Blame Kits for this one folks. A Christmas Carol, Hogan's Heroes style. The familiar HH characters are not ours. We hope you all enjoy our latest effort. We won't say that this will be our last Holiday effort, but we've now thoroughly covered the Christmas Holiday! Valentines Day beware! Be afraid, be very afraid.

For the Gestapo, Christmas Day is like any other day of the year. Defending the Third Reich from its Enemies was a 365-day a year job. There was no time for foolish, trivialities such as Christmas.

Or was there...?

Wolfgang slammed his phone down in anger. Those saboteurs from the Underground have struck again! Damn, the Hammelburg Bridge was out. Again. How many times did this make it? Eight, or was it nine? Whatever the number, it was too damned high. Berlin would be on his case again when the report was filed. I should have caught this group of saboteurs long before now! But they disappear into the night, leaving no trace. Nothing. I know that bastard Hogan has something to do with this... But there is never any proof. I have never been able to prove that he has ever left Stalag 13. There has never been a successful escape from there. At least that's the story. Everytime I mention my theory to Berlin, they laugh hysterically at me. A POW? Impossible they say. But, I know. I know that he's guilty. Someday I will prove it!

He turned and his eyes fell on the papers on the table. He'd been reading them last night before he'd retired. Today he would act on the evidence found in those papers. Another traitor to be executed in defense of the Fatherland. He would let someone else from headquarters deal with the Hammelburg Bridge destruction. Today, he had more important matters to attend to. He personally wanted to deal with this traitor.

Karl Stern was a known black marketer. His reputation was such that everything the man owned or knew was for sale. Hochstetter himself had used the man once or twice for information gathering. But he has become too much of a liability, for Hochstetter and for his other acquaintances. The evidence was strong that Stern was also selling information to the Allies. Sometimes the same information. His family was also implicated in the evidence that had been gathered. But Stern had gone too far, and now had to be eliminated. He was no longer useful to the State.

Wolfgang dressed quickly as the apartment was chilly, but it mattered little. He never stayed here very long. Wolfgang arrived at headquarters and picked up a squad of men. Very shortly they had surrounded the Stern home.

Hochstetter had the door kicked in. Finding as expected, that Stern and his family were celebrating Christmas. There were opened toys on the floor for the two young Stern children. Karl and his wife, Helga were watching the children from next to the fireplace.

"Such charming domestic bliss, eh Herr Stern?" Wolfgang asked snidely. He watched as his men restrained the two adults who's first instinct had been to protect their children. Wolfgang motioned two more of his men to hold the children on the other side of the room, away from their parents. The youngest, a girl of 10 was crying. But her brother, a sturdy lad of 14 was struggling against the soldier who held him.

"What do you want, Hochstetter?" Stern demanded.

"You and your family have ceased to be useful to the Fatherland," Hochstetter answered. "We now have proof, Herr Stern, that you have sold information to the Enemy. That makes you a traitor. And I am sure you understand what that means."

Without waiting for a response from his prisoner, Hochstetter nodded to the men holding the children. Two shots rang out and both children slumped dead to the ground. Helga Stern gasped and began to scream. Hochstetter silenced her, himself. Two of his men still held the remaining struggling prisoner.

"You bastard! I hope you rot in Hell! You'll regret this, I'll haunt you forever!" Karl Stern yelled before Wolfgang put a bullet in his head.

Wolfgang and his men left the Stern home without a backward glance. The fire still burning merrily in the fireplace, warming a room where only cooling bodies lay in pools of their own blood.

Wolfgang Hochstetter woke with a gasp. His room was icy cold. As he sat up to get another blanket something compelled him to look at the chair in the corner of the room. There, in a stray beam of moonlight from the window, sat Karl Stern.

Stern grinned at him, the bullet wound in his forehead still dripping blood. "Wolfgang Hochstetter," Stern spoke, his voice echoing strangely in the bedroom. "I warned you I would do this!"

"You're a dream. You're not real. I killed you this morning!" Wolfgang protested, clutching the extra blanket to his chest.

"Yes. This morning. Christmas Morning. You killed my wife my two children and me. You have no remnants of humanity left in you. I have been sent here to teach you the error of your ways. Repent. Recant. Or beware of your fate," Stern warned, rising from the chair, seeming to tower over the Gestapo officer. "Beware the visitations of three more spirits this night."

"No. You don't exist. You hold no power over me. Be gone," Wolfgang threatened, pulling his luger from the dresser behind him.

Stern laughed, "Go ahead, kill me again! And again if you wish. It will do you no good! Beware the ghosts of Christmases Past, Present and Future!" Stern's laughter echoed a long time after his visage had disappeared.

"No. It was a dream," Wolfgang protested, allowing the gun to slip from his suddenly nerveless fingers. "A dream that's all." He spread the blanket he held on the bed and crawled back under the covers.

Wolfgang opened his eyes to the sound of children's excited laughter. He growled to himself. Who would be making that insane racket this late at night? I have no neighbors who have children. He got up and looked out of his window to locate the sound.

What the ...?! The sight that greeted his eyes was familiar, but belonged in the past. His past. He saw the worn hall of the orphanage where he had grown up. Herr Klein, the caretaker sat near the fireplace watching the dozens of happy children opening their toys on Christmas morning. That's me. That boy there, with the nutcracker...!

"Yes, Wolfgang. It's Christmas 1910, and you're holding the Nutcracker that I gave you," echoed a voice from behind him.

Wolfgang spun around; his eyes widened as he recognized the elderly man who stood there. "You're Frederick Shultz. You owned the Schatze Toy Company. You delivered the toys to the orphanage on Christmas Eve each year," Wolfgang said with surprise.

"Yes. You were such a charming, pleasant boy. You held such potential, such talent. You could have been an ambassador, leading our countrymen into peaceful cooperation with other world powers." Frederick shook his head with sadness. "Its such a shame. A waste really."

"What is?" Wolfgang asked confused.

"You don't know?" the elder Shultz asked surprised.

"Know what?" Wolfgang asked again.

"That you no longer retain the humanity that you possessed as a child. Now you extort. You torture. You murder. You have no conscious, no second thoughts. You have no remorse. You have no reason to live," Frederick explained patiently as if to a child.

"You are wrong. I protect the Fatherland. Everyone respects me. My duty is to the all glorious Third Reich. You will see. We will conquer the World. Hitler is right. He will lead us to ultimate victory!" Wolfgang protested, passionately.

"No. You are wrong," Frederick replied. "I pity you."

"Bah! This is a dream, nothing more. I am happy. My duty is my glory," Wolfgang replied haughtily.

Frederick sighed, "I have failed. Beware your next visitor. The spirit of Christmas Present."

Frederick Shultz disappeared and Wolfgang again found himself sitting up in bed, shivering from the coldness of the room. He shook his head to clear it and snuggled back under his covers. A dream. Nothing more than that.

Wolfgang opened his eyes to the sound of children's terrified cries. He growled to himself. Who would be making that insane racket this late at night? I have no neighbors who have children. He got up and looked out of his window to locate the sound.

What the ...?! The sight that greeted his eyes was the same orphanage of his previous dream. He saw the worn hall of the orphanage where he had grown up. Frau Haute, the caretaker tried to comfort the many frightened children as the bombs rained from the sky.

"Look closely. You're responsible for this," a familiar voice echoed behind him.

He whirled around. "Shultz! What are you doing here?" Wolfgang asked the rotund guard from Stalag 13.

Hans Shultz smiled wanly. "I am here to show you Christmas present. This orphanage and every other orphanage in Germany are forlorn and unhappy this Christmas morning. Some like this one are being bombed," Hans explained wearily.

"That is not my fault," Wolfgang protested.

"No. Not directly. But my factory has been taken by your 'all glorious Fatherland' that you defend so passionately. No toys are made there now, only guns. Used to destroy and kill. No toys are delivered to the children as was done in your childhood. These children know nothing but terror and abandonment," Hans replied sadly.

"That is not my fault either," Wolfgang pointed out acidly.

"That is not entirely true. You are responsible for the people of Hammelburg. You have abandoned these children. You extort, you torture, and you murder. You have no trace of humanity left in you. You hold no compassion for the children of this town. So here they sit," Hans said his hand sweeping the scene before the two of them, "terrified with no hope."

"We all have to make sacrifices for the glory of the Fatherland. All these children need do is wait. Once victory is assured, the Fatherland will take care of them," Wolfgang assured Shultz. "There is nothing I need to do for them."

"No. You are wrong," Hans replied. "I pity you."

"Bah! This is a dream, nothing more. These children are not my concern. My duty is my glory," Wolfgang replied haughtily.

Hans sighed, "I have failed as well. Beware your next visitor, that of Christmases yet to come."

Hans Shultz disappeared and Wolfgang again found himself sitting up in bed, shivering from the coldness of the room. He shook his head to clear it and snuggled back under his covers. A dream. A horrible dream. Nothing more than that.

Wolfgang opened his eyes again to the sound of children's excited laughter. He growled to himself. Who would be making that insane racket this late at night? I have no neighbors who have children. He got up and looked out of his window to locate the sound.

What the ...?! The sight that greeted his eyes was the same hall as in the previous two dreams. But there was a subtle difference. The hall gleamed with care, the wooden walls shone, and the floor had rugs scattered on it. A large Christmas tree stood in the corner, a fire burned brightly in the hearth. Dozens of happy children played with an abundance of toys scattered across the hall. As he watched two very familiar figures entered the hall along with Frau Haute. Hogan! Klink! What are they doing here? Together? Hogan was dressed as a General and Klink was a civilian. Very strange.

"Yeah, you're right about that Major," another familiar voice echoed from behind him.

Wolfgang twisted around hastily, his eyes blazing with fury. "Hogan! What are you doing here?!"

"I'm here to show you the Christmas you won't see if you continue down the path you've chosen. This is Christmas 1946," Colonel Hogan explained.

Wolfgang looked between the two Hogan's. The familiar POW was a Colonel. The one in the orphanage's hall was a 3-star General.

"Yes. This is what the future holds," Colonel Hogan said, coming up behind Wolfgang peering through the window as well. "Germany is defeated. I've become the Military Governor of the US Controlled Zone here in Southern Germany. What you are witnessing is the first delivery of toys from the Schatze Toy Company after the war has ended. Wilhelm Klink works for me."

"I don't believe you. What you've said is an impossibility. Germany will prevail," Wolfgang stated.

"You're living in a fantasy Major," Colonel Hogan replied. "One that will not come to pass. Your death is assured should you continue down the path you are on. You extorted, you tortured, and you murdered. You showed you had no trace of humanity left in you. You held no compassion for your fellow man. Your life ended 18 months ago. You did not survive till the war's end."

"No. That's impossible. You are wrong. Germany will not be defeated. Hitler will triumph. The Third Reich will reign supreme. I will be a hero to the Fatherland. I know that you have always been a menace to the Fatherland. You are the most dangerous man in Germany today and I will prove it! And it will be you, who does not survive this war," Wolfgang proclaimed.

"No. You are wrong. I pity you," Colonel Hogan replied. "I too have failed. You have no more visitors to dissuade you from your chosen path. May Hell accept you, Heaven will not."

"Bah! This is a dream, nothing more. These things you say are lies. My duty is my glory," Wolfgang replied haughtily.

Colonel Hogan disappeared and Wolfgang found himself on a quiet dirt road. The quiet was shattered by gunshots. Wolfgang turned toward the sounds and watched as the Underground executed a squad of Gestapo. He saw himself as he turned and tried to run away. Coward. Why did I run? He watched as the underground men played games with him until he to lay dead, face down in the clearing, a bullet in his forehead.

The Underground men faded into the darkness.

Wolfgang stood staring at his dead body, shaking.

Wolfgang sat bolt upright in bed as the alarm clock blared from the table beside the bed. Groggily he slapped the clock silent. He lay back against his pillow. A dream. It was only a dream. I am alive. There is no truth to dreams.

Wolfgang got out of bed and prepared for another day. He planned to go to Stalag 13 and interrogate Hogan. Again. His men had found no evidence at the Hammelburg Bridge yesterday. But I know Hogan's guilty. I will prove it one day.