Title: Disguised
Author: Supesfan88
Summary: The newest arrival brings about a new experience for the experienced crowd in Stalag 13.
Warning: a little bit of swearing
Disclaimer: Hogan's Heroes aren't mine, nor will they ever be. The OC in this story though, is all mine.
A/N: My first foray into the world of Hogan and his heroes. Unbetaed. How'd I do?

As soon as the hat was removed he knew they were in trouble. "Hello," Robert said in a decisively female voice. "Roberta McPhee, Pilot Officer, 084362901."

The skin on Newkirk's forehead rippled as his eye brow quirked. "Roberta."

McPhee turned amused eyes on Newkirk's surprised ones and smirked.

"Colonel!" Carter squeaked from somewhere in the bunk in the far corner, which set off the rest of the POWs.

"Now wait," Hogan raised his hand and stepped towards McPhee. The POWs continued to argue and protest amongst themselves until he turned away from McPhee and yelled into the crowd, "shut up!" As soon as they finally quieted down he turned back to McPhee. McPhee smiled as she watched him scan her from head to toe. "I can take me greatcoat off for you if ya'd like?" she offered in an ever so slightly accented Scottish voice.

He looked up just enough to catch her eye and smile before returning to his inspection.

LeBeau's breathing stuck for a few seconds and Hogan looked towards the Frenchman and eyed him with an even look. LeBeau's cheeks flushed as he smiled sheepishly at the taller man. "It's been a long time," he offered with a half hearted shrug.

Hogan turned back to McPhee and rolled his eyes skyward for a split second before returning his attention to McPhee. "What happened to Robert McPhee?"

McPhee squared her padded shoulders and looked straight ahead. "Group Captain Robert Cameron McPhee was lost to consumption in the year of our lord, nineteen hundred and thirty six sir!"

Hogan's eyes softened a fraction and he nodded. "I'm sorry."

McPhee jerked her head down a bit and blinked. "Sir."

Hogan backed off with a final nod and Newkirk stepped forward. "Where are ya from?" "No a very strong accent for a member of His Majesty's army is it, my love?"

McPhee relaxed her shoulders and looked to Newkirk again. "With all due respect, Corporal, I'm not yur love."

Newkirk's smirk as he backed away was almost lost in amongst the cheers and jeers of the surrounding men. "Forgive me," he threw his arm out and bowed. "Ma'am."

Hogan smirked as McPhee grinned.

He hit the bunk twice and stepped away, pulling at McPhee's arm as he did so. "It'll take us a while to set you up an escape-"

"I'm not goin' till this bloody thing is over."

Hogan froze as every man in the barracks blinked.


"I'm not goin' till this bloody thing is over." McPhee repeated slowly.

Hogan tipped his hat back and scratched the side of his head just below his hairline. "Let me go this straight." His right hand slid up to his hip as his head tilted slightly. "You want to voluntarily stay in a POW camp?"

McPhee nodded without blinking.

"Forgive me," Hogan started, "but, why?"

McPhee swallowed hard and blinked. "My brother was starved to death in a POW camp in Italy."

"I'm sorry, but still, it doesn't make sense."

McPhee turned sad eyes to Hogan and swallowed again. "I owe it to him. sir."

Hogan scanned her face for a couple seconds and then nodded and turned his head away. "Ok."

Carter, Newkirk, Lebeau, and Kinch all stared at stone faced PO and then the colonel for a split second before they all advanced on him, talking and yelling at him in unison.

As soon as the group disappeared outside, lead by an unwilling Hogan, all the fight that had carried her since signing up, seemed to seep from McPhee all at once, and, as soon as her legs buckled, had her collapsing bonelessly onto the bunk behind her.


Somewhere between Kinch's lectures about how much trouble they were going to get in and Newkirk's questions as to whether or not he really realized that McPhee was not like the rest of them Hogan managed to catch a glimpse of the inside of the barracks. His heart pounded in time with the slight shake of McPhee's shoulders. He knew no one would ever believe it, but at the moment he was probably just as scared as the broken woman in the barracks.