I have at least 5 stories taking up space in my document folder. And I'm stuck. LOL. So, thank you to Belphegor for mentioning story prompts. I came up with mine while listening to music on my IPod. You see, I'm a huge fan of 1940's music, as well as standards like Frank Sinatra etc. I had my Ipod on shuffle and the Mills Brothers popped up. So here we are...my prompts are from my collection of WW2 songs. Enjoy!

"Der Fuehrer's Face"

recorded by Spike Jones and his City Slickers

Hide it in plain sight. Colonel Robert Hogan tried not to stare at the photo of Hitler hanging slightly askew on Klink's office wall, but he found it hard to take his eyes off the madman responsible for his current predicament. Hogan's new job description-courtesy of the Luftwaffe-Senior POW officer of Luft Stalag 13, a small camp filled with enlisted men. Not being one to sit idly by and concede that his personal war against the Nazi's was over, Hogan began to plot his escape the moment he set foot in the compound. However, plans change. He now found himself the leader of a search and rescue operation run from a growing network of tunnels located underneath the camp.

His communications' man, Sergeant Kinchloe, had suggested placing a bug in the Kommandant's office. At first, Hogan thought the idea was nuts, and somewhat suicidal. But after getting to know the Kommandant on a more personal level, Hogan told his men to start working on the plan. So far, the equipment was working nicely (aside from the few instances of mistaken coffee brewing; almost defeating the purpose of the coffee pot receiver). The testing phase was over, and now Hogan had to find a spot to plant the listening device.

Once Hogan had settled into camp routine, he quickly realized that Klink constantly walked on eggshells. The German officer was afraid of his own shadow, and even more spooked by the Gestapo and the S.S. For some reason, no one in the Stalag appeared to pay much attention to the picture of Hitler. It was as if they were too frightened to even look at the photo the wrong way; fearing that somehow, someone in Berlin would sense the wrong vibes and come sweeping down on Klink, taking away his cushy command, as well as his life.

Hogan slouched in Klink's extra chair, trying not to fall asleep as he listened to the Kommandant's ramblings. He glanced at the photo again. "Ahem."

"Yes, Hogan. What is it?"

"Old bubblehead."

"Hooogaaan! Do not show any disrespect to our Fuehrer, or I'll have you thrown into the cooler," Klink warned, reminding himself that Hogan needed to be tamed, lest he mouth off to a visiting general and be shot. Lowering his voice, Klink said, "Besides, you never know who might be listening in."

"You mean this room might be bugged?" Hogan whispered, feigning total bewilderment and shock.

"The Gestapo. The S.S. Other Kommandants. You know, they're jealous of my record." Klink leaned forward. "Actually, I have the office swept for bugs at least once a week."

Damn. Hogan crossed his right leg over his left and leaned forward in the chair. "I'm sure you do. At least you don't have the fox guarding the hen-house. You're too clever for that."

"I don't understand your statement." Klink was fluent in English, but now and then he got lost in the idioms, acronyms, and puns of both the American and British versions of the language.

"You have to implicitly trust who is doing the sweep. I wouldn't ask the local Gestapo man to check for bugs he's planted. Like a fox will attack the hens and have them for dinner," Hogan explained.

"I see." Unfortunately for Klink, he did see. "My camp communications specialist takes care of it. He's trustworthy."

Hogan nodded. "I'm sure he's found plenty of bugs." I doubt you are even worth a second look.

"Come to think of it, since I've been here, he has discovered nothing."

Hogan shook his head. "Well, that's odd. Anyway, I meant to tell you, your picture of Hitler; it's crooked."

Klink looked over at the wall. "I'll fix it later."

"I'll get it." Hogan jumped up and attempted to straighten the photo. "Look at that. It won't sit right." He took it off, eyeballed the wall and then the picture, and placed it back on the hook. "That's better."

"Thank you." Klink appeared despondent.

"Something wrong, sir?"

"I'm wondering about my office. Now that you mention it, it is very odd that nothing has been found."

Hogan shrugged. "Maybe you should find someone else to do the sweep." He snapped his fingers. "We could do it," he said.

Klink laughed. "Prisoners? Impossible. How do I know that you wouldn't plant one yourself?"

Hogan laughed in return. "Good one, sir. We could. But where would we get the equipment?"

"We discovered two radios last week," Klink countered.

"Yes, but they didn't work." Hogan grinned.

"You are trying to trick me, Colonel Hogan. Believe me, I'm not that gullible."

"You're right. I'm just trying to get more privileges for the men in the camp." Hogan wiped his finger on Klink's desk. "Dusty. Tell you what, sir. I'll have two of my men clean your office once a week…say…for…an extra hour of electricity on Saturday night. And while they do that, they'll check the office for bugs. Deal?"

"No. It is totally and completely against the rules to have other prisoners in the office. You know that. All contact is solely between the Kommandant and the Senior POW officer. Besides, they'll steal something, or discover something that's top secret."

"Lock your files in the safe. And I give you my word as an officer and gentleman that these two men will not plant any bugs, or remove anything from your office. Kinch will plant the bug and Newkirk will open the safe. LeBeau will take pictures and the stuff goes right back in. So, technically, I'm not lying. Hogan stood up, and pushed the chair back. "Think about it, sir. You see, if you're comfortable and secure, we are as well."

"Your plan, Hogan, as well-intentioned as it appears, is absurd. No other POW camp would allow prisoners to work inside a Kommandant's office. In fact, you may not know this, but in most camps, the prisoners' barracks and compound are completely fenced off from the camp administration." Klink pointed to the door. "But thank you for your concern. Dismissed."

Hogan picked up his paperwork, and saluted. He left the office, winked at Helga and exited the building. The fact that his plan had not yet succeeded did not bother him. He had thought it up on the fly, so one could not expect his mark to accept the con so easily. He readjusted his bomber jacket, and strode across the compound towards his barracks, exchanging salutes and greetings along the way.

"We need to get hold of a Gestapo bug," were his first words upon entering the hut.

"Come again, sir?" Kinch asked.

"I want some bugs planted in Klink's office. And we're going to find them. You see, Klink's communications man hasn't discovered any. He checks the office once a week for listening devices. I've already made Klink paranoid."

"Not hard to do," Newkirk chuckled.

"If the office is already being checked, our plan is shot." Olsen looked dejected.

"Not entirely," Hogan replied. "We convince Klink the Gestapo is planting bugs and that his man is deliberately not finding them. We are going to go in and clean his office once a week. While there, we check for listening devices."

"Not finding our own of course. But others on occasion?" LeBeau asked.

"Exactly," Hogan replied.

"Great. So when do we start?" Olsen asked.

"Once I convince him to let us clean the place. He hasn't quite bought it yet."

One of the other prisoners, a quiet gunner from Scotland, hopped down from his bunk. "Um, sir?"

"Go ahead, MacCrindle."

"I know the communications man pretty well. He speaks pretty good English, and before the war, he liked playing around with model trains. So we have something in common. He's not a bad guy for a Kraut. I would hate to see him…well…you know."

Hogan rubbed his chin. "I'll take care of it. LeBeau, get out a message through the dogs. See if the Underground can get us some genuine Gestapo bugs. Kinch, I think I have the perfect place to plant ours. It's in the picture of Hitler hanging on the wall. Newkirk, take Kinch over tonight so he can take a look. Once we get those Gestapo bugs, we'll plant them, and then we'll take it from there."

The colonel and his team had a week to think over their harebrained scheme. As Newkirk commented to LeBeau, it had all the makings of a disaster, but at least they would have fun before being shot. Once the bugs arrived, Kinch and Newkirk carefully planted a few of the devices around the office, being careful to not be too obvious. Their own device went into Hitler's photo. It was now up to Hogan to seal the deal.

"Something bugging you this morning, sir?" Hogan asked Klink at their next scheduled meeting.

"No, why?"

"Seems you've been a little jittery lately, that's all. Can we start with the work details? Barracks six hasn't had a chance to…" Hogan sneezed.

"Gesundheit."

"Thank you. Hope I'm not catching a cold. Or it could be the dust. I'm allergic. As I was saying…Achoo." With that sneeze, Hogan knocked his papers off the desk. "I'll get those." As he bent down, he paused. "What is this?"

Klink stood up and looked over. "What is what?"

Hogan reached underneath the desk, pulled something off, and stood up. "This thing that looks like a bug."

"Give me that?" Klink grabbed it from Hogan's hand, and then slowly sat down in his chair. "It's a Gestapo bug. But the office was just swept several days ago. And no one has been in here. Guards are posted outside day and night."

"I think you have a problem, Kommandant." Hogan began to walk around the office. Without asking, he started to check the walls, behind the safe, and underneath the furniture. He stood on a chair and removed another bug from the overhead light.

"My communications man is Gestapo," Klink stated. "I haven't said anything bad," he continued in a slightly panicked tone.

"Not necessarily Gestapo, sir. You said these are the type of bugs they use?"

Klink nodded.

"But you've trusted this man since you've been here?"

Klink nodded again.

"Is it possible that he has no choice in the matter? The Gestapo doesn't exactly play by the rules, you know."

"What are you saying?"

"In my country," Hogan said, "you're innocent until proven guilty. What if he's as much of a victim as you are? He would be too afraid to say something to you if that were the case. What I would do is, don't say anything to him, or the Gestapo. Just relieve him of that particular duty. If he's really Gestapo, he won't complain, because that would be suspicious. If he's not, and the Gestapo has something on him, they may not be able to do anything to him either, because that would tip you off. My guess is they'll move somewhere else. Although, you could never be sure."

"Unless…your arrangement. The one you suggested last week. Hogan, do you think your men might be able to conduct a thorough search for listening devices when they come to clean?"

"I'll make sure of it. For the extra electricity on Saturday night."

"Done. But they must do a complete and professional cleaning job. Or the privileges will be withdrawn."

"Very good, sir. I'll get them started on it right away. It will be Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau. They need the discipline."

"Very well." Klink seemed satisfied. "You were speaking about Barracks six?"

The men in Barracks two were in Hogan's office listening in on the conversation. At the conclusion, they all broke out in applause and began congratulating Kinch for coming up with the idea, as well as his skill with electronics.

"It's Colonel Hogan who deserves it," Kinch said, although he was secretly pleased with his success, and with the reaction of his bunkmates. There was no discrimination under Hogan's command. Just teamwork.

Olsen laughed. "You know what's so great about this? We're sticking it to Hitler. I know it's just a picture, but it's just so gratifying."

The whole barracks laughed along with the American sergeant. For a brief moment, their captivity and the bad tidings of Nazi victories were forgotten, as they focused on this small victory. Sticking Hitler in the eye with an Allied listening device -in Der Fuhrer's face.

From Time Magazine. (online story featuring top 100 songs)

"It takes real talent to be perfectly silly. Comic bandleader Spike Jones (not the Jonze with a z) and his City Slickers turned the big band on its head, playing truly zany parodies of well-known tunes. Jones colored the arrangements with slide whistles, bulb horns and other sound effects. In a Jones tune, there was rarely a need for more cowbell.

His big break came in 1942, when "Der Fuehrer's Face" hit the airwaves, poking fun at the Nazis at the height of World War II. Oliver Wallace wrote the song for a Disney project during a time when the studio was a major cog in the war-propaganda machine. Wallace arranged it as an oompah band opener for a Donald Duck cartoon, which put the unintelligible fowl in a nightmarish place called Nutsiland. Even as the Disney artists were inking and painting cels for the fever dream of a cartoon, Jones and band released their version, giving the Germans the old Bronx cheer with an instrument he called the birdaphone. It was a major radio hit.

The cartoon — filled with caricatures of Axis power figures and effeminate jokes that wouldn't pass in our politically correct times — came out in 1943 and replaced the birdaphone rasps with bleats of tuba. It went on to win an Academy Award for Best Animated Short (the only win for a Donald Duck cartoon). But it was the Jones version that soldiers would sing to boost morale, blowing raspberries right in der Führer's face."