No Rest for the Weary

Just When I Thought Things Couldn't Get Any Worse...

Albert Burkhalter was, simultaneously, a simple and complex person. He was complex in the sense that his loyalties could be questioned by some. Fortunately, he had the power to send anyone who did so to the Russian Front. Rank had its privileges. No man under the regime wanted to be looked at too closely anyhow, especially not when they had to meet with the Führer himself on a semi-regular basis. It was a good way to end up in front of a firing squad. Whether Burkhalter's loyalties actually were questionable or not...well, that was his business. But he was simple regarding the goals he had for himself: do his job, score with as many beautiful women as he could, and eventually retire. Preferably to a tropical beach far away from the several people who regularly raised his blood pressure to unsafe levels. That went double for the loud mouthed, unhinged Gestapo/SS major who had a creepy obsession with a certain POW.

Burkhalter didn't consider himself an unreasonable man. If anything, he felt he was quite lenient most of the time. Any other general would have replaced the officer known as Wilhelm Klink a long time ago with somebody less buffoonish. But Klink, incompetent as he often acted, had always prevented any escapes from Luft Stalag XIII-C. Burkhalter knew why. There was much more going on there than met the eye, things only those in the know were privy to. What he didn't understand was how Klink managed anything when the man had seemingly lost his backbone after World War I. Burkhalter didn't care to dwell too much on it, however. Klink already managed to give him enough migraines as it was.

Despite being Burkhalter's problem camp, Stalag 13 was also an endless source of entertainment. It was all the general could do to keep from laughing sometimes when shenanigans occurred. The prisoners themselves often bounded about from one thing to another, reminding him of children on a playground. Hogan himself acted like the biggest one of all. Between the way he regularly acted hurt and gave Klink puppy dog eyes, Burkhalter felt the two officers deserved each other. They certainly fought often enough! He personally had little patience for such antics...but didn't mean they weren't amusing when they weren't his personal problem. Unfortunately, today's events did not fall under that category.

First Klink had begged to be transferred to the Russian Front, something Burkhalter had no intentions of doing.(1) True, the Luftwaffe desperately needed pilots in Russia; that was no secret by this point. But with his damaged eye, Klink would be unable to fly a plane again anyhow. A transfer meant he would be made to fight as part of the ground forces, and most likely killed within a few hours. Cowards didn't survive very long. Burkhalter still remembered his own experiences there, even if they had been from the last war. He knew all too well how viciously the Russians fought. The general wasn't about to send one of the few decent people left in Germany to die needlessly, especially not with the meat grinder that the Eastern Front had become. Somebody had to protect that dummkopf from himself!

Burkhalter had felt confident his scathing remark about the Front needing "fighting men" would be the end of it. Klink wasn't a brave man anymore. But when he'd come out wearing what'd appeared to be a mockery of General Patton's uniform, Burkhalter had given in. He was positive Klink's sudden desire to "contribute to the war effort" was Hogan's doing anyhow – the nonsense about hot tubs full of buttered vodka wasn't something Klink would've come up with on his own. Having seen Hogan pay a visit to the Kommandantur about ten minutes prior to the whole debacle only confirmed that in Burkhalter's mind. He'd never believed in coincidences before the war; he certainly wasn't starting now. Besides, he'd known the kommandant for decades. He knew how Klink thought, how he reasoned, what sorts of ideas he got into his head. That knowledge had helped Burkhalter nip potential problems in the bud more than once, ensuring Berlin wouldn't pay the unusual POW camp any mind.

He knew many things about the wily American as well, one of which was Hogan's vested interest in keeping Klink in command and why. Not that Burkhalter had mentioned it, of course. He was waiting until after the war to drop that bombshell. One of the patterns Burkhalter had noticed was how whenever Hogan said or did something to endanger Klink's odds of remaining at the camp, he always found a way to reverse the damage. The same could be said for Schultz. So Burkhalter had played along, making a show of being impressed by Klink's newfound ruthlessness before agreeing to send him to the Eastern Front. As an added precaution – because one didn't leave things to chance when dealing with Hogan – he'd told Klink to take Schultz with him. Even if Hogan and his band of troublemaking imps had been willing to let Klink go, Burkhalter was certain they wouldn't let Schultz leave. The fluffy sergeant was too close to them for that to be a viable option.