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

A behind-the-scenes look at Carter's adventures with the German army in "One Army at a Time". Some lines of dialogue from the episode are included.

Crunch, crunch, crunch went the snow underfoot.

Dieter wondered if this patrol would ever end. Slogging through the snow in search of some mythical underground agents—what a waste of time and boot leather! Whoever thought it was a good idea to have an entire Panzer company guard a single railroad bridge against said agents, anyway?

Still, as Horst pointed out, it had to be preferable to slogging through snow on the Eastern Front.

Dieter really wished Horst would stop making references to the Eastern Front. After all, the chubby Horst would probably not last long there if that were indeed the next assignment for their unit. No doubt no one in Kompanie C would last long on the Eastern Front! None of them had seen combat yet, with the exception of the enthusiastic Sergeant Schlenker, who had been attached briefly to a now-defunct Panzer division prior to joining the cobbled-together 4th Panzer-Brigade.

Which, for some reason, was currently assigned to the small Bavarian town of Hammelburg. And if performing patrol duty near the Milheim bridge outside town kept the soldiers of Kompanie C away from Russia...well, far be it from Dieter to question the wisdom of his superiors.

He wondered gloomily, not for the first time, if he could possibly make it to the Swiss border if he deserted. Großmutter Klara would no doubt read him a lecture if he showed up on her doorstep in St. Moritz, and then he would be sent off to some internment camp, of course. But surely that would be better than facing the Russians! He'd heard some very disturbing stories about what the German army had done in Russia, and Dieter was pretty sure the Russians had every right to be angry.

And he really didn't want them to take it out on him personally, so this current assignment of his Panzer company—incomprehensible though it might be—suited him just fine. He had to wonder, though, as he was crunching through the snow, just how long their stay in Hammelburg would last.

Just then, despite his fixed belief that nothing ever happened in this sleepy little town, the evening brought a surprise to him and the other members of the patrol. A rustling in the underbrush was heard, and when they followed the noise they burst into a small clearing where an unfamiliar man in Wehrmacht uniform was gathering up something from the ground.

Sergeant Schlenker spoke sternly to the stranger: "Soldat!"

The young man crouched on the ground looked up in surprise. "Ja?" His arms were wrapped around a large oblong box, and several bulging canvas sacks were scattered on the ground around him. His eyes darted around in alarm as members of the patrol converged on him.

"Where did you find that?" demanded Schlenker, pointing to the box, which, on closer inspection, had what looked very much like the plunger for a detonator protruding from the top.

"It was right here," offered the soldier, after a moment of hesitation.

"Good work!" said Schlenker. He gestured to the members of the patrol. "Pick up this stuff. We'll go back and make our report on this. Fall in!"

Dieter, Horst and Otto gathered up the canvas sacks, and the young soldier got to his feet, still clutching the detonator. He scrambled ahead of the patrol but Schlenker wasn't having any of that.

"Fall IN!" he ordered.

The young man meekly joined their group, trying to juggle his rifle and the detonator box while holding up his trousers at the same time. Apparently the uniform that he had been issued fitted him none too well: Dieter knew what that was like!

He gave the newcomer a half-smile of encouragement as the young man fell in beside him, and got a sheepish grin in response. Then Schlenker waved grandly, announcing "Follow me!"

And they were off, trudging back the way they had come.

On their return to the temporary company headquarters in Hammelburg, it was evident that the new man was rather a plain fellow, decidedly unheroic in appearance. But his discovery of the sabotage materials obviously impressed Schlenker no end, and the Sergeant insisted that the mere private take his place at the table for the Unteroffizieren in the mess hall.

When they had all gathered at the tables with mugs of beer in hand, Schlenker got to his feet and raised his own mug in a toast: "Gott und Führer!"

The group echoed him with apparent enthusiasm, although Dieter at least was of the opinion that der Führer had nothing at all to do with God, and should never, ever, be mentioned in the same sentence with Him. But he was cautious enough not to voice that opinion and he drank the toast along with the rest. After all, how often did he and his comrades get a chance to drink beer in the evening?

That last thought was somehow a little unsettling, and Dieter shook it off impatiently. As they all resumed their seats, he looked around his own table, the one set aside for the lesser mortals known as the Soldaten. Horst was drinking his Bier with every evidence of enjoyment, but Otto was sighing with envy. "Ach, how lucky that new man is! I would never have found those sabotage things in a million years!"

"Very true," Horst grinned. He often poked fun at Otto, whose patriotic zeal was matched only by his incompetence. This didn't stop Horst from taking advantage of Otto's eagerness to please, though. Horst, who was naturally indolent, took every opportunity he could to avoid work, and Otto was often conned into taking on extra sentry and mess hall duties that rightfully belonged to Horst. This state of affairs irked Dieter but it never seemed to bother Otto, and Otto didn't take offense at Horst's remark at this moment either.

Meanwhile, Schlenker and the new man had taken up their mugs again in a most comradely fashion, and the three privates at the next table unabashedly listened in on their conversation.

"Good beer, eh?" Schlenker smacked his lips.

"Wunderbar!" said the new man. "Or in this case, would it be Wunder-Bier?"

Schlenker just shook his head, but at the adjoining table Otto was impressed. "What a smooth operator!" he said to his companions. "I wish I could make a witty remark like that! No wonder the Sergeant is so taken with him."

"Well, I don't see what's so special about him," Horst said.

Dieter was about to reply when the door opened, and the company captain came in, a middle-aged man by the name of Horatio Krunsch. He was looking tired and grumpy as he approached the Unteroffizier table.

"Achtung!" Schlenker said, and the entire company got to its feet again.

Krunsch nodded absently as he pulled off his gloves. "Heil Hitler...as you were."

The arrival of the officer seemed to cause the new man some alarm, and Dieter watched with interest as the fellow tried to slink out of the room in the confusion of everyone resuming their seats. Sergeant Schlenker remained on his feet though, and grabbed the young soldier's shoulder before he could get away.

"This is the man!" he told Krunsch. "He found the dynamite and the saboteur's equipment."

The officer said crisply, "Very good. How did this happen?"

The new man seemed even more alarmed; his eyes were darting around again. "How did it happen?" he hedged.

"Ja, how did it happen?"

"Well, I was walking through the woods..."

"On your way here?" Krunsch interrupted.

"Ja, I was on my way here, to...to...the 4th Panzer-Brigade."

"So?"

"So I heard a noise, I went to investigate, and I found the stuff."

Krunsch nodded. "Very clever."

"Danke!" replied the new man, adding modestly, "Once in a while you get lucky."

"Your name?"

This not unreasonable request seemed to throw the fellow into a panic. He hemmed and hawed for a bit, and finally Krunsch got exasperated and asked for his papers.

The young man handed over his Soldbuch and peered at it as Krunsch unfolded the inner sheet."Ja, that's my name," he said, relief evident in his tone. "Private Hans Wagner."

"Very good record," Krunsch mused as he reviewed the document. "Invasion of Poland, Battle of France, Eastern Front..."

Private Wagner grinned and nudged the officer. "Boy, was it ever cold!"

Krunsch gave him a warning look over this unwarranted familiarity, and the private stiffly stood at attention once more. The Captain asked for his orders, but it turned out that Private Wagner had lost them, so Krunsch decided to keep him at Kompanie C and make him Acting Corporal to boot.

"He has the experience," he told Schlenker.

The Sergeant smiled and saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Kapitän!"

As the Captain left the room, Schlenker patted Acting Corporal Hans Wagner on the back. "Congratulations...good boy!"

Wagner looked bewildered, but he replied "Danke", and accepted another beer from the Sergeant.

Otto sighed again with envy. "Did you hear that? He lost his orders, and now he's Acting Corporal! How I wish I could be like him!"

"Never happen," said Horst. "Although I've known you to lose a few things too, from time to time. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

In the barracks, Dieter and Horst showed Hans Wagner his bunk and footlocker. As they did so, Otto watched Hans's struggles with his ill-fitting trousers and took pity on him. "The Quartermaster certainly didn't get your measurements correct, did he? Let me fix your trousers for you."

Whatever his shortcomings in other areas may have been, Otto was certainly deft with a needle, and in no time Hans's trousers were tailored to fit his wiry form.

He tried them on and gave Otto a grin. "Danke!"

Now that his wardrobe issues were out of the way, the new Acting Corporal seemed a bit less nervous, and chatted easily with the others as they all readied for bed. And his first question for them was not entirely unexpected.

"I've been wondering," Hans said. "Why did Sergeant Schlenker call your commanding officer Herr Kapitän?"

Horst chuckled and shook his head. "Good question; he should be addressed as Herr Hauptmann, of course. As a matter of fact, Krunsch used to command a ship in the Kriegsmarine before he was transferred to the army. He prefers his previous title, and he's a decent fellow—for an officer—so we humor him."

"Oh." Hans had a thoughtful look on his face as he filed this tidbit away for future reference.

Eager to learn more about his new hero, Otto had lots of questions, but Hans was reluctant to give any details about his time in combat, or indeed any aspects of his military career. His anxiety seemed to return and his eyes were darting around again.

"I just did my job," he mumbled.

Otto thought he was being overly modest, and Hans's reticence didn't affect his admiration in the least. His questions were of necessity cut short, though, because he was due for sentry duty once again.

Once Otto had departed, the rest of the barracks had a chance to relax and get some sleep. But as he climbed into his bunk, Hans had one last question.

"Do you fellows get beer every night?"

"Not until recently," Dieter said, and Hans nodded, pulling the blanket up to his chin and closing his eyes.

Soon the room was quiet, except for the snorting and snuffling of the sleeping men. Dieter was just starting to doze off himself when he was startled awake by a stealthy movement nearby. One of his bunkmates was pulling on his boots, and as he squinted into the darkness, Dieter realized it was the new man.

"Where are you going, Hans?" he asked sleepily.

Hans whispered, "Latrine," and after gathering up his overcoat, quietly left the barracks.

It occurred to Dieter that he had forgotten to show Hans where the latrine was, and he was about to get up to follow him, but then flopped back down on his bunk.

After all, a person with initiative enough to be made Acting Corporal could undoubtedly find the latrine on his own, couldn't he?

But Hans's last question had reminded him of his earlier disquiet. Just why were they getting the beer, anyway?

A/N: I'm not quite sure why the Kompanie C Sergeant addresses his commander as Herr Kapitän, or why Hogan does the same later when he cons the Captain into turning over the guarding of the railroad bridge to the Heroes. It is my understanding that only naval officers were addressed in this manner; an army captain should have been addressed as Herr Hauptmann.