Not Everything is Solely About You

I Protest!

After swearing Wilson to secrecy, Hogan had told him exactly how Klink had gotten hurt. He hadn’t mentioned the Prussian colonel’s knowledge of the operation, though. That was strictly on a need-to-know basis. Wilson had then kicked him out of the kitchen at that point to tend to Klink in peace. Hogan had paced nervously the entire time, his brain going a mile a minute while he vaguely fielded questions from Schultz. Once Wilson had announced he’d done all he could do, he’d sent his CO to go fetch a clean nightgown. Much to Hogan’s dismay, the medic had then announced the two of them had to give Klink a quick sponge bath. Wilson had stated cleaning him up was necessary to prevent possible infection; Hogan had deemed the task yet another reason for requesting hazard pay.

Hogan knew he was larger than average, so the fact Klink of all people was more well-endowed than him – and had no clue what to do with any of it – stuck in his craw. That in itself was a valid reason to be offended! He’d tried not to look at his counterpart’s genitals, although that was easier said than done when Wilson had put him in charge of cleaning everything below the navel. Hogan could’ve sworn he’d seen the ghost of a smirk on Wilson’s face when he made the announcement too. Sometimes, he truly hated how a medic’s orders could override his own. Hogan had done a lot of things for his country during the war, but having to bathe Klink had been above and beyond the call of duty in his eyes. He had, naturally, been relieved once it was over with.

Both men worked together to dry the unconscious kommandant as quickly as possible. After dressing Klink in the clean nightgown, they each grabbed an armful of lanky German and carried him into his room. They were shadowed by Schultz, who helped them lift Klink into his bed. There were many times when it paid to have the sergeant around and this was one of them. He was like a panda...gentle, yet strong. Hogan shooed him away, reminding Schultz he wouldn’t be able to ‘know nothing’ if he kept asking questions. But that was only part of the reason. The other was that he desperately needed to touch base with Wilson, and he couldn’t do that with a witness present.

“I hope you’re happy now, ‘cause I’m never gonna be able to unsee the Iron Eagle naked,” Hogan grumbled the second they were alone. “With my luck, that mental image will be the only thing I remember when I’m old and senile.”

Wilson shook his head in amusement. “You’re over-exaggerating, sir.”

“Over…did you see what he’s got?!?” Hogan exclaimed. With each sentence, his voice went up an octave. “No wonder he’s still single! If any woman in her right mind saw him naked, she’d be running for the hills!”

“Colonel –”

“Are you kidding me?” Hogan continued on. “How in the sound hell does a man like him end up packing a weapon like that? There’s no way it’s all natural. That’s, that’s gotta be the result of a science experiment gone wrong. Like Frankenstein or something.”

Hogan threw up his hands. “I’ve seen bayonets –”

“Could you quit talking about Klink’s dick size and focus, please?” Wilson interrupted. “I’d like to get back to bed sometime before roll call if it’s alright with you.”

“Sorry,” Hogan said sheepishly. He ran a hand through his hair. “Give it to me straight, Wilson. Is our illustrious kommandant gonna live?”

“Maybe,” Wilson answered. “Nachtnebel worked him over pretty good. The stress of being tortured over several days has lowered his chances of survival by a decent amount, though.”

“What are his odds?”

“As it stands right now? About 30%.” Wilson gave his CO a serious look. “The scabs were ripped open by Klink raising his arms, then grabbing or shoving something. I can tell by the way they look. If he hadn’t done that, they might have healed enough not to be an issue.”