Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters.

Morning is Broken

Tis nearly dawn,
My clothes are on,
I sit and wait to hear the morning shout.

At once he's here,
The yell is clear,
The call to rise is met with, "Schultz, get out!"

I heave a sigh,
(I don't know why)
And go to join my men in yonder room.

I'm met by stares,
Unhappy glares,
The frowns upon their faces filled with gloom.

I see the guard,
(It isn't hard)
He's waving to the men to get outside.

Amidst the din,
A cheeky grin,
A rifle in his hand he wants to hide.

The guard who's there,
Is unaware,
A sense of monkey business he doth lack.

I shake my head,
Address instead,
The culprit, thusly, "Newkirk, give it back!"

A downward glance,
Remorse, perchance,
He taps the sergeant's shoulder from behind.

The guard turns 'round,
To see he's found,
A jolly joker; mischief on his mind.

He grabs the gun,
And when he's done,
He scolds the man and points him towards the door.

The man complies,
With smiling eyes,
He's smirking as he walks across the floor.

I motion then,
To all the men,
To follow him and take their place in line.

They file past,
A dreary cast,
Of men whose moods are anything but fine.

The last one out,
I look about,
A wistful glance behind me at my bed.

With no remorse,
I change my course.
I think I'll just go back to sleep instead.