This is the third installment of the Plot Bunny trilogy. It is not necessary to read The Great Plot Bunny Caper or The Revenge of the Plot Bunny before reading this, as none of them make any sense anyway.

 

The incidents depicted in this story are the products of a demented mind. Any similarity to a legitimate Hogan’s Heroes Fan Fiction story, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

The standard disclaimer applies: I make no claims to any of the characters of the Hogan’s Heroes universe. I also mean no disrespect to the establishments and products mentioned in this story, nor would they, in their right mind, endorse this story.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Part 1: Everyone Loves a Plot Bunny

 

Shivering, Newkirk threw another piece of wood into the stove. “Blimey, it’s bloody cold in here!” he exclaimed.

 

The rest of the men were too cold to respond. They simply huddled around the stove wrapped in blankets that did little to take the chill off of them.

 

“Newkirk, what exactly does the word blimey mean?” Carter asked. “I hear you use it all the time, but you’ve never explained it.”

 

Newkirk looked at Carter and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Ask the bloody writer fellow that’s making me say it all the time.”

 

Kinch looked over to the corner. “Not him again!” he said disgustedly. “I thought we were finally done with him when all the other writers were able to chase that oddball creature into the swamp that’s over by the well.”

 

“I guess not,” Le Beau said. “It looks like he’s still around. This time he seems to want to freeze us to death. Carter, what is the temperature in here?”

 

Carter looked at the round thermometer hanging on the barracks wall by the door. The thermometer had the logo of Land’s End printed on it. “It says it is thirty degrees in here,” he responded.

 

The men shivered again. Newkirk decided he needed to put another piece of wood on the fire and grabbed on to put in.

 

“This is a pretty bad cold spell,” Carter continued. “After all, it is the month of August.”

 

All the men huddled around the stove looked at Carter. Then they glanced at the calendar that was hanging on the wall next to the thermometer. The calendar was showing the Sears Craftsman Tool of the Month for the month of August.

 

“Um, Carter, what does the thermometer say again?” Kinch asked.

 

Carter looked again. “It says thirty degrees Kinch,” Carter responded.

 

“Thirty degrees what, Carter?” Kinch asked again slowly.

 

Carter squinted, trying to be sure he got it right. “Thirty degrees Celsius,” he said.

 

A collective groan emerged from the men huddled around the stove. Suddenly, they began to sweat, and had to throw off their blankets. Newkirk debated whether to throw the stick of wood he was holding at Carter, but suddenly had a better idea. He turned and tossed it in the direction of the idiot writer, who for some reason knew it was coming and was able to duck out of the way before getting hit.

 

“I wish this guy would go away,” Newkirk said while putting the fire out in the stove.

 

“The bad part about it is that he is on vacation and doesn’t have anything else to do but harass us in these inane Plot Bunny sagas,” Kinch said.

 

“That’s not fair,” Le Beau said. “He gets a vacation, and we have to sit around here all the time.” He got up and walked over to the Krupps coffee maker sitting by the stove. “Anyone want some coffee?” he asked.

 

“No, not anything hot,” Baker responded.

 

The men looked over at him. “You’re in this story too?” Kinch asked. “I thought only one of us could appear at a time.”

 

“I guess this must be a special story, since his majesty is on vacation,” Baker responded.

 

“Now let’s not get carried away,” Newkirk retorted. “I think we should refer to him as the idiot writer rather than his majesty.”

 

“So do I,” Baker said. “But you know how he is. I had no choice but to say that, since his excellence is the one putting all the words in my mouth.”

 

“Baker, if you can’t control yourself, we’re going to have to kick you out of this story,” Kinch said.

 

“I’ll try,” Baker replied. “I guess I’m just so happy to actually be used in a story that I’ll do anything to stay.”

 

“Well try to fight the urge to say those kind of things, Le Beau said. He walked over to the corner of the room. “Anyone want some iced coffee?” he asked.

 

Everyone said yes, and Le Beau carried over six cups with Dunkin’ Donuts written on them.

 

“Le Beau, when did we get an icebox?” Carter asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Le Beau responded. “It was just there at the beginning of this chapter.” He handed the cups out to everyone and found that there was one extra.

 

“Who’s the extra cup for?” Carter asked.

 

“That’s for Colonel Hogan,” Le Beau replied. “I’ll knock on his office door and give it to him.”

 

“Don’t bother,” Kinch said. “He’s not in there.”

 

“Oh,” Le Beau said. “Is he in Klink’s office?”

 

Newkirk shook his head. “No, he’s on vacation too,” he replied.

 

“What?” Carter exclaimed. “He went on vacation and left us here?”

 

Newkirk nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He said he had to go to Cape Cod and look for a very special kind of Plot Bunny that lived only in the sand near the ocean. I think he called it a Beach Bunny.”

 

“I can’t believe he would do this to us!” Le Beau exclaimed. “After all we’ve been through together, he would go on such a dangerous mission alone?”

 

“I think we ought to help him out,” Carter said. “We can’t take the chance of letting him struggle in the grasp of some Beach Bunny alone. What if there is more than one of them? What if they all jump on him at once?”

 

Kinch laughed. “I think that’s what he hoping for,” he said.

 

“Well, I still say we should go and help him,” Carter replied.

 

“I do too,” both Newkirk and Le Beau said together.

 

“Can I go too?” Baker asked.

 

“Of course,” Newkirk responded. “It wouldn’t be fair to leave you here.” Baker smiled broadly.

 

“Kinch, call London and tell them that we’re going to go help Colonel Hogan,” Le Beau said.

 

Kinch got up and walked over to the wall next to the icebox. He looked at it curiously. It had a Frigidaire label on the front. He opened the door and looked inside. He was surprised that there was a light on. “I wonder if this little light stays on when the door is closed?” he asked.

 

“I could get inside and you could close the door,” Carter said. “I’ll tell you if the light stays on.” He started to get up.

 

“No mate,” Newkirk said, placing a restraining hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Everyone knows that it’s dangerous to get inside a refrigerator. You could die.”

 

Carter looked at Newkirk with wide eyes. “Really?” he asked.

 

Newkirk nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “So if anyone is going to be put inside there, it should be the idiot writer.”

 

“Good point,” Carter said.

 

Le Beau impatiently cleared his throat. “Kinch, call London,” he said.

 

Kinch nodded. He picked up the white slim-line AT&T telephone and started to punch some numbers. He looked back at Newkirk. “Newkirk, what’s the country code for England?” he asked.

 

Newkirk told him and Kinch continued to press the numbers.

 

“I thought he would use the radio,” Carter said. “After all, we have a nice Grundig tabletop model in the tunnel.”

 

Le Beau shook his head. “The telephone is easier,” he replied. “Besides, we’re in one of those kinds of stories again.”

 

Carter nodded his head and stared back at Le Beau with an understanding look.

 

“What I would like to know,” Baker said, “is why we have all of these brand names in this story.”

 

“Oh, that’s simple,” Newkirk replied. “It’s called product placement. They do it all the time in the movies.”

 

“But don’t they movie producers get paid for doing that?” Baker asked.

 

Newkirk nodded. “Yes they do, but this idiot writer is too dumb to know that,” he said.

 

Kinch hung up the phone. “Okay,” he said. “London approved our mission. They are going to fax us over five first class airline tickets on a Lufthansa flight to Boston.” As he spoke, the fax machine started humming.

 

“Now that’s a bit unusual,” Le Beau said. “They normally tell us to make our own arrangements.”

 

“I guess this must really be a special mission,” Newkirk said.

 

“Maybe,” Kinch responded. “They did say that we had to use our credit card for expenses.”

 

“Which one?” Baker asked.

 

“American Express, of course,” Kinch said. “They said not to leave home without it.”

 

The men nodded happily. They would soon be out of the barracks and off in search of Colonel Hogan. They were determined to protect him from the evil Beach Bunnies, and whatever it was that they were after.

 

Part 2: Plot Bunnies Aweigh, Men of Stalag 13

 

The men pulled into the parking lot in their Hertz rental car. They were lucky; they had been able to get the luxury sedan. It impressed the importance of this mission to London. They got out of the car and stared at the beach.

 

“So how do we go about finding the Colonel?” Le Beau asked.

 

“I think we’ll have to try every beach on Cape Cod, looking for him,” Kinch said.

 

Newkirk clapped his hands together eagerly. “That sounds like a plan to me, mates,” he said. “Let’s go!”

 

“Newkirk, remember we are looking for Colonel Hogan,” Kinch said. “Let’s not get sidetracked.”

 

“Kinch, what makes you think that I could be …” he said. His eyes were following a young woman walking by him. The woman was perfectly tanned and wore a tiny red string bikini that left little to Newkirk’s vivid imagination. He watched until she walked over to a chair down the beach and sat down next to where 2 small children were playing. He shook his head and looked back at Kinch. “I’m sorry, what was it you were saying?”

 

Kinch sighed. “I said, let’s not get sidetracked to the real reason we are here,” he said.

 

“Right, and I was telling you that there is no way that I could be …” Newkirk said. He stopped talking as two more scantily clad young women walked by heading in the other direction. “Excuse me mates,” he said. “I think I see a clue that I must go and investigate.” He started walking down the beach in the direction the young women were walking.

 

Kinch sighed again. “I think this will be one of the toughest missions we’ve been on,” he said. “There are too many distractions.”

 

Le Beau shrugged. “I don’t see what is so distracting here,” he said. He was looking down the beach in the direction of another young woman who was putting sun block on herself.

 

“Le Beau, now don’t you start,” Kinch said.

 

“But Kinch, I am French,” Le Beau replied. “This is not distracting to me!” He walked towards the young woman and started talking to her. Within moments, he took the bottle of sun block and started rubbing it on her back.

 

Kinch sighed yet again. Now I know what Colonel Hogan felt like in the first Plot Bunny story. This is the third time I have sighed and it’s getting very tiresome. And to top it off, now I am talking to myself. Kinch sighed. When he realized what he had just done, he started looking around. He spotted a man sitting on a chair in sunglasses, pressing repeatedly on a thin box that was folded into an L-shape. “You guys wait here,” he said to Carter and Baker, and started walking over to the man.

 

The man looked up as Kinch stepped in front of him. Kinch noticed that the box had a little keyboard on the horizontal part of the box, and a screen on the vertical portion. There was a Dell logo just under the screen. Kinch bent over and looked at the writing on the screen.

 

“A-ha, just what I thought!” he exclaimed. “You’re the idiot that’s put us in this situation!”

 

The man looked up at Kinch for a moment, and then typed something into the box. Kinch looked at the screen and shook his head. “No, I will not get back over there and continue,” he said.

 

The man typed something else and Kinch bent over to read it. He straightened up and looked back towards where Carter and Baker were standing. Neither man was still standing there. Instead, there was a beautiful young woman beckoning him over. Kinch looked back at the man sitting in front of him. “You do like to make things difficult, don’t you?” he asked.

 

The man nodded and looked back at Kinch, waiting. Kinch shrugged. “Well, when in Rome,” he said.

 

The man bent down and typed something else. Kinch looked at the screen. “I know we’re not in Rome, you idiot,” he said. “That was just an expression. Maybe you’d like to tell me just exactly where we are?”

 

The man nodded and typed furiously on the keypad again. Kinch read the screen. “Fall Mouth?” he said tentatively.

 

The man shook his head vigorously and typed again on the keypad. This was getting tedious. Kinch wished the man would just say something instead of typing on this stupid keypad. He read what was written on the screen. “The first syllable is pronounced foul?” Kinch asked. “So we’re in Foul Mouth?”

 

The man looked at the sky and sighed. Then he typed something else on that infernal box of his. Kinch looked at the screen. “I see, it’s Falmouth, pronounced like foul-myth,” he said.

 

The man nodded and pointed back to the young woman that was getting a little impatient with Kinch. Kinch put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, I get the hint. I’m going!” he said. “I guess I’d might as well enjoy this little vacation too.” He turned around and walked towards the woman, who was smiling at him.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Later that evening, the men were sitting together at a table in a pub called The British Beer Company, across the street from the beach where they had spent the day.

 

“Any luck?” Kinch asked.

 

“Eh?” Newkirk said, looking at Kinch.

 

“Any luck finding the Colonel?” Kinch clarified.

 

“Oh, that,” Newkirk said. “I thought you were talking about something else.”

 

“I know what you were thinking about,” Kinch retorted.

 

“What was Newkirk thinking about, Kinch?” Carter asked naively.

 

“Never mind Carter,” Kinch replied.

 

Carter shrugged and went back to studying the menu.

 

“I didn’t find out anything useful from those women,” Newkirk said. “But I think they were hiding something.”

 

“I don’t think they could hide very much with what they were wearing,” Le Beau said.

 

“Ain’t that the truth!” Newkirk said. “You know something, I think this idiot writer we have isn’t so bad after all.” Le Beau and Baker nodded their agreement.

 

“You have got to be kidding,” Kinch said. “The plot of this story isn’t any better than the other two.”

 

“Oh, yes, that’s true,” Newkirk said. “But I was thinking about …”

 

“I know,” Kinch replied. “You seem to have only one thing on your mind.”

 

Carter looked up from his menu. “What does Newkirk have on his mind, Kinch?” he asked.

 

“Never mind Carter,” Kinch replied.

 

Carter stared at Kinch for a moment, then shrugged and went back to studying the menu.

 

“What I would like to decide,” Kinch said, “is what we are going to do next.”

 

“I know what I would like to do,” Newkirk responded.

 

“Yes Newkirk, I can guess what you would like to do,” Kinch said.

 

Carter looked up from his menu again. He looked at Kinch for a long moment, opened his mouth, stopped and shut his mouth again. Then he shook his head. “I know, never mind Carter,” he said and went back to studying the menu.

 

Kinch stared at Carter and sighed. Darn it! There I go again with the sighing. Kinch pointed at the map he had laid on the table. “Anyway, we should decide where to go next,” he said.

 

Both Baker and Le Beau looked at the map.

 

“Mashpee?” Baker asked.

 

“Sandwich?” Le Beau asked.

 

Carter looked up from his menu again. “Guys, I don’t see a mashed pea sandwich on the menu,” he said.

 

Newkirk, taking a sip from his beer, couldn’t hold back his laugh, which was unfortunate for Le Beau, who was sitting across from him at the table. Kinch dropped his head in his folded arms on the table. He rolled it from side to side. We’ve got to find Colonel Hogan soon. I can’t take too much more of this insane dialog.

 

Without raising his head, Kinch said, “Carter, Mashpee and Sandwich are towns on Cape Cod.”

 

“Oh,” Carter said, “Never mind then.” He went back to studying his menu.

 

Kinch raised his head finally. “Look, we have to plan this out. Cape Cod has a lot of beaches on it, and we’ll have to be organized to check them all out.” Kinch looked at Newkirk and Le Beau and noticed the eager anticipation in their eyes. “No, I don’t mean that!” he said.

 

“But Kinch, I’m French!” Le Beau exclaimed.

 

“Then go storm the Bastille,” Kinch retorted. “We have to find the Colonel.”

 

“Blimey, worse than me mum, he is!” Newkirk exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, but much better looking,” Baker said laughing.

 

Newkirk glared at Baker. Before he could respond, Kinch said, “Fellas, let’s concentrate.”

 

Still glaring at Baker, Newkirk pointed to the tip of Cape Cod. “What about checking here?” he said. “Provincetown.”

 

Kinch shook his head. “I don’t think he would be there,” he said. “Besides, you might not like the kind of Beach Bunnies that you will attract on the beaches there.”

 

Carter looked up from his menu. “Why not Kinch?” he asked.

 

Kinch told him.

 

Carter smiled. “That sounds like a good place to go, if everyone is happy,” he said.

 

Everyone stopped to stare at him. Le Beau shifted in the booth to move further away from Carter.

 

Kinch sighed. “No Carter,” he said. “I didn’t say they were happy. That wasn’t the meaning of that word that I was using this time.”

 

Carter stared at Kinch. Slowly a look of realization came over his face. He quickly started shaking his head. “No, that would not be a good place to go,” he said.

 

“I agree with Carter,” Newkirk said. “Those aren’t my kind of Beach Bunnies at all.”

 

Ignoring Carter and Newkirk, Kinch continued, “I think we should head over to Martha’s Vineyard.”

 

Le Beau perked up. “A vineyard?” he said. “We could have a little wine, and maybe this Martha will know where the Colonel is.”

 

Kinch sighed again. “No Le Beau, it’s not that kind of a vineyard,” he said. “Martha’s Vineyard is that island that you can see across the water from here.”

 

Everyone turned to look out the window. “But how can we get over there?” Baker asked.

 

“We can catch the ferry at Woods Hole,” Kinch said.

 

“Um Kinch,” Carter said, “I thought you said that was in Provincetown.”

 

Kinch stared at Carter. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

 

“The ferry, you said they were in Provincetown,” he said.

 

For the second time Kinch dropped his head into his arms folded on the table. The other men stared at him. Kinch stayed that way for almost a minute. When he raised his head, he looked at Carter and said, “I said ferry, spelled F-E-R-R-Y. It’s a boat, you dolt.”

 

Before Carter could respond, the waitress appeared at the table ready to take their order. The men all ordered. When it was Carter’s turn, he said, “I’ll just have a bottle of Dasani water. I’m not very hungry.”

 

“I’m sorry,” the waitress replied. “We only have Aquafina or Poland Springs bottled water.”

 

“Well then I’ll just have a Mountain Dew,” Carter replied.

 

When the waitress left, Newkirk turned to Carter. “If you weren’t hungry, then why did you spend all this time studying the menu?” he asked.

 

Carter shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Ask him.” He pointed over to the man that Kinch had talked to on the beach. He was sitting at a nearby table with that L-shaped box.

 

Newkirk started to get up but Kinch stopped him. “No Newkirk,” he said. “Let it go. It won’t be very helpful.” Newkirk sat down.

 

“Besides,” Kinch said, “we have to get over to Martha’s Vineyard.”

 

“Do you know the schedule of the ferry?” Baker asked.

 

Kinch looked over at Carter before responding. Carter didn’t show any signs of making a comment. “I don’t think the schedule matters,” he said. “After all, we are in this story that makes no sense so why should we stick to a ferry schedule.”

 

“Kinch is right,” Le Beau said. “I have a feeling that we’ll all of a sudden find ourselves on the island with no explanation as to how we got there.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

The men were standing in the middle of a clearing on Martha’s Vineyard. Surrounding the clearing were many quaint cottages. In the middle of the clearing was a large pavilion. On each cottage was a sign on which the name of the cottage was written.

 

Le Beau looked around. “See? I told you so,” he said.

 

“You were right,” Baker said. “The sad part is, I didn’t even get to eat my food.”

 

“Look at all these houses,” Carter said. “They look like gingerbread houses.”

 

“They’re so little!” Newkirk observed.

 

“I don’t think they are that small,” Le Beau said.

 

“That’s because you are so short, Le Beau,” Kinch said.

 

“Hey, no short jokes!” Le Beau exclaimed.

 

Kinch shrugged. “Not my fault,” he said.

 

Le Beau started scanning the area. He spotted a man sitting on a bench in the clearing in the middle of the houses. The man had the L-shaped box on his lap and was busy pounding away at it. Le Beau walked over to him.

 

“What’s the big idea putting short jokes in this story?” he asked angrily.

 

The man looked at Le Beau, then pounded a little at the keypad on the box. Le Beau looked at the screen.

 

“Yeah, so what. I’m short,” he said.

 

The man typed some more on the box and showed Le Beau the screen. Le Beau stared for a moment and then walked back towards the rest of the men.

 

“Well?” Newkirk asked.

 

“He said that if I ever want to see this story end, I have to put up with an occasional short joke,” Le Beau said.

 

“Then please put up with them!” Baker said. “I’d hate to have this go on forever!”

 

Newkirk was watching a group of young ladies walk down the street. The women were wearing very short shorts and tops that left their midriffs exposed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused. “I think I could put up with this for a while.” He nudged Le Beau and Baker and the three of them started walking down the street after the women.

 

Kinch sighed. “Oh brother,” he said.

 

“Where are they going Kinch?” Carter asked.

 

“Never mind Carter,” Kinch replied.

 

Part 3: Plot Bunnies Are Your Best Escape

 

Kinch stood over a little purple ball and putted it through an opening of a wooden structure shaped like a ship. The ball went through and plopped into the hole on the other side.

 

“Another hole in one,” Baker said, writing on a card with a short pencil.

 

“I think Le Beau should be the one to keep score,” Carter said. “After all, he’s short just like that pencil there.”

 

Le Beau glared at Carter, and then looked around. Sure enough, the man was a few holes behind them waving.

 

Kinch walked down and retrieved his ball from the hole. “Listen, let’s finish this game and move on,” he said.

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Newkirk retorted. “You’ve won every game of miniature golf we’ve played so far.”

 

“That’s beside the point,” Kinch said.

 

“Well if that’s not the point, then why are we playing?” Newkirk replied.

 

“This is another plot device to mention more towns on Cape Cod,” Kinch responded.

 

As if on cue, Carter asked, “So how many games have we played so far today?”

 

Kinch started ticking them off on his fingers as they walked to the last hole. “Well, after we got back from the trip to Nantucket this morning, we played in Bourne. Then we played at the Pirate’s Cove in Yarmouth and now we are in Hyannis at this place called Storyland.”

 

“So what’s next?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Brewster and Dennis,” Kinch replied.

 

“Do you think they will know where Colonel Hogan is?” Carter asked.

 

“Do I think who will know?” Kinch asked.

 

“These two fellas, Brewster and Dennis,” Carter replied.

 

Kinch stared at Carter for a long moment. “Carter, just hit the ball,” he said.

 

Carter shrugged and hit the ball. It traveled down the hill, into a little tube and shot out towards the hole. The ball rebounded off the back wall and then went into the hole. “I did it!” he shouted. “I got a hole in one!” He ran down to the hole and looked in. “Hey, where’s my ball?” he asked.

 

“It’s the last hole, Carter,” Baker said.

 

“So?” carter responded.

 

“You don’t get the ball on the last hole,” Baker said.

 

“That’s not fair,” Carter pouted.

 

“Carter,” Kinch said. “Be quiet or you don’t get any ice cream.”

 

“Ice cream?” carter said, his eyes lighting up. “Let’s go!”

 

Kinch sighed. I feel like a father on vacation with his 3 teenagers and a 5 year old. I have to keep an eye on the teenagers or else they will walk away after any member of the opposite sex that bats an eyelash at them. And Carter, oh boy, is he a handful!

 

* * * * * * *

 

The men were sitting at a picnic table outside the ice cream place. Carter had devoured two large cones and wanted another.

 

“No Carter,” Kinch said. “Two is plenty.”

 

“Aw shucks,” Carter pouted. “I never get to have anything.”

 

Kinch ignored him. “I’ve been thinking of where to look next,” he said.

 

“Have you decided anything?” Baker asked.

 

Kinch shook his head. “Not really,” he said, looking at the map on the table in front of him.

 

“We could go up here,” Le Beau said, pointing. “Truro and Wellfleet. There seems to be a lot of beach area in those two towns.”

 

Kinch nodded. “That’s true,” he said. “We can work our way north along the coast.”

 

Carter was looking through a little book. Kinch looked at the cover – Kids on the Cape. Suddenly, Carter dropped the book on the table and pointed to a page from it. “Hey Kinch, can we do this?” he asked.

 

Kinch looked. “Pirate Adventures of the Sea Gypsy in Orleans?” he asked.

 

Carter nodded vigorously. “Yes, we can go out on a pirate ship!” he exclaimed.

 

“I don’t know, Carter,” Kinch said. “I doubt that the Colonel would be on that boat. Remember we’re here to find him.”

 

Carter looked downcast. “But I want to have fun,” he pouted.

 

“Carter, keep quiet,” Newkirk admonished. Before he could say anything else, he noticed several young ladies heading towards the miniature golf course. Nudging Le Beau and Baker, he motioned in that direction.

 

Le Beau nodded and started to get up. “Kinch, while you figure out our plan, we’re going to escort those ladies around the golf course,” he said. Baker and Newkirk followed him to the golf course.

 

Kinch sighed. “Oh brother,” he muttered.

 

“What’s wrong Kinch?” Carter asked.

 

“Go get another ice cream cone, Carter,” Kinch said.

 

Carter smiled and jumped up to run inside.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Kinch parked the car in the beach parking lot and everyone got out.

 

“Where are we now?” Baker asked.

 

“Chatham,” Kinch replied. “We can look on this beach and see what we can find.”

 

Newkirk was scanning the beach. “’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” he said, pointing down the beach.

 

Kinch looked and saw what he expected. “No Newkirk,” he said. “At this beach we are going to look for Colonel Hogan.”

 

Newkirk shrugged and followed the rest of the men out onto the sand.

 

From behind them, the men heard a familiar voice, “And what are you men doing here?” it asked.

 

They turned and saw Major Hochstetter standing there. The men were speechless, not because Major Hochstetter had caught them outside of camp – way outside of camp. They were flabbergasted at what the Major was wearing.

 

“That is a very, um, interesting outfit you have on Major Hochstetter,” Kinch said tactfully.

 

The Major was clad in baggy shorts that hung down past his knees, a muscle-style shirt and around his waist was an inflatable floatation device with a ducks head in the front.

 

Hochstetter looked down. “Bah!” he exclaimed. “Those fools in wardrobe did it to me again! I said I was going to the beach for a little dunk, and they gave me a little duck!”

 

Newkirk smiled. “Aw come on Major, the duck isn’t that bad,” he said. “You know what they say, it’s not the size that matters!”

 

“Bah!” Hochstetter yelled again. “Heads will roll!” He stomped off down the beach, ignoring all of the pointing and laughing that followed him.

 

Le Beau was laughing hysterically. “I’m glad I saw that one,” he said. “If I was one of the poor readers of this story, it might not have seemed so funny.”

 

“That’s so true,” Baker agreed.

 

The men heard another familiar voice behind them and turned to find Kommandant Klink standing there, with Schultz behind him.

 

“Hello, Kommandant,” Kinch said.

 

“Hello men,” Klink replied. He took a deep breath of the salt air. “Ah, isn’t Palm Springs great?”

 

Baker and Kinch looked at each other. Kinch finally said, “Um Colonel, this is Cape Cod. Palm Springs is on the west coast of the country.”

 

Klink frowned. “Really?” he asked. Kinch nodded. Klink sighed, and Kinch was glad that it was somebody else’s turn. “I was hoping to make it to Palm Springs while we were on this vacation,” Klink said. “What are you doing here?”

 

“We’re looking for Colonel Hogan,” Kinch replied. “He’s off to find the elusive Beach Bunny.”

 

“Sounds like fun,” Schultz said.

 

“Schultz!” Klink bellowed. “You keep out of this.”

 

“Hey Schultz, what is that you are wearing?” Carter asked.

 

Schultz looked down at his outfit. “This is my swimsuit,” he said.

 

“Swimsuit?” Newkirk asked. “From what century?” The men laughed.

 

Schultz looked down again. “I do not wish to expose too much of myself,” he said.

 

“That might be hard for you, Schultzie,” Le Beau said.

 

“I hate to break this to you, but ankle length swim suits went out of style sometime in the early 1900’s,” Baker said.

 

“Really?” Schultz asked. “How come nobody told me?”

 

“Come on, Schultz,” Newkirk said. “Let’s go find you something more stylish to wear.” Newkirk led the big man away.

 

“So you are looking for Colonel Hogan?” Klink asked.

 

Kinch nodded. “We’ve looked over almost the entire Cape and haven’t seen any sign of him yet.”

 

“Hey Kinch,” Carter said, “let’s go on one of those whale watch boats.”

 

Kinch sighed. “I don’t think he will be out there,” he said.

 

“I know, but I think we’ll see something out there,” Carter replied.

 

“What makes you say that?” Baker asked.

 

Carter pointed over to a pile of large rocks. They saw the man again, sitting on a large boulder with his L-shaped box on his lap, pounding away.

 

Kinch sighed again. “I suppose we better indulge him,” he said.

 

Before they could walk away, Newkirk returned leading a reluctant Schultz by the hand. “There you go Schultzie,” he said.

 

The men looked at Schultz. “What exactly are you wearing?” Klink asked.

 

Schultz was almost too embarrassed to speak. “I believe the man called it a speedo,” Schultz whispered.

 

Le Beau was trying hard not to laugh. “It looks like something that the writer should have put on Colonel Hogan!” he exclaimed.

 

The men heard a loud whistle and glanced over at the man sitting on the rocks. He pounded furiously on the keypad on the box. Then he motioned to the men and pointed at the screen. Kinch sighed and walked over to glance at the screen. He read what was on it and came back.

 

“Well, what did it say?” Baker asked.

 

“He didn’t want to take a chance with putting Hogan in that outfit,” Kinch replied. “He was afraid of teasing too many members of that SmartGroups list thing.”

 

“Teasing them how?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Can you imagine Colonel Hogan in that outfit?” Kinch asked

 

“Well, he’s not my type,” Le Beau said. “But I do get your point. We would probably have too many of those writer-people flocking to this story.”

 

Kinch nodded. “Exactly. We could have a riot on our hands with everyone fighting to get near him,” he said.

 

“So now can we go on the whale watch boat?” Carter asked.

 

Kinch sighed. “Yes Carter, we can go now,” he replied.

 

* * * * * * *

 

The boat had gone miles away from the shore. The men stood on deck, looking out at sea.

 

“I can’t wait until we see them!” Carter exclaimed.

 

“Settle down, Carter,” Newkirk said. “We’ll see them.”

 

Suddenly, the captain of the boat directed their attention to the port side of the boat. The men all moved to the left side of the boat, except for Carter.

 

“Carter, get over here!” Le Beau said.

 

“But Le Beau, the captain said the port side,” Carter said. “And the port is back in that direction!”

 

“Carter!” Kinch exclaimed. “Port is a nautical term for left.”

 

“Oh,” carter said, and joined the others.

 

Baker pointed out to sea. “Look, there they are!” he said.

 

Everyone watched as several whales arched out of the water. One of the largest blew a spout of water from its blowhole as if putting on a show for the boat.

 

Klink pointed towards the end of the pod of whales. “Look, what’s that at the end?” he asked.

 

The men looked at Klink and Schultz. Schultz was still wearing his miniscule outfit, and looked very self-conscious.

 

“I didn’t know you two came along,” Kinch said.

 

Klink nodded. “We didn’t have anything else to do and I didn’t want to waste the airfare just to come here for one or two lines,” he said.

 

“Major Hochstetter didn’t seem to mind,” Newkirk said.

 

Klink shrugged. “Maybe the Gestapo has a bigger budget,” he said. “Besides, he doesn’t have to answer to General Burkhalter.”

 

Kinch let out a small gasp. Oh no, he said that name. I wonder what is going to happen now.

 

“As I was saying,” Klink said, “what’s that at the end?”

 

Kinch put the binoculars that he had brought up to his eyes to look. After focusing a bit and scanning to find the pod of whales, he moved the glasses to the end. When he saw what Klink was talking about, he nearly dropped the binoculars into the ocean. “You are not going to believe this,” he said.

 

“What is it?” Baker asked. Kinch handed him the glasses and Baker looked. “You’re right, I don’t,” Baker said astonished.

 

“Let me see,” Newkirk said and grabbed the binoculars. He looked through them and let out a laugh. “Blimey! It’s General Burkhalter out there!” he exclaimed.

 

There was a rush for the binoculars, as Klink, Le Beau and Carter each wanted their turn to look.

 

Sure enough, at the very end of the pod of whales that was surfacing, General Burkhalter was swimming. He would dive and surface, like the whales. Occasionally he would spit a stream of water into the air. What the men in the boat did not hear was the General saying over and over, “I hate this dummkopf writer!”

 

“Well now I’ve seen everything,” Newkirk said.

 

“No you haven’t, old chum,” Baker replied. “We haven’t found Colonel Hogan yet.”

 

“That’s right,” Kinch said. “But I think it’s time for another one of those lines of asterisks that places us in a new location. And I have a feeling that we will find Colonel Hogan.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Klink asked.

 

“We only have one town left to visit, and I don’t think that this writer is dumb enough to send us on this chase without finding the Colonel,” Kinch replied.

 

“Are you sure about that?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Of course not,” Kinch said. “Look out, here come those asterisks.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

“Whew, that was close!” Baker said.

 

“I warned you,” Kinch responded.

 

“Where are we now?” Carter asked.

 

“We’re on the Cape Cod National Seashore in Eastham,” Kinch replied. “Over there is the Coast Guard station.”

 

Everyone turned to look.

 

“Should we go Ooooooh and Ahhhhh now?” Carter asked.

 

Kinch shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said. “We don’t need the sound effects for this story. Look, there’s the Colonel,” he said, pointing to a spot on the beach.

 

Everyone looked to where Kinch was pointing. Indeed, there was Colonel Hogan, soaking up some sun. The men were shocked to see two blonde Beach Bunnies on the sand beside him.

 

“Oh no,” Newkirk said. “It looks like two of those Beach Bunnies have got him. We’ve got to help the Colonel!”

 

They ran across the beach towards the Colonel, yelling at the Beach Bunnies. Colonel Hogan raised his head and looked towards the commotion. When he saw his entire team running towards him, followed by Klink and Schultz, he winced.

 

“Well, there goes the neighborhood,” he said to Hilda and Helga, who were beside him on the sand.

 

The men reached Hogan and stopped. They stared at Hilda and Helga in surprise. Newkirk stared at them with a little more than surprise, but seeing the glare of his Colonel, he quickly looked away.

 

“Colonel, I’m glad we found you!” Kinch exclaimed.

 

“Well I’m not!” Hogan responded. “Why did you have to come here anyway? We were having such a peaceful time.”

 

“And you didn’t take us?” Kinch asked.

 

“Sorry,” Hogan said sheepishly. “I guess I figured that I would be back before you knew I was missing.”

 

Kinch cleared his throat. “Colonel, now that we found you I have something to say,” he said.

 

“Yes, what is it?” Hogan asked.

 

Kinch pointed to Newkirk, Le Beau and Baker, who had wandered down the beach following several young ladies with very little to hide. “They’re all yours,” he said.

 

With that, Kinch turned around and walked towards a group of four beautiful ladies who where waiting for him by the parking lot. When he got there, they all rushed to give him a welcome kiss. Kinch turned around and looked back. Hogan could see a very broad smile on his face. Kinch waved, and followed the ladies into a brand new sport utility vehicle and drove away.

 

Hogan looked pleadingly over at Klink. “Don’t look at me,” Klink said. “I wanted to go to Palm Springs.” He shook his head and started walking away down the beach.

 

Hogan looked at Schultz. “That’s a very interesting swim suit you have on Schultz,” he said. “It leaves very little to the imagination.”

 

Schultz nodded, and reddened with embarrassment. Hilda and Helga looked at each other and nodded. Smiling, they got up and each took one of Schultz’s arms and led him away. As he left, Schultz looked back at Hogan with a huge smile on his face.

 

Hogan looked around for Carter. He saw him down the beach, trying to fly a kite. Hogan sighed. “So much for my vacation,” he said aloud.