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Carter couldn't imagine the look on his mother's face if he told her he had just lied to the people he considered friends. Lying earned him all sorts of punishments as a kid, and the punishment often depended on the lie that was told and what resulted from it. Lying about not taking a cookie from the jar? No dessert for a few days. Lying about putting a hole in his father's rowboat while practicing with his rifle? A whole slew of punishments. Grounding, being struck with a belt, having to pay for the boat's repairs, and having the rifle taken away. All because he lied to try to avoid such things, and instead had them brought on as a result.
"Lying means that you have no faith in others to handle the truth," his mother had once said. "You should be deeply ashamed of yourself if you don't have faith in your own family."
Carter grew to hate lying as an adult, but in his new line of work with the rest of the prisoners-of-war in Stalag 13, lying became essential to survival, and telling the truth could get someone killed. Surely, his mother would understand that. He expected to only lie to the Germans, but when he got that letter—that damned letter—from Mary Jane, things changed.
Promises were broken. That was another thing he hated, as he was raised to value the keeping of a promise. But he supposed Mary Jane couldn't wait anymore, so she broke her promise to him that they would marry when he returned home. For Carter, that was inexcusable, so he wanted to go home and fix things, convince her to have patience and that he loved her deeply. Unfortunately, the mission that he decided to take part in when he was sent to Stalag 13 took priority. Eventually, though Colonel Hogan caved and said he could go home after he completed one last task for the Underground involving a microfilm hidden in a lighter. This mission resulted in Carter being put in the cooler for a time, and that entire time was spent feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions.
When he left the cooler, Carter found himself indecisive once more. Hogan was right in that their mission with the Underground was important, but they could always find someone else to fill his place, couldn't they? It wouldn't be a total disaster.
He needed advice, but his friends wouldn't have any. That was another thing pulling at him. Their attempts to help fell flat, and in many ways came across as though they were trying to tell him to forget Mary Jane and pick up another woman. It didn't exactly surprise him that none of them were in stable relationships. Then again, he was no longer in a stable relationship.
The first thing Carter did when he returned to Barracks Two was climb into his bunk and look through his belongings. He found a bundle of blue ribbons tucked into a box with letters and gifts from a particular set of friends he made just a month prior. He quickly penned a letter and after sealing it in an envelope, he went outside with one of the ribbons.
After a few minutes of waiting, a huge, black bird circled downward, landing on one of the windowsills of the barracks. The raven sat patiently as Carter tied the letter around its body. "Take that to Hauptsturmführer Veidt," Carter whispered.
Giving a harsh call, the raven turned and flew away with the letter tied to it.
Carter didn't want any of the others thinking he was still upset over Mary Jane, so he kept his plan to himself. When he left the barracks that night, he had a story in mind. A lie. A pretty big lie. Yeah. Going to see some random barmaid. I remember her name, but that's it. The others will think I'm fine. Moved on. Mary Jane is a distant memory.
So he told Hogan and the others that was where he was going that night. He wasn't going home. He was "going into town to see Mady." In reality, he was meeting up with Hauptsturmführer Kurt Veidt, a member of a resistance group based in Augsburg, and Private Johann Lechner, an ice Conjurus whom they had all helped get to a POW camp near Augsburg so he could hide from the SS.
A strange feeling of freedom washed over Carter when he climbed up through the tree stump tunnel. Granted, he wasn't free physically, but he felt like he could be honest now. No more lies. No more suppressing what he was actually thinking and feeling.
Instead of going into Hammelburg like he told the others, Carter headed deeper into the woods. He opened his bag and took out a flashlight, then glanced around to make sure he was alone before flashing it three times. A second later, he got three flashes in return. Carter dashed up the snowy hill to get to the source of the flashes, and found Veidt and Lechner standing by Veidt's motorcycle, parked on a narrow path. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys!" Carter said before being roughly hugged by both of his friends.
"And we are very happy to see you, too," Veidt replied. "You said in your letter that you were having some personal trouble. What is it?"
The joy at seeing Veidt and Lechner again quickly faded. Carter sat on a fallen tree, trying to think of the best way to summarize the situation. "I… well, do you guys know what a 'Dear John' letter is?"
"Some of the prisoners in Stalag VII C have mentioned they have heard their American counterparts back in England talk about them," Lechner replied.
"I am unfamiliar with the term," Veidt said.
"It's a letter that a girl sends to say that she doesn't want to be in a relationship with you anymore. While you're fighting in a war, no less."
"Sounds quite cruel."
"It is, and I got one from Mary Jane."
Lechner's face fell. "Oh, Carter. You spoke so fondly of her while I was sheltering with you in Stalag 13. I am so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Lechner."
"Why exactly did you want to talk about this with us?" Veidt asked. "I would have thought your friends would help you."
"They… tried. In their own ways. None of it was helpful." Carter let out a sigh. "Hogan tried getting me to see that our mission to the Underground was more important than going home and trying to fix things. I understand that completely, but… it wasn't very helpful. You got LeBeau trying to tell me that after the war we can go to Paris and meet other girls. Schultz trying to tell me that women are like war and there's always another one that comes around, and Klink's secretary making weird advances toward me. I know Hogan set that one up. Come on, what kind of help is that?"
"It does not really sound like help," Veidt said.
Lechner shook his head.
"Don't get me wrong, though. In all other aspects, Hogan and the others are great, but not with stuff like this."
"I can see why you contacted us, then." Veidt folded his arms over his chest, trying to keep himself warm. "I will be honest, though, I do not have experience dating."
"Neither do I," Lechner said. "That does not mean we cannot try to help."
"Overall, it sounds like you need someone who is actually going to listen."
"I guess it's good that neither of you have experience," Carter said. "You don't have any advice that just comes across as… unhelpful." He looked down at the snow. "Everything… Everything I had hopes for after the war was just ripped away in that single letter. No more wife. No more house. No more kids. No more daydreaming about driving out to the local Christmas tree farm together. No more daydreaming about taking long walks through the woods or by the lake or in town. No more daydreaming about picking pumpkins together. All gone."
"I hope I do not come across as mean when I say this, but if your Mary Jane decided to end this relationship, I assume that means none of what you just mentioned meant as much to her as it does to you," Veidt said.
"That's why I wanted to go home. I wanted to see if I could talk her out of it. You know what happened? She started seeing one of the town's air raid wardens."
"A quick fix for her, it sounds like."
"I just… never thought that would be her. We knew each other for years, since we were both little. It doesn't make any sense."
"That makes it worse," Lechner said.
"It does. It's almost like… it's not her anymore. Something changed and I wasn't there to stop it."
"What happened was beyond your control. A relationship requires work from both people, and you cannot help that you are not home."
"In some ways, I can. I should have escaped when I had the chance, instead of thinking I could be a hero. There's a perfect plan right there in camp, but I threw it away."
"You could not have expected this to happen. There was no reason for you to even imagine that this would happen."
"There was. All the guys I trained with, and everyone in my first prison camp said, 'Everyone here should expect a 'Dear John' letter at some point in your career.' I told them they were crazy. Turns out I was crazy."
"You are not crazy, Carter," Veidt said. "You value loyalty, no matter where life takes you."
"Yeah, well, I'm certainly not being very loyal to my own friends."
"How so?"
"A little while back, I volunteered to go on a mission to get a microfilm with fake maps into German hands. Went to a local tavern, and everyone there thought I was a Gestapo agent testing them—except the barmaid. Even she didn't really help because she didn't want to turn me in. Eventually, an actual Gestapo agent figured things out and took me back to Stalag 13, found the microfilm, and I got put in the cooler. The mission was a success, but I spent the entire time in the cooler trying to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, I wasn't sure if going home was the right thing to do. I mean, if Mary Jane is happy now, who am I to stop her, but where does that leave me?" Carter paused. "That sounded selfish, didn't it?"
Veidt and Lechner shook their heads. "I do not see it in you to hurt a woman, so it seems quite silly that Mary Jane would leave you," Veidt said.
"Yeah, but I still shouldn't stop her."
"If you do not want to stop her, then you do not have to."
"Where does your loyalty to your friends come into this?" Lechner asked.
"Oh, that. Yeah, sorry, got distracted. Anyway, with everything Hogan and the others tried telling me, I wasn't comfortable trying to open up the topic with them again, so I sent Veidt that letter and figured it would be best that I kept things quiet. When I was getting ready to come see you, the guys assumed I was going home, so I made something up. I told them I was going to see that barmaid."
"You made it sound like you had moved on, just like they told you to."
"Yeah." Carter nodded. "I lied. They're my friends, I shouldn't lie to them, but they gave me bad advice and were just going to keep giving me bad advice if I brought it up again, so it just isn't worth it to discuss things like this with them."
"As your friend, I would be pretty upset if you lied to me," Lechner said. "I imagine they will feel the same way."
"Not if they don't find out."
"Well, if you do not discuss this with them, things will not get better. They should know that their advice was hurtful. Otherwise, this will sow the seeds of your relationship with them falling apart."
Carter nodded again. "I… I guess you're right. I already lost one relationship. I don't want to lose more."
"And we do not want to see that happen," Veidt said.
"You did a lot for both of us, so I think we should return the favor," Lechner added.
"Yes. We can stay longer if you need it."
"Thanks. Would you mind… coming with me, then?"
"If that is what you feel that that you need, absolutely."
Carter led Veidt and Lechner back to the tree stump tunnel. They waited for the searchlight to pass over before ducking into the tree stump and climbing down into the tunnel network below. As they headed to the barracks, Carter looked over his shoulder at the two Germans. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I don't think I should've dragged you into this."
"We are here on your request," Veidt said. "We will back you up if you need it."
"Indeed," Lechner added.
When they got to the barracks, Carter climbed up to see the rest of the residents all settling in for the night, reading or having tea or having a last cigarette before bed.
"He's back. How'd it go, Carter?" Newkirk asked. "Does she like you?"
Carter looked down at the floor. "Could you get Colonel Hogan in here? I… have a confession to make."
"Don't tell me you're still thinking of running home, are you?"
"No, but you all need to hear this."
Colonel Hogan left his room with a somewhat confused look on his face. "What's all this about, Carter?"
Veidt and Lechner climbed out of the bunk bed, earning some surprised looks from the rest of the prisoners. "Hello, Colonel," Veidt said. "Nice to see you again."
"Nice to see you, too, Veidt, but what's going on?"
Carter bit his lip. "I have something to tell you. I… didn't go into town, and I didn't see Mady. I wrote a letter to Veidt and asked if he could bring Lechner so we could talk about Mary Jane."
"We talked to you about Mary Jane," Hogan said.
Swallowing hard, Carter shook his head. "No, you didn't, sir. Nothing any of you guys said to me helped. Now, I'm not going to claim that I'm innocent, because I lied to you. You're still my friends and I went and lied to you."
"Carter, we wanted you to stay and not do anything foolish that could risk exposing this operation."
"I know. I just… I wish you had gone about it a different way. I'm not stupid, Colonel. I know how important this operation and the Underground as a whole are. I didn't want to become a liability by being distracted with that letter."
"Carter—" Newkirk took his cigarette out of his mouth, "the colonel asked us to do whatever we had to in order to persuade you to stay, and, honestly, none of us have ever had the happy relationship that you had, so we didn't know what to say that could help."
LeBeau looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, maybe suggesting going to Paris to meet women wasn't… the most helpful."
"Look," Carter paused, rubbing his face, "I don't want to wreck another relationship. I shouldn't have lied—"
"No, we shouldn't have made you feel like you can't talk to us about anything," Kinchloe said. "If we didn't have that microfilm to deal with, we would've been more helpful."
"Fair enough."
An awkward silence fell over the barracks. Newkirk let out a sigh. "I think we all behaved badly over the last few weeks, and I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we didn't want you to go because you are a good friend, Carter, and we would all miss you."
"Thanks, Newkirk." Carter looked around at the others. "For the record, I'm not going home. I just wanted to clear things up."
"So, you're really not seeing that barmaid?"
"No, Newkirk, I'm not. I only said that so you all would think I was okay."
Hogan leaned against one of the bunks with his arms folded over his chest. "I can't say I'm happy that you lied, but I can understand why."
Carter offered a weak smile. "If you want, I can go blow up Klink's car and get the cooler for another thirty days. That'd be a fitting punishment, I think."
"No, I'm not going to punish you. I think being a prisoner is punishment enough, and you didn't put anyone in danger with this. The only thing I'll say is this—we wouldn't know where to find you if something happened, so I'm glad you came clean when you did."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
"Apology accepted. Don't do it again."
Carter nodded a little. "I won't, sir."
Hogan accepted that with a nod of his own. "Go on to bed, Carter." When Carter began changing back into his uniform, Hogan approached Veidt and Lechner. "Did you convince him to do this?"
"Do what?" Lechner asked.
"Convince him to come talk to us."
"I suppose we did."
"Well, thank you for doing so." Hogan didn't elaborate further. "Are you needed back in Augsburg?"
"No. We were allowed to stay the night if Carter needed us to."
"Alright. You can stay down in the tunnel."
"Thank you, Colonel." Lechner grinned, then looked over at Carter. "Would you care to join us in the tunnel? It would be just like old times."
"Sure. I'll come with you." Carter adjusted his jacket before following Veidt and Lechner down into the tunnel, completely unaware of Hogan smiling as he went.
When the bunk bed closed, Newkirk broke the silence. "You think Carter will be alright, sir?"
"I think he will," Hogan replied. "He's got plenty of people who care about him."