Big Game
Margaret Bryan, Patti Hutchins

Papa Bear Awards 20032003 Papa Bear Awards - Third Place
Best Challenge - Word of the Week (roam)

Papa Bear Awards 20032003 Papa Bear Awards - Third Place
Best Short Story

Here is another Hogans’ Heroes fan fiction based on a challenge posted to the HH Smartgroups List. This challenge continues the group’s ‘Word of the Month’ fan fiction challenge that was begun by Lauren (The Oboe One). This month’s challenge is to include the word ‘roam’ in a Hogan’s Heroes Fan Fiction.

This game takes place after the events chronicled in our story, The Skins Game aaka The Easter Potato Hunt. We again do not make any claims on the original Hogan’s Heroes’ characters. All other characters are ours. But again, those characters are free for anyone to use, if you so choose. Our rating for this story would be G. Enjoy!


Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play.

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word, and the skies are not cloudy all day.

Home on the Range

The Official Song of the State of Kansas

Written by Brewster Higley

Composed by Daniel Kelley

Circa April 1873

Hammelburg, Germany, Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,

May 3, 1944, 2230 Hours

Sergeant Andrew Carter, now more widely known throughout the Luft Stalag as "Little Deer Who Runs Swift and Sure through Forest", was lying awake in his bunk. He had screwed up again tonight, when he almost burned down barracks two with a flaming arrow. He had been so sure that he could do what the Colonel had asked of him -- to hit a moving truck, with that flaming arrow -- as it passed by camp. The truck was loaded with an experimental jet fuel and London wanted it destroyed along with its inventor, who would also be in the truck. But Carter had miscalculated completely and hit the barracks with the arrow instead.

Colonel Hogan just shook his head and sighed deeply at me, almost as if he was expecting me to screw up. Luckily for us, Newkirk is a decent shot with an arrow, even if he doesn't have any Indian blood. He immediately took over for me and was able to hit the truck. It was certainly an incredible display when the truck exploded right outside camp.

I hope the guys will let the subject drop. They’ve been teasing me all day since they found out about my background. At least Kinch – thanks buddy -- has been trying to stay out of it. I just don't really know what happened tonight. I wish I could have done the job myself. I really am a good shot, but no one will ever believe me now.

Andrew’s thoughts were drawn to a long ago summer spent in Alaska, when he first learned to make a bow and arrow, by hand, from his grandfather. He, "Little Deer Who Runs Swift and Sure through Forest", and his cousin, "Angry Rabbit with Thorn in Cottontail", accompanied their grandfather, "James White Wolf" when his grandfather, along with other conservationists, moved a small herd of 20 buffalo from Montana to Alaska’s Delta Junction. It had been a last ditch effort to save the species from extinction.

It had been one of the best summers of my life. And I know Angry Rabbit would agree with me. We both learned so much from my grandfather that summer… about the Buffalo, about our Indian heritage, and about his belief in the sanctity of all life, be it human or wild animal. It’s such a shame that not all people believe as my grandfather did. Maybe I wouldn’t have to be where I am today… dutifully leaving death and destruction in my wake. But I guess, in the world such as it is… it’s a necessary evil. Andrew sighed trying to clear his head of those visions of death and destruction. He just wanted to relive that summer for a while, before the reality of war would again invade his thoughts.

Andrew and Angry Rabbit’s fondest memory of that summer was sitting for hours with their grandfather as he showed them how to make a bow and arrow by hand, all the while regaling them with Indian legends. They spent days learning to shoot, finding any and all targets -- non-living targets -- that they could find. Both boys had become quite accomplished in the art by the end of that summer. I can still see my Grandfather’s face when, after what I’m sure felt like forever to him, both Angry Rabbit and I had mastered those bow and arrows. His eyes had glistened as only the Northern Lights could on a clear Alaskan night. He told us how proud he was of us. And how it filled his heart with delight that he could pass on something to his grandsons that had filled his own childhood with joy.

But, mostly James White Wolf told his grandsons the important value that Bison played in the lives of the American Indian. He sat both boys down many an evening so they could watch over the small herd of 20 buffalo as they roamed, grazing on the beautiful Alaskan grasslands. James told them that he had fulfilled a life-long dream in that summer of 1928 – helping to save the Bison. He told them that he could die in peace knowing that the mighty and dignified beast would live long after he was gone.

Andrew’s eyes filled with tears. His grandfather died shortly after that wonderful summer, but James White Wolf’s passion for life would live within his grandson forever. I love you grandfather. I hope you are still watching over me, as you did that herd those many years ago. I know that you are. I so look forward to the time that I can revisit Alaska’s Delta Junction and see what has become of your dream. Maybe someday soon. Of course, it will have to wait unit this war is over -- when people can relearn to enjoy the simple pleasures of life -- and when people no longer have to live in fear for their lives.

Andrew slowly drifted off to sleep, as his last thoughts turned again to the life that he now led. But his heart was just a little less heavy as he realized that his grandfather would always be watching over him. Andrew knew now that he could handle the teasing – about being an Indian – and about the flaming arrow mishap. All I really need to remember is that my grandfather believed in me. That’s all.

The End


The American Bison (Buffalo)

American bison (Bison bison), which shaped the lifestyle of the Plains Indians and figured prominently in American history before they were brought to near extinction, were transplanted to Alaska from Montana in 1928. While bison were the most common large land mammal in Alaska thousands of years ago, all of Alaska's existing wild bison came from 20 animals released near Delta Junction. Natural emigration and transplants have now created additional herds at Copper River, Chitina River, and Farewell. Small domestic herds are located at Healy, near Kodiak, and on Popov Island. There were approximately 700 wild bison in the state in mid-1985.

General description: The bison is the largest native land mammal in North America. A full-grown bull stands 6 feet (1.8 m) at the shoulder, is up to 10 feet (3.3 m) long and can weigh more than a ton (907 kg). Full-grown cows are smaller but have been known to weigh over 1,200 pounds (544 kg). A bison's head and forequarters are massive and seem out of proportion to the smaller hind parts. A bison's backbone begins just ahead of the hips and reaches its maximum height above the front shoulder. From above the shoulder, the hump drops almost straight down to the neck.

The bison's horns curve upward. The horns of the bull are larger and heavier than the horns of the cow. In late fall, the bison's coat is a rich, dark brown. As winter progresses, the coat changes color and is much paler by spring. When the weather warms, the hair loosens and hangs in patches until it is completely shed and replaced with new hair by late spring. Hair on the chin resembles a goatee. Older animals tend to have more hair on their heads.

Excerpt from and article

Written by Bill Griffin and David M. Johnson
Revised and reprinted 1994

Text and original characters copyright 2002 by Margaret Bryan, Patti Hutchins

This copyright covers only  original material and characters, and in no way intends to infringe upon the privileges of the holders of the copyrights, trademarks, or other legal rights, for the Hogan's Heroes universe.