Oberst vs. the Paperwork

By Visage

Greetings and Happy New Year! This is a silly little tag to the episode "Klink vs. the Gonculator" that would NOT leave me alone until it was written down. There aren't really spoilers per say… but it makes a little more sense if you've seen it.

All comments are welcome and appreciated! (of course, usual non-ownership disclaimers apply.) Happy reading!


A huge sigh escaped his throat as his hand reached up to rub his aching eyes. He reached his arms above his head, a small smile of pleasure at the pain as his muscles stretched. Slowly, he brought his arms down to rest on the papers scattered around his desk. He swore his pile must have grown since the morning. If he didn't know any better he would think his office was filled with rabbits.

It was a daunting task, being a high ranking officer in this worldwide conflict. Constant threats of danger and sabotage, the Allied soldiers who thwarted every plan, constantly making a fool of him, it all took a toll on his mental and physical wellbeing. And that wasn't counting the corruption from within. Though he firmly believed the cause was just, as the war waxed on his faith in his Fürher's ability to come through for the Glorious Vaterland and its people was starting to waver. The Colonel quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Even THINKING that could be suicidal.

Running his hand once more through what little was left of his hair, he took in a determined lungful of air. With reluctance, he picked up his trusty, sharpened pencil and once more bent over his desk.

Every form on his desk was a variation of the last. Efficiency reports. Reports about how efficient the efficiency reports were. Reports about how efficient each officer was when they wrote the efficient efficiency reports. The sheer volume of redundant papers on his desk was staggering. One would think that they would figure out multiple copies of the same information wasn't all that… efficient.

There was a hesitant knock on his office door. He couldn't help growling a gruff "come in!" though he didn't take his eyes off of his papers.

"Herr Oberst?" His beautiful secretary carefully opened the door. Her blonde pigtails were hidden by the stack of papers balanced precariously in in her arms. She pushed the door open with her foot before stepping fully into the office. "These just arrived in the mail for you. I think they're more reports for Berlin."

"Are they kidding?" he shouted, throwing his pencil down on the desk. "I haven't even touched the last stack they sent! How could they expect to send another round so soon? Don't they have anything better to do, like fight some Russians or woo a French girl?"

"I'm sorry, Sir." She dropped the heavy load on the corner of his desk with a soft thud. The sad, blue eyes reflected the pity she felt for her Boss and the overwhelming workload he needed to complete. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do to help you?"

He sighed heavily once again, regaining the thin hold on his composure. "No, I'm sorry. It's not your fault and there isn't anything you can do. I just need to work through dinner. Again. For the next three months."

"I'll bring you something to snack on, Herr Oberst. Maybe some hot cocoa? That should make the work go a little faster, ja?"

"Yes, please." He gathered his pencil again. "I would appreciate that."

Colonel Johann Schmidt reached over to the top of the new stack as his secretary closed the door behind her. One again, there was a stack of paperwork which demanded his attention. He let out a strangled growl as he read over the questions, this time asking about his napkin usage. It took everything in him not to snap his pencil in two.

If he ever found the Kommandant of Stalag 13 he would make sure the man would never need a blasted napkin again.