Disclaimer: So, I've checked and it appears that I still haven't acquired the rights to 'Hogan's Heroes'... shucky darn! That being the case, all rights belong to their owners.

Carter sat on the Colonel's bottom bunk, chewing the inside of his lip. Kinch was fighting with the coffee pot again, while Newkirk was pacing. Klink had been late to oversee roll call and when he'd finally showed up, he had Schultz escort Hogan to his quarters.

"I don't like it," Newkirk said, breaking the silence. He was desperately wanting a cigarette, but due to settling the rest of the bets, didn't have any. He stopped pacing long enough to shoot Carter a look.
"Are you sure you closed the dresser right?" Carter didn't have a chance to respond before LeBeau leaped to his defense, suggesting that perhaps Newkirk hadn't closed the safe properly. Newkirk snorted, saying, "not ruddy likely."

The door opened and Hogan stepped through, slamming the door closed behind him. "Where is it, Newkirk?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

Kinch and LeBeau looked at Newkirk, who frowned. "Pardon?"

"The Fuehrer's birthday present you took from Burkhalter's room last night." Hogan's mouth was pressed into a thin line; his temper barely in check. Carter paled as realization dawned on him. "He's livid and wants me to hand over the thief or face half rations for the entire camp," Hogan continued glaring at the Brit.

"I can't help you, Guv." Newkirk held his hands out in preparation of being frisked. "You can check me pockets if you like."

Hogan wasn't amused. He shoved his cap further back on his head and said, "don't be cute. You can't put a German Shepherd puppy in your pants pocket."

"That's his present?!" Newkirk scoffed. "What happened to giving your boss a lousy necktie on his birthday?"

"Yes, that's his present and if you took it," Hogan trailed off as he spotted Carter. The young man hadn't said a word, but he was squirming on the bunk, wiping his hands on his pants and avoiding all eye contact. Simply put, Carter looked the picture of guilt.

Newkirk followed the Guv's gaze and almost choked, "Andrew?"

"Where's the puppy?" Hogan asked, calmly. The anger and annoyance at what he thought was Newkirk's willful and reckless action, instantly dissipated. He should've known it was Carter's tender, animal-loving heart.

Carter looked up, "in my lab, but you can't give him back. He's sweet and gentle... Hitler'll just ruin him. Can't we keep him here?"

His eyes met Hogan's anxiously and the Colonel was almost taken aback at how much hope and pleading Andrew could put into those blue eyes of his. Hogan hesitated as he thought of a similar situation almost thirty years ago. Only instead of hopeful blue eyes, they were his own brown ones and they looked up at his father's waiting an eternity for the answer. His real surprise was when he found himself mimicking his father's argument, almost word for word.

"I'm sorry, Carter, you can't keep him," he said, with a small shake of his head. "He'd have to stay in the tunnel all the time. No room to run about and play, no sunshine. He wouldn't be very happy and you wouldn't be happy doing that to him."

Carter looked at his army boots. He knew Hogan was right… Hogan was always right. But it just wasn't fair. Hitler didn't deserve such a fine dog. He would make the dog as mean and nasty as he was, of that Carter was sure. They just need a way to get the dog out of Germany. Carter snapped his fingers.

"We could send the pup to England. Some nice family could take him."

"I'd bloody love to see that radio call," Newkirk chuckled. He sobered at Carter's glare.

Hogan shook his head, but Carter's mind was still pumping out ideas, "Well then, we could find a home for him in Germany or maybe France. The Underground could train him and..."

"And what about Burkhalter?" he asked, knowing just how to handle Carter. "How easy do you think it will be to get him off our backs?"

Carter looked from Hogan to his feet. Reluctantly, he stood and headed for the door, "I'll go get him." A few moments later he returned with the wriggling pup. He set the dog on the table and gently nuzzled his face against the soft fur on its neck. "Isn't he just the best?" he said, scratching behind the pup's ears. "He's really little, but he already knows how to sit. I mean, he knows the German command."

Hogan surveyed the room uncomfortably. Carter had the amazing ability of becoming everyone's kid brother and the emotions ranged from Newkirk's simmering anger to LeBeau's sympathetic disappointment and Kinch's quiet judgment. "We can't keep it," Hogan asserted, feeling more guilty than ever. "I'm sorry, Carter, but we can't - this is a military operation, not a zoo."

"Yes, sir," Carter said, giving the pup a small squeeze before pulling away and hurrying back to the tunnel. LeBeau and Newkirk followed both darting Hogan with a discrete glare. Kinch started to rub the pooch behind each ear. As Hogan pulled his crush cap from his head and fidgeted with the golden eagle on the front.

"How are you going to get him back to Burkhalter without getting us in trouble?" Kinch asked, putting the pup against his chest.

"We'll just have to make it look as if he somehow got out of the Kommandant's quarters last night," Hogan replied. He took one look at the creature and knew exactly why Carter had taken him. He was a sweet puppy and it was a shame to send him back, but what could they do?

H~H

Newkirk and LeBeau had followed Carter down to the tunnel, hoping to talk to him. However, when they reached the entrance to his lab and spotted the curtain, they hesitated. When Carter took over the lab, he'd put up two blankets, each on its own rod, and each blanket had significance. The first one was a yellowish-gray and it meant that Carter was working, but that he wasn't working on anything too dangerous. The second one was a faded, burgundy red. This meant, obviously, that he was working with dangerous chemicals and that he wasn't to be bothered.

The red one was pulled across the opening and they could hear him puttering around. Not wanting to disturb the fledgling scientist, they headed back to the radio room. LeBeau sat down on the cot on one end of the room, while Newkirk sat at Kinch's desk. He rummaged around the items on the table until he found Kinch's stash of cigarettes.

"Poor Andre," LeBeau said. "We really should've talked to him."

Newkirk snorted, "Go on then. Interrupt him when he's fiddling with dynamite or nitro."

LeBeau muttered something in French regarding where a certain Briton could put his sarcasm. Newkirk ignored this and continued with his train of thought. "No, talk is cheap," he said. "What we need is a plan."

LeBeau frowned and shot his friend a curious look. "What kind of plan?"

"A plan that will let Andrew keep his dog."

"You have lost your mind, mon ami. Not only will the Boche disagree, but the Colonel will pickle us both in sauerkraut brine."

"Who's to say he'll find out?"

"Fine," LeBeau said, though from his tone it was clear that he found this statement incredible. "Let's say you manage to conceive and execute a plan without the Colonel's knowing. How do you trick Burkhalter into letting Andre keep the dog?"

The Brit rubbed his chin thoughtfully before breaking into an enormous grin. "I have just the ticket!" He yanked up the headset, sliding them over his ears and connecting the wires.

LeBeau didn't quite like the sound of that and hurried over to his friend's side. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Shh." Newkirk replied, waiting for the ringing to stop. He heard Helga's sweet voice and contorted his own in an attempt to disguise it. "Hello, zis is Herr Wetzel und I'm calling from Berlin. Is General Burkhalter there?"

"Ein moment, Herr Wetzel."

"What are you doing!?" LeBeau whispered again, only this time more insistent. He had a bad feeling about whatever the plan was.

Newkirk cupped the mouth piece with his hand and turned to look his friend in the eye. "If we can convince Burkhalter not to give the dog as a present then he won't want it," he said, simply.

"And what makes you think you can convince him?"

Newkirk shot him an 'oh, please' look and turned his back just as Burkhalter came on the line.

"Good-morning, Herr Wetzel. What can I do for you?"

"I am zee personal secretary for Fraulein Braun," Newkirk said as LeBeau's eyes went wide.

"Ah, yes, and how is Fraulein Braun? Well, I hope."

"She was vell until this morning, when word reached her that you were planning an unusual birthday present for zee Fuhrer."

There was a pause in the line, before a nervous Burkhalter said, "I'm not sure what she could have heard, but I was planning on gifting the Fuhrer a little dog. Nothing unusual, considering his love of the creatures."

Newkirk smirked as he brought down the hammer. "Fraulein Braun is planning to give zee Fuhrer a dog herself. I vould hate to zink of what vould happen to zee man who copied her gift."

"Mhm, I see what you mean. You can reassure Fraulein Braun that there will be no issue."

"I'm glad. Oh, and General, she vas hoping to gift zee pup to him after zee party, so your discretion vould be appreciated," Newkirk winked at LeBeau, who rolled his eyes. "Ja, ja, Heil Hitler."

Newkirk pulled the plugs and sat back in a self-satisfied way. "As your lot would say, voila."

"If we get caught…"

The ladder came down and a moment later Kinch appeared. He glanced from Newkirk's twinkling eyes to LeBeau's worried frown. "What's going on?" he asked. He came over to the radio and checked to see if it was on.

Newkirk shrugged innocently, "We was just talking about Andrew's dilemma is all."

"And helping yourself to my cigarettes." Kinch pulled the pack away from Newkirk, saying, "I suppose I'll have to find a new hiding spot. Colonel wants everyone up-top. Schultz is going to find the puppy any minute now."

H~H

Carter stood in line beside Kinch, purposely staring at the back of Newkirk's blue side cap. He stiffened his back as Hogan tossed a thoughtful look his way. Klink stood in front of them, tapping his foot impatiently. He'd ordered a full search of the barracks and all the buildings surrounding his quarters. If the dog wasn't found then Burkhalter would blow his top… and that might mean Klink's next assignment would be east of here. He stomped over to Hogan, his swagger stick secured under his arm and shook his finger in Hogan's face.

"You had better tell me where this hund is, Hogan," he half whined, half demanded. "If you did this just to embarrass me…"

Hogan held his hand up, "I had nothing to do with it. How could I? Schultz was on guard all night."

Klink humphed and was about to comment on that statement, when a whistle sounded and Langenscheidt came bounding around the corner. The whistle was still between his lips when he skidded to a stop. "We found him, Kommandant!" he said, panting and readjusting his helmet out of his eyes.

Klink glared at Hogan, saying, "And in which barracks was he found?"

"The guards barracks, herr Kommandant," Langenscheidt dutifully replied. Schultz came up beside him cradling the dog in his arms. The pup was wagging his tail cheerily and licking at the sergeant's face, his nose was the most frequent target.

Hogan grinned, "So you and your men were holding out on the General. I didn't know you all were so fond of dogs."

"Silence!" Klink hollered. "Hogan, I know you and your men areresponsible."

At that moment, Burkhalter hoisted his way through the door of the office and down the steps. He signaled for his car, which pulled forward. Klink hissed an 'I will deal with you later', snatched the pup from Schultz and hurried over to his superior.

"General, I have found the dog."

Burkhalter placed his briefcase in the car and turned back to the Commandant. "How refreshing to see you are not a complete imbecile." He climbed into the car and Klink tried to hand the pup over. "What are you doing, Klink?!" Burkhalter bellowed.

Klink froze, he was stooped over and the pup was left dangling his back paws in the air. "The Fuhrer's present…" he started to say.

"I am not gifting a dog to our beloved Fuhrer," he replied, shaking his head as Klink repeated him.

"Then may I ask, herr General, what you plan on doing with him?"

"You will keep him."

"… but I'm allergic."

"Then find someone else to take him," Burkhalter snapped impatiently and reached for the door. Klink pulled the puppy back just in time to avoid getting caught in the door. His complaint caught in his throat as Burkhalter's car covered him with dust.

Hogan wandered over. He wasn't sure what had prompted Burkhalter's change of heart, but if Newkirk's smirk was any indication, then he'd had a hand in it. "So, what will you name him?" he asked lightly, fondling the pup's ear. Klink gave him a disgusted, miserable look, while still holding the pup away from him.

"You could name him after the Fuhrer," Langenscheidt suggested.

"Course," Newkirk called, still standing in line. "Bubblehead is a fine name."

Klink glared at him before shoving the dog into Schultz's arms. He then started scratching his hands. "I cannot keep it. Other arrangements will be made in due course," he stated firmly.

Carter broke line and hurried over. "We could keep him," he suggested hopefully. "I could take care of him and teach him all sorts of things."

"Absolutely not!" Klink said before erupting into a series of loud, explosive sneezes. He gave a hasty dismissal and stomped back to his quarters, sneezing the entire way.

Schultz laughed as the pup began to crawl up his chest and lick his ear. "My youngest would adore him. He always goes to the farms whenever a new litter is born and begs his mama for one. Gretchen always says no," he sighed and cradled the creature closer.

Hogan smiled broadly, clearly seeing the best outcome for all concerned. "how old is your boy?" he asked.

"Seven," Schultz handed the dog over to Carter as Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch also crowded around. He pulled out his wallet and removed a worn photo and handed it to Hogan. Gretchen was seated in the middle. Behind her were two teenage boys, one had a hand placed on his mama's shoulder, while the other held onto her chair. Both had their mama's firm set lips and determined jaw. Two almost identical girls sat at her feet, their hair pulled away from their faces and secured with ribbons. On Gretchen's lap sat a little boy, maybe four, he was the only one in the photo who was smiling. He was the image of Schultz with a round, chubby face and the happiest of smiles.

"He is the one on Gretchen's lap," Schultz said proudly. "He'll be eight in May."

"Eight, hmm," Hogan pondered, handing the picture back to its owner. "You know, I bet he'd be tickled pink to get that pup for his birthday."

Schultz's eyes lit up and he started to nod, then frowned, "but what about my wife?"

"Who's the man of your house, Schultzie?" Newkirk asked, scratching the dog behind his ears "You or Gretchen?"

"Gretchen," he replied seriously, "it was agreed upon before we were married."

Newkirk rolled his eyes and LeBeau ducked his head to hide a smirk. Hogan shook his head, "Klink will be so pleased to have a solution that he's bound to allow a furlough. Now do you really think Gretchen will be unhappy to have you home for a few days, even if it means she has to put up with a dog?"

"I don't know…"

"If push comes to shove, you could always tell her that Klink ordered you to keep him," Hogan suggested. He placed the pup back into Schultz's arms and pointed him toward the Kommandantur. "Go tell the Kommandant the good news."

Carter watched as Schultz waddled across the yard and up the steps. The Heroes headed for the barracks and Kinch laughed, "Five will get you ten, that you'll have to go in and talk Klink into it."

"I dunno," Carter pipped up, "he's pretty eager to get rid of Nitro."

"Nitro?" Hogan asked, though dreading the answer.

Carter nodded, "When he was down in my lab, he kept trying to dig into my nitroglycerin."

"Well, it's a good thing he's going to a nice, safe home."

"Yes, sir… but I sure am gonna miss him."

Baker was just climbing up from the tunnel, clipboard in hand. He handed it to Hogan, who perused it quickly. "Seems like they've finished rebuilding the bridge west of Hammelburg," he said. "They're going to try crossing a convoy of troops headed for France. We're going to need your best bombs, Carter."

"Oh, boy," Carter said, brightening up as he headed for the tunnel. He climbed over the framework of the bunk and onto the ladder. "I know just the stuff. That bridge will be sent straight to the moon. BOOM!"

Hogan leaned closer to Kinch, "that boy worries me sometimes." The rest could only shake their heads, disappearing to accomplish the necessary tasks before the next mission.

The End