Hogan gestured to his men. They fanned out, Newkirk flanking Hogan's left side. Hogan slipped forward, moving silently through the night. The quarter moon gleamed above and dim tendrils of mist snaked around trees. Hogan breathed, a feathery plume in the autumn cold night. LeBeau waved and Hogan nodded. His Frenchman had found the trail of the downed bomber crew. They swept forward.

The mist thickened, so deep vision failed. The men drew together as faint howls echoed through the woods. Hogan lifted his hand and stopped. A dim scent of perfume trickled through the air. Newkirk stood beside him and Kinch stepped to Hogan's right side. Carter stepped over. "What is it?" he whispered.

LeBeau waved frantically. Hogan moved and they surrounded LeBeau. The Frenchman pointed. Down the hill laid five bodies in Allied uniforms, mist coiling around them. Hogan started down and LeBeau grabbed his arm. "Not yet. Look at them, mon Colonel."

Hogan wished his eyes were as sharp as his Frenchman's. There was something different, something odd... "Blimey," Newkirk whispered. "They're birds!"

"What?!" Hogan stared.

The thick mist drifted their way. "We need to get them," Hogan said. "Come on."

"Wait!"

Newkirk shoved Hogan back as the fog seemed to twist and moved on its own. His gaze flicked around. "Ruddy 'ell, we're in a circle!" he said. "Move!"

"What!"
 Newkirk pushed the others out the way. Hogan felt Newkirk's hands shove hard and he stumbled over a stone. Hogan fell to his knees. Kinch yanked him up and then a piercing scream ripped from Newkirk, one that chilled Hogan's bones. "Pierre!" LeBeau shouted.

Hogan grabbed his men noting the thick fog spiraling around them. The stabbing shrieks tore at Hogan, rent his soul. The screams faded slowly and Hogan smelled the deep scent of lilacs. "Pierre!" LeBeau repeated.

A whimper answered him. Hogan held up a hand, holding his men back. "Wait," he snapped. A breeze swept around them and the mist drifted away. Yet the rich smell of lilacs remained. Newkirk laid on the ground. Hogan grabbed for Newkirk, gripped his coat and pulled him to his chest. The Englishman seemed strangely small and moved easily. "Mon Dieu," LeBeau whispered. "C'est impossible!"

Hogan's jaw dropped. "Who--who's that?" Carter stammered.

"C'est Pierre," LeBeau whispered.

"But that's a girl!"

Hogan nodded. The woman in his arms had Newkirk's thick black hair and wore his blacks. Yet, the face was more delicate, even smudged with black greasepaint and Hogan felt gentle curves under his hands. Hogan stood, holding the woman against his chest. "Get the bomber crew," he rasped. His men nodded and Hogan picked his way through the forest. His men soon joined him, each holding the arm of a wide eyed woman dressed in uniform. Two walked unassisted but dazed. Hogan staggered once or twice but managed to carry the unconcious woman to camp.

At Stalag 13, Hogan sent Carter ahead. "Open the hatch," he ordered. "And get Wilson." Carter nodded.

"Let me help," LeBeau said. Hogan nodded.

"I'll hand her down. Do you think you can hold her?"

"Certainment!"

LeBeau slipped down the ladder and Hogan handed Newkirk to him, oddly reluctant to let Newkirk go. He helped the crew down and then followed Kinch down the tunnel ladder. Once there he took Newkirk from LeBeau, amazed again at the smell of lilacs. "Sir?"

Wilson stared at the sight. Five women in Allied uniforms stood in the tunnel and Colonel Hogan cradled another. "What's going on?" he asked. "And where's Newkirk?"

Hogan laid the woman on a bunk. "That's Newkirk," he said. Wilson's jaw dropped. "LeBeau, get warm water and soap."

"Were you hit on the head?" Wilson gestured. "That's a woman!"

"So are they." Hogan looked at the bomber crew.

A shapely redhead clad in a captain's uniform saluted him smartly. "Captain Jack Evers," she said.

Hogan returned the salute. "Colonel Hogan," he said. "I'm sorry, Captain, we didn't expect women."

"Neither did we," a short blond said. She narrowed her eyes at Carter. "Lt. Brian Hoffman."

"I have to ask what happened." Hogan sank down on the cot beside Newkirk. LeBeau returned with a pan of soapy water. "Thanks, LeBeau."

"We had to eject. We were walking through the forest when we spotted a tall woman." Evers flushed. "We approached her and then stumbled into a fog bank. It was we were hit by a truck. We awoke like this." He spread his hands helplessly and Hogan's gaze flicked to her--his impressive chest. He yanked his gaze upwards.

"God. We'll have to figure this out. Carter, find them some clean clothes. LeBeau, get food. Kinch, tell London they're here but not that they're--ah, women. Wilson, check out Newkirk."

"Ah, sure." Wilson leaned over the bunk and he yanked back. "Sir, he's waking!"

Hogan wheeled as Newkirk sat up. "Gov?" Newkirk whispered. His voice sounded lighter, softer. He sat up and looked at Hogan. Hogan inhaled. In the dim light, wide green eyes gleamed and Newkirk's inky tresses fell to his shoulder. Wilson dumbly handed Newkirk the warm water and a wash cloth. "Thanks, Wilson." He washed his face hurriedly, scrubbed every speck of greasepaint. He then looked at Hogan again, blanket sliding to his lap.

A low whistle slipped from Carter. "Enough!" Hogan snapped. Mentally he had to agree with Carter. Newkirk's green eyes glowed brightly and high cheekbones dominated a feminine face.

"What?" Newkirk asked.

LeBeau came with a large basket of food. "Scared bleu!" he gasped. "Newkirk, tu est belle!"

"What?!"

Newkirk looked down at himself. He jolted to his feet and stared. He lifted his hands, touched his face. Long, finespun fingers and slender hands and he began shaking. "Gov?" he whispered.

Hogan's arm shot around Newkirk's waist as his thief bleached. Warm flesh quivered under his hands. "It's OK," Hogan said, noting Newkirk was almost the same height as before, just perhaps an inch or less shorter.

"OK? I'm a bleedin' girl!!" Newkirk tapped his chest then spread his arms. "Look at me!!"
 "I know," Hogan said helplessly, studying Newkirk. His gaze took in Newkirk's curvaceous form, lingered on the long legs and tempting breasts. Then he returned to Newkirk's face, cheeks red. Newkirk glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What are you all looking at?"

"Newkirk, you're a girl!" Carter said. "And really, really pretty."

Hogan belatedly realized his arm still rested around Newkirk's waist. He let Newkirk go hastily. "I'm not a flaming bird!"

"Look in the mirror," Kinch said as he entered the room.

"It appears the bomber crew and you, ah, became women," Hogan stammered. "It's not possible but you are." Newkirk sank to the cot and ran fingers through his now longer hair. "You said we were in a circle," Hogan said.

"Fairy circle." Newkirk looked at Hogan then the others. "We walked into a fairy circle. May I see a mirror?"

Wilson handed Newkirk a mirror. Newkirk sighed.

"Fairies?" Carter repeated.

"The fey. They must 'ave done this."

"Fey?" Kinch asked.

"Elves, pixies," Newkirk replied absently. His gaze flicked to the bomber crew. "Did you see any?"

"See any elves?" the Captain blurted. "Are you mad?"

"No!"

"Mon Colonel, we have roll call in a half hour." LeBeau licked his lips. "How will we explain Newkirk's absence?"

"I'm right 'ere, mate!"

Newkirk stood. "You're not yourself," LeBeau reminded.

"I'm a bloke!"

Choked sounds echoed in the tunnel. Hogan stared down at Newkirk. "You think you can fool the Germans?" he asked.

"Just watch me, sir."

Newkirk disappeared into an alcove. When he returned, Hogan nodded. "Not bad." Newkirk wore his uniform and had obviously bound back his chest. His hair tucked under his cap and he lightly smudged his face with his dirt, obscuring the delicate features.

"I'll cut my hair later."

"It's crazy," LeBeau blurted. "And what are we to call her?"

"Me name's Newkirk," Newkirk snapped.

"But Pierre is so masculine! You are tres belle and deserve a name to match!"
 "Enough, LeBeau," Hogan said, noting Newkirk's eyes glittering.

"How about Betty?" Carter suggested.

"Get up to roll call," Hogan ordered. "Captain, get some food and rest. Men, let's go."

Carter gestured to Newkirk. "After you," he said.

"What?"

"My mom always said ladies first," Carter said. He held out his hand. Newkirk stared at him and then at the others.

"Andrew, I'm Newkirk!!"

"Newkirk, just go," Hogan said.

Newkirk climbed the stairs and Hogan unconsciously appreciated the long legs. Then he shook himself and followed. Kinch smacked the bunk and the men of Barracks Two began getting to their feet. Hogan glanced at Newkirk. In the bright light, Newkirk looked impossibly pale and female to his eyes. Newkirk crossed his arms and Hogan looked away. "Hey, Newkirk, are you all right?" Parker asked. "You're looking kind of pale."

"I'm fine."

"You have a cold?" Olson studied Newkirk. "You sound funny."

"I'm fine!"

"Roll call!"

Schultz called for the men and they stumbled into formation. Schultz counted. As he neared Newkirk, Hogan saw all his command crew tense save Newkirk. Schultz looked at Newkirk. "Your face is dirty, Englander."

"Sorry, Schultzie!" Newkirk grinned impishly. "Digging escape tunnels. Must have forgot to wash my face."

"Jolly joker. All prisoners present and accounted for, Kommandant!"
 "Naturally. Colonel Hogan, your barracks has the showers first. Report to delousing and then the showers. Dismissed!"

"What?" LeBeau sputtered. "Mon Colonel, what about Newkirk?!"

"What about me?" Newkirk bristled.

"I think the Boche will notice you!" LeBeau curved his hands in the air.

"Mind keep that down, mate? I don't want everyone knowing!"
 "He's right." Kinch studied Newkirk. "You can't pass for a man in the showers."

"Pass?" Newkirk's voice raised. "I am a man."

"Not with those curves," LeBeau muttered.

"What are you doing looking at my curves?" Newkirk glared at his friend.

"Enough," Hogan said. "LeBeau, make strudel. We'll bribe Schultz to let Newkirk shower alone."

"And delousing?" Newkirk looked at Hogan. Hogan nodded.