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annieslytherpuff21 · 2 years

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Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 1

I will be crossposting this on fanfiction dot net account (LightShiner14) soon. I’m already a few hours late for November 1st and I want to hit all the days, so my anxiety and constraints of being a night shifter made me post it here first.

Holidays

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through barracks two not a creature was stirring except Felix the mouse.

Except, Carter was whistling cherry Christmas tunes, Newkirk was griping about the onslaught to his ears, LeBeau’s spoon was clanking on the sides of his pot on the stove, Kinch was talking football with a few guys at the table, and Colonel Hogan was chatting up a pretty underground agent who’d just dropped them off some intel about troop movements. So not really all that quiet.

“Carter, would you stop that infernal whistling?” Newkirk finally slammed his darning down, hopped down off the top bunk, and pulled Carter’s hat down over the young American’s face.

“Aww, come on, I wasn’t bothering anyone was I?” Carter fixed his hat and set down the letter he was writing and stood up to face off with the slightly taller Britt.

“LeBeau, please tell Carter here that he’s givin’ us all a brain bleed!”

“Hm?” LeBeau looked up from the pot where his attention had been focused. His eyes gave off a deer in the headlights gleam.

“Tell Carter to stop whistling,”

“I wasn’t bothering you, was I LeBeau?” Carter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You need to settle this yourselves, I won’t fight your battles for you. Grow up.” The Frenchman snapped before turning his attention back to his pot.

“LeBeau, are you feeling ok little buddy?” Newkirk was suddenly concerned about LeBeau and Carter’s whistling seemed inconsequential.

“Yeah, LeBeau, what’s the matter?” Carter chipped in.

LeBeau heaved out a heavy sigh and shook his head no. “I am fine, just thinking. I will be ok,”

But he wasn’t really, every Christmas was hard to get through. He tried to keep himself busy, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“You’ve been real quiet lately Louie, are you sure you’re ok mate?” Newkirk nudged the shorter Frenchman.

“40,” Louis whispered.

Recognition gleamed in Newkirk’s eyes and he squeezed the other man’s shoulder and huffed out a sigh of his own. “I know,” he nodded his head, gave LeBeau another squeeze and then nudged Carter back towards their bunks.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin Andrew, just sit back down and finish writin’ that letter, ok?”

“But what’s wrong with LeBeau?”

“You wouldn’t understand Carter, just give it a rest,”

“Fine,” Carter huffed, plopping himself back down onto his bunk and grabbing his pencil to finish writing his letter to his gran.

“And no whistling!” Newkirk grumbled as he saw the American’s pursed lips, like he was about to start up again.

Carter huffed but continued writing in silence.

As Newkirk started up his darning again, he, like LeBeau, got stuck thinking back to that terrible Christmas.

It was December 24th of 1940 and Newkirk had finally gotten to a destination. He’d been shot down and separated from the rest of his flight crew over a week prior. He had then been shuffled from train to train until he finally was stuffed into the back of a truck that brought him ultimately within the barbed wire of Stalag 13.

They were made to stand in a line, he and the other British flyers who had been in the truck with him, and wait for the Kommandant.

2 hours later, a tall gangly German came out of the building they were facing. He had a malicious grin and an evil twinkle in his eyes.

“Welcome to where you will die,” his smile grew.

Newkirk felt a pit grow in his stomach that was already gnawing at his insides from lack of food. A feeling he knew all too well.

“For you, the war is over. If you try to escape, you will be shot. If you do not follow the rules, you will be shot. And that would be lucky for you, because otherwise, the cold, that is what will kill you. Now! I will assign you to your barracks. If there is so much of a hint of insolence that I hear about, you will be shot. Be aware, the walls have eyes and ears, so if you step a toe out of line, I will know, and you will be shot.”

Newkirk quivered in his boots. His usual snarky self knew that he could get in trouble easily and he wasn’t too fond of the idea of being shot. Therefore, he decided that he was just going to keep his mouth shut. Safer that way, just like it had been with his old man.

Newkirk was assigned to barracks two. When he was finally dismissed, he entered his new dwelling to find that all but one other prisoner in there were all sporting French uniforms. He couldn’t control the grimace that grew on his face.

Bloody Frogs.

“Right on, what’s your name old chap?” The other Britt, whose proper accent made Newkirk even more uncomfortable than all the frog eyes on him, stood up and walked over to Newkirk with an outstretched hand of friendship.

Newkirk shook it, and cleared his throat, “Newkirk,” was all he said, but he could tell by the subtle changes in the other man’s face that it had been enough.

“Right, we’ll then,” the other corporal was much less cheery now, “ you can bunk there, the last bloke passed about two nights ago now,”

Newkirk gulped, the Kommandant hadn’t been joking. He nodded his head and made up his mind that he was going to do everything in his power to make it back to his sister alive.

Sitting down on his newly assigned bunk, he took in the rest of the barracks. Most of the men within were supporting cherry red noses and a haunted expression accentuated by deep dark bags under their eyes. A few had their arms in slings and there was much coughing.

Even though there were four walls and a roof, it was still very cold and everyone was trying their best to maintain their body heat.

Newkirk hadn’t even realized that he had drifted off to sleep until he heard the yells summoning all the prisoners to a roll call and in less than three seconds, all the prisoners were bolting for the door to make sure they were out in a timing that the Kommandant and his goons deemed respectable.

Newkirk, as hard as he tried to not be, was the last one out and his heart was pounding. He didn’t want to be shot within his first 24 hours of being a prisoner.

It was pitch black, the only light was from the guard towers and he saw the smoke that came out from all the noses and mouths of everyone present in the dim lighting. The sight made him feel even colder than he already did.

“Merry Christmas, in honor of this day and that you are so far away from all of your loved ones, we will celebrate by standing in formation until I deem fit!” The Kommandant announced over the loud speakers of the camp. He didn’t even dignify them with leaving his office, which, if the smoke billowing out of the chimney was any indication, was nice and toasty warm.

Newkirk had no idea what time it was and didn’t have the guts to look at his watch, afraid that tiny movement might get him shot.

They stood, and stood, and stood. Newkirk was afraid his legs were going to fall off. The sky opened up, and soon the men were starting to get snow accumulating on them, but no one moved. Their teeth clattered and their eyelashes started to freeze.

The wet started to seep through his clothes and eventually even his shoes. His toes were numb, and his face was as cold as ice.

They watched the sun rise, and it continued to climb. Still, they stood.

Men started falling to the ground, and if someone made a move to help them, a gun was trained in their direction.

When they finally were dismissed, Newkirk’s watch read 10. The men could barely move, they were all so stiff.

The hut felt so much warmer compared to the frigid temperatures outside.

“Merry Christmas, dirty boshe!” A short Frenchman growled helping one of the men who had collapsed into a bunk. “Someday, I’ll show him, make the filthy pig pay!”

“LeBeau, be more quiet, or they will hear,” the man he was helping whispered before letting out a horrendous cough.

“So what, let them shoot me! I don’t care, I will die for France!”

“France is in ruins, they have ruined our beautiful homeland,”

“Shh, we will someday rescue her and rebuild, picture the day, the wine will flow, and the children will sing, it will be a beautiful day, and we will see it,”

The other man was coughing violently and started convulsing.

The fiery one, LeBeau, started singing softly, a French carol and slowly the rest of the men started chiming in, just as softly.

It brought tears to Newkirk’s eyes. He didn’t understand the lyrics, but he understood the sentiment.

“They can steal our freedom, our land, and our lives even, but we can not let them steal our spirit, because that’s when we lose,” LeBeau hissed and his countrymen nodded in agreement and they started to sing what Newkirk recognized as the French national anthem.

Newkirk couldn’t help but admire the short man who single handed raised the morale of 15 other men.

It helped him too, even though he was sure the speech hadn’t been for him.

Unfortunately, LeBeau’s rallying words were some of the last that 5 of the prisoners in the barracks ever heard.

“Newkirk! Newkirk, are you ok?!”

Newkirk blinked as he registered that Andrew Carter was trying to get his attention.

“What is it now?” He grumbled, only half grumpy, at the American.

“Colonel Hogan wants to see you in his office, and you were off in another world,”

Newkirk rolled his eyes. “Ok Carter, and uh, you can keep whistling if you’d like.”

#hogans heroes #corporal newkirk #andrew carter #louis lebeau #colonel hogan #falling for hogan's heroes #holiday #stalag 13 #world war 2 #fanfiction #day 1 #original work

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maladjusted-nerd · 2 years

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louie lebeau 5'1 short king of my dreams

so true bestie

#5’1!! good for him #hogan’s heroes #porch-gremlin

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kayla1993-world · 4 years

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First nations star Tantoo cardinal has a theory that she likes to hold onto in times: That someone with a good heart and strong mind will stand up or swing by at just the right moment to offer support and keep the light on.

On Thursday, that moment was the announcement that cardinal – along with stars ryan Reynolds and Catherine O’Hara, among others – is getting an award.

While her career is thriving, the award comes at a time of tension between chiefs and provincial leaders over the GasLink pipeline.

And the actress feels the honor – in which nominations are submitted by members of the public – shows there is support for indigenous people.

Cardinal is getting an achievement award at the ceremony in April.

Reynolds, whose credits include The Proposal, Green Lantern and Deadpool, will receive the NACA, which recognizes work by an artist or company in the performance year.

After decades of trying to achieve recognition, truthful portrayals for native people through the arts, cardinal feels the award also belongs to those she’s representing.

Innu singer-songwriter Florent Vollant, who has worked extensively with native musicians, is also among the achievement winners.

Volant has lived a life largely on the road, performing concerts and blazing a trail for native musicians, and said he’s happy the honor gives him a chance to thank those around him who have supported his lifestyle.

But while he was excited about the honor his thoughts were also on the pipeline tensions that have seen blockades and rallies pop up across the country.

His career has seen perform in the duo Kashtin, with musician Claude McKenzie, and then as a solo artist.

He’s recorded albums, founded a recording studio for native musicians, created a circle for youth, and collaborated with artists including Robbie Robertson.

He’s also an advocate for the preservation of waterways.

The achievement list is rounded out by composer Alexina Louie, who has written for the stage and screen, and dancer-choreographer Zab Maboungou, who pioneered a technique that draws on the rhythms of music and dance.

The recipient of the john Hnatyshyn award for voluntarism in the performing arts is resources consultant Lynda Hamilton, who hails from British Columbia.

The awards also include a program in which recipients offer guidance to artists in mid-career.

The participants are Suzanne Lebeau as the mentor and Marie-eve Huot as the protégé.

The 2020 laureates will be honored at events in Ottawa, culminating in the awards gala at the center in April.

Created in 1992, the awards are presented annually to Canadians who accomplishments have inspired and enriched the cultural life of our country, says a release.

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ao3feed-hogansheroes · 5 years

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The Choices He Made - A Story of Louie LeBeau (no, really, it is, just be patient)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2NSnHJ7

by DixieDale

"We've each of us lost so much to that war - the lives we would have had. That cannot be changed, but we can try to make good choices for ourselves now. We will not be able to have EVERYTHING we might want, who does, but we can have some of what we want. We just have to decide what best to strive for." Louie LeBeau to Peter Newkirk, 'Reunion'

Words: 6220, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Hogan's Heroes, Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Louie LeBeau, Marya Parmanova, Cally O'Donnell, others - Character

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2NSnHJ7

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #hogan's heroes

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benevolenterrancy · 3 years

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okay but for real i really miss being able to go to a restaurant that serves escargot

#hogan's heroes #louie lebeau #lebeau #corporal lebeau #newkirk #corporal newkirk #peter newkirk #my art

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louiejoyce · 6 years

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The Ragin’ Cajun!

www.louiejoyce.com

#Louie Joyce #Illustration #Gambit #remy lebeau #x-men #Marvel #Comics #Comic Art #Mutant #x-men the animated series #Drawing #Digital Art #90s

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ao3feed-hogansheroes · 6 years

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Nothing Worthwhile

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MH6HrU

by DixieDale

Sometimes he though the worst thing about being a prisoner of war was the feeling of being irrelevant. Well, no, not the worst thing, of course; there were many, many things much worse. Still, Louie LeBeau was having a difficult time overcoming his current feeling of uselessness. Sometimes it seemed there was very little he did that was really worthwhile. Take today for example . . .

Words: 1496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Hogan's Heroes

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MH6HrU

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #hogan's heroes

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ao3feed-hogansheroes · 6 years

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It's A Bloody Small World, Indeed!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rZhOQ1

by DixieDale

The letter from Coura was just chock full of surprises, as always, but the casual little tidbits she dropped in certainly livened the place up more than expected. The first, that the Clan matriarch had actually given some thought to farming out Coura and her twin brother to the Heroes for a brief 'training course', Newkirk thought the guys were going to choke, never mind the thunderstruck look that had come over the Colonel's face. But the real clincher? Well that had to be the news that Marya Parmanova (yes, the White Russian that Louie was head over hills for) had mentored one of the Clan youngsters at the same time Newkirk had mentored the Brat? Newkirk was beginning to wonder if those letters were worth the grey hairs they seemed to give him, between LeBeau's estatic reaction and Hogan's less than pleasant one. And if Coura's calm acceptance of certain after-war possibilities for the little Frenchman raised more than a few eyebrows, well, it put certain rather tempting ideas into Newkirk's mind (along with blushes to his cheeks).

Words: 4845, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 15 of The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk

Fandoms: Hogan's Heroes, Clan O'Donnell - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Carter, Newkirk

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rZhOQ1

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #hogan's heroes

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ao3feed-hogansheroes · 6 years

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All Loyal Frenchmen

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rRuN73

by DixieDale

When DeGaulle sends out the clarion call for all loyal Frenchmen to return to join in the battle for freedom, Louie feels compelled to answer the call. But what about those he leaves behind? The decision seems so easy, until an accident makes him question just where he can do the most good. Can a new friend help him find his way?

Words: 3414, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk

Fandoms: Hogan's Heroes, Clan O'Donnell - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: LeBeau, Caeide O'Donnell

Additional Tags: Decisions

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rRuN73

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #hogan's heroes

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