quiche Lorraine.

Vladimir settled back in his bunk. Perhaps Ivan is right. I shouldn't get all worked up about these feelings. He's also right about not getting any credit for the work we are doing here. Credit? Ha! I'll be looked at with suspicion when I get back to Moscow. Colonel Hogan, Louis, Peter, Andrew, Ivan, and Richard – they'll all go home to their families after the war and try to put their life together. Me? I might just be sent to a gulag for being a prisoner of war and not trying to escape. Vladimir let out a tired sigh. And what of my family? Natasha - dearest Natashenka. Will they take it out on you and little Sashenka just because I am choosing to fight the war here instead of on the front lines? Yes, I am a prisoner of war, but I am here voluntarily. Unlike most of my Comrades in German captivity I do have a choice. If I really wanted to escape back to Russia, I'm sure Colonel Hogan could arrange it. But am I a coward for wanting to stay here and fight the Germans in this way?

Vladimir rolled over again. Sleep was eluding him. Almost two hundred missions! True, I haven't been a major part of many of them, mostly fashioning German clothing or uniforms out of old blankets. I can understand Kinch having to be careful during the daylight. But I wonder if the Colonel really knows just how dangerous it is for me, as Kinch suggested. Maybe that's why I am left in camp so often. No, he probably doesn't really know how quickly I'd be executed if I was caught. The Germans treat us Russians like we were dogs. No, not true. They treat us as if we were dog excrement. They probably wouldn't execute me right away. Eti svini, they wouldn't make it that easy for me. An involuntary shudder went through his body. But I am here in this camp, and I am doing more to fight the Germans than I could if I were anywhere else. And everyone here treats me no different than anyone else. Colonel Hogan really does care about all of us. I think he would rather something happen to him than to any of his men. He is quite the opposite of what I am used to seeing in a commander. We Russians could learn a lot from a man like that – leading through respect rather than by terror.

As Vladimir was finally drifting off to sleep, he thought of when he first arrived here at Stalag 13 …

Stalag 13, Kommandant's Office
April 1942

Vladimir stood at attention in front of the Kommandant's desk. Behind the desk stood a tall German officer with no hair, adjusting his monocle to look at the papers he was holding. Beside Vladimir, an American Colonel stood impatiently.

"Come on Kommandant, hurry up," the American Colonel said. "We've got escapes to plan."

The bald German looked up sharply. Vladimir looked at the German, waiting for him to come around to the front of the desk to discipline the American. He was surprised when it didn't happen. "Colonel Hogan, your attempt at humor is wasted on me. You know I don't have a sense of humor about those things," the German said.

Colonel Hogan laughed. "Oh I don't know, Kommandant. We think you're pretty funny. We laugh at you all the time!"

"That's enough! I will do the questioning in my own way, if you don't mind," said the Kommandant. He turned to Vladimir, speaking in English. "I am Colonel Wilhelm Klink, and you are now in the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. We have not had a single successful escape, so I urge you not to get any ideas."

Vladimir had a hard time following everything that was said, since he did not understand English too well. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at the American Colonel and noticed that he was rolling his eyes as the Kommandant was speaking. He snapped back to attention as he realized that the Kommandant had asked him a question.

"I asked you, what is your name?" the Kommandant asked again testily.

Vladimir glanced at Colonel Hogan, who nodded to him. "My name is Vladimir Ivanovich Minsky, of the Red Army," he said in heavily accented broken English, bracing for what he was sure would come next. What did come next was not at all what he expected.

Upon hearing the new prisoner speak, Colonel Klink's eyes popped open, dropping his monocle on his desk. "A Russian?" he said is a shocked voice. Vladimir felt the American Colonel studying him closely as the Kommandant turned to him. "Colonel Hogan, would you mind telling me how a Russian army soldier happens to be standing here as a prisoner in a Luft Stalag with an American jacket on?"

"Kommandant, you know as much as I do," Colonel Hogan replied.

Vladimir cleared his throat. The other two men looked at him. "I speak English not good, but I explain," he said.

"Yes, please do," replied the Kommandant.

"I was in truck with many other Russian prisoners. We taken to, how you say, work prison," Vladimir said. He paused for confirmation of the correct term.

Kommandant Klink nodded. "Yes, yes, a labor camp. Go on," he said impatiently.

Vladimir continued. "Suddenly, air raid started. Bombs exploded around. Everyone in truck begins to get afraid, and the guards become nervous. I make up mind to jump from truck to chance escape. Right after I jump and hit ground, bomb hit truck and exploded it. I look back and see it on fire, destroyed. Nobody alive from there," he said. Vladimir paused, trying to collect himself to continue.

"That doesn't explain the American jacket, or why you are here," the Kommandant said.

Vladimir was nervous. He had a sense of dread, thinking of what would happen when he finished the story. Not only the German would be angry, but the American would too. "True. Please, I continue. I look around, not knowing what to do next, or where to go. Suddenly, parachutes come from sky with American pilots from the air raid. One land close to me, and I see that he not alive. Since the German guards take our coats before we get in truck, I start getting cold. So I take the dead American's coat." Vladimir turned to Colonel Hogan. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I hope you not mad because I took American coat," he said.

Colonel Hogan looked surprised. "No apology necessary. The Germans were wrong for taking your coat from you. It's cold and you could have frozen to death," he said to Vladimir. "These Germans are not very nice people."

Kommandant Klink stomped his foot on the floor. "Colonel Hogan, that's quite enough out of you," he said, raising his voice. Turning to Vladimir, he continued. "So that explains the jacket, how did you get here?" he asked.

Vladimir shifted uneasily. "After wearing coat, I start walking. More parachutes coming down with more men. German patrol came by and put us all in truck to bring here. Nobody ask me questions until now, and I keep my mouth shut. Nobody know I not American," he said.

Colonel Klink sat down. "A Russian here in camp? We can't have that. There are no other Russians here at Stalag 13. I need to call Berlin and see what to do," he said.

Vladimir feared the worst, but before he could say anything, Colonel Hogan spoke up. "Why can't he stay here? Are you afraid you can't handle him? After all, it's not his fault that you Germans made a mistake to bring him here."

Kommandant Klink looked at Colonel Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, may I remind you that you are a prisoner and I am running this camp."

Colonel Hogan slapped Vladimir on his back, shocking the Russian. "You know, I keep forgetting that," he said, looking at Vladimir. He was very shocked by this American Colonel's attitude.

Kommandant Klink stood again. "Hooooogaaaaan," he said in a low voice. "You know I can't keep him here. I have to put his name on the records, and once I do, the Gestapo will be here poking around." Vladimir became very scared at the mention of the Gestapo.

"Why would they come here? To investigate an American flyer named Sam Minsk?" Colonel Hogan said to the Kommandant.

Kommandant Klink was shocked. "You think I should falsify my records and lie?" he asked incredulously.

Hogan seemed at ease. Vladimir noticed that he seemed to be taking charge of things. "Kommandant, you know that the Gestapo will never believe this story about how he got here. They will figure that you need some more exposure to Russians and next thing you know, you're on the express to Moscow." Vladimir noticed that the Kommandant seemed to wither at this statement.

"Do you think they would really do that?" he asked timidly.

"Come on, Kommandant," Colonel Hogan replied. "You know that they are jealous of your record. They want you out of the way. You're making them look bad."

Kommandant Klink paused, looking thoughtful. "Sam Minsk, American," he said. Then he looked at Colonel Hogan. "Hogan, this is Sam Minsk, of the United States Army Air Corps. He's a new prisoner here. He will be put into your barracks. It is your responsibility to see that he causes no trouble. Diiiiis-missed!"

Colonel Hogan saluted the Kommandant. Vladimir noticed that it was a sloppy salute, one that would get him severely reprimanded in the Red army. Colonel Hogan turned to Vladimir. "Come with me, Sam. I'll show you to your new home," he said.

Vladimir followed Colonel Hogan out of the office. He was confused by what just happened. The Kommandant of this camp did not beat him, mistreat him or yell at him. In fact, he actually treated him very politely. And it looked like the American Colonel got exactly what he wanted. What kind of camp is this? Germans who are not brutal, Americans who can get whatever they want from the Kommandant, but no escapes. Ever? How could this be?

The two men entered the barracks. Vladimir looked around at the sparse quarters. He noticed men wearing uniforms for various countries. That surprised him even more. He had thought the different nationalities would be segregated. Then he noticed a large German sitting at the table eating something.

"Come on, Schultz," Colonel Hogan said to the large man. "It's time for you to go. You don't want Kommandant Klink to see you in here."

"Colonel Hogan, I don't think you care what Kommandant Klink thinks," the portly German replied.

Colonel Hogan started to help the guard out of his seat. "You're right, Schultz. Do you want to know the real reason we want you to go?" he asked.

"Colonel Hogan – no. Don't tell me! I want to know nooothing!" the guard said as he headed towards the door.

Colonel Hogan turned to Vladimir. "That's Schultz. Don't worry about him, he's harmless," the Colonel said. Vladimir nodded and suddenly felt the attention of every person in the barracks focus on him. He again felt nervous. How would the rest of the men react to him? He was still wearing the American jacket, so he was sure that nobody could tell he was Russian.

Colonel Hogan addressed his men. "Men, this is Vladimir Minsky, of the Russian army. He doesn't understand English that well, so please be patient with him." He waited a second to allow the murmurs from his men subside. "He was captured after the truck he was riding in with other Russian prisoners was caught in an air raid. The truck was destroyed, killing all of the Germans in it." At this, the men in the barracks let out a loud cheer.

"All right, quiet down," said Colonel Hogan. "Unfortunately, the Russian prisoners were also killed except for Vladimir here." The men were suddenly very quiet. Colonel Hogan continued. "After that, it seems that one or more of our planes were hit because parachutes started dropping around him. One of the pilots was already dead, and Vladimir here borrowed his jacket, since the Germans so kindly confiscated his before shipping him off to a labor camp."

Vladimir tensed, unsure as to how the men would handle this bit of news. He was a bit surprised as he heard a reply in an accent that he could barely understand. "Bloody Krauts, stealin' a man's coat in this weather!" At this comment, Vladimir relaxed. It seemed as if the men accepted the Colonel's explanation.

Colonel Hogan raised his hands in the air. "All right, Newkirk, quiet down," he said. The men were quiet. "So here he is in camp. But, Kommandant Klink has him listed on the roles as Sam Minsk, an American flyer," the Colonel said. Vladimir looked around at the quizzical looks on the men's faces. "Fearless Klink was afraid that the Gestapo would pay him a visit if he listed Vladimir as Russian under his real name, so Sam here will be bunking with us," the Colonel explained, purposefully stressing the different names so that his men understood. Hogan turned to a tall man with the darkest skin Vladimir had ever seen. "Kinch, make sure he gets all settled and introduced to everyone."

"Sure Colonel," the black man replied. He turned to Vladimir and said, "My name is Ivan James Kinchloe, but everyone calls me Kinch. Would you like to be called Vladimir or Sam?" He seemed to be purposefully speaking slowly so that Vladimir could understand him.

Ivan? Vladimir was a little puzzled. "It matters not to me, either Sam or Vladimir. But excuse please, you said your name is Ivan? You don't look Russian," Vladimir said cautiously.

Kinch laughed. "No, I'm far from being Russian! My parents named me Ivan, but I always went by James growing up," Kinch explained. "It was hard enough being Colored, let alone going through life as Ivan." Seeing the confused look on Vladimir's face, Kinch explained further. "You see, in my country, there are some people who don't like me because of the color of my skin. Those kinds of people make life rough for us. Having an uncommon name would make it even worse."

Vladimir nodded. Kinch took him over to a set of bunks, explaining that the top one would be his. "I'll be in the bottom bunk here," Kinch explained. Kinch then introduced Vladimir to the men in the barracks. The one who made the comment about the Germans stealing his coats was an Englishman named Newkirk. The short Frenchman named LeBeau handed Vladimir a cup of coffee.

After the round of introductions, Kinch led Vladimir back to his bunk. "Why don't you rest a while? You must be worn out after your ordeal," Kinch said to him.

Vladimir didn't understand the phrase. "Excuse please, Kinch, worn out? What does that mean?" he asked.

Kinch apologized. "I'm sorry, Sam. I forgot that you don't understand English that well. I meant that you must be tired," Kinch said. Vladimir nodded his understanding. "Do you play chess? I heard that Russians like to play chess," Kinch asked. Vladimir nodded again. "Good. I'll tell you what. While we play chess, I'll help you with your English if you'll teach me some Russian. Deal?" Kinch said as he thrust his hand out towards Vladimir.

It took Vladimir a moment to understand what Kinch meant, but then he reached out and clasped the black man's hand in a handshake. "Deal," he said to a smiling Kinch.

For the next couple of weeks, Vladimir kept mostly to himself. While not sensing hostility from the other men in the barracks, he did sense some apprehension and cautiousness around him. It was almost as if they were afraid of him, or afraid of him finding out something that they didn't think he should know. He and Kinch had their daily chess games, sometimes even playing several games. While Kinch wasn't a bad player, Vladimir hadn't lost a game yet. Kinch was true to his word, and was teaching Vladimir more about English while they played. Kinch also was very interested in learning Russian, which surprised Vladimir.

But all the while, Vladimir was watching everything going on around him. He found it strange that nobody was talking about trying to escape. It seemed that all the men wanted to stay in this camp, rather than return to their units and fight the war. He couldn't understand it. He kept watching, waiting for his opportunity. He wasn't about to stay in this camp longer than he had to. He wanted to return to his unit and fight the Germans who had invaded his country, not sit around here doing nothing.

One morning, Vladimir decided he would ask Kinch about escaping during their morning chess game. After the pieces were all set up, Vladimir started to move his pawn and said, "Kinch, I am watching things since I got here."

Kinch looked up at him quickly. "What do you mean?" he asked his friend as he made his own first move.

Vladimir thought for a second before moving a second pawn. "It looks that in this camp, the Kommandant is not too strict leader, and the guard, Schultz, allows you get away with anything you want. All he says is 'I see nothing' or 'I know nothing' and goes away. And I have heard no talk about escape since coming here. Is it because people don't want to talk near me, or is everybody afraid of fighting in the war?" Vladimir paused to study the move Kinch made while he was talking, and then continued speaking. "I would like go back to my tovarishy at front line and fight the Germans again. I feel like traitor sitting here while my country is being invaded."

Kinch kept his attention on the board while deciding how best to answer. Vladimir didn't know the reason for Kinch's silence. "I'm sorry, Kinch. I did not mean to overstep my friendship to say that you here are cowards for not escaping," he said.

Kinch looked up at the worry in Vladimir's face. "No, Sam, no need to apologize," he said. "I was just concentrating on the game before trying to answer." He made his next move, taking one of Vladimir's pawns.

While Vladimir looked over the board to decide his next move, Kinch cleared his throat and began to speak. "Sam, this is a very unique camp. As far as enemies go, you couldn't do much better than Klink and Schultz. Nobody in this camp is tortured or beaten. We are in a prison, but not treated like animals. Oh, Klink may bellow every now and then. But Colonel Hogan can usually calm him down."

Vladimir had made his move and left Kinch to ponder the new position he had placed him in. "This is another thing; Colonel Hogan treats you men like he is one of you. In my army, commander would have more discipline," he said.

Kinch frowned at the board. It seemed that he was in a precarious position on the chessboard, and also off the chessboard with Vladimir's questions. "Colonel Hogan is the best. He does treat us all with respect, and because of that, we respect him as a leader probably more than if he would be more distant or disciplined," Kinch said as he made what he felt was almost a hopeless move.

Vladimir was about to make his next move when he felt LeBeau standing beside him watching the game. "Kinch, your goose is cooked!" said the French Corporal. Hearing this, Vladimir started to get up. "Kinch, your meal ready; we continue game later."

Both Kinch and LeBeau broke out in laughter. Kinch reached out to touch Vladimir's sleeve, and then seeing the look of confusion and hurt on the Russian's face said, "Sam, wait. Sit back down. We are not laughing at you, and LeBeau was not talking about my meal."

"I not understand," Vladimir said. "I know that Louis here is cook, and he's telling you that goose is ready."

"What he meant by that phrase was that I am about to lose this game and have no hope of preventing that," Kinch replied with a big smile. Vladimir sat down, feeling relieved. He noticed that when Kinch gave LeBeau a glance, the Frenchman nodded slightly. Then for some reason, Kinch glanced over at Newkirk, who also nodded. Vladimir suddenly felt uncomfortable again, unsure what was going on around him.

Kinch stood up from the table. "Sam, I think it's time you and I go have a talk with Colonel Hogan. Come on." Vladimir got up slowly, feeling very nervous. What was this talk about? Did he see something or say something he should not have? He didn't think he did. He followed the American to the Colonel's door and inside the room once they had been given permission to enter.

"Colonel, Sam here has been telling me how he wants to escape and go back to his unit to fight and not stay here in this camp just doing nothing," Kinch said to his superior.

Colonel Hogan looked over at Vladimir. Vladimir wondered what would come next. "So, you don't want to sit here doing nothing? How would you like to be doing something to fight the war right here from this camp?" the Colonel asked Vladimir.

Vladimir was shocked. "Fight from camp? Colonel, maybe I misunderstand you. My English is still not so good, even though Kinch is teaching me," he said.

The Colonel chuckled. "No, you heard right. Fight the Germans right here from this camp. You see this is not an ordinary prisoner of war camp. There has never been a successful escape from this camp, at least not that the Germans know about," he said. Vladimir felt his mouth open in astonishment. "Yes," the Colonel continued. "All of us are here voluntarily. We help Allied flyers that get shot down escape the country by getting to them before the Germans do. We then get them to England through the German underground. When we aren't too busy doing that, we dabble in a little sabotage and intelligence. Basically, we do anything to hinder the German war effort and help the Allies."

"You are partisans?" Vladimir asked incredulously.

Colonel Hogan smiled. "No, we prefer to think of ourselves as prisoners of war who would get bored without a few diversions to keep us busy," he told Vladimir.

"But if you doing all this from here, why I don't see anything since I am here?" asked Vladimir.

Kinch spoke up. "Well Sam, you said you were watching things that were going on since you got here," he said. Vladimir nodded. "And you didn't notice anything, right?" Vladimir shook his head. "You see, we have a system in place to keep operating even if we can't do it from our barracks. Normally we use it if we expect that the Germans have planted a spy among us."

Vladimir's eyes grew big. "You thought I was German spy?" he asked incredulously.

Both Kinch and Hogan laughed. "No," said Colonel Hogan. "We just weren't sure how you would react to our activities. I asked Kinch to let me know when he and the other men thought you were ready to be told." Colonel Hogan paused, and smiled at Vladimir. "We would like to know if you would like to join our little band of merry men."

Vladimir didn't understand the last phrase, and looked over to Kinch for help. "I'll explain the reference in that phrase later," Kinch said. "The Colonel just wants to know if you would like to stay here and join us in our activities, or if you still would like to escape."

"You mean I can escape if I want to?" Vladimir asked. "What about no escapes from here? Klink will get angry."

"We can arrange that, if you really want to go," replied the Colonel. "We'll just get Klink to transfer you to another camp." Vladimir felt himself grow pale, but the Colonel continued his statement. "And then when you are on the way, the truck will mysteriously be taken by a band of underground spies. You will be on your way to England, Klink will still have his perfect record, and the Germans will be looking for a local underground group that stole one of their trucks."

Many thoughts floated through Vladimir's head. "England? But Colonel, I want to go back to Russia," he said.

Colonel Hogan sat down at his desk, motioning for the other two men to be seated. "I know, Vladimir. But we don't have any connections to get you there. You would have to go to England first, and then they can try to get you the rest of the way." He paused, seeing that Vladimir was lost in thought. "Or you could stay here and help us from here."

Vladimir looked at the Colonel. He was serious. He really did want Vladimir to stay. "But how can I help?" he asked.

Kinch smiled. It looked like Vladimir was starting to think about the idea. Colonel Hogan responded to the question with one of his own. "Well, what can you do? Can you speak German?" He paused, seeing Vladimir shake his head no. "Okay, what did you do before the war?"

"For generations, my family always make clothing in Moscow. I did that before war started," he said.

Colonel Hogan looked at Kinch, smiling. "Vladimir, do you think you could make civilian clothes out of old blankets?" he asked. Vladimir noticed that even though his men had been calling him Sam, the Colonel still always called him Vladimir.

"Da – I mean yes, that would not be problem," he responded.

"Good!" said the Colonel. "So, do you want to stay here and fight the war? Because you don't know any German, you'll probably have to stay in camp and help out at this end, but that is just as important as the things we have to do outside of camp."

"But how you get out of camp?" Vladimir asked.

The Colonel paused before answering. "You will find out, as long as you are staying here. If you are going to escape, I don't want you to know any more than necessary. You understand the security reasons, don't you?" Vladimir nodded.

Kinch spoke up. "Sam, stay. Please. I need someone around here that can beat me at chess." Kinch smiled at Vladimir.

Vladimir laughed. "Then I say, answer is yes," he said smiling.

Colonel Hogan looked pleased. "Great! Kinch can show you around, and you'll get the answer to how we get in and out of the camp when we need to. I suspect that you'll find out some other surprising things as well!" the Colonel said.

Kinch moved to open the door. Newkirk and LeBeau both fell into the room, looking embarrassed. Newkirk stammered, "Um, we were just passing by and though we would drop in." Newkirk then looked at Kinch and Colonel Hogan. "Well?" he asked.

Kinch laughed. "Quit eavesdropping you two! He's in the group," he told the other two men. Vladimir found himself the object of several congratulations as they left the Colonel's office.

Stalag 13, Barracks 2,
September 2, 1943, 0600 hours

The harsh ringing of the roll call bell roused Vladimir from his sleep. At that moment, Schultz entered the barracks. "Roll call! Everybody raus raus! Come on cockroach, get out of bed."

Vladimir climbed out of his bunk and headed out to formation with the rest of the men. Another day in Stalag 13 had begun.