Well Done

        He comes through less than three months after Hogan has started operations, cheerful and encouraging. ("Wow, you guys have a neat setup here. Keep up the good work! We'll beat the krauts in the end!") He has nothing but praise for Kinch, pointedly asking him about his home and family and telling him all about his adventures in Detroit. He's the only one in that group of escapees to even acknowledge the black man and it's another three groups of escapees before someone else acknowledges their radio man.
He comes through again about seven months later, this time tired and bruised, but still with that grin on his face. He has news of home – somehow managing to even be able to tell Carter that Mr. Hingles managed to break his leg trying to get his cow out of the ditch and Kinch that his sister is now engaged – and news of the resistance in France. Hogan sends him on his way, a nagging feeling that something about the man is familiar.
When he comes through the third time, dragging a quiet young man – "my brother Mattie, he was captured at Argonne – maybe?" "That was World War One, Alfred." – and a French man he says is vital to the war, Hogan starts to suspect that something about the pilot isn't quite what it seems. For one thing, having someone come through twice is nearly unheard of, but three times?
But it's what he knows, speaking of Bullfrog, North Dakota and Detroit, Michigan like they're his hometowns and Hogan suspects that if he asked, the boy would have stories from Connecticut and Ohio. He knows things that he shouldn't, speaking intimately of the war in the Pacific and how the men are faring (he mentions the battle of Attu and it isn't until nearly two weeks later that Hogan realizes that the battle took place the day before the boy showed up in camp) and just as intimately of the war raging through Northern Africa.
Carter seems to know something they don't, but never mentions it, only retreating into his good ol' boy routine when Hogan or Kinch tries to press him on it.
He returns in December of 1944 with news that the Soviets are moving west, capturing camps and freeing prisoners. By this time, he's tired and wounded, circles under the eyes from lack of sleep (need to stand watch, he says, dismissing any of their concerns. I need to make sure my people are safe.) Carter doesn't tell them until after the pilot is gone that he didn't sleep the whole time he was there, keeping a watch on the grounds. Hogan's not sure what to think about the man and it's not until later that he begins to suspect that he and his men were the ones that the pilot is watching out for.
When the camp is finally liberated, somehow he isn't surprised to see the pilot among the rescuers that grin still on his face even if he disappears once everyone is accounted for.
But it isn't until they're on their way to New York and from there to their homes that Carter gives a mysterious smile when Kinch mentions that he wants to thank the man.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be there. He wouldn't miss something like this." And there's the pilot on the dock when the ship pulls into port, that smile still there and "well done, welcome home" on his lips.