A New Job

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

Albert tapped his foot in irritation as he filled out yet another form. There were very few things he actually enjoyed about being a general - it was basically a glorified version of an Oberst, but with a few perks and a bunch of responsibilities. Said responsibilities included finding a replacement for Klink while he was away from Stalag 13. As usual, his personal pain in the ass had picked the worst possible time to go on furlough. There were times when he debated sending the man to the Russian Front and being done with it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. Yes, Klink was a babbling fool, but he still managed to ensure Hogan and his fellow rabble rousers remained locked up.

"Sometimes, I truly wonder which colonel is running Stalag 13," he muttered to himself. He glanced at his watch. "Where the hell are you, von Waffenschmidt? You're late for our meeting."

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Count Franz von Waffenschmidt had better things to do that sit around through endless meetings and play pretty boy to a host of men who probably wanted him dead if they knew his secret. So that was why he was late to this little "meeting". There certainly were better things to do, after all. But soon his time ran out and he dragged himself into the headquarters, his German Shepard Beowulf at his side. The big dog growled at a few of the officers, making them nervous, and Waffenschmidt could hardly contain the smirk. He let himself into Burkhalter's office and lit a cigarette before facing a probably irate man.

"Cigarette?" he asked.

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

"Ja...but next time, leave the dog at home," Albert growled. He was too irritated to be bothered with manners as he held out his beefy hand for the cigarette. "It’s about bloody time you showed up! Did you forget how to tell time, or do you make a habit of offending your superiors?"

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz handed it over, along with a match. He didn't bother to comment about the dog - he would just act like he couldn't hear him and do whatever he wanted until they made him stop.

"There was traffic," he said. "You can't blame me for other stupid motorists who can't drive on ice or a tree in the middle of the road, you know. But let's cut the chase - why am I here? Because last time I checked, you disliked me and the feeling was mutual."

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

Albert smiled - actually, it was more of a sneer - and lit his cigarette before saying anything else. Making others wait around at his leisure was one of the aforementioned perks of his position. Fortunately, it was also one he got to abuse however he saw fit. "I have called you here to inform you of your new post. As of tomorrow, your new title will be Oberst von Waffenschmidt, Kommandant of Stalag 13," he answered, taking a puff of the cigarette. "Are you familiar with the camp at all?"

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"Yes," Franz growled. "One of the prisoners broke into my room there. You mean I'm going to be dealing with those animals?! This can't be punishment for turning down your sister... can it?"

There was something he wasn't telling the general - he slept naked and the prisoner had seen his body. There was a unique kind of humiliation about that. It also wasn't one that he cared to repeat. Franz was also quite aware that he was one of the few bachelors left around town and people were starting to talk. He really didn't care, though. Nor did he care to keep the horrified look from his face.

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

"Punishment? Nein. But now that you mention it, Gertrude has been asking about you..." Albert trailed off as he leaned back in his chair. He rested one hand on his stomach. "Yes, although they are not animals...they are prisoners of war. Our enemies, yes, but still human beings. That is a belief we firmly adhere to in the Wehrmacht." He took a few drags off of his cigarette, throughly enjoying the other man's horrified expression. "No, you are being chosen because Oberst Klink is going on furlough, and I need a replacement officer for him. Do you have any questions about your assignment?"

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz did, all too well. He winced and only barely hid his nasty look.

"Tell the gentle lady that I haven't the time to treat her as she deserves," Franz said. "As for Klink and the job, I do understand. All too well, in fact. When do I go over there?"

It was that senior POW officer that was going to make his job hard. Franz wondered if he could lock Hogan in the cooler just to make his life easier. It would violate some rule, but it would make the camp run smoother

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

"I shall tell her, but she is going to be quite disappointed. She has an...attraction...to men with dirty blond hair," Albert remarked. He shuddered, not particularly wanting to think about what his sister did or didn't find attractive. "As I stated earlier, you will be starting your job tomorrow. I expect you to be at the camp by no later than 0300 hours so that you can be present for morning roll call." After he finished off his cigarette, he massaged his temples. "Just thinking about that bloody camp of Klink's gives me a migraine. For that matter, so does trying to find Gertrude a husband. I'm about ready to force Hogan to marry her and be done with it; at least I know he is a man of honor and wouldn't abuse her. That is, of course, unless you know of any other available bachelors."

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz grimaced. He truly didn't want to be with Gertrude - and it had nothing to do with her - but he couldn't insult the general to his face. He stroked Beowulf's head to calm himself. The big dog understood his moods better than anyone, especially with the war on, and waited for him to get himself under control.

"I will be there," Franz finally said. "And I will present myself for morning roll call. As for your sister, I could introduce her to my half brother. His hair is darker than mine, but he's a very kind man. Not officer material, I'm afraid - he's fainted at the sight of a bloody steak!"

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

Albert studied him carefully. There was something else that man wasn't saying, but he couldn't bring himself to inquire what it might be. He was too tired to care. Tired of the war itself, tired of wasting valuable time sitting at a table listening to Hitler rant about bullshit for hours, and definitely tired of hearing Heinrich bitch about the constant reports he received from Hochstetter. But he couldn't say any of that out loud. Good friend or not, pissing off the Reichsführer-SS wasn't a smart move...which was why he hadn't told his dear friend to either suck it it up or deal with the major himself. Playing nice was crucial to survival in the political tornado Berlin had become as of late. Quite frankly, the only reason Albert hadn't sent him to the Russian Front yet was because Hochstetter was a damned fine detective. In the general's opinion, he'd be an even better one if he wasn't so fixated on the idea of Hogan being Papa Bear.

"Very good," he replied. "Regarding your half-brother, the fact that he's kind is a point in his favor. So tell me a bit about him. Does he want kinder? What are his goals in life? What does he do for a living?"

The general poured himself a glass of schnapps to take the edge off of his nerves while he listened to von Waffenschmidt speak. If nothing else, the break would give him an excuse to put off doing the endless pile of paperwork he constantly had on his desk.

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz sat down and lit himself another cigarette. "Amery would be open to the idea of having kinder, yes. I haven't quite discussed the matter with him - he tends to play those cards close to the chest. Our father was merciless with him and fixated on the idea that there would be two officers in the family instead of one colonel and one poet." He glanced to Burkhalter to gauge the man's reactions. "He's a fine gentleman, you must understand, but not the type to well endure the stress of war. I should think it would kill him if he were to be forced into the military."

That was also the understatement of the century. Amery was a gentle, kind soul unfit to be raged at by anyone. Their father had treated him like trash in an attempt to "toughen him up", so to speak, and he had nearly driven the poor boy to suicide. Amery also hadn't married for reasons of his own.

Franz was just about to say something when Burkhalter's secretary, an attractive young woman, poked her head into the office.

"There's a call for Colonel Franz Streyer von Waffenschmidt," she said. "It seems to be urgent."

"Duty calls," Franz softly said. "We shall have to continue this conversation another time. If you need Amery's number..." He jotted down Amery's number and handed it to the man.

[General d. Inf. A. Burkhalter]

"That is good to know. My sister greatly wants a family of her own, as all women do. Her last husband went 'missing in action' at the Russian Front three years ago," Albert said, making air quotes with his fingers. "Therefore, I am certain she would have no issue with Amery being a poet."

He downed his schnapps before continuing on. "Although I cannot fault a man for wanting both of his sons to be in the military, it is not something one should force upon them. This life is not for everyone."

Albert started to say something else until his secretary made her announcement. He took the opportunity to admire the view until she left, then accepted the number with a sigh. "I suppose this concludes our meeting then. I do hope you will be able to keep things nice and quiet at Stalag 13, von Waffenschmidt. Dismissed."

The general exchanged salutes with him like military protocol dictated. Once he was alone again, he looked at his pile of paperwork. "I hope this war ends soon," he muttered to himself. "If not, the red tape alone might be enough to do me in."