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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32288-8.txt b/32288-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a1037a --- /dev/null +++ b/32288-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5333 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Yankee Flier in Italy, by Rutherford G. Montgomery + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Yankee Flier in Italy + +Author: Rutherford G. Montgomery + +Illustrator: Paul Laune + +Release Date: May 7, 2010 [EBook #32288] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + +[Illustration: "WE'LL TAKE OVER NOW," STAN SNAPPED. + +_A Yankee Flier in Italy_] + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + +BY + +AL AVERY + +_ILLUSTRATED BY_ + +PAUL LAUNE + +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK + + +COPYRIGHT, 1944, BY + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC. + +_All Rights Reserved_ + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + +[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence +that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +_For_ + +AVON KIRKS + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I FAREWELL PARTY 1 + +II SPECIAL TASK 13 + +III REUNION 23 + +IV BEACH-HEAD 38 + +V PRISON SHIP 52 + +VI FIRING SQUAD 75 + +VII REST CURE 90 + +VIII ESCAPE 98 + +IX HOMEWARD BOUND 110 + +X LONE EAGLE 127 + +XI RESCUE 140 + +XII SALERNO 162 + +XIII NIGHT RAID 184 + +XIV NIGHT FLIGHT 200 + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + + + + +CHAPTER I + +FAREWELL PARTY + + +The party was about to break up. It had not been very successful. +Lieutenant O'Malley had devoured only one blueberry pie. This meant he +was feeling far from par. He sat sprawled in a big chair that once had +belonged to a Moslem prince, his skinny legs elevated to the top of the +mess table. + +"Sure, an' you fellows are skunks, beatin' it off to do a soft stretch +in Alexandria," he growled. + +Lieutenant Stan Wilson, United States Army Air Corps, grinned at his +Irish pal. + +"They need brains in Alexandria to tell them what to do." Stan sipped +his coffee and continued to grin. + +March Allison leaned across the table. Allison was British, slight and +neatly dressed. There was always a mocking smile lurking at the corners +of his mouth. + +"I say, old fellow, you should be crowing. You are now a flight +commander and I understand you are to rate nothing less than a major." + +"'Tis not the stripes I want," O'Malley muttered. "Sure, an' I'm told +this Colonel Benson who is to be in command is a spalpeen of the worst +sort. Niver did I care fer brass hats an' now I am to be near one all +the time." + +"I understand Colonel Benson holds to a strict diet, no coffee, tobacco, +or pie," Stan said gravely. "He expects his men to follow his example." + +O'Malley snorted. "Sure, an' I'll be after eatin' pie right off the top +o' his desk." + +"He is said to be the best-dressed officer in the Army." Allison had his +gaze fixed upon O'Malley's sloppy uniform. The shirt was open at the +neck to allow O'Malley's huge Adam's apple to roll up and down, free and +unencumbered. O'Malley's cap was wrinkled and sagging as it attempted to +cover his shock of wild hair. + +"I'm a fightin' man," O'Malley said gravely. "As such I waste no time +on trifles." His big mouth was tightly clamped shut and a frown wrinkled +his homely face. + +Stan and Allison broke out laughing. Colonel Benson would have to take +O'Malley as he was, that they well knew. They had fought side by side +with him in the Battle of Britain, in the Far East, and now in Africa. +O'Malley was known as the wildest pilot in the service and one of the +best. + +"We better get going," Stan said as he rose to his feet. He held out a +hand to O'Malley. "Hold off the invasion of Sicily and Italy until we +get back, pal." + +"I'll be startin' it tomorrow," O'Malley said sourly. + +"Cheerio," Allison added as he shook hands with his pal. + +O'Malley watched them walk out of the mess. He had to admit, as the door +closed after them, that his gloom was due entirely to parting with the +two men he had fought beside for so long. Such things as colonels who +were tough did not bother O'Malley. Having Stan and Allison walk out on +him was the thing that hurt. It was his own fault that he was not going +with them. He had refused to quit the front for a month or so of ease +and rest. + +Gazing out through an open window, he watched a group of natives herd a +flock of donkeys down toward the main part of the city of Bizerte. He +certainly would kick himself if no invasion came off for a month. +Lowering his feet from the top of the table, he strolled out into the +sunshine. Colonel Benson was due to arrive that morning and he had +orders to be on hand, along with other flight commanders, to meet his +superior. O'Malley yawned. Meeting brass hats always bored him. He was +not sure that he was going to like being one of them. O'Malley +considered even a flight commander a brass hat. + +Colonel Benson was late in arriving. He was exactly three hours late and +that made O'Malley exactly two hours late for his dinner. Dinner was a +very important item in O'Malley's day, and he was in a very dour mood +when an orderly called the boys in to meet the new commander. + +The commander's room once had been a lounge and music room. It was part +of a huge old mansion located on an estate. An Italian political boss +had taken it over from a native prince. O'Malley crowded in behind the +first man entering the room. At once the man ahead of O'Malley clicked +his heels and snapped a smart salute. O'Malley looked the colonel over, +then dabbed at the front of his cap with a big hand. + +Colonel Benson was a big, rawboned man, standing six feet two inches and +weighing two hundred and ten pounds. His red face looked as though it +had just been scrubbed with soap and water. It had a pink and white +smoothness under the sunburn which reddened it. The eyes of the colonel +took away the softness of his smooth face. They were green and hard as +agate. At the moment they were looking Lieutenant O'Malley over with a +decidedly unfavorable glint. + +The other boys shoved in and lined up. There was no mistaking the +atmosphere in the room. It fairly vibrated with military correctness. +The colonel's uniform, his carefully parted hair, his smooth, freshly +scraped chin, all added to the feeling of tightness. + +Most of the boys in the room were used to dirt and dust and bearded +faces. They recently had come through a dusty, dirty, and bloody +battle. During those months on the desert they had forgotten all about +military correctness. The colonel's expression plainly indicated that he +thought them a sloppy outfit. He remained standing as he talked, and the +men remained at attention. + +"I have been sent here to teach you men some of the combat tricks +developed recently." His eyes roved over the men and stopped upon +O'Malley. + +"I am not going to insist upon strict military observance, but there are +a few details I will insist upon." The colonel's voice was rising and +his face was getting a bit redder. + +"You." He stabbed a finger toward O'Malley. + +"Lieutenant O'Malley," O'Malley informed him. + +"Lieutenant O'Malley, nothing can excuse the sloppiness of your attire. +In the future you will give more attention to your uniform." + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and grinned. + +The grin made Colonel Benson rise up on his heels. He came down with a +thud, but he said no more. His eyes moved from O'Malley. + +"We will soon be invading Italy." The Colonel paused to let this sink +in. It was exactly what the boys had been expecting, and therefore they +showed no sudden interest. + +"How about Sicily, sor?" O'Malley asked. He had been flying missions all +over the proposed routes and knew something would have to be done about +Sicily. + +"That will be merely a step in taking Italy, Lieutenant," the colonel +explained. He looked about the room. There were plenty of chairs. "You +may be at ease, gentlemen. Seat yourselves and we will proceed with our +conference." + +O'Malley grunted. Dinner hour was long past and here they were settling +down for a conference. He picked the chair nearest the door and slumped +down into it. The colonel seated himself and launched into a lengthy and +detailed talk upon tactics and plans. O'Malley listened for a time, then +stretched out his legs and made himself comfortable. His mind wandered +far from the droning voice of the colonel. + +An hour passed and Colonel Benson was still outlining plans and driving +home things he felt were very important. O'Malley had not exactly been +asleep, but he had failed to hear more than just a small part of what +was said. Suddenly he roused himself. Colonel Benson had just made a +remark that brought him up sharply. + +"Gentlemen, I will now outline the procedure we will follow in handling +the various flights assigned to my sector. This will not take longer +than one hour. Give me your close attention." + +O'Malley looked about as though seeking a way to escape. He saw an +orderly standing at the door. Nodding to the corporal, he leaned forward +and whispered a command. The orderly disappeared. + +Ten minutes later the corporal returned. He was carrying a tin plate +with half of a blueberry pie on it. + +"Thank you, son," O'Malley said as he slid the pie into his lap. He +scooped out a quarter of the pie and opened his mouth. As he bit down +upon the pie he began to grin. He gave his attention to the colonel with +the first real show of interest he had given during the afternoon. The +quarter of pie disappeared quickly. O'Malley slid the remaining quarter +into his hand and opened his mouth. + +"The close co-ordination between our fighter units and the low-level +bombers will be secured by a system of code signals." Colonel Benson's +voice snapped off suddenly. His green eyes were on O'Malley and sparks +flashed in their depths. The other boys turned and looked at O'Malley. + +"You are hungry, Lieutenant O'Malley?" Colonel Benson asked coldly. + +"Yes, sor. 'Tis three hours an' more past dinnertime," O'Malley answered +calmly as he shoved half of the pie into his mouth. + +"Stop! Stop--swilling that pie!" the colonel roared. + +O'Malley got rid of the pie in a simple manner. He shoved what was left +into his mouth and munched upon it. + +For a full minute the colonel could not think of anything to say. But +his face got deeper red and his eyes blazed. Finally he rapped on his +desk and said: + +"Gentlemen, I will not tolerate eating during a conference. Any sort of +eating. I will not tolerate eating pie while I am giving instructions. +Lieutenant O'Malley, you will retire. I will consider your case later." + +O'Malley got to his feet. He handed the pie plate to the embarrassed +corporal. "Thank you, sor," he drawled as he made off. + +The colonel snorted and went back to his lecture. O'Malley headed for +the mess hall. The half pie had whetted his appetite. Locating a +comfortable place near a window he ordered a big dinner, with a whole +blueberry pie for dessert. In a leisurely manner he began devouring his +meal. + +He had spent most of an hour enjoying his dinner and was ready to eat +his pie, when the fliers began drifting in from the conference. Several +of them headed toward O'Malley's table. O'Malley was the most famous +pilot in their outfit. The stories about him amounted almost to legend. +The boys admired his disregard for military usage. All of them had been +working according to the colonel's carefully explained plans for months +and knew them better than the colonel did. They had been bored by the +long session but had not had the nerve to show their feelings. + +But none of them reached O'Malley. Colonel Benson came in and strode +over to O'Malley's table. + +Nodding to O'Malley, he said, "Mind if I join you?" His voice did not +sound so stiff outside his office. + +"Sure, an' I'm glad to have you," O'Malley said, but there was a gleam +of suspicion in his eye. + +Colonel Benson seated himself. He watched O'Malley attack the pie. His +interest amounted to fascination and he did not speak until O'Malley had +finished three fourths of the pie. He ordered coffee and leaned back. + +"I have heard a great deal about you, Lieutenant," he began. + +O'Malley did not think this remark called for an answer, so he went on +eating his pie. + +"I know you are an excellent pilot, though I understand you are a bit +reckless." There was a gleam that might have been humor in the colonel's +eye. + +O'Malley leaned back. He pushed the pie plate away from him and uttered +a contented sigh. + +"However, I'm afraid you are not the type of man I want working beside +me. With your permission, I will find you another assignment." The +colonel watched O'Malley as he spoke. + +"What sort o' work?" O'Malley asked. + +"Flying a fighter plane, of course." Colonel Benson smiled. + +"'Twill suit me foine," O'Malley said. "I'm not likin' the idea o' bein' +a brass hat." + +"I don't think you would make a very good one," the colonel said. "There +will be no further mention of your pie-eating exhibition of this +afternoon. You will report to operations for your new assignment." + +"Thank you, sor." + +The colonel drank his coffee and arose. O'Malley got to his feet and +managed a snappy salute. The colonel moved off and the boys closed in to +find out what had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SPECIAL TASK + + +The sympathy of the boys in the officers' mess was wasted upon O'Malley. +He was not impressed by the advanced rating he had missed, nor was he +jealous of the new and shining bars and oak leaves his pals were +wearing. He had checked in and been assigned flight leader of a flight +of three planes whose task was special work. All that interested +O'Malley was that he was due to head out over the Mediterranean Sea with +the nose of his Lightning pointed toward Italy. + +"Sure, an' I'll have Benito captured by the time you birds go into +action," he told the gang. + +O'Malley's exact duties were not very clear, nor was his crew a reality. +No men had been assigned to him and he had no flight orders, but he had +the assurance of the captain at operations that he would be on his way +in a short time. If O'Malley had any suspicions as to the sort of work +Colonel Benson had laid out for him, he did not show them. He was in +exceptional good humor. + +When he was called in by Captain Marks at headquarters, he dashed to the +operations room as fast as he could. The captain smiled as O'Malley +sprawled into a chair. + +"I understand we are about to start an invasion of Italy," the captain +began. "The details are a military secret, but it's coming and right +away. There's some spade work to be done and you are to handle a hot +assignment." + +O'Malley's big mouth spread in an eager grin. + +"The commander has assigned you to this job because he feels you are +specially fitted for the work." The captain beamed, but there was a look +in his eye that made O'Malley sit up and wipe the grin off his face. + +"And what may it be?" he demanded. + +"You are to ferry Lightnings to Malta." The captain lifted a hand as +O'Malley came out of his chair like a cork out of a bottle of Algerian +wine. "This is dangerous business. You may have to fight your way +through. This will be day flying." + +O'Malley snorted. "Fight! Sure, an' ferryin' to Malta is no work for a +fighter pilot. 'Tis a job for these new colleens you got in the ferry +service." + +"Colonel's orders," the captain said curtly. "And the planes are to be +landed in Malta in fighting trim. As soon as I round up a couple of men +to work with you, I'll give you a call. Get set, because I'll need you +any hour now." + +O'Malley leaned forward and there was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Did you +say fight our way through?" he asked. + +"If necessary, but I understand you are a stunting fool. You shouldn't +have to fire a shot on any trip. The planes are not to be shot up. They +are for combat use in the invasion." + +O'Malley was on his feet. "Foine," he said sweetly. "'Tis a nice job, +sor, an' I'm appreciatin' it." + +The captain fixed him with a suspicious eye. This ferry job had been +tough to fill. It was vitally important and demanded experienced fighter +pilots, but none of the men wanted it. Captain Marks had not been able +to get a single man to accept the job. He was relieved when the colonel +had sent over word that O'Malley would serve as flight leader. But he +still had to locate two men to work with the Irishman. O'Malley was +taking the whole thing too nicely. Captain Marks was worried. He knew +O'Malley's reputation and he had picked up a few hints of how O'Malley +had been assigned to the job. + +"I'll give you the names of your crew as soon as I get them lined up," +the captain said gruffly. + +"Shanghaied you mean," O'Malley said in a honeyed tone. + +"The colonel will locate a couple for me," the captain answered with a +grin. + +O'Malley grinned back at him. "I know a couple I wish you could get hold +of," he said. He turned around and walked out of the office. + +For a full five minutes O'Malley stood outside the office looking out +toward the blue Mediterranean. There was a deep scowl on his face. +Finally he sauntered into the mess and seated himself near a window. +Elevating his feet, he closed his eyes and took a nap. + +He was awakened by an orderly. The soldier saluted smartly and said: + +"You are wanted at operations, sir." + +O'Malley got to his feet and walked into the briefing shack, which was +a shed hastily erected outside the mess. Captain Marks was waiting for +him. He shoved a sheaf of flight orders at O'Malley. + +"You are to deliver three Lightning fighters to Malta. In case you meet +enemy planes, you are to take proper evasive measures. Is that clear?" + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and added, "If we be attacked we fight?" + +"Certainly, we don't want these new planes shot down." + +Glancing at his flight orders, O'Malley moved leisurely out to the +flight strip designated. Three Lightnings stood there with their props +spinning. A ground crew was just leaving them. O'Malley nodded toward +the chief mechanic who swung down out of the cockpit. + +"Is this bag o' bolts ready to fly?" he asked with a grin. + +"She's clicking fine, sir," the sergeant answered. + +O'Malley glanced at his orders. The two men under him were Ted Wilks and +Pete Liske. He wondered what they had done to call down the colonel's +displeasure. Swinging up into the greenhouse, he palmed the hatch cover +and got set. + +"Wilks and Liske," he called lazily. "This is your skipper, Mrs. +O'Malley's son. Get your crates hot." + +"Temperatures check," Liske called back. His voice sounded sour. + +"Which one of the Auld Man's corns did you step on, Liske?" O'Malley +asked. + +"Same one I did," Wilks called in. + +"Can the chatter and get going," snapped a voice from operations. +"Lieutenant O'Malley, report out at once," another voice cut in. + +"Up to five thousand and then tuck in close to me," O'Malley ordered. + +"Read your flight sheets!" The voice from operations was sharp and +snappy. + +O'Malley laughed. "Shove off, me hearties," he called. + +Wilks went zooming off and Liske followed closely. O'Malley watched +their take-off with a critical eye. He saw at once that he had been +given two fledglings to nurse safely through. Like an old hen, he was +expected to see them through by proper evasive tactics. O'Malley began +whistling a bit of an Irish tune. He'd protect those kids, just let any +Italian or German fighter show up. + +Kicking down on one brake, he spun the Lightning around and sent her +zooming off the field, hanging her on her prop at once, and surging over +the hatch covers of his charges like a crazy angel heading for the sun. +His boys dropped in behind him and soon had snuggled in, wing to wing, +one on each side. + +"So you birds were bad boys," O'Malley called across to his men. + +"So what? We hear you were supposed to be a major," Liske answered +insolently. + +"We didn't read the rule book careful," Wilks confessed with a laugh. + +"From now on you won't be after needin' a rule book," O'Malley assured +them. He was scanning the blue sky eagerly. A pile of clouds, off to the +east, looked promising. He swung over that way. If there was a Jerry in +the whole area, he'd be hiding up in that cloud. + +The three Lightnings zoomed low under the cloud but nothing happened. +The sky was as serene and calm as the sky over a Kansas wheat field or a +kirk in Kerry County, Ireland. O'Malley scowled and eased back against +the shock pad. + +They roared over Pantelleria Island which had been occupied by the +British and Yanks. Sicily lay ahead and O'Malley knew evasive tactics +called for a wide sweep to the east and south. He had already flown +miles north in his hopeful quest of trouble. Easing down to two thousand +feet, they swept around in a circle that carried them within sight of +the coast of Sicily. But there was no enemy craft in sight in the air +and very few on the water along the coast. With a sigh O'Malley +straightened their course and headed in to Malta. They had flown a half +circle deep into enemy territory but nothing exciting had happened. +O'Malley was beginning to worry. If all of their ferry flights were +going to be like this, he would have to do something about it. + +Picking up the radio signals from the Malta field, they slid in, spotted +the Yank landing strip, and set down. Ground crews rushed out to take +over. They swarmed around the Lightnings and had them moving off almost +before their pilots were out of the cockpits. O'Malley scowled. The +boys had no more respect for a ferry pilot than they did an M.P. + +O'Malley obtained his release and acceptance of the planes from a +captain who rode out in a motorcycle. The captain seemed irritated. + +"Your flight time is double what it should be. Get over to Number Three +Field and get your transportation back to Africa." + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said. "We drifted a bit off course." + +The captain looked at him sharply. He was very busy and delays did not +improve his ragged temper. + +"Don't let it happen again," he snapped. + +O'Malley smiled at his two fliers. "Sure, an' 'tis very ungrateful some +people are. We risk our necks to deliver these crates an' get a sour +welcome." He turned and walked away. The captain stood staring after +him. He had not met a man like O'Malley before. Usually ferry pilots +were not given to back talk. + +The transport was waiting. O'Malley and his pals climbed in among an +assortment of equipment and supplies being returned to base. In a short +time they were back at their own briefing room. Three planes were ready +and they took off again. + +All day they ferried Lightnings across to Malta and not once did they +sight enemy craft. O'Malley was wild when they checked in for the +evening. He glared at the grinning Captain Marks. + +"Sure, an' something better bust loose tomorrow," he cried. + +"Probably will," Marks answered. + +O'Malley stomped away to quarters. Wilks and Liske dashed off to put in +for an immediate transfer to more active duty. O'Malley hoped they got +the transfer. He knew there was not much chance of him getting shifted, +not as long as Colonel Benson was in command. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +REUNION + + +Stan and Allison sat in the big Lockheed transport and looked down upon +the shores of Africa. A coastal road wound along the beach. It was +war-scarred and still littered with broken tanks and shattered trucks. +This was the route Rommel had taken in his flight across Libya. + +"Wonder what O'Malley's doing about this time?" Stan asked. He was +beginning to be sorry he had accepted the offer to return to Alexandria. +O'Malley likely was leading a flight over the shores of Italy. + +"I'll bet he is seeing action," Allison said. "But I'm satisfied to be +riding in peace with a pip of a vacation ahead. You're not beginning to +get the bug to fight so soon, old man?" + +"No," Stan answered with a grin. "I aim to have a swell time and be +ready for the big push into Europe." + +The trained ears of the two pilots caught a warning signal from one of +the plane's radial motors. The motor complained for a few minutes, then +coughed and conked out completely. + +"Looks like we might be due for a forced landing," Stan said. + +"That would be our luck," Allison answered. "Where are we, anyway?" + +"We must be near Bengazi." Stan peered down at the coast line. + +A few minutes later their fears were realized. The transport began +circling for a landing. They sighted the ruins of a town and were soon +over it. Ten minutes later they were standing on a sand dune along with +the pilot and copilot. A group of higher-ranking officers, including a +general, stood a little way from them. + +"We'll not be here very long," the pilot said, jerking his head toward +his other passengers. "Not with the big boy along. He's on an urgent +mission. We've already radioed for a pick-up plane." + +"He's hurrying in the wrong direction," Allison said. + +Stan walked away and down the slope a bit. One of the Navy's NATS +amphibian freight planes was down at the dock. Stan had learned to +respect the Navy Air Transport Service. Those boys flew freight and mail +from the United States to every part of the world where the Yanks were +fighting, and they flew it on schedule. This plane probably was headed +back to Tunis or Bizerte. + +He passed the high officers at some little distance. The wind was +blowing away from them and he caught the irritated voice of the general. + +"With this delay I'll have to go back. Action against Italy starts at +dawn tomorrow." The wind whipped away the general's words and Stan did +not hear any more, but what he had heard made him halt. + +Invasion. The boys were going in for the kill and he was heading for a +rest in Alexandria. Turning, he walked up the hill. Allison was chatting +with the pilot. Stan motioned to him and they strolled down the slope. +When they were out of hearing of the crew, Stan said: + +"I just overheard something." + +Allison gave him a quick look. "Been eavesdropping?" + +"An ill wind brought me a word from that general. We're hitting it back +to Bizerte." + +"I say, old chap, you know I'm going where I can have two hot baths a +day. I'll have a barber shave me and I'll have breakfast served in bed. +You run along back to Bizerte, but I'm going on to Alexandria." + +"The attack on Italy is set for tomorrow morning. The general is going +back and I'm going with him. O'Malley isn't going to hog this show." + +Allison halted and stared at Stan. Suddenly his twisted smile pulled at +the corners of his mouth. "If you put it that way, I guess I'm going +back to Bizerte, too." + +"The general has radioed for a plane to take him back. This delay has +upset his schedule and he won't go on. We'll go back with him. Let's +collar the old boy." + +"We are under orders to report to Alexandria," Allison reminded him. + +"The general doesn't know what our orders are. We can worry about little +things like that after we get back," Stan said impatiently. + +They walked across the slope to where the general was standing. There +were four officers with him, three colonels and a major. + +"Could we have a word with you, sir?" Stan asked as he snapped a +salute. + +"Certainly," General Miller said. + +"We have decided to return to Bizerte and wondered if you could say a +word for us if a westbound plane stops here. This delay will upset our +plans and we might as well go back." + +The general looked at Stan sharply. "What made you change your plans, +besides this accident?" + +Stan grinned. He did not dare admit that he had overheard the general +talking. + +"The farther we get from the base of action, the more jittery we get," +he replied. + +"You fellows have to be ordered to take leave," General Miller said and +smiled. "Do your orders allow you such freedom of action?" + +"We feel that they do," Stan said. + +"I'm sorry I can't take you. I'm afraid I'd be called to account for +helping you disobey orders." The general's smile had spread into a grin. +"You will go on as you should." + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. They both saluted and walked away. + +"Guess we're sunk," Allison said sourly. "O'Malley will certainly rub it +in when he sees us again. He'll be right in the middle of the big +fight." + +Stan was looking at the NATS amphibian and smiling. "We might be able to +thumb a ride with the Navy." + +Allison looked down toward the sea. The Navy boys were getting the big +freighter set to take off. + +"Worth a try, let's go down there." + +They hurried down to the beach. An ensign was handling the shifting of +supplies from the flying boat to a truck. He greeted Stan and Allison in +a friendly manner after glancing at their service stripes. + +"You boys are a bit off your reservation, aren't you?" he asked. + +"We sure are and we want to get back. How about a ride to Bizerte?" + +"We're not hauling passengers, but if you piled in nobody would throw +you off. We're supposed to cooperate with the Army in every way we can." +The ensign laughed. + +"Great stuff," Allison said. "I'm March Allison and he's Stan Wilson." + +"I'm Bert Thomas," the ensign said. "If you have bags you better get +them aboard. We're about to shove off." + +"We're not taking any bags back," Stan said hurriedly. He did not want +to risk having the general order them to go on into Alexandria. In fact, +he did not want the general to know they were going out with the +amphibian. + +"O.K. Just get aboard and find a place to sit down." + +Stan and Allison climbed aboard the freighter. The crew paid no +attention to them but went on lashing cargo into place, cramming all +sorts of odd repair parts into every corner. + +Ensign Thomas came aboard and took his place beside his copilot. Stan +and Allison sat on the only two vacant seats along the arching ribs of +the ship. They were careful not to take the space reserved for the crew. + +The freighter slid out into the bay and soon she was slapping the step +of the lazy waves. A few seconds later she lifted and was off, rising +slowly, roaring along like a gorged pelican. She did not have a machine +gun or a cannon aboard and she was going it alone. The two fighter +pilots, used to a bank of Brownings in front of them, felt uneasy. If a +Heinkel or an Me 110 showed up, the old girl would be a dead duck. + +No enemy planes showed up, however, and the freighter bored along. +Ahead of them the sun was settling down into the sea, filling the air +with golden haze and making the water glow like sapphire. Just at sunset +the freighter swung inshore and eased down over the harbor at Bizerte. +Two fighter planes from a carrier lying offshore zoomed around her as +she came in. She hit the water and glided in to a mooring. + +"Passengers ashore!" Bert Thomas called back. + +As they piled out Stan and Allison saluted the skipper. "Thanks a +million," Stan said. + +"Right fine of you, old man," Allison chimed in. + +"Glad to give you a hand," Thomas said as he turned to the job of +unloading. + +Stan and Allison shoved through the crowds along the docks. They were +eager to get in touch with Colonel Benson and get back on the job. +Everywhere they could see signs of the coming invasion attempt. +Thousands of ships and barges and warcraft lay in the harbor or +offshore. Men swarmed everywhere, while tanks and trucks and mobile guns +rattled down to the water front. + +The boys caught a ride with an air force truck headed toward their +field. The truck took them to within a few blocks of headquarters. When +they hopped out, Stan said: + +"Here goes nothing. Wonder what the Old Man will say?" + +"We'll be lucky to be able to see him at all. He'll be very busy," +Allison drawled. + +Reaching headquarters they spoke to an orderly. The soldier regarded +them closely. + +"Yes, Colonel Benson is in his office." + +"Tell him Lieutenants Wilson and Allison wish to see him." Stan gave the +soldier a look that made him snap to attention. + +"I'll report, sir," he said and made off. + +"He acted as though we were not welcome," Allison remarked. + +"The Old Man probably told him to shoo all pilots away," Stan said. "Now +we better make our story good." + +The orderly returned and nodded toward the fliers. "Colonel Benson will +see you, sir," he said to Stan. + +They moved into the room and found Colonel Benson sitting behind his +desk. He had a pot of coffee, a bowl of soup, and a plate of sandwiches +before him. His green eyes lifted and swept over the two officers. They +saluted and Stan said: + +"Lieutenants Wilson and Allison reporting for duty, sir." + +The colonel dipped up a spoon of soup and ate it. He selected a +sandwich, lifted the lid and looked at the filling, then took a bite. + +"I believe you gentlemen are under orders to report to Alexandria. I +take it you have made some changes on your own account." The colonel +paused and waited for a reply. His face was expressionless, but his eyes +bored into Stan and Allison. + +"We hoped you would allow us to join Lieutenant O'Malley's command. We +got the idea there might be action on this front soon." Stan stood very +straight and looked the colonel in the eye. + +"What gave you the idea there would be action?" the colonel asked. + +"We got it quite by accident," Stan answered. + +"I see. So you canceled the orders of the area commander and returned. +Who brought you back?" + +"The Navy, sir." Allison smiled as he said it. + +The colonel grunted. He finished his sandwich and helped himself to more +soup. Finally he spoke. + +"There will be action very soon and we do need pilots," he said blandly. +His eyes dropped to a pad of reports. They were urgent requests from +Wilks and Liske asking to be transferred from O'Malley's ferry flight. +"I have two places I find very difficult to fill, and they happen to be +in Commander O'Malley's flight. I'll assign you men to those places." +His eyes lifted and there was a glint of hardness in them. "For the +duration of the present action," he added grimly. + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "We will not take up more of your time." + +"One more thing," the colonel said. "I will cancel your leave to +Alexandria. But your new assignment will not free you from any measures +I decide to take later as punishment for your breach of orders. Is that +clear?" + +"Yes, sir," both officers answered. They saluted and about-faced. + +Outside the door Stan turned to Allison. "The Old Boy isn't such a tough +cookie after all." + +"Don't be so sure about that. You know I had a hunch he was spoofing us +all the time." Allison scowled. "I'm sure he was." + +"You smelled a mouse?" Stan grinned. + +"I smelled a very dead one," Allison answered. "Let's locate O'Malley. +He should be over in the quarters reserved for flight commanders." + +They barged into the quarters of the flight officers and looked around. +O'Malley was not present but several men sat at a table playing chess. +They moved over and stood beside the table. + +"We're looking for Commander O'Malley," Stan said. + +One of the boys looked up. He was wearing new and shiny insignia of a +major. He grinned up at Stan and Allison, his eyes taking in their +service stripes. + +"I guess you mean Flight Leader O'Malley," he said. "You should be able +to find him over at Mess Three." + +"So, he's already gotten himself shifted to flight leader," Stan said, +matching the major's grin. "How'd he manage it?" + +"By eating a pie while Colonel Benson was delivering a lecture on how to +capture Italy," the major chuckled. + +"So he's back on the firing line. I say, that's just where he wanted to +be," Allison said. + +"No, he didn't rate that well," the major explained. "The Old Man +chucked him into a job of ferrying planes to Malta so we'd have some +reserves in close to Sicily. Less than an hour ago O'Malley told me it +was a quiet and peaceful job, but one he didn't like." + +Stan looked at Allison. "You were right, there was a mouse, a big, dead +one." He nodded to the major. "Thanks, Major," he said. + +They turned away and walked out of the room. Allison laid a hand on +Stan's arm as they turned toward the door of Mess Three. + +"Suppose we surprise O'Malley," he suggested. + +"He'll be in no mood for surprises," Stan answered. "He'll be a wild +man. With the whole Army and Navy getting set to force a beach-head and +him on ferry duty, he'll be red-hot." + +"We are to fill in on his flight. We might work it so that he wouldn't +know until we take off. We could be a bit late in showing up." There was +a twinkle in Allison's eyes. + +Stan began to grin. "I like the idea," he said. "We're stuck the same as +he is and might as well cheer him up." + +They went to the operations room and located Captain Marks who regarded +them with unbelieving eyes. + +"You mean to say you gave up a vacation trip to Alexandria to take this +ferry job with that wild Irishman, O'Malley?" + +"Sure," Stan said with a grin. "We like ferrying. It's the sort of life +for any ambitious officer." + +Captain Marks regarded them intently. "I have your assignments here, but +I haven't seen anything of O'Malley." + +"Suppose you shove them at him the last thing before the flight takes +off. We'd like to surprise him, having been a pal of his for a long +time." + +The captain grinned. "It will be a surprise," he said. "I know about you +three and I'm looking for trouble. O'Malley never looks at assignment +or flight orders. And there will be only the three of you." His grin +faded and he scowled at the two pilots. "We'll only lose three ships and +I guess we can afford that." + +"Thanks, Captain," Stan said. "Mum's the word. We'll see you before dawn +tomorrow morning." + +They moved out and did not go to Mess Three. They headed out to locate a +spot where they could hide out until flight time. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +BEACH-HEAD + + +O'Malley grabbed his flight orders. He scowled at Captain Marks. For +once the captain did not insist that he read his orders. O'Malley turned +upon his heel and strode out of the briefing room. He was met in the +darkness outside the office by an officer. + +"You will fly a course over Tunis and approach Malta from due south, +Lieutenant. Colonel Benson's orders. You are to make as many flights as +possible today. There will be heavy action in the straits and you are to +avoid that area." The officer saluted and moved on into the briefing +room. + +"Sure, an' I'll do me own settin' o' the course," O'Malley bellowed. + +He was met at his plane by his master mechanic. "You have two new men +today, sir. I have given them a few details of your course." + +"An' I'll be givin' them some more," O'Malley growled as he climbed +into the cockpit. + +He settled down and listened for a few minutes to the excited orders +jamming the air. Flights were heading out, bomber squadrons were calling +in or taking orders. O'Malley set his phones on the beam and bent +forward. + +"Get ready, you birds of Ferry Flight," he called in. + +"All set," came back a reply in muffled tones. + +O'Malley wondered who the unlucky fliers were. Some poor saps who had +gotten in bad with Benson, he guessed. He bent down and shouted to the +sergeant. + +"How much ammunition have we?" + +"From now on the ferry ships will be fully loaded. You may run into +trouble, sir." + +O'Malley pulled in his head and kicked on the power. He snapped a +release to his mates and waited for them to get off. He had not taken +the trouble to get their names, so he could not order them off one at a +time. They did not seem to need any instruction. One Lightning wheeled +around and roared away, followed closely by the other. O'Malley grunted +his approval. The two relief men could fly. + +Opening up his engines, O'Malley roared after his flight. He tried to +cut across above them but had all he could do to catch up with them. In +the gray dawn he saw that the two new men understood how to get speed +out of a Lockheed P-38. Finally his two men eased over and let him slide +in between them. They closed in, snuggling dangerously close. + +"I'd thank ye for a bit more air," O'Malley growled. + +"Are we crowding you, Commander?" a high-pitched voice asked. + +"'Tis not crowdin' me, but I don't trust yer flyin' ability," O'Malley +shot back. + +"You're a bit off course," an unusually gruff voice broke in. + +"Sure, an' I'm flyin' this outfit," O'Malley snapped. + +They were swinging east by north, which headed them for Sicily. O'Malley +scanned the skies as light began to break. Below him the strait was +alive with barges and transports. A British monitor wallowed on its way, +rolling and plunging. Flight after flight of medium bombers fanned out +at low level. High above, the fighter patrols were roaring toward +Sicily. O'Malley scowled as he scanned the scene hopefully. Not a +German or an Italian plane in sight. It appeared that the best O'Malley +would get for setting his own course was a good view of the invasion +fleet and the opening wedge of the air forces. + +Suddenly the shores of Sicily appeared below, and almost at once +O'Malley was jerked out of his sour mood by a shout from one of his +pilots. + +"Me 110's coming down at four o'clock!" + +"Protect yerselves!" O'Malley shouted eagerly. "Run fer it!" + +"Shall we follow your example?" came in a mocking voice. + +O'Malley started and his mouth popped open. He knew that voice! Then in +came the voice of his other pilot. + +"We'll do as you do, Commander. Lead on!" + +"You spalpeens!" O'Malley bellowed. Then he broke out in a loud laugh. +"Sure, an' the Auld Man made monkeys out of you two." + +There was no more time for happy reunion. Seven Messerschmitts were +coming down after the bombers. They were not interested in the three +Lightnings and hoped that the Yanks flying them had not noticed any +Jerries near by. In this they were very much disappointed. + +Stan peeled off and banked steeply. Laying over he rolled into position +and cut out an Me. As the Jerry flashed past his sights, he opened up +and his Brownings sawed a wing off the fighter. He was over and the +Jerry was gone before he was able to see what had happened to the enemy +ship. As he came up he saw that O'Malley was celebrating. He was doing +mad loops and dives that threatened to drive the six Me's out of the sky +before Allison could tangle with one of them. Allison's voice came in, +crisp and exasperated. + +"I say, you Irisher. Lay off and let me have a chance!" + +"Come on in!" O'Malley yelled back and he stalled and dived after an Me. + +The three ferry pilots were finishing off the Jerries when a flight of +six Lightnings and three Airacobras slid down from upstairs and joined +in. There was only one luckless Me left. Three had been shot down and +two had fled. The outnumbered Jerry dived and headed for home. + +Allison and Stan closed in beside O'Malley. Their leader called over to +them. + +"There's a big fight on down there on that beach. Looks like the boys +needed some help to keep the Stukas away." + +"We're under your orders, Commander," Stan answered. + +"Sure, an' you birds stand trial right alongside o' me when we get +back," O'Malley shouted back. He dived and his pals went with him. + +Down they went over the invasion beach-head where sky battles raged as +German and Italian fighter bombers tried to strafe or bomb Yank and +British landing craft. + +Stan leaned over and looked down. The scene below was a stirring one. +Three battlewagons of the cruiser class lay offshore. In closer, a line +of destroyers was blazing fire and smoke as they blasted the shore +batteries of the enemy. A group of torpedo boats darted in and out, +tormenting an enemy ship. Toward the shore and moving from four big +transports came the landing barges: the personnel barges, the tank +carriers, the mechanized armament barges. In swarms they were pouring +toward the shore. In the air above, Yank and R.A.F. fighter pilots +struggled to keep the dive bombers and the torpedo planes from getting +at the ships. This was the zero hour for the boys in the barges. Either +they established a beach-head or they failed at terrible cost. + +Stan forgot that he was supposed to be a ferry pilot. He spotted a Stuka +slipping in behind a screen of smoke rising from a burning freighter. +Nosing down, he went after the Stuka. He caught a flash of O'Malley and +Allison going in, too. They were needed, there was no doubt about that. +The German planes were getting through. + +Coming down on the bandit, Stan eased over a bit and flattened out to +come in on the bomber's tail. The Stuka was sloping down toward one of +the transport ships. Stan kicked his throttle on full and raised his +nose until he had the bandit in his sights. His thumb pressed the gun +button and he felt the terrific kick-back from his bank of guns. He saw +the tail and a large part of the rear compartment of the Stuka wobble +and then sheer away. Whirling crazily, smoke billowing up from its torn +body, the Stuka went down, landing with a splash close alongside the +transport. Stan went over the deck of the ship so low, he could see the +grateful Navy boys waving at him. + +Swinging inshore, Stan knifed after a Focke-Wulf 190 which was strafing +the barges. He sent the 190 kiting along the tops of the waves and away +inland. Stan was hot on the tail of the Focke-Wulf. He was sure he would +get in a burst, when suddenly a burst of flak from a ground battery +enveloped him. He felt the steel ripping through his wings. One motor +began to stutter badly. It was then that Stan remembered he was supposed +to deliver his plane to Malta in good condition. + +Easing around, he climbed upward at a slow rate. He was looking for +O'Malley and Allison. He spotted O'Malley by the crazy manner of his +attack against an Me 110 which had closed in upon him. Stan grinned in +spite of the seriousness of their predicament. Half the tail had been +shot off O'Malley's Lightning. She was not handling very well. The Me +had a big edge. Stan went up as fast as his one crippled motor would +take him. + +The Me pitted against O'Malley had the Irishman in a spot. He had +doubled inside O'Malley's loop and was now on his tail. Stan tried hard +to power dive but got only feeble results. He waited grimly, expecting +O'Malley to go down under a hail of Nazi lead. But O'Malley did not go +down. Another Lightning came roaring down and cut the Me almost in half. +Allison had been looking for O'Malley, too. + +"How about hitting it for Malta, Commander?" Stan called. + +"I say, old man, we better be getting out of here. The boys have +everything under control in this sector," Allison added. + +"Sure, an' we're headed for home, tuck in close an' follow me," O'Malley +called cheerfully. + +"We better cook up a good report," Stan said grimly. + +"Sure, an' we got waylaid. 'Tis something could happen to anyone flying +ferry planes," O'Malley answered. "Wasn't that the way it happened?" + +"That is a bit of the truth, you know," Allison agreed. + +"I don't know how I'll explain the flak holes I picked up. No Jerry or +Italian plane ever carried five-inch guns," Stan answered. + +"We met a enemy battleship," O'Malley said, unconcerned. + +Stan snorted. "The Italian Navy hasn't poked its nose out of a home +base in over a year. We were supposed to be flying in close to Allied +shores." + +"Sure, an' you're right," O'Malley answered cheerfully. "But I'll be +thinkin' o' something, niver fear." + +Stan looked down and then up. They had plunged into very soupy weather +with low clouds and some wind. His ship was not taking it very well. +Then it began to rain. + +"You better be thinking of getting us in, one of my engines is about to +conk out on me," he called across. + +"I'm doing foine," O'Malley said. "Hear them signals coming in? That's +the boys on Malta giving us the old signal. We'll ride right in." + +They changed course, heading north. Stan began to frown. It did not seem +right to be heading in that direction. Suddenly they sighted a field +through the rain. O'Malley dived for the field and Stan followed with +Allison close behind. They hit the runway in a drenching rain and rolled +in wing to wing. + +Suddenly they were confronted by four trucks. The trucks rolled out and +halted across their paths, pulling in close before them so that the +Lightnings could not turn around. Stan stared at the trucks. They +certainly were not Yank or British. Then he saw squads of grinning +Italian soldiers poking machine guns over the sides of the trucks. +Ground men began swarming out. Everyone was smiling. + +"You sure let them call you in," Stan shouted to O'Malley. + +"'Twas a dirty trick, them using our signals to call us in here," +O'Malley fumed. + +"Malta is just across the strait, I'll bet," Allison said. "I've heard +that the Italians use this trick, but I never thought they'd fool the +Irish." There was a mocking note in Allison's voice. "We may as well +climb down like good little boys. They have us covered with a hundred +machine guns." + +"I'm getting out very carefully," Stan said. O'Malley said nothing at +all, but he climbed out and joined Stan and Allison. + +A group of Italian officers crowded around them. All were smiling and +bowing as though welcoming the Yanks. O'Malley scowled at them, but Stan +grinned back and Allison lifted a hand. + +One of the Italian officers stepped forward. He spoke good English. + +"You are prisoners of war, gentlemen. Come with us." He waved a hand +toward the dim outline of a building. + +The three Yanks were willing to move in out of the rain. They were +drenched to the skin. Before they had reached the place where they were +to be questioned the rain had ceased falling, and the sun had burst +through the clouds. O'Malley was completely disgusted. + +"Sure, an' I calls that a dirty trick. The weather is against us as well +as iverything else." + +"Please be seated," the Italian officer said as they entered a large +room. + +The three Yanks sat down and waited gloomily. Three high-ranking Italian +officers entered. They spoke swiftly in their native tongue to the +officer who had escorted the boys to the room. Their words were excited +and they made many motions with their hands. O'Malley stared at them +sourly. Finally the junior officer turned to the boys. + +"General Bolero wishes to ask you some questions." + +The general smiled as he put the questions. "We wish to know how many +planes and how many ships you are using. Also we wish to know at what +places your forces plan to land." + +Stan spoke up. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide. + +"No one can answer those questions but our high command. We are only +ferry pilots as you will see if you examine the flight orders of our +leader." He nodded toward O'Malley. + +The general turned and spoke quickly to the other officers in Italian. +They looked at O'Malley and talked some more, then the general turned to +O'Malley. Before he could speak, O'Malley cut in: + +"What I want to know is who's responsible for the trick that was pulled +on us?" + +The general smiled and his medal-covered chest expanded at O'Malley's +question. + +"I am honored that you appreciate my clever trick," he said affably. + +O'Malley scowled at the general. "'Tis a foul trick," he said. "I have +been insulted an' I'll get even with you." + +Stan broke in to avoid O'Malley's getting into real action against the +general. + +"What are you going to do with us?" + +"You will be flown to one of our prison camps on the mainland. You will +be treated strictly according to International Law," the general +answered. + +"How soon?" Stan asked. He was thinking the paratroopers might take over +this airfield very soon. He knew they would be hitting the coastal +fields in order to give the boys spots to work from that were closer to +Italy than the African coast. + +"At once, at once," the general said and he seemed suddenly nervous. + +"We are in no hurry, old man," Allison said and grinned. + +"Ah, but we are in a very great hurry," put in the junior officer. +"General Bolero is leaving at once. You will be flown out in, say, +twenty minutes. I am so sorry there will be no time for dry clothes." He +bowed and nodded to four soldiers armed with rifles who had appeared +through a side door. "You will go with the guards." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +PRISON SHIP + + +The three Yanks were rushed out upon the parade ground at the Italian +base. Two squads of shouting Italian soldiers escorted them. They burst +upon a scene of confusion and excitement. Stan looked across the grounds +toward the runways. Suddenly he burst out laughing and poked Allison in +the ribs. + +"Look! His Nibs is deserting us!" + +General Bolero was leading his staff toward a parked plane. For a big +fat man he was making fast time. His cape floated out behind him and he +had lost his jaunty cap. His officers were loaded down with brief cases, +files, and bundles of papers. The general was a full ten paces ahead of +them. + +"I'd call that a rout," Allison shouted. + +"I think our outfits must be closing in. We'll have to do some +stalling," Stan shouted. + +O'Malley was already stalling. Four men were pushing him along, and he +was beginning to show signs of temper. Stan tried to get close enough +to shout a warning to him. He did not want O'Malley to start a riot at +that moment. + +The Italians were evacuating the base in every sort of machine they had. +Cars roared across the field, men pedaled by on bicycles, trucks +lumbered past, and a whippet tank snorted as it rolled past dragging a +field gun. Men on foot rushed in every direction. + +Stan stumbled and went down, managing to trip two soldiers. Instantly a +dozen Italians were upon him, tugging at him, waving their rifles and +shouting. O'Malley took this as a signal to go into action. He swung +hard on the chin of an officer standing beside him. The surprised +officer went down like a felled beef. With a yell O'Malley waded in, +swinging at soldiers as they piled in on him. Many bloody noses and +black eyes developed in a hurry, but O'Malley was swarmed under by the +weight of sheer numbers. He went down yelling like a Comanche Indian and +swinging like Joe Louis. + +Stan struggled to his feet and held up his hands. He realized the +uselessness of fighting against such odds. The melee O'Malley had caused +had drawn almost a company of Italians to the spot. Allison had managed +to stay on his feet, but he had suffered from rough handling along with +Stan and O'Malley. His uniform, which was wet and sagging, had been torn +in a dozen places. + +"Go quietly!" an Italian officer bellowed. He had just arrived on the +scene. "Go quietly or you will be sorry!" + +"We're going, call off your dogs!" Stan shouted. + +The officer shouted orders in Italian and soon restored a semblance of +order. Allison called across to Stan. + +"Have a look above, and you'll see what all the excitement is about." + +Stan looked into the sky and caught his breath. The paratroopers were +coming. Low over the hilly country a fleet of transports and gliders +swept in from the sea. They swept along in perfect formation like giant +birds seeking a tree to light upon. Above them fighter planes wove in +and out, while on either side fighter-bombers roared along. It was a +beautiful sight. + +Suddenly the Yank air soldiers began to pile out. The sky blossomed with +colored parachutes until the blue was thickly dotted with them like a +field crowded with spring flowers. They came floating down with machine +guns and supply hassocks dangling from their chutes. On a slope above +the field a glider nosed in. It slid to a halt and a jeep bounded out of +its fat, rounded snout. Another glider slid in and a tank rolled out of +it almost before it had slid to a halt. The slope above them was already +swarming with Yanks, and machine guns were rattling. + +Stan looked around desperately. They were being rushed toward a big +truck. He made one last attempt to slow down their retreat. Shaking off +the men who held him, he ducked his head and hit the line of soldiers +like a blocking back clearing a path for a ball carrier. Two Italians +went down, one under a straight, stiff arm and the other from a solid +body-block. Then a soldier clipped Stan across the head with the butt of +his rifle. Stan went down on his face and lay still. + +O'Malley had started his fight again, but this time the Italians were +not wasting precious minutes. O'Malley got a rap such as the one that +had felled Stan. Allison went down under a pile of soldiers. Two +minutes later the three Yanks, out cold, were dumped into the truck and +it was rumbling away along a paved road. + +A few minutes later Stan groaned and opened his eyes. The truck was so +packed with soldiers that he was forced to sit up, even though he had +been out limp and cold. His head throbbed and felt twice its normal +size. Turning it a little he could look out over the side of the truck. +They were rolling along a winding road, climbing in low gear. Looking +back Stan saw the battlefield they had just left. + +The Yank airborne troops had swarmed onto the airfield. Already two big +Yank planes had landed and men were spilling out to take over the field. +With a groan Stan looked up. Twisting his head caused pains to shoot up +and down his neck. He saw that the paratroopers were still coming in. A +field of white chutes filled the air, while behind them dropped the +varicolored chutes carrying equipment and ammunition. Gliders were +casting off their toggle hooks and swooping earthward. Equipped with +tommy-guns, folding rifles, mortars, folding bicycles, bazookas and +light artillery, the air soldiers swarmed down. + +Suddenly excited shouts from the Italians in the truck made Stan look up +again. A fighter-bomber was roaring down toward the truck. Stan saw that +there were three trucks in the group and that they were closely bunched, +an ideal target for the diving Yank. Grimly he watched the hundred-pound +egg slide free as the bomber lifted and zoomed upward. The deadly +missile seemed to hang in the air for a moment, though it grew bigger +and bigger every second. It appeared to be aimed straight at the last +truck in line, which was their transport. Stan looked about for Allison +and O'Malley. + +His pals were standing against the side of the truck, wedged in by +soldiers. They both looked weak and shaken. O'Malley was almost without +clothes. Then the bomb hit. It landed in a bank just behind the truck. A +great upheaval of earth and rocks lifted into the air and showered over +the truck. One rear tire exploded with a bang and the truck began to +wobble and jolt as it swayed along. + +Then they broke over the top of the ridge and went careening down a +steep slope. Five minutes later they had reached cover in an avenue of +trees. But the Italians did not halt for repairs. They wanted to put as +many miles as possible between them and the Yank air army before their +gas ran out. + +An hour later the truck limped into another airfield which had not been +attacked. It was tucked away in a circle of hills with wooded slopes +reaching down to a little valley. Here they found they had overtaken +General Bolero. He was out on the field rushing about, shouting orders +and apparently getting ready to take off again. His staff was trailing +him about, with their bundles and brief cases and files. + +Stan and his pals were rushed into a small barracks room. The junior +officer who spoke English had charge of them, backed by a dozen guards. + +"We will supply you with clothing," he said, casting his eye over their +ragged uniforms. + +The clothing turned out to be blue shirts and bright green dungaree +overalls. O'Malley glared at the officer. Stan grinned as he slipped +into his outfit. + +"It would save you a lot of trouble if you just turned us loose," he +suggested. + +"You will not escape. You will be sent to Italy." The officer matched +O'Malley's glare. "Sicily can never be taken. Our infallible leader +Mussolini has said Sicily can never be taken." He waved his hands +excitedly. "Your forces will be driven into the sea." + +"I'll bet you a bottle of your finest wine that half of the island is +already taken," Stan answered. + +"I say, why don't you kick the Germans out and help us along?" Allison +asked. He felt he might touch a sore spot in mentioning the Germans. + +The shot hit home. A flush spread over the face of the officer. "The +Nazi dogs," he snapped. "We will deal with them after we have used them +to help us." + +"Sure, an' they'll treat you like they did the Poles," O'Malley said. +"An' it will serve you right well, you spalpeens." + +"We'd like to stop over here and rest a bit," Stan cut in. "We realize +you treated us roughly because we made you a lot of trouble. We'll give +you our parole. There'll be no more rough stuff." + +"You talkin' fer me?" O'Malley growled. + +"I am," Stan said and gave O'Malley a hard look. "We'll see that you're +a nice, well-behaved boy." + +"Agreed," Allison said, catching Stan's idea that he was playing for +time. Even if they gave their parole it would not prevent their being +captured by the Yanks. + +The officer smiled knowingly. "You would like to stay here. You think +your air troops will take over this field. No, we will not be so +foolish. You leave for Italy in one hour." He turned and marched out, +after giving orders to the guards. + +"That's that," Stan said. "But we still have a chance. He didn't accept +our parole." + +"They ought to be usin' their men to fight an' not be after keepin' a +whole company here as guards," O'Malley grumbled. + +"After the show you put on, they need a company," Stan snapped. "If we'd +been good boys, they might have left us with a couple of guards." + +"Who started the fuss?" O'Malley demanded. + +"I stumbled, but that was just to slow down the procession," Stan +answered. "I'll admit it was a mistake." + +"We'd better be doing some heavy thinking," Allison warned. "If we don't +we'll spend the rest of this campaign in a prison camp." + +There was no time for thinking and very little chance to talk. The Yanks +were hustled out to the runways and loaded into a shaky and battered +Fiat 20, two-engine bomber. They were escorted by the two squads of +guards who stood around with rifles at ready until the plane started +down the runway. + +Stan was squeezed in between O'Malley and Allison. The space inside the +bomber was very limited, for it was not intended as a passenger plane. +Besides the pilot and copilot, two men armed with pistols sat in the +cramped quarters. The Italians had very thoughtfully provided their +prisoners with parachutes. One of the guards spoke English and was not +unwilling to talk. Stan singled him out at once. + +"I have been in America," the guard said in a friendly fashion. + +"What city?" Stan asked. + +"New York. I stay one year." + +"Didn't you like it?" Stan asked with a grin. + +"Sure, it was much good. I come back for my brother and then there is +war. I must stay." The soldier shook his head sadly. + +"After the war you'll be going back?" Stan asked. + +"Sure. It is a fine place to live, New York. I make plenty money, got +friends." The soldier smiled. "I will see you then." + +Stan laughed. "You sure will." His eyes were on the back of the pilot's +neck. If O'Malley reached out he could touch the man flying the plane. +Stan bent forward, at the same time signaling O'Malley with his knee in +short and long taps. O'Malley finally woke up and answered the Morse +SOS. As Stan talked to the soldier he also telegraphed to O'Malley and +later to Allison. + +What Stan suggested was that they get control of the two pistols. The +friendly soldier was bending closer. Stan would offer to show him some +pictures from America that he had in his wallet. He would get the man +off guard and when he had a chance would grab his pistol and push him +over into the cramped back part of the ship. O'Malley and Allison would +have to get the other pistol. + +"I think I have some pictures you may recognize," Stan said. He fished +out a wallet which the Italians had not taken from him. Opening it he +pulled out several snapshots of planes he had piloted at one time or +another, but he held them so that the soldier had to bend forward. The +guard leaned over almost against Stan. + +Like a flash Stan's hand shot out and he had the pistol. He lunged +forward at the same instant, planting his head in the guard's chest. The +soldier went over his stool and landed in a cramped position in the +narrow waist of the plane. + +O'Malley had leaped the instant Stan's hand shot out. Allison did a good +imitation of an American tackle. The second guard lost his gun but put +up a tussle. Stan wedged past the struggling men and jammed the pistol +barrel into the neck of the pilot. + +"We'll take over now," he snapped. + +The pilot cringed forward while the copilot turned about. Stan circled +his neck with an arm and cinched down tight. Before the copilot could +wiggle free, O'Malley was up forward with the other pistol. The copilot +lifted his hands. His face was white and he seemed scared. + +"Drag him back and tuck him away with the guards," Stan ordered. + +O'Malley and Allison dragged the copilot back and crowded him into the +narrow rear compartment with the others. Allison stood guard over them, +while O'Malley and Stan took over from the pilot. The pilot was not +afraid of the Yanks. He did signals of distress with his wings and put +the ship into a dive before Stan laid him out with a rap over the head. +Sliding into the seat Stan began to fight the old Fiat to get her out of +a spin. + +She was going down, twisting and shuddering in every rivet and stay. +O'Malley finally climbed up front and grabbed the free set of controls. +They heaved her out of her spin just in time. Their wings fanned the +tops of a grove of trees and they had to lay over to miss the spire of a +church. + +"I can handle her now," Stan called across. "I'll go up a bit and then +you get back there and have the Italians bail out. We won't need any +prisoners. If they kick about it, tell them we'll be setting this ship +down on a Malta air strip. That ought to make them bail out." Stan +grinned at O'Malley. + +"Sure, an' it ought to," O'Malley agreed. "No Fiat iver got to land on +Malta under her own power. We'll be shot to kindlin' wood." + +"Maybe we won't go to Malta, but that's where we're headed until they +bail out," Stan laughed. + +O'Malley went back and within a few minutes the Italian crew was +unloading. O'Malley had convinced them the plane was headed for Malta +and they wanted none of the reception they knew an Italian plane would +get over that base. + +Stan watched them sail down, one after another. As the last parachute +blossomed out, Allison and O'Malley crowded forward. Stan had swung due +south, and was holding that course. + +"Suppose you see what you can do with the radio," Stan said. + +Allison laughed. "There isn't any radio and there isn't a gun aboard +this ship, except our two pistols." + +"Fine," Stan said and opened the old Fiat up a bit more. "In that case +we better get in before dark." + +"You better be after rememberin' that I'm commander o' this outfit," +O'Malley broke in. + +"All right, Commander, the ship is yours." Stan eased over a bit. With a +grin O'Malley squeezed into the pilot's seat. + +"Now you can be after givin' the orders," he said. "Where in blazes are +we?" + +"We're over Italy," Stan said. "I think the town we just flew over was +Cosenza, up the coast from Reggio." + +"Do you be after thinkin' that's water ahead?" O'Malley asked. + +They looked ahead and saw a strip of water and a long beach. Stan +frowned. "Must be the Gulf of Taranto. I guess I'm a bit mixed up." + +"I say, old man, we better swing around and head southwest," Allison +said. + +"We could fly to Africa," O'Malley remarked. + +"Not on our gas supply. The Italians must be short of gas. They +certainly didn't fill this crate up." Allison's mocking grin appeared at +the corners of his mouth. + +"How much? Don't be holdin' out secrets on us," O'Malley growled. + +"It's only a wild guess, but I'd say about forty minutes." + +O'Malley gave a startled yelp and spun the ship around to a south by +west course. "Sure, an' we're gettin' out o' here," he said. + +Allison slipped into the copilot's seat while Stan sat on a folding +stool behind him. O'Malley gave all his attention to nursing speed out +of the old ship. He got her air-speed indicator up to two hundred and +fifty miles per hour, but the indicator needle was bent, so there was no +sure way of knowing how fast they were going. They left the expanse of +water behind and headed over a rugged country. Stan felt certain they +were flying down the toe of the Italian boot. + +Everything was going fine when Stan spotted fighter planes above them +and to the west. He did not say anything until the craft were near +enough to be identified. + +"Nine Airacobras off your port wing at two o'clock, Commander," he +shouted. + +O'Malley craned his neck and squinted, then he began to grin. "Sure, an' +there is," he said. "It's an escort we've been needin'. Likely the boys +will know the way home." + +"Certainly they will," Allison said. "And they'll know a Fiat BR 20, +also. This crate looks like a bomber." + +"We better duck and go downstairs for a bit of hedge-hopping," Stan +advised. The Airacobras had spotted the lone bomber and were peeling off +like hounds scenting a buck. + +O'Malley did not need any suggestions as to what to do. He nosed the +Fiat over and sent her down the chute in a screaming dive that +threatened to pull the wings off her. Stan glanced at his chute harness +to make sure everything was in order. He figured O'Malley would fold up +the Fiat like an old accordion when he started to pull her out of the +dive. + +The Airacobras rapidly overtook the bomber, even though she was +power-diving far beyond her limit of stability. Stan saw one of the boys +flash in on their tail. + +"Kite her!" he bellowed. "Stinger on your tail!" + +O'Malley and Allison both hauled back and the Fiat wobbled and staggered +as she started to lift. Stan could hear her joints giving way, then she +bounced. Lead whistled below them, while the Airacobra roared down the +trail of its own bullets. + +"Close," Allison muttered. + +Stan squinted up and back. Two more fighters were lining up. It seemed +plain that they were surprised at the antics of the Fiat. They had never +seen one do stunts like that before. The two came raking in, blasting +from longer range. Stan felt the lead rip through the Fiat's wings and +body. One bullet plunked through close to his head, ripping a big hole, +another exploded back in the tail compartment and half of the peninsula +could be seen through the hole. + +"Sure, an' they need shootin' practice!" O'Malley bellowed as he slipped +off on one wing, did a stall, and laid over for another dive. They were +now close to the treetops. Another Airacobra dived in and when it zoomed +away, they were minus one wing tip and their port engine was stuttering. +But they were down among the treetops and O'Malley was hedge-hopping +like a wild man. They missed an ancient castle set on a cliff. How +O'Malley managed it he himself did not know. One wing lifted and the +turrets of the old castle slipped under. Down they went into a little +valley, fanning the treetops. One motor was dead and the other was not +putting out much power. + +Suddenly they realized that they were being covered by flak fired from a +field ahead of them. The barrage was fierce and concentrated. It sent +the Yank fighters kiting up to a safer level. The boys felt sure of +their kill anyway. The Fiat had started to billow smoke out of the tail +compartment where an incendiary shell had lodged. + +"I'd rather bail out than land in this thing!" Allison shouted. + +O'Malley shook his head and grinned. "Not one chance, she won't lift a +foot. Here goes for a belly landing!" + +They skimmed over a row of trees and headed for an open field surrounded +by woods. The Fiat gave up the ghost halfway across the field. She just +settled down and hit the earth in a cloud of smoke and dust. Twisting +and turning she plowed her way toward the far tree line. Finally she +whirled around and piled up. The dust and smoke was so thick the three +Yanks could see nothing. Pawing and struggling they fought their way out +of the mass of wreckage. They heard men shouting all around them. +Bursting out of the smoke and dust, they found themselves surrounded by +fifty or more German soldiers. + +For a moment the Germans were as surprised as the three Yanks. They had +expected to rescue a crew of Italian fliers. The men before them were +dressed in the garb of Italian civilians. An officer bellowed an order +and the Germans charged in. + +There was no place to run, except out on the open field, and that would +have been suicide because a half dozen of the Germans were armed with +tommy-guns. The Yanks just stood waiting for the Germans to reach them. +The officer in command of the rescue group, a tall fellow with a saber +scar on his cheek, halted before them and regarded them critically. +Slowly a sarcastic smile formed on his lips. He spoke to them sharply in +Italian. + +Stan answered in English. "We are officers of the United States Army." + +The officer looked blank but another officer who had come up broke in, +speaking clipped but perfect English. + +"American fliers dressed as Italian civilians." He raised his eyebrows. +"We can thank your fighters for shooting you down. Your spy system is +very dumb, indeed. Your fighter planes should have known better." + +"We were Italian prisoners of war. Our uniforms were ruined. As a matter +of courtesy the Italians furnished us what clothing they had." Stan +spoke stiffly. "We demand the rights of prisoners of war." + +"We will decide what rights you have, but I believe you will be shot as +spies." The officer turned to his superior and spoke in rapid German. + +Allison had said nothing at all. O'Malley just glared at his captors, +his big hands balled into fists. Stan moved close to him. + +"Keep your shirt on. We're in a tight spot," he said in a low voice. + +"Quiet, you!" bellowed the officer. "Do not talk to each other." + +The ranking officer shouted a command and three German soldiers with +machine guns closed in behind the boys. + +"March!" the younger officer snapped. + +They marched toward the woods. The officer moved stiffly ahead. The boys +realized that escape from two squads of Italians would have been much +easier than escape from the three Germans. They seemed eager to use +their deadly tommy-guns. + +"I understand German, you know," Allison murmured as he bumped against +Stan. Stan moved closer to his pal and Allison went on. + +"The commander is very angry because they were forced to open up on our +fighters. Now the location of their guns is known. He is also eager to +learn something about the strength of our air forces attacking Sicily +and heading for Italy. He hinted we would be baited on by a promise of +being treated as prisoners of war if we talked." + +"We won't talk," Stan muttered. "Anyway, we don't know anything." + +Entering the woods they found themselves in a cleverly hidden camp. The +boys were lodged in a barracks room with barred windows. Two other +prisoners, both Italians, were in the room. A guard stood at the door, +while several others paced up and down outside. + +"Looks snug and tight," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' we'll soon find out," O'Malley growled. + +"We'll go into a huddle and cook up something," Stan said. "We're not in +the hands of Italians now, and I don't feel up to facing a firing +squad." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FIRING SQUAD + + +The three Yanks seated themselves on a rough bench in their cell. The +two Italian prisoners looked them over without interest, then went back +to their own talk, which they were carrying on in whispers. Every once +in a while they shot glances at the boys as though fearing they were +trying to hear what was being said. + +"Suspicious chaps, what?" Allison said, amused. + +"Wonder what they were thrown in for?" Stan mused. + +"Sure, an' it matters very little. What happens to Mrs. O'Malley's boy +is what's worryin' me," O'Malley broke in. "Ivery window is fastened as +tight as the purse o' a Scotsman an' the door is well guarded." + +"They'll be coming after us very soon," Stan said. "They'll question us +one at a time." + +"You'd best act as commander," O'Malley said. "I might plant a fist on +the nose o' one o' their generals." + +"I say, that's a fine idea," Allison agreed. "Stan, you are in command." + +It was natural for them to turn to Stan. He had always been the most +level-headed of the three in tight spots. He grinned at them. + +"We'll see who they pick," he answered. "But we don't talk." + +A few minutes later the junior officer who spoke English appeared. He +shoved past the guard and stood at the barred door. The two Italian +prisoners stopped talking at once. The boys did not get up from their +bench. They returned the stare of the officer. His eyes moved over them +and paused on Stan. + +"Are you in command?" + +"I am in command," Stan answered. + +"Come with me. The colonel is very reasonable. If you are not pig-headed +you may be treated as prisoners of war." + +Stan got to his feet. One of the Italians had risen. He looked at Stan +closely. Suddenly Stan turned back to his pals and bent close to them. +In a whisper he said: + +"Be careful. I just got the idea those Italians may be planted in here +to listen to what we say." + +"Come on, you," the officer snapped. + +Stan moved to the iron grating. Pulling a bunch of keys out of the side +pocket of his tunic, the guard unlocked the door. Stan stepped out on a +narrow walk which led to a row of doors. The officer marched stiffly at +his side. At a glance Stan saw that the place was well guarded. Not less +than a dozen men with rifles were spotted within sight of the guardhouse +and of the buildings grouped around it. + +"You will do well to answer all questions truthfully and in detail. +Colonel Kittle is a man of action." The officer gave decided emphasis to +the last words. + +Stan did not reply. They were entering a big room with wall cabinets and +a desk. Chairs ringed the desk on which lay various trophies and gadgets +such as might have decorated the room of any flight lieutenant. Stan +spotted a piece out of a Hurricane fighter. There was an American Colt +forty-five automatic and a Russian helmet. + +Behind the desk sat the tall officer with the saber scar across his +cheek. Stan sized him up as a Prussian military man of the old school. +Now that he had a good chance to look at the colonel he saw that the man +was hollow-eyed, his skin was drawn tightly over his cheekbones, and his +short, cropped hair was streaked with gray. Stan snapped a salute, not +knowing exactly why he did it. + +The colonel returned the salute and waved a bony hand toward a chair. +Stan seated himself. The officer went on regarding him intently. The +junior officer seated himself beside Stan and waited. Finally the +colonel spoke in German. The young officer frowned, then began +translating. + +"The colonel wishes to compliment you. The Americans have done very well +in Africa." + +"Thanks," Stan answered warily. + +"He sees no reason why you should not be classed as a prisoner of war." +The young officer's lip curled. He turned to the colonel and waited. + +The colonel spoke for some little time. When he stopped talking the +young lieutenant faced Stan. + +"We wish to know the approximate number of fighter and bomber craft +based upon Africa. It would be helpful if you could add information +regarding additional troops moved in to assist in the action against +Italy." + +Stan smiled. "My compliments to the colonel. Tell him I am not at +liberty to give such information." + +The officer scowled. He translated and the colonel smiled back at Stan. + +"That will be all," the young officer snapped. It was plain the young +officer did not like the way his commander was handling matters. + +Stan was marched back to his cell. The young officer hurried away. When +he was out of hearing, Stan spoke in low tones to his pals. He now +noticed that the Italians seemed interested and were trying to listen. + +"The old boy with the scar is commander. He's a Prussian officer of the +old school and does not think much of the Nazi methods. He seems to have +convinced himself that we are really officers and told the truth about +our clothes." + +"I'll get more dope," Allison said. "I can understand their talk." + +A few minutes later the young officer returned and took Allison to the +office. O'Malley and Stan sat waiting for his return. The Italians sat +with their backs against the wall in silence. Fifteen minutes passed and +then Allison returned. The boys went into a huddle. + +"The colonel is not in favor of using the third degree on us. He says he +has reports on us from the Italians and knows we are prisoners of war. +He said all this in German. The young lieutenant seems to be in with the +Gestapo. I gathered that they hate each other." Allison paused and +grinned. "The old boy told him off plenty, but the kid is stubborn. He's +going over the head of the colonel, so we may have trouble." + +"Sure, an' I'll bet the colonel can get tough, just the same," O'Malley +cut in. + +"Yes, he's as hard as nails but he has the old rules well trained into +him. He'll do whatever the big shots order. Guess who the big boy in +Italy is." + +"Couldn't make a stab," Stan said. + +"Rommel himself. He's to keep us from breaching the continent. Remember +how Herr Goebbels has been shouting that the Allies could never break +into the European fortress? Well Rommel is going to see that we don't +crack through." Allison laughed softly. + +"Sure, an' we'll give 'em the same pastin' we gave him in Africa," +O'Malley growled. + +An hour passed and O'Malley was not called in. Supper of bread and thin +soup arrived and with it came the Gestapo officer. He seated himself on +a stool outside the bars and talked while the boys ate. O'Malley looked +at the food, then turned to the officer. + +"'Tis not fit for a hog, this food." + +"That's why you are getting it," the officer said and laughed loudly. + +"We are entitled to decent rations," Stan said. + +"What does it matter about the rations? I have just talked by radio to +headquarters. Unless you give us the information we want, you will be +shot. I have the order with me." He leered at the boys triumphantly. + +"Pleasant sort of folks, you Nazis," Allison drawled. + +"I will attend to the execution myself, tomorrow morning. You will have +tonight to think things over." He got to his feet and kicked aside the +stool. + +Stan finished his tin of soup and stood up. He walked to the barred +door. The guard swung around and made a menacing motion with his rifle. +Stan grinned at him and stepped back. He was convinced the Gestapo +officer had told the guards to shoot on the least provocation, he could +read it in the man's eyes. + +"Be careful," he said as he seated himself again. "The guards have been +told to get rid of us if they can find any excuse." + +"I'd as soon be shot by a guard as a firing squad," Allison said. + +"We might get the fellow up near the bars and get his keys," Stan said. + +"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. "But how?" + +"We'll get over near the door and start to whisper with our backs to +him. See if we can tease him up close," Stan suggested. + +They moved over near the grating and began whispering. The guard stood +watching them. He was a full ten feet from the door and did not move. +His expressionless, beefy face showed not a flicker of interest. Finally +the boys gave it up. + +"He has about as much curiosity as a turtle," Stan said sourly. + +"Sure, an' they may put on a guard with a brain," O'Malley said +hopefully. + +They sat down and tried to think up another scheme. At midnight the +guard was changed and they tried their trick on the new man. He was less +interested than the first one. He turned his back on them and let them +whisper. The boys gave it up and sat down to wait. + +They dozed off after a time. O'Malley stretched out on the floor and +went to sleep. Stan and Allison remained on the bench, leaning back +against the wall. The clatter of trucks and shouting of soldiers wakened +them. Daylight was breaking and the camp seemed to be getting set for +some sort of action. Presently the young officer appeared. He glared at +the three Yanks. + +"Are you ready to talk?" he demanded. + +"No," Stan answered. The others shook their heads. + +"In that case I will waste no time. You will be shot within the hour." +He turned to the Italian prisoners and spoke in German to one of them. +His words were harsh and his attitude showed he had no respect for the +men. + +One of the prisoners answered in German. His words were angry and he +was defiant. Suddenly Allison stepped forward. + +"I say, old man," he addressed the officer. "I've changed my mind. There +is some information I could give the colonel." + +"Come along then," the officer snapped. He shot a few words at the +Italians as he motioned for the guard to open the door. + +Stan grabbed Allison's arm. "You can't do it, fellow," he said. + +Allison turned on him. "You may want to die and become a hero, but I'd +rather be a live war prisoner. I say, get your hands off me." + +Stan started to pull Allison back. With a quick movement Allison planted +a fist on Stan's jaw. It was a hard right cross and set Stan back on his +heels. + +The officer laughed loudly. "Now you are acting quite as you should, you +swine." + +"Let me get a crack at him," O'Malley howled. "The traitor!" + +He was blocked by the bayonet of the guard. Allison walked out of the +cell. He paused and looked back. There was a mocking leer on his lips. + +"Good-by, saps," he said. + +Stan slumped down on the bench. O'Malley marched up and down fuming and +ranting. Twenty minutes passed and a soldier came to the cell. He +escorted the Italians out of the room. Stan got to his feet and walked +to the door. He was attracted by marching feet on the gravel outside. + +Looking out he saw a squad of men with rifles. The squad leader halted +them and faced them toward a wall. Their rifle butts hit the gravel and +they stood rigid, with their backs to the cell door. Stan noticed that +mortar had been knocked from the surface of the wall. He could see many +splattered places and many bullet holes in that wall. Turning around he +looked at O'Malley, who had seated himself. + +"The reception committee has arrived," he said calmly. + +O'Malley got to his feet and walked to the door. In silence they stood +looking out at their executioners. The squad leader was looking their +way. He seemed eager to get at the business he had to perform. + +Two officers appeared and halted before the squad leader. He saluted and +the three talked briefly. The officers turned toward the guardhouse. +They spoke to the guard and he produced his keys. The door was opened +and one of the officers spoke in broken English. + +"Come now." + +Stan and O'Malley walked out of the room. One of the officers produced +two strips of cloth and held them out. Stan shook his head. + +"No blindfold for me," he said evenly. + +"Get them rags away," O'Malley growled. "I'll be lookin' ye in the eye, +ye spalpeens." + +Walking between the two officers, they marched out across the grounds +toward the wall. Reaching it, they faced the men with rifles at rest. + +"Get it over with," Stan snapped. + +"Sure, an' I'll bet Allison will be sorry he isn't here," O'Malley said +gloomily. + +The officers moved back and took up positions beside the firing squad. +Suddenly a jangle of angry and excited voices broke loose from the +direction of the colonel's quarters. A door burst open and a big fat man +plunged out upon the parade ground. + +"General Bolero!" Stan gasped. + +It was General Bolero and he was red-faced with anger. Behind him came +Colonel Kittle, the Gestapo officer, the two Italian prisoners, and +Allison. The general charged across the grounds and halted before the +two officers in charge of the firing squad. He jumped up and down and +shouted, waving his arms wildly all the time. Colonel Kittle came up and +halted. He snapped an order to the officers. + +The Gestapo officer was shouting loudly, but he was no match for the +general, who bellowed so loudly that the medals on his chest danced up +and down. + +The firing squad suddenly came to life. They shouldered their rifles, +about-faced, and marched away. Stan and O'Malley walked over to the +group. + +The general ceased shouting and looked at the two Yank airmen. He puffed +out his cheeks and said: + +"A thousand apologies, gentlemen. I am ashamed. Italy is shamed. This +could not be." He faced the colonel. "These are my prisoners, Colonel. I +am taking them with me." + +Colonel Kittle saluted and nodded. The Gestapo officer whirled and raced +away. + +"We will go quickly," the general said to the boys, "before the suckling +pig receives more orders from his superiors." He bowed deeply to the +colonel and faced about. + +"I have given our promise to go with him," Allison said. "It was the +only way to save your necks." + +They marched away beside the general. Beyond the buildings they came to +a big car with an army driver. General Bolero himself opened the door, +and the boys seated themselves in the rear seat. The general climbed in +the front seat with his driver. He sat very stiffly but every once in a +while he sputtered like the fuse on a firecracker. + +The car rolled up a shady road, past many guards, and on into a wide +highway. Stan turned to Allison. + +"How did you work it?" he asked. + +"I heard one of those Italian prisoners say he demanded to see General +Bolero. The officer told him Bolero was in Colonel Kittle's office. I +thought there might be a slim chance if I could get to the general, so I +pretended to be ready to turn traitor." Allison chuckled. "You should +have seen the general," he lowered his voice, "when I told him we were +to be shot as spies." + +"He's a good egg, but for how long did you give our parole?" Stan asked. +He was worried because a military parole is something a soldier does not +break. + +"Thirty days," Allison replied. "It was the best deal I could make." + +"Thirty days!" Stan repeated. "Italy will be captured by that time and +we'll miss the show." + +Allison grinned. "You know, I got the idea the general figured Italy +would be out of the war by then." + +"'Tis the first time I iver promised to stay in jail," O'Malley said +sadly. "But after lookin' down the barrels o' them Nazi rifles, I'm not +kickin' on the bargain." + +"Yes, we'd have missed all of the show if Allison hadn't outsmarted that +Gestapo officer," Stan agreed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +REST CURE + + +General Bolero took his prisoners to a villa a few miles from Naples. +Here they had comfortable quarters and good food. They saw little of the +general, as he was busy attending to the fortification of the Salerno +and Naples water fronts. When they did see him, he always spoke with +little respect for his German allies. Stan and Allison liked the +general, but O'Malley did not warm up to him. The Irishman had never +liked high-ranking officers. To him they were always brass hats. + +The days passed slowly. The boys had a small radio and always tuned in +the Algiers radio station for news of the Allied attack upon Sicily. The +news of the fighting made them squirm, and for hours after listening to +a military report of the advance of Patton and Montgomery they paced the +floor. O'Malley was especially restless. He marked each day off on the +calendar and planned his escape. + +On the twenty-seventh day the boys were seated on a shady balcony from +which they could look down toward the city of Naples. Directly below the +grounds of their villa were the headquarters and general assembly fields +of the Germans. They seemed to be present in considerable strength. Stan +sat with his feet on a railing. Allison was near the railing. O'Malley +was sprawled out in an easy chair. + +"Sure, an' it will be no trick at all to get away," he said. + +"Before our parole is up the general will make other plans for us, you +can bet on that," Stan answered. + +"I'll bet we're locked up," Allison added. + +"We could sneak out a bit ahead o' time," O'Malley suggested. + +"The general has treated us very fine, besides saving our lives. We stay +until one minute after midnight of the thirtieth day," Stan said firmly. + +"I'm goin' crazy," O'Malley growled, "sittin' around here listenin' to +air fights. There won't be a German plane left to tangle with by the +time we get back into it." He sat up and scowled down at the German +camp. "Besides, these Italians can't make decent pie." + +The boys laughed and O'Malley joined in. Behind them a curtain parted +and four officers stepped out on the balcony. The general was paying +them a visit and he had with him three flying officers of the Italian +air force. + +The Yanks got to their feet. The general smiled in friendly fashion and +waved a hand toward the three fliers. + +"I have brought three of my boys, Tony Bolero, Arno Bolero and Lorenzo +Bolero. They are all officers of our air corps." He faced the Yanks. +"Lieutenant Wilson, Lieutenant O'Malley, and Lieutenant Allison." + +The Bolero trio bowed deeply. Stan stepped forward and held out a hand. + +"Glad to meet you, Lorenzo," he said. + +The fliers shook hands while the general beamed happily upon them. + +"Sit down. I have much to say to you men," he said. + +They found chairs and pulled them up beside a table. The general seated +himself and puffed out his cheeks as he fished a thick envelope from his +pocket. + +"What I am about to say is most unusual. I have a request to make of you +Americans. I wish you to extend your parole." He lifted a hand as +O'Malley opened his mouth to say no. "I feel that you should do this +after the manner in which you have been treated." He smiled at Stan. + +"For how long, sir?" Stan asked. + +"I cannot say exactly, but not for very much longer. I am leaving my +boys here and they will be with you during the time you stay here." His +smile faded and he suddenly looked tired and old. "I ask this for a +personal reason. Perhaps I am selfish." + +"You saved our lives, sir," Allison said. "I'm giving my parole for a +while longer." + +"I'll give mine, sir," Stan promised. + +They looked at O'Malley. "An' I'm gettin' away if I can," he declared. + +The general bowed. "You know, of course, that I must place you in +custody of a guard?" + +"Sure," O'Malley replied. "Sure, but I'm gettin' itchy feet." + +The general nodded. He handed the fat envelope to his eldest son, +Lorenzo. + +"You will keep this for me. Above all it must not be given to the +Germans." He got to his feet. "Now I must be getting back to +headquarters. I trust you have been comfortable, gentlemen?" + +"We have, thank you, sir," Allison said. + +Gravely the general shook hands with the three Yanks and with each of +his sons. At the doorway he paused and they all gave him a snappy +salute. After he was gone the Bolero boys were silent. They stood at the +balcony looking down on the shady road until his car disappeared inside +the German camp. Lorenzo turned to Stan and there was a tight smile on +his lips. + +"This is a strange war for the Italians," he said. + +"It is," Stan agreed. + +The brothers shrugged their shoulders and started to chat with the Yanks +in smooth English. They had learned the language in Great Britain. +O'Malley sat back and said nothing. Stan and Allison carried on the +talk. The war was not mentioned again. Allison and the brothers talked +about schooldays in England. + +At last Lorenzo got to his feet. The others joined him. They all bowed. + +"We leave you now but will see you at dinner tonight." + +After they had gone, O'Malley burst out, "You sure did get tricked by +that ol' brass hat." + +"I don't think so," Stan said. + +"I say, old man, you better change your mind. If you don't, I'll wager +you a dinner we see action before you do." Allison was smiling. + +"Sure, an' you talk riddles," O'Malley snorted. + +"There's only one place the general can put you for safekeeping right +now. He'll have to turn you over to the Germans. This part of the +country has been taken over by the Nazi gang." Allison spoke slowly. +"The general hates the Nazis. Figure it out for yourself." + +"An' suppose he pops up with a regiment o' soldiers to take you to a +camp about five minutes before our parole is up?" O'Malley asked. + +"He could do that anyway," Stan answered. "We've waited a month. A few +more days won't kill us. I have a feeling Allison is right." + +"The Italians have thrown Mussolini out, perhaps they will start +throwing the Germans out," Allison said. + +"They wouldn't have a chance," O'Malley answered. + +"I guess you're right about that, but something's up. I'm going to wait +and see." Stan walked to the balcony rail and seated himself. + +That night at dinner the Bolero brothers were quite gay. And for the +next few days they were always around, but always friendly and polite. +Stan wondered why they were not at the front. Italy certainly needed +every pilot she had. He did not think that the officers had been +detailed to watch them. + +The parole day came and a guard arrived in the morning. The three Yanks +saw a squad of Italian soldiers headed by a young officer halt in the +yard below. O'Malley sat on the rail, watching. The young officer came +to the balcony alone. + +"Which one is Lieutenant O'Malley?" he asked. + +O'Malley grinned at him. "Sure, an' that's me. I'm glad you dropped in. +Tell General Bolero that I am givin' my parole, though it is against me +better judgment." + +The officer bowed. "I am pleased," he said. "I will report this to the +general." He bowed again and turned on his heel. + +Stan looked at O'Malley. "I thought you'd get some sense into that +shaggy head of yours." + +"We'll rot right here," O'Malley said with a scowl. "But the likes o' +you has need o' someone to look out for you." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "You are very thoughtful." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ESCAPE + + +The three Yanks were sitting on their balcony restlessly watching the +activity in the German camp below. They were beginning to wonder if +General Bolero ever meant to release them from their promise. His sons +still remained at the villa, but they never mentioned the war. Suddenly +Lorenzo burst out on the balcony. He halted and lifted both hands +excitedly. + +"Italy has surrendered!" he announced. "You are free men!" + +Before the Yanks could reply, Arno and Tony rushed in. They were very +excited. + +"This is the hour we have waited for," Tony shouted. "Now we will drive +out the Black Shirt Fascisti and the Germans." The younger brothers +embraced each other and danced up and down. Lorenzo smilingly watched +them. Slowly he turned to the three surprised Yanks. "My family--we +have fought against the big-talking Mussolini. We belong to the society +Free Italy." + +"Great!" Allison exclaimed. + +O'Malley was already headed for the door. + +"Wait!" Lorenzo shouted after him. "I must tell you some things." + +O'Malley halted and turned toward the door. "Sure, an' all I want is to +get back into this fight." + +"I am sure you do," Lorenzo said. "And I am going to help you." + +"Good," Stan said. + +Lorenzo took a fat package from his pocket. It was the package his +father had given him. He held it out to Stan. + +"Here are the locations of all German bases in Italy, the positions of +batteries, the supply routes used, and all the military maps you will +need. This is very important information." + +O'Malley was staring at the package. "Sure, an' it's of no use now with +Italy out o' the war. We'll be headed for Germany." + +Lorenzo shook his head. "I'm afraid it is not so easy as that. Germany +has as complete control of Italy as she has of any conquered country. +The Germans will be helped by our Black Shirts, who know they will be +treated badly if they do not stay in power." He spread his hands wide. +"Every officer like my father will be hunted down. We will be hunted. +Today we dress as civilians and go north to destroy Nazi rail lines and +supply dumps." + +Stan took the packet. "Have you any suggestions for our getting out of +Italy?" + +Lorenzo smiled. "My brothers and I will have no use for our Nardi +fighter planes. Perhaps after the war we might be repaid with an +Airacobra." + +"'Tis a foine set o' brothers ye are," O'Malley cried. "Lead me to those +Nardi ships." + +"They are in a woods north of the villa. On the hunting acres of the +Bolero estate there is a runway the Germans have not found. I will lead +you to your planes. But we had best hurry as the Germans are taking over +everything." He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. "You +know how efficient the Germans are." + +"You will go nowhere," a harsh voice said. + +The boys whirled toward the wide doorway leading to the balcony. Four +German soldiers with tommy-guns stood glaring at them. A youngster with +an officer's insignia on his shirt spoke. + +"We have heard what you said. You are spies and will be dealt with +quickly." + +Lorenzo was in front of Stan. He whispered, "Over the balcony rail. +There is a large shrub to land on. Take the path leading from the +kennels. Cross the ridge. There is no road to the field." + +"You, stop talking!" the German officer shouted. + +Stan did not hesitate. He did a backward flip. As he went over the +railing he saw flame flash from a machine gun. He caught a glimpse of +Lorenzo sagging forward, his hands gripping his stomach. + +The next instant he had plunged into a large bush which broke his fall. +He lay beside a rock wall in a ditch. Vaguely he knew where the kennels +were. Tony had taken him back to see the dogs one evening after dark. +From above he could hear the officer bellowing down to the men he had +left below. He hoped the Germans had felt so sure of their quarry that +they had not surrounded the house. + +Reaching a corner he discovered a guard there. The man was looking up, +listening to his commander's orders. Stan hit him hard in the back with +a knee and slapped a viselike grip around his neck. The man sagged down +without a murmur. Stan stripped off the fellows cartridge jacket and +grabbed his tommy-gun. He was glad the Germans had equipped their hounds +with rapid-fire guns. + +Leaping forward he reached the back of the house. There he halted. The +squad cars were in the back yard, two of them. Four men stood at the +back door listening to the shouting above. Stan saw the kennels and set +himself to blast a path to freedom. + +Suddenly he heard a wild yell from above. It was O'Malley and Stan could +tell the Irishman was seeing red. There was a fight in progress up on +the balcony. Machine guns chattered savagely. Stan felt suddenly sick to +his stomach. The boys were up there mixing it barehanded with four +Germans armed with machine guns. + +The guards at the door whirled to leap into the house. Stan's submachine +gun burst into flame and he swept a pathway of death across the ranks +of the Nazis. They went down in a writhing mass, one of them rolling off +the steps and crawling away on his hands and knees, leaving a bloody +path behind him. + +Stan leaped for the back door and plunged into the house. He went +through the spacious music room and up the wide stairway leading to the +balcony like a charging tank, his submachine gun at his hip, his eyes +like cold steel. + +Leaping through the doorway he swept the room with his gun. O'Malley and +Allison and Tony were crowded back against the wall. O'Malley was +bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder. A broken chair lay on +the floor and beside it lay a dead German. Lorenzo lay on the floor face +up. He was dead, but there was a smile of triumph on his lips. Arno had +sagged down into a chair. He, too, was bleeding from a head wound. + +The three Germans had their backs to the door. The officer was wild with +fury. He was shouting wildly. + +"If I did not have orders to bring you in so that we can force you to +tell who your underground helpers are, I would shoot you all and leave +you here to rot!" + +"Put up your hands or you'll stay here to rot!" Stan snapped. + +The Germans whirled about. As they turned, the two soldiers dropped +their guns and elevated their hands. The officer came around with his +machine gun firing. Stan opened up and cut him down. The two men began +shouting: + +"_Kamrad! Kamrad!_" + +Stan backed them up against the wall. Before he had gotten them moved +O'Malley and Allison had their tommy-guns. They stripped the ammunition +from the soldiers. + +"Tie them up," Stan snapped. He turned about and saw that Tony and Arno +were kneeling beside their brother. + +"We should go now. We cannot help him, but I shall see that he is +mentioned in my reports as a hero in the cause of democracy," Stan said +softly. + +The two brothers straightened and rose to their feet. They stood stiffly +and saluted. + +"We will show you the flying field," Arno said. + +"We better get moving. Both squad cars made off and they'll bring back +reinforcements. The drivers didn't happen to be armed or else they +thought the place was garrisoned." Stan nodded toward Arno and O'Malley. +"Plug those wounds as you go along." + +"I will get first aid and medicine from the cabinet in my room. I'll +overtake you," Tony said. + +They moved down the wide stairway, leaving the German soldiers where +they would be rescued. Tony dashed off while the others, led by Arno, +hurried out of the house and across the yard to the stables. Racing +through the spacious barns they came to the kennels. By the time they +had passed these Tony had caught up with them. + +Pushing through a hidden gate in a hedge they came to a bridle path over +which tall trees draped their branches. + +"I say, a beautiful spot," Allison murmured. + +"It has the smell of auld Ireland," O'Malley said wistfully. + +"We are very fond of it," Tony said. + +Arno was ahead, moving rapidly upward. They hurried along and caught up +with him. From then on there was no talking; the trail wound upward +steeply, covered by a canopy of trees. Reaching the top of the ridge +they broke out into a forest. Arno led them to a spot where there was a +narrow flight strip. Still they saw no planes. + +Crossing the strip they entered a grove of tall trees and there stood +three, trim ships. O'Malley yelped with joy. Stan looked at the craft +critically. They were Nardi FN 500's, obsolete in speed and fire power, +but trim and sturdy ships just the same. Arno smiled. + +"We built this secret field so that we could slip in at night without +the black-shirted Fascisti knowing where we had gone. We met often to +plan the overthrow of Mussolini and his murderers." + +"You landed here at night?" Allison asked in amazement. + +"Certainly," Arno answered modestly. + +"We could use you as a fighter pilot," Stan answered. "When you get +through blowing up bridges and trains, you'd better join us. We'll vouch +for you." + +"We will do that. We like very much to fly," Tony said eagerly. + +"You will find the guns on the ship are serviced. The engine is 1200 +horsepower, you have two fixed guns firing through the prop and two guns +fixed in the wings. You can get three hundred and fifty miles per hour +out of those ships," Arno spoke proudly. + +"Yet they are not as good as the Messerschmitts or the Focke-Wulf," Tony +added. "And I think you will have to fight your way home against the +Germans." + +"Sure, an' we'll show them a fight," O'Malley said happily. + +"You have gas to reach Malta, but not much for fighting. It is best that +you run fast for home," Arno advised. + +"We'll do just that," Stan said, remembering the package inside his +shirt. + +Tony and Arno helped them wheel the Nardis out on the flight strip. They +were surprised to find another ship tucked away under the trees. + +"Father's ship," Arno said with a catch in his voice. "But he has not +been able to come for it." + +"He'll come," Allison said, but he was not so sure the general was +alive. He knew the Germans would be ruthless in wiping out all +anti-Fascist leaders in the territory they controlled. + +The boys climbed up and got into the beautifully streamlined cockpits. +They slipped into the Italian parachutes and got set. Arno and Tony +acted as ground crew and the engines were soon turning over smoothly. +Stan checked his dials and made himself familiar with gun controls and +equipment; he cracked the throttle and listened to the roaring surge of +power. Then he throttled down and leaned out, waving an arm in a signal +that he was leading off. O'Malley and Allison answered the signal. They +knew it was their job to see that Stan got through with his reports and +maps. + +Stan kicked the throttle open and the Nardi roared to life, leaping +forward with surprising speed. Stan hoiked her tail with an added blast +of prop pressure and tested her. She lifted at once. Unburdened by the +armor plate carried by a Lightning or an Airacobra for the protection of +the pilot and constructed of much lighter materials, she bounced off the +ground before half of the short runway had been covered. + +Stan leveled off close to the tops of the trees. He wanted to make sure +Allison and O'Malley got away, and so he did not want to stir up the +swarm of German fighter planes on the big flying field just a few miles +away. + +O'Malley came up and then Allison. They dropped into formation beside +Stan and he set his course by compass, straight for Sicily. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOMEWARD BOUND + + +Stan was not sure of the terrain he had to fly over. He wanted to avoid +the German flying fields if possible, but knew there would be many +dispersal areas and flight strips. Getting through would be largely a +matter of luck. + +The formation of Nardi FN's swooped over the ridge above Bolero Villa. +Stan was flying low and pushing the Nardi hard. He grinned as he glanced +at the air-speed indicator. They were topping three hundred miles per +hour. + +Suddenly they swept away from the hilly country and were over the German +air base. There was nothing to be done about it but keep on going. Stan +cast a critical eye downward and laughed softly. He took in the details +of the carefully hidden dispersal plots, the tree-shaded oil dumps and +the shrub-covered barracks. The picture he was fixing in his mind might +be useful later. + +They had reached the center of the area when the surprised ack-ack +gunners woke up. A half-dozen groves of trees suddenly erupted flame and +the sky above the three streaking Nardi's was filled with smoke tracers +and exploding steel. + +The Yanks went on and were away from the field before the gunners got +their altitude spotted. Stan drew a deep breath of relief. He was glad +that he had followed his hunch to fly low. Then he noticed O'Malley, on +his right, zoom upward, while Allison looped off to the left. An instant +later he spotted the reason for this maneuver. He had been so interested +in the ground below that he had forgotten the sky. A returning flight of +twenty Messerschmitts had spotted the Italian planes. + +The Me pilots evidently had received orders not to let any Italian +planes escape to join the Allies. They were coming in low for a landing +and that gave the Yanks a break. But there were twenty of them, and they +were faster and more heavily armed than the Nardi ships. + +Stan held his course steadily, while he tried to coax a few more revs +out of his motor. He was doing three-forty and could get no more. +Glancing up he saw that by quick thinking O'Malley and Allison had +gotten the edge on the Jerries. They were up above and getting set to +come down to cover his retreat. + +Grimly Stan gave his attention to his course. He was hedge-hopping over +trees and power lines. Never in his life had he seen so many power +lines. By staying down he made it tough for a diving enemy. But these +Jerries were veteran fliers. They had learned a few things about rhubarb +raiders and how to handle them from the many raids staged out of England +upon the low countries. Three of them fanned out each way, right and +left, and came zooming around in a circle like coyotes bent upon cutting +off the retreat of a jack rabbit. + +Stan watched them as they went into their circle and saw that even in +making such a maneuver they could outfly his ship. He held his course +and a tight smile formed on his lips. Everything depended upon his +timing. If he handled the thing right and guessed right, he would dodge +the cross fire of the six killers. + +The Me's came in in pretty formation, three to a side, staggered so as +to lay down a terrible and enclosing wall of death. Stan's hands were +cold upon the controls, but they were steady. His eyes took in all the +attackers in one moving picture. He was waiting for a tip that would +give him the break he needed. He had given up hope that O'Malley or +Allison would be able to break through and crack the deathtrap. Fourteen +Me's were savagely attacking them, bent upon their destruction. + +The Jerries gave Stan his break just before they went into the final act +of the kill. They thought they were trapping an Italian pilot and they +knew just how the Italian boys flew. One of the planes on the left +lifted a little to clear the zoom of the Me under him. That was all Stan +needed to know. The three Jerries on the left would go up, slamming lead +across his path. Two of the Me's on the right would go down and one +would come in straight. Stan kicked the Nardi over hard to the left, +heading her for the tower of a high line that swung down from the hills. + +The Me's went into their act, guns blazing away, punching holes into the +air. The maneuver was a beauty. The only thing wrong with it was that +the target had shifted course suddenly, leaving them in a wild tangle +with a lot of stunting to be done before they could close in again. + +But Stan's troubles were not over. His left wing raked through the top +of a small tree less than ten feet high. The power line and the high +steel tower were hurtling at him. He flattened out and held his breath. +There was no time to zoom over the heavy cables; he had to go under and +hope for the best. + +Stan did not see the cables or the tower go by; all he knew was that he +was boring straight for a red-roofed building set on a knoll. He zoomed +up and drew in a big lungful of air. Looking back, he saw that his +hounds were still busy getting untangled. He spotted only five of them +and guessed that one had come to grief in the circus stunting they had +been forced to do. + +Looking upward he saw, far above in the blue sky, smoke trailers and +little, darting planes. O'Malley and Allison were still up there, he +could tell by the pattern of the fight. Then he noticed that the five +Jerries who had been battling him started up to join the fight. He had a +powerful urge to turn back and help his pals, though going back would be +a suicide move. + +Bending forward he felt the bulky package inside his shirt and his eyes +hardened. His job was to go ahead. O'Malley and Allison were sacrificing +themselves so that he could go on. If he went back, he would be throwing +away the fruits of their courage and daring. + +Dimly and like a miniature motion picture, the battle above and behind +him was reflected on his rear-vision mirror. There was a lump in Stan's +throat as he noticed that two of the planes were coming down, twisting +and turning, trailing plumes of smoke. Before the picture faded out he +saw one parachute blossom, a tiny white flower against the green of the +hills and the blue of the sky. + +A little later he spotted the coast and the sea. A line of hilly, high +ground slipped under his wings and he headed out toward the beaches. +Suddenly the peaceful sky around him exploded in his face. Coastal +batteries had spotted him. He was low, but this time the gunners were +looking for low-flying bombers and strafing planes. They laid their flak +and their tracers on him in a deadly hail of screaming steel. The Nardi +bucked and turned half over as a shell burst under her belly. Ragged, +saw-edged pieces of shell casing ripped through the wings. An exploding +shell ripped away the whole nose and the prop. Stan felt the Nardi +wobble. Her terrific speed hurled her on and out over the water, away +from the pattern of shells. But she was a dead duck and Stan knew it. +His greenhouse was mashed down close above his head. He tried the hatch +cover and found it jammed tight. Testing the controls, he found he could +still handle the ship in a glide. + +Below him he could see two destroyers lying off the shore. They were +blasting away at the batteries he had spotted for them. In closer, two +PT boats darted back and forth, leaving trailing plumes of white foam +behind them. + +The Nardi had been flying so low that Stan had no chance to maneuver. He +figured she would sink like a rock when she hit the water. Heaving with +all of his strength he tried to open the hatch. The cover refused to +budge. Green waves were reaching up for him. He smashed at the glass +overhead and was able to push out a pane. Savagely he battered away as +the Nardi settled down. + +With a twist he laid the ship over, then flattened her, heading +straight for one of the PT boats. Now he was smashing with both hands at +the panes over his head. The glass cut his hands and arms, but he did +not feel the pain. He had a hole and he needed desperately to enlarge +it. + +The Nardi nosed gently into the trough of a big wave, then it hit the +wave and crumpled up. Green water surged over the cockpit into Stan's +face. He heaved himself upward and fought to get clear. His parachute +was off and he was half out of the cockpit, but a great force was +sucking him down, down into the cool depths of the sea. + +Stan felt the Nardi hit bottom. The thought flashed through his mind +that they were in shallow water. At a moment like this, cold, unwavering +control of mind and body was necessary. One moment of panic meant death. +Stan gritted his teeth and heaved hard. His waist pulled free and +suddenly he was floating upward. His lungs were bursting with fire and +his hands smarted, but he stroked hard and a few seconds later he burst +out of the water, blowing and flailing. The first thing he saw was the +PT boat. It was circling the spot where the Nardi had disappeared. Its +skipper waved to Stan and shouted. + +"Keep afloat! We'll toss you a line!" + +"Thanks!" Stan shouted back. + +The line came out as the boat moved closer. Stan grabbed it. Two sailors +hauled him aboard. He was met by a grinning young lieutenant, junior +grade. + +"I sure appreciate the lift," Stan said and grinned. + +The skipper stared at him. "A Yank!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get +the Eity plane?" + +"It was loaned to me by Italian friends," Stan replied. "I have +important papers which need to be dried," he added. + +"And some dry clothes," the skipper said. "Come below." + +They went below and the lieutenant introduced himself. "I'm Lieutenant +Del Ewing." + +"I'm Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Army Air Corps," Stan said. "I have been a +guest of the Italians for more weeks than are good for anyone." + +"They outfitted you when they gave up?" + +"They did. A lot of them are German haters and will help us all they +can." Stan spoke soberly. He was thinking of Lorenzo lying on the floor +with a smile on his lips, and of General Bolero, who probably had been +shot by now. "A lot of them have real courage," he added. + +Del Ewing nodded. "I've seen some of it," he said. + +"Now about these papers." Stan took the package out of his dripping +shirt. The gummed wrapper fell off, exposing an oiled cloth envelope. +That was lucky. The maps and papers were dry. + +Del Ewing was digging into his sea chest, laying out dry clothing and an +oilskin coat. He spoke over his shoulder: + +"I can't land you until tomorrow. This is a mission that can't be +dropped. My radio is shot and I'm here to stay until that destroyer out +beyond turns in. If I quit my sector, a sub or a torpedo boat might +slide in and plant a tin fish in her side." + +"The papers are vitally important to both Army and Navy," Stan said. +"But tomorrow will do." + +After fitting Stan out with dry clothing, the skipper went on deck and +the PT boat got under way to resume her patrol work. Stan soon began to +wonder if the little boat had not joined battle with a German craft. She +was hitting a nerve-shattering, plank-busting speed that tossed Stan all +over the little room. He turned to the navigator and discovered that the +kid was having trouble keeping from being sick all over his charts. He +gave Stan a green-lipped smile. + +"The skipper is pushing her a bit fast, isn't he?" Stan asked as he +lurched into a seat beside the navigator. + +"Just planing speed, sir," the boy answered. + +"Seems to me like a cross between a submarine and an airplane," Stan +said. He was beginning to feel a bit sick himself. + +Deciding he needed fresh air, he made his way up on the deck. Clinging +to the rail, he set his teeth while spray lashed his face and tubs of +water hurtled at him. Stan was reminded of riding a pitching bucker +while somebody dumped buckets of water into his face. The whole ship was +vibrating from the powerful thrusts of the Packard engines in the stern. +The deck bristled with light cannon, torpedo tubes, and machine guns. +Up there in that wild smother of foam and noise there was no chance to +talk, but Stan watched a while. + +The PT boat ducked and wove in and out between the destroyers and the +shore. Shells burst around her, churning up the sea, but the gunners +were unable to guess where the flighty PT would be at any given moment, +so they never hit very close to her. Stan hoped they would spot a sub or +an enemy patrol boat, but nothing showed up except other PT boats. + +Stan started to go below. He did not even want to think about food, but +he did feel like resting. The skipper came forward and offered to show +him a bunk, but before they went down he said: + +"You must undo your oilskin up topside; I mean, up here on the deck." + +"But I'll get soaked," Stan protested. + +"No matter, if you remain vertical for any length of time below decks +you're done for." He grinned at Stan. + +Stan went below and made it into his bunk after the third try. He lay +there with the bunk falling away from him, then slapping him hard in the +face as it came back at him. He closed his eyes and utter exhaustion +finally put him to sleep. His dreams were filled with writhing sea +monsters, every one of them rushing through the water at express-train +speed. + +In the morning the skipper informed him that they were heading for +Malta, which was now the headquarters of the Allied invasion forces. + +"We got the radio going and asked permission. When we mentioned papers +from General Bolero, they called us right in." Del Ewing grinned +broadly. "We're in luck getting away from this game of tag." + +Stan was standing beside him on the deck and the boat was knifing along +half out of the water. Suddenly Ewing bellowed: + +"Hard a port!" + +The helmsman spun the wheel and Stan clung to the railing with the +breath knocked out of him. He saw a black object swish past. + +"Wandering mine!" Del Ewing bellowed. "Probably one of our own!" + +Stan drew a deep breath and grinned at the skipper. "I'll take mine in a +plane!" he shouted. + +"I would, too, only I can't pass the physical examination for aviator. +They tell me I wouldn't be able to stand the strain!" Ewing laughed +heartily. + +Stan wiped salt water out of his eyes and shook his head. He had seen +many rough-riding vehicles of war, such as tanks and jeeps, but the PT +boat had them all bested. Any craft that was such a rough-riding brute +that half of its seasoned crew got sick was no place for him, he assured +himself. + +Toward eleven o 'clock Malta came into view, and they put into port +through a mass of ships and flatboats and barges. A sprinkling of +warcraft, including one British warship, filled the channel they were +following. But that did not bother the skipper. He sent his boat in at +planing speed which necessitated a lot of ducking and dodging. + +Pulling alongside a dock, the PT boat was made fast. Stan climbed over +the side and set his feet firmly on the ground. He was glad to be off +the deck of the speedy craft. The skipper grinned at him. + +"I'll get you a ride to headquarters. Your legs don't seem to be up to +walking that far." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "I'd be picked up by the M.P.'s for being drunk if +I tried to walk." + +The skipper secured a jeep for Stan from a Navy supply outfit. They +shook hands and the jeep roared away at top speed. Stan leaned back and +took the jolts. They seemed like caresses after the skipper's PT boat. + +News of the package he was carrying had come in ahead of Stan. A +lieutenant was waiting for him. + +"This way, sir," he said and hurried away with Stan almost running to +keep up. + +They entered a room where a dozen officers sat around a big table. +Stan's guide halted and saluted. + +"Lieutenant Wilson, sir." + +A grizzled general looked up from a map. Stan stepped forward and handed +over the package. The general took it and ripped it open at once. Stan +stood waiting to be dismissed. He started to back away. The general +lifted a hand. + +"Don't leave, Wilson. These papers are vitally important." He stopped +talking and spread out the contents of the package. The other officers +were leaning forward. "These are most important, most valuable," the +general said. He shoved the papers over to a colonel. + +"Look them over and let me know what you think of them." He turned to +Stan and smiled. + +Stan waited for whatever might be coming. The general fingered his +close-cropped mustache and continued to smile. Suddenly he leaned +forward and spoke. + +"Since receiving a message from the Navy regarding your rescue I have +had your service record handed to me. I find it quite interesting. What +happened to Lieutenant O'Malley and Lieutenant Allison?" + +Stan did not smile. "The last time I saw them they were fighting a +ten-to-one battle with a flight of Messerschmitts, a delaying action, so +that I could get through with these papers. We were flying Nardi +fighters furnished us by the Italians." + +The general's smile faded. "You think they are lost?" + +"I'm going to check with operations," Stan said. "Both O'Malley and +Allison have come back from some tough fights." + +The general reached for a telephone. "I'll have a check made," he said. + +"Has Colonel Benson been asking about us?" Stan asked and there was a +twinkle in his eye. + +"I believe it will be best to transfer you to another command. We do not +wish to approve your conduct as ferry pilots, but you certainly have +rendered a great service." The general gave his attention to the phone. +After fifteen long minutes of waiting and talking he cradled the +instrument and shook his head. "No Nardi fighters have been reported +flown in by escaped American pilots. A number have come in piloted by +Italian officers." + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "I would like to have immediate service in +a fighter squadron." + +"That will be arranged from my office. Now get into some proper clothing +and report to Mess Nine. Hold yourself ready there to report to this +office. We have a lot of questions to ask and we'll be ready to start +asking them as soon as you are clothed and fed." + +Stan snapped a salute and about-faced. He marched out of the office, got +the location of Mess Nine from an orderly, and headed in that +direction. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LONE EAGLE + + +A week passed with Stan lounging around Mess Nine waiting to be assigned +to a fighter squadron. During that time he divided his hours between the +officers at Intelligence and the board of strategy. He rubbed elbows +with generals, British and American and French. During those interviews +he got an idea of the great campaign which was being planned. It helped +to soften the ache inside him, because he had heard nothing from +O'Malley or Allison. It also helped to keep him from getting restless. +He knew that a great reserve of air power was being assembled to throw +an umbrella of planes over the coming thrust, which was aimed at the +heart of Germany, through or across Italy. + +The second week was well under way and everyone, except the generals, +was beginning to complain and to cast a critical eye at the headquarters +of General Dwight D. Eisenhower and General Harold R. L. G. Alexander. +Stan knew enough of the plans from his meetings with the officers to +know that the blow was coming, and that it would be a swift, savage +thrust. + +One morning he received a call. It was delivered by an orderly. Stan +opened the folded sheet and read an order from headquarters. "Report to +Colonel Benson at once for assignment." Stan stared at the order. Benson +had located him and demanded his return. The friendly general who had +promised to transfer Stan was now in North Africa. Folding the report, +Stan began packing the few things he owned. Colonel Benson's command had +been moved up to a field close to Messina. That was some comfort. It +meant action as soon as the main invasion broke. + +But Stan was uneasy. There were many nasty jobs around a fighter +squadron to which he could be assigned as punishment for his part in the +ferry mess. When Stan was given a low-powered observation plane to fly +to Messina, his worst fears seemed about to be realized. + +The plane was a Ryan ST-3, a plane used for basic training back home and +for odd jobs of scouting, ferrying first-aid supplies, and other +non-combat jobs. It was sleek and fast, as light planes go, but it was +far from a fighter. + +Stan sent the Ryan up and headed her north by a point or two east. The +Ryan showed surprising speed for the size of her engine. Stan grinned as +he gunned her. He got to thinking that after the war he would like to +own a ship like it. + +Swinging in around Mount Etna's cone, he set down on the Italian field +where Colonel Benson's boys were holding forth. A field officer took his +papers and waved him toward a row of drab buildings. + +"The commander wants to see you at once." He spoke gruffly and showed no +interest at all in Stan. + +Stan unloaded his gear in the briefing room and walked across to the +colonel's headquarters. The door was open and he looked into a room +barely large enough for a table and three chairs. Colonel Benson was +seated at the table. He looked up and when he saw Stan he frowned. + +"Come in, Lieutenant Wilson," he called. + +Stan stepped inside, saluted, and stood waiting. + +"Sit down." The colonel motioned to a chair. + +Stan seated himself and waited. The colonel regarded him for a moment, +then started to speak. + +"In all of the years I have been in service I have never read a report +like the one handed to me. That report covers your activities as ferry +pilot in my command." The colonel shifted some papers on his desk, +selected one and began reading it silently. + +"Yes, sir," Stan said, feeling some reply was called for. + +"It is a continuous recital of violations of orders resulting in a great +deal of trouble. In my opinion it deserves drastic action." His cold +eyes stabbed into Stan. + +"Yes, sir," Stan answered. He did not intend to argue, not at that +moment. + +"Take this report." A smile formed at the corners of the colonel's +mouth. "The Navy gives us the numbers from three planes that saved a +warship from being sunk off Sicily. In checking the numbers we discover +the planes are ferry planes bound for Malta." He picked up another +report. "Here is a memorandum from General Eisenhower citing Lieutenant +Wilson for the delivery of vital documents from inside Italy." The +smile faded. "And there is a line mentioning Lieutenant's O'Malley and +Allison for covering your escape." The colonel dropped the paper and +leaned back. + +"Yes, sir," was all Stan could say, but a warm glow was beginning to +stir inside him. + +"And that last line is the reason for my calling for your services, +Lieutenant. I have received a message brought in by an Italian pilot who +managed to fly his plane over here." He shoved a piece of soiled paper +across to Stan. "It is addressed to you." + +Stan caught the paper eagerly and read the scrawled lines upon it. + +"Shot down. Prisoners. Held in shed back of Bolero barns. Tony with us. +One of the Bolero servants will try to smuggle this out." The note was +signed by Allison. + +"They're alive!" Stan almost shouted. + +"They are," the colonel said dryly. + +"They'll be treated like spies and not prisoners of war. The Germans +pulled that on us before," Stan said anxiously. + +"You three seem marked down as irregulars," the colonel said. "I now +find myself in the position of becoming a party to your wild schemes." +He laughed outright. "I have not reported this to headquarters. I am +afraid O'Malley and Allison should and would be marked down as +expendables and left to be shot by the Germans." He straightened and +shoved the papers aside. "With a fast, light bomber, would you have a +chance to land over there?" + +"I certainly would," Stan said eagerly. "The Bolero boys have a secret +landing strip where they hid their planes when they didn't want +Mussolini's agents to trail them. That landing strip is just above the +place where the Germans are holding Allison and O'Malley." + +"In that case I'll assign you a fast bomber and an objective. You will +drop your bomb load at another spot and make a try." His eyes were +twinkling. "And if you should bring back Mussolini, I think you might +get a medal." + +They both laughed. Stan looked at his watch. "Dusk would be the time to +hit there. I can make it tonight." + +"As you like," the colonel said. "Report to me at once when you get +back. What information you gather should clear over my desk." He +grinned. "I am a bit of a politician, you see." + +Stan saluted and made off while the colonel got busy on the telephone +getting a ship assigned to him. + +When Stan reported to the briefing room he found the colonel there. The +briefing officer and his second in command gave him his locations and +his bombing data, the weather and the wind drift. Everything was very +much routine and like a hundred other sorties being made hourly over +selected targets by from one to fifty planes. The colonel walked out to +the runway with Stan. + +They shook hands like old pals. Stan smiled. The colonel was deadly +serious. + +"Landing almost on a German flying field isn't going to be a soft +touch," he said grimly. "Not even with your luck." + +Stan turned to his ship and his smile broadened. Colonel Benson had gone +to considerable trouble in selecting a bomber. The ship that stood with +idling props was a De Havilland Mosquito. She was humpbacked like a +codfish. Her forward gun opening and her nose greenhouse made her look +like a fish. They furnished eyes and mouth. She was a plywood job, +light, but the fastest bomber in the world. + +He waved a hand to the colonel and climbed up. None of the ground men +seemed interested in his lack of crew or light bomb load. In the swelter +and rush of round-the-clock operations the boys followed orders and +rushed each job out, knowing that another ship had to be on the line as +soon as one craft cleared a spot. + +Stan leaned back against the shock pad and checked his dials. He cracked +the throttle a bit more and his powerful radials roared with surging +power. The Mosquito shuddered and trembled against her chocks. + +"Ready, Flight Fifty-four?" + +"Ready," Stan called back. + +"Lane Three, Flight Fifty-four." The voice from the control tower +snapped off. + +Stan eased up and signaled the men below. The chocks were jerked loose +and Stan gunned the ship. She leaped forward with a snap that would have +done credit to any fighter craft. Darting down the runway she hoiked her +tail and was off before she had covered a fourth of the alloted space. +Upward she roared like a streak. The boys on the ground grinned. The +Mosquito got off so fast she was out of sight before any spotter could +pick her up. + +Easing around in a wide circle, Stan put her nose into the wind and let +her have her head. He settled himself to the job ahead, his pulses +beating in tune with the roar of the slip stream of air piling up and +rolling off the leading edges of his wings. A good ship, the De +Havilland. She was the craft used to make regular flights between +England and Malta. Too fast for interception, the Mosquitoes streaked +right across Hitler's Germany or across France, running supplies daily +through enemy-guarded skies. + +The coast of Italy showed clearly ahead. Slipping in over Reggio Stan +picked a rail line and checked with his eye. No need for a bombardier +here. He lined up on the track and then spotted a short string of cars. +The train was standing still and smoke lifted from its locomotive. Stan +suspected some other Yank had spotted it and laid a stick of bombs on +the track, blocking it. + +Stan knew he should cut loose his bombs and be on his way. But the feel +of the Mosquito made him eager to try her out. This was an ideal target +for the fast-flying bomber. If he went down he would be sure to stir up +German fighter planes. The temptation was great. Stan nosed over and +sent the Mosquito roaring down the chute. He lined up on the freight +train as he went. + +The landscape wavered up at him. The train seemed to be twisting and +turning like a snake trying to wiggle away, though he knew it was not +moving. The wind ahead of his diving wings piled up and banked like +invisible snow, making the plane shudder and shake. Stan grinned. Only +the Lockheed Lightning could fly a dive fast enough to bank up air like +snow; that was what he had always thought, but the diving Mosquito was +doing it. Stan began to wonder if a ship made of plywood could take the +strain of a pull-out after such a dive. + +He released his stick of bombs and the Mosquito bounced like a golf ball +before the cutting edge of a driver. Up she went and Stan set himself +against the "high G's" he had to expect. First, as he started up, there +was a blurring of vision, then a graying, and then a momentary blackout. +Instantly the graying appeared before his eyes again, then the blurring, +and a moment later clear vision. Stan whistled softly. + +"Some ship!" he muttered. "She makes anything I ever flew except the +old Lightnings look slow." + +Three Messerschmitts knifed down from a cloud, but the Mosquito was on +her way under full throttle and leaving the toe of the Italian boot at a +space-devouring pace. The Me pilots saw what they had picked up and slid +off in disgust. + +The Mosquito went up so fast that Stan could not see the results of his +attack upon the train. Heading east he caught sight of the bay of +Taranto, then turned north. Flying on the east rim of a mountain ridge +he bored along. + +Checking the miles off as best he could, Stan turned west when he +thought he was opposite Naples. He zoomed up higher and higher until he +spotted the city on the coast, then he eased around and ducked back and +up into a layer of clouds. Darkness had not settled, but he figured he +could slide in back of the ridge above the Bolero villa and spot the +hidden landing strip. + +Easing down he clipped along the tops of the trees. Three Focke-Wulf 190 +fighters spotted him and he made off, leaving them to wander above the +hill country. Returning, he zoomed along the ridge. Back and forth he +slid but failed to locate the strip. Again he was spotted and had to run +for it. The next time he came back he flew along the top of the ridge, +which caused no less than a dozen Jerry fighters to take after him. But +he spotted the hidden strip before he made off. + +Dusk was beginning to settle when he came back. This time he had to land +regardless of the fighter planes. He came in straight for the strip, +flying so low he was below the trees in many spots. He was surprised to +find that there was a natural avenue which allowed him to slide in under +fair cover. The Bolero boys had selected their secret field well. One Me +darted over to have a look, but did not dive down. Stan set himself and +cut his engines. He was coming in now, either for a landing or a crash. +Topping a row of small trees he let the Mosquito settle toward the +grassy lane below. + +The wheels of the ship tipped the grass, then settled down solidly. Stan +applied his brakes and eased into a smooth and even landing. As he +rolled in, he spotted the big trees with overhanging branches where the +Nardi fighters had been parked. Gunning the Mosquito a bit he slid +under cover just as three Me's roared past looking for him. They went on +to the east, but came back to crisscross the ridge. Stan smiled. The +German pilots seemed puzzled over the way a bomber had vanished into +thin air. + +Swinging the Mosquito around under her own power he set her in position +for a quick take-off, then began getting out his pack of rations and the +light machine gun he had brought with him. He was eager to work his way +down the bridle path before darkness settled completely. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +RESCUE + + +Stan kept under cover until he located the bridle path leading over the +ridge. The Me's were still combing the ridge above, but the woods and +the meadows were full of long shadows which made spotting a camouflaged +object impossible. + +Moving down the path Stan kept a sharp watch for guards. The pathway was +really a tunnel under the trees. Overlapping branches formed a natural +roof. This cover made the path almost pitch-dark. But Stan moved +swiftly. He wanted enough light to spot the prison where the boys were +being held. + +Reaching the opening in the hedge he discovered that someone had moved +the branches of the hedge row so that they entwined over the opening +hiding it. Standing behind the hedge he listened. Judging by the sounds, +there was plenty of activity in the camp, and Stan could see lights +shining through the wall of leaves. A motorcycle roared and a truck +motor joined it. Men's voices could be heard clearly. + +Moving along the hedge Stan peered over it. He could see into the wide +yard of the villa and also into the yards around the barns. Every +building was lighted up and the place swarmed with Germans. Stan had +never seen so many German officers in a single spot before. Groups of +them sat around outdoor tables in the back yard of the villa. They were +eating and drinking wine from the Bolero cellars. There was a lot of +shouting and laughter. + +Stan turned to the barns. He moved along them until he could see the +back yard of the big barn. Here there were a number of smaller sheds and +barns as well as the kennels. All of them were lighted and so were the +yards around them. Guards marched back and forth in front of the kennels +and before three of the sheds. Stan was certain he had located the +prisons, but there was no way of telling which one contained his pals. +One thing was certain, the Germans felt safe here at Bolero Villa. They +probably figured Allied bombers would think the place was Italian and +leave it alone. The many trees hid the trucks, cars, and German +soldiers from view. Stan grinned. When he got back, the bomber boys +would know where to drop a stick of bombs. + +This condition made it easy for Stan to observe because the guards +figured their only job was to keep the prisoners from escaping. They +were not worried about an attack. Moving around behind the kennels Stan +found darkness. He managed to wiggle up to the back wall. There were no +windows in the back of the shed. He checked the other guarded sheds and +found no windows in the rear of them. Moving back to the hedge he +crouched there watching the three buildings. + +The only way to get into any of those buildings was through the doors or +one of the front windows. The windows were open and not barred, but at +least a dozen guards patrolled the grounds. They were scattered out, +making a blitz machine-gun attack difficult. By the time Stan had +blasted the guards out of the way he would have several hundred officers +and men attacking from the grounds below. + +A soldier approached one of the guards, spoke to him, then entered one +of the buildings, a shed between the kennels and the third barn. A +light flashed on and Stan could see men inside the building. They were +packed in, standing close together, those he could see through the +window. All of them were Italian soldiers. + +After a bit the soldier came out with an Italian officer walking ahead +of him. They went directly to the grounds below. Stan eased along the +hedge until he was opposite the kennels. Here he halted and parted the +branches of the hedge. He listened intently. The prisoners in the +kennels were talking but their voices were very low. One of them laughed +and the guard at the door shouted an order in German. With the butt of +his rifle he hammered against the sill. There was silence inside and +then a voice called out: + +"Get away from that door, ye dirty spalpeen! Yer disturbin' the pleasure +o' gentlemen!" + +Stan almost shouted. That was the voice of O'Malley. The guard beat +harder upon the sill of the door and shouted louder. Stan heard Allison +warning O'Malley to keep his mouth shut. Silence settled inside the +building. + +Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The +hedge had been carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of +the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost +a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches +over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the +opening. + +The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A +floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan +watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the +entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of +three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the +whole yard. + +The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be +engineered. Suddenly Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. He had a +bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so +completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot +of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge +the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals +were being held. + +After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in +from the big barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot +where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn. +Four Germans guarded the road and they were well spaced. Again he was +blocked. + +Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in +the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high +above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came +in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly +power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned and headed into the +woods. He was looking for a power line pole. + +The job of locating a pole among a forest of trees was not easy, but +Stan had the general location from the run of the lines. After a few +minutes of hunting he located the pole and got set to climb it. He +stacked his things at the base of the pole. He would have to slide down +in a hurry and dash to the attack. He hoped there would be plenty of +confusion. He also hoped the lead-in wires were insulated. The line was +at least 220-volt, because there were three wires leading to the barn. + +Climbing up the pole Stan came to a transformer. Gingerly he tested one +of the wires with the hard rubber handle of his knife. Nothing happened, +so he started sawing away. He was not shorted by any part of the +transformer or any wire he might be touching in the darkness. The wire +was thick and heavy but it was copper and his sharp knife bit into it. +With a tug Stan severed the heavy wire and felt it go twisting away into +the darkness, which had suddenly become very black because all of the +lights in and around the villa had snapped off. + +Stan almost fell down the pole. He heard shouting and bellowing from the +yard. Shots were fired and flashlights began to stab back and forth. +Stan grabbed his machine gun and leaped into the road leading to the +small barns. Suddenly the machine gun under the tree opened up. The +Germans knew a prison delivery attempt was on. Stan halted and pulled a +grenade from the sack slung over his shoulder. Jerking the pin, he +tossed it just as he had often tossed a forward pass in a football game. + +A sharp roar and a flash of fire told him the grenade had gone off, and +the sudden ceasing of the staccato voice of the machine gun told him he +had scored a hit. He did not have time to look as he charged toward the +kennels. He ran into a German and knocked the soldier down with the +barrel of his machine gun. Reaching the door he came to grips with three +Germans. They had an electric lantern and they spotted him closing in, +but not quick enough. Stan's tommy-gun blasted them off the wide stone +flagging before the door. + +"Hi, Allison! O'Malley!" Stan hit the door with his shoulder in a +leaping dive. He went crashing into the room with the door draped around +him. + +"Stan!" O'Malley roared from the darkness. + +"Here! Get close to me and follow me!" Stan shouted as he staggered to +his feet. + +Outside, the flaming and the sound of Stan's tommy-gun had given away +his location. Rifles and pistols began blasting away. Bullets splintered +the front of the building. + +"Get down low!" Allison called. + +A dozen men had rushed out of the kennels, carrying Stan with them. He +heard a man groan and go down as a bullet hit him. + +"Here!" he bellowed. + +O'Malley and Allison located him. They knew just about where he was +headed. Wiggling along on their hands and knees, the three fliers moved +to the hole in the hedge. + +They slid through and, paused. "Where's Tony and Arno?" Stan asked. + +"In the shed next to ours," Allison answered. "They were captured the +day we were shot down." + +"Sure, an' if you'll wait I'll go beat down the door," O'Malley +whispered. + +"We'll all go," Stan answered. "We'll batter open both prisons." + +The three, keeping close together, circled and charged into the mass of +milling Germans. They were not spotted because there was little light. +Flashlight beams stabbed here and there, but none of the fingers of +light found the three Yanks. They actually shouldered their way to +within a few yards of the first door. + +"I'll take this one, you and O'Malley take the other. I'll clear the way +with the tommy-gun," Stan hissed. + +He opened up with a burst of fire which scattered the Germans, then +charged the door. O'Malley and Allison smashed the other door. Stan +heard the shouts of the prisoners as they piled out. He backed away as +men lunged out of the building he had opened. Stan thanked his luck +that the doors had been built out of light plywood. He leaped aside and +turned his submachine gun on the Germans. He swung his arc of fire +across the yard and sent the Nazis charging for cover. + +Ceasing his fire he ducked for the hole in the hedge. Allison was +already there, but O'Malley had not showed up. + +"Hope he hasn't gotten any crazy ideas," Stan growled. + +"He probably has," Allison said. "How'd you douse the lights?" + +"I cut the main line, but they'll locate the break and fix it in a +hurry." + +Suddenly they heard O'Malley coming. He ducked through the hedge. Behind +him came two other men. O'Malley had stayed to locate Tony and Arno. + +"How did you find us?" Tony asked excitedly. + +"Allison got someone to smuggle out a note. I have a bomber up on your +secret field to take us off, if we can get up there," Stan answered. +"It's so dark, I don't know whether we can locate the path." + +Arno laughed softly. "We will lead you and we will show you how to take +off in the dark." + +"I'm glad you're along," Stan said. + +Arno led the way up the trail. He moved along at a fast pace. He knew +every twist and turn in the trail. The Yanks were hard put to keep up +with him. Tony brought up the rear, which helped to keep the party +together. + +They reached the little meadow that served as a runway. Arno led them +straight to the hidden parking ground. Here they halted under the wing +of the Mosquito. + +"What you flying?" O'Malley asked. + +"A Mosquito bomber," Stan answered. + +"One o' them wood crates?" O'Malley asked. He did not try to hide his +disgust. + +Stan laughed. "And I'm flying her, see? I wouldn't ride in as fast and +tricky a ship as this Mosquito with you at the controls." + +"I'll bet me auld grandmother could fly as fast," O'Malley said. + +"The lights are on below," Arno broke in. "I hear German soldiers coming +up the slope through the woods." + +"They have a big force down there," Allison said. "I'll bet they comb +this mountainside." + +"We'll never be able to take off as black as it is," Stan said. "We'll +have to wait for the first light so we can see something." + +"By that time the Germans will have found the ship. See the lights +flashing in the woods below?" Tony spoke sharply. + +Arno laughed. "Now I will show you how we took off on black nights. Will +your bomber lift in a hurry?" + +"Faster than a Nardi fighter," Stan said. + +"Wait. I will show you," Arno said and disappeared into the blackness. + +"We have done it many times," Tony said, laughing. + +Arno was gone only a few minutes. When he returned he explained: + +"First we roll the ship out from under the trees by hand if we can." + +"That will be easy. There is a downgrade and the Mosquito is light +weight," Stan said. + +"Then we get the engines warm enough to take off." Arno paused. + +"That will take a little time. We may have to stand off the Germans," +Stan said. + +"When the engines are hot I will place two blue flares with a red one in +the middle for a target. It is so easy. You head for the red flare and +take off before you get to it." + +"Good work. You have the flares?" Allison asked. + +"We keep a supply here," Arno said. "I will place them. When you shout +to me that the engines are ready, I will light them. Then I come running +and we take off." + +"'Tis very simple," O'Malley said eagerly. "Sure, an' we better get her +rolled out." + +The boys got hold of the Mosquito and rolled her out. Arno made off to +set his flares. Before the boys piled in, Stan handed his tommy-gun to +Allison. "You're an artist with this sort of banjo. You stay on the +ground. If any German squads show up, you chase them back into the +woods." + +"Good idea, old boy," Allison said as he took the gun. + +Stan went up and wound up the radial motors. They coughed and sputtered +but finally took hold, first with a rumbling gallop that was uneven, +then with a smoother roar. The sound of those powerful radials shook the +night air. Stan knew their full-throated exhausts could be heard by the +Germans. + +Flashes of light winked in the woods below, Stan judged that the German +squads were not over two hundred yards down the slope. Some might be +even farther up the hill. He tested the engines with a jerk of the +throttle. They bogged down and sputtered, too cold to take off. + +Suddenly rifle fire broke out across the open meadow. The Germans were +firing at the flaring exhaust flames from the Mosquito's engines. +Bullets whistled past the ship. Allison opened up and the firing from +the woods ceased. Suddenly a machine gun began to blast. Its bullets +ripped into the ship and around it. Stan gunned the engines and they +caught, bursting into a perfect and unbroken stream of power. + +On the ground Allison could tell by the sound of the engines that the +ship was ready. He began shouting to Arno. Stan throttled down to allow +Allison's shouts to carry. + +Suddenly a flare blossomed. A few minutes later another flamed. Stan +waited impatiently for what seemed a long time. He could tell by the +stabs of flame from the rifles across the meadow that the Germans were +charging down upon Arno. Then the red flare burst into flame. Stan fixed +the spot in his mind, just in case a German got to the flare and put it +out. Allison was blistering the Germans rushing down upon Arno, but the +distance was too great for a tommy-gun. + +Stan kicked the motors on, setting his brakes hard. The attackers were +now fanned out and charging across the meadow. Allison could not halt +them because they had spread out thinly over a wide front. + +"Should we leave Arno?" Tony asked. "He would want more than anything +else that you men got away." + +"We're not leavin' him!" O'Malley shouted. "I'll get down an' go help +him. He may have been hit by a bullet." + +"No, we won't leave him," Stan agreed grimly. + +Suddenly Allison climbed up. "They'll be on us in a minute!" he shouted. + +"Here comes the boy!" O'Malley bellowed. + +Arno's head appeared in the circle of light from the instrument panel. +Allison gave him a hand, dragging him into the cockpit. + +Before the trap could be closed Stan gave the Mosquito her head. She +shot away like an arrow released from a bow as her brakes eased free. +Straight at the stabbing tongues of rifle fire she roared. The firing +ceased as the Germans leaped frantically out of the path of the charging +bomber. + +Stan held her straight for the red flare. Long before they reached it he +hoiked her tail and bounced her off. She went up like a kite caught by a +gale. O'Malley, sitting beside Stan, looked over and grinned. + +"That was sweet!" he shouted. + +"You haven't seen anything yet!" Stan shouted back. He leaned toward +O'Malley, "Have Allison get the radio set working." + +A few minutes later Allison had established long-range communications +with the base at Messina and was reporting in. O'Malley went back to put +in an order for three huckleberry pies and a steak. Arno took his place. +Stan was letting the Mosquito cruise along. He leaned toward Arno. + +"What about the general?" + +"The Germans have him. He is a prisoner at Naples," Arno said in a +worried voice. + +"We'll take care of that. We're taking Naples very soon," Stan assured +him. + +"I'm afraid that may not help much. The Germans are in a fury over the +action we have taken. They will take revenge not only upon Father, but +upon the people of Naples and of every city they have occupied." Arno +looked straight ahead into the night. + +"We'll figure out something," Stan said grimly. + +O'Malley came forward and sat back of Stan. Stan called over his +shoulder. + +"I am to deliver you fellows to Colonel Benson." + +"Colonel Benson!" O'Malley yelped. "Sure an' that means we'll spend the +rest o' the war in the guardhouse!" + +"That's the safest place for you," Stan retorted. + +Allison called forward over the intercommunication phone that the +colonel sent his regards and that he had personally ordered O'Malley's +pies and steak for him. O'Malley listened in. He began to grin. + +"Sure, an' mebby the old brass hat has some feelin's after all." + +"Don't build up any false hopes," Stan warned. + +"Did he send you after us?" O'Malley demanded. + +"He did," Stan said. + +O'Malley leaned back and licked his lips. He closed his eyes so as to be +better able to get a mental picture of the pies awaiting him. + +Stan eased down a bit and called to Allison for a check on their +location and course. Everything looked fine and fair, but Stan knew that +it was at such times that trouble usually popped. + +Messina was easily located as they came in at low altitude because the +Yank and British batteries on the island were shelling the German-held +port of Reggio across the two-mile strait. Flares were blossoming along +the mainland, dropped by Yank fliers. Allison got in touch with their +field and they came in. The air traffic was heavy and the field was a +beehive of activity. No special attention was given the De Havilland +except by the crew assigned to take her over. They came racing out to +make her fast. + +The master mechanic grinned at Stan as he jumped down. "Good work, sir," +he said eagerly. The Mosquito was his pet and he had worried about her +all the time she was away. After finding out where she was going he had +been sure she would never get back. + +Stan smiled at him. "She's home without a scratch, and she's a great +ship, sergeant," he said. + +The sergeant beamed happily. "She sure is, sir," he agreed proudly. Then +he added, just having remembered the important message he was to deliver +to the bomber's skipper, "Colonel Benson wishes to see your entire crew +as soon as you land." He snapped a salute and turned to his crew. + +"Sure, an' I'm starved. I'm hopin' he won't give us a two-hour lecture +on how to invade Italy," O'Malley grumbled. + +They hurried to the colonel's headquarters, where they found their +commanding officer waiting for them. He beamed upon the dirty, unshaven +group headed by Stan. + +"I'll only keep you a few minutes, gentlemen," he said. "Be seated." + +Stan saluted smartly and spoke his piece. "I'd like you to meet General +Bolero's sons, Tony and Arno. They made it possible for us to deliver +the papers from the general and later to escape." + +"What you have done is appreciated. I hope I may be able to be of +service to you," the colonel said. + +"We wish to fight the Germans. We are both pilots," Arno said. + +"I believe that can be arranged," Colonel Benson said. + +He looked at Allison and O'Malley and a broad smile formed on his lips. + +"I have heard of the luck of the Irish. Now I am willing to add the +British to that list. What I wanted to say is that you are requested not +to talk about your experiences at all until you have reported to +headquarters in Malta. After that you will be returned to my command. No +one is going to talk me out of three fliers like you men." He looked at +Tony and Arno. "Possibly I might be able to make it five." + +O'Malley seemed to feel this was a soft spot where he could safely make +a request. He grinned at the colonel. + +"We have a job to do, sor, one that won't wait very long." + +The colonel's smile faded and he eyed O'Malley sternly. "I'm listening," +he said warily. + +"General Bolero has to be rescued from them Germans. They may decide to +shoot him." + +The colonel looked suddenly very unhappy, "That is really a job I am not +supposed to handle. After all, I am only a sector commander and not in +charge of the war in the Mediterranean area." + +"It could be done aisy," O'Malley said. "I'd like to have the job." + +The colonel regarded O'Malley grimly. "I don't doubt but you would do +it. However, there is some little risk. While you men are reporting to +headquarters, Lieutenant Wilson and I will be giving the matter our +consideration." He got to his feet. "Wilson, you see that our friends +are outfitted. Get cleaned up and have a big feed." He nodded toward +O'Malley. "I have set aside a supply of pie for you, Lieutenant." + +The party saluted and made off. O'Malley was not too happy. "If you +sneak off alone to get the general, I'll thrash the daylights out o' +you when I get back from seein' the brass hats," he growled. + +"I won't take on the whole German army alone," Stan assured him. "I'll +see that you're in on it." + +"You better," O'Malley warned sourly. + +They found their quarters and all headed for the showers. O'Malley +wanted to eat first but they talked him out of the idea. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SALERNO + + +Events moved rapidly for Stan during the next day or so. General +Montgomery's Eighth Army was driving up the toe of the Italian boot, +while General Clarke's Fifth Yank army was having a tough time holding +its bridgehead at Salerno. Stan was tickled when O'Malley and Allison +returned. Arno and Tony came with them. + +Colonel Benson called the boys to his headquarters. He was a very busy +man. He was working twenty hours a day and lines of weariness furrowed +his face. His fighters and bombers were at last masters of the air over +Salerno, but they got no rest after their victory. The Germans were +entrenched in specially prepared spots on high ground overlooking the +beaches. Artillery positions had to be blasted, and the repeated tank +attacks had to be checked or the Fifth's landing force would be blasted +into the sea. + +The boys entered the colonel's office. He nodded toward chairs. When +they were seated, he turned to Stan. + +"Have you any plans for the rescue of General Bolero? We need his +knowledge of military positions behind the German lines." + +Stan looked at Arno. "The plans are really Lieutenant Arno Bolero's," he +began. "Arno and Tony are familiar with every foot of the country where +their father is being held. He is a prisoner in a house once owned by +Don Sachetti. The Sachetti family and the Bolero family were very close +friends. Arno and Tony have spent many days at their home. If they can +go with us, we will have a chance of success." + +"They can go. Now what is your plan?" the colonel glanced at his wrist +watch. He was to have a conference with high officers in five minutes. + +"We will take one De Havilland plane. Four of us will parachute into a +field at night. Here, again, the boys will know just where to land to +hit a field of grain the Germans are saving for harvesting. The plane +will return to base and come after us the next night. If we do not set +signal flares for landing, the plane will retire and keep watch until +forced to fly home. It will return the next night and if we do not +signal it then, it is not to try again." + +Colonel Benson looked from one to the other of the boys. "I understand +you men are accustomed to such dangerous jobs. To me it seems there is +about one chance in a hundred of your even landing your parachute +force." + +"If there was an attack on the German field south of the place about the +time we arrive, we could get in easily," Stan suggested. "I have +prepared a set of maps showing good targets. The Bolero house is a hotel +for German officers." + +"I'll have operations chart a raid," the colonel promised. "Now I have +to go. Lieutenant Wilson will be in command. I have given orders to have +him supplied with what he wants." He stepped around the table and shook +hands with the boys. "I'm leaving this show up to you fellows. Good luck +to you." He turned and hurried out of the room. + +"Sure, an' that's the first time the brass hats iver turned us loose," +O'Malley said with a big grin. + +"And it will likely be the last time," Allison said with a chuckle. + +"We'd better be getting over to operations. Now, who's flying the +Mosquito?" Stan looked from Allison to O'Malley. + +O'Malley swallowed eagerly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he +turned to Allison. Allison grinned at him. + +"You fly the crate, old man. I'm one blighter who wants to get even for +some of the slaps and kicks we got in that prison dog house." + +"Sure, an' I'll be after flyin' her," O'Malley said. "But only because +I'm thinkin' ye'll be needin' the best pilot in this crew at the +controls o' that ship." + +"You hate yourself, don't you?" Stan teased. "You fly her, but just +remember, if you get into a dogfight and don't show up when we set off +our flares, you'll get the beating of your life when we walk in." He +grinned at O'Malley. + +"I'll be right there," O'Malley promised. + +All of the details had been worked out and gone over so many times by +the boys that they did not need to check again. They drew the machine +guns and grenades they needed along with flares and other equipment. +The supply officer got blue parachutes for them from an operating unit. + +"Can't be spotted at night," he explained. + +Evening was closing in by the time they had everything set. The Mosquito +was warmed up and ready. She was stripped down for carrier purposes and +to enable her to handle an extra gasoline tank. The ground crews gave +her a final once-over, waved to her crew, and backed off. Stan sat up +front in the copilot's seat to see that O'Malley was not teased into a +fight. Allison and the Bolero brothers manned the machine guns. + +O'Malley was a bit skeptical about the powers of the De Havilland, in +spite of what Stan had told him. He gunned her and gave her her head. +When she snapped off the ground in a manner that would have done credit +to a Lightning, he began to grin and mumble to himself. + +"Just don't get any wild ideas," Stan warned. They had sighted a flight +of Focke-Wulf 190 fighters and O'Malley was eying the Germans with a +dangerous gleam in his eye. + +"If they run in on us, ye can't blame me," he said sourly. + +The 190 fighters tried a run at the De Havilland, but she ran away from +them before they could begin to cut her off. + +"She's so fast she keeps out of trouble," O'Malley said in disgust. + +"That's just what she was built for. Every night her sisters keep Berlin +awake with bombing attacks, and every night they fly materials and +dispatches from England to Malta. This is something you've overlooked, +Irisher." Stan chided O'Malley. + +"I may be after lookin' into her doings one o' these days. Spendin' +ivery other evenin' in London wouldn't be so bad," O'Malley decided. + +Heading north they eased across the backbone of the peninsula which the +Germans had not taken the trouble to occupy in any numbers. They moved +along while darkness settled. Arno and Tony kept a close check on +landmarks. Finally Arno called up to Stan over the phone. + +"We can head west again. I have located the ridge and the mountain we +will use as a marker." + +O'Malley headed the Mosquito west, letting her ease down to low +altitude. Arno called in directions. + +"We are coming to the divide. There we will follow the ridge north." + +O'Malley followed instructions. As they swept up the ridge they saw +below them a great fire, with several smaller fires breaking out near +by. + +"Colonel Benson's boys have hit the flying field," Stan observed to +O'Malley. + +"Sure, an' I think they're over the Bolero place right now." O'Malley +jerked his head to the right. At that moment Tony's voice came in over +the intercom. + +"The bombers are attacking the villa." He tried not to show his +feelings, but the boys knew how he felt. His home was being blasted. + +"The whole German staff for this area ought to be down there at this +hour," Stan answered. "It's tough, but we have to do it." + +"I know," Tony agreed. "If the boys catch even half the staff there, +I'll be satisfied." + +"Now head west again, very low," Arno ordered. + +O'Malley swept lower over the darkening terrain. Stan began to wonder +how Arno was going to spot any landmarks. Hopping out into the night +would not be so nice. There were lakes and woods and rocky ridges all +over the country. + +"Into the valley a point left," Arno called. "Fly low and line up on two +peaks with square tops which should be against the sky." + +O'Malley and Stan peered ahead as the Mosquito dropped into a wide +valley. + +"There's yer peaks," O'Malley said. Stan spotted the markers as his pal +spoke. Two peaks with square tops loomed against the sky ahead. + +"Regular gunsights," Stan said. + +"Get everything ready to jump," Arno called. + +Stan slapped O'Malley on the shoulder. "Be seein' you soon," he said as +he slid back to help with the guns and other things they were taking +along. + +He found the boys getting set. Tony was loaded and ready to jump. Arno +was spotting his markers. + +"Go!" he called. + +Tony unloaded through the open hatch and disappeared into the blue +blackness, followed closely by Allison. Arno nodded to Stan and Stan +piled out. As he went down into the cool night he slid his hand to the +rip cord. They were jumping from low altitude and there was no time for +free falling. He pulled the cord and felt his chute open and snap him +into suspension. A shadowy form above him and very close told him that +Arno had wasted no time in following him out of the ship. + +Stan adjusted his pack and his tommy-gun for a landing. Peering down, he +saw the field they were to land on. At first he thought Arno had missed +and dropped them over a lake. He could dimly see what looked like +rippling waves. Then his feet touched waving grain and he eased up on +the cords to make his landing. A split second later he was down in a +field of tall and ripening grain. Wadding his chute up he drew in a deep +breath. The field reminded him of Kansas with its rich, ripe smells. + +A low whistle off to his right indicated one of the boys was asking for +a location. Stan gave a bird call and listened. He got three answers and +heard his pals working their way toward him. Twice more he gave the +assembly signal. Then he noticed that the sky above and over toward the +twin peaks was lighting up with streaks and points of light. Tracers +were arcing up and over, in and out. Grimly Stan watched. Night +fighters had tackled O'Malley. He watched the battle, following the +action by the tracers and the bursts of cannonfire. Suddenly one of the +planes broke into flame. Like a torch it twisted earthward. + +"Could have been a Messerschmitt," Arno spoke close beside Stan. + +"It burned up like a plywood job," Allison's voice said. He spoke in his +usual unruffled drawl. + +"O'Malley never would run from a fight," Stan said grimly. + +"This time I think he ran," Tony cut in. + +Allison laughed. "You just don't know O'Malley, old man." + +"No matter what happened to O'Malley we have to get going. Lead on, +Arno," Stan ordered. There was no use in going sour over what might be a +tough battle. They had plenty of work to do. + +Arno led the way out of the wheat field. He located a thick woods and +they entered it. A few minutes of walking through tangled bushes brought +them out on a pathway. + +"This is the trail to the orchard," Arno whispered to Tony. + +"There is another trail branching off, the one we used to follow when we +went swimming in the little lake below the hill," Tony said. + +"That one we must find," Arno answered as he moved on. + +The boys had their packs swung high on their backs. Their tommy-guns +were held ready. If the night fighters who had jumped O'Malley had +spotted the parachutes they would have given an alarm. Arno seemed to be +thinking about this. He moved carefully, pausing to listen every few +yards. + +Tony was bringing up the rear. He called softly to Arno. "Here is the +trail, you passed it." + +They halted and went back. Arno checked the cross trail. + +"Yes, this is the trail," he said. + +He headed off to the right and they followed. Coming to the top of a +little hill they saw lights below, dim and shaded lights, but many of +them. + +"That is the house," Arno said. + +"How far is it?" Stan asked. + +"About a kilometer," Arno answered. + +"Less than a mile to go. What's in between?" Stan asked. + +"There is a settlement where the Sachetti farm workers used to live. I +see lights down there." Arno was bending forward, peering into the +night. + +"And I hear cars and trucks," Allison added. "I'll bet the Germans have +a repair depot or an assembly point down there." + +"In that case the half mile between the settlement and the house will be +filled with Germans," Tony said. + +"One way to find out. Lead on," Stan ordered. + +The little group moved slowly down the trail. After a couple of halts +Arno paused and pulled the boys close to him. + +"I think it best to leave the trail. Just a little way ahead it opens +into a roadway. There we should certainly run into outposts." + +"We better go on until we locate them," Stan said. + +"If you think that is the best way," Arno agreed. + +"I'll walk ahead with you," Stan said. + +They moved along very slowly, stopping every few feet to listen. Finally +they heard guttural voices in the darkness ahead. Halting, they +listened. Allison moved forward a little to try to overhear what was +said. Soon he came back. + +"This is the outpost," he whispered. "Six men and two machine guns. They +are about to change guards." He chuckled. "And they do not expect us." + +"Can we move around them?" Stan asked. + +"We could, but I think we should stay. An officer is coming out to +inspect the guard. He's coming from Villa Sachetti." Stan could almost +see Allison's sardonic smile. "Nice spot for a surprise party, eh?" + +"Swell," Stan answered. "We'll take over the post. Allison can be the +decoy to lure the officer in close. He speaks German." + +"Good, very good," Arno said eagerly. "Will we use the short knives on +them?" + +"No shooting if we can help it. We'll shove in close and have a look." +Stan began moving down the pathway with Allison at his side. The party +kept very close together so as to be able to give signals to each other +without speaking. + +After edging forward a short distance they were halted by a gruff laugh +ahead. Getting down low they peered through the starlight and spotted +the sentries. They were grouped close together, four seated, two +standing. The two men standing up moved off, one to the left and one to +the right. Stan got his crew into a close huddle. + +"Allison and I will do our commando stuff on the two guards walking +post. I take the one on the right, Allison the other. You boys stay +right here. We'll be back soon." Stan spoke in a low whisper. + +One of the seated Germans suddenly sprang to his feet. He stood looking +into the night toward the party of raiders. Tony started to move +forward. Stan pulled him back. The German walked up the pathway a few +feet and halted, listening. The boys turned their faces away and +remained perfectly still. After a minute or so the man went back and sat +down. Stan gave Allison a signal and they moved off the pathway. They +left their tommy-guns and carried only their pistols, knives, and short +lengths of rope. + +Stan moved silently along in a direction that would cut across the beat +walked by the sentry. Soon he spotted his man moving at a slow walk +along what appeared to be a pathway. Stan moved in and halted beside a +bush. There he remained without moving a muscle. The sentry had reached +the end of his beat and was turning back. Stan ducked his head to make +sure no light was reflected from his face. Tensing his muscles he +waited. + +The sentry seemed to be enjoying the night. He sauntered along, his +rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder. The barrel missed Stan's head +by inches as the man brushed past the bushes where he stood. +Straightening, Stan leaned far forward, his arm shot out and encircled +the man's neck. At the same time his knee came up through the bushes in +a smashing blow. The expert application of Stan's arm and the blow in +the spine knocked the German limp at once. He did not struggle and he +could not cry out. Stan dragged him back into the bushes, hurriedly +gagged and bound him. + +Moving swiftly back to the pathway he came upon the boys. Allison was +already back, kneeling with Tony and Arno. + +"Fast work," Stan whispered softly. + +"He was a rotten soldier," Allison answered. "He sat down and started +removing one boot." + +"We'll close in fast but without noise. I have a hunch we'll get a +break. If two of the men should start out to check the men we disposed +of, Allison and I will take them out. You boys take the other two. Make +sure they don't get a chance to yell." + +"They will not yell," Arno promised grimly. + +The four raiders moved in on their hands and knees. They halted only a +few yards from the four men. Here they waited. Finally one of the men +got up and called. He listened, then challenged his sentries again. When +there was no answer he caught up a rifle, snapped an order to one of the +others, and headed off down the picket line. + +Instantly Allison slithered away into the night. One of the others got +to his feet grumbling loudly. He caught his rifle up and held it at +ready as he moved off. Stan was after him at once. + +Before Stan had overtaken the guard, having allowed him to get down the +pathway a little distance, so as not to arouse the two left behind, he +heard sounds of scuffling. Arno and Tony had not waited. They were in +action. + +Stan leaped in upon the guard just as the fellow whirled around. He +knocked up the man's gun and closed with him. The German shouted once +before Stan could get a strangle hold upon him, then he went down, +struggling wildly. He was a burly fellow with powerful arms and thick +legs. Stan was not sure that he could hold the headlock he had slid down +into a strangle grip. + +They flopped and thrashed around until Stan finally worked behind the +German and put on more pressure. After that the fellow wilted in short +order. Stan was binding and gagging him when Arno came running to help +him. + +"Did we act too quickly?" he asked in great excitement. + +"A bit fast," Stan admitted, "but I have him now. He was a tough +customer." Stan rolled the sentry into a clump of bushes and faced Arno. +"How did Tony make out?" + +"Fine, very fine. Tony hates all Germans." Arno laughed quietly. + +They moved back to the guard station and found Allison and Tony there. +One glance at the two sentries Arno and Tony had silenced told Stan they +would not have to be bound or gagged. The boys had used their knives +expertly. + +"Now about the reception committee?" Allison queried softly. + +"We need four helmets. I have one and there are two on the ground. Get +one more," Stan ordered. + +"I have it," Allison answered. "On my head." + +Sure enough, Allison was wearing a German helmet. "You boys know what +the Germans will do with us if they catch us wearing even one of their +helmets?" Stan asked. + +"The firing squad," Arno answered as he slipped one on his head. + +"If the inspector's car has its lights on bright we'll have to get down. +Arno and I will be out on each side as though on beat. Allison will have +to make up a challenge that will pass." + +"I have their password," Allison answered. "Got it from the man who +brought up word of the inspection. He gave it to get up to the post." + +"The Germans are not so smart," Tony said. "They are fools to warn their +soldiers of a coming inspection." + +Allison laughed. "The man who came up was a pal of the squad. He was +tipping them off." + +"There's a car coming up the road," Stan warned. "Use your tommy-guns to +cover them, but no shooting unless we have to fight it out." + +He and Arno moved into the darkness, leaving Allison and Tony seated on +the bench which had been used by the Germans. + +"There ought to be four of us here," Tony said. + +"I don't think that will make any difference," Allison said. "They'll +think the others are out on the beat." + +The car came up the gentle slope slowly. It did not have its bright +lights on. The slit in the headlight hood gave only a meager amount of +light and did not show more than ten feet ahead of the car. Allison +moved several paces down the road and shouted an order in German. + +The car halted and Allison shouted again, making his voice gruff. He got +the password and snapped permission to advance. The car charged forward +in a surge of speed that made Allison leap aside. + +From the darkness beside the road Stan had moved in. He saw that there +were three men in the car, counting the driver. He also saw the shadowy +form of Arno closing in on the other side. A tall officer climbed out. +He snapped an order at Allison. Allison backed away a few steps to allow +the other two officers to get out. Stan had moved up and Arno had a gun +barrel shoved into the neck of the driver. Tony leaped forward with his +gun ready. + +"Get your hands up!" he snapped and Allison gave the same order in +German at the same instant. + +Startled grunts came from the three officers. One of them reached for +his pistol. Allison's gun barrel came down over his head and the officer +pitched forward. The other two elevated their hands. + +The boys closed in and took away the men's side arms. They helped +themselves to caps and light topcoats and belts, then they bound and +gagged the officers. The ranking officer, a colonel, was furious. Until +the gag stopped his mouth he poured forth a stream of angry abuse. + +With the officers laid out far back in the bushes, Arno donned the +driver's cap and jacket. They were ready for the real adventure, +cracking the gates of the German prison camp. + +"You know the roads, so you take over, Arno," Stan said. + +"Shall we drive right through and into the front yard of the big house?" +Arno asked. + +"Is there a back yard?" Stan asked. + +"A very spacious one, but with a high stone fence around it and only one +gate, though it is a very wide gate," Arno answered. + +"There is the stone passageway to the wine cellars," Tony put in. + +"We don't want to be caught in any wine cellar," Allison answered. + +"We have to figure on fast work. The dirty work we've done here will be +discovered within a few hours, then they'll be after us," Stan said. + +"I know the house and I think I know the spot where prisoners will be +held. The Germans always take the best rooms for themselves. I think +they will hold my father in the servants quarters at the back of the +house. I have even decided which room he will be given. There is one +having no running water and very little light." + +"We'll have a look there first," Stan said. "If we park in the back +we'll be near to those rooms?" + +"Yes," Arno answered. "We can reach them through a narrow hallway +without entering the main part of the house." + +"O.K., driver, move on." + +Arno started the car and they rolled down the road at a fast pace. Stan +could not see the road but Arno knew every turn. They soon swung into a +long driveway and headed toward a big stone gate with machine gunners at +each side. Sentries armed with rifles paced back and forth across the +opening. + +"Here goes!" Stan snapped. "Try your German on the boys. If you flop, we +start shooting our way in." + +Arno charged up in the best German manner of driving an official car. +The heavy machine guns on each side of the gate converged on the car and +one of the sentries bellowed an order. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +NIGHT RAID + + +Arno did not put on his brakes until he had forced the guards at the +gate back two paces. Allison leaned out over the door, his cap pulled +down over his eyes. He bellowed loudly in German, blurring a string of +words together and winding up with the password from the outside post. +He was taking a chance that that was the password for the whole area. + +The guards backed away, presented arms, and jerked into stiff positions +of attention. Arno lost no time in shooting the car through the gates. +They entered a shadowy courtyard where the light was dim. The Yank raid +on Bolero Villa, just over the hill, had caused every post in the +vicinity to be blacked out. + +"We are under the window of the room," Arno said in a low voice. + +"There's a guard down the wall a ways," Allison said. "I'll give you +fellows a calling-down in German to make the guard think I'm really on +the warpath, then we'll march right in." + +"Perhaps I had better try the window while you are trying the door," +Tony said. "You might have trouble. There will be plenty of light +inside." + +Allison raised his voice and began berating the boys in German. +"_Schwinehund!_" he bellowed and followed that up with other choice +words of abuse. He had a bright idea and added that he was going to find +the man who had handled the blackout. He said he could see light from +the back hallway all the way out to the road. + +Instantly they heard the guard moving toward the back door. + +"Now's our chance," Allison whispered. "I said we could see light from +the back hallway. We'll make them douse the lights." + +They headed toward the back door and stomped up the wide steps. The +guard opened the door and they saw that the hallway was dark. Allison +roared at the fellow and he came to a stiff salute, presenting arms. + +"General Bolero," Allison snapped. "We would speak to him." + +The boys did not understand, but they caught the general's name and had +an idea. The guard protested but Allison thrust several papers at him. +He had taken the papers from the officer's pocket but had no idea what +they were. When the man started to use a pocket flashlight to read the +papers, Allison smashed the light out of his hand, roaring at him about +the blackout. + +The soldier was thoroughly cowed. He turned and started down the hallway +with the boys close behind him. Tony had found the window barred on the +outside and had joined the others. He nudged Stan as they halted before +a door. It was the very room Arno had said his father would be kept in. + +The guard unlocked the door. As it opened, a flood of light shone over +the men. The general's window had been boarded up, so he was allowed a +light. He was sitting at a little table writing. Stan did not wait to +see any more. He knew the guard was wise the moment he saw the raiders +in the bright light. Their shoes and trousers gave them away as well as +their faces. Stan had moved along very close to the guard. His arm went +out in a perfect commando attack and before the guard had time to shout +he was silenced and heaved into the room. + +In an instant Tony was across the room and in his father's arms. Arno +stood beside them gripping one of the general's arms. The general looked +over Tony's shoulder at Stan and Allison. + +"I am honored," he said. + +"Turn out the light," Stan ordered. + +The general shoved Tony aside and switched off the light. "You have +taken greater chances than you should. I am hardly worth the effort." + +When he had ceased speaking they listened. Several men were moving down +the hall, talking in angry voices. + +"That is the commandant of this post. I know his voice. He has with him +a number of his officers," the general said in a low voice. + +"They'll wonder where the other guard is," Stan said. "We better jerk +the boards off that window and get out of here." + +"That cannot be done," the general said. "They are planks, not boards, +and they are spiked to the outside of the house." + +Allison had opened the door a crack. "They have turned on the light. +There's five of them, and they seem excited." + +"How far down the hallway?" Stan asked. + +"At the door," Allison answered. + +The voice of one of the men lifted as he shouted an order. "He's calling +in a squad of armed men from the gate," Allison said. + +"It seems we are trapped," Arno said grimly. + +"Can we go out the front way?" Stan snapped, turning to Tony. + +"Yes. There is a side door and a front door. But we can't get back to +our car because of the walls around the back plaza." + +"Our tommy-guns and grenades are in the car," Allison said. + +"We'll have to chance it and move fast. Lead off." Stan reached for the +doorknob. Opening the door a little way he looked out. The five officers +were standing in the doorway down the hall looking out into the night. + +Stan stepped out, whipping his Colt from its holster as he went. "Down +the hall!" he hissed. "Lead them, Tony. I'll cover your retreat." + +The raiders and the general moved out and started down the hall. They +had taken only a few steps, when one of the officers at the door turned +around. He let out a startled shout. The others whirled. Stan covered +them with his Colt. The distance was a full thirty feet, good shooting +range for the forty-five. + +"Get your hands up!" Stan snapped. The bore of his gun wavered over the +stomachs of the officers and came to rest on a spot between the eyes of +the colonel. + +Amazement showed on the faces of the Germans, then hatred and fury. + +"Fools!" the colonel grated. "You will all be shot as soon as the alarm +is sounded." + +Stan was moving backward. He grinned at the colonel and made a good +bluff. His free hand slid into the pocket of his coat. "Perhaps," he +said loudly. "But I have a grenade here, an American-made grenade. You +know how much damage they do. I'm going to toss it right where you are +standing just as soon as I get to the corner." + +He knew at once that he had scored a hit. The Germans knew that tossing +a grenade in just that manner was the way Rangers and Commandos worked. +Three of the men, those in the doorway, dived out into the night where +they began shouting. The colonel and one other officer edged toward the +door. Stan reached the corner and made a motion to jerk his hand out of +his pocket. The two Germans dived for the door. + +"Whirling, Stan raced down the hall. He was passing a door when a hand +reached out and jerked him into a dark room or hall, he could not tell +which. Allison's voice hissed: + +"Inside, we're going up on the roof." Stan heard the door slam and all +was dark. "Tony knows how to go through a French window in this room out +to a trellis. We climb the vines." + +"But the general, he's pretty heavy," Stan said. + +"The boys are boosting him up right now." Allison was dragging Stan +across the room. + +They went through the window and saw the stars above. Dark shapes loomed +against the wall of the house where vines climbed up to the eaves. Stan +and Allison started up the trellis. They could hear General Bolero +puffing and grunting as Tony and Arno helped him climb upward. + +Stan looked down and saw the top of the garden wall. "I'm going down +after some grenades and a submachine gun," he hissed. Before Allison +could stop him he had swung over the wall and was dangling in space. The +vines ended at the wall and Stan could not see what was below. He took a +chance and cut loose. + +Stan was lucky. He landed on top of a canvas-covered van. The padding +dulled the thud of his landing. He sat up and listened. The yard below +was filled with shouting and yelling. Boots pounded as men ran across +the hard ground. Doors slammed and someone fired a pistol. Stan whistled +but got no answer. Then he spotted his gang. They were crouching on the +roof above. Stan whistled louder and saw a shape detach itself and slide +down toward the edge of the roof. He was sure it was Allison. When the +dark shape loomed directly above him he called up cautiously. + +"There's a canvas-covered van right here. Get the men and have them drop +off on top of it." + +"Pretty far down, isn't it, old man?" Allison called back. + +"Not too far," Stan answered. "We'll get to our car and blast our way +out of here." + +Allison moved back up the roof. In a minute he was back with the general +and his sons. + +"General Bolero coming down first," Allison called softly. + +Stan moved back but got ready to help the general. A bulky form swung +down from the roof, then fell, landing with a thud beside Stan. Stan +helped the general to a sitting position. + +"Are you hurt?" + +"Only slightly jarred," the general assured him. + +The others dropped off in a hurry. They crowded around Stan. "Now to get +to our car," Stan said. + +They slid off the back of the van. It was parked a yard from the wall of +the house. Other vans stood beside it as closely as they could be packed +in. The raiders moved along the wall, halting behind the last van. The +car they wanted to reach was only a few feet away, but it was surrounded +by a squad of men. Flashlight beams stabbed into the car and men talked +excitedly. + +Inside the house there was a great uproar as the Germans searched for +the missing men. Tony chuckled, then whispered: + +"Little Don Sachetti and I used to get spanked for sneaking through that +window and climbing the trellis." + +"We had better take over that car and our guns and grenades. This is the +best chance we'll ever have. Most of the Germans are in the house," Stan +said. + +"Don Sachetti was executed yesterday. I think he would rest better if we +tossed a few grenades through the windows of his home," the general +said. "By all means let us proceed with the capture of the car and +matériel." + +"You drive, Arno," Stan ordered. "Fan out, boys, and start shooting when +they spot us." He turned to the general. "Sorry, sir, that we do not +have a gun for you." + +"I will soon have one," the general answered grimly. + +The boys spread out in the darkness along the side of the last van. They +moved forward with automatic pistols ready. Stan picked his man, a burly +officer with a flashlight. The Germans were so intent upon the arms they +had found that they did not see their attackers until the boys were upon +them. The burly officer was the one who sounded the alarm. He shouted +loudly as he shot his light over the raiders. Instantly the boys opened +up. With pistols flaming they charged. Stan saw the general leap ahead +and tear a rifle from the hands of a falling German. + +For a moment the action was furious, but the fire from the forty-fives +was deadly and the Germans went down or leaped away. Stan located a sack +of grenades that had been removed from the car. He took out a couple and +tossed them over toward the big gate. The result was all that he had +hoped it would be. A dozen armed guards had been standing at the gates +under shaded lights, while the machine-gun crews outside were dragging +their guns around to bring them to bear inside the yard. After the +second grenade exploded with a roar Stan saw nothing at the gate at all +except a pile of bricks where one of the entrance pillars had stood a +moment before. + +"Good going, but Tony has been hit," Allison shouted. "Better get into +the car!" + +Arno had the engine roaring while Allison and the general were sweeping +the yard with tommy-gun fire. Tony lay on the floor of the car, shoved +down to keep him clear of flying lead. From the shadows all around them +bullets were whining. Stan slid in beside Arno. He could not find a +tommy-gun, but he had the sack of grenades on his lap. Leaning out +through the window of the car he began lobbing them at the windows of +the big house. He hoped some of those he tossed would be incendiary +grenades. Arno drove parallel to the house for a short distance to give +Stan a chance with his grenades. + +The car swerved as they passed the door. Stan was able to plant a +grenade into the open door and to add another before they straightened +out for the charge at the gate. They hit the pile of loose bricks lying +in the entrance and one tire exploded. The car wobbled and careened but +shoved through the opening without turning over. + +As they smashed through, Stan saw flames leaping out of the doorway. A +gaping hole in the wall, revealed by the fire, showed where one grenade +had done its work. They had charged ahead only a few hundred yards and +were not clear of the driveway when they saw ahead of them a small tank +and two trucks. Men on foot swarmed beside the vehicle. With a roar the +whole driveway ahead burst into action. The careening car had been +sighted. Arno twisted the wheel and they plunged through a hedge and +down a steep bank where the car came to halt with its radiator smashed +against the trunk of a tree. + +"Get the tommy-guns and grenades," Stan snapped. "Get Tony out!" + +Tony was already out. "I have the wound plugged," he said in a weak +voice. "I'll manage." + +"We'll help you along," Stan said. "You lead the way, Arno." + +"I know best how to get out of here. I was here more than Arno," Tony +said. "I'll lead you." + +"Give him a hand, Arno," Stan said. "They're coming through the hedge up +above." + +Allison and Stan opened up on a group of Germans breaking through the +hedge above. Their gunfire drove the Germans back and allowed Arno and +the general time to get Tony up the bank and into the woods. + +Whirling, they ran up the bank and overtook the three who were waiting +for them. + +"Where to now?" Stan asked. + +"We have to stay in the woods and keep moving. Near the top of the +ridge we'll find a small lake. There are a number of small huts up +there. We can hide in one of them." Arno spoke quickly. + +"But they'll search every foot of the woods and every hut," Allison +objected. + +"They do a very good job of hunting down escaped men," Stan agreed. + +"We might fool them if we hide in the Sachetti villa. They would never +think of looking for us there," Tony said. + +"An excellent idea, but how can we get in without being discovered?" the +general asked. + +"There's an outside air shaft leading down into the cellars. It is +covered with vines and there is a tree growing beside it," Tony said. "I +used to be able to slide down that shaft." + +"A good idea," Stan said. He was beginning to realize that Tony would +not be able to travel very far or very fast. "Let's get going." + +"See, they are making a circle around the woods," Tony said. + +Lights were flashing above and below them. But the Germans did not seem +to think it necessary to throw a line between the woods and the house. +Arno and General Bolero helped Tony. Stan and Allison brought up the +rear. They moved through the trees and across a garden thickly planted +with shrubbery and grapevines. + +Behind them the woods were filled with German soldiers. The searchers +had fanned out into the valley below and upon the hills above the villa. + +"Here is the shaft," Tony said as they halted in the black darkness +under a tree. + +Stan could see nothing that looked like a shaft or like the roof of a +wine cellar. + +"We must be careful not to disturb the vines or the bushes." Tony +laughed softly. "Mr. Sachetti went to a great deal of trouble in hiding +the cellar and the shaft. He said they ruined the beauty of his garden." +Tony was pushing aside bushes as he spoke. Finally he called very +softly. "Come now." + +The raiders moved under the spreading branches of the tree and from +there they crawled under a leafy vine. They found an open shaft with a +high metal cone over it. Tony and Arno went down first. When the general +tried it he had trouble squeezing down the shaft. Stan was the last to +slip through. He lowered the guns and grenades to Allison before he +descended. Sliding down he found himself in total darkness. + +"Now we have to hide. The Germans will be coming down here often for +wine." Tony spoke eagerly. "We'll hide behind the vats containing the +new crop of grapes. The Germans will drink only the old wines. They are +on this side." + +Feeling their way they located a row of huge barrels and crawled in +behind them. Stan and Allison located themselves near the outside +barrel. + +"We can hear the doors open when anyone comes down here," Tony said. +"The hinges are rusty and will squeak loudly." + +"How about dressing your wound now, Tony?" General Bolero suggested. "I +will tend to it myself." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +NIGHT FLIGHT + + +The creaking hinges of the wine cellar door served as a warning signal +to the hiding men behind the wine casks. Every time a German orderly was +sent for wine they knew he was coming before he had even entered the +short passageway leading into the main room. Usually the men were sent +in pairs, sometimes three or four came. The men always had liberal +samples of the wine before filling the decanters for the officers. + +The cellar was damp and smelled of rotting wood and stale wine. The +space behind the wine casks was limited and legs developed cramps as the +night and the next day wore on. Belts had to be tightened over empty +stomachs, but there was no complaining. Tony regained his strength and +with it his belief that they would escape. + +"We can't very well climb back out of that chute," Allison said for the +tenth time. "We'll have to plan some other strategy. It's three P.M. +right now and we still don't have any ideas. We have to be up at that +wheat field by midnight." + +"I'll slip out into the hallway and have a look," Stan offered. + +"And get caught," Allison said sourly. + +Further talk was halted. The hinges of the door creaked dismally. Four +men entered and turned on the small light over the row of old wine +barrels. They talked and had a few drinks before filling the pitchers +they carried. There was much laughing and joking. When they had gone, +Allison translated their conversation. + +"We finally have some information," he said. "The Germans blame the +Italian peasants for our disappearance. They are sure the peasants +spirited us away and they are taking reprisals." + +"That is like them," General Bolero said sadly. + +"And here is the big news. The Germans figure we have escaped and will +reach the British lines in the south. They expect a bombing raid upon +this spot, similar to the one on the Bolero villa. So tonight they will +evacuate under cover of darkness and they will put this place, wine +cellar and all, to the torch before they go." Allison laughed. + +"When are they going?" Stan asked. + +"They plan to get out as soon as darkness comes to cover their movements +from our air force, which seems to have taken over the sky. As soon as +they have evacuated they will destroy the place. I gather the high +command has ordered that every place evacuated is to be destroyed in +revenge for Italy's quitting the war." + +"So. We have to get out of here by dark," General Bolero said. "And that +we will do." + +"I hope so," Stan said. + +"We will evacuate with the Germans," the general said. "That is our only +chance." + +"Right-o," Allison agreed. + +"So we may as well lay a few plans." The general seemed eager to get +into action. + +"We could shoot our way out," Tony suggested. + +"We would do better to use our heads," the general said firmly. + +"We ought to be able to take over one of the gangs sent here to get +wine. The German officers will want to haul away all of this fine wine +they can possibly take with them," Stan said. + +"Now we're beginning to get places," Allison agreed. + +For the next hour they planned and talked. Tony explained the route they +would have to take to get to the field where O'Malley was to pick them +up. No one said anything about O'Malley's not being there at midnight. +Their big worry was to get to the field themselves. + +It was well after dark, according to their watches, when things began to +happen. An officer and a squad of soldiers entered the cellar. The +officer barked commands at the men for a few minutes, then marched off. + +The raiders crowded close to Allison to learn what had been ordered. +Allison whispered his report while the men a few feet away began rolling +barrels from the racks. + +"They are taking the old wine. The new wine in these vats is to be +poured out. The barrels are to be smashed. They have a drum of gasoline +outside and will pour it into the cellar and set fire to it as they +leave." Allison paused. "They have a simple method worked out for +emptying these barrels. After the gasoline is set afire the men are to +toss a few grenades in here to smash the barrels and make certain the +cellar is destroyed." + +"We better take over right now," Stan said. "Those birds have only side +arms. We'll slide out with our tommy-guns covering them. Each take a +barrel and when I whistle step out." + +The German workmen were startled out of their wits a second or two later +when five armed men stepped out from behind barrels and covered them +with machine guns and a rifle. They stared at General Bolero, blinked +their eyes wildly, and then elevated their arms toward the ceiling. + +"Tie them up," Stan ordered. "Take the door with Arno." He nodded to +Allison. "If any more men come, cover them and bring them back here." + +Tony and the general and Stan got busy. It took a little time to bind +and gag eight men when the bonds and gags had to be ripped from their +clothing with trench knives. Before that was finished Allison and Arno +added two more noncom officers who had come in to hurry up the squad. + +"I suggest we each roll a barrel outside," General Bolero said. "We can +use them as something to hide behind if we meet resistance." + +"Good idea," Stan agreed. He turned to Tony. "Can we get out without +charging the main gate? If we rouse the Germans, we'll be in the same +spot we were in the first time we got loose." + +"I don't think so," Tony answered. + +The problem was solved by the appearance of an officer. He bellowed +angrily into the cellar, then took a step or two into the dark +passageway. That was a mistake. Allison tapped him over the head with a +gun barrel and dragged him back. + +"He says the villa has been fired. There is only a few minutes to load +up and get out." Allison laid the officer beside his men. + +"We won't tie him up. When he comes to he can free his men. I wouldn't +roast even a German," Stan snapped. "Get a barrel and let's get going." + +The floor and the passageway sloped gently down into the cellar because +the barrels always came in full and went out empty. The boys soon +discovered that it took two of them to roll a heavy barrel. They managed +to get three barrels rolling and headed for the entrance. + +Outside they found a big van with a driver who was dancing up and down +shouting. Three planks sloped up into the truck. The first barrel hit +the planking and the boys heaved it up. The driver was yelling wildly +and he had every reason to yell. The yard was as light as day. Flames +licked up all around the house and the smaller buildings blazed +furiously. The heat was intense and the smoke was thick. + +Allison snapped an order at the driver and the fellow put a shoulder +against the next barrel. No sooner had he leaned forward than Arno +tapped him over the head with his pistol butt. + +"Get our guns and the sack of grenades and flares," Stan shouted. "Arno, +you drive." + +They had two barrels in the back of the van where they could be seen. In +a moment the guns and the grenades were in the truck along with Tony, +the general, and Allison. Stan armed himself with a tommy-gun and rode +up front with Arno. + +Out at the main gate guards were shouting and waving at the van to hurry +up. No Germans remained in the courtyard. Arno started the van and they +headed for the gate. The guards wanted a ride, but Arno had gotten up +speed and did not stop. They roared down the driveway and headed out +into the road. Foot soldiers were everywhere. Arno slipped into a line +of trucks and they chugged along toward the settlement. They reached it +without mishap, though a dozen officers had shouted orders at them, and +one captain had ridden several hundred yards on their running board. The +complete blackout necessary to make a convoy movement safe helped a lot. + +Reaching the settlement, they were directed to a grove of trees where +their truck was shoved back into deep cover. + +Allison came forward and got in with Stan. When an officer came along +checking their load, he explained they had wine for the officers' mess +and suggested it be shoved deeper into the woods to keep it from being +tapped by the soldiers. The officer cleared a pathway and led them deep +into the timber beyond the rest of the convoy. He ordered the crew to +report to a designated spot and then rushed off. + +The five raiders gathered beside the truck and broke out laughing. + +"So considerate of them," Arno said. + +"I have never known the German army to be so co-operative before," the +general observed. + +"We better be on our way," Stan said. + +They gathered up their things and headed into the woods with Tony +leading the way. After an hour of searching and much argument between +him and Arno they finally located a trail and followed it. + +Stan and Allison began to suspect the boys were lost, when suddenly they +came out on a knoll. Above them, silhouetted against the starlit sky, +were the two square-topped peaks. + +"See," Tony said to Arno. "Now you must admit I was right." + +"You were, I am sorry I argued." + +"It's twenty minutes to twelve," Allison said anxiously. "How far is it +to the wheat field?" + +"Just a ten-minute walk," Tony answered. + +"We'll hit it right on the minute," Stan said eagerly. "Lead on." + +Tony led them out of the woods and into the wheat field. They checked +the wind and got out their flares. Arno took one, Tony another, while +Allison took the red center marker. + +"Clear a space so as not to set the field of wheat on fire," Arno +warned. "I'll show you how far to go." + +Stan and the general went along, carrying the guns and grenades. They +were about in the center of the field when they heard the roar of a +plane motor. Stan listened and then grinned. The engine was a powerful +radial. He was certain O'Malley was at the throttle. + +The plane swooped around and around high above while the boys got spaces +cleared and everything set. Arno called to the others and the flares +blossomed out. Looking up into the sky they waited. The plane circled +and headed in. Suddenly a barrage broke loose from a hill a half mile +away. A German battery had heard the plane and had spotted the flares. +The gunners were shooting at the flares and by the dirt they were +lifting they seemed to be getting the range. + +"He'll be blown to bits when he lands!" Arno shouted. + +"We'll have to move back or get blasted ourselves," Allison called, +breaking into a run. + +Shells were exploding close to them, kicking dirt over them, and the +barrage was swinging toward them. Overhead the plane was coming in. It +roared over their heads a few feet above the barrage. + +"Overshot it!" Tony yelled. "Now he'll have to try again." + +"And the Germans are coming!" Stan yelled. "Get set with the machine +guns!" + +When a shell burst close to Allison, he stopped running. Suddenly he +shouted, "He's fooled them! He's set down at the far edge of the field!" + +Sure enough, the plane had landed almost at the edge of the woods. It +was swinging around. They all ducked and raced toward it. Stan got there +first and was greeted by O'Malley's voice from the plane. + +"Sure, an' you got out the band for a welcome!" + +"As soon as they spot the flare of your exhausts the welcome will get +hotter!" Stan shouted back. + +Loading up was only a matter of seconds, but the Germans on the hill and +those charging down into the field had the Mosquito located and began +pounding the lower end of the field. O'Malley headed into the barrage +and hopped her off without getting a direct hit. They circled overhead +and then swung south. Stan was seated across from O'Malley. + +"Have a nice trip?" O'Malley asked with a grin. + +"We did," Stan answered. + +"I hear there'll be a flock o' tinware waitin' for you when you get in." +O'Malley continued to grin. "The boys are bettin' ten to one that you +all got shot. I'll be richer than Rockefeller when I get back." He +chuckled to himself. + +"Right now we could do with something to eat," Stan said as he leaned +back and closed his eyes. + +"Colonel Benson has a banquet spread for you. Have Allison get on the +radio and tell him to put it on the table, and have him order me two +apple pies." O'Malley opened the Mosquito up another notch as he thought +of the pies. + +Stan clicked on the intercom and got Allison. He felt, at the moment, as +though he could stand a vacation, but glancing back he saw a great fire +raging with an intensity that lighted the sky for a hundred miles. The +Germans were destroying the historical city of Naples. There would be no +vacation. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Yankee Flier in Italy, by +Rutherford G. Montgomery + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + +***** This file should be named 32288-8.txt or 32288-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/8/32288/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Montgomery + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Yankee Flier in Italy + +Author: Rutherford G. Montgomery + +Illustrator: Paul Laune + +Release Date: May 7, 2010 [EBook #32288] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="403" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p><br /><br /></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/insidecover.jpg" width="600" height="445" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p><br /><br /></p> +<h1>A YANKEE FLIER</h1> + +<h1>IN ITALY</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<img src="images/front.jpg" width="386" height="600" alt=""WE'LL TAKE OVER NOW," STAN SNAPPED. + +A Yankee Flier in Italy" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"WE'LL TAKE OVER NOW," STAN SNAPPED.<br /> + +<i>A Yankee Flier in Italy</i></span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A YANKEE FLIER</h2> + +<h2>IN ITALY</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>AL AVERY</h2> + +<h4><i>ILLUSTRATED BY</i></h4> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Paul Laune</span></h3> + +<p class="center"> +GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1944, by</span><br /> +<br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>All Rights Reserved</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i></p> +<p class="notes"> +[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright<br /> +on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>For</i><br /> +<br /> +AVON KIRKS<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +CHAPTER <span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +I <span class="smcap">Farewell Party</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br /> +<br /> +II <span class="smcap">Special Task</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_13'>13</a></span><br /> +<br /> +III <span class="smcap">Reunion</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></span><br /> +<br /> +IV <span class="smcap">Beach-Head</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_38'>38</a></span><br /> +<br /> +V <span class="smcap">Prison Ship</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +VI <span class="smcap">Firing Squad</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></span><br /> +<br /> +VII <span class="smcap">Rest Cure</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></span><br /> +<br /> +VIII <span class="smcap">Escape</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_98'>98</a></span><br /> +<br /> +IX <span class="smcap">Homeward Bound</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_110'>110</a></span><br /> +<br /> +X <span class="smcap">Lone Eagle</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></span><br /> +<br /> +XI <span class="smcap">Rescue</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_140'>140</a></span><br /> +<br /> +XII <span class="smcap">Salerno</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_162'>162</a></span><br /> +<br /> +XIII <span class="smcap">Night Raid</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_184'>184</a></span><br /> +<br /> +XIV <span class="smcap">Night Flight</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_200'>200</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A YANKEE FLIER</h2> + +<h2>IN ITALY</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>FAREWELL PARTY</h3> + + +<p>The party was about to break up. It had not been very successful. +Lieutenant O'Malley had devoured only one blueberry pie. This meant he +was feeling far from par. He sat sprawled in a big chair that once had +belonged to a Moslem prince, his skinny legs elevated to the top of the +mess table.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you fellows are skunks, beatin' it off to do a soft stretch +in Alexandria," he growled.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Stan Wilson, United States Army Air Corps, grinned at his +Irish pal.</p> + +<p>"They need brains in Alexandria to tell them what to do." Stan sipped +his coffee and continued to grin.</p> + +<p>March Allison leaned across the table. Allison was British, slight and +neatly dressed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> There was always a mocking smile lurking at the corners +of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"I say, old fellow, you should be crowing. You are now a flight +commander and I understand you are to rate nothing less than a major."</p> + +<p>"'Tis not the stripes I want," O'Malley muttered. "Sure, an' I'm told +this Colonel Benson who is to be in command is a spalpeen of the worst +sort. Niver did I care fer brass hats an' now I am to be near one all +the time."</p> + +<p>"I understand Colonel Benson holds to a strict diet, no coffee, tobacco, +or pie," Stan said gravely. "He expects his men to follow his example."</p> + +<p>O'Malley snorted. "Sure, an' I'll be after eatin' pie right off the top +o' his desk."</p> + +<p>"He is said to be the best-dressed officer in the Army." Allison had his +gaze fixed upon O'Malley's sloppy uniform. The shirt was open at the +neck to allow O'Malley's huge Adam's apple to roll up and down, free and +unencumbered. O'Malley's cap was wrinkled and sagging as it attempted to +cover his shock of wild hair.</p> + +<p>"I'm a fightin' man," O'Malley said gravely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> "As such I waste no time +on trifles." His big mouth was tightly clamped shut and a frown wrinkled +his homely face.</p> + +<p>Stan and Allison broke out laughing. Colonel Benson would have to take +O'Malley as he was, that they well knew. They had fought side by side +with him in the Battle of Britain, in the Far East, and now in Africa. +O'Malley was known as the wildest pilot in the service and one of the +best.</p> + +<p>"We better get going," Stan said as he rose to his feet. He held out a +hand to O'Malley. "Hold off the invasion of Sicily and Italy until we +get back, pal."</p> + +<p>"I'll be startin' it tomorrow," O'Malley said sourly.</p> + +<p>"Cheerio," Allison added as he shook hands with his pal.</p> + +<p>O'Malley watched them walk out of the mess. He had to admit, as the door +closed after them, that his gloom was due entirely to parting with the +two men he had fought beside for so long. Such things as colonels who +were tough did not bother O'Malley. Having Stan and Allison walk out on +him was the thing that hurt. It was his own fault that he was not going +with them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> He had refused to quit the front for a month or so of ease +and rest.</p> + +<p>Gazing out through an open window, he watched a group of natives herd a +flock of donkeys down toward the main part of the city of Bizerte. He +certainly would kick himself if no invasion came off for a month. +Lowering his feet from the top of the table, he strolled out into the +sunshine. Colonel Benson was due to arrive that morning and he had +orders to be on hand, along with other flight commanders, to meet his +superior. O'Malley yawned. Meeting brass hats always bored him. He was +not sure that he was going to like being one of them. O'Malley +considered even a flight commander a brass hat.</p> + +<p>Colonel Benson was late in arriving. He was exactly three hours late and +that made O'Malley exactly two hours late for his dinner. Dinner was a +very important item in O'Malley's day, and he was in a very dour mood +when an orderly called the boys in to meet the new commander.</p> + +<p>The commander's room once had been a lounge and music room. It was part +of a huge old mansion located on an estate. An Italian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> political boss +had taken it over from a native prince. O'Malley crowded in behind the +first man entering the room. At once the man ahead of O'Malley clicked +his heels and snapped a smart salute. O'Malley looked the colonel over, +then dabbed at the front of his cap with a big hand.</p> + +<p>Colonel Benson was a big, rawboned man, standing six feet two inches and +weighing two hundred and ten pounds. His red face looked as though it +had just been scrubbed with soap and water. It had a pink and white +smoothness under the sunburn which reddened it. The eyes of the colonel +took away the softness of his smooth face. They were green and hard as +agate. At the moment they were looking Lieutenant O'Malley over with a +decidedly unfavorable glint.</p> + +<p>The other boys shoved in and lined up. There was no mistaking the +atmosphere in the room. It fairly vibrated with military correctness. +The colonel's uniform, his carefully parted hair, his smooth, freshly +scraped chin, all added to the feeling of tightness.</p> + +<p>Most of the boys in the room were used to dirt and dust and bearded +faces. They recently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> had come through a dusty, dirty, and bloody +battle. During those months on the desert they had forgotten all about +military correctness. The colonel's expression plainly indicated that he +thought them a sloppy outfit. He remained standing as he talked, and the +men remained at attention.</p> + +<p>"I have been sent here to teach you men some of the combat tricks +developed recently." His eyes roved over the men and stopped upon +O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"I am not going to insist upon strict military observance, but there are +a few details I will insist upon." The colonel's voice was rising and +his face was getting a bit redder.</p> + +<p>"You." He stabbed a finger toward O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant O'Malley," O'Malley informed him.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant O'Malley, nothing can excuse the sloppiness of your attire. +In the future you will give more attention to your uniform."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and grinned.</p> + +<p>The grin made Colonel Benson rise up on his heels. He came down with a +thud, but he said no more. His eyes moved from O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"We will soon be invading Italy." The Colonel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> paused to let this sink +in. It was exactly what the boys had been expecting, and therefore they +showed no sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"How about Sicily, sor?" O'Malley asked. He had been flying missions all +over the proposed routes and knew something would have to be done about +Sicily.</p> + +<p>"That will be merely a step in taking Italy, Lieutenant," the colonel +explained. He looked about the room. There were plenty of chairs. "You +may be at ease, gentlemen. Seat yourselves and we will proceed with our +conference."</p> + +<p>O'Malley grunted. Dinner hour was long past and here they were settling +down for a conference. He picked the chair nearest the door and slumped +down into it. The colonel seated himself and launched into a lengthy and +detailed talk upon tactics and plans. O'Malley listened for a time, then +stretched out his legs and made himself comfortable. His mind wandered +far from the droning voice of the colonel.</p> + +<p>An hour passed and Colonel Benson was still outlining plans and driving +home things he felt were very important. O'Malley had not exactly been +asleep, but he had failed to hear more than just a small part of what +was said. Suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> he roused himself. Colonel Benson had just made a +remark that brought him up sharply.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I will now outline the procedure we will follow in handling +the various flights assigned to my sector. This will not take longer +than one hour. Give me your close attention."</p> + +<p>O'Malley looked about as though seeking a way to escape. He saw an +orderly standing at the door. Nodding to the corporal, he leaned forward +and whispered a command. The orderly disappeared.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the corporal returned. He was carrying a tin plate +with half of a blueberry pie on it.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, son," O'Malley said as he slid the pie into his lap. He +scooped out a quarter of the pie and opened his mouth. As he bit down +upon the pie he began to grin. He gave his attention to the colonel with +the first real show of interest he had given during the afternoon. The +quarter of pie disappeared quickly. O'Malley slid the remaining quarter +into his hand and opened his mouth.</p> + +<p>"The close co-ordination between our fighter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> units and the low-level +bombers will be secured by a system of code signals." Colonel Benson's +voice snapped off suddenly. His green eyes were on O'Malley and sparks +flashed in their depths. The other boys turned and looked at O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"You are hungry, Lieutenant O'Malley?" Colonel Benson asked coldly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sor. 'Tis three hours an' more past dinnertime," O'Malley answered +calmly as he shoved half of the pie into his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Stop! Stop—swilling that pie!" the colonel roared.</p> + +<p>O'Malley got rid of the pie in a simple manner. He shoved what was left +into his mouth and munched upon it.</p> + +<p>For a full minute the colonel could not think of anything to say. But +his face got deeper red and his eyes blazed. Finally he rapped on his +desk and said:</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I will not tolerate eating during a conference. Any sort of +eating. I will not tolerate eating pie while I am giving instructions. +Lieutenant O'Malley, you will retire. I will consider your case later."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>O'Malley got to his feet. He handed the pie plate to the embarrassed +corporal. "Thank you, sor," he drawled as he made off.</p> + +<p>The colonel snorted and went back to his lecture. O'Malley headed for +the mess hall. The half pie had whetted his appetite. Locating a +comfortable place near a window he ordered a big dinner, with a whole +blueberry pie for dessert. In a leisurely manner he began devouring his +meal.</p> + +<p>He had spent most of an hour enjoying his dinner and was ready to eat +his pie, when the fliers began drifting in from the conference. Several +of them headed toward O'Malley's table. O'Malley was the most famous +pilot in their outfit. The stories about him amounted almost to legend. +The boys admired his disregard for military usage. All of them had been +working according to the colonel's carefully explained plans for months +and knew them better than the colonel did. They had been bored by the +long session but had not had the nerve to show their feelings.</p> + +<p>But none of them reached O'Malley. Colonel Benson came in and strode +over to O'Malley's table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nodding to O'Malley, he said, "Mind if I join you?" His voice did not +sound so stiff outside his office.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'm glad to have you," O'Malley said, but there was a gleam +of suspicion in his eye.</p> + +<p>Colonel Benson seated himself. He watched O'Malley attack the pie. His +interest amounted to fascination and he did not speak until O'Malley had +finished three fourths of the pie. He ordered coffee and leaned back.</p> + +<p>"I have heard a great deal about you, Lieutenant," he began.</p> + +<p>O'Malley did not think this remark called for an answer, so he went on +eating his pie.</p> + +<p>"I know you are an excellent pilot, though I understand you are a bit +reckless." There was a gleam that might have been humor in the colonel's +eye.</p> + +<p>O'Malley leaned back. He pushed the pie plate away from him and uttered +a contented sigh.</p> + +<p>"However, I'm afraid you are not the type of man I want working beside +me. With your permission, I will find you another assignment." The +colonel watched O'Malley as he spoke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What sort o' work?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Flying a fighter plane, of course." Colonel Benson smiled.</p> + +<p>"'Twill suit me foine," O'Malley said. "I'm not likin' the idea o' bein' +a brass hat."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you would make a very good one," the colonel said. "There +will be no further mention of your pie-eating exhibition of this +afternoon. You will report to operations for your new assignment."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sor."</p> + +<p>The colonel drank his coffee and arose. O'Malley got to his feet and +managed a snappy salute. The colonel moved off and the boys closed in to +find out what had happened.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>SPECIAL TASK</h3> + + +<p>The sympathy of the boys in the officers' mess was wasted upon O'Malley. +He was not impressed by the advanced rating he had missed, nor was he +jealous of the new and shining bars and oak leaves his pals were +wearing. He had checked in and been assigned flight leader of a flight +of three planes whose task was special work. All that interested +O'Malley was that he was due to head out over the Mediterranean Sea with +the nose of his Lightning pointed toward Italy.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll have Benito captured by the time you birds go into +action," he told the gang.</p> + +<p>O'Malley's exact duties were not very clear, nor was his crew a reality. +No men had been assigned to him and he had no flight orders, but he had +the assurance of the captain at operations that he would be on his way +in a short time. If O'Malley had any suspicions as to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> sort of work +Colonel Benson had laid out for him, he did not show them. He was in +exceptional good humor.</p> + +<p>When he was called in by Captain Marks at headquarters, he dashed to the +operations room as fast as he could. The captain smiled as O'Malley +sprawled into a chair.</p> + +<p>"I understand we are about to start an invasion of Italy," the captain +began. "The details are a military secret, but it's coming and right +away. There's some spade work to be done and you are to handle a hot +assignment."</p> + +<p>O'Malley's big mouth spread in an eager grin.</p> + +<p>"The commander has assigned you to this job because he feels you are +specially fitted for the work." The captain beamed, but there was a look +in his eye that made O'Malley sit up and wipe the grin off his face.</p> + +<p>"And what may it be?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"You are to ferry Lightnings to Malta." The captain lifted a hand as +O'Malley came out of his chair like a cork out of a bottle of Algerian +wine. "This is dangerous business. You may have to fight your way +through. This will be day flying."</p> + +<p>O'Malley snorted. "Fight! Sure, an' ferryin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> to Malta is no work for a +fighter pilot. 'Tis a job for these new colleens you got in the ferry +service."</p> + +<p>"Colonel's orders," the captain said curtly. "And the planes are to be +landed in Malta in fighting trim. As soon as I round up a couple of men +to work with you, I'll give you a call. Get set, because I'll need you +any hour now."</p> + +<p>O'Malley leaned forward and there was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Did you +say fight our way through?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"If necessary, but I understand you are a stunting fool. You shouldn't +have to fire a shot on any trip. The planes are not to be shot up. They +are for combat use in the invasion."</p> + +<p>O'Malley was on his feet. "Foine," he said sweetly. "'Tis a nice job, +sor, an' I'm appreciatin' it."</p> + +<p>The captain fixed him with a suspicious eye. This ferry job had been +tough to fill. It was vitally important and demanded experienced fighter +pilots, but none of the men wanted it. Captain Marks had not been able +to get a single man to accept the job. He was relieved when the colonel +had sent over word that O'Malley would serve as flight leader. But he +still had to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> locate two men to work with the Irishman. O'Malley was +taking the whole thing too nicely. Captain Marks was worried. He knew +O'Malley's reputation and he had picked up a few hints of how O'Malley +had been assigned to the job.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you the names of your crew as soon as I get them lined up," +the captain said gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Shanghaied you mean," O'Malley said in a honeyed tone.</p> + +<p>"The colonel will locate a couple for me," the captain answered with a +grin.</p> + +<p>O'Malley grinned back at him. "I know a couple I wish you could get hold +of," he said. He turned around and walked out of the office.</p> + +<p>For a full five minutes O'Malley stood outside the office looking out +toward the blue Mediterranean. There was a deep scowl on his face. +Finally he sauntered into the mess and seated himself near a window. +Elevating his feet, he closed his eyes and took a nap.</p> + +<p>He was awakened by an orderly. The soldier saluted smartly and said:</p> + +<p>"You are wanted at operations, sir."</p> + +<p>O'Malley got to his feet and walked into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> briefing shack, which was +a shed hastily erected outside the mess. Captain Marks was waiting for +him. He shoved a sheaf of flight orders at O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"You are to deliver three Lightning fighters to Malta. In case you meet +enemy planes, you are to take proper evasive measures. Is that clear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and added, "If we be attacked we fight?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, we don't want these new planes shot down."</p> + +<p>Glancing at his flight orders, O'Malley moved leisurely out to the +flight strip designated. Three Lightnings stood there with their props +spinning. A ground crew was just leaving them. O'Malley nodded toward +the chief mechanic who swung down out of the cockpit.</p> + +<p>"Is this bag o' bolts ready to fly?" he asked with a grin.</p> + +<p>"She's clicking fine, sir," the sergeant answered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley glanced at his orders. The two men under him were Ted Wilks and +Pete Liske. He wondered what they had done to call down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> the colonel's +displeasure. Swinging up into the greenhouse, he palmed the hatch cover +and got set.</p> + +<p>"Wilks and Liske," he called lazily. "This is your skipper, Mrs. +O'Malley's son. Get your crates hot."</p> + +<p>"Temperatures check," Liske called back. His voice sounded sour.</p> + +<p>"Which one of the Auld Man's corns did you step on, Liske?" O'Malley +asked.</p> + +<p>"Same one I did," Wilks called in.</p> + +<p>"Can the chatter and get going," snapped a voice from operations. +"Lieutenant O'Malley, report out at once," another voice cut in.</p> + +<p>"Up to five thousand and then tuck in close to me," O'Malley ordered.</p> + +<p>"Read your flight sheets!" The voice from operations was sharp and +snappy.</p> + +<p>O'Malley laughed. "Shove off, me hearties," he called.</p> + +<p>Wilks went zooming off and Liske followed closely. O'Malley watched +their take-off with a critical eye. He saw at once that he had been +given two fledglings to nurse safely through. Like an old hen, he was +expected to see them through by proper evasive tactics. O'Malley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> began +whistling a bit of an Irish tune. He'd protect those kids, just let any +Italian or German fighter show up.</p> + +<p>Kicking down on one brake, he spun the Lightning around and sent her +zooming off the field, hanging her on her prop at once, and surging over +the hatch covers of his charges like a crazy angel heading for the sun. +His boys dropped in behind him and soon had snuggled in, wing to wing, +one on each side.</p> + +<p>"So you birds were bad boys," O'Malley called across to his men.</p> + +<p>"So what? We hear you were supposed to be a major," Liske answered +insolently.</p> + +<p>"We didn't read the rule book careful," Wilks confessed with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"From now on you won't be after needin' a rule book," O'Malley assured +them. He was scanning the blue sky eagerly. A pile of clouds, off to the +east, looked promising. He swung over that way. If there was a Jerry in +the whole area, he'd be hiding up in that cloud.</p> + +<p>The three Lightnings zoomed low under the cloud but nothing happened. +The sky was as serene and calm as the sky over a Kansas wheat field or a +kirk in Kerry County, Ireland. O'Malley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> scowled and eased back against +the shock pad.</p> + +<p>They roared over Pantelleria Island which had been occupied by the +British and Yanks. Sicily lay ahead and O'Malley knew evasive tactics +called for a wide sweep to the east and south. He had already flown +miles north in his hopeful quest of trouble. Easing down to two thousand +feet, they swept around in a circle that carried them within sight of +the coast of Sicily. But there was no enemy craft in sight in the air +and very few on the water along the coast. With a sigh O'Malley +straightened their course and headed in to Malta. They had flown a half +circle deep into enemy territory but nothing exciting had happened. +O'Malley was beginning to worry. If all of their ferry flights were +going to be like this, he would have to do something about it.</p> + +<p>Picking up the radio signals from the Malta field, they slid in, spotted +the Yank landing strip, and set down. Ground crews rushed out to take +over. They swarmed around the Lightnings and had them moving off almost +before their pilots were out of the cockpits. O'Malley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> scowled. The +boys had no more respect for a ferry pilot than they did an M.P.</p> + +<p>O'Malley obtained his release and acceptance of the planes from a +captain who rode out in a motorcycle. The captain seemed irritated.</p> + +<p>"Your flight time is double what it should be. Get over to Number Three +Field and get your transportation back to Africa."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sor," O'Malley said. "We drifted a bit off course."</p> + +<p>The captain looked at him sharply. He was very busy and delays did not +improve his ragged temper.</p> + +<p>"Don't let it happen again," he snapped.</p> + +<p>O'Malley smiled at his two fliers. "Sure, an' 'tis very ungrateful some +people are. We risk our necks to deliver these crates an' get a sour +welcome." He turned and walked away. The captain stood staring after +him. He had not met a man like O'Malley before. Usually ferry pilots +were not given to back talk.</p> + +<p>The transport was waiting. O'Malley and his pals climbed in among an +assortment of equipment and supplies being returned to base. In a short +time they were back at their own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> briefing room. Three planes were ready +and they took off again.</p> + +<p>All day they ferried Lightnings across to Malta and not once did they +sight enemy craft. O'Malley was wild when they checked in for the +evening. He glared at the grinning Captain Marks.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' something better bust loose tomorrow," he cried.</p> + +<p>"Probably will," Marks answered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley stomped away to quarters. Wilks and Liske dashed off to put in +for an immediate transfer to more active duty. O'Malley hoped they got +the transfer. He knew there was not much chance of him getting shifted, +not as long as Colonel Benson was in command.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>REUNION</h3> + + +<p>Stan and Allison sat in the big Lockheed transport and looked down upon +the shores of Africa. A coastal road wound along the beach. It was +war-scarred and still littered with broken tanks and shattered trucks. +This was the route Rommel had taken in his flight across Libya.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what O'Malley's doing about this time?" Stan asked. He was +beginning to be sorry he had accepted the offer to return to Alexandria. +O'Malley likely was leading a flight over the shores of Italy.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet he is seeing action," Allison said. "But I'm satisfied to be +riding in peace with a pip of a vacation ahead. You're not beginning to +get the bug to fight so soon, old man?"</p> + +<p>"No," Stan answered with a grin. "I aim to have a swell time and be +ready for the big push into Europe."</p> + +<p>The trained ears of the two pilots caught a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> warning signal from one of +the plane's radial motors. The motor complained for a few minutes, then +coughed and conked out completely.</p> + +<p>"Looks like we might be due for a forced landing," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"That would be our luck," Allison answered. "Where are we, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"We must be near Bengazi." Stan peered down at the coast line.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later their fears were realized. The transport began +circling for a landing. They sighted the ruins of a town and were soon +over it. Ten minutes later they were standing on a sand dune along with +the pilot and copilot. A group of higher-ranking officers, including a +general, stood a little way from them.</p> + +<p>"We'll not be here very long," the pilot said, jerking his head toward +his other passengers. "Not with the big boy along. He's on an urgent +mission. We've already radioed for a pick-up plane."</p> + +<p>"He's hurrying in the wrong direction," Allison said.</p> + +<p>Stan walked away and down the slope a bit. One of the Navy's NATS +amphibian freight planes was down at the dock. Stan had learned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> to +respect the Navy Air Transport Service. Those boys flew freight and mail +from the United States to every part of the world where the Yanks were +fighting, and they flew it on schedule. This plane probably was headed +back to Tunis or Bizerte.</p> + +<p>He passed the high officers at some little distance. The wind was +blowing away from them and he caught the irritated voice of the general.</p> + +<p>"With this delay I'll have to go back. Action against Italy starts at +dawn tomorrow." The wind whipped away the general's words and Stan did +not hear any more, but what he had heard made him halt.</p> + +<p>Invasion. The boys were going in for the kill and he was heading for a +rest in Alexandria. Turning, he walked up the hill. Allison was chatting +with the pilot. Stan motioned to him and they strolled down the slope. +When they were out of hearing of the crew, Stan said:</p> + +<p>"I just overheard something."</p> + +<p>Allison gave him a quick look. "Been eavesdropping?"</p> + +<p>"An ill wind brought me a word from that general. We're hitting it back +to Bizerte."</p> + +<p>"I say, old chap, you know I'm going where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> I can have two hot baths a +day. I'll have a barber shave me and I'll have breakfast served in bed. +You run along back to Bizerte, but I'm going on to Alexandria."</p> + +<p>"The attack on Italy is set for tomorrow morning. The general is going +back and I'm going with him. O'Malley isn't going to hog this show."</p> + +<p>Allison halted and stared at Stan. Suddenly his twisted smile pulled at +the corners of his mouth. "If you put it that way, I guess I'm going +back to Bizerte, too."</p> + +<p>"The general has radioed for a plane to take him back. This delay has +upset his schedule and he won't go on. We'll go back with him. Let's +collar the old boy."</p> + +<p>"We are under orders to report to Alexandria," Allison reminded him.</p> + +<p>"The general doesn't know what our orders are. We can worry about little +things like that after we get back," Stan said impatiently.</p> + +<p>They walked across the slope to where the general was standing. There +were four officers with him, three colonels and a major.</p> + +<p>"Could we have a word with you, sir?" Stan asked as he snapped a +salute.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Certainly," General Miller said.</p> + +<p>"We have decided to return to Bizerte and wondered if you could say a +word for us if a westbound plane stops here. This delay will upset our +plans and we might as well go back."</p> + +<p>The general looked at Stan sharply. "What made you change your plans, +besides this accident?"</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. He did not dare admit that he had overheard the general +talking.</p> + +<p>"The farther we get from the base of action, the more jittery we get," +he replied.</p> + +<p>"You fellows have to be ordered to take leave," General Miller said and +smiled. "Do your orders allow you such freedom of action?"</p> + +<p>"We feel that they do," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I can't take you. I'm afraid I'd be called to account for +helping you disobey orders." The general's smile had spread into a grin. +"You will go on as you should."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Stan said. They both saluted and walked away.</p> + +<p>"Guess we're sunk," Allison said sourly. "O'Malley will certainly rub it +in when he sees us again. He'll be right in the middle of the big +fight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan was looking at the NATS amphibian and smiling. "We might be able to +thumb a ride with the Navy."</p> + +<p>Allison looked down toward the sea. The Navy boys were getting the big +freighter set to take off.</p> + +<p>"Worth a try, let's go down there."</p> + +<p>They hurried down to the beach. An ensign was handling the shifting of +supplies from the flying boat to a truck. He greeted Stan and Allison in +a friendly manner after glancing at their service stripes.</p> + +<p>"You boys are a bit off your reservation, aren't you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We sure are and we want to get back. How about a ride to Bizerte?"</p> + +<p>"We're not hauling passengers, but if you piled in nobody would throw +you off. We're supposed to cooperate with the Army in every way we can." +The ensign laughed.</p> + +<p>"Great stuff," Allison said. "I'm March Allison and he's Stan Wilson."</p> + +<p>"I'm Bert Thomas," the ensign said. "If you have bags you better get +them aboard. We're about to shove off."</p> + +<p>"We're not taking any bags back," Stan said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> hurriedly. He did not want +to risk having the general order them to go on into Alexandria. In fact, +he did not want the general to know they were going out with the +amphibian.</p> + +<p>"O.K. Just get aboard and find a place to sit down."</p> + +<p>Stan and Allison climbed aboard the freighter. The crew paid no +attention to them but went on lashing cargo into place, cramming all +sorts of odd repair parts into every corner.</p> + +<p>Ensign Thomas came aboard and took his place beside his copilot. Stan +and Allison sat on the only two vacant seats along the arching ribs of +the ship. They were careful not to take the space reserved for the crew.</p> + +<p>The freighter slid out into the bay and soon she was slapping the step +of the lazy waves. A few seconds later she lifted and was off, rising +slowly, roaring along like a gorged pelican. She did not have a machine +gun or a cannon aboard and she was going it alone. The two fighter +pilots, used to a bank of Brownings in front of them, felt uneasy. If a +Heinkel or an Me 110 showed up, the old girl would be a dead duck.</p> + +<p>No enemy planes showed up, however, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> the freighter bored along. +Ahead of them the sun was settling down into the sea, filling the air +with golden haze and making the water glow like sapphire. Just at sunset +the freighter swung inshore and eased down over the harbor at Bizerte. +Two fighter planes from a carrier lying offshore zoomed around her as +she came in. She hit the water and glided in to a mooring.</p> + +<p>"Passengers ashore!" Bert Thomas called back.</p> + +<p>As they piled out Stan and Allison saluted the skipper. "Thanks a +million," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Right fine of you, old man," Allison chimed in.</p> + +<p>"Glad to give you a hand," Thomas said as he turned to the job of +unloading.</p> + +<p>Stan and Allison shoved through the crowds along the docks. They were +eager to get in touch with Colonel Benson and get back on the job. +Everywhere they could see signs of the coming invasion attempt. +Thousands of ships and barges and warcraft lay in the harbor or +offshore. Men swarmed everywhere, while tanks and trucks and mobile guns +rattled down to the water front.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boys caught a ride with an air force truck headed toward their +field. The truck took them to within a few blocks of headquarters. When +they hopped out, Stan said:</p> + +<p>"Here goes nothing. Wonder what the Old Man will say?"</p> + +<p>"We'll be lucky to be able to see him at all. He'll be very busy," +Allison drawled.</p> + +<p>Reaching headquarters they spoke to an orderly. The soldier regarded +them closely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Colonel Benson is in his office."</p> + +<p>"Tell him Lieutenants Wilson and Allison wish to see him." Stan gave the +soldier a look that made him snap to attention.</p> + +<p>"I'll report, sir," he said and made off.</p> + +<p>"He acted as though we were not welcome," Allison remarked.</p> + +<p>"The Old Man probably told him to shoo all pilots away," Stan said. "Now +we better make our story good."</p> + +<p>The orderly returned and nodded toward the fliers. "Colonel Benson will +see you, sir," he said to Stan.</p> + +<p>They moved into the room and found Colonel Benson sitting behind his +desk. He had a pot of coffee, a bowl of soup, and a plate of sandwiches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +before him. His green eyes lifted and swept over the two officers. They +saluted and Stan said:</p> + +<p>"Lieutenants Wilson and Allison reporting for duty, sir."</p> + +<p>The colonel dipped up a spoon of soup and ate it. He selected a +sandwich, lifted the lid and looked at the filling, then took a bite.</p> + +<p>"I believe you gentlemen are under orders to report to Alexandria. I +take it you have made some changes on your own account." The colonel +paused and waited for a reply. His face was expressionless, but his eyes +bored into Stan and Allison.</p> + +<p>"We hoped you would allow us to join Lieutenant O'Malley's command. We +got the idea there might be action on this front soon." Stan stood very +straight and looked the colonel in the eye.</p> + +<p>"What gave you the idea there would be action?" the colonel asked.</p> + +<p>"We got it quite by accident," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"I see. So you canceled the orders of the area commander and returned. +Who brought you back?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Navy, sir." Allison smiled as he said it.</p> + +<p>The colonel grunted. He finished his sandwich and helped himself to more +soup. Finally he spoke.</p> + +<p>"There will be action very soon and we do need pilots," he said blandly. +His eyes dropped to a pad of reports. They were urgent requests from +Wilks and Liske asking to be transferred from O'Malley's ferry flight. +"I have two places I find very difficult to fill, and they happen to be +in Commander O'Malley's flight. I'll assign you men to those places." +His eyes lifted and there was a glint of hardness in them. "For the +duration of the present action," he added grimly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "We will not take up more of your time."</p> + +<p>"One more thing," the colonel said. "I will cancel your leave to +Alexandria. But your new assignment will not free you from any measures +I decide to take later as punishment for your breach of orders. Is that +clear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," both officers answered. They saluted and about-faced.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Outside the door Stan turned to Allison. "The Old Boy isn't such a tough +cookie after all."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sure about that. You know I had a hunch he was spoofing us +all the time." Allison scowled. "I'm sure he was."</p> + +<p>"You smelled a mouse?" Stan grinned.</p> + +<p>"I smelled a very dead one," Allison answered. "Let's locate O'Malley. +He should be over in the quarters reserved for flight commanders."</p> + +<p>They barged into the quarters of the flight officers and looked around. +O'Malley was not present but several men sat at a table playing chess. +They moved over and stood beside the table.</p> + +<p>"We're looking for Commander O'Malley," Stan said.</p> + +<p>One of the boys looked up. He was wearing new and shiny insignia of a +major. He grinned up at Stan and Allison, his eyes taking in their +service stripes.</p> + +<p>"I guess you mean Flight Leader O'Malley," he said. "You should be able +to find him over at Mess Three."</p> + +<p>"So, he's already gotten himself shifted to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> flight leader," Stan said, +matching the major's grin. "How'd he manage it?"</p> + +<p>"By eating a pie while Colonel Benson was delivering a lecture on how to +capture Italy," the major chuckled.</p> + +<p>"So he's back on the firing line. I say, that's just where he wanted to +be," Allison said.</p> + +<p>"No, he didn't rate that well," the major explained. "The Old Man +chucked him into a job of ferrying planes to Malta so we'd have some +reserves in close to Sicily. Less than an hour ago O'Malley told me it +was a quiet and peaceful job, but one he didn't like."</p> + +<p>Stan looked at Allison. "You were right, there was a mouse, a big, dead +one." He nodded to the major. "Thanks, Major," he said.</p> + +<p>They turned away and walked out of the room. Allison laid a hand on +Stan's arm as they turned toward the door of Mess Three.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we surprise O'Malley," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"He'll be in no mood for surprises," Stan answered. "He'll be a wild +man. With the whole Army and Navy getting set to force a beach-head and +him on ferry duty, he'll be red-hot."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We are to fill in on his flight. We might work it so that he wouldn't +know until we take off. We could be a bit late in showing up." There was +a twinkle in Allison's eyes.</p> + +<p>Stan began to grin. "I like the idea," he said. "We're stuck the same as +he is and might as well cheer him up."</p> + +<p>They went to the operations room and located Captain Marks who regarded +them with unbelieving eyes.</p> + +<p>"You mean to say you gave up a vacation trip to Alexandria to take this +ferry job with that wild Irishman, O'Malley?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Stan said with a grin. "We like ferrying. It's the sort of life +for any ambitious officer."</p> + +<p>Captain Marks regarded them intently. "I have your assignments here, but +I haven't seen anything of O'Malley."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you shove them at him the last thing before the flight takes +off. We'd like to surprise him, having been a pal of his for a long +time."</p> + +<p>The captain grinned. "It will be a surprise," he said. "I know about you +three and I'm looking for trouble. O'Malley never looks at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> assignment +or flight orders. And there will be only the three of you." His grin +faded and he scowled at the two pilots. "We'll only lose three ships and +I guess we can afford that."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Captain," Stan said. "Mum's the word. We'll see you before dawn +tomorrow morning."</p> + +<p>They moved out and did not go to Mess Three. They headed out to locate a +spot where they could hide out until flight time.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>BEACH-HEAD</h3> + + +<p>O'Malley grabbed his flight orders. He scowled at Captain Marks. For +once the captain did not insist that he read his orders. O'Malley turned +upon his heel and strode out of the briefing room. He was met in the +darkness outside the office by an officer.</p> + +<p>"You will fly a course over Tunis and approach Malta from due south, +Lieutenant. Colonel Benson's orders. You are to make as many flights as +possible today. There will be heavy action in the straits and you are to +avoid that area." The officer saluted and moved on into the briefing +room.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll do me own settin' o' the course," O'Malley bellowed.</p> + +<p>He was met at his plane by his master mechanic. "You have two new men +today, sir. I have given them a few details of your course."</p> + +<p>"An' I'll be givin' them some more," O'Malley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> growled as he climbed +into the cockpit.</p> + +<p>He settled down and listened for a few minutes to the excited orders +jamming the air. Flights were heading out, bomber squadrons were calling +in or taking orders. O'Malley set his phones on the beam and bent +forward.</p> + +<p>"Get ready, you birds of Ferry Flight," he called in.</p> + +<p>"All set," came back a reply in muffled tones.</p> + +<p>O'Malley wondered who the unlucky fliers were. Some poor saps who had +gotten in bad with Benson, he guessed. He bent down and shouted to the +sergeant.</p> + +<p>"How much ammunition have we?"</p> + +<p>"From now on the ferry ships will be fully loaded. You may run into +trouble, sir."</p> + +<p>O'Malley pulled in his head and kicked on the power. He snapped a +release to his mates and waited for them to get off. He had not taken +the trouble to get their names, so he could not order them off one at a +time. They did not seem to need any instruction. One Lightning wheeled +around and roared away, followed closely by the other. O'Malley grunted +his approval. The two relief men could fly.</p> + +<p>Opening up his engines, O'Malley roared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> after his flight. He tried to +cut across above them but had all he could do to catch up with them. In +the gray dawn he saw that the two new men understood how to get speed +out of a Lockheed P-38. Finally his two men eased over and let him slide +in between them. They closed in, snuggling dangerously close.</p> + +<p>"I'd thank ye for a bit more air," O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>"Are we crowding you, Commander?" a high-pitched voice asked.</p> + +<p>"'Tis not crowdin' me, but I don't trust yer flyin' ability," O'Malley +shot back.</p> + +<p>"You're a bit off course," an unusually gruff voice broke in.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'm flyin' this outfit," O'Malley snapped.</p> + +<p>They were swinging east by north, which headed them for Sicily. O'Malley +scanned the skies as light began to break. Below him the strait was +alive with barges and transports. A British monitor wallowed on its way, +rolling and plunging. Flight after flight of medium bombers fanned out +at low level. High above, the fighter patrols were roaring toward +Sicily. O'Malley scowled as he scanned the scene hopefully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> Not a +German or an Italian plane in sight. It appeared that the best O'Malley +would get for setting his own course was a good view of the invasion +fleet and the opening wedge of the air forces.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the shores of Sicily appeared below, and almost at once +O'Malley was jerked out of his sour mood by a shout from one of his +pilots.</p> + +<p>"Me 110's coming down at four o'clock!"</p> + +<p>"Protect yerselves!" O'Malley shouted eagerly. "Run fer it!"</p> + +<p>"Shall we follow your example?" came in a mocking voice.</p> + +<p>O'Malley started and his mouth popped open. He knew that voice! Then in +came the voice of his other pilot.</p> + +<p>"We'll do as you do, Commander. Lead on!"</p> + +<p>"You spalpeens!" O'Malley bellowed. Then he broke out in a loud laugh. +"Sure, an' the Auld Man made monkeys out of you two."</p> + +<p>There was no more time for happy reunion. Seven Messerschmitts were +coming down after the bombers. They were not interested in the three +Lightnings and hoped that the Yanks flying them had not noticed any +Jerries near by. In this they were very much disappointed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan peeled off and banked steeply. Laying over he rolled into position +and cut out an Me. As the Jerry flashed past his sights, he opened up +and his Brownings sawed a wing off the fighter. He was over and the +Jerry was gone before he was able to see what had happened to the enemy +ship. As he came up he saw that O'Malley was celebrating. He was doing +mad loops and dives that threatened to drive the six Me's out of the sky +before Allison could tangle with one of them. Allison's voice came in, +crisp and exasperated.</p> + +<p>"I say, you Irisher. Lay off and let me have a chance!"</p> + +<p>"Come on in!" O'Malley yelled back and he stalled and dived after an Me.</p> + +<p>The three ferry pilots were finishing off the Jerries when a flight of +six Lightnings and three Airacobras slid down from upstairs and joined +in. There was only one luckless Me left. Three had been shot down and +two had fled. The outnumbered Jerry dived and headed for home.</p> + +<p>Allison and Stan closed in beside O'Malley. Their leader called over to +them.</p> + +<p>"There's a big fight on down there on that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> beach. Looks like the boys +needed some help to keep the Stukas away."</p> + +<p>"We're under your orders, Commander," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you birds stand trial right alongside o' me when we get +back," O'Malley shouted back. He dived and his pals went with him.</p> + +<p>Down they went over the invasion beach-head where sky battles raged as +German and Italian fighter bombers tried to strafe or bomb Yank and +British landing craft.</p> + +<p>Stan leaned over and looked down. The scene below was a stirring one. +Three battlewagons of the cruiser class lay offshore. In closer, a line +of destroyers was blazing fire and smoke as they blasted the shore +batteries of the enemy. A group of torpedo boats darted in and out, +tormenting an enemy ship. Toward the shore and moving from four big +transports came the landing barges: the personnel barges, the tank +carriers, the mechanized armament barges. In swarms they were pouring +toward the shore. In the air above, Yank and R.A.F. fighter pilots +struggled to keep the dive bombers and the torpedo planes from getting +at the ships. This was the zero hour for the boys in the barges.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> Either +they established a beach-head or they failed at terrible cost.</p> + +<p>Stan forgot that he was supposed to be a ferry pilot. He spotted a Stuka +slipping in behind a screen of smoke rising from a burning freighter. +Nosing down, he went after the Stuka. He caught a flash of O'Malley and +Allison going in, too. They were needed, there was no doubt about that. +The German planes were getting through.</p> + +<p>Coming down on the bandit, Stan eased over a bit and flattened out to +come in on the bomber's tail. The Stuka was sloping down toward one of +the transport ships. Stan kicked his throttle on full and raised his +nose until he had the bandit in his sights. His thumb pressed the gun +button and he felt the terrific kick-back from his bank of guns. He saw +the tail and a large part of the rear compartment of the Stuka wobble +and then sheer away. Whirling crazily, smoke billowing up from its torn +body, the Stuka went down, landing with a splash close alongside the +transport. Stan went over the deck of the ship so low, he could see the +grateful Navy boys waving at him.</p> + +<p>Swinging inshore, Stan knifed after a Focke-Wulf<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> 190 which was strafing +the barges. He sent the 190 kiting along the tops of the waves and away +inland. Stan was hot on the tail of the Focke-Wulf. He was sure he would +get in a burst, when suddenly a burst of flak from a ground battery +enveloped him. He felt the steel ripping through his wings. One motor +began to stutter badly. It was then that Stan remembered he was supposed +to deliver his plane to Malta in good condition.</p> + +<p>Easing around, he climbed upward at a slow rate. He was looking for +O'Malley and Allison. He spotted O'Malley by the crazy manner of his +attack against an Me 110 which had closed in upon him. Stan grinned in +spite of the seriousness of their predicament. Half the tail had been +shot off O'Malley's Lightning. She was not handling very well. The Me +had a big edge. Stan went up as fast as his one crippled motor would +take him.</p> + +<p>The Me pitted against O'Malley had the Irishman in a spot. He had +doubled inside O'Malley's loop and was now on his tail. Stan tried hard +to power dive but got only feeble results. He waited grimly, expecting +O'Malley to go down under a hail of Nazi lead. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> O'Malley did not go +down. Another Lightning came roaring down and cut the Me almost in half. +Allison had been looking for O'Malley, too.</p> + +<p>"How about hitting it for Malta, Commander?" Stan called.</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, we better be getting out of here. The boys have +everything under control in this sector," Allison added.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we're headed for home, tuck in close an' follow me," O'Malley +called cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"We better cook up a good report," Stan said grimly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we got waylaid. 'Tis something could happen to anyone flying +ferry planes," O'Malley answered. "Wasn't that the way it happened?"</p> + +<p>"That is a bit of the truth, you know," Allison agreed.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how I'll explain the flak holes I picked up. No Jerry or +Italian plane ever carried five-inch guns," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"We met a enemy battleship," O'Malley said, unconcerned.</p> + +<p>Stan snorted. "The Italian Navy hasn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> poked its nose out of a home +base in over a year. We were supposed to be flying in close to Allied +shores."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you're right," O'Malley answered cheerfully. "But I'll be +thinkin' o' something, niver fear."</p> + +<p>Stan looked down and then up. They had plunged into very soupy weather +with low clouds and some wind. His ship was not taking it very well. +Then it began to rain.</p> + +<p>"You better be thinking of getting us in, one of my engines is about to +conk out on me," he called across.</p> + +<p>"I'm doing foine," O'Malley said. "Hear them signals coming in? That's +the boys on Malta giving us the old signal. We'll ride right in."</p> + +<p>They changed course, heading north. Stan began to frown. It did not seem +right to be heading in that direction. Suddenly they sighted a field +through the rain. O'Malley dived for the field and Stan followed with +Allison close behind. They hit the runway in a drenching rain and rolled +in wing to wing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they were confronted by four trucks. The trucks rolled out and +halted across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> their paths, pulling in close before them so that the +Lightnings could not turn around. Stan stared at the trucks. They +certainly were not Yank or British. Then he saw squads of grinning +Italian soldiers poking machine guns over the sides of the trucks. +Ground men began swarming out. Everyone was smiling.</p> + +<p>"You sure let them call you in," Stan shouted to O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"'Twas a dirty trick, them using our signals to call us in here," +O'Malley fumed.</p> + +<p>"Malta is just across the strait, I'll bet," Allison said. "I've heard +that the Italians use this trick, but I never thought they'd fool the +Irish." There was a mocking note in Allison's voice. "We may as well +climb down like good little boys. They have us covered with a hundred +machine guns."</p> + +<p>"I'm getting out very carefully," Stan said. O'Malley said nothing at +all, but he climbed out and joined Stan and Allison.</p> + +<p>A group of Italian officers crowded around them. All were smiling and +bowing as though welcoming the Yanks. O'Malley scowled at them, but Stan +grinned back and Allison lifted a hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>One of the Italian officers stepped forward. He spoke good English.</p> + +<p>"You are prisoners of war, gentlemen. Come with us." He waved a hand +toward the dim outline of a building.</p> + +<p>The three Yanks were willing to move in out of the rain. They were +drenched to the skin. Before they had reached the place where they were +to be questioned the rain had ceased falling, and the sun had burst +through the clouds. O'Malley was completely disgusted.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I calls that a dirty trick. The weather is against us as well +as iverything else."</p> + +<p>"Please be seated," the Italian officer said as they entered a large +room.</p> + +<p>The three Yanks sat down and waited gloomily. Three high-ranking Italian +officers entered. They spoke swiftly in their native tongue to the +officer who had escorted the boys to the room. Their words were excited +and they made many motions with their hands. O'Malley stared at them +sourly. Finally the junior officer turned to the boys.</p> + +<p>"General Bolero wishes to ask you some questions."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>The general smiled as he put the questions. "We wish to know how many +planes and how many ships you are using. Also we wish to know at what +places your forces plan to land."</p> + +<p>Stan spoke up. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide.</p> + +<p>"No one can answer those questions but our high command. We are only +ferry pilots as you will see if you examine the flight orders of our +leader." He nodded toward O'Malley.</p> + +<p>The general turned and spoke quickly to the other officers in Italian. +They looked at O'Malley and talked some more, then the general turned to +O'Malley. Before he could speak, O'Malley cut in:</p> + +<p>"What I want to know is who's responsible for the trick that was pulled +on us?"</p> + +<p>The general smiled and his medal-covered chest expanded at O'Malley's +question.</p> + +<p>"I am honored that you appreciate my clever trick," he said affably.</p> + +<p>O'Malley scowled at the general. "'Tis a foul trick," he said. "I have +been insulted an' I'll get even with you."</p> + +<p>Stan broke in to avoid O'Malley's getting into real action against the +general.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with us?"</p> + +<p>"You will be flown to one of our prison camps on the mainland. You will +be treated strictly according to International Law," the general +answered.</p> + +<p>"How soon?" Stan asked. He was thinking the paratroopers might take over +this airfield very soon. He knew they would be hitting the coastal +fields in order to give the boys spots to work from that were closer to +Italy than the African coast.</p> + +<p>"At once, at once," the general said and he seemed suddenly nervous.</p> + +<p>"We are in no hurry, old man," Allison said and grinned.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but we are in a very great hurry," put in the junior officer. +"General Bolero is leaving at once. You will be flown out in, say, +twenty minutes. I am so sorry there will be no time for dry clothes." He +bowed and nodded to four soldiers armed with rifles who had appeared +through a side door. "You will go with the guards."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>PRISON SHIP</h3> + + +<p>The three Yanks were rushed out upon the parade ground at the Italian +base. Two squads of shouting Italian soldiers escorted them. They burst +upon a scene of confusion and excitement. Stan looked across the grounds +toward the runways. Suddenly he burst out laughing and poked Allison in +the ribs.</p> + +<p>"Look! His Nibs is deserting us!"</p> + +<p>General Bolero was leading his staff toward a parked plane. For a big +fat man he was making fast time. His cape floated out behind him and he +had lost his jaunty cap. His officers were loaded down with brief cases, +files, and bundles of papers. The general was a full ten paces ahead of +them.</p> + +<p>"I'd call that a rout," Allison shouted.</p> + +<p>"I think our outfits must be closing in. We'll have to do some +stalling," Stan shouted.</p> + +<p>O'Malley was already stalling. Four men were pushing him along, and he +was beginning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> to show signs of temper. Stan tried to get close enough +to shout a warning to him. He did not want O'Malley to start a riot at +that moment.</p> + +<p>The Italians were evacuating the base in every sort of machine they had. +Cars roared across the field, men pedaled by on bicycles, trucks +lumbered past, and a whippet tank snorted as it rolled past dragging a +field gun. Men on foot rushed in every direction.</p> + +<p>Stan stumbled and went down, managing to trip two soldiers. Instantly a +dozen Italians were upon him, tugging at him, waving their rifles and +shouting. O'Malley took this as a signal to go into action. He swung +hard on the chin of an officer standing beside him. The surprised +officer went down like a felled beef. With a yell O'Malley waded in, +swinging at soldiers as they piled in on him. Many bloody noses and +black eyes developed in a hurry, but O'Malley was swarmed under by the +weight of sheer numbers. He went down yelling like a Comanche Indian and +swinging like Joe Louis.</p> + +<p>Stan struggled to his feet and held up his hands. He realized the +uselessness of fighting against such odds. The melee O'Malley had caused +had drawn almost a company of Italians<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> to the spot. Allison had managed +to stay on his feet, but he had suffered from rough handling along with +Stan and O'Malley. His uniform, which was wet and sagging, had been torn +in a dozen places.</p> + +<p>"Go quietly!" an Italian officer bellowed. He had just arrived on the +scene. "Go quietly or you will be sorry!"</p> + +<p>"We're going, call off your dogs!" Stan shouted.</p> + +<p>The officer shouted orders in Italian and soon restored a semblance of +order. Allison called across to Stan.</p> + +<p>"Have a look above, and you'll see what all the excitement is about."</p> + +<p>Stan looked into the sky and caught his breath. The paratroopers were +coming. Low over the hilly country a fleet of transports and gliders +swept in from the sea. They swept along in perfect formation like giant +birds seeking a tree to light upon. Above them fighter planes wove in +and out, while on either side fighter-bombers roared along. It was a +beautiful sight.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Yank air soldiers began to pile out. The sky blossomed with +colored parachutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> until the blue was thickly dotted with them like a +field crowded with spring flowers. They came floating down with machine +guns and supply hassocks dangling from their chutes. On a slope above +the field a glider nosed in. It slid to a halt and a jeep bounded out of +its fat, rounded snout. Another glider slid in and a tank rolled out of +it almost before it had slid to a halt. The slope above them was already +swarming with Yanks, and machine guns were rattling.</p> + +<p>Stan looked around desperately. They were being rushed toward a big +truck. He made one last attempt to slow down their retreat. Shaking off +the men who held him, he ducked his head and hit the line of soldiers +like a blocking back clearing a path for a ball carrier. Two Italians +went down, one under a straight, stiff arm and the other from a solid +body-block. Then a soldier clipped Stan across the head with the butt of +his rifle. Stan went down on his face and lay still.</p> + +<p>O'Malley had started his fight again, but this time the Italians were +not wasting precious minutes. O'Malley got a rap such as the one that +had felled Stan. Allison went down under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> a pile of soldiers. Two +minutes later the three Yanks, out cold, were dumped into the truck and +it was rumbling away along a paved road.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Stan groaned and opened his eyes. The truck was so +packed with soldiers that he was forced to sit up, even though he had +been out limp and cold. His head throbbed and felt twice its normal +size. Turning it a little he could look out over the side of the truck. +They were rolling along a winding road, climbing in low gear. Looking +back Stan saw the battlefield they had just left.</p> + +<p>The Yank airborne troops had swarmed onto the airfield. Already two big +Yank planes had landed and men were spilling out to take over the field. +With a groan Stan looked up. Twisting his head caused pains to shoot up +and down his neck. He saw that the paratroopers were still coming in. A +field of white chutes filled the air, while behind them dropped the +varicolored chutes carrying equipment and ammunition. Gliders were +casting off their toggle hooks and swooping earthward. Equipped with +tommy-guns, folding rifles, mortars, folding bicycles, bazookas and +light artillery, the air soldiers swarmed down.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly excited shouts from the Italians in the truck made Stan look up +again. A fighter-bomber was roaring down toward the truck. Stan saw that +there were three trucks in the group and that they were closely bunched, +an ideal target for the diving Yank. Grimly he watched the hundred-pound +egg slide free as the bomber lifted and zoomed upward. The deadly +missile seemed to hang in the air for a moment, though it grew bigger +and bigger every second. It appeared to be aimed straight at the last +truck in line, which was their transport. Stan looked about for Allison +and O'Malley.</p> + +<p>His pals were standing against the side of the truck, wedged in by +soldiers. They both looked weak and shaken. O'Malley was almost without +clothes. Then the bomb hit. It landed in a bank just behind the truck. A +great upheaval of earth and rocks lifted into the air and showered over +the truck. One rear tire exploded with a bang and the truck began to +wobble and jolt as it swayed along.</p> + +<p>Then they broke over the top of the ridge and went careening down a +steep slope. Five minutes later they had reached cover in an avenue of +trees. But the Italians did not halt for repairs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> They wanted to put as +many miles as possible between them and the Yank air army before their +gas ran out.</p> + +<p>An hour later the truck limped into another airfield which had not been +attacked. It was tucked away in a circle of hills with wooded slopes +reaching down to a little valley. Here they found they had overtaken +General Bolero. He was out on the field rushing about, shouting orders +and apparently getting ready to take off again. His staff was trailing +him about, with their bundles and brief cases and files.</p> + +<p>Stan and his pals were rushed into a small barracks room. The junior +officer who spoke English had charge of them, backed by a dozen guards.</p> + +<p>"We will supply you with clothing," he said, casting his eye over their +ragged uniforms.</p> + +<p>The clothing turned out to be blue shirts and bright green dungaree +overalls. O'Malley glared at the officer. Stan grinned as he slipped +into his outfit.</p> + +<p>"It would save you a lot of trouble if you just turned us loose," he +suggested.</p> + +<p>"You will not escape. You will be sent to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> Italy." The officer matched +O'Malley's glare. "Sicily can never be taken. Our infallible leader +Mussolini has said Sicily can never be taken." He waved his hands +excitedly. "Your forces will be driven into the sea."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you a bottle of your finest wine that half of the island is +already taken," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"I say, why don't you kick the Germans out and help us along?" Allison +asked. He felt he might touch a sore spot in mentioning the Germans.</p> + +<p>The shot hit home. A flush spread over the face of the officer. "The +Nazi dogs," he snapped. "We will deal with them after we have used them +to help us."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' they'll treat you like they did the Poles," O'Malley said. +"An' it will serve you right well, you spalpeens."</p> + +<p>"We'd like to stop over here and rest a bit," Stan cut in. "We realize +you treated us roughly because we made you a lot of trouble. We'll give +you our parole. There'll be no more rough stuff."</p> + +<p>"You talkin' fer me?" O'Malley growled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am," Stan said and gave O'Malley a hard look. "We'll see that you're +a nice, well-behaved boy."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," Allison said, catching Stan's idea that he was playing for +time. Even if they gave their parole it would not prevent their being +captured by the Yanks.</p> + +<p>The officer smiled knowingly. "You would like to stay here. You think +your air troops will take over this field. No, we will not be so +foolish. You leave for Italy in one hour." He turned and marched out, +after giving orders to the guards.</p> + +<p>"That's that," Stan said. "But we still have a chance. He didn't accept +our parole."</p> + +<p>"They ought to be usin' their men to fight an' not be after keepin' a +whole company here as guards," O'Malley grumbled.</p> + +<p>"After the show you put on, they need a company," Stan snapped. "If we'd +been good boys, they might have left us with a couple of guards."</p> + +<p>"Who started the fuss?" O'Malley demanded.</p> + +<p>"I stumbled, but that was just to slow down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> the procession," Stan +answered. "I'll admit it was a mistake."</p> + +<p>"We'd better be doing some heavy thinking," Allison warned. "If we don't +we'll spend the rest of this campaign in a prison camp."</p> + +<p>There was no time for thinking and very little chance to talk. The Yanks +were hustled out to the runways and loaded into a shaky and battered +Fiat 20, two-engine bomber. They were escorted by the two squads of +guards who stood around with rifles at ready until the plane started +down the runway.</p> + +<p>Stan was squeezed in between O'Malley and Allison. The space inside the +bomber was very limited, for it was not intended as a passenger plane. +Besides the pilot and copilot, two men armed with pistols sat in the +cramped quarters. The Italians had very thoughtfully provided their +prisoners with parachutes. One of the guards spoke English and was not +unwilling to talk. Stan singled him out at once.</p> + +<p>"I have been in America," the guard said in a friendly fashion.</p> + +<p>"What city?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"New York. I stay one year."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Didn't you like it?" Stan asked with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Sure, it was much good. I come back for my brother and then there is +war. I must stay." The soldier shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"After the war you'll be going back?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure. It is a fine place to live, New York. I make plenty money, got +friends." The soldier smiled. "I will see you then."</p> + +<p>Stan laughed. "You sure will." His eyes were on the back of the pilot's +neck. If O'Malley reached out he could touch the man flying the plane. +Stan bent forward, at the same time signaling O'Malley with his knee in +short and long taps. O'Malley finally woke up and answered the Morse +SOS. As Stan talked to the soldier he also telegraphed to O'Malley and +later to Allison.</p> + +<p>What Stan suggested was that they get control of the two pistols. The +friendly soldier was bending closer. Stan would offer to show him some +pictures from America that he had in his wallet. He would get the man +off guard and when he had a chance would grab his pistol and push him +over into the cramped back part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> of the ship. O'Malley and Allison would +have to get the other pistol.</p> + +<p>"I think I have some pictures you may recognize," Stan said. He fished +out a wallet which the Italians had not taken from him. Opening it he +pulled out several snapshots of planes he had piloted at one time or +another, but he held them so that the soldier had to bend forward. The +guard leaned over almost against Stan.</p> + +<p>Like a flash Stan's hand shot out and he had the pistol. He lunged +forward at the same instant, planting his head in the guard's chest. The +soldier went over his stool and landed in a cramped position in the +narrow waist of the plane.</p> + +<p>O'Malley had leaped the instant Stan's hand shot out. Allison did a good +imitation of an American tackle. The second guard lost his gun but put +up a tussle. Stan wedged past the struggling men and jammed the pistol +barrel into the neck of the pilot.</p> + +<p>"We'll take over now," he snapped.</p> + +<p>The pilot cringed forward while the copilot turned about. Stan circled +his neck with an arm and cinched down tight. Before the copilot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> could +wiggle free, O'Malley was up forward with the other pistol. The copilot +lifted his hands. His face was white and he seemed scared.</p> + +<p>"Drag him back and tuck him away with the guards," Stan ordered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley and Allison dragged the copilot back and crowded him into the +narrow rear compartment with the others. Allison stood guard over them, +while O'Malley and Stan took over from the pilot. The pilot was not +afraid of the Yanks. He did signals of distress with his wings and put +the ship into a dive before Stan laid him out with a rap over the head. +Sliding into the seat Stan began to fight the old Fiat to get her out of +a spin.</p> + +<p>She was going down, twisting and shuddering in every rivet and stay. +O'Malley finally climbed up front and grabbed the free set of controls. +They heaved her out of her spin just in time. Their wings fanned the +tops of a grove of trees and they had to lay over to miss the spire of a +church.</p> + +<p>"I can handle her now," Stan called across. "I'll go up a bit and then +you get back there and have the Italians bail out. We won't need<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> any +prisoners. If they kick about it, tell them we'll be setting this ship +down on a Malta air strip. That ought to make them bail out." Stan +grinned at O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' it ought to," O'Malley agreed. "No Fiat iver got to land on +Malta under her own power. We'll be shot to kindlin' wood."</p> + +<p>"Maybe we won't go to Malta, but that's where we're headed until they +bail out," Stan laughed.</p> + +<p>O'Malley went back and within a few minutes the Italian crew was +unloading. O'Malley had convinced them the plane was headed for Malta +and they wanted none of the reception they knew an Italian plane would +get over that base.</p> + +<p>Stan watched them sail down, one after another. As the last parachute +blossomed out, Allison and O'Malley crowded forward. Stan had swung due +south, and was holding that course.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you see what you can do with the radio," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Allison laughed. "There isn't any radio and there isn't a gun aboard +this ship, except our two pistols."</p> + +<p>"Fine," Stan said and opened the old Fiat up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> a bit more. "In that case +we better get in before dark."</p> + +<p>"You better be after rememberin' that I'm commander o' this outfit," +O'Malley broke in.</p> + +<p>"All right, Commander, the ship is yours." Stan eased over a bit. With a +grin O'Malley squeezed into the pilot's seat.</p> + +<p>"Now you can be after givin' the orders," he said. "Where in blazes are +we?"</p> + +<p>"We're over Italy," Stan said. "I think the town we just flew over was +Cosenza, up the coast from Reggio."</p> + +<p>"Do you be after thinkin' that's water ahead?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>They looked ahead and saw a strip of water and a long beach. Stan +frowned. "Must be the Gulf of Taranto. I guess I'm a bit mixed up."</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, we better swing around and head southwest," Allison +said.</p> + +<p>"We could fly to Africa," O'Malley remarked.</p> + +<p>"Not on our gas supply. The Italians must be short of gas. They +certainly didn't fill this crate up." Allison's mocking grin appeared at +the corners of his mouth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How much? Don't be holdin' out secrets on us," O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>"It's only a wild guess, but I'd say about forty minutes."</p> + +<p>O'Malley gave a startled yelp and spun the ship around to a south by +west course. "Sure, an' we're gettin' out o' here," he said.</p> + +<p>Allison slipped into the copilot's seat while Stan sat on a folding +stool behind him. O'Malley gave all his attention to nursing speed out +of the old ship. He got her air-speed indicator up to two hundred and +fifty miles per hour, but the indicator needle was bent, so there was no +sure way of knowing how fast they were going. They left the expanse of +water behind and headed over a rugged country. Stan felt certain they +were flying down the toe of the Italian boot.</p> + +<p>Everything was going fine when Stan spotted fighter planes above them +and to the west. He did not say anything until the craft were near +enough to be identified.</p> + +<p>"Nine Airacobras off your port wing at two o'clock, Commander," he +shouted.</p> + +<p>O'Malley craned his neck and squinted, then he began to grin. "Sure, an' +there is," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> "It's an escort we've been needin'. Likely the boys +will know the way home."</p> + +<p>"Certainly they will," Allison said. "And they'll know a Fiat BR 20, +also. This crate looks like a bomber."</p> + +<p>"We better duck and go downstairs for a bit of hedge-hopping," Stan +advised. The Airacobras had spotted the lone bomber and were peeling off +like hounds scenting a buck.</p> + +<p>O'Malley did not need any suggestions as to what to do. He nosed the +Fiat over and sent her down the chute in a screaming dive that +threatened to pull the wings off her. Stan glanced at his chute harness +to make sure everything was in order. He figured O'Malley would fold up +the Fiat like an old accordion when he started to pull her out of the +dive.</p> + +<p>The Airacobras rapidly overtook the bomber, even though she was +power-diving far beyond her limit of stability. Stan saw one of the boys +flash in on their tail.</p> + +<p>"Kite her!" he bellowed. "Stinger on your tail!"</p> + +<p>O'Malley and Allison both hauled back and the Fiat wobbled and staggered +as she started to lift. Stan could hear her joints giving way,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> then she +bounced. Lead whistled below them, while the Airacobra roared down the +trail of its own bullets.</p> + +<p>"Close," Allison muttered.</p> + +<p>Stan squinted up and back. Two more fighters were lining up. It seemed +plain that they were surprised at the antics of the Fiat. They had never +seen one do stunts like that before. The two came raking in, blasting +from longer range. Stan felt the lead rip through the Fiat's wings and +body. One bullet plunked through close to his head, ripping a big hole, +another exploded back in the tail compartment and half of the peninsula +could be seen through the hole.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' they need shootin' practice!" O'Malley bellowed as he slipped +off on one wing, did a stall, and laid over for another dive. They were +now close to the treetops. Another Airacobra dived in and when it zoomed +away, they were minus one wing tip and their port engine was stuttering. +But they were down among the treetops and O'Malley was hedge-hopping +like a wild man. They missed an ancient castle set on a cliff. How +O'Malley managed it he himself did not know. One wing lifted and the +turrets of the old castle slipped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> under. Down they went into a little +valley, fanning the treetops. One motor was dead and the other was not +putting out much power.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they realized that they were being covered by flak fired from a +field ahead of them. The barrage was fierce and concentrated. It sent +the Yank fighters kiting up to a safer level. The boys felt sure of +their kill anyway. The Fiat had started to billow smoke out of the tail +compartment where an incendiary shell had lodged.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather bail out than land in this thing!" Allison shouted.</p> + +<p>O'Malley shook his head and grinned. "Not one chance, she won't lift a +foot. Here goes for a belly landing!"</p> + +<p>They skimmed over a row of trees and headed for an open field surrounded +by woods. The Fiat gave up the ghost halfway across the field. She just +settled down and hit the earth in a cloud of smoke and dust. Twisting +and turning she plowed her way toward the far tree line. Finally she +whirled around and piled up. The dust and smoke was so thick the three +Yanks could see nothing. Pawing and struggling they fought their way out +of the mass of wreckage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> They heard men shouting all around them. +Bursting out of the smoke and dust, they found themselves surrounded by +fifty or more German soldiers.</p> + +<p>For a moment the Germans were as surprised as the three Yanks. They had +expected to rescue a crew of Italian fliers. The men before them were +dressed in the garb of Italian civilians. An officer bellowed an order +and the Germans charged in.</p> + +<p>There was no place to run, except out on the open field, and that would +have been suicide because a half dozen of the Germans were armed with +tommy-guns. The Yanks just stood waiting for the Germans to reach them. +The officer in command of the rescue group, a tall fellow with a saber +scar on his cheek, halted before them and regarded them critically. +Slowly a sarcastic smile formed on his lips. He spoke to them sharply in +Italian.</p> + +<p>Stan answered in English. "We are officers of the United States Army."</p> + +<p>The officer looked blank but another officer who had come up broke in, +speaking clipped but perfect English.</p> + +<p>"American fliers dressed as Italian civilians."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> He raised his eyebrows. +"We can thank your fighters for shooting you down. Your spy system is +very dumb, indeed. Your fighter planes should have known better."</p> + +<p>"We were Italian prisoners of war. Our uniforms were ruined. As a matter +of courtesy the Italians furnished us what clothing they had." Stan +spoke stiffly. "We demand the rights of prisoners of war."</p> + +<p>"We will decide what rights you have, but I believe you will be shot as +spies." The officer turned to his superior and spoke in rapid German.</p> + +<p>Allison had said nothing at all. O'Malley just glared at his captors, +his big hands balled into fists. Stan moved close to him.</p> + +<p>"Keep your shirt on. We're in a tight spot," he said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Quiet, you!" bellowed the officer. "Do not talk to each other."</p> + +<p>The ranking officer shouted a command and three German soldiers with +machine guns closed in behind the boys.</p> + +<p>"March!" the younger officer snapped.</p> + +<p>They marched toward the woods. The officer moved stiffly ahead. The boys +realized that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> escape from two squads of Italians would have been much +easier than escape from the three Germans. They seemed eager to use +their deadly tommy-guns.</p> + +<p>"I understand German, you know," Allison murmured as he bumped against +Stan. Stan moved closer to his pal and Allison went on.</p> + +<p>"The commander is very angry because they were forced to open up on our +fighters. Now the location of their guns is known. He is also eager to +learn something about the strength of our air forces attacking Sicily +and heading for Italy. He hinted we would be baited on by a promise of +being treated as prisoners of war if we talked."</p> + +<p>"We won't talk," Stan muttered. "Anyway, we don't know anything."</p> + +<p>Entering the woods they found themselves in a cleverly hidden camp. The +boys were lodged in a barracks room with barred windows. Two other +prisoners, both Italians, were in the room. A guard stood at the door, +while several others paced up and down outside.</p> + +<p>"Looks snug and tight," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we'll soon find out," O'Malley growled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll go into a huddle and cook up something," Stan said. "We're not in +the hands of Italians now, and I don't feel up to facing a firing +squad."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>FIRING SQUAD</h3> + + +<p>The three Yanks seated themselves on a rough bench in their cell. The +two Italian prisoners looked them over without interest, then went back +to their own talk, which they were carrying on in whispers. Every once +in a while they shot glances at the boys as though fearing they were +trying to hear what was being said.</p> + +<p>"Suspicious chaps, what?" Allison said, amused.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what they were thrown in for?" Stan mused.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' it matters very little. What happens to Mrs. O'Malley's boy +is what's worryin' me," O'Malley broke in. "Ivery window is fastened as +tight as the purse o' a Scotsman an' the door is well guarded."</p> + +<p>"They'll be coming after us very soon," Stan said. "They'll question us +one at a time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'd best act as commander," O'Malley said. "I might plant a fist on +the nose o' one o' their generals."</p> + +<p>"I say, that's a fine idea," Allison agreed. "Stan, you are in command."</p> + +<p>It was natural for them to turn to Stan. He had always been the most +level-headed of the three in tight spots. He grinned at them.</p> + +<p>"We'll see who they pick," he answered. "But we don't talk."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the junior officer who spoke English appeared. He +shoved past the guard and stood at the barred door. The two Italian +prisoners stopped talking at once. The boys did not get up from their +bench. They returned the stare of the officer. His eyes moved over them +and paused on Stan.</p> + +<p>"Are you in command?"</p> + +<p>"I am in command," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"Come with me. The colonel is very reasonable. If you are not pig-headed +you may be treated as prisoners of war."</p> + +<p>Stan got to his feet. One of the Italians had risen. He looked at Stan +closely. Suddenly Stan turned back to his pals and bent close to them. +In a whisper he said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be careful. I just got the idea those Italians may be planted in here +to listen to what we say."</p> + +<p>"Come on, you," the officer snapped.</p> + +<p>Stan moved to the iron grating. Pulling a bunch of keys out of the side +pocket of his tunic, the guard unlocked the door. Stan stepped out on a +narrow walk which led to a row of doors. The officer marched stiffly at +his side. At a glance Stan saw that the place was well guarded. Not less +than a dozen men with rifles were spotted within sight of the guardhouse +and of the buildings grouped around it.</p> + +<p>"You will do well to answer all questions truthfully and in detail. +Colonel Kittle is a man of action." The officer gave decided emphasis to +the last words.</p> + +<p>Stan did not reply. They were entering a big room with wall cabinets and +a desk. Chairs ringed the desk on which lay various trophies and gadgets +such as might have decorated the room of any flight lieutenant. Stan +spotted a piece out of a Hurricane fighter. There was an American Colt +forty-five automatic and a Russian helmet.</p> + +<p>Behind the desk sat the tall officer with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> saber scar across his +cheek. Stan sized him up as a Prussian military man of the old school. +Now that he had a good chance to look at the colonel he saw that the man +was hollow-eyed, his skin was drawn tightly over his cheekbones, and his +short, cropped hair was streaked with gray. Stan snapped a salute, not +knowing exactly why he did it.</p> + +<p>The colonel returned the salute and waved a bony hand toward a chair. +Stan seated himself. The officer went on regarding him intently. The +junior officer seated himself beside Stan and waited. Finally the +colonel spoke in German. The young officer frowned, then began +translating.</p> + +<p>"The colonel wishes to compliment you. The Americans have done very well +in Africa."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Stan answered warily.</p> + +<p>"He sees no reason why you should not be classed as a prisoner of war." +The young officer's lip curled. He turned to the colonel and waited.</p> + +<p>The colonel spoke for some little time. When he stopped talking the +young lieutenant faced Stan.</p> + +<p>"We wish to know the approximate number<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> of fighter and bomber craft +based upon Africa. It would be helpful if you could add information +regarding additional troops moved in to assist in the action against +Italy."</p> + +<p>Stan smiled. "My compliments to the colonel. Tell him I am not at +liberty to give such information."</p> + +<p>The officer scowled. He translated and the colonel smiled back at Stan.</p> + +<p>"That will be all," the young officer snapped. It was plain the young +officer did not like the way his commander was handling matters.</p> + +<p>Stan was marched back to his cell. The young officer hurried away. When +he was out of hearing, Stan spoke in low tones to his pals. He now +noticed that the Italians seemed interested and were trying to listen.</p> + +<p>"The old boy with the scar is commander. He's a Prussian officer of the +old school and does not think much of the Nazi methods. He seems to have +convinced himself that we are really officers and told the truth about +our clothes."</p> + +<p>"I'll get more dope," Allison said. "I can understand their talk."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the young officer returned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> and took Allison to the +office. O'Malley and Stan sat waiting for his return. The Italians sat +with their backs against the wall in silence. Fifteen minutes passed and +then Allison returned. The boys went into a huddle.</p> + +<p>"The colonel is not in favor of using the third degree on us. He says he +has reports on us from the Italians and knows we are prisoners of war. +He said all this in German. The young lieutenant seems to be in with the +Gestapo. I gathered that they hate each other." Allison paused and +grinned. "The old boy told him off plenty, but the kid is stubborn. He's +going over the head of the colonel, so we may have trouble."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll bet the colonel can get tough, just the same," O'Malley +cut in.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's as hard as nails but he has the old rules well trained into +him. He'll do whatever the big shots order. Guess who the big boy in +Italy is."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't make a stab," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Rommel himself. He's to keep us from breaching the continent. Remember +how Herr Goebbels has been shouting that the Allies could never break +into the European fortress?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> Well Rommel is going to see that we don't +crack through." Allison laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we'll give 'em the same pastin' we gave him in Africa," +O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>An hour passed and O'Malley was not called in. Supper of bread and thin +soup arrived and with it came the Gestapo officer. He seated himself on +a stool outside the bars and talked while the boys ate. O'Malley looked +at the food, then turned to the officer.</p> + +<p>"'Tis not fit for a hog, this food."</p> + +<p>"That's why you are getting it," the officer said and laughed loudly.</p> + +<p>"We are entitled to decent rations," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"What does it matter about the rations? I have just talked by radio to +headquarters. Unless you give us the information we want, you will be +shot. I have the order with me." He leered at the boys triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Pleasant sort of folks, you Nazis," Allison drawled.</p> + +<p>"I will attend to the execution myself, tomorrow morning. You will have +tonight to think things over." He got to his feet and kicked aside the +stool.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan finished his tin of soup and stood up. He walked to the barred +door. The guard swung around and made a menacing motion with his rifle. +Stan grinned at him and stepped back. He was convinced the Gestapo +officer had told the guards to shoot on the least provocation, he could +read it in the man's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Be careful," he said as he seated himself again. "The guards have been +told to get rid of us if they can find any excuse."</p> + +<p>"I'd as soon be shot by a guard as a firing squad," Allison said.</p> + +<p>"We might get the fellow up near the bars and get his keys," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. "But how?"</p> + +<p>"We'll get over near the door and start to whisper with our backs to +him. See if we can tease him up close," Stan suggested.</p> + +<p>They moved over near the grating and began whispering. The guard stood +watching them. He was a full ten feet from the door and did not move. +His expressionless, beefy face showed not a flicker of interest. Finally +the boys gave it up.</p> + +<p>"He has about as much curiosity as a turtle," Stan said sourly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure, an' they may put on a guard with a brain," O'Malley said +hopefully.</p> + +<p>They sat down and tried to think up another scheme. At midnight the +guard was changed and they tried their trick on the new man. He was less +interested than the first one. He turned his back on them and let them +whisper. The boys gave it up and sat down to wait.</p> + +<p>They dozed off after a time. O'Malley stretched out on the floor and +went to sleep. Stan and Allison remained on the bench, leaning back +against the wall. The clatter of trucks and shouting of soldiers wakened +them. Daylight was breaking and the camp seemed to be getting set for +some sort of action. Presently the young officer appeared. He glared at +the three Yanks.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready to talk?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"No," Stan answered. The others shook their heads.</p> + +<p>"In that case I will waste no time. You will be shot within the hour." +He turned to the Italian prisoners and spoke in German to one of them. +His words were harsh and his attitude showed he had no respect for the +men.</p> + +<p>One of the prisoners answered in German.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> His words were angry and he +was defiant. Suddenly Allison stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"I say, old man," he addressed the officer. "I've changed my mind. There +is some information I could give the colonel."</p> + +<p>"Come along then," the officer snapped. He shot a few words at the +Italians as he motioned for the guard to open the door.</p> + +<p>Stan grabbed Allison's arm. "You can't do it, fellow," he said.</p> + +<p>Allison turned on him. "You may want to die and become a hero, but I'd +rather be a live war prisoner. I say, get your hands off me."</p> + +<p>Stan started to pull Allison back. With a quick movement Allison planted +a fist on Stan's jaw. It was a hard right cross and set Stan back on his +heels.</p> + +<p>The officer laughed loudly. "Now you are acting quite as you should, you +swine."</p> + +<p>"Let me get a crack at him," O'Malley howled. "The traitor!"</p> + +<p>He was blocked by the bayonet of the guard. Allison walked out of the +cell. He paused and looked back. There was a mocking leer on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, saps," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan slumped down on the bench. O'Malley marched up and down fuming and +ranting. Twenty minutes passed and a soldier came to the cell. He +escorted the Italians out of the room. Stan got to his feet and walked +to the door. He was attracted by marching feet on the gravel outside.</p> + +<p>Looking out he saw a squad of men with rifles. The squad leader halted +them and faced them toward a wall. Their rifle butts hit the gravel and +they stood rigid, with their backs to the cell door. Stan noticed that +mortar had been knocked from the surface of the wall. He could see many +splattered places and many bullet holes in that wall. Turning around he +looked at O'Malley, who had seated himself.</p> + +<p>"The reception committee has arrived," he said calmly.</p> + +<p>O'Malley got to his feet and walked to the door. In silence they stood +looking out at their executioners. The squad leader was looking their +way. He seemed eager to get at the business he had to perform.</p> + +<p>Two officers appeared and halted before the squad leader. He saluted and +the three talked briefly. The officers turned toward the guardhouse.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +They spoke to the guard and he produced his keys. The door was opened +and one of the officers spoke in broken English.</p> + +<p>"Come now."</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley walked out of the room. One of the officers produced +two strips of cloth and held them out. Stan shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No blindfold for me," he said evenly.</p> + +<p>"Get them rags away," O'Malley growled. "I'll be lookin' ye in the eye, +ye spalpeens."</p> + +<p>Walking between the two officers, they marched out across the grounds +toward the wall. Reaching it, they faced the men with rifles at rest.</p> + +<p>"Get it over with," Stan snapped.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll bet Allison will be sorry he isn't here," O'Malley said +gloomily.</p> + +<p>The officers moved back and took up positions beside the firing squad. +Suddenly a jangle of angry and excited voices broke loose from the +direction of the colonel's quarters. A door burst open and a big fat man +plunged out upon the parade ground.</p> + +<p>"General Bolero!" Stan gasped.</p> + +<p>It was General Bolero and he was red-faced with anger. Behind him came +Colonel Kittle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> the Gestapo officer, the two Italian prisoners, and +Allison. The general charged across the grounds and halted before the +two officers in charge of the firing squad. He jumped up and down and +shouted, waving his arms wildly all the time. Colonel Kittle came up and +halted. He snapped an order to the officers.</p> + +<p>The Gestapo officer was shouting loudly, but he was no match for the +general, who bellowed so loudly that the medals on his chest danced up +and down.</p> + +<p>The firing squad suddenly came to life. They shouldered their rifles, +about-faced, and marched away. Stan and O'Malley walked over to the +group.</p> + +<p>The general ceased shouting and looked at the two Yank airmen. He puffed +out his cheeks and said:</p> + +<p>"A thousand apologies, gentlemen. I am ashamed. Italy is shamed. This +could not be." He faced the colonel. "These are my prisoners, Colonel. I +am taking them with me."</p> + +<p>Colonel Kittle saluted and nodded. The Gestapo officer whirled and raced +away.</p> + +<p>"We will go quickly," the general said to the boys, "before the suckling +pig receives more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> orders from his superiors." He bowed deeply to the +colonel and faced about.</p> + +<p>"I have given our promise to go with him," Allison said. "It was the +only way to save your necks."</p> + +<p>They marched away beside the general. Beyond the buildings they came to +a big car with an army driver. General Bolero himself opened the door, +and the boys seated themselves in the rear seat. The general climbed in +the front seat with his driver. He sat very stiffly but every once in a +while he sputtered like the fuse on a firecracker.</p> + +<p>The car rolled up a shady road, past many guards, and on into a wide +highway. Stan turned to Allison.</p> + +<p>"How did you work it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I heard one of those Italian prisoners say he demanded to see General +Bolero. The officer told him Bolero was in Colonel Kittle's office. I +thought there might be a slim chance if I could get to the general, so I +pretended to be ready to turn traitor." Allison chuckled. "You should +have seen the general," he lowered his voice, "when I told him we were +to be shot as spies."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's a good egg, but for how long did you give our parole?" Stan asked. +He was worried because a military parole is something a soldier does not +break.</p> + +<p>"Thirty days," Allison replied. "It was the best deal I could make."</p> + +<p>"Thirty days!" Stan repeated. "Italy will be captured by that time and +we'll miss the show."</p> + +<p>Allison grinned. "You know, I got the idea the general figured Italy +would be out of the war by then."</p> + +<p>"'Tis the first time I iver promised to stay in jail," O'Malley said +sadly. "But after lookin' down the barrels o' them Nazi rifles, I'm not +kickin' on the bargain."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we'd have missed all of the show if Allison hadn't outsmarted that +Gestapo officer," Stan agreed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>REST CURE</h3> + + +<p>General Bolero took his prisoners to a villa a few miles from Naples. +Here they had comfortable quarters and good food. They saw little of the +general, as he was busy attending to the fortification of the Salerno +and Naples water fronts. When they did see him, he always spoke with +little respect for his German allies. Stan and Allison liked the +general, but O'Malley did not warm up to him. The Irishman had never +liked high-ranking officers. To him they were always brass hats.</p> + +<p>The days passed slowly. The boys had a small radio and always tuned in +the Algiers radio station for news of the Allied attack upon Sicily. The +news of the fighting made them squirm, and for hours after listening to +a military report of the advance of Patton and Montgomery they paced the +floor. O'Malley was especially restless. He marked each day off on the +calendar and planned his escape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the twenty-seventh day the boys were seated on a shady balcony from +which they could look down toward the city of Naples. Directly below the +grounds of their villa were the headquarters and general assembly fields +of the Germans. They seemed to be present in considerable strength. Stan +sat with his feet on a railing. Allison was near the railing. O'Malley +was sprawled out in an easy chair.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' it will be no trick at all to get away," he said.</p> + +<p>"Before our parole is up the general will make other plans for us, you +can bet on that," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet we're locked up," Allison added.</p> + +<p>"We could sneak out a bit ahead o' time," O'Malley suggested.</p> + +<p>"The general has treated us very fine, besides saving our lives. We stay +until one minute after midnight of the thirtieth day," Stan said firmly.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' crazy," O'Malley growled, "sittin' around here listenin' to +air fights. There won't be a German plane left to tangle with by the +time we get back into it." He sat up and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> scowled down at the German +camp. "Besides, these Italians can't make decent pie."</p> + +<p>The boys laughed and O'Malley joined in. Behind them a curtain parted +and four officers stepped out on the balcony. The general was paying +them a visit and he had with him three flying officers of the Italian +air force.</p> + +<p>The Yanks got to their feet. The general smiled in friendly fashion and +waved a hand toward the three fliers.</p> + +<p>"I have brought three of my boys, Tony Bolero, Arno Bolero and Lorenzo +Bolero. They are all officers of our air corps." He faced the Yanks. +"Lieutenant Wilson, Lieutenant O'Malley, and Lieutenant Allison."</p> + +<p>The Bolero trio bowed deeply. Stan stepped forward and held out a hand.</p> + +<p>"Glad to meet you, Lorenzo," he said.</p> + +<p>The fliers shook hands while the general beamed happily upon them.</p> + +<p>"Sit down. I have much to say to you men," he said.</p> + +<p>They found chairs and pulled them up beside a table. The general seated +himself and puffed out his cheeks as he fished a thick envelope from his +pocket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What I am about to say is most unusual. I have a request to make of you +Americans. I wish you to extend your parole." He lifted a hand as +O'Malley opened his mouth to say no. "I feel that you should do this +after the manner in which you have been treated." He smiled at Stan.</p> + +<p>"For how long, sir?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say exactly, but not for very much longer. I am leaving my +boys here and they will be with you during the time you stay here." His +smile faded and he suddenly looked tired and old. "I ask this for a +personal reason. Perhaps I am selfish."</p> + +<p>"You saved our lives, sir," Allison said. "I'm giving my parole for a +while longer."</p> + +<p>"I'll give mine, sir," Stan promised.</p> + +<p>They looked at O'Malley. "An' I'm gettin' away if I can," he declared.</p> + +<p>The general bowed. "You know, of course, that I must place you in +custody of a guard?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," O'Malley replied. "Sure, but I'm gettin' itchy feet."</p> + +<p>The general nodded. He handed the fat envelope to his eldest son, +Lorenzo.</p> + +<p>"You will keep this for me. Above all it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> must not be given to the +Germans." He got to his feet. "Now I must be getting back to +headquarters. I trust you have been comfortable, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"We have, thank you, sir," Allison said.</p> + +<p>Gravely the general shook hands with the three Yanks and with each of +his sons. At the doorway he paused and they all gave him a snappy +salute. After he was gone the Bolero boys were silent. They stood at the +balcony looking down on the shady road until his car disappeared inside +the German camp. Lorenzo turned to Stan and there was a tight smile on +his lips.</p> + +<p>"This is a strange war for the Italians," he said.</p> + +<p>"It is," Stan agreed.</p> + +<p>The brothers shrugged their shoulders and started to chat with the Yanks +in smooth English. They had learned the language in Great Britain. +O'Malley sat back and said nothing. Stan and Allison carried on the +talk. The war was not mentioned again. Allison and the brothers talked +about schooldays in England.</p> + +<p>At last Lorenzo got to his feet. The others joined him. They all bowed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We leave you now but will see you at dinner tonight."</p> + +<p>After they had gone, O'Malley burst out, "You sure did get tricked by +that ol' brass hat."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, you better change your mind. If you don't, I'll wager +you a dinner we see action before you do." Allison was smiling.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you talk riddles," O'Malley snorted.</p> + +<p>"There's only one place the general can put you for safekeeping right +now. He'll have to turn you over to the Germans. This part of the +country has been taken over by the Nazi gang." Allison spoke slowly. +"The general hates the Nazis. Figure it out for yourself."</p> + +<p>"An' suppose he pops up with a regiment o' soldiers to take you to a +camp about five minutes before our parole is up?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"He could do that anyway," Stan answered. "We've waited a month. A few +more days won't kill us. I have a feeling Allison is right."</p> + +<p>"The Italians have thrown Mussolini out, perhaps they will start +throwing the Germans out," Allison said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They wouldn't have a chance," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right about that, but something's up. I'm going to wait +and see." Stan walked to the balcony rail and seated himself.</p> + +<p>That night at dinner the Bolero brothers were quite gay. And for the +next few days they were always around, but always friendly and polite. +Stan wondered why they were not at the front. Italy certainly needed +every pilot she had. He did not think that the officers had been +detailed to watch them.</p> + +<p>The parole day came and a guard arrived in the morning. The three Yanks +saw a squad of Italian soldiers headed by a young officer halt in the +yard below. O'Malley sat on the rail, watching. The young officer came +to the balcony alone.</p> + +<p>"Which one is Lieutenant O'Malley?" he asked.</p> + +<p>O'Malley grinned at him. "Sure, an' that's me. I'm glad you dropped in. +Tell General Bolero that I am givin' my parole, though it is against me +better judgment."</p> + +<p>The officer bowed. "I am pleased," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> "I will report this to the +general." He bowed again and turned on his heel.</p> + +<p>Stan looked at O'Malley. "I thought you'd get some sense into that +shaggy head of yours."</p> + +<p>"We'll rot right here," O'Malley said with a scowl. "But the likes o' +you has need o' someone to look out for you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Stan said. "You are very thoughtful."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>ESCAPE</h3> + + +<p>The three Yanks were sitting on their balcony restlessly watching the +activity in the German camp below. They were beginning to wonder if +General Bolero ever meant to release them from their promise. His sons +still remained at the villa, but they never mentioned the war. Suddenly +Lorenzo burst out on the balcony. He halted and lifted both hands +excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Italy has surrendered!" he announced. "You are free men!"</p> + +<p>Before the Yanks could reply, Arno and Tony rushed in. They were very +excited.</p> + +<p>"This is the hour we have waited for," Tony shouted. "Now we will drive +out the Black Shirt Fascisti and the Germans." The younger brothers +embraced each other and danced up and down. Lorenzo smilingly watched +them. Slowly he turned to the three surprised Yanks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> "My family—we +have fought against the big-talking Mussolini. We belong to the society +Free Italy."</p> + +<p>"Great!" Allison exclaimed.</p> + +<p>O'Malley was already headed for the door.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" Lorenzo shouted after him. "I must tell you some things."</p> + +<p>O'Malley halted and turned toward the door. "Sure, an' all I want is to +get back into this fight."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you do," Lorenzo said. "And I am going to help you."</p> + +<p>"Good," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Lorenzo took a fat package from his pocket. It was the package his +father had given him. He held it out to Stan.</p> + +<p>"Here are the locations of all German bases in Italy, the positions of +batteries, the supply routes used, and all the military maps you will +need. This is very important information."</p> + +<p>O'Malley was staring at the package. "Sure, an' it's of no use now with +Italy out o' the war. We'll be headed for Germany."</p> + +<p>Lorenzo shook his head. "I'm afraid it is not so easy as that. Germany +has as complete control of Italy as she has of any conquered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> country. +The Germans will be helped by our Black Shirts, who know they will be +treated badly if they do not stay in power." He spread his hands wide. +"Every officer like my father will be hunted down. We will be hunted. +Today we dress as civilians and go north to destroy Nazi rail lines and +supply dumps."</p> + +<p>Stan took the packet. "Have you any suggestions for our getting out of +Italy?"</p> + +<p>Lorenzo smiled. "My brothers and I will have no use for our Nardi +fighter planes. Perhaps after the war we might be repaid with an +Airacobra."</p> + +<p>"'Tis a foine set o' brothers ye are," O'Malley cried. "Lead me to those +Nardi ships."</p> + +<p>"They are in a woods north of the villa. On the hunting acres of the +Bolero estate there is a runway the Germans have not found. I will lead +you to your planes. But we had best hurry as the Germans are taking over +everything." He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. "You +know how efficient the Germans are."</p> + +<p>"You will go nowhere," a harsh voice said.</p> + +<p>The boys whirled toward the wide doorway leading to the balcony. Four +German soldiers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> with tommy-guns stood glaring at them. A youngster with +an officer's insignia on his shirt spoke.</p> + +<p>"We have heard what you said. You are spies and will be dealt with +quickly."</p> + +<p>Lorenzo was in front of Stan. He whispered, "Over the balcony rail. +There is a large shrub to land on. Take the path leading from the +kennels. Cross the ridge. There is no road to the field."</p> + +<p>"You, stop talking!" the German officer shouted.</p> + +<p>Stan did not hesitate. He did a backward flip. As he went over the +railing he saw flame flash from a machine gun. He caught a glimpse of +Lorenzo sagging forward, his hands gripping his stomach.</p> + +<p>The next instant he had plunged into a large bush which broke his fall. +He lay beside a rock wall in a ditch. Vaguely he knew where the kennels +were. Tony had taken him back to see the dogs one evening after dark. +From above he could hear the officer bellowing down to the men he had +left below. He hoped the Germans had felt so sure of their quarry that +they had not surrounded the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>Reaching a corner he discovered a guard there. The man was looking up, +listening to his commander's orders. Stan hit him hard in the back with +a knee and slapped a viselike grip around his neck. The man sagged down +without a murmur. Stan stripped off the fellows cartridge jacket and +grabbed his tommy-gun. He was glad the Germans had equipped their hounds +with rapid-fire guns.</p> + +<p>Leaping forward he reached the back of the house. There he halted. The +squad cars were in the back yard, two of them. Four men stood at the +back door listening to the shouting above. Stan saw the kennels and set +himself to blast a path to freedom.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard a wild yell from above. It was O'Malley and Stan could +tell the Irishman was seeing red. There was a fight in progress up on +the balcony. Machine guns chattered savagely. Stan felt suddenly sick to +his stomach. The boys were up there mixing it barehanded with four +Germans armed with machine guns.</p> + +<p>The guards at the door whirled to leap into the house. Stan's submachine +gun burst into flame and he swept a pathway of death across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> the ranks +of the Nazis. They went down in a writhing mass, one of them rolling off +the steps and crawling away on his hands and knees, leaving a bloody +path behind him.</p> + +<p>Stan leaped for the back door and plunged into the house. He went +through the spacious music room and up the wide stairway leading to the +balcony like a charging tank, his submachine gun at his hip, his eyes +like cold steel.</p> + +<p>Leaping through the doorway he swept the room with his gun. O'Malley and +Allison and Tony were crowded back against the wall. O'Malley was +bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder. A broken chair lay on +the floor and beside it lay a dead German. Lorenzo lay on the floor face +up. He was dead, but there was a smile of triumph on his lips. Arno had +sagged down into a chair. He, too, was bleeding from a head wound.</p> + +<p>The three Germans had their backs to the door. The officer was wild with +fury. He was shouting wildly.</p> + +<p>"If I did not have orders to bring you in so that we can force you to +tell who your underground helpers are, I would shoot you all and leave +you here to rot!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Put up your hands or you'll stay here to rot!" Stan snapped.</p> + +<p>The Germans whirled about. As they turned, the two soldiers dropped +their guns and elevated their hands. The officer came around with his +machine gun firing. Stan opened up and cut him down. The two men began +shouting:</p> + +<p>"<i>Kamrad! Kamrad!</i>"</p> + +<p>Stan backed them up against the wall. Before he had gotten them moved +O'Malley and Allison had their tommy-guns. They stripped the ammunition +from the soldiers.</p> + +<p>"Tie them up," Stan snapped. He turned about and saw that Tony and Arno +were kneeling beside their brother.</p> + +<p>"We should go now. We cannot help him, but I shall see that he is +mentioned in my reports as a hero in the cause of democracy," Stan said +softly.</p> + +<p>The two brothers straightened and rose to their feet. They stood stiffly +and saluted.</p> + +<p>"We will show you the flying field," Arno said.</p> + +<p>"We better get moving. Both squad cars made off and they'll bring back +reinforcements.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> The drivers didn't happen to be armed or else they +thought the place was garrisoned." Stan nodded toward Arno and O'Malley. +"Plug those wounds as you go along."</p> + +<p>"I will get first aid and medicine from the cabinet in my room. I'll +overtake you," Tony said.</p> + +<p>They moved down the wide stairway, leaving the German soldiers where +they would be rescued. Tony dashed off while the others, led by Arno, +hurried out of the house and across the yard to the stables. Racing +through the spacious barns they came to the kennels. By the time they +had passed these Tony had caught up with them.</p> + +<p>Pushing through a hidden gate in a hedge they came to a bridle path over +which tall trees draped their branches.</p> + +<p>"I say, a beautiful spot," Allison murmured.</p> + +<p>"It has the smell of auld Ireland," O'Malley said wistfully.</p> + +<p>"We are very fond of it," Tony said.</p> + +<p>Arno was ahead, moving rapidly upward. They hurried along and caught up +with him. From then on there was no talking; the trail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> wound upward +steeply, covered by a canopy of trees. Reaching the top of the ridge +they broke out into a forest. Arno led them to a spot where there was a +narrow flight strip. Still they saw no planes.</p> + +<p>Crossing the strip they entered a grove of tall trees and there stood +three, trim ships. O'Malley yelped with joy. Stan looked at the craft +critically. They were Nardi FN 500's, obsolete in speed and fire power, +but trim and sturdy ships just the same. Arno smiled.</p> + +<p>"We built this secret field so that we could slip in at night without +the black-shirted Fascisti knowing where we had gone. We met often to +plan the overthrow of Mussolini and his murderers."</p> + +<p>"You landed here at night?" Allison asked in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Arno answered modestly.</p> + +<p>"We could use you as a fighter pilot," Stan answered. "When you get +through blowing up bridges and trains, you'd better join us. We'll vouch +for you."</p> + +<p>"We will do that. We like very much to fly," Tony said eagerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will find the guns on the ship are serviced. The engine is 1200 +horsepower, you have two fixed guns firing through the prop and two guns +fixed in the wings. You can get three hundred and fifty miles per hour +out of those ships," Arno spoke proudly.</p> + +<p>"Yet they are not as good as the Messerschmitts or the Focke-Wulf," Tony +added. "And I think you will have to fight your way home against the +Germans."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we'll show them a fight," O'Malley said happily.</p> + +<p>"You have gas to reach Malta, but not much for fighting. It is best that +you run fast for home," Arno advised.</p> + +<p>"We'll do just that," Stan said, remembering the package inside his +shirt.</p> + +<p>Tony and Arno helped them wheel the Nardis out on the flight strip. They +were surprised to find another ship tucked away under the trees.</p> + +<p>"Father's ship," Arno said with a catch in his voice. "But he has not +been able to come for it."</p> + +<p>"He'll come," Allison said, but he was not so sure the general was +alive. He knew the Germans<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> would be ruthless in wiping out all +anti-Fascist leaders in the territory they controlled.</p> + +<p>The boys climbed up and got into the beautifully streamlined cockpits. +They slipped into the Italian parachutes and got set. Arno and Tony +acted as ground crew and the engines were soon turning over smoothly. +Stan checked his dials and made himself familiar with gun controls and +equipment; he cracked the throttle and listened to the roaring surge of +power. Then he throttled down and leaned out, waving an arm in a signal +that he was leading off. O'Malley and Allison answered the signal. They +knew it was their job to see that Stan got through with his reports and +maps.</p> + +<p>Stan kicked the throttle open and the Nardi roared to life, leaping +forward with surprising speed. Stan hoiked her tail with an added blast +of prop pressure and tested her. She lifted at once. Unburdened by the +armor plate carried by a Lightning or an Airacobra for the protection of +the pilot and constructed of much lighter materials, she bounced off the +ground before half of the short runway had been covered.</p> + +<p>Stan leveled off close to the tops of the trees. He wanted to make sure +Allison and O'Malley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> got away, and so he did not want to stir up the +swarm of German fighter planes on the big flying field just a few miles +away.</p> + +<p>O'Malley came up and then Allison. They dropped into formation beside +Stan and he set his course by compass, straight for Sicily.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>HOMEWARD BOUND</h3> + + +<p>Stan was not sure of the terrain he had to fly over. He wanted to avoid +the German flying fields if possible, but knew there would be many +dispersal areas and flight strips. Getting through would be largely a +matter of luck.</p> + +<p>The formation of Nardi FN's swooped over the ridge above Bolero Villa. +Stan was flying low and pushing the Nardi hard. He grinned as he glanced +at the air-speed indicator. They were topping three hundred miles per +hour.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they swept away from the hilly country and were over the German +air base. There was nothing to be done about it but keep on going. Stan +cast a critical eye downward and laughed softly. He took in the details +of the carefully hidden dispersal plots, the tree-shaded oil dumps and +the shrub-covered barracks. The picture he was fixing in his mind might +be useful later.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had reached the center of the area when the surprised ack-ack +gunners woke up. A half-dozen groves of trees suddenly erupted flame and +the sky above the three streaking Nardi's was filled with smoke tracers +and exploding steel.</p> + +<p>The Yanks went on and were away from the field before the gunners got +their altitude spotted. Stan drew a deep breath of relief. He was glad +that he had followed his hunch to fly low. Then he noticed O'Malley, on +his right, zoom upward, while Allison looped off to the left. An instant +later he spotted the reason for this maneuver. He had been so interested +in the ground below that he had forgotten the sky. A returning flight of +twenty Messerschmitts had spotted the Italian planes.</p> + +<p>The Me pilots evidently had received orders not to let any Italian +planes escape to join the Allies. They were coming in low for a landing +and that gave the Yanks a break. But there were twenty of them, and they +were faster and more heavily armed than the Nardi ships.</p> + +<p>Stan held his course steadily, while he tried to coax a few more revs +out of his motor. He was doing three-forty and could get no more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +Glancing up he saw that by quick thinking O'Malley and Allison had +gotten the edge on the Jerries. They were up above and getting set to +come down to cover his retreat.</p> + +<p>Grimly Stan gave his attention to his course. He was hedge-hopping over +trees and power lines. Never in his life had he seen so many power +lines. By staying down he made it tough for a diving enemy. But these +Jerries were veteran fliers. They had learned a few things about rhubarb +raiders and how to handle them from the many raids staged out of England +upon the low countries. Three of them fanned out each way, right and +left, and came zooming around in a circle like coyotes bent upon cutting +off the retreat of a jack rabbit.</p> + +<p>Stan watched them as they went into their circle and saw that even in +making such a maneuver they could outfly his ship. He held his course +and a tight smile formed on his lips. Everything depended upon his +timing. If he handled the thing right and guessed right, he would dodge +the cross fire of the six killers.</p> + +<p>The Me's came in in pretty formation, three to a side, staggered so as +to lay down a terrible and enclosing wall of death. Stan's hands were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +cold upon the controls, but they were steady. His eyes took in all the +attackers in one moving picture. He was waiting for a tip that would +give him the break he needed. He had given up hope that O'Malley or +Allison would be able to break through and crack the deathtrap. Fourteen +Me's were savagely attacking them, bent upon their destruction.</p> + +<p>The Jerries gave Stan his break just before they went into the final act +of the kill. They thought they were trapping an Italian pilot and they +knew just how the Italian boys flew. One of the planes on the left +lifted a little to clear the zoom of the Me under him. That was all Stan +needed to know. The three Jerries on the left would go up, slamming lead +across his path. Two of the Me's on the right would go down and one +would come in straight. Stan kicked the Nardi over hard to the left, +heading her for the tower of a high line that swung down from the hills.</p> + +<p>The Me's went into their act, guns blazing away, punching holes into the +air. The maneuver was a beauty. The only thing wrong with it was that +the target had shifted course suddenly, leaving them in a wild tangle +with a lot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> of stunting to be done before they could close in again.</p> + +<p>But Stan's troubles were not over. His left wing raked through the top +of a small tree less than ten feet high. The power line and the high +steel tower were hurtling at him. He flattened out and held his breath. +There was no time to zoom over the heavy cables; he had to go under and +hope for the best.</p> + +<p>Stan did not see the cables or the tower go by; all he knew was that he +was boring straight for a red-roofed building set on a knoll. He zoomed +up and drew in a big lungful of air. Looking back, he saw that his +hounds were still busy getting untangled. He spotted only five of them +and guessed that one had come to grief in the circus stunting they had +been forced to do.</p> + +<p>Looking upward he saw, far above in the blue sky, smoke trailers and +little, darting planes. O'Malley and Allison were still up there, he +could tell by the pattern of the fight. Then he noticed that the five +Jerries who had been battling him started up to join the fight. He had a +powerful urge to turn back and help his pals, though going back would be +a suicide move.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bending forward he felt the bulky package inside his shirt and his eyes +hardened. His job was to go ahead. O'Malley and Allison were sacrificing +themselves so that he could go on. If he went back, he would be throwing +away the fruits of their courage and daring.</p> + +<p>Dimly and like a miniature motion picture, the battle above and behind +him was reflected on his rear-vision mirror. There was a lump in Stan's +throat as he noticed that two of the planes were coming down, twisting +and turning, trailing plumes of smoke. Before the picture faded out he +saw one parachute blossom, a tiny white flower against the green of the +hills and the blue of the sky.</p> + +<p>A little later he spotted the coast and the sea. A line of hilly, high +ground slipped under his wings and he headed out toward the beaches. +Suddenly the peaceful sky around him exploded in his face. Coastal +batteries had spotted him. He was low, but this time the gunners were +looking for low-flying bombers and strafing planes. They laid their flak +and their tracers on him in a deadly hail of screaming steel. The Nardi +bucked and turned half over as a shell burst under her belly. Ragged, +saw-edged pieces of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> shell casing ripped through the wings. An exploding +shell ripped away the whole nose and the prop. Stan felt the Nardi +wobble. Her terrific speed hurled her on and out over the water, away +from the pattern of shells. But she was a dead duck and Stan knew it. +His greenhouse was mashed down close above his head. He tried the hatch +cover and found it jammed tight. Testing the controls, he found he could +still handle the ship in a glide.</p> + +<p>Below him he could see two destroyers lying off the shore. They were +blasting away at the batteries he had spotted for them. In closer, two +PT boats darted back and forth, leaving trailing plumes of white foam +behind them.</p> + +<p>The Nardi had been flying so low that Stan had no chance to maneuver. He +figured she would sink like a rock when she hit the water. Heaving with +all of his strength he tried to open the hatch. The cover refused to +budge. Green waves were reaching up for him. He smashed at the glass +overhead and was able to push out a pane. Savagely he battered away as +the Nardi settled down.</p> + +<p>With a twist he laid the ship over, then flattened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> her, heading +straight for one of the PT boats. Now he was smashing with both hands at +the panes over his head. The glass cut his hands and arms, but he did +not feel the pain. He had a hole and he needed desperately to enlarge +it.</p> + +<p>The Nardi nosed gently into the trough of a big wave, then it hit the +wave and crumpled up. Green water surged over the cockpit into Stan's +face. He heaved himself upward and fought to get clear. His parachute +was off and he was half out of the cockpit, but a great force was +sucking him down, down into the cool depths of the sea.</p> + +<p>Stan felt the Nardi hit bottom. The thought flashed through his mind +that they were in shallow water. At a moment like this, cold, unwavering +control of mind and body was necessary. One moment of panic meant death. +Stan gritted his teeth and heaved hard. His waist pulled free and +suddenly he was floating upward. His lungs were bursting with fire and +his hands smarted, but he stroked hard and a few seconds later he burst +out of the water, blowing and flailing. The first thing he saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> was the +PT boat. It was circling the spot where the Nardi had disappeared. Its +skipper waved to Stan and shouted.</p> + +<p>"Keep afloat! We'll toss you a line!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" Stan shouted back.</p> + +<p>The line came out as the boat moved closer. Stan grabbed it. Two sailors +hauled him aboard. He was met by a grinning young lieutenant, junior +grade.</p> + +<p>"I sure appreciate the lift," Stan said and grinned.</p> + +<p>The skipper stared at him. "A Yank!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get +the Eity plane?"</p> + +<p>"It was loaned to me by Italian friends," Stan replied. "I have +important papers which need to be dried," he added.</p> + +<p>"And some dry clothes," the skipper said. "Come below."</p> + +<p>They went below and the lieutenant introduced himself. "I'm Lieutenant +Del Ewing."</p> + +<p>"I'm Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Army Air Corps," Stan said. "I have been a +guest of the Italians for more weeks than are good for anyone."</p> + +<p>"They outfitted you when they gave up?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They did. A lot of them are German haters and will help us all they +can." Stan spoke soberly. He was thinking of Lorenzo lying on the floor +with a smile on his lips, and of General Bolero, who probably had been +shot by now. "A lot of them have real courage," he added.</p> + +<p>Del Ewing nodded. "I've seen some of it," he said.</p> + +<p>"Now about these papers." Stan took the package out of his dripping +shirt. The gummed wrapper fell off, exposing an oiled cloth envelope. +That was lucky. The maps and papers were dry.</p> + +<p>Del Ewing was digging into his sea chest, laying out dry clothing and an +oilskin coat. He spoke over his shoulder:</p> + +<p>"I can't land you until tomorrow. This is a mission that can't be +dropped. My radio is shot and I'm here to stay until that destroyer out +beyond turns in. If I quit my sector, a sub or a torpedo boat might +slide in and plant a tin fish in her side."</p> + +<p>"The papers are vitally important to both Army and Navy," Stan said. +"But tomorrow will do."</p> + +<p>After fitting Stan out with dry clothing, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> skipper went on deck and +the PT boat got under way to resume her patrol work. Stan soon began to +wonder if the little boat had not joined battle with a German craft. She +was hitting a nerve-shattering, plank-busting speed that tossed Stan all +over the little room. He turned to the navigator and discovered that the +kid was having trouble keeping from being sick all over his charts. He +gave Stan a green-lipped smile.</p> + +<p>"The skipper is pushing her a bit fast, isn't he?" Stan asked as he +lurched into a seat beside the navigator.</p> + +<p>"Just planing speed, sir," the boy answered.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me like a cross between a submarine and an airplane," Stan +said. He was beginning to feel a bit sick himself.</p> + +<p>Deciding he needed fresh air, he made his way up on the deck. Clinging +to the rail, he set his teeth while spray lashed his face and tubs of +water hurtled at him. Stan was reminded of riding a pitching bucker +while somebody dumped buckets of water into his face. The whole ship was +vibrating from the powerful thrusts of the Packard engines in the stern. +The deck bristled with light cannon, torpedo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> tubes, and machine guns. +Up there in that wild smother of foam and noise there was no chance to +talk, but Stan watched a while.</p> + +<p>The PT boat ducked and wove in and out between the destroyers and the +shore. Shells burst around her, churning up the sea, but the gunners +were unable to guess where the flighty PT would be at any given moment, +so they never hit very close to her. Stan hoped they would spot a sub or +an enemy patrol boat, but nothing showed up except other PT boats.</p> + +<p>Stan started to go below. He did not even want to think about food, but +he did feel like resting. The skipper came forward and offered to show +him a bunk, but before they went down he said:</p> + +<p>"You must undo your oilskin up topside; I mean, up here on the deck."</p> + +<p>"But I'll get soaked," Stan protested.</p> + +<p>"No matter, if you remain vertical for any length of time below decks +you're done for." He grinned at Stan.</p> + +<p>Stan went below and made it into his bunk after the third try. He lay +there with the bunk falling away from him, then slapping him hard in the +face as it came back at him. He closed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> eyes and utter exhaustion +finally put him to sleep. His dreams were filled with writhing sea +monsters, every one of them rushing through the water at express-train +speed.</p> + +<p>In the morning the skipper informed him that they were heading for +Malta, which was now the headquarters of the Allied invasion forces.</p> + +<p>"We got the radio going and asked permission. When we mentioned papers +from General Bolero, they called us right in." Del Ewing grinned +broadly. "We're in luck getting away from this game of tag."</p> + +<p>Stan was standing beside him on the deck and the boat was knifing along +half out of the water. Suddenly Ewing bellowed:</p> + +<p>"Hard a port!"</p> + +<p>The helmsman spun the wheel and Stan clung to the railing with the +breath knocked out of him. He saw a black object swish past.</p> + +<p>"Wandering mine!" Del Ewing bellowed. "Probably one of our own!"</p> + +<p>Stan drew a deep breath and grinned at the skipper. "I'll take mine in a +plane!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"I would, too, only I can't pass the physical examination for aviator. +They tell me I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> wouldn't be able to stand the strain!" Ewing laughed +heartily.</p> + +<p>Stan wiped salt water out of his eyes and shook his head. He had seen +many rough-riding vehicles of war, such as tanks and jeeps, but the PT +boat had them all bested. Any craft that was such a rough-riding brute +that half of its seasoned crew got sick was no place for him, he assured +himself.</p> + +<p>Toward eleven o 'clock Malta came into view, and they put into port +through a mass of ships and flatboats and barges. A sprinkling of +warcraft, including one British warship, filled the channel they were +following. But that did not bother the skipper. He sent his boat in at +planing speed which necessitated a lot of ducking and dodging.</p> + +<p>Pulling alongside a dock, the PT boat was made fast. Stan climbed over +the side and set his feet firmly on the ground. He was glad to be off +the deck of the speedy craft. The skipper grinned at him.</p> + +<p>"I'll get you a ride to headquarters. Your legs don't seem to be up to +walking that far."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Stan said. "I'd be picked up by the M.P.'s for being drunk if +I tried to walk."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>The skipper secured a jeep for Stan from a Navy supply outfit. They +shook hands and the jeep roared away at top speed. Stan leaned back and +took the jolts. They seemed like caresses after the skipper's PT boat.</p> + +<p>News of the package he was carrying had come in ahead of Stan. A +lieutenant was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"This way, sir," he said and hurried away with Stan almost running to +keep up.</p> + +<p>They entered a room where a dozen officers sat around a big table. +Stan's guide halted and saluted.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Wilson, sir."</p> + +<p>A grizzled general looked up from a map. Stan stepped forward and handed +over the package. The general took it and ripped it open at once. Stan +stood waiting to be dismissed. He started to back away. The general +lifted a hand.</p> + +<p>"Don't leave, Wilson. These papers are vitally important." He stopped +talking and spread out the contents of the package. The other officers +were leaning forward. "These are most important, most valuable," the +general said. He shoved the papers over to a colonel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look them over and let me know what you think of them." He turned to +Stan and smiled.</p> + +<p>Stan waited for whatever might be coming. The general fingered his +close-cropped mustache and continued to smile. Suddenly he leaned +forward and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Since receiving a message from the Navy regarding your rescue I have +had your service record handed to me. I find it quite interesting. What +happened to Lieutenant O'Malley and Lieutenant Allison?"</p> + +<p>Stan did not smile. "The last time I saw them they were fighting a +ten-to-one battle with a flight of Messerschmitts, a delaying action, so +that I could get through with these papers. We were flying Nardi +fighters furnished us by the Italians."</p> + +<p>The general's smile faded. "You think they are lost?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to check with operations," Stan said. "Both O'Malley and +Allison have come back from some tough fights."</p> + +<p>The general reached for a telephone. "I'll have a check made," he said.</p> + +<p>"Has Colonel Benson been asking about us?" Stan asked and there was a +twinkle in his eye.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I believe it will be best to transfer you to another command. We do not +wish to approve your conduct as ferry pilots, but you certainly have +rendered a great service." The general gave his attention to the phone. +After fifteen long minutes of waiting and talking he cradled the +instrument and shook his head. "No Nardi fighters have been reported +flown in by escaped American pilots. A number have come in piloted by +Italian officers."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "I would like to have immediate service in +a fighter squadron."</p> + +<p>"That will be arranged from my office. Now get into some proper clothing +and report to Mess Nine. Hold yourself ready there to report to this +office. We have a lot of questions to ask and we'll be ready to start +asking them as soon as you are clothed and fed."</p> + +<p>Stan snapped a salute and about-faced. He marched out of the office, got +the location of Mess Nine from an orderly, and headed in that +direction.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>LONE EAGLE</h3> + + +<p>A week passed with Stan lounging around Mess Nine waiting to be assigned +to a fighter squadron. During that time he divided his hours between the +officers at Intelligence and the board of strategy. He rubbed elbows +with generals, British and American and French. During those interviews +he got an idea of the great campaign which was being planned. It helped +to soften the ache inside him, because he had heard nothing from +O'Malley or Allison. It also helped to keep him from getting restless. +He knew that a great reserve of air power was being assembled to throw +an umbrella of planes over the coming thrust, which was aimed at the +heart of Germany, through or across Italy.</p> + +<p>The second week was well under way and everyone, except the generals, +was beginning to complain and to cast a critical eye at the headquarters +of General Dwight D. Eisenhower and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> General Harold R. L. G. Alexander. +Stan knew enough of the plans from his meetings with the officers to +know that the blow was coming, and that it would be a swift, savage +thrust.</p> + +<p>One morning he received a call. It was delivered by an orderly. Stan +opened the folded sheet and read an order from headquarters. "Report to +Colonel Benson at once for assignment." Stan stared at the order. Benson +had located him and demanded his return. The friendly general who had +promised to transfer Stan was now in North Africa. Folding the report, +Stan began packing the few things he owned. Colonel Benson's command had +been moved up to a field close to Messina. That was some comfort. It +meant action as soon as the main invasion broke.</p> + +<p>But Stan was uneasy. There were many nasty jobs around a fighter +squadron to which he could be assigned as punishment for his part in the +ferry mess. When Stan was given a low-powered observation plane to fly +to Messina, his worst fears seemed about to be realized.</p> + +<p>The plane was a Ryan ST-3, a plane used for basic training back home and +for odd jobs of scouting, ferrying first-aid supplies, and other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +non-combat jobs. It was sleek and fast, as light planes go, but it was +far from a fighter.</p> + +<p>Stan sent the Ryan up and headed her north by a point or two east. The +Ryan showed surprising speed for the size of her engine. Stan grinned as +he gunned her. He got to thinking that after the war he would like to +own a ship like it.</p> + +<p>Swinging in around Mount Etna's cone, he set down on the Italian field +where Colonel Benson's boys were holding forth. A field officer took his +papers and waved him toward a row of drab buildings.</p> + +<p>"The commander wants to see you at once." He spoke gruffly and showed no +interest at all in Stan.</p> + +<p>Stan unloaded his gear in the briefing room and walked across to the +colonel's headquarters. The door was open and he looked into a room +barely large enough for a table and three chairs. Colonel Benson was +seated at the table. He looked up and when he saw Stan he frowned.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Lieutenant Wilson," he called.</p> + +<p>Stan stepped inside, saluted, and stood waiting.</p> + +<p>"Sit down." The colonel motioned to a chair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan seated himself and waited. The colonel regarded him for a moment, +then started to speak.</p> + +<p>"In all of the years I have been in service I have never read a report +like the one handed to me. That report covers your activities as ferry +pilot in my command." The colonel shifted some papers on his desk, +selected one and began reading it silently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Stan said, feeling some reply was called for.</p> + +<p>"It is a continuous recital of violations of orders resulting in a great +deal of trouble. In my opinion it deserves drastic action." His cold +eyes stabbed into Stan.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Stan answered. He did not intend to argue, not at that +moment.</p> + +<p>"Take this report." A smile formed at the corners of the colonel's +mouth. "The Navy gives us the numbers from three planes that saved a +warship from being sunk off Sicily. In checking the numbers we discover +the planes are ferry planes bound for Malta." He picked up another +report. "Here is a memorandum from General Eisenhower citing Lieutenant +Wilson for the delivery of vital documents from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> inside Italy." The +smile faded. "And there is a line mentioning Lieutenant's O'Malley and +Allison for covering your escape." The colonel dropped the paper and +leaned back.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," was all Stan could say, but a warm glow was beginning to +stir inside him.</p> + +<p>"And that last line is the reason for my calling for your services, +Lieutenant. I have received a message brought in by an Italian pilot who +managed to fly his plane over here." He shoved a piece of soiled paper +across to Stan. "It is addressed to you."</p> + +<p>Stan caught the paper eagerly and read the scrawled lines upon it.</p> + +<p>"Shot down. Prisoners. Held in shed back of Bolero barns. Tony with us. +One of the Bolero servants will try to smuggle this out." The note was +signed by Allison.</p> + +<p>"They're alive!" Stan almost shouted.</p> + +<p>"They are," the colonel said dryly.</p> + +<p>"They'll be treated like spies and not prisoners of war. The Germans +pulled that on us before," Stan said anxiously.</p> + +<p>"You three seem marked down as irregulars," the colonel said. "I now +find myself in the position of becoming a party to your wild<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> schemes." +He laughed outright. "I have not reported this to headquarters. I am +afraid O'Malley and Allison should and would be marked down as +expendables and left to be shot by the Germans." He straightened and +shoved the papers aside. "With a fast, light bomber, would you have a +chance to land over there?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly would," Stan said eagerly. "The Bolero boys have a secret +landing strip where they hid their planes when they didn't want +Mussolini's agents to trail them. That landing strip is just above the +place where the Germans are holding Allison and O'Malley."</p> + +<p>"In that case I'll assign you a fast bomber and an objective. You will +drop your bomb load at another spot and make a try." His eyes were +twinkling. "And if you should bring back Mussolini, I think you might +get a medal."</p> + +<p>They both laughed. Stan looked at his watch. "Dusk would be the time to +hit there. I can make it tonight."</p> + +<p>"As you like," the colonel said. "Report to me at once when you get +back. What information you gather should clear over my desk." He +grinned. "I am a bit of a politician, you see."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Stan saluted and made off while the colonel got busy on the telephone +getting a ship assigned to him.</p> + +<p>When Stan reported to the briefing room he found the colonel there. The +briefing officer and his second in command gave him his locations and +his bombing data, the weather and the wind drift. Everything was very +much routine and like a hundred other sorties being made hourly over +selected targets by from one to fifty planes. The colonel walked out to +the runway with Stan.</p> + +<p>They shook hands like old pals. Stan smiled. The colonel was deadly +serious.</p> + +<p>"Landing almost on a German flying field isn't going to be a soft +touch," he said grimly. "Not even with your luck."</p> + +<p>Stan turned to his ship and his smile broadened. Colonel Benson had gone +to considerable trouble in selecting a bomber. The ship that stood with +idling props was a De Havilland Mosquito. She was humpbacked like a +codfish. Her forward gun opening and her nose greenhouse made her look +like a fish. They furnished eyes and mouth. She was a plywood job, +light, but the fastest bomber in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>He waved a hand to the colonel and climbed up. None of the ground men +seemed interested in his lack of crew or light bomb load. In the swelter +and rush of round-the-clock operations the boys followed orders and +rushed each job out, knowing that another ship had to be on the line as +soon as one craft cleared a spot.</p> + +<p>Stan leaned back against the shock pad and checked his dials. He cracked +the throttle a bit more and his powerful radials roared with surging +power. The Mosquito shuddered and trembled against her chocks.</p> + +<p>"Ready, Flight Fifty-four?"</p> + +<p>"Ready," Stan called back.</p> + +<p>"Lane Three, Flight Fifty-four." The voice from the control tower +snapped off.</p> + +<p>Stan eased up and signaled the men below. The chocks were jerked loose +and Stan gunned the ship. She leaped forward with a snap that would have +done credit to any fighter craft. Darting down the runway she hoiked her +tail and was off before she had covered a fourth of the alloted space. +Upward she roared like a streak. The boys on the ground grinned. The +Mosquito got off so fast she was out of sight before any spotter could +pick her up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>Easing around in a wide circle, Stan put her nose into the wind and let +her have her head. He settled himself to the job ahead, his pulses +beating in tune with the roar of the slip stream of air piling up and +rolling off the leading edges of his wings. A good ship, the De +Havilland. She was the craft used to make regular flights between +England and Malta. Too fast for interception, the Mosquitoes streaked +right across Hitler's Germany or across France, running supplies daily +through enemy-guarded skies.</p> + +<p>The coast of Italy showed clearly ahead. Slipping in over Reggio Stan +picked a rail line and checked with his eye. No need for a bombardier +here. He lined up on the track and then spotted a short string of cars. +The train was standing still and smoke lifted from its locomotive. Stan +suspected some other Yank had spotted it and laid a stick of bombs on +the track, blocking it.</p> + +<p>Stan knew he should cut loose his bombs and be on his way. But the feel +of the Mosquito made him eager to try her out. This was an ideal target +for the fast-flying bomber. If he went down he would be sure to stir up +German fighter planes. The temptation was great.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> Stan nosed over and +sent the Mosquito roaring down the chute. He lined up on the freight +train as he went.</p> + +<p>The landscape wavered up at him. The train seemed to be twisting and +turning like a snake trying to wiggle away, though he knew it was not +moving. The wind ahead of his diving wings piled up and banked like +invisible snow, making the plane shudder and shake. Stan grinned. Only +the Lockheed Lightning could fly a dive fast enough to bank up air like +snow; that was what he had always thought, but the diving Mosquito was +doing it. Stan began to wonder if a ship made of plywood could take the +strain of a pull-out after such a dive.</p> + +<p>He released his stick of bombs and the Mosquito bounced like a golf ball +before the cutting edge of a driver. Up she went and Stan set himself +against the "high G's" he had to expect. First, as he started up, there +was a blurring of vision, then a graying, and then a momentary blackout. +Instantly the graying appeared before his eyes again, then the blurring, +and a moment later clear vision. Stan whistled softly.</p> + +<p>"Some ship!" he muttered. "She makes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> anything I ever flew except the +old Lightnings look slow."</p> + +<p>Three Messerschmitts knifed down from a cloud, but the Mosquito was on +her way under full throttle and leaving the toe of the Italian boot at a +space-devouring pace. The Me pilots saw what they had picked up and slid +off in disgust.</p> + +<p>The Mosquito went up so fast that Stan could not see the results of his +attack upon the train. Heading east he caught sight of the bay of +Taranto, then turned north. Flying on the east rim of a mountain ridge +he bored along.</p> + +<p>Checking the miles off as best he could, Stan turned west when he +thought he was opposite Naples. He zoomed up higher and higher until he +spotted the city on the coast, then he eased around and ducked back and +up into a layer of clouds. Darkness had not settled, but he figured he +could slide in back of the ridge above the Bolero villa and spot the +hidden landing strip.</p> + +<p>Easing down he clipped along the tops of the trees. Three Focke-Wulf 190 +fighters spotted him and he made off, leaving them to wander above the +hill country. Returning, he zoomed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> along the ridge. Back and forth he +slid but failed to locate the strip. Again he was spotted and had to run +for it. The next time he came back he flew along the top of the ridge, +which caused no less than a dozen Jerry fighters to take after him. But +he spotted the hidden strip before he made off.</p> + +<p>Dusk was beginning to settle when he came back. This time he had to land +regardless of the fighter planes. He came in straight for the strip, +flying so low he was below the trees in many spots. He was surprised to +find that there was a natural avenue which allowed him to slide in under +fair cover. The Bolero boys had selected their secret field well. One Me +darted over to have a look, but did not dive down. Stan set himself and +cut his engines. He was coming in now, either for a landing or a crash. +Topping a row of small trees he let the Mosquito settle toward the +grassy lane below.</p> + +<p>The wheels of the ship tipped the grass, then settled down solidly. Stan +applied his brakes and eased into a smooth and even landing. As he +rolled in, he spotted the big trees with overhanging branches where the +Nardi fighters had been parked. Gunning the Mosquito a bit he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> slid +under cover just as three Me's roared past looking for him. They went on +to the east, but came back to crisscross the ridge. Stan smiled. The +German pilots seemed puzzled over the way a bomber had vanished into +thin air.</p> + +<p>Swinging the Mosquito around under her own power he set her in position +for a quick take-off, then began getting out his pack of rations and the +light machine gun he had brought with him. He was eager to work his way +down the bridle path before darkness settled completely.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>RESCUE</h3> + + +<p>Stan kept under cover until he located the bridle path leading over the +ridge. The Me's were still combing the ridge above, but the woods and +the meadows were full of long shadows which made spotting a camouflaged +object impossible.</p> + +<p>Moving down the path Stan kept a sharp watch for guards. The pathway was +really a tunnel under the trees. Overlapping branches formed a natural +roof. This cover made the path almost pitch-dark. But Stan moved +swiftly. He wanted enough light to spot the prison where the boys were +being held.</p> + +<p>Reaching the opening in the hedge he discovered that someone had moved +the branches of the hedge row so that they entwined over the opening +hiding it. Standing behind the hedge he listened. Judging by the sounds, +there was plenty of activity in the camp, and Stan could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> see lights +shining through the wall of leaves. A motorcycle roared and a truck +motor joined it. Men's voices could be heard clearly.</p> + +<p>Moving along the hedge Stan peered over it. He could see into the wide +yard of the villa and also into the yards around the barns. Every +building was lighted up and the place swarmed with Germans. Stan had +never seen so many German officers in a single spot before. Groups of +them sat around outdoor tables in the back yard of the villa. They were +eating and drinking wine from the Bolero cellars. There was a lot of +shouting and laughter.</p> + +<p>Stan turned to the barns. He moved along them until he could see the +back yard of the big barn. Here there were a number of smaller sheds and +barns as well as the kennels. All of them were lighted and so were the +yards around them. Guards marched back and forth in front of the kennels +and before three of the sheds. Stan was certain he had located the +prisons, but there was no way of telling which one contained his pals. +One thing was certain, the Germans felt safe here at Bolero Villa. They +probably figured Allied bombers would think the place was Italian and +leave it alone. The many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> trees hid the trucks, cars, and German +soldiers from view. Stan grinned. When he got back, the bomber boys +would know where to drop a stick of bombs.</p> + +<p>This condition made it easy for Stan to observe because the guards +figured their only job was to keep the prisoners from escaping. They +were not worried about an attack. Moving around behind the kennels Stan +found darkness. He managed to wiggle up to the back wall. There were no +windows in the back of the shed. He checked the other guarded sheds and +found no windows in the rear of them. Moving back to the hedge he +crouched there watching the three buildings.</p> + +<p>The only way to get into any of those buildings was through the doors or +one of the front windows. The windows were open and not barred, but at +least a dozen guards patrolled the grounds. They were scattered out, +making a blitz machine-gun attack difficult. By the time Stan had +blasted the guards out of the way he would have several hundred officers +and men attacking from the grounds below.</p> + +<p>A soldier approached one of the guards, spoke to him, then entered one +of the buildings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> a shed between the kennels and the third barn. A +light flashed on and Stan could see men inside the building. They were +packed in, standing close together, those he could see through the +window. All of them were Italian soldiers.</p> + +<p>After a bit the soldier came out with an Italian officer walking ahead +of him. They went directly to the grounds below. Stan eased along the +hedge until he was opposite the kennels. Here he halted and parted the +branches of the hedge. He listened intently. The prisoners in the +kennels were talking but their voices were very low. One of them laughed +and the guard at the door shouted an order in German. With the butt of +his rifle he hammered against the sill. There was silence inside and +then a voice called out:</p> + +<p>"Get away from that door, ye dirty spalpeen! Yer disturbin' the pleasure +o' gentlemen!"</p> + +<p>Stan almost shouted. That was the voice of O'Malley. The guard beat +harder upon the sill of the door and shouted louder. Stan heard Allison +warning O'Malley to keep his mouth shut. Silence settled inside the +building.</p> + +<p>Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The +hedge had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of +the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost +a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches +over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the +opening.</p> + +<p>The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A +floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan +watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the +entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of +three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the +whole yard.</p> + +<p>The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be +engineered. Suddenly Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. He had a +bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so +completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot +of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge +the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals +were being held.</p> + +<p>After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in +from the big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot +where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn. +Four Germans guarded the road and they were well spaced. Again he was +blocked.</p> + +<p>Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in +the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high +above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came +in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly +power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned and headed into the +woods. He was looking for a power line pole.</p> + +<p>The job of locating a pole among a forest of trees was not easy, but +Stan had the general location from the run of the lines. After a few +minutes of hunting he located the pole and got set to climb it. He +stacked his things at the base of the pole. He would have to slide down +in a hurry and dash to the attack. He hoped there would be plenty of +confusion. He also hoped the lead-in wires were insulated. The line was +at least 220-volt, because there were three wires leading to the barn.</p> + +<p>Climbing up the pole Stan came to a transformer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> Gingerly he tested one +of the wires with the hard rubber handle of his knife. Nothing happened, +so he started sawing away. He was not shorted by any part of the +transformer or any wire he might be touching in the darkness. The wire +was thick and heavy but it was copper and his sharp knife bit into it. +With a tug Stan severed the heavy wire and felt it go twisting away into +the darkness, which had suddenly become very black because all of the +lights in and around the villa had snapped off.</p> + +<p>Stan almost fell down the pole. He heard shouting and bellowing from the +yard. Shots were fired and flashlights began to stab back and forth. +Stan grabbed his machine gun and leaped into the road leading to the +small barns. Suddenly the machine gun under the tree opened up. The +Germans knew a prison delivery attempt was on. Stan halted and pulled a +grenade from the sack slung over his shoulder. Jerking the pin, he +tossed it just as he had often tossed a forward pass in a football game.</p> + +<p>A sharp roar and a flash of fire told him the grenade had gone off, and +the sudden ceasing of the staccato voice of the machine gun told him he +had scored a hit. He did not have time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> to look as he charged toward the +kennels. He ran into a German and knocked the soldier down with the +barrel of his machine gun. Reaching the door he came to grips with three +Germans. They had an electric lantern and they spotted him closing in, +but not quick enough. Stan's tommy-gun blasted them off the wide stone +flagging before the door.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Allison! O'Malley!" Stan hit the door with his shoulder in a +leaping dive. He went crashing into the room with the door draped around +him.</p> + +<p>"Stan!" O'Malley roared from the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Here! Get close to me and follow me!" Stan shouted as he staggered to +his feet.</p> + +<p>Outside, the flaming and the sound of Stan's tommy-gun had given away +his location. Rifles and pistols began blasting away. Bullets splintered +the front of the building.</p> + +<p>"Get down low!" Allison called.</p> + +<p>A dozen men had rushed out of the kennels, carrying Stan with them. He +heard a man groan and go down as a bullet hit him.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>O'Malley and Allison located him. They knew just about where he was +headed. Wiggling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> along on their hands and knees, the three fliers moved +to the hole in the hedge.</p> + +<p>They slid through and, paused. "Where's Tony and Arno?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"In the shed next to ours," Allison answered. "They were captured the +day we were shot down."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' if you'll wait I'll go beat down the door," O'Malley +whispered.</p> + +<p>"We'll all go," Stan answered. "We'll batter open both prisons."</p> + +<p>The three, keeping close together, circled and charged into the mass of +milling Germans. They were not spotted because there was little light. +Flashlight beams stabbed here and there, but none of the fingers of +light found the three Yanks. They actually shouldered their way to +within a few yards of the first door.</p> + +<p>"I'll take this one, you and O'Malley take the other. I'll clear the way +with the tommy-gun," Stan hissed.</p> + +<p>He opened up with a burst of fire which scattered the Germans, then +charged the door. O'Malley and Allison smashed the other door. Stan +heard the shouts of the prisoners as they piled out. He backed away as +men lunged out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> of the building he had opened. Stan thanked his luck +that the doors had been built out of light plywood. He leaped aside and +turned his submachine gun on the Germans. He swung his arc of fire +across the yard and sent the Nazis charging for cover.</p> + +<p>Ceasing his fire he ducked for the hole in the hedge. Allison was +already there, but O'Malley had not showed up.</p> + +<p>"Hope he hasn't gotten any crazy ideas," Stan growled.</p> + +<p>"He probably has," Allison said. "How'd you douse the lights?"</p> + +<p>"I cut the main line, but they'll locate the break and fix it in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>Suddenly they heard O'Malley coming. He ducked through the hedge. Behind +him came two other men. O'Malley had stayed to locate Tony and Arno.</p> + +<p>"How did you find us?" Tony asked excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Allison got someone to smuggle out a note. I have a bomber up on your +secret field to take us off, if we can get up there," Stan answered. +"It's so dark, I don't know whether we can locate the path."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>Arno laughed softly. "We will lead you and we will show you how to take +off in the dark."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're along," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Arno led the way up the trail. He moved along at a fast pace. He knew +every twist and turn in the trail. The Yanks were hard put to keep up +with him. Tony brought up the rear, which helped to keep the party +together.</p> + +<p>They reached the little meadow that served as a runway. Arno led them +straight to the hidden parking ground. Here they halted under the wing +of the Mosquito.</p> + +<p>"What you flying?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"A Mosquito bomber," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"One o' them wood crates?" O'Malley asked. He did not try to hide his +disgust.</p> + +<p>Stan laughed. "And I'm flying her, see? I wouldn't ride in as fast and +tricky a ship as this Mosquito with you at the controls."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet me auld grandmother could fly as fast," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"The lights are on below," Arno broke in. "I hear German soldiers coming +up the slope through the woods."</p> + +<p>"They have a big force down there," Allison said. "I'll bet they comb +this mountainside."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll never be able to take off as black as it is," Stan said. "We'll +have to wait for the first light so we can see something."</p> + +<p>"By that time the Germans will have found the ship. See the lights +flashing in the woods below?" Tony spoke sharply.</p> + +<p>Arno laughed. "Now I will show you how we took off on black nights. Will +your bomber lift in a hurry?"</p> + +<p>"Faster than a Nardi fighter," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Wait. I will show you," Arno said and disappeared into the blackness.</p> + +<p>"We have done it many times," Tony said, laughing.</p> + +<p>Arno was gone only a few minutes. When he returned he explained:</p> + +<p>"First we roll the ship out from under the trees by hand if we can."</p> + +<p>"That will be easy. There is a downgrade and the Mosquito is light +weight," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Then we get the engines warm enough to take off." Arno paused.</p> + +<p>"That will take a little time. We may have to stand off the Germans," +Stan said.</p> + +<p>"When the engines are hot I will place two blue flares with a red one in +the middle for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> target. It is so easy. You head for the red flare and +take off before you get to it."</p> + +<p>"Good work. You have the flares?" Allison asked.</p> + +<p>"We keep a supply here," Arno said. "I will place them. When you shout +to me that the engines are ready, I will light them. Then I come running +and we take off."</p> + +<p>"'Tis very simple," O'Malley said eagerly. "Sure, an' we better get her +rolled out."</p> + +<p>The boys got hold of the Mosquito and rolled her out. Arno made off to +set his flares. Before the boys piled in, Stan handed his tommy-gun to +Allison. "You're an artist with this sort of banjo. You stay on the +ground. If any German squads show up, you chase them back into the +woods."</p> + +<p>"Good idea, old boy," Allison said as he took the gun.</p> + +<p>Stan went up and wound up the radial motors. They coughed and sputtered +but finally took hold, first with a rumbling gallop that was uneven, +then with a smoother roar. The sound of those powerful radials shook the +night air. Stan knew their full-throated exhausts could be heard by the +Germans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flashes of light winked in the woods below, Stan judged that the German +squads were not over two hundred yards down the slope. Some might be +even farther up the hill. He tested the engines with a jerk of the +throttle. They bogged down and sputtered, too cold to take off.</p> + +<p>Suddenly rifle fire broke out across the open meadow. The Germans were +firing at the flaring exhaust flames from the Mosquito's engines. +Bullets whistled past the ship. Allison opened up and the firing from +the woods ceased. Suddenly a machine gun began to blast. Its bullets +ripped into the ship and around it. Stan gunned the engines and they +caught, bursting into a perfect and unbroken stream of power.</p> + +<p>On the ground Allison could tell by the sound of the engines that the +ship was ready. He began shouting to Arno. Stan throttled down to allow +Allison's shouts to carry.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a flare blossomed. A few minutes later another flamed. Stan +waited impatiently for what seemed a long time. He could tell by the +stabs of flame from the rifles across the meadow that the Germans were +charging down upon Arno. Then the red flare burst into flame. Stan fixed +the spot in his mind, just in case a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> German got to the flare and put it +out. Allison was blistering the Germans rushing down upon Arno, but the +distance was too great for a tommy-gun.</p> + +<p>Stan kicked the motors on, setting his brakes hard. The attackers were +now fanned out and charging across the meadow. Allison could not halt +them because they had spread out thinly over a wide front.</p> + +<p>"Should we leave Arno?" Tony asked. "He would want more than anything +else that you men got away."</p> + +<p>"We're not leavin' him!" O'Malley shouted. "I'll get down an' go help +him. He may have been hit by a bullet."</p> + +<p>"No, we won't leave him," Stan agreed grimly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Allison climbed up. "They'll be on us in a minute!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"Here comes the boy!" O'Malley bellowed.</p> + +<p>Arno's head appeared in the circle of light from the instrument panel. +Allison gave him a hand, dragging him into the cockpit.</p> + +<p>Before the trap could be closed Stan gave the Mosquito her head. She +shot away like an arrow released from a bow as her brakes eased<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> free. +Straight at the stabbing tongues of rifle fire she roared. The firing +ceased as the Germans leaped frantically out of the path of the charging +bomber.</p> + +<p>Stan held her straight for the red flare. Long before they reached it he +hoiked her tail and bounced her off. She went up like a kite caught by a +gale. O'Malley, sitting beside Stan, looked over and grinned.</p> + +<p>"That was sweet!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"You haven't seen anything yet!" Stan shouted back. He leaned toward +O'Malley, "Have Allison get the radio set working."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Allison had established long-range communications +with the base at Messina and was reporting in. O'Malley went back to put +in an order for three huckleberry pies and a steak. Arno took his place. +Stan was letting the Mosquito cruise along. He leaned toward Arno.</p> + +<p>"What about the general?"</p> + +<p>"The Germans have him. He is a prisoner at Naples," Arno said in a +worried voice.</p> + +<p>"We'll take care of that. We're taking Naples very soon," Stan assured +him.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that may not help much. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> Germans are in a fury over the +action we have taken. They will take revenge not only upon Father, but +upon the people of Naples and of every city they have occupied." Arno +looked straight ahead into the night.</p> + +<p>"We'll figure out something," Stan said grimly.</p> + +<p>O'Malley came forward and sat back of Stan. Stan called over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I am to deliver you fellows to Colonel Benson."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Benson!" O'Malley yelped. "Sure an' that means we'll spend the +rest o' the war in the guardhouse!"</p> + +<p>"That's the safest place for you," Stan retorted.</p> + +<p>Allison called forward over the intercommunication phone that the +colonel sent his regards and that he had personally ordered O'Malley's +pies and steak for him. O'Malley listened in. He began to grin.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' mebby the old brass hat has some feelin's after all."</p> + +<p>"Don't build up any false hopes," Stan warned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did he send you after us?" O'Malley demanded.</p> + +<p>"He did," Stan said.</p> + +<p>O'Malley leaned back and licked his lips. He closed his eyes so as to be +better able to get a mental picture of the pies awaiting him.</p> + +<p>Stan eased down a bit and called to Allison for a check on their +location and course. Everything looked fine and fair, but Stan knew that +it was at such times that trouble usually popped.</p> + +<p>Messina was easily located as they came in at low altitude because the +Yank and British batteries on the island were shelling the German-held +port of Reggio across the two-mile strait. Flares were blossoming along +the mainland, dropped by Yank fliers. Allison got in touch with their +field and they came in. The air traffic was heavy and the field was a +beehive of activity. No special attention was given the De Havilland +except by the crew assigned to take her over. They came racing out to +make her fast.</p> + +<p>The master mechanic grinned at Stan as he jumped down. "Good work, sir," +he said eagerly. The Mosquito was his pet and he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> worried about her +all the time she was away. After finding out where she was going he had +been sure she would never get back.</p> + +<p>Stan smiled at him. "She's home without a scratch, and she's a great +ship, sergeant," he said.</p> + +<p>The sergeant beamed happily. "She sure is, sir," he agreed proudly. Then +he added, just having remembered the important message he was to deliver +to the bomber's skipper, "Colonel Benson wishes to see your entire crew +as soon as you land." He snapped a salute and turned to his crew.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'm starved. I'm hopin' he won't give us a two-hour lecture +on how to invade Italy," O'Malley grumbled.</p> + +<p>They hurried to the colonel's headquarters, where they found their +commanding officer waiting for them. He beamed upon the dirty, unshaven +group headed by Stan.</p> + +<p>"I'll only keep you a few minutes, gentlemen," he said. "Be seated."</p> + +<p>Stan saluted smartly and spoke his piece. "I'd like you to meet General +Bolero's sons, Tony and Arno. They made it possible for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> us to deliver +the papers from the general and later to escape."</p> + +<p>"What you have done is appreciated. I hope I may be able to be of +service to you," the colonel said.</p> + +<p>"We wish to fight the Germans. We are both pilots," Arno said.</p> + +<p>"I believe that can be arranged," Colonel Benson said.</p> + +<p>He looked at Allison and O'Malley and a broad smile formed on his lips.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of the luck of the Irish. Now I am willing to add the +British to that list. What I wanted to say is that you are requested not +to talk about your experiences at all until you have reported to +headquarters in Malta. After that you will be returned to my command. No +one is going to talk me out of three fliers like you men." He looked at +Tony and Arno. "Possibly I might be able to make it five."</p> + +<p>O'Malley seemed to feel this was a soft spot where he could safely make +a request. He grinned at the colonel.</p> + +<p>"We have a job to do, sor, one that won't wait very long."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>The colonel's smile faded and he eyed O'Malley sternly. "I'm listening," +he said warily.</p> + +<p>"General Bolero has to be rescued from them Germans. They may decide to +shoot him."</p> + +<p>The colonel looked suddenly very unhappy, "That is really a job I am not +supposed to handle. After all, I am only a sector commander and not in +charge of the war in the Mediterranean area."</p> + +<p>"It could be done aisy," O'Malley said. "I'd like to have the job."</p> + +<p>The colonel regarded O'Malley grimly. "I don't doubt but you would do +it. However, there is some little risk. While you men are reporting to +headquarters, Lieutenant Wilson and I will be giving the matter our +consideration." He got to his feet. "Wilson, you see that our friends +are outfitted. Get cleaned up and have a big feed." He nodded toward +O'Malley. "I have set aside a supply of pie for you, Lieutenant."</p> + +<p>The party saluted and made off. O'Malley was not too happy. "If you +sneak off alone to get the general, I'll thrash the daylights out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> o' +you when I get back from seein' the brass hats," he growled.</p> + +<p>"I won't take on the whole German army alone," Stan assured him. "I'll +see that you're in on it."</p> + +<p>"You better," O'Malley warned sourly.</p> + +<p>They found their quarters and all headed for the showers. O'Malley +wanted to eat first but they talked him out of the idea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>SALERNO</h3> + + +<p>Events moved rapidly for Stan during the next day or so. General +Montgomery's Eighth Army was driving up the toe of the Italian boot, +while General Clarke's Fifth Yank army was having a tough time holding +its bridgehead at Salerno. Stan was tickled when O'Malley and Allison +returned. Arno and Tony came with them.</p> + +<p>Colonel Benson called the boys to his headquarters. He was a very busy +man. He was working twenty hours a day and lines of weariness furrowed +his face. His fighters and bombers were at last masters of the air over +Salerno, but they got no rest after their victory. The Germans were +entrenched in specially prepared spots on high ground overlooking the +beaches. Artillery positions had to be blasted, and the repeated tank +attacks had to be checked or the Fifth's landing force would be blasted +into the sea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boys entered the colonel's office. He nodded toward chairs. When +they were seated, he turned to Stan.</p> + +<p>"Have you any plans for the rescue of General Bolero? We need his +knowledge of military positions behind the German lines."</p> + +<p>Stan looked at Arno. "The plans are really Lieutenant Arno Bolero's," he +began. "Arno and Tony are familiar with every foot of the country where +their father is being held. He is a prisoner in a house once owned by +Don Sachetti. The Sachetti family and the Bolero family were very close +friends. Arno and Tony have spent many days at their home. If they can +go with us, we will have a chance of success."</p> + +<p>"They can go. Now what is your plan?" the colonel glanced at his wrist +watch. He was to have a conference with high officers in five minutes.</p> + +<p>"We will take one De Havilland plane. Four of us will parachute into a +field at night. Here, again, the boys will know just where to land to +hit a field of grain the Germans are saving for harvesting. The plane +will return to base and come after us the next night. If we do not set +signal flares for landing, the plane will retire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> and keep watch until +forced to fly home. It will return the next night and if we do not +signal it then, it is not to try again."</p> + +<p>Colonel Benson looked from one to the other of the boys. "I understand +you men are accustomed to such dangerous jobs. To me it seems there is +about one chance in a hundred of your even landing your parachute +force."</p> + +<p>"If there was an attack on the German field south of the place about the +time we arrive, we could get in easily," Stan suggested. "I have +prepared a set of maps showing good targets. The Bolero house is a hotel +for German officers."</p> + +<p>"I'll have operations chart a raid," the colonel promised. "Now I have +to go. Lieutenant Wilson will be in command. I have given orders to have +him supplied with what he wants." He stepped around the table and shook +hands with the boys. "I'm leaving this show up to you fellows. Good luck +to you." He turned and hurried out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' that's the first time the brass hats iver turned us loose," +O'Malley said with a big grin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And it will likely be the last time," Allison said with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>"We'd better be getting over to operations. Now, who's flying the +Mosquito?" Stan looked from Allison to O'Malley.</p> + +<p>O'Malley swallowed eagerly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he +turned to Allison. Allison grinned at him.</p> + +<p>"You fly the crate, old man. I'm one blighter who wants to get even for +some of the slaps and kicks we got in that prison dog house."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll be after flyin' her," O'Malley said. "But only because +I'm thinkin' ye'll be needin' the best pilot in this crew at the +controls o' that ship."</p> + +<p>"You hate yourself, don't you?" Stan teased. "You fly her, but just +remember, if you get into a dogfight and don't show up when we set off +our flares, you'll get the beating of your life when we walk in." He +grinned at O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"I'll be right there," O'Malley promised.</p> + +<p>All of the details had been worked out and gone over so many times by +the boys that they did not need to check again. They drew the machine +guns and grenades they needed along with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> flares and other equipment. +The supply officer got blue parachutes for them from an operating unit.</p> + +<p>"Can't be spotted at night," he explained.</p> + +<p>Evening was closing in by the time they had everything set. The Mosquito +was warmed up and ready. She was stripped down for carrier purposes and +to enable her to handle an extra gasoline tank. The ground crews gave +her a final once-over, waved to her crew, and backed off. Stan sat up +front in the copilot's seat to see that O'Malley was not teased into a +fight. Allison and the Bolero brothers manned the machine guns.</p> + +<p>O'Malley was a bit skeptical about the powers of the De Havilland, in +spite of what Stan had told him. He gunned her and gave her her head. +When she snapped off the ground in a manner that would have done credit +to a Lightning, he began to grin and mumble to himself.</p> + +<p>"Just don't get any wild ideas," Stan warned. They had sighted a flight +of Focke-Wulf 190 fighters and O'Malley was eying the Germans with a +dangerous gleam in his eye.</p> + +<p>"If they run in on us, ye can't blame me," he said sourly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>The 190 fighters tried a run at the De Havilland, but she ran away from +them before they could begin to cut her off.</p> + +<p>"She's so fast she keeps out of trouble," O'Malley said in disgust.</p> + +<p>"That's just what she was built for. Every night her sisters keep Berlin +awake with bombing attacks, and every night they fly materials and +dispatches from England to Malta. This is something you've overlooked, +Irisher." Stan chided O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"I may be after lookin' into her doings one o' these days. Spendin' +ivery other evenin' in London wouldn't be so bad," O'Malley decided.</p> + +<p>Heading north they eased across the backbone of the peninsula which the +Germans had not taken the trouble to occupy in any numbers. They moved +along while darkness settled. Arno and Tony kept a close check on +landmarks. Finally Arno called up to Stan over the phone.</p> + +<p>"We can head west again. I have located the ridge and the mountain we +will use as a marker."</p> + +<p>O'Malley headed the Mosquito west, letting her ease down to low +altitude. Arno called in directions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We are coming to the divide. There we will follow the ridge north."</p> + +<p>O'Malley followed instructions. As they swept up the ridge they saw +below them a great fire, with several smaller fires breaking out near +by.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Benson's boys have hit the flying field," Stan observed to +O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I think they're over the Bolero place right now." O'Malley +jerked his head to the right. At that moment Tony's voice came in over +the intercom.</p> + +<p>"The bombers are attacking the villa." He tried not to show his +feelings, but the boys knew how he felt. His home was being blasted.</p> + +<p>"The whole German staff for this area ought to be down there at this +hour," Stan answered. "It's tough, but we have to do it."</p> + +<p>"I know," Tony agreed. "If the boys catch even half the staff there, +I'll be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Now head west again, very low," Arno ordered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley swept lower over the darkening terrain. Stan began to wonder +how Arno was going to spot any landmarks. Hopping out into the night +would not be so nice. There were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> lakes and woods and rocky ridges all +over the country.</p> + +<p>"Into the valley a point left," Arno called. "Fly low and line up on two +peaks with square tops which should be against the sky."</p> + +<p>O'Malley and Stan peered ahead as the Mosquito dropped into a wide +valley.</p> + +<p>"There's yer peaks," O'Malley said. Stan spotted the markers as his pal +spoke. Two peaks with square tops loomed against the sky ahead.</p> + +<p>"Regular gunsights," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Get everything ready to jump," Arno called.</p> + +<p>Stan slapped O'Malley on the shoulder. "Be seein' you soon," he said as +he slid back to help with the guns and other things they were taking +along.</p> + +<p>He found the boys getting set. Tony was loaded and ready to jump. Arno +was spotting his markers.</p> + +<p>"Go!" he called.</p> + +<p>Tony unloaded through the open hatch and disappeared into the blue +blackness, followed closely by Allison. Arno nodded to Stan and Stan +piled out. As he went down into the cool night he slid his hand to the +rip cord. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> were jumping from low altitude and there was no time for +free falling. He pulled the cord and felt his chute open and snap him +into suspension. A shadowy form above him and very close told him that +Arno had wasted no time in following him out of the ship.</p> + +<p>Stan adjusted his pack and his tommy-gun for a landing. Peering down, he +saw the field they were to land on. At first he thought Arno had missed +and dropped them over a lake. He could dimly see what looked like +rippling waves. Then his feet touched waving grain and he eased up on +the cords to make his landing. A split second later he was down in a +field of tall and ripening grain. Wadding his chute up he drew in a deep +breath. The field reminded him of Kansas with its rich, ripe smells.</p> + +<p>A low whistle off to his right indicated one of the boys was asking for +a location. Stan gave a bird call and listened. He got three answers and +heard his pals working their way toward him. Twice more he gave the +assembly signal. Then he noticed that the sky above and over toward the +twin peaks was lighting up with streaks and points of light. Tracers +were arcing up and over, in and out. Grimly Stan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> watched. Night +fighters had tackled O'Malley. He watched the battle, following the +action by the tracers and the bursts of cannonfire. Suddenly one of the +planes broke into flame. Like a torch it twisted earthward.</p> + +<p>"Could have been a Messerschmitt," Arno spoke close beside Stan.</p> + +<p>"It burned up like a plywood job," Allison's voice said. He spoke in his +usual unruffled drawl.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley never would run from a fight," Stan said grimly.</p> + +<p>"This time I think he ran," Tony cut in.</p> + +<p>Allison laughed. "You just don't know O'Malley, old man."</p> + +<p>"No matter what happened to O'Malley we have to get going. Lead on, +Arno," Stan ordered. There was no use in going sour over what might be a +tough battle. They had plenty of work to do.</p> + +<p>Arno led the way out of the wheat field. He located a thick woods and +they entered it. A few minutes of walking through tangled bushes brought +them out on a pathway.</p> + +<p>"This is the trail to the orchard," Arno whispered to Tony.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is another trail branching off, the one we used to follow when we +went swimming in the little lake below the hill," Tony said.</p> + +<p>"That one we must find," Arno answered as he moved on.</p> + +<p>The boys had their packs swung high on their backs. Their tommy-guns +were held ready. If the night fighters who had jumped O'Malley had +spotted the parachutes they would have given an alarm. Arno seemed to be +thinking about this. He moved carefully, pausing to listen every few +yards.</p> + +<p>Tony was bringing up the rear. He called softly to Arno. "Here is the +trail, you passed it."</p> + +<p>They halted and went back. Arno checked the cross trail.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this is the trail," he said.</p> + +<p>He headed off to the right and they followed. Coming to the top of a +little hill they saw lights below, dim and shaded lights, but many of +them.</p> + +<p>"That is the house," Arno said.</p> + +<p>"How far is it?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"About a kilometer," Arno answered.</p> + +<p>"Less than a mile to go. What's in between?" Stan asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is a settlement where the Sachetti farm workers used to live. I +see lights down there." Arno was bending forward, peering into the +night.</p> + +<p>"And I hear cars and trucks," Allison added. "I'll bet the Germans have +a repair depot or an assembly point down there."</p> + +<p>"In that case the half mile between the settlement and the house will be +filled with Germans," Tony said.</p> + +<p>"One way to find out. Lead on," Stan ordered.</p> + +<p>The little group moved slowly down the trail. After a couple of halts +Arno paused and pulled the boys close to him.</p> + +<p>"I think it best to leave the trail. Just a little way ahead it opens +into a roadway. There we should certainly run into outposts."</p> + +<p>"We better go on until we locate them," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"If you think that is the best way," Arno agreed.</p> + +<p>"I'll walk ahead with you," Stan said.</p> + +<p>They moved along very slowly, stopping every few feet to listen. Finally +they heard guttural voices in the darkness ahead. Halting,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> they +listened. Allison moved forward a little to try to overhear what was +said. Soon he came back.</p> + +<p>"This is the outpost," he whispered. "Six men and two machine guns. They +are about to change guards." He chuckled. "And they do not expect us."</p> + +<p>"Can we move around them?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"We could, but I think we should stay. An officer is coming out to +inspect the guard. He's coming from Villa Sachetti." Stan could almost +see Allison's sardonic smile. "Nice spot for a surprise party, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Swell," Stan answered. "We'll take over the post. Allison can be the +decoy to lure the officer in close. He speaks German."</p> + +<p>"Good, very good," Arno said eagerly. "Will we use the short knives on +them?"</p> + +<p>"No shooting if we can help it. We'll shove in close and have a look." +Stan began moving down the pathway with Allison at his side. The party +kept very close together so as to be able to give signals to each other +without speaking.</p> + +<p>After edging forward a short distance they were halted by a gruff laugh +ahead. Getting down low they peered through the starlight and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> spotted +the sentries. They were grouped close together, four seated, two +standing. The two men standing up moved off, one to the left and one to +the right. Stan got his crew into a close huddle.</p> + +<p>"Allison and I will do our commando stuff on the two guards walking +post. I take the one on the right, Allison the other. You boys stay +right here. We'll be back soon." Stan spoke in a low whisper.</p> + +<p>One of the seated Germans suddenly sprang to his feet. He stood looking +into the night toward the party of raiders. Tony started to move +forward. Stan pulled him back. The German walked up the pathway a few +feet and halted, listening. The boys turned their faces away and +remained perfectly still. After a minute or so the man went back and sat +down. Stan gave Allison a signal and they moved off the pathway. They +left their tommy-guns and carried only their pistols, knives, and short +lengths of rope.</p> + +<p>Stan moved silently along in a direction that would cut across the beat +walked by the sentry. Soon he spotted his man moving at a slow walk +along what appeared to be a pathway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> Stan moved in and halted beside a +bush. There he remained without moving a muscle. The sentry had reached +the end of his beat and was turning back. Stan ducked his head to make +sure no light was reflected from his face. Tensing his muscles he +waited.</p> + +<p>The sentry seemed to be enjoying the night. He sauntered along, his +rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder. The barrel missed Stan's head +by inches as the man brushed past the bushes where he stood. +Straightening, Stan leaned far forward, his arm shot out and encircled +the man's neck. At the same time his knee came up through the bushes in +a smashing blow. The expert application of Stan's arm and the blow in +the spine knocked the German limp at once. He did not struggle and he +could not cry out. Stan dragged him back into the bushes, hurriedly +gagged and bound him.</p> + +<p>Moving swiftly back to the pathway he came upon the boys. Allison was +already back, kneeling with Tony and Arno.</p> + +<p>"Fast work," Stan whispered softly.</p> + +<p>"He was a rotten soldier," Allison answered. "He sat down and started +removing one boot."</p> + +<p>"We'll close in fast but without noise. I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> a hunch we'll get a +break. If two of the men should start out to check the men we disposed +of, Allison and I will take them out. You boys take the other two. Make +sure they don't get a chance to yell."</p> + +<p>"They will not yell," Arno promised grimly.</p> + +<p>The four raiders moved in on their hands and knees. They halted only a +few yards from the four men. Here they waited. Finally one of the men +got up and called. He listened, then challenged his sentries again. When +there was no answer he caught up a rifle, snapped an order to one of the +others, and headed off down the picket line.</p> + +<p>Instantly Allison slithered away into the night. One of the others got +to his feet grumbling loudly. He caught his rifle up and held it at +ready as he moved off. Stan was after him at once.</p> + +<p>Before Stan had overtaken the guard, having allowed him to get down the +pathway a little distance, so as not to arouse the two left behind, he +heard sounds of scuffling. Arno and Tony had not waited. They were in +action.</p> + +<p>Stan leaped in upon the guard just as the fellow whirled around. He +knocked up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> man's gun and closed with him. The German shouted once +before Stan could get a strangle hold upon him, then he went down, +struggling wildly. He was a burly fellow with powerful arms and thick +legs. Stan was not sure that he could hold the headlock he had slid down +into a strangle grip.</p> + +<p>They flopped and thrashed around until Stan finally worked behind the +German and put on more pressure. After that the fellow wilted in short +order. Stan was binding and gagging him when Arno came running to help +him.</p> + +<p>"Did we act too quickly?" he asked in great excitement.</p> + +<p>"A bit fast," Stan admitted, "but I have him now. He was a tough +customer." Stan rolled the sentry into a clump of bushes and faced Arno. +"How did Tony make out?"</p> + +<p>"Fine, very fine. Tony hates all Germans." Arno laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>They moved back to the guard station and found Allison and Tony there. +One glance at the two sentries Arno and Tony had silenced told Stan they +would not have to be bound or gagged. The boys had used their knives +expertly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now about the reception committee?" Allison queried softly.</p> + +<p>"We need four helmets. I have one and there are two on the ground. Get +one more," Stan ordered.</p> + +<p>"I have it," Allison answered. "On my head."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, Allison was wearing a German helmet. "You boys know what +the Germans will do with us if they catch us wearing even one of their +helmets?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"The firing squad," Arno answered as he slipped one on his head.</p> + +<p>"If the inspector's car has its lights on bright we'll have to get down. +Arno and I will be out on each side as though on beat. Allison will have +to make up a challenge that will pass."</p> + +<p>"I have their password," Allison answered. "Got it from the man who +brought up word of the inspection. He gave it to get up to the post."</p> + +<p>"The Germans are not so smart," Tony said. "They are fools to warn their +soldiers of a coming inspection."</p> + +<p>Allison laughed. "The man who came up was a pal of the squad. He was +tipping them off."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's a car coming up the road," Stan warned. "Use your tommy-guns to +cover them, but no shooting unless we have to fight it out."</p> + +<p>He and Arno moved into the darkness, leaving Allison and Tony seated on +the bench which had been used by the Germans.</p> + +<p>"There ought to be four of us here," Tony said.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that will make any difference," Allison said. "They'll +think the others are out on the beat."</p> + +<p>The car came up the gentle slope slowly. It did not have its bright +lights on. The slit in the headlight hood gave only a meager amount of +light and did not show more than ten feet ahead of the car. Allison +moved several paces down the road and shouted an order in German.</p> + +<p>The car halted and Allison shouted again, making his voice gruff. He got +the password and snapped permission to advance. The car charged forward +in a surge of speed that made Allison leap aside.</p> + +<p>From the darkness beside the road Stan had moved in. He saw that there +were three men in the car, counting the driver. He also saw the shadowy +form of Arno closing in on the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> side. A tall officer climbed out. +He snapped an order at Allison. Allison backed away a few steps to allow +the other two officers to get out. Stan had moved up and Arno had a gun +barrel shoved into the neck of the driver. Tony leaped forward with his +gun ready.</p> + +<p>"Get your hands up!" he snapped and Allison gave the same order in +German at the same instant.</p> + +<p>Startled grunts came from the three officers. One of them reached for +his pistol. Allison's gun barrel came down over his head and the officer +pitched forward. The other two elevated their hands.</p> + +<p>The boys closed in and took away the men's side arms. They helped +themselves to caps and light topcoats and belts, then they bound and +gagged the officers. The ranking officer, a colonel, was furious. Until +the gag stopped his mouth he poured forth a stream of angry abuse.</p> + +<p>With the officers laid out far back in the bushes, Arno donned the +driver's cap and jacket. They were ready for the real adventure, +cracking the gates of the German prison camp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know the roads, so you take over, Arno," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Shall we drive right through and into the front yard of the big house?" +Arno asked.</p> + +<p>"Is there a back yard?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"A very spacious one, but with a high stone fence around it and only one +gate, though it is a very wide gate," Arno answered.</p> + +<p>"There is the stone passageway to the wine cellars," Tony put in.</p> + +<p>"We don't want to be caught in any wine cellar," Allison answered.</p> + +<p>"We have to figure on fast work. The dirty work we've done here will be +discovered within a few hours, then they'll be after us," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I know the house and I think I know the spot where prisoners will be +held. The Germans always take the best rooms for themselves. I think +they will hold my father in the servants quarters at the back of the +house. I have even decided which room he will be given. There is one +having no running water and very little light."</p> + +<p>"We'll have a look there first," Stan said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> "If we park in the back +we'll be near to those rooms?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Arno answered. "We can reach them through a narrow hallway +without entering the main part of the house."</p> + +<p>"O.K., driver, move on."</p> + +<p>Arno started the car and they rolled down the road at a fast pace. Stan +could not see the road but Arno knew every turn. They soon swung into a +long driveway and headed toward a big stone gate with machine gunners at +each side. Sentries armed with rifles paced back and forth across the +opening.</p> + +<p>"Here goes!" Stan snapped. "Try your German on the boys. If you flop, we +start shooting our way in."</p> + +<p>Arno charged up in the best German manner of driving an official car. +The heavy machine guns on each side of the gate converged on the car and +one of the sentries bellowed an order.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>NIGHT RAID</h3> + + +<p>Arno did not put on his brakes until he had forced the guards at the +gate back two paces. Allison leaned out over the door, his cap pulled +down over his eyes. He bellowed loudly in German, blurring a string of +words together and winding up with the password from the outside post. +He was taking a chance that that was the password for the whole area.</p> + +<p>The guards backed away, presented arms, and jerked into stiff positions +of attention. Arno lost no time in shooting the car through the gates. +They entered a shadowy courtyard where the light was dim. The Yank raid +on Bolero Villa, just over the hill, had caused every post in the +vicinity to be blacked out.</p> + +<p>"We are under the window of the room," Arno said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"There's a guard down the wall a ways," Allison said. "I'll give you +fellows a calling-down in German to make the guard think I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> really on +the warpath, then we'll march right in."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had better try the window while you are trying the door," +Tony said. "You might have trouble. There will be plenty of light +inside."</p> + +<p>Allison raised his voice and began berating the boys in German. +"<i>Schwinehund!</i>" he bellowed and followed that up with other choice +words of abuse. He had a bright idea and added that he was going to find +the man who had handled the blackout. He said he could see light from +the back hallway all the way out to the road.</p> + +<p>Instantly they heard the guard moving toward the back door.</p> + +<p>"Now's our chance," Allison whispered. "I said we could see light from +the back hallway. We'll make them douse the lights."</p> + +<p>They headed toward the back door and stomped up the wide steps. The +guard opened the door and they saw that the hallway was dark. Allison +roared at the fellow and he came to a stiff salute, presenting arms.</p> + +<p>"General Bolero," Allison snapped. "We would speak to him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boys did not understand, but they caught the general's name and had +an idea. The guard protested but Allison thrust several papers at him. +He had taken the papers from the officer's pocket but had no idea what +they were. When the man started to use a pocket flashlight to read the +papers, Allison smashed the light out of his hand, roaring at him about +the blackout.</p> + +<p>The soldier was thoroughly cowed. He turned and started down the hallway +with the boys close behind him. Tony had found the window barred on the +outside and had joined the others. He nudged Stan as they halted before +a door. It was the very room Arno had said his father would be kept in.</p> + +<p>The guard unlocked the door. As it opened, a flood of light shone over +the men. The general's window had been boarded up, so he was allowed a +light. He was sitting at a little table writing. Stan did not wait to +see any more. He knew the guard was wise the moment he saw the raiders +in the bright light. Their shoes and trousers gave them away as well as +their faces. Stan had moved along very close to the guard. His arm went +out in a perfect commando attack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> and before the guard had time to shout +he was silenced and heaved into the room.</p> + +<p>In an instant Tony was across the room and in his father's arms. Arno +stood beside them gripping one of the general's arms. The general looked +over Tony's shoulder at Stan and Allison.</p> + +<p>"I am honored," he said.</p> + +<p>"Turn out the light," Stan ordered.</p> + +<p>The general shoved Tony aside and switched off the light. "You have +taken greater chances than you should. I am hardly worth the effort."</p> + +<p>When he had ceased speaking they listened. Several men were moving down +the hall, talking in angry voices.</p> + +<p>"That is the commandant of this post. I know his voice. He has with him +a number of his officers," the general said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"They'll wonder where the other guard is," Stan said. "We better jerk +the boards off that window and get out of here."</p> + +<p>"That cannot be done," the general said. "They are planks, not boards, +and they are spiked to the outside of the house."</p> + +<p>Allison had opened the door a crack. "They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> have turned on the light. +There's five of them, and they seem excited."</p> + +<p>"How far down the hallway?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"At the door," Allison answered.</p> + +<p>The voice of one of the men lifted as he shouted an order. "He's calling +in a squad of armed men from the gate," Allison said.</p> + +<p>"It seems we are trapped," Arno said grimly.</p> + +<p>"Can we go out the front way?" Stan snapped, turning to Tony.</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is a side door and a front door. But we can't get back to +our car because of the walls around the back plaza."</p> + +<p>"Our tommy-guns and grenades are in the car," Allison said.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to chance it and move fast. Lead off." Stan reached for the +doorknob. Opening the door a little way he looked out. The five officers +were standing in the doorway down the hall looking out into the night.</p> + +<p>Stan stepped out, whipping his Colt from its holster as he went. "Down +the hall!" he hissed. "Lead them, Tony. I'll cover your retreat."</p> + +<p>The raiders and the general moved out and started down the hall. They +had taken only a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> few steps, when one of the officers at the door turned +around. He let out a startled shout. The others whirled. Stan covered +them with his Colt. The distance was a full thirty feet, good shooting +range for the forty-five.</p> + +<p>"Get your hands up!" Stan snapped. The bore of his gun wavered over the +stomachs of the officers and came to rest on a spot between the eyes of +the colonel.</p> + +<p>Amazement showed on the faces of the Germans, then hatred and fury.</p> + +<p>"Fools!" the colonel grated. "You will all be shot as soon as the alarm +is sounded."</p> + +<p>Stan was moving backward. He grinned at the colonel and made a good +bluff. His free hand slid into the pocket of his coat. "Perhaps," he +said loudly. "But I have a grenade here, an American-made grenade. You +know how much damage they do. I'm going to toss it right where you are +standing just as soon as I get to the corner."</p> + +<p>He knew at once that he had scored a hit. The Germans knew that tossing +a grenade in just that manner was the way Rangers and Commandos worked. +Three of the men, those in the doorway, dived out into the night where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +they began shouting. The colonel and one other officer edged toward the +door. Stan reached the corner and made a motion to jerk his hand out of +his pocket. The two Germans dived for the door.</p> + +<p>"Whirling, Stan raced down the hall. He was passing a door when a hand +reached out and jerked him into a dark room or hall, he could not tell +which. Allison's voice hissed:</p> + +<p>"Inside, we're going up on the roof." Stan heard the door slam and all +was dark. "Tony knows how to go through a French window in this room out +to a trellis. We climb the vines."</p> + +<p>"But the general, he's pretty heavy," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"The boys are boosting him up right now." Allison was dragging Stan +across the room.</p> + +<p>They went through the window and saw the stars above. Dark shapes loomed +against the wall of the house where vines climbed up to the eaves. Stan +and Allison started up the trellis. They could hear General Bolero +puffing and grunting as Tony and Arno helped him climb upward.</p> + +<p>Stan looked down and saw the top of the garden wall. "I'm going down +after some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> grenades and a submachine gun," he hissed. Before Allison +could stop him he had swung over the wall and was dangling in space. The +vines ended at the wall and Stan could not see what was below. He took a +chance and cut loose.</p> + +<p>Stan was lucky. He landed on top of a canvas-covered van. The padding +dulled the thud of his landing. He sat up and listened. The yard below +was filled with shouting and yelling. Boots pounded as men ran across +the hard ground. Doors slammed and someone fired a pistol. Stan whistled +but got no answer. Then he spotted his gang. They were crouching on the +roof above. Stan whistled louder and saw a shape detach itself and slide +down toward the edge of the roof. He was sure it was Allison. When the +dark shape loomed directly above him he called up cautiously.</p> + +<p>"There's a canvas-covered van right here. Get the men and have them drop +off on top of it."</p> + +<p>"Pretty far down, isn't it, old man?" Allison called back.</p> + +<p>"Not too far," Stan answered. "We'll get to our car and blast our way +out of here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>Allison moved back up the roof. In a minute he was back with the general +and his sons.</p> + +<p>"General Bolero coming down first," Allison called softly.</p> + +<p>Stan moved back but got ready to help the general. A bulky form swung +down from the roof, then fell, landing with a thud beside Stan. Stan +helped the general to a sitting position.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Only slightly jarred," the general assured him.</p> + +<p>The others dropped off in a hurry. They crowded around Stan. "Now to get +to our car," Stan said.</p> + +<p>They slid off the back of the van. It was parked a yard from the wall of +the house. Other vans stood beside it as closely as they could be packed +in. The raiders moved along the wall, halting behind the last van. The +car they wanted to reach was only a few feet away, but it was surrounded +by a squad of men. Flashlight beams stabbed into the car and men talked +excitedly.</p> + +<p>Inside the house there was a great uproar as the Germans searched for +the missing men. Tony chuckled, then whispered:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Little Don Sachetti and I used to get spanked for sneaking through that +window and climbing the trellis."</p> + +<p>"We had better take over that car and our guns and grenades. This is the +best chance we'll ever have. Most of the Germans are in the house," Stan +said.</p> + +<p>"Don Sachetti was executed yesterday. I think he would rest better if we +tossed a few grenades through the windows of his home," the general +said. "By all means let us proceed with the capture of the car and +matériel."</p> + +<p>"You drive, Arno," Stan ordered. "Fan out, boys, and start shooting when +they spot us." He turned to the general. "Sorry, sir, that we do not +have a gun for you."</p> + +<p>"I will soon have one," the general answered grimly.</p> + +<p>The boys spread out in the darkness along the side of the last van. They +moved forward with automatic pistols ready. Stan picked his man, a burly +officer with a flashlight. The Germans were so intent upon the arms they +had found that they did not see their attackers until the boys were upon +them. The burly officer was the one who sounded the alarm. He shouted +loudly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> as he shot his light over the raiders. Instantly the boys opened +up. With pistols flaming they charged. Stan saw the general leap ahead +and tear a rifle from the hands of a falling German.</p> + +<p>For a moment the action was furious, but the fire from the forty-fives +was deadly and the Germans went down or leaped away. Stan located a sack +of grenades that had been removed from the car. He took out a couple and +tossed them over toward the big gate. The result was all that he had +hoped it would be. A dozen armed guards had been standing at the gates +under shaded lights, while the machine-gun crews outside were dragging +their guns around to bring them to bear inside the yard. After the +second grenade exploded with a roar Stan saw nothing at the gate at all +except a pile of bricks where one of the entrance pillars had stood a +moment before.</p> + +<p>"Good going, but Tony has been hit," Allison shouted. "Better get into +the car!"</p> + +<p>Arno had the engine roaring while Allison and the general were sweeping +the yard with tommy-gun fire. Tony lay on the floor of the car, shoved +down to keep him clear of flying lead. From the shadows all around them +bullets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> were whining. Stan slid in beside Arno. He could not find a +tommy-gun, but he had the sack of grenades on his lap. Leaning out +through the window of the car he began lobbing them at the windows of +the big house. He hoped some of those he tossed would be incendiary +grenades. Arno drove parallel to the house for a short distance to give +Stan a chance with his grenades.</p> + +<p>The car swerved as they passed the door. Stan was able to plant a +grenade into the open door and to add another before they straightened +out for the charge at the gate. They hit the pile of loose bricks lying +in the entrance and one tire exploded. The car wobbled and careened but +shoved through the opening without turning over.</p> + +<p>As they smashed through, Stan saw flames leaping out of the doorway. A +gaping hole in the wall, revealed by the fire, showed where one grenade +had done its work. They had charged ahead only a few hundred yards and +were not clear of the driveway when they saw ahead of them a small tank +and two trucks. Men on foot swarmed beside the vehicle. With a roar the +whole driveway ahead burst into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> action. The careening car had been +sighted. Arno twisted the wheel and they plunged through a hedge and +down a steep bank where the car came to halt with its radiator smashed +against the trunk of a tree.</p> + +<p>"Get the tommy-guns and grenades," Stan snapped. "Get Tony out!"</p> + +<p>Tony was already out. "I have the wound plugged," he said in a weak +voice. "I'll manage."</p> + +<p>"We'll help you along," Stan said. "You lead the way, Arno."</p> + +<p>"I know best how to get out of here. I was here more than Arno," Tony +said. "I'll lead you."</p> + +<p>"Give him a hand, Arno," Stan said. "They're coming through the hedge up +above."</p> + +<p>Allison and Stan opened up on a group of Germans breaking through the +hedge above. Their gunfire drove the Germans back and allowed Arno and +the general time to get Tony up the bank and into the woods.</p> + +<p>Whirling, they ran up the bank and overtook the three who were waiting +for them.</p> + +<p>"Where to now?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"We have to stay in the woods and keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> moving. Near the top of the +ridge we'll find a small lake. There are a number of small huts up +there. We can hide in one of them." Arno spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>"But they'll search every foot of the woods and every hut," Allison +objected.</p> + +<p>"They do a very good job of hunting down escaped men," Stan agreed.</p> + +<p>"We might fool them if we hide in the Sachetti villa. They would never +think of looking for us there," Tony said.</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea, but how can we get in without being discovered?" the +general asked.</p> + +<p>"There's an outside air shaft leading down into the cellars. It is +covered with vines and there is a tree growing beside it," Tony said. "I +used to be able to slide down that shaft."</p> + +<p>"A good idea," Stan said. He was beginning to realize that Tony would +not be able to travel very far or very fast. "Let's get going."</p> + +<p>"See, they are making a circle around the woods," Tony said.</p> + +<p>Lights were flashing above and below them. But the Germans did not seem +to think it necessary to throw a line between the woods and the house. +Arno and General Bolero helped Tony.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> Stan and Allison brought up the +rear. They moved through the trees and across a garden thickly planted +with shrubbery and grapevines.</p> + +<p>Behind them the woods were filled with German soldiers. The searchers +had fanned out into the valley below and upon the hills above the villa.</p> + +<p>"Here is the shaft," Tony said as they halted in the black darkness +under a tree.</p> + +<p>Stan could see nothing that looked like a shaft or like the roof of a +wine cellar.</p> + +<p>"We must be careful not to disturb the vines or the bushes." Tony +laughed softly. "Mr. Sachetti went to a great deal of trouble in hiding +the cellar and the shaft. He said they ruined the beauty of his garden." +Tony was pushing aside bushes as he spoke. Finally he called very +softly. "Come now."</p> + +<p>The raiders moved under the spreading branches of the tree and from +there they crawled under a leafy vine. They found an open shaft with a +high metal cone over it. Tony and Arno went down first. When the general +tried it he had trouble squeezing down the shaft. Stan was the last to +slip through. He lowered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> the guns and grenades to Allison before he +descended. Sliding down he found himself in total darkness.</p> + +<p>"Now we have to hide. The Germans will be coming down here often for +wine." Tony spoke eagerly. "We'll hide behind the vats containing the +new crop of grapes. The Germans will drink only the old wines. They are +on this side."</p> + +<p>Feeling their way they located a row of huge barrels and crawled in +behind them. Stan and Allison located themselves near the outside +barrel.</p> + +<p>"We can hear the doors open when anyone comes down here," Tony said. +"The hinges are rusty and will squeak loudly."</p> + +<p>"How about dressing your wound now, Tony?" General Bolero suggested. "I +will tend to it myself."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>NIGHT FLIGHT</h3> + + +<p>The creaking hinges of the wine cellar door served as a warning signal +to the hiding men behind the wine casks. Every time a German orderly was +sent for wine they knew he was coming before he had even entered the +short passageway leading into the main room. Usually the men were sent +in pairs, sometimes three or four came. The men always had liberal +samples of the wine before filling the decanters for the officers.</p> + +<p>The cellar was damp and smelled of rotting wood and stale wine. The +space behind the wine casks was limited and legs developed cramps as the +night and the next day wore on. Belts had to be tightened over empty +stomachs, but there was no complaining. Tony regained his strength and +with it his belief that they would escape.</p> + +<p>"We can't very well climb back out of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> chute," Allison said for the +tenth time. "We'll have to plan some other strategy. It's three <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> +right now and we still don't have any ideas. We have to be up at that +wheat field by midnight."</p> + +<p>"I'll slip out into the hallway and have a look," Stan offered.</p> + +<p>"And get caught," Allison said sourly.</p> + +<p>Further talk was halted. The hinges of the door creaked dismally. Four +men entered and turned on the small light over the row of old wine +barrels. They talked and had a few drinks before filling the pitchers +they carried. There was much laughing and joking. When they had gone, +Allison translated their conversation.</p> + +<p>"We finally have some information," he said. "The Germans blame the +Italian peasants for our disappearance. They are sure the peasants +spirited us away and they are taking reprisals."</p> + +<p>"That is like them," General Bolero said sadly.</p> + +<p>"And here is the big news. The Germans figure we have escaped and will +reach the British lines in the south. They expect a bombing raid upon +this spot, similar to the one on the Bolero villa. So tonight they will +evacuate under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> cover of darkness and they will put this place, wine +cellar and all, to the torch before they go." Allison laughed.</p> + +<p>"When are they going?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"They plan to get out as soon as darkness comes to cover their movements +from our air force, which seems to have taken over the sky. As soon as +they have evacuated they will destroy the place. I gather the high +command has ordered that every place evacuated is to be destroyed in +revenge for Italy's quitting the war."</p> + +<p>"So. We have to get out of here by dark," General Bolero said. "And that +we will do."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"We will evacuate with the Germans," the general said. "That is our only +chance."</p> + +<p>"Right-o," Allison agreed.</p> + +<p>"So we may as well lay a few plans." The general seemed eager to get +into action.</p> + +<p>"We could shoot our way out," Tony suggested.</p> + +<p>"We would do better to use our heads," the general said firmly.</p> + +<p>"We ought to be able to take over one of the gangs sent here to get +wine. The German officers will want to haul away all of this fine wine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +they can possibly take with them," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Now we're beginning to get places," Allison agreed.</p> + +<p>For the next hour they planned and talked. Tony explained the route they +would have to take to get to the field where O'Malley was to pick them +up. No one said anything about O'Malley's not being there at midnight. +Their big worry was to get to the field themselves.</p> + +<p>It was well after dark, according to their watches, when things began to +happen. An officer and a squad of soldiers entered the cellar. The +officer barked commands at the men for a few minutes, then marched off.</p> + +<p>The raiders crowded close to Allison to learn what had been ordered. +Allison whispered his report while the men a few feet away began rolling +barrels from the racks.</p> + +<p>"They are taking the old wine. The new wine in these vats is to be +poured out. The barrels are to be smashed. They have a drum of gasoline +outside and will pour it into the cellar and set fire to it as they +leave." Allison paused. "They have a simple method worked out for +emptying these barrels. After the gasoline is set afire the men are to +toss a few grenades<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> in here to smash the barrels and make certain the +cellar is destroyed."</p> + +<p>"We better take over right now," Stan said. "Those birds have only side +arms. We'll slide out with our tommy-guns covering them. Each take a +barrel and when I whistle step out."</p> + +<p>The German workmen were startled out of their wits a second or two later +when five armed men stepped out from behind barrels and covered them +with machine guns and a rifle. They stared at General Bolero, blinked +their eyes wildly, and then elevated their arms toward the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Tie them up," Stan ordered. "Take the door with Arno." He nodded to +Allison. "If any more men come, cover them and bring them back here."</p> + +<p>Tony and the general and Stan got busy. It took a little time to bind +and gag eight men when the bonds and gags had to be ripped from their +clothing with trench knives. Before that was finished Allison and Arno +added two more noncom officers who had come in to hurry up the squad.</p> + +<p>"I suggest we each roll a barrel outside," General Bolero said. "We can +use them as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> something to hide behind if we meet resistance."</p> + +<p>"Good idea," Stan agreed. He turned to Tony. "Can we get out without +charging the main gate? If we rouse the Germans, we'll be in the same +spot we were in the first time we got loose."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Tony answered.</p> + +<p>The problem was solved by the appearance of an officer. He bellowed +angrily into the cellar, then took a step or two into the dark +passageway. That was a mistake. Allison tapped him over the head with a +gun barrel and dragged him back.</p> + +<p>"He says the villa has been fired. There is only a few minutes to load +up and get out." Allison laid the officer beside his men.</p> + +<p>"We won't tie him up. When he comes to he can free his men. I wouldn't +roast even a German," Stan snapped. "Get a barrel and let's get going."</p> + +<p>The floor and the passageway sloped gently down into the cellar because +the barrels always came in full and went out empty. The boys soon +discovered that it took two of them to roll a heavy barrel. They managed +to get three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> barrels rolling and headed for the entrance.</p> + +<p>Outside they found a big van with a driver who was dancing up and down +shouting. Three planks sloped up into the truck. The first barrel hit +the planking and the boys heaved it up. The driver was yelling wildly +and he had every reason to yell. The yard was as light as day. Flames +licked up all around the house and the smaller buildings blazed +furiously. The heat was intense and the smoke was thick.</p> + +<p>Allison snapped an order at the driver and the fellow put a shoulder +against the next barrel. No sooner had he leaned forward than Arno +tapped him over the head with his pistol butt.</p> + +<p>"Get our guns and the sack of grenades and flares," Stan shouted. "Arno, +you drive."</p> + +<p>They had two barrels in the back of the van where they could be seen. In +a moment the guns and the grenades were in the truck along with Tony, +the general, and Allison. Stan armed himself with a tommy-gun and rode +up front with Arno.</p> + +<p>Out at the main gate guards were shouting and waving at the van to hurry +up. No Germans remained in the courtyard. Arno started<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> the van and they +headed for the gate. The guards wanted a ride, but Arno had gotten up +speed and did not stop. They roared down the driveway and headed out +into the road. Foot soldiers were everywhere. Arno slipped into a line +of trucks and they chugged along toward the settlement. They reached it +without mishap, though a dozen officers had shouted orders at them, and +one captain had ridden several hundred yards on their running board. The +complete blackout necessary to make a convoy movement safe helped a lot.</p> + +<p>Reaching the settlement, they were directed to a grove of trees where +their truck was shoved back into deep cover.</p> + +<p>Allison came forward and got in with Stan. When an officer came along +checking their load, he explained they had wine for the officers' mess +and suggested it be shoved deeper into the woods to keep it from being +tapped by the soldiers. The officer cleared a pathway and led them deep +into the timber beyond the rest of the convoy. He ordered the crew to +report to a designated spot and then rushed off.</p> + +<p>The five raiders gathered beside the truck and broke out laughing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So considerate of them," Arno said.</p> + +<p>"I have never known the German army to be so co-operative before," the +general observed.</p> + +<p>"We better be on our way," Stan said.</p> + +<p>They gathered up their things and headed into the woods with Tony +leading the way. After an hour of searching and much argument between +him and Arno they finally located a trail and followed it.</p> + +<p>Stan and Allison began to suspect the boys were lost, when suddenly they +came out on a knoll. Above them, silhouetted against the starlit sky, +were the two square-topped peaks.</p> + +<p>"See," Tony said to Arno. "Now you must admit I was right."</p> + +<p>"You were, I am sorry I argued."</p> + +<p>"It's twenty minutes to twelve," Allison said anxiously. "How far is it +to the wheat field?"</p> + +<p>"Just a ten-minute walk," Tony answered.</p> + +<p>"We'll hit it right on the minute," Stan said eagerly. "Lead on."</p> + +<p>Tony led them out of the woods and into the wheat field. They checked +the wind and got out their flares. Arno took one, Tony another, while +Allison took the red center marker.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Clear a space so as not to set the field of wheat on fire," Arno +warned. "I'll show you how far to go."</p> + +<p>Stan and the general went along, carrying the guns and grenades. They +were about in the center of the field when they heard the roar of a +plane motor. Stan listened and then grinned. The engine was a powerful +radial. He was certain O'Malley was at the throttle.</p> + +<p>The plane swooped around and around high above while the boys got spaces +cleared and everything set. Arno called to the others and the flares +blossomed out. Looking up into the sky they waited. The plane circled +and headed in. Suddenly a barrage broke loose from a hill a half mile +away. A German battery had heard the plane and had spotted the flares. +The gunners were shooting at the flares and by the dirt they were +lifting they seemed to be getting the range.</p> + +<p>"He'll be blown to bits when he lands!" Arno shouted.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to move back or get blasted ourselves," Allison called, +breaking into a run.</p> + +<p>Shells were exploding close to them, kicking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> dirt over them, and the +barrage was swinging toward them. Overhead the plane was coming in. It +roared over their heads a few feet above the barrage.</p> + +<p>"Overshot it!" Tony yelled. "Now he'll have to try again."</p> + +<p>"And the Germans are coming!" Stan yelled. "Get set with the machine +guns!"</p> + +<p>When a shell burst close to Allison, he stopped running. Suddenly he +shouted, "He's fooled them! He's set down at the far edge of the field!"</p> + +<p>Sure enough, the plane had landed almost at the edge of the woods. It +was swinging around. They all ducked and raced toward it. Stan got there +first and was greeted by O'Malley's voice from the plane.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you got out the band for a welcome!"</p> + +<p>"As soon as they spot the flare of your exhausts the welcome will get +hotter!" Stan shouted back.</p> + +<p>Loading up was only a matter of seconds, but the Germans on the hill and +those charging down into the field had the Mosquito located<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> and began +pounding the lower end of the field. O'Malley headed into the barrage +and hopped her off without getting a direct hit. They circled overhead +and then swung south. Stan was seated across from O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Have a nice trip?" O'Malley asked with a grin.</p> + +<p>"We did," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"I hear there'll be a flock o' tinware waitin' for you when you get in." +O'Malley continued to grin. "The boys are bettin' ten to one that you +all got shot. I'll be richer than Rockefeller when I get back." He +chuckled to himself.</p> + +<p>"Right now we could do with something to eat," Stan said as he leaned +back and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Benson has a banquet spread for you. Have Allison get on the +radio and tell him to put it on the table, and have him order me two +apple pies." O'Malley opened the Mosquito up another notch as he thought +of the pies.</p> + +<p>Stan clicked on the intercom and got Allison. He felt, at the moment, as +though he could stand a vacation, but glancing back he saw a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> great fire +raging with an intensity that lighted the sky for a hundred miles. The +Germans were destroying the historical city of Naples. There would be no +vacation.</p> + + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Yankee Flier in Italy, by +Rutherford G. Montgomery + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + +***** This file should be named 32288-h.htm or 32288-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/8/32288/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Montgomery + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Yankee Flier in Italy + +Author: Rutherford G. Montgomery + +Illustrator: Paul Laune + +Release Date: May 7, 2010 [EBook #32288] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + +[Illustration: "WE'LL TAKE OVER NOW," STAN SNAPPED. + +_A Yankee Flier in Italy_] + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + +BY + +AL AVERY + +_ILLUSTRATED BY_ + +PAUL LAUNE + +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK + + +COPYRIGHT, 1944, BY + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC. + +_All Rights Reserved_ + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + +[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence +that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +_For_ + +AVON KIRKS + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I FAREWELL PARTY 1 + +II SPECIAL TASK 13 + +III REUNION 23 + +IV BEACH-HEAD 38 + +V PRISON SHIP 52 + +VI FIRING SQUAD 75 + +VII REST CURE 90 + +VIII ESCAPE 98 + +IX HOMEWARD BOUND 110 + +X LONE EAGLE 127 + +XI RESCUE 140 + +XII SALERNO 162 + +XIII NIGHT RAID 184 + +XIV NIGHT FLIGHT 200 + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER + +IN ITALY + + + + +CHAPTER I + +FAREWELL PARTY + + +The party was about to break up. It had not been very successful. +Lieutenant O'Malley had devoured only one blueberry pie. This meant he +was feeling far from par. He sat sprawled in a big chair that once had +belonged to a Moslem prince, his skinny legs elevated to the top of the +mess table. + +"Sure, an' you fellows are skunks, beatin' it off to do a soft stretch +in Alexandria," he growled. + +Lieutenant Stan Wilson, United States Army Air Corps, grinned at his +Irish pal. + +"They need brains in Alexandria to tell them what to do." Stan sipped +his coffee and continued to grin. + +March Allison leaned across the table. Allison was British, slight and +neatly dressed. There was always a mocking smile lurking at the corners +of his mouth. + +"I say, old fellow, you should be crowing. You are now a flight +commander and I understand you are to rate nothing less than a major." + +"'Tis not the stripes I want," O'Malley muttered. "Sure, an' I'm told +this Colonel Benson who is to be in command is a spalpeen of the worst +sort. Niver did I care fer brass hats an' now I am to be near one all +the time." + +"I understand Colonel Benson holds to a strict diet, no coffee, tobacco, +or pie," Stan said gravely. "He expects his men to follow his example." + +O'Malley snorted. "Sure, an' I'll be after eatin' pie right off the top +o' his desk." + +"He is said to be the best-dressed officer in the Army." Allison had his +gaze fixed upon O'Malley's sloppy uniform. The shirt was open at the +neck to allow O'Malley's huge Adam's apple to roll up and down, free and +unencumbered. O'Malley's cap was wrinkled and sagging as it attempted to +cover his shock of wild hair. + +"I'm a fightin' man," O'Malley said gravely. "As such I waste no time +on trifles." His big mouth was tightly clamped shut and a frown wrinkled +his homely face. + +Stan and Allison broke out laughing. Colonel Benson would have to take +O'Malley as he was, that they well knew. They had fought side by side +with him in the Battle of Britain, in the Far East, and now in Africa. +O'Malley was known as the wildest pilot in the service and one of the +best. + +"We better get going," Stan said as he rose to his feet. He held out a +hand to O'Malley. "Hold off the invasion of Sicily and Italy until we +get back, pal." + +"I'll be startin' it tomorrow," O'Malley said sourly. + +"Cheerio," Allison added as he shook hands with his pal. + +O'Malley watched them walk out of the mess. He had to admit, as the door +closed after them, that his gloom was due entirely to parting with the +two men he had fought beside for so long. Such things as colonels who +were tough did not bother O'Malley. Having Stan and Allison walk out on +him was the thing that hurt. It was his own fault that he was not going +with them. He had refused to quit the front for a month or so of ease +and rest. + +Gazing out through an open window, he watched a group of natives herd a +flock of donkeys down toward the main part of the city of Bizerte. He +certainly would kick himself if no invasion came off for a month. +Lowering his feet from the top of the table, he strolled out into the +sunshine. Colonel Benson was due to arrive that morning and he had +orders to be on hand, along with other flight commanders, to meet his +superior. O'Malley yawned. Meeting brass hats always bored him. He was +not sure that he was going to like being one of them. O'Malley +considered even a flight commander a brass hat. + +Colonel Benson was late in arriving. He was exactly three hours late and +that made O'Malley exactly two hours late for his dinner. Dinner was a +very important item in O'Malley's day, and he was in a very dour mood +when an orderly called the boys in to meet the new commander. + +The commander's room once had been a lounge and music room. It was part +of a huge old mansion located on an estate. An Italian political boss +had taken it over from a native prince. O'Malley crowded in behind the +first man entering the room. At once the man ahead of O'Malley clicked +his heels and snapped a smart salute. O'Malley looked the colonel over, +then dabbed at the front of his cap with a big hand. + +Colonel Benson was a big, rawboned man, standing six feet two inches and +weighing two hundred and ten pounds. His red face looked as though it +had just been scrubbed with soap and water. It had a pink and white +smoothness under the sunburn which reddened it. The eyes of the colonel +took away the softness of his smooth face. They were green and hard as +agate. At the moment they were looking Lieutenant O'Malley over with a +decidedly unfavorable glint. + +The other boys shoved in and lined up. There was no mistaking the +atmosphere in the room. It fairly vibrated with military correctness. +The colonel's uniform, his carefully parted hair, his smooth, freshly +scraped chin, all added to the feeling of tightness. + +Most of the boys in the room were used to dirt and dust and bearded +faces. They recently had come through a dusty, dirty, and bloody +battle. During those months on the desert they had forgotten all about +military correctness. The colonel's expression plainly indicated that he +thought them a sloppy outfit. He remained standing as he talked, and the +men remained at attention. + +"I have been sent here to teach you men some of the combat tricks +developed recently." His eyes roved over the men and stopped upon +O'Malley. + +"I am not going to insist upon strict military observance, but there are +a few details I will insist upon." The colonel's voice was rising and +his face was getting a bit redder. + +"You." He stabbed a finger toward O'Malley. + +"Lieutenant O'Malley," O'Malley informed him. + +"Lieutenant O'Malley, nothing can excuse the sloppiness of your attire. +In the future you will give more attention to your uniform." + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and grinned. + +The grin made Colonel Benson rise up on his heels. He came down with a +thud, but he said no more. His eyes moved from O'Malley. + +"We will soon be invading Italy." The Colonel paused to let this sink +in. It was exactly what the boys had been expecting, and therefore they +showed no sudden interest. + +"How about Sicily, sor?" O'Malley asked. He had been flying missions all +over the proposed routes and knew something would have to be done about +Sicily. + +"That will be merely a step in taking Italy, Lieutenant," the colonel +explained. He looked about the room. There were plenty of chairs. "You +may be at ease, gentlemen. Seat yourselves and we will proceed with our +conference." + +O'Malley grunted. Dinner hour was long past and here they were settling +down for a conference. He picked the chair nearest the door and slumped +down into it. The colonel seated himself and launched into a lengthy and +detailed talk upon tactics and plans. O'Malley listened for a time, then +stretched out his legs and made himself comfortable. His mind wandered +far from the droning voice of the colonel. + +An hour passed and Colonel Benson was still outlining plans and driving +home things he felt were very important. O'Malley had not exactly been +asleep, but he had failed to hear more than just a small part of what +was said. Suddenly he roused himself. Colonel Benson had just made a +remark that brought him up sharply. + +"Gentlemen, I will now outline the procedure we will follow in handling +the various flights assigned to my sector. This will not take longer +than one hour. Give me your close attention." + +O'Malley looked about as though seeking a way to escape. He saw an +orderly standing at the door. Nodding to the corporal, he leaned forward +and whispered a command. The orderly disappeared. + +Ten minutes later the corporal returned. He was carrying a tin plate +with half of a blueberry pie on it. + +"Thank you, son," O'Malley said as he slid the pie into his lap. He +scooped out a quarter of the pie and opened his mouth. As he bit down +upon the pie he began to grin. He gave his attention to the colonel with +the first real show of interest he had given during the afternoon. The +quarter of pie disappeared quickly. O'Malley slid the remaining quarter +into his hand and opened his mouth. + +"The close co-ordination between our fighter units and the low-level +bombers will be secured by a system of code signals." Colonel Benson's +voice snapped off suddenly. His green eyes were on O'Malley and sparks +flashed in their depths. The other boys turned and looked at O'Malley. + +"You are hungry, Lieutenant O'Malley?" Colonel Benson asked coldly. + +"Yes, sor. 'Tis three hours an' more past dinnertime," O'Malley answered +calmly as he shoved half of the pie into his mouth. + +"Stop! Stop--swilling that pie!" the colonel roared. + +O'Malley got rid of the pie in a simple manner. He shoved what was left +into his mouth and munched upon it. + +For a full minute the colonel could not think of anything to say. But +his face got deeper red and his eyes blazed. Finally he rapped on his +desk and said: + +"Gentlemen, I will not tolerate eating during a conference. Any sort of +eating. I will not tolerate eating pie while I am giving instructions. +Lieutenant O'Malley, you will retire. I will consider your case later." + +O'Malley got to his feet. He handed the pie plate to the embarrassed +corporal. "Thank you, sor," he drawled as he made off. + +The colonel snorted and went back to his lecture. O'Malley headed for +the mess hall. The half pie had whetted his appetite. Locating a +comfortable place near a window he ordered a big dinner, with a whole +blueberry pie for dessert. In a leisurely manner he began devouring his +meal. + +He had spent most of an hour enjoying his dinner and was ready to eat +his pie, when the fliers began drifting in from the conference. Several +of them headed toward O'Malley's table. O'Malley was the most famous +pilot in their outfit. The stories about him amounted almost to legend. +The boys admired his disregard for military usage. All of them had been +working according to the colonel's carefully explained plans for months +and knew them better than the colonel did. They had been bored by the +long session but had not had the nerve to show their feelings. + +But none of them reached O'Malley. Colonel Benson came in and strode +over to O'Malley's table. + +Nodding to O'Malley, he said, "Mind if I join you?" His voice did not +sound so stiff outside his office. + +"Sure, an' I'm glad to have you," O'Malley said, but there was a gleam +of suspicion in his eye. + +Colonel Benson seated himself. He watched O'Malley attack the pie. His +interest amounted to fascination and he did not speak until O'Malley had +finished three fourths of the pie. He ordered coffee and leaned back. + +"I have heard a great deal about you, Lieutenant," he began. + +O'Malley did not think this remark called for an answer, so he went on +eating his pie. + +"I know you are an excellent pilot, though I understand you are a bit +reckless." There was a gleam that might have been humor in the colonel's +eye. + +O'Malley leaned back. He pushed the pie plate away from him and uttered +a contented sigh. + +"However, I'm afraid you are not the type of man I want working beside +me. With your permission, I will find you another assignment." The +colonel watched O'Malley as he spoke. + +"What sort o' work?" O'Malley asked. + +"Flying a fighter plane, of course." Colonel Benson smiled. + +"'Twill suit me foine," O'Malley said. "I'm not likin' the idea o' bein' +a brass hat." + +"I don't think you would make a very good one," the colonel said. "There +will be no further mention of your pie-eating exhibition of this +afternoon. You will report to operations for your new assignment." + +"Thank you, sor." + +The colonel drank his coffee and arose. O'Malley got to his feet and +managed a snappy salute. The colonel moved off and the boys closed in to +find out what had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SPECIAL TASK + + +The sympathy of the boys in the officers' mess was wasted upon O'Malley. +He was not impressed by the advanced rating he had missed, nor was he +jealous of the new and shining bars and oak leaves his pals were +wearing. He had checked in and been assigned flight leader of a flight +of three planes whose task was special work. All that interested +O'Malley was that he was due to head out over the Mediterranean Sea with +the nose of his Lightning pointed toward Italy. + +"Sure, an' I'll have Benito captured by the time you birds go into +action," he told the gang. + +O'Malley's exact duties were not very clear, nor was his crew a reality. +No men had been assigned to him and he had no flight orders, but he had +the assurance of the captain at operations that he would be on his way +in a short time. If O'Malley had any suspicions as to the sort of work +Colonel Benson had laid out for him, he did not show them. He was in +exceptional good humor. + +When he was called in by Captain Marks at headquarters, he dashed to the +operations room as fast as he could. The captain smiled as O'Malley +sprawled into a chair. + +"I understand we are about to start an invasion of Italy," the captain +began. "The details are a military secret, but it's coming and right +away. There's some spade work to be done and you are to handle a hot +assignment." + +O'Malley's big mouth spread in an eager grin. + +"The commander has assigned you to this job because he feels you are +specially fitted for the work." The captain beamed, but there was a look +in his eye that made O'Malley sit up and wipe the grin off his face. + +"And what may it be?" he demanded. + +"You are to ferry Lightnings to Malta." The captain lifted a hand as +O'Malley came out of his chair like a cork out of a bottle of Algerian +wine. "This is dangerous business. You may have to fight your way +through. This will be day flying." + +O'Malley snorted. "Fight! Sure, an' ferryin' to Malta is no work for a +fighter pilot. 'Tis a job for these new colleens you got in the ferry +service." + +"Colonel's orders," the captain said curtly. "And the planes are to be +landed in Malta in fighting trim. As soon as I round up a couple of men +to work with you, I'll give you a call. Get set, because I'll need you +any hour now." + +O'Malley leaned forward and there was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Did you +say fight our way through?" he asked. + +"If necessary, but I understand you are a stunting fool. You shouldn't +have to fire a shot on any trip. The planes are not to be shot up. They +are for combat use in the invasion." + +O'Malley was on his feet. "Foine," he said sweetly. "'Tis a nice job, +sor, an' I'm appreciatin' it." + +The captain fixed him with a suspicious eye. This ferry job had been +tough to fill. It was vitally important and demanded experienced fighter +pilots, but none of the men wanted it. Captain Marks had not been able +to get a single man to accept the job. He was relieved when the colonel +had sent over word that O'Malley would serve as flight leader. But he +still had to locate two men to work with the Irishman. O'Malley was +taking the whole thing too nicely. Captain Marks was worried. He knew +O'Malley's reputation and he had picked up a few hints of how O'Malley +had been assigned to the job. + +"I'll give you the names of your crew as soon as I get them lined up," +the captain said gruffly. + +"Shanghaied you mean," O'Malley said in a honeyed tone. + +"The colonel will locate a couple for me," the captain answered with a +grin. + +O'Malley grinned back at him. "I know a couple I wish you could get hold +of," he said. He turned around and walked out of the office. + +For a full five minutes O'Malley stood outside the office looking out +toward the blue Mediterranean. There was a deep scowl on his face. +Finally he sauntered into the mess and seated himself near a window. +Elevating his feet, he closed his eyes and took a nap. + +He was awakened by an orderly. The soldier saluted smartly and said: + +"You are wanted at operations, sir." + +O'Malley got to his feet and walked into the briefing shack, which was +a shed hastily erected outside the mess. Captain Marks was waiting for +him. He shoved a sheaf of flight orders at O'Malley. + +"You are to deliver three Lightning fighters to Malta. In case you meet +enemy planes, you are to take proper evasive measures. Is that clear?" + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said and added, "If we be attacked we fight?" + +"Certainly, we don't want these new planes shot down." + +Glancing at his flight orders, O'Malley moved leisurely out to the +flight strip designated. Three Lightnings stood there with their props +spinning. A ground crew was just leaving them. O'Malley nodded toward +the chief mechanic who swung down out of the cockpit. + +"Is this bag o' bolts ready to fly?" he asked with a grin. + +"She's clicking fine, sir," the sergeant answered. + +O'Malley glanced at his orders. The two men under him were Ted Wilks and +Pete Liske. He wondered what they had done to call down the colonel's +displeasure. Swinging up into the greenhouse, he palmed the hatch cover +and got set. + +"Wilks and Liske," he called lazily. "This is your skipper, Mrs. +O'Malley's son. Get your crates hot." + +"Temperatures check," Liske called back. His voice sounded sour. + +"Which one of the Auld Man's corns did you step on, Liske?" O'Malley +asked. + +"Same one I did," Wilks called in. + +"Can the chatter and get going," snapped a voice from operations. +"Lieutenant O'Malley, report out at once," another voice cut in. + +"Up to five thousand and then tuck in close to me," O'Malley ordered. + +"Read your flight sheets!" The voice from operations was sharp and +snappy. + +O'Malley laughed. "Shove off, me hearties," he called. + +Wilks went zooming off and Liske followed closely. O'Malley watched +their take-off with a critical eye. He saw at once that he had been +given two fledglings to nurse safely through. Like an old hen, he was +expected to see them through by proper evasive tactics. O'Malley began +whistling a bit of an Irish tune. He'd protect those kids, just let any +Italian or German fighter show up. + +Kicking down on one brake, he spun the Lightning around and sent her +zooming off the field, hanging her on her prop at once, and surging over +the hatch covers of his charges like a crazy angel heading for the sun. +His boys dropped in behind him and soon had snuggled in, wing to wing, +one on each side. + +"So you birds were bad boys," O'Malley called across to his men. + +"So what? We hear you were supposed to be a major," Liske answered +insolently. + +"We didn't read the rule book careful," Wilks confessed with a laugh. + +"From now on you won't be after needin' a rule book," O'Malley assured +them. He was scanning the blue sky eagerly. A pile of clouds, off to the +east, looked promising. He swung over that way. If there was a Jerry in +the whole area, he'd be hiding up in that cloud. + +The three Lightnings zoomed low under the cloud but nothing happened. +The sky was as serene and calm as the sky over a Kansas wheat field or a +kirk in Kerry County, Ireland. O'Malley scowled and eased back against +the shock pad. + +They roared over Pantelleria Island which had been occupied by the +British and Yanks. Sicily lay ahead and O'Malley knew evasive tactics +called for a wide sweep to the east and south. He had already flown +miles north in his hopeful quest of trouble. Easing down to two thousand +feet, they swept around in a circle that carried them within sight of +the coast of Sicily. But there was no enemy craft in sight in the air +and very few on the water along the coast. With a sigh O'Malley +straightened their course and headed in to Malta. They had flown a half +circle deep into enemy territory but nothing exciting had happened. +O'Malley was beginning to worry. If all of their ferry flights were +going to be like this, he would have to do something about it. + +Picking up the radio signals from the Malta field, they slid in, spotted +the Yank landing strip, and set down. Ground crews rushed out to take +over. They swarmed around the Lightnings and had them moving off almost +before their pilots were out of the cockpits. O'Malley scowled. The +boys had no more respect for a ferry pilot than they did an M.P. + +O'Malley obtained his release and acceptance of the planes from a +captain who rode out in a motorcycle. The captain seemed irritated. + +"Your flight time is double what it should be. Get over to Number Three +Field and get your transportation back to Africa." + +"Yes, sor," O'Malley said. "We drifted a bit off course." + +The captain looked at him sharply. He was very busy and delays did not +improve his ragged temper. + +"Don't let it happen again," he snapped. + +O'Malley smiled at his two fliers. "Sure, an' 'tis very ungrateful some +people are. We risk our necks to deliver these crates an' get a sour +welcome." He turned and walked away. The captain stood staring after +him. He had not met a man like O'Malley before. Usually ferry pilots +were not given to back talk. + +The transport was waiting. O'Malley and his pals climbed in among an +assortment of equipment and supplies being returned to base. In a short +time they were back at their own briefing room. Three planes were ready +and they took off again. + +All day they ferried Lightnings across to Malta and not once did they +sight enemy craft. O'Malley was wild when they checked in for the +evening. He glared at the grinning Captain Marks. + +"Sure, an' something better bust loose tomorrow," he cried. + +"Probably will," Marks answered. + +O'Malley stomped away to quarters. Wilks and Liske dashed off to put in +for an immediate transfer to more active duty. O'Malley hoped they got +the transfer. He knew there was not much chance of him getting shifted, +not as long as Colonel Benson was in command. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +REUNION + + +Stan and Allison sat in the big Lockheed transport and looked down upon +the shores of Africa. A coastal road wound along the beach. It was +war-scarred and still littered with broken tanks and shattered trucks. +This was the route Rommel had taken in his flight across Libya. + +"Wonder what O'Malley's doing about this time?" Stan asked. He was +beginning to be sorry he had accepted the offer to return to Alexandria. +O'Malley likely was leading a flight over the shores of Italy. + +"I'll bet he is seeing action," Allison said. "But I'm satisfied to be +riding in peace with a pip of a vacation ahead. You're not beginning to +get the bug to fight so soon, old man?" + +"No," Stan answered with a grin. "I aim to have a swell time and be +ready for the big push into Europe." + +The trained ears of the two pilots caught a warning signal from one of +the plane's radial motors. The motor complained for a few minutes, then +coughed and conked out completely. + +"Looks like we might be due for a forced landing," Stan said. + +"That would be our luck," Allison answered. "Where are we, anyway?" + +"We must be near Bengazi." Stan peered down at the coast line. + +A few minutes later their fears were realized. The transport began +circling for a landing. They sighted the ruins of a town and were soon +over it. Ten minutes later they were standing on a sand dune along with +the pilot and copilot. A group of higher-ranking officers, including a +general, stood a little way from them. + +"We'll not be here very long," the pilot said, jerking his head toward +his other passengers. "Not with the big boy along. He's on an urgent +mission. We've already radioed for a pick-up plane." + +"He's hurrying in the wrong direction," Allison said. + +Stan walked away and down the slope a bit. One of the Navy's NATS +amphibian freight planes was down at the dock. Stan had learned to +respect the Navy Air Transport Service. Those boys flew freight and mail +from the United States to every part of the world where the Yanks were +fighting, and they flew it on schedule. This plane probably was headed +back to Tunis or Bizerte. + +He passed the high officers at some little distance. The wind was +blowing away from them and he caught the irritated voice of the general. + +"With this delay I'll have to go back. Action against Italy starts at +dawn tomorrow." The wind whipped away the general's words and Stan did +not hear any more, but what he had heard made him halt. + +Invasion. The boys were going in for the kill and he was heading for a +rest in Alexandria. Turning, he walked up the hill. Allison was chatting +with the pilot. Stan motioned to him and they strolled down the slope. +When they were out of hearing of the crew, Stan said: + +"I just overheard something." + +Allison gave him a quick look. "Been eavesdropping?" + +"An ill wind brought me a word from that general. We're hitting it back +to Bizerte." + +"I say, old chap, you know I'm going where I can have two hot baths a +day. I'll have a barber shave me and I'll have breakfast served in bed. +You run along back to Bizerte, but I'm going on to Alexandria." + +"The attack on Italy is set for tomorrow morning. The general is going +back and I'm going with him. O'Malley isn't going to hog this show." + +Allison halted and stared at Stan. Suddenly his twisted smile pulled at +the corners of his mouth. "If you put it that way, I guess I'm going +back to Bizerte, too." + +"The general has radioed for a plane to take him back. This delay has +upset his schedule and he won't go on. We'll go back with him. Let's +collar the old boy." + +"We are under orders to report to Alexandria," Allison reminded him. + +"The general doesn't know what our orders are. We can worry about little +things like that after we get back," Stan said impatiently. + +They walked across the slope to where the general was standing. There +were four officers with him, three colonels and a major. + +"Could we have a word with you, sir?" Stan asked as he snapped a +salute. + +"Certainly," General Miller said. + +"We have decided to return to Bizerte and wondered if you could say a +word for us if a westbound plane stops here. This delay will upset our +plans and we might as well go back." + +The general looked at Stan sharply. "What made you change your plans, +besides this accident?" + +Stan grinned. He did not dare admit that he had overheard the general +talking. + +"The farther we get from the base of action, the more jittery we get," +he replied. + +"You fellows have to be ordered to take leave," General Miller said and +smiled. "Do your orders allow you such freedom of action?" + +"We feel that they do," Stan said. + +"I'm sorry I can't take you. I'm afraid I'd be called to account for +helping you disobey orders." The general's smile had spread into a grin. +"You will go on as you should." + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. They both saluted and walked away. + +"Guess we're sunk," Allison said sourly. "O'Malley will certainly rub it +in when he sees us again. He'll be right in the middle of the big +fight." + +Stan was looking at the NATS amphibian and smiling. "We might be able to +thumb a ride with the Navy." + +Allison looked down toward the sea. The Navy boys were getting the big +freighter set to take off. + +"Worth a try, let's go down there." + +They hurried down to the beach. An ensign was handling the shifting of +supplies from the flying boat to a truck. He greeted Stan and Allison in +a friendly manner after glancing at their service stripes. + +"You boys are a bit off your reservation, aren't you?" he asked. + +"We sure are and we want to get back. How about a ride to Bizerte?" + +"We're not hauling passengers, but if you piled in nobody would throw +you off. We're supposed to cooperate with the Army in every way we can." +The ensign laughed. + +"Great stuff," Allison said. "I'm March Allison and he's Stan Wilson." + +"I'm Bert Thomas," the ensign said. "If you have bags you better get +them aboard. We're about to shove off." + +"We're not taking any bags back," Stan said hurriedly. He did not want +to risk having the general order them to go on into Alexandria. In fact, +he did not want the general to know they were going out with the +amphibian. + +"O.K. Just get aboard and find a place to sit down." + +Stan and Allison climbed aboard the freighter. The crew paid no +attention to them but went on lashing cargo into place, cramming all +sorts of odd repair parts into every corner. + +Ensign Thomas came aboard and took his place beside his copilot. Stan +and Allison sat on the only two vacant seats along the arching ribs of +the ship. They were careful not to take the space reserved for the crew. + +The freighter slid out into the bay and soon she was slapping the step +of the lazy waves. A few seconds later she lifted and was off, rising +slowly, roaring along like a gorged pelican. She did not have a machine +gun or a cannon aboard and she was going it alone. The two fighter +pilots, used to a bank of Brownings in front of them, felt uneasy. If a +Heinkel or an Me 110 showed up, the old girl would be a dead duck. + +No enemy planes showed up, however, and the freighter bored along. +Ahead of them the sun was settling down into the sea, filling the air +with golden haze and making the water glow like sapphire. Just at sunset +the freighter swung inshore and eased down over the harbor at Bizerte. +Two fighter planes from a carrier lying offshore zoomed around her as +she came in. She hit the water and glided in to a mooring. + +"Passengers ashore!" Bert Thomas called back. + +As they piled out Stan and Allison saluted the skipper. "Thanks a +million," Stan said. + +"Right fine of you, old man," Allison chimed in. + +"Glad to give you a hand," Thomas said as he turned to the job of +unloading. + +Stan and Allison shoved through the crowds along the docks. They were +eager to get in touch with Colonel Benson and get back on the job. +Everywhere they could see signs of the coming invasion attempt. +Thousands of ships and barges and warcraft lay in the harbor or +offshore. Men swarmed everywhere, while tanks and trucks and mobile guns +rattled down to the water front. + +The boys caught a ride with an air force truck headed toward their +field. The truck took them to within a few blocks of headquarters. When +they hopped out, Stan said: + +"Here goes nothing. Wonder what the Old Man will say?" + +"We'll be lucky to be able to see him at all. He'll be very busy," +Allison drawled. + +Reaching headquarters they spoke to an orderly. The soldier regarded +them closely. + +"Yes, Colonel Benson is in his office." + +"Tell him Lieutenants Wilson and Allison wish to see him." Stan gave the +soldier a look that made him snap to attention. + +"I'll report, sir," he said and made off. + +"He acted as though we were not welcome," Allison remarked. + +"The Old Man probably told him to shoo all pilots away," Stan said. "Now +we better make our story good." + +The orderly returned and nodded toward the fliers. "Colonel Benson will +see you, sir," he said to Stan. + +They moved into the room and found Colonel Benson sitting behind his +desk. He had a pot of coffee, a bowl of soup, and a plate of sandwiches +before him. His green eyes lifted and swept over the two officers. They +saluted and Stan said: + +"Lieutenants Wilson and Allison reporting for duty, sir." + +The colonel dipped up a spoon of soup and ate it. He selected a +sandwich, lifted the lid and looked at the filling, then took a bite. + +"I believe you gentlemen are under orders to report to Alexandria. I +take it you have made some changes on your own account." The colonel +paused and waited for a reply. His face was expressionless, but his eyes +bored into Stan and Allison. + +"We hoped you would allow us to join Lieutenant O'Malley's command. We +got the idea there might be action on this front soon." Stan stood very +straight and looked the colonel in the eye. + +"What gave you the idea there would be action?" the colonel asked. + +"We got it quite by accident," Stan answered. + +"I see. So you canceled the orders of the area commander and returned. +Who brought you back?" + +"The Navy, sir." Allison smiled as he said it. + +The colonel grunted. He finished his sandwich and helped himself to more +soup. Finally he spoke. + +"There will be action very soon and we do need pilots," he said blandly. +His eyes dropped to a pad of reports. They were urgent requests from +Wilks and Liske asking to be transferred from O'Malley's ferry flight. +"I have two places I find very difficult to fill, and they happen to be +in Commander O'Malley's flight. I'll assign you men to those places." +His eyes lifted and there was a glint of hardness in them. "For the +duration of the present action," he added grimly. + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "We will not take up more of your time." + +"One more thing," the colonel said. "I will cancel your leave to +Alexandria. But your new assignment will not free you from any measures +I decide to take later as punishment for your breach of orders. Is that +clear?" + +"Yes, sir," both officers answered. They saluted and about-faced. + +Outside the door Stan turned to Allison. "The Old Boy isn't such a tough +cookie after all." + +"Don't be so sure about that. You know I had a hunch he was spoofing us +all the time." Allison scowled. "I'm sure he was." + +"You smelled a mouse?" Stan grinned. + +"I smelled a very dead one," Allison answered. "Let's locate O'Malley. +He should be over in the quarters reserved for flight commanders." + +They barged into the quarters of the flight officers and looked around. +O'Malley was not present but several men sat at a table playing chess. +They moved over and stood beside the table. + +"We're looking for Commander O'Malley," Stan said. + +One of the boys looked up. He was wearing new and shiny insignia of a +major. He grinned up at Stan and Allison, his eyes taking in their +service stripes. + +"I guess you mean Flight Leader O'Malley," he said. "You should be able +to find him over at Mess Three." + +"So, he's already gotten himself shifted to flight leader," Stan said, +matching the major's grin. "How'd he manage it?" + +"By eating a pie while Colonel Benson was delivering a lecture on how to +capture Italy," the major chuckled. + +"So he's back on the firing line. I say, that's just where he wanted to +be," Allison said. + +"No, he didn't rate that well," the major explained. "The Old Man +chucked him into a job of ferrying planes to Malta so we'd have some +reserves in close to Sicily. Less than an hour ago O'Malley told me it +was a quiet and peaceful job, but one he didn't like." + +Stan looked at Allison. "You were right, there was a mouse, a big, dead +one." He nodded to the major. "Thanks, Major," he said. + +They turned away and walked out of the room. Allison laid a hand on +Stan's arm as they turned toward the door of Mess Three. + +"Suppose we surprise O'Malley," he suggested. + +"He'll be in no mood for surprises," Stan answered. "He'll be a wild +man. With the whole Army and Navy getting set to force a beach-head and +him on ferry duty, he'll be red-hot." + +"We are to fill in on his flight. We might work it so that he wouldn't +know until we take off. We could be a bit late in showing up." There was +a twinkle in Allison's eyes. + +Stan began to grin. "I like the idea," he said. "We're stuck the same as +he is and might as well cheer him up." + +They went to the operations room and located Captain Marks who regarded +them with unbelieving eyes. + +"You mean to say you gave up a vacation trip to Alexandria to take this +ferry job with that wild Irishman, O'Malley?" + +"Sure," Stan said with a grin. "We like ferrying. It's the sort of life +for any ambitious officer." + +Captain Marks regarded them intently. "I have your assignments here, but +I haven't seen anything of O'Malley." + +"Suppose you shove them at him the last thing before the flight takes +off. We'd like to surprise him, having been a pal of his for a long +time." + +The captain grinned. "It will be a surprise," he said. "I know about you +three and I'm looking for trouble. O'Malley never looks at assignment +or flight orders. And there will be only the three of you." His grin +faded and he scowled at the two pilots. "We'll only lose three ships and +I guess we can afford that." + +"Thanks, Captain," Stan said. "Mum's the word. We'll see you before dawn +tomorrow morning." + +They moved out and did not go to Mess Three. They headed out to locate a +spot where they could hide out until flight time. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +BEACH-HEAD + + +O'Malley grabbed his flight orders. He scowled at Captain Marks. For +once the captain did not insist that he read his orders. O'Malley turned +upon his heel and strode out of the briefing room. He was met in the +darkness outside the office by an officer. + +"You will fly a course over Tunis and approach Malta from due south, +Lieutenant. Colonel Benson's orders. You are to make as many flights as +possible today. There will be heavy action in the straits and you are to +avoid that area." The officer saluted and moved on into the briefing +room. + +"Sure, an' I'll do me own settin' o' the course," O'Malley bellowed. + +He was met at his plane by his master mechanic. "You have two new men +today, sir. I have given them a few details of your course." + +"An' I'll be givin' them some more," O'Malley growled as he climbed +into the cockpit. + +He settled down and listened for a few minutes to the excited orders +jamming the air. Flights were heading out, bomber squadrons were calling +in or taking orders. O'Malley set his phones on the beam and bent +forward. + +"Get ready, you birds of Ferry Flight," he called in. + +"All set," came back a reply in muffled tones. + +O'Malley wondered who the unlucky fliers were. Some poor saps who had +gotten in bad with Benson, he guessed. He bent down and shouted to the +sergeant. + +"How much ammunition have we?" + +"From now on the ferry ships will be fully loaded. You may run into +trouble, sir." + +O'Malley pulled in his head and kicked on the power. He snapped a +release to his mates and waited for them to get off. He had not taken +the trouble to get their names, so he could not order them off one at a +time. They did not seem to need any instruction. One Lightning wheeled +around and roared away, followed closely by the other. O'Malley grunted +his approval. The two relief men could fly. + +Opening up his engines, O'Malley roared after his flight. He tried to +cut across above them but had all he could do to catch up with them. In +the gray dawn he saw that the two new men understood how to get speed +out of a Lockheed P-38. Finally his two men eased over and let him slide +in between them. They closed in, snuggling dangerously close. + +"I'd thank ye for a bit more air," O'Malley growled. + +"Are we crowding you, Commander?" a high-pitched voice asked. + +"'Tis not crowdin' me, but I don't trust yer flyin' ability," O'Malley +shot back. + +"You're a bit off course," an unusually gruff voice broke in. + +"Sure, an' I'm flyin' this outfit," O'Malley snapped. + +They were swinging east by north, which headed them for Sicily. O'Malley +scanned the skies as light began to break. Below him the strait was +alive with barges and transports. A British monitor wallowed on its way, +rolling and plunging. Flight after flight of medium bombers fanned out +at low level. High above, the fighter patrols were roaring toward +Sicily. O'Malley scowled as he scanned the scene hopefully. Not a +German or an Italian plane in sight. It appeared that the best O'Malley +would get for setting his own course was a good view of the invasion +fleet and the opening wedge of the air forces. + +Suddenly the shores of Sicily appeared below, and almost at once +O'Malley was jerked out of his sour mood by a shout from one of his +pilots. + +"Me 110's coming down at four o'clock!" + +"Protect yerselves!" O'Malley shouted eagerly. "Run fer it!" + +"Shall we follow your example?" came in a mocking voice. + +O'Malley started and his mouth popped open. He knew that voice! Then in +came the voice of his other pilot. + +"We'll do as you do, Commander. Lead on!" + +"You spalpeens!" O'Malley bellowed. Then he broke out in a loud laugh. +"Sure, an' the Auld Man made monkeys out of you two." + +There was no more time for happy reunion. Seven Messerschmitts were +coming down after the bombers. They were not interested in the three +Lightnings and hoped that the Yanks flying them had not noticed any +Jerries near by. In this they were very much disappointed. + +Stan peeled off and banked steeply. Laying over he rolled into position +and cut out an Me. As the Jerry flashed past his sights, he opened up +and his Brownings sawed a wing off the fighter. He was over and the +Jerry was gone before he was able to see what had happened to the enemy +ship. As he came up he saw that O'Malley was celebrating. He was doing +mad loops and dives that threatened to drive the six Me's out of the sky +before Allison could tangle with one of them. Allison's voice came in, +crisp and exasperated. + +"I say, you Irisher. Lay off and let me have a chance!" + +"Come on in!" O'Malley yelled back and he stalled and dived after an Me. + +The three ferry pilots were finishing off the Jerries when a flight of +six Lightnings and three Airacobras slid down from upstairs and joined +in. There was only one luckless Me left. Three had been shot down and +two had fled. The outnumbered Jerry dived and headed for home. + +Allison and Stan closed in beside O'Malley. Their leader called over to +them. + +"There's a big fight on down there on that beach. Looks like the boys +needed some help to keep the Stukas away." + +"We're under your orders, Commander," Stan answered. + +"Sure, an' you birds stand trial right alongside o' me when we get +back," O'Malley shouted back. He dived and his pals went with him. + +Down they went over the invasion beach-head where sky battles raged as +German and Italian fighter bombers tried to strafe or bomb Yank and +British landing craft. + +Stan leaned over and looked down. The scene below was a stirring one. +Three battlewagons of the cruiser class lay offshore. In closer, a line +of destroyers was blazing fire and smoke as they blasted the shore +batteries of the enemy. A group of torpedo boats darted in and out, +tormenting an enemy ship. Toward the shore and moving from four big +transports came the landing barges: the personnel barges, the tank +carriers, the mechanized armament barges. In swarms they were pouring +toward the shore. In the air above, Yank and R.A.F. fighter pilots +struggled to keep the dive bombers and the torpedo planes from getting +at the ships. This was the zero hour for the boys in the barges. Either +they established a beach-head or they failed at terrible cost. + +Stan forgot that he was supposed to be a ferry pilot. He spotted a Stuka +slipping in behind a screen of smoke rising from a burning freighter. +Nosing down, he went after the Stuka. He caught a flash of O'Malley and +Allison going in, too. They were needed, there was no doubt about that. +The German planes were getting through. + +Coming down on the bandit, Stan eased over a bit and flattened out to +come in on the bomber's tail. The Stuka was sloping down toward one of +the transport ships. Stan kicked his throttle on full and raised his +nose until he had the bandit in his sights. His thumb pressed the gun +button and he felt the terrific kick-back from his bank of guns. He saw +the tail and a large part of the rear compartment of the Stuka wobble +and then sheer away. Whirling crazily, smoke billowing up from its torn +body, the Stuka went down, landing with a splash close alongside the +transport. Stan went over the deck of the ship so low, he could see the +grateful Navy boys waving at him. + +Swinging inshore, Stan knifed after a Focke-Wulf 190 which was strafing +the barges. He sent the 190 kiting along the tops of the waves and away +inland. Stan was hot on the tail of the Focke-Wulf. He was sure he would +get in a burst, when suddenly a burst of flak from a ground battery +enveloped him. He felt the steel ripping through his wings. One motor +began to stutter badly. It was then that Stan remembered he was supposed +to deliver his plane to Malta in good condition. + +Easing around, he climbed upward at a slow rate. He was looking for +O'Malley and Allison. He spotted O'Malley by the crazy manner of his +attack against an Me 110 which had closed in upon him. Stan grinned in +spite of the seriousness of their predicament. Half the tail had been +shot off O'Malley's Lightning. She was not handling very well. The Me +had a big edge. Stan went up as fast as his one crippled motor would +take him. + +The Me pitted against O'Malley had the Irishman in a spot. He had +doubled inside O'Malley's loop and was now on his tail. Stan tried hard +to power dive but got only feeble results. He waited grimly, expecting +O'Malley to go down under a hail of Nazi lead. But O'Malley did not go +down. Another Lightning came roaring down and cut the Me almost in half. +Allison had been looking for O'Malley, too. + +"How about hitting it for Malta, Commander?" Stan called. + +"I say, old man, we better be getting out of here. The boys have +everything under control in this sector," Allison added. + +"Sure, an' we're headed for home, tuck in close an' follow me," O'Malley +called cheerfully. + +"We better cook up a good report," Stan said grimly. + +"Sure, an' we got waylaid. 'Tis something could happen to anyone flying +ferry planes," O'Malley answered. "Wasn't that the way it happened?" + +"That is a bit of the truth, you know," Allison agreed. + +"I don't know how I'll explain the flak holes I picked up. No Jerry or +Italian plane ever carried five-inch guns," Stan answered. + +"We met a enemy battleship," O'Malley said, unconcerned. + +Stan snorted. "The Italian Navy hasn't poked its nose out of a home +base in over a year. We were supposed to be flying in close to Allied +shores." + +"Sure, an' you're right," O'Malley answered cheerfully. "But I'll be +thinkin' o' something, niver fear." + +Stan looked down and then up. They had plunged into very soupy weather +with low clouds and some wind. His ship was not taking it very well. +Then it began to rain. + +"You better be thinking of getting us in, one of my engines is about to +conk out on me," he called across. + +"I'm doing foine," O'Malley said. "Hear them signals coming in? That's +the boys on Malta giving us the old signal. We'll ride right in." + +They changed course, heading north. Stan began to frown. It did not seem +right to be heading in that direction. Suddenly they sighted a field +through the rain. O'Malley dived for the field and Stan followed with +Allison close behind. They hit the runway in a drenching rain and rolled +in wing to wing. + +Suddenly they were confronted by four trucks. The trucks rolled out and +halted across their paths, pulling in close before them so that the +Lightnings could not turn around. Stan stared at the trucks. They +certainly were not Yank or British. Then he saw squads of grinning +Italian soldiers poking machine guns over the sides of the trucks. +Ground men began swarming out. Everyone was smiling. + +"You sure let them call you in," Stan shouted to O'Malley. + +"'Twas a dirty trick, them using our signals to call us in here," +O'Malley fumed. + +"Malta is just across the strait, I'll bet," Allison said. "I've heard +that the Italians use this trick, but I never thought they'd fool the +Irish." There was a mocking note in Allison's voice. "We may as well +climb down like good little boys. They have us covered with a hundred +machine guns." + +"I'm getting out very carefully," Stan said. O'Malley said nothing at +all, but he climbed out and joined Stan and Allison. + +A group of Italian officers crowded around them. All were smiling and +bowing as though welcoming the Yanks. O'Malley scowled at them, but Stan +grinned back and Allison lifted a hand. + +One of the Italian officers stepped forward. He spoke good English. + +"You are prisoners of war, gentlemen. Come with us." He waved a hand +toward the dim outline of a building. + +The three Yanks were willing to move in out of the rain. They were +drenched to the skin. Before they had reached the place where they were +to be questioned the rain had ceased falling, and the sun had burst +through the clouds. O'Malley was completely disgusted. + +"Sure, an' I calls that a dirty trick. The weather is against us as well +as iverything else." + +"Please be seated," the Italian officer said as they entered a large +room. + +The three Yanks sat down and waited gloomily. Three high-ranking Italian +officers entered. They spoke swiftly in their native tongue to the +officer who had escorted the boys to the room. Their words were excited +and they made many motions with their hands. O'Malley stared at them +sourly. Finally the junior officer turned to the boys. + +"General Bolero wishes to ask you some questions." + +The general smiled as he put the questions. "We wish to know how many +planes and how many ships you are using. Also we wish to know at what +places your forces plan to land." + +Stan spoke up. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide. + +"No one can answer those questions but our high command. We are only +ferry pilots as you will see if you examine the flight orders of our +leader." He nodded toward O'Malley. + +The general turned and spoke quickly to the other officers in Italian. +They looked at O'Malley and talked some more, then the general turned to +O'Malley. Before he could speak, O'Malley cut in: + +"What I want to know is who's responsible for the trick that was pulled +on us?" + +The general smiled and his medal-covered chest expanded at O'Malley's +question. + +"I am honored that you appreciate my clever trick," he said affably. + +O'Malley scowled at the general. "'Tis a foul trick," he said. "I have +been insulted an' I'll get even with you." + +Stan broke in to avoid O'Malley's getting into real action against the +general. + +"What are you going to do with us?" + +"You will be flown to one of our prison camps on the mainland. You will +be treated strictly according to International Law," the general +answered. + +"How soon?" Stan asked. He was thinking the paratroopers might take over +this airfield very soon. He knew they would be hitting the coastal +fields in order to give the boys spots to work from that were closer to +Italy than the African coast. + +"At once, at once," the general said and he seemed suddenly nervous. + +"We are in no hurry, old man," Allison said and grinned. + +"Ah, but we are in a very great hurry," put in the junior officer. +"General Bolero is leaving at once. You will be flown out in, say, +twenty minutes. I am so sorry there will be no time for dry clothes." He +bowed and nodded to four soldiers armed with rifles who had appeared +through a side door. "You will go with the guards." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +PRISON SHIP + + +The three Yanks were rushed out upon the parade ground at the Italian +base. Two squads of shouting Italian soldiers escorted them. They burst +upon a scene of confusion and excitement. Stan looked across the grounds +toward the runways. Suddenly he burst out laughing and poked Allison in +the ribs. + +"Look! His Nibs is deserting us!" + +General Bolero was leading his staff toward a parked plane. For a big +fat man he was making fast time. His cape floated out behind him and he +had lost his jaunty cap. His officers were loaded down with brief cases, +files, and bundles of papers. The general was a full ten paces ahead of +them. + +"I'd call that a rout," Allison shouted. + +"I think our outfits must be closing in. We'll have to do some +stalling," Stan shouted. + +O'Malley was already stalling. Four men were pushing him along, and he +was beginning to show signs of temper. Stan tried to get close enough +to shout a warning to him. He did not want O'Malley to start a riot at +that moment. + +The Italians were evacuating the base in every sort of machine they had. +Cars roared across the field, men pedaled by on bicycles, trucks +lumbered past, and a whippet tank snorted as it rolled past dragging a +field gun. Men on foot rushed in every direction. + +Stan stumbled and went down, managing to trip two soldiers. Instantly a +dozen Italians were upon him, tugging at him, waving their rifles and +shouting. O'Malley took this as a signal to go into action. He swung +hard on the chin of an officer standing beside him. The surprised +officer went down like a felled beef. With a yell O'Malley waded in, +swinging at soldiers as they piled in on him. Many bloody noses and +black eyes developed in a hurry, but O'Malley was swarmed under by the +weight of sheer numbers. He went down yelling like a Comanche Indian and +swinging like Joe Louis. + +Stan struggled to his feet and held up his hands. He realized the +uselessness of fighting against such odds. The melee O'Malley had caused +had drawn almost a company of Italians to the spot. Allison had managed +to stay on his feet, but he had suffered from rough handling along with +Stan and O'Malley. His uniform, which was wet and sagging, had been torn +in a dozen places. + +"Go quietly!" an Italian officer bellowed. He had just arrived on the +scene. "Go quietly or you will be sorry!" + +"We're going, call off your dogs!" Stan shouted. + +The officer shouted orders in Italian and soon restored a semblance of +order. Allison called across to Stan. + +"Have a look above, and you'll see what all the excitement is about." + +Stan looked into the sky and caught his breath. The paratroopers were +coming. Low over the hilly country a fleet of transports and gliders +swept in from the sea. They swept along in perfect formation like giant +birds seeking a tree to light upon. Above them fighter planes wove in +and out, while on either side fighter-bombers roared along. It was a +beautiful sight. + +Suddenly the Yank air soldiers began to pile out. The sky blossomed with +colored parachutes until the blue was thickly dotted with them like a +field crowded with spring flowers. They came floating down with machine +guns and supply hassocks dangling from their chutes. On a slope above +the field a glider nosed in. It slid to a halt and a jeep bounded out of +its fat, rounded snout. Another glider slid in and a tank rolled out of +it almost before it had slid to a halt. The slope above them was already +swarming with Yanks, and machine guns were rattling. + +Stan looked around desperately. They were being rushed toward a big +truck. He made one last attempt to slow down their retreat. Shaking off +the men who held him, he ducked his head and hit the line of soldiers +like a blocking back clearing a path for a ball carrier. Two Italians +went down, one under a straight, stiff arm and the other from a solid +body-block. Then a soldier clipped Stan across the head with the butt of +his rifle. Stan went down on his face and lay still. + +O'Malley had started his fight again, but this time the Italians were +not wasting precious minutes. O'Malley got a rap such as the one that +had felled Stan. Allison went down under a pile of soldiers. Two +minutes later the three Yanks, out cold, were dumped into the truck and +it was rumbling away along a paved road. + +A few minutes later Stan groaned and opened his eyes. The truck was so +packed with soldiers that he was forced to sit up, even though he had +been out limp and cold. His head throbbed and felt twice its normal +size. Turning it a little he could look out over the side of the truck. +They were rolling along a winding road, climbing in low gear. Looking +back Stan saw the battlefield they had just left. + +The Yank airborne troops had swarmed onto the airfield. Already two big +Yank planes had landed and men were spilling out to take over the field. +With a groan Stan looked up. Twisting his head caused pains to shoot up +and down his neck. He saw that the paratroopers were still coming in. A +field of white chutes filled the air, while behind them dropped the +varicolored chutes carrying equipment and ammunition. Gliders were +casting off their toggle hooks and swooping earthward. Equipped with +tommy-guns, folding rifles, mortars, folding bicycles, bazookas and +light artillery, the air soldiers swarmed down. + +Suddenly excited shouts from the Italians in the truck made Stan look up +again. A fighter-bomber was roaring down toward the truck. Stan saw that +there were three trucks in the group and that they were closely bunched, +an ideal target for the diving Yank. Grimly he watched the hundred-pound +egg slide free as the bomber lifted and zoomed upward. The deadly +missile seemed to hang in the air for a moment, though it grew bigger +and bigger every second. It appeared to be aimed straight at the last +truck in line, which was their transport. Stan looked about for Allison +and O'Malley. + +His pals were standing against the side of the truck, wedged in by +soldiers. They both looked weak and shaken. O'Malley was almost without +clothes. Then the bomb hit. It landed in a bank just behind the truck. A +great upheaval of earth and rocks lifted into the air and showered over +the truck. One rear tire exploded with a bang and the truck began to +wobble and jolt as it swayed along. + +Then they broke over the top of the ridge and went careening down a +steep slope. Five minutes later they had reached cover in an avenue of +trees. But the Italians did not halt for repairs. They wanted to put as +many miles as possible between them and the Yank air army before their +gas ran out. + +An hour later the truck limped into another airfield which had not been +attacked. It was tucked away in a circle of hills with wooded slopes +reaching down to a little valley. Here they found they had overtaken +General Bolero. He was out on the field rushing about, shouting orders +and apparently getting ready to take off again. His staff was trailing +him about, with their bundles and brief cases and files. + +Stan and his pals were rushed into a small barracks room. The junior +officer who spoke English had charge of them, backed by a dozen guards. + +"We will supply you with clothing," he said, casting his eye over their +ragged uniforms. + +The clothing turned out to be blue shirts and bright green dungaree +overalls. O'Malley glared at the officer. Stan grinned as he slipped +into his outfit. + +"It would save you a lot of trouble if you just turned us loose," he +suggested. + +"You will not escape. You will be sent to Italy." The officer matched +O'Malley's glare. "Sicily can never be taken. Our infallible leader +Mussolini has said Sicily can never be taken." He waved his hands +excitedly. "Your forces will be driven into the sea." + +"I'll bet you a bottle of your finest wine that half of the island is +already taken," Stan answered. + +"I say, why don't you kick the Germans out and help us along?" Allison +asked. He felt he might touch a sore spot in mentioning the Germans. + +The shot hit home. A flush spread over the face of the officer. "The +Nazi dogs," he snapped. "We will deal with them after we have used them +to help us." + +"Sure, an' they'll treat you like they did the Poles," O'Malley said. +"An' it will serve you right well, you spalpeens." + +"We'd like to stop over here and rest a bit," Stan cut in. "We realize +you treated us roughly because we made you a lot of trouble. We'll give +you our parole. There'll be no more rough stuff." + +"You talkin' fer me?" O'Malley growled. + +"I am," Stan said and gave O'Malley a hard look. "We'll see that you're +a nice, well-behaved boy." + +"Agreed," Allison said, catching Stan's idea that he was playing for +time. Even if they gave their parole it would not prevent their being +captured by the Yanks. + +The officer smiled knowingly. "You would like to stay here. You think +your air troops will take over this field. No, we will not be so +foolish. You leave for Italy in one hour." He turned and marched out, +after giving orders to the guards. + +"That's that," Stan said. "But we still have a chance. He didn't accept +our parole." + +"They ought to be usin' their men to fight an' not be after keepin' a +whole company here as guards," O'Malley grumbled. + +"After the show you put on, they need a company," Stan snapped. "If we'd +been good boys, they might have left us with a couple of guards." + +"Who started the fuss?" O'Malley demanded. + +"I stumbled, but that was just to slow down the procession," Stan +answered. "I'll admit it was a mistake." + +"We'd better be doing some heavy thinking," Allison warned. "If we don't +we'll spend the rest of this campaign in a prison camp." + +There was no time for thinking and very little chance to talk. The Yanks +were hustled out to the runways and loaded into a shaky and battered +Fiat 20, two-engine bomber. They were escorted by the two squads of +guards who stood around with rifles at ready until the plane started +down the runway. + +Stan was squeezed in between O'Malley and Allison. The space inside the +bomber was very limited, for it was not intended as a passenger plane. +Besides the pilot and copilot, two men armed with pistols sat in the +cramped quarters. The Italians had very thoughtfully provided their +prisoners with parachutes. One of the guards spoke English and was not +unwilling to talk. Stan singled him out at once. + +"I have been in America," the guard said in a friendly fashion. + +"What city?" Stan asked. + +"New York. I stay one year." + +"Didn't you like it?" Stan asked with a grin. + +"Sure, it was much good. I come back for my brother and then there is +war. I must stay." The soldier shook his head sadly. + +"After the war you'll be going back?" Stan asked. + +"Sure. It is a fine place to live, New York. I make plenty money, got +friends." The soldier smiled. "I will see you then." + +Stan laughed. "You sure will." His eyes were on the back of the pilot's +neck. If O'Malley reached out he could touch the man flying the plane. +Stan bent forward, at the same time signaling O'Malley with his knee in +short and long taps. O'Malley finally woke up and answered the Morse +SOS. As Stan talked to the soldier he also telegraphed to O'Malley and +later to Allison. + +What Stan suggested was that they get control of the two pistols. The +friendly soldier was bending closer. Stan would offer to show him some +pictures from America that he had in his wallet. He would get the man +off guard and when he had a chance would grab his pistol and push him +over into the cramped back part of the ship. O'Malley and Allison would +have to get the other pistol. + +"I think I have some pictures you may recognize," Stan said. He fished +out a wallet which the Italians had not taken from him. Opening it he +pulled out several snapshots of planes he had piloted at one time or +another, but he held them so that the soldier had to bend forward. The +guard leaned over almost against Stan. + +Like a flash Stan's hand shot out and he had the pistol. He lunged +forward at the same instant, planting his head in the guard's chest. The +soldier went over his stool and landed in a cramped position in the +narrow waist of the plane. + +O'Malley had leaped the instant Stan's hand shot out. Allison did a good +imitation of an American tackle. The second guard lost his gun but put +up a tussle. Stan wedged past the struggling men and jammed the pistol +barrel into the neck of the pilot. + +"We'll take over now," he snapped. + +The pilot cringed forward while the copilot turned about. Stan circled +his neck with an arm and cinched down tight. Before the copilot could +wiggle free, O'Malley was up forward with the other pistol. The copilot +lifted his hands. His face was white and he seemed scared. + +"Drag him back and tuck him away with the guards," Stan ordered. + +O'Malley and Allison dragged the copilot back and crowded him into the +narrow rear compartment with the others. Allison stood guard over them, +while O'Malley and Stan took over from the pilot. The pilot was not +afraid of the Yanks. He did signals of distress with his wings and put +the ship into a dive before Stan laid him out with a rap over the head. +Sliding into the seat Stan began to fight the old Fiat to get her out of +a spin. + +She was going down, twisting and shuddering in every rivet and stay. +O'Malley finally climbed up front and grabbed the free set of controls. +They heaved her out of her spin just in time. Their wings fanned the +tops of a grove of trees and they had to lay over to miss the spire of a +church. + +"I can handle her now," Stan called across. "I'll go up a bit and then +you get back there and have the Italians bail out. We won't need any +prisoners. If they kick about it, tell them we'll be setting this ship +down on a Malta air strip. That ought to make them bail out." Stan +grinned at O'Malley. + +"Sure, an' it ought to," O'Malley agreed. "No Fiat iver got to land on +Malta under her own power. We'll be shot to kindlin' wood." + +"Maybe we won't go to Malta, but that's where we're headed until they +bail out," Stan laughed. + +O'Malley went back and within a few minutes the Italian crew was +unloading. O'Malley had convinced them the plane was headed for Malta +and they wanted none of the reception they knew an Italian plane would +get over that base. + +Stan watched them sail down, one after another. As the last parachute +blossomed out, Allison and O'Malley crowded forward. Stan had swung due +south, and was holding that course. + +"Suppose you see what you can do with the radio," Stan said. + +Allison laughed. "There isn't any radio and there isn't a gun aboard +this ship, except our two pistols." + +"Fine," Stan said and opened the old Fiat up a bit more. "In that case +we better get in before dark." + +"You better be after rememberin' that I'm commander o' this outfit," +O'Malley broke in. + +"All right, Commander, the ship is yours." Stan eased over a bit. With a +grin O'Malley squeezed into the pilot's seat. + +"Now you can be after givin' the orders," he said. "Where in blazes are +we?" + +"We're over Italy," Stan said. "I think the town we just flew over was +Cosenza, up the coast from Reggio." + +"Do you be after thinkin' that's water ahead?" O'Malley asked. + +They looked ahead and saw a strip of water and a long beach. Stan +frowned. "Must be the Gulf of Taranto. I guess I'm a bit mixed up." + +"I say, old man, we better swing around and head southwest," Allison +said. + +"We could fly to Africa," O'Malley remarked. + +"Not on our gas supply. The Italians must be short of gas. They +certainly didn't fill this crate up." Allison's mocking grin appeared at +the corners of his mouth. + +"How much? Don't be holdin' out secrets on us," O'Malley growled. + +"It's only a wild guess, but I'd say about forty minutes." + +O'Malley gave a startled yelp and spun the ship around to a south by +west course. "Sure, an' we're gettin' out o' here," he said. + +Allison slipped into the copilot's seat while Stan sat on a folding +stool behind him. O'Malley gave all his attention to nursing speed out +of the old ship. He got her air-speed indicator up to two hundred and +fifty miles per hour, but the indicator needle was bent, so there was no +sure way of knowing how fast they were going. They left the expanse of +water behind and headed over a rugged country. Stan felt certain they +were flying down the toe of the Italian boot. + +Everything was going fine when Stan spotted fighter planes above them +and to the west. He did not say anything until the craft were near +enough to be identified. + +"Nine Airacobras off your port wing at two o'clock, Commander," he +shouted. + +O'Malley craned his neck and squinted, then he began to grin. "Sure, an' +there is," he said. "It's an escort we've been needin'. Likely the boys +will know the way home." + +"Certainly they will," Allison said. "And they'll know a Fiat BR 20, +also. This crate looks like a bomber." + +"We better duck and go downstairs for a bit of hedge-hopping," Stan +advised. The Airacobras had spotted the lone bomber and were peeling off +like hounds scenting a buck. + +O'Malley did not need any suggestions as to what to do. He nosed the +Fiat over and sent her down the chute in a screaming dive that +threatened to pull the wings off her. Stan glanced at his chute harness +to make sure everything was in order. He figured O'Malley would fold up +the Fiat like an old accordion when he started to pull her out of the +dive. + +The Airacobras rapidly overtook the bomber, even though she was +power-diving far beyond her limit of stability. Stan saw one of the boys +flash in on their tail. + +"Kite her!" he bellowed. "Stinger on your tail!" + +O'Malley and Allison both hauled back and the Fiat wobbled and staggered +as she started to lift. Stan could hear her joints giving way, then she +bounced. Lead whistled below them, while the Airacobra roared down the +trail of its own bullets. + +"Close," Allison muttered. + +Stan squinted up and back. Two more fighters were lining up. It seemed +plain that they were surprised at the antics of the Fiat. They had never +seen one do stunts like that before. The two came raking in, blasting +from longer range. Stan felt the lead rip through the Fiat's wings and +body. One bullet plunked through close to his head, ripping a big hole, +another exploded back in the tail compartment and half of the peninsula +could be seen through the hole. + +"Sure, an' they need shootin' practice!" O'Malley bellowed as he slipped +off on one wing, did a stall, and laid over for another dive. They were +now close to the treetops. Another Airacobra dived in and when it zoomed +away, they were minus one wing tip and their port engine was stuttering. +But they were down among the treetops and O'Malley was hedge-hopping +like a wild man. They missed an ancient castle set on a cliff. How +O'Malley managed it he himself did not know. One wing lifted and the +turrets of the old castle slipped under. Down they went into a little +valley, fanning the treetops. One motor was dead and the other was not +putting out much power. + +Suddenly they realized that they were being covered by flak fired from a +field ahead of them. The barrage was fierce and concentrated. It sent +the Yank fighters kiting up to a safer level. The boys felt sure of +their kill anyway. The Fiat had started to billow smoke out of the tail +compartment where an incendiary shell had lodged. + +"I'd rather bail out than land in this thing!" Allison shouted. + +O'Malley shook his head and grinned. "Not one chance, she won't lift a +foot. Here goes for a belly landing!" + +They skimmed over a row of trees and headed for an open field surrounded +by woods. The Fiat gave up the ghost halfway across the field. She just +settled down and hit the earth in a cloud of smoke and dust. Twisting +and turning she plowed her way toward the far tree line. Finally she +whirled around and piled up. The dust and smoke was so thick the three +Yanks could see nothing. Pawing and struggling they fought their way out +of the mass of wreckage. They heard men shouting all around them. +Bursting out of the smoke and dust, they found themselves surrounded by +fifty or more German soldiers. + +For a moment the Germans were as surprised as the three Yanks. They had +expected to rescue a crew of Italian fliers. The men before them were +dressed in the garb of Italian civilians. An officer bellowed an order +and the Germans charged in. + +There was no place to run, except out on the open field, and that would +have been suicide because a half dozen of the Germans were armed with +tommy-guns. The Yanks just stood waiting for the Germans to reach them. +The officer in command of the rescue group, a tall fellow with a saber +scar on his cheek, halted before them and regarded them critically. +Slowly a sarcastic smile formed on his lips. He spoke to them sharply in +Italian. + +Stan answered in English. "We are officers of the United States Army." + +The officer looked blank but another officer who had come up broke in, +speaking clipped but perfect English. + +"American fliers dressed as Italian civilians." He raised his eyebrows. +"We can thank your fighters for shooting you down. Your spy system is +very dumb, indeed. Your fighter planes should have known better." + +"We were Italian prisoners of war. Our uniforms were ruined. As a matter +of courtesy the Italians furnished us what clothing they had." Stan +spoke stiffly. "We demand the rights of prisoners of war." + +"We will decide what rights you have, but I believe you will be shot as +spies." The officer turned to his superior and spoke in rapid German. + +Allison had said nothing at all. O'Malley just glared at his captors, +his big hands balled into fists. Stan moved close to him. + +"Keep your shirt on. We're in a tight spot," he said in a low voice. + +"Quiet, you!" bellowed the officer. "Do not talk to each other." + +The ranking officer shouted a command and three German soldiers with +machine guns closed in behind the boys. + +"March!" the younger officer snapped. + +They marched toward the woods. The officer moved stiffly ahead. The boys +realized that escape from two squads of Italians would have been much +easier than escape from the three Germans. They seemed eager to use +their deadly tommy-guns. + +"I understand German, you know," Allison murmured as he bumped against +Stan. Stan moved closer to his pal and Allison went on. + +"The commander is very angry because they were forced to open up on our +fighters. Now the location of their guns is known. He is also eager to +learn something about the strength of our air forces attacking Sicily +and heading for Italy. He hinted we would be baited on by a promise of +being treated as prisoners of war if we talked." + +"We won't talk," Stan muttered. "Anyway, we don't know anything." + +Entering the woods they found themselves in a cleverly hidden camp. The +boys were lodged in a barracks room with barred windows. Two other +prisoners, both Italians, were in the room. A guard stood at the door, +while several others paced up and down outside. + +"Looks snug and tight," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' we'll soon find out," O'Malley growled. + +"We'll go into a huddle and cook up something," Stan said. "We're not in +the hands of Italians now, and I don't feel up to facing a firing +squad." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FIRING SQUAD + + +The three Yanks seated themselves on a rough bench in their cell. The +two Italian prisoners looked them over without interest, then went back +to their own talk, which they were carrying on in whispers. Every once +in a while they shot glances at the boys as though fearing they were +trying to hear what was being said. + +"Suspicious chaps, what?" Allison said, amused. + +"Wonder what they were thrown in for?" Stan mused. + +"Sure, an' it matters very little. What happens to Mrs. O'Malley's boy +is what's worryin' me," O'Malley broke in. "Ivery window is fastened as +tight as the purse o' a Scotsman an' the door is well guarded." + +"They'll be coming after us very soon," Stan said. "They'll question us +one at a time." + +"You'd best act as commander," O'Malley said. "I might plant a fist on +the nose o' one o' their generals." + +"I say, that's a fine idea," Allison agreed. "Stan, you are in command." + +It was natural for them to turn to Stan. He had always been the most +level-headed of the three in tight spots. He grinned at them. + +"We'll see who they pick," he answered. "But we don't talk." + +A few minutes later the junior officer who spoke English appeared. He +shoved past the guard and stood at the barred door. The two Italian +prisoners stopped talking at once. The boys did not get up from their +bench. They returned the stare of the officer. His eyes moved over them +and paused on Stan. + +"Are you in command?" + +"I am in command," Stan answered. + +"Come with me. The colonel is very reasonable. If you are not pig-headed +you may be treated as prisoners of war." + +Stan got to his feet. One of the Italians had risen. He looked at Stan +closely. Suddenly Stan turned back to his pals and bent close to them. +In a whisper he said: + +"Be careful. I just got the idea those Italians may be planted in here +to listen to what we say." + +"Come on, you," the officer snapped. + +Stan moved to the iron grating. Pulling a bunch of keys out of the side +pocket of his tunic, the guard unlocked the door. Stan stepped out on a +narrow walk which led to a row of doors. The officer marched stiffly at +his side. At a glance Stan saw that the place was well guarded. Not less +than a dozen men with rifles were spotted within sight of the guardhouse +and of the buildings grouped around it. + +"You will do well to answer all questions truthfully and in detail. +Colonel Kittle is a man of action." The officer gave decided emphasis to +the last words. + +Stan did not reply. They were entering a big room with wall cabinets and +a desk. Chairs ringed the desk on which lay various trophies and gadgets +such as might have decorated the room of any flight lieutenant. Stan +spotted a piece out of a Hurricane fighter. There was an American Colt +forty-five automatic and a Russian helmet. + +Behind the desk sat the tall officer with the saber scar across his +cheek. Stan sized him up as a Prussian military man of the old school. +Now that he had a good chance to look at the colonel he saw that the man +was hollow-eyed, his skin was drawn tightly over his cheekbones, and his +short, cropped hair was streaked with gray. Stan snapped a salute, not +knowing exactly why he did it. + +The colonel returned the salute and waved a bony hand toward a chair. +Stan seated himself. The officer went on regarding him intently. The +junior officer seated himself beside Stan and waited. Finally the +colonel spoke in German. The young officer frowned, then began +translating. + +"The colonel wishes to compliment you. The Americans have done very well +in Africa." + +"Thanks," Stan answered warily. + +"He sees no reason why you should not be classed as a prisoner of war." +The young officer's lip curled. He turned to the colonel and waited. + +The colonel spoke for some little time. When he stopped talking the +young lieutenant faced Stan. + +"We wish to know the approximate number of fighter and bomber craft +based upon Africa. It would be helpful if you could add information +regarding additional troops moved in to assist in the action against +Italy." + +Stan smiled. "My compliments to the colonel. Tell him I am not at +liberty to give such information." + +The officer scowled. He translated and the colonel smiled back at Stan. + +"That will be all," the young officer snapped. It was plain the young +officer did not like the way his commander was handling matters. + +Stan was marched back to his cell. The young officer hurried away. When +he was out of hearing, Stan spoke in low tones to his pals. He now +noticed that the Italians seemed interested and were trying to listen. + +"The old boy with the scar is commander. He's a Prussian officer of the +old school and does not think much of the Nazi methods. He seems to have +convinced himself that we are really officers and told the truth about +our clothes." + +"I'll get more dope," Allison said. "I can understand their talk." + +A few minutes later the young officer returned and took Allison to the +office. O'Malley and Stan sat waiting for his return. The Italians sat +with their backs against the wall in silence. Fifteen minutes passed and +then Allison returned. The boys went into a huddle. + +"The colonel is not in favor of using the third degree on us. He says he +has reports on us from the Italians and knows we are prisoners of war. +He said all this in German. The young lieutenant seems to be in with the +Gestapo. I gathered that they hate each other." Allison paused and +grinned. "The old boy told him off plenty, but the kid is stubborn. He's +going over the head of the colonel, so we may have trouble." + +"Sure, an' I'll bet the colonel can get tough, just the same," O'Malley +cut in. + +"Yes, he's as hard as nails but he has the old rules well trained into +him. He'll do whatever the big shots order. Guess who the big boy in +Italy is." + +"Couldn't make a stab," Stan said. + +"Rommel himself. He's to keep us from breaching the continent. Remember +how Herr Goebbels has been shouting that the Allies could never break +into the European fortress? Well Rommel is going to see that we don't +crack through." Allison laughed softly. + +"Sure, an' we'll give 'em the same pastin' we gave him in Africa," +O'Malley growled. + +An hour passed and O'Malley was not called in. Supper of bread and thin +soup arrived and with it came the Gestapo officer. He seated himself on +a stool outside the bars and talked while the boys ate. O'Malley looked +at the food, then turned to the officer. + +"'Tis not fit for a hog, this food." + +"That's why you are getting it," the officer said and laughed loudly. + +"We are entitled to decent rations," Stan said. + +"What does it matter about the rations? I have just talked by radio to +headquarters. Unless you give us the information we want, you will be +shot. I have the order with me." He leered at the boys triumphantly. + +"Pleasant sort of folks, you Nazis," Allison drawled. + +"I will attend to the execution myself, tomorrow morning. You will have +tonight to think things over." He got to his feet and kicked aside the +stool. + +Stan finished his tin of soup and stood up. He walked to the barred +door. The guard swung around and made a menacing motion with his rifle. +Stan grinned at him and stepped back. He was convinced the Gestapo +officer had told the guards to shoot on the least provocation, he could +read it in the man's eyes. + +"Be careful," he said as he seated himself again. "The guards have been +told to get rid of us if they can find any excuse." + +"I'd as soon be shot by a guard as a firing squad," Allison said. + +"We might get the fellow up near the bars and get his keys," Stan said. + +"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. "But how?" + +"We'll get over near the door and start to whisper with our backs to +him. See if we can tease him up close," Stan suggested. + +They moved over near the grating and began whispering. The guard stood +watching them. He was a full ten feet from the door and did not move. +His expressionless, beefy face showed not a flicker of interest. Finally +the boys gave it up. + +"He has about as much curiosity as a turtle," Stan said sourly. + +"Sure, an' they may put on a guard with a brain," O'Malley said +hopefully. + +They sat down and tried to think up another scheme. At midnight the +guard was changed and they tried their trick on the new man. He was less +interested than the first one. He turned his back on them and let them +whisper. The boys gave it up and sat down to wait. + +They dozed off after a time. O'Malley stretched out on the floor and +went to sleep. Stan and Allison remained on the bench, leaning back +against the wall. The clatter of trucks and shouting of soldiers wakened +them. Daylight was breaking and the camp seemed to be getting set for +some sort of action. Presently the young officer appeared. He glared at +the three Yanks. + +"Are you ready to talk?" he demanded. + +"No," Stan answered. The others shook their heads. + +"In that case I will waste no time. You will be shot within the hour." +He turned to the Italian prisoners and spoke in German to one of them. +His words were harsh and his attitude showed he had no respect for the +men. + +One of the prisoners answered in German. His words were angry and he +was defiant. Suddenly Allison stepped forward. + +"I say, old man," he addressed the officer. "I've changed my mind. There +is some information I could give the colonel." + +"Come along then," the officer snapped. He shot a few words at the +Italians as he motioned for the guard to open the door. + +Stan grabbed Allison's arm. "You can't do it, fellow," he said. + +Allison turned on him. "You may want to die and become a hero, but I'd +rather be a live war prisoner. I say, get your hands off me." + +Stan started to pull Allison back. With a quick movement Allison planted +a fist on Stan's jaw. It was a hard right cross and set Stan back on his +heels. + +The officer laughed loudly. "Now you are acting quite as you should, you +swine." + +"Let me get a crack at him," O'Malley howled. "The traitor!" + +He was blocked by the bayonet of the guard. Allison walked out of the +cell. He paused and looked back. There was a mocking leer on his lips. + +"Good-by, saps," he said. + +Stan slumped down on the bench. O'Malley marched up and down fuming and +ranting. Twenty minutes passed and a soldier came to the cell. He +escorted the Italians out of the room. Stan got to his feet and walked +to the door. He was attracted by marching feet on the gravel outside. + +Looking out he saw a squad of men with rifles. The squad leader halted +them and faced them toward a wall. Their rifle butts hit the gravel and +they stood rigid, with their backs to the cell door. Stan noticed that +mortar had been knocked from the surface of the wall. He could see many +splattered places and many bullet holes in that wall. Turning around he +looked at O'Malley, who had seated himself. + +"The reception committee has arrived," he said calmly. + +O'Malley got to his feet and walked to the door. In silence they stood +looking out at their executioners. The squad leader was looking their +way. He seemed eager to get at the business he had to perform. + +Two officers appeared and halted before the squad leader. He saluted and +the three talked briefly. The officers turned toward the guardhouse. +They spoke to the guard and he produced his keys. The door was opened +and one of the officers spoke in broken English. + +"Come now." + +Stan and O'Malley walked out of the room. One of the officers produced +two strips of cloth and held them out. Stan shook his head. + +"No blindfold for me," he said evenly. + +"Get them rags away," O'Malley growled. "I'll be lookin' ye in the eye, +ye spalpeens." + +Walking between the two officers, they marched out across the grounds +toward the wall. Reaching it, they faced the men with rifles at rest. + +"Get it over with," Stan snapped. + +"Sure, an' I'll bet Allison will be sorry he isn't here," O'Malley said +gloomily. + +The officers moved back and took up positions beside the firing squad. +Suddenly a jangle of angry and excited voices broke loose from the +direction of the colonel's quarters. A door burst open and a big fat man +plunged out upon the parade ground. + +"General Bolero!" Stan gasped. + +It was General Bolero and he was red-faced with anger. Behind him came +Colonel Kittle, the Gestapo officer, the two Italian prisoners, and +Allison. The general charged across the grounds and halted before the +two officers in charge of the firing squad. He jumped up and down and +shouted, waving his arms wildly all the time. Colonel Kittle came up and +halted. He snapped an order to the officers. + +The Gestapo officer was shouting loudly, but he was no match for the +general, who bellowed so loudly that the medals on his chest danced up +and down. + +The firing squad suddenly came to life. They shouldered their rifles, +about-faced, and marched away. Stan and O'Malley walked over to the +group. + +The general ceased shouting and looked at the two Yank airmen. He puffed +out his cheeks and said: + +"A thousand apologies, gentlemen. I am ashamed. Italy is shamed. This +could not be." He faced the colonel. "These are my prisoners, Colonel. I +am taking them with me." + +Colonel Kittle saluted and nodded. The Gestapo officer whirled and raced +away. + +"We will go quickly," the general said to the boys, "before the suckling +pig receives more orders from his superiors." He bowed deeply to the +colonel and faced about. + +"I have given our promise to go with him," Allison said. "It was the +only way to save your necks." + +They marched away beside the general. Beyond the buildings they came to +a big car with an army driver. General Bolero himself opened the door, +and the boys seated themselves in the rear seat. The general climbed in +the front seat with his driver. He sat very stiffly but every once in a +while he sputtered like the fuse on a firecracker. + +The car rolled up a shady road, past many guards, and on into a wide +highway. Stan turned to Allison. + +"How did you work it?" he asked. + +"I heard one of those Italian prisoners say he demanded to see General +Bolero. The officer told him Bolero was in Colonel Kittle's office. I +thought there might be a slim chance if I could get to the general, so I +pretended to be ready to turn traitor." Allison chuckled. "You should +have seen the general," he lowered his voice, "when I told him we were +to be shot as spies." + +"He's a good egg, but for how long did you give our parole?" Stan asked. +He was worried because a military parole is something a soldier does not +break. + +"Thirty days," Allison replied. "It was the best deal I could make." + +"Thirty days!" Stan repeated. "Italy will be captured by that time and +we'll miss the show." + +Allison grinned. "You know, I got the idea the general figured Italy +would be out of the war by then." + +"'Tis the first time I iver promised to stay in jail," O'Malley said +sadly. "But after lookin' down the barrels o' them Nazi rifles, I'm not +kickin' on the bargain." + +"Yes, we'd have missed all of the show if Allison hadn't outsmarted that +Gestapo officer," Stan agreed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +REST CURE + + +General Bolero took his prisoners to a villa a few miles from Naples. +Here they had comfortable quarters and good food. They saw little of the +general, as he was busy attending to the fortification of the Salerno +and Naples water fronts. When they did see him, he always spoke with +little respect for his German allies. Stan and Allison liked the +general, but O'Malley did not warm up to him. The Irishman had never +liked high-ranking officers. To him they were always brass hats. + +The days passed slowly. The boys had a small radio and always tuned in +the Algiers radio station for news of the Allied attack upon Sicily. The +news of the fighting made them squirm, and for hours after listening to +a military report of the advance of Patton and Montgomery they paced the +floor. O'Malley was especially restless. He marked each day off on the +calendar and planned his escape. + +On the twenty-seventh day the boys were seated on a shady balcony from +which they could look down toward the city of Naples. Directly below the +grounds of their villa were the headquarters and general assembly fields +of the Germans. They seemed to be present in considerable strength. Stan +sat with his feet on a railing. Allison was near the railing. O'Malley +was sprawled out in an easy chair. + +"Sure, an' it will be no trick at all to get away," he said. + +"Before our parole is up the general will make other plans for us, you +can bet on that," Stan answered. + +"I'll bet we're locked up," Allison added. + +"We could sneak out a bit ahead o' time," O'Malley suggested. + +"The general has treated us very fine, besides saving our lives. We stay +until one minute after midnight of the thirtieth day," Stan said firmly. + +"I'm goin' crazy," O'Malley growled, "sittin' around here listenin' to +air fights. There won't be a German plane left to tangle with by the +time we get back into it." He sat up and scowled down at the German +camp. "Besides, these Italians can't make decent pie." + +The boys laughed and O'Malley joined in. Behind them a curtain parted +and four officers stepped out on the balcony. The general was paying +them a visit and he had with him three flying officers of the Italian +air force. + +The Yanks got to their feet. The general smiled in friendly fashion and +waved a hand toward the three fliers. + +"I have brought three of my boys, Tony Bolero, Arno Bolero and Lorenzo +Bolero. They are all officers of our air corps." He faced the Yanks. +"Lieutenant Wilson, Lieutenant O'Malley, and Lieutenant Allison." + +The Bolero trio bowed deeply. Stan stepped forward and held out a hand. + +"Glad to meet you, Lorenzo," he said. + +The fliers shook hands while the general beamed happily upon them. + +"Sit down. I have much to say to you men," he said. + +They found chairs and pulled them up beside a table. The general seated +himself and puffed out his cheeks as he fished a thick envelope from his +pocket. + +"What I am about to say is most unusual. I have a request to make of you +Americans. I wish you to extend your parole." He lifted a hand as +O'Malley opened his mouth to say no. "I feel that you should do this +after the manner in which you have been treated." He smiled at Stan. + +"For how long, sir?" Stan asked. + +"I cannot say exactly, but not for very much longer. I am leaving my +boys here and they will be with you during the time you stay here." His +smile faded and he suddenly looked tired and old. "I ask this for a +personal reason. Perhaps I am selfish." + +"You saved our lives, sir," Allison said. "I'm giving my parole for a +while longer." + +"I'll give mine, sir," Stan promised. + +They looked at O'Malley. "An' I'm gettin' away if I can," he declared. + +The general bowed. "You know, of course, that I must place you in +custody of a guard?" + +"Sure," O'Malley replied. "Sure, but I'm gettin' itchy feet." + +The general nodded. He handed the fat envelope to his eldest son, +Lorenzo. + +"You will keep this for me. Above all it must not be given to the +Germans." He got to his feet. "Now I must be getting back to +headquarters. I trust you have been comfortable, gentlemen?" + +"We have, thank you, sir," Allison said. + +Gravely the general shook hands with the three Yanks and with each of +his sons. At the doorway he paused and they all gave him a snappy +salute. After he was gone the Bolero boys were silent. They stood at the +balcony looking down on the shady road until his car disappeared inside +the German camp. Lorenzo turned to Stan and there was a tight smile on +his lips. + +"This is a strange war for the Italians," he said. + +"It is," Stan agreed. + +The brothers shrugged their shoulders and started to chat with the Yanks +in smooth English. They had learned the language in Great Britain. +O'Malley sat back and said nothing. Stan and Allison carried on the +talk. The war was not mentioned again. Allison and the brothers talked +about schooldays in England. + +At last Lorenzo got to his feet. The others joined him. They all bowed. + +"We leave you now but will see you at dinner tonight." + +After they had gone, O'Malley burst out, "You sure did get tricked by +that ol' brass hat." + +"I don't think so," Stan said. + +"I say, old man, you better change your mind. If you don't, I'll wager +you a dinner we see action before you do." Allison was smiling. + +"Sure, an' you talk riddles," O'Malley snorted. + +"There's only one place the general can put you for safekeeping right +now. He'll have to turn you over to the Germans. This part of the +country has been taken over by the Nazi gang." Allison spoke slowly. +"The general hates the Nazis. Figure it out for yourself." + +"An' suppose he pops up with a regiment o' soldiers to take you to a +camp about five minutes before our parole is up?" O'Malley asked. + +"He could do that anyway," Stan answered. "We've waited a month. A few +more days won't kill us. I have a feeling Allison is right." + +"The Italians have thrown Mussolini out, perhaps they will start +throwing the Germans out," Allison said. + +"They wouldn't have a chance," O'Malley answered. + +"I guess you're right about that, but something's up. I'm going to wait +and see." Stan walked to the balcony rail and seated himself. + +That night at dinner the Bolero brothers were quite gay. And for the +next few days they were always around, but always friendly and polite. +Stan wondered why they were not at the front. Italy certainly needed +every pilot she had. He did not think that the officers had been +detailed to watch them. + +The parole day came and a guard arrived in the morning. The three Yanks +saw a squad of Italian soldiers headed by a young officer halt in the +yard below. O'Malley sat on the rail, watching. The young officer came +to the balcony alone. + +"Which one is Lieutenant O'Malley?" he asked. + +O'Malley grinned at him. "Sure, an' that's me. I'm glad you dropped in. +Tell General Bolero that I am givin' my parole, though it is against me +better judgment." + +The officer bowed. "I am pleased," he said. "I will report this to the +general." He bowed again and turned on his heel. + +Stan looked at O'Malley. "I thought you'd get some sense into that +shaggy head of yours." + +"We'll rot right here," O'Malley said with a scowl. "But the likes o' +you has need o' someone to look out for you." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "You are very thoughtful." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ESCAPE + + +The three Yanks were sitting on their balcony restlessly watching the +activity in the German camp below. They were beginning to wonder if +General Bolero ever meant to release them from their promise. His sons +still remained at the villa, but they never mentioned the war. Suddenly +Lorenzo burst out on the balcony. He halted and lifted both hands +excitedly. + +"Italy has surrendered!" he announced. "You are free men!" + +Before the Yanks could reply, Arno and Tony rushed in. They were very +excited. + +"This is the hour we have waited for," Tony shouted. "Now we will drive +out the Black Shirt Fascisti and the Germans." The younger brothers +embraced each other and danced up and down. Lorenzo smilingly watched +them. Slowly he turned to the three surprised Yanks. "My family--we +have fought against the big-talking Mussolini. We belong to the society +Free Italy." + +"Great!" Allison exclaimed. + +O'Malley was already headed for the door. + +"Wait!" Lorenzo shouted after him. "I must tell you some things." + +O'Malley halted and turned toward the door. "Sure, an' all I want is to +get back into this fight." + +"I am sure you do," Lorenzo said. "And I am going to help you." + +"Good," Stan said. + +Lorenzo took a fat package from his pocket. It was the package his +father had given him. He held it out to Stan. + +"Here are the locations of all German bases in Italy, the positions of +batteries, the supply routes used, and all the military maps you will +need. This is very important information." + +O'Malley was staring at the package. "Sure, an' it's of no use now with +Italy out o' the war. We'll be headed for Germany." + +Lorenzo shook his head. "I'm afraid it is not so easy as that. Germany +has as complete control of Italy as she has of any conquered country. +The Germans will be helped by our Black Shirts, who know they will be +treated badly if they do not stay in power." He spread his hands wide. +"Every officer like my father will be hunted down. We will be hunted. +Today we dress as civilians and go north to destroy Nazi rail lines and +supply dumps." + +Stan took the packet. "Have you any suggestions for our getting out of +Italy?" + +Lorenzo smiled. "My brothers and I will have no use for our Nardi +fighter planes. Perhaps after the war we might be repaid with an +Airacobra." + +"'Tis a foine set o' brothers ye are," O'Malley cried. "Lead me to those +Nardi ships." + +"They are in a woods north of the villa. On the hunting acres of the +Bolero estate there is a runway the Germans have not found. I will lead +you to your planes. But we had best hurry as the Germans are taking over +everything." He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. "You +know how efficient the Germans are." + +"You will go nowhere," a harsh voice said. + +The boys whirled toward the wide doorway leading to the balcony. Four +German soldiers with tommy-guns stood glaring at them. A youngster with +an officer's insignia on his shirt spoke. + +"We have heard what you said. You are spies and will be dealt with +quickly." + +Lorenzo was in front of Stan. He whispered, "Over the balcony rail. +There is a large shrub to land on. Take the path leading from the +kennels. Cross the ridge. There is no road to the field." + +"You, stop talking!" the German officer shouted. + +Stan did not hesitate. He did a backward flip. As he went over the +railing he saw flame flash from a machine gun. He caught a glimpse of +Lorenzo sagging forward, his hands gripping his stomach. + +The next instant he had plunged into a large bush which broke his fall. +He lay beside a rock wall in a ditch. Vaguely he knew where the kennels +were. Tony had taken him back to see the dogs one evening after dark. +From above he could hear the officer bellowing down to the men he had +left below. He hoped the Germans had felt so sure of their quarry that +they had not surrounded the house. + +Reaching a corner he discovered a guard there. The man was looking up, +listening to his commander's orders. Stan hit him hard in the back with +a knee and slapped a viselike grip around his neck. The man sagged down +without a murmur. Stan stripped off the fellows cartridge jacket and +grabbed his tommy-gun. He was glad the Germans had equipped their hounds +with rapid-fire guns. + +Leaping forward he reached the back of the house. There he halted. The +squad cars were in the back yard, two of them. Four men stood at the +back door listening to the shouting above. Stan saw the kennels and set +himself to blast a path to freedom. + +Suddenly he heard a wild yell from above. It was O'Malley and Stan could +tell the Irishman was seeing red. There was a fight in progress up on +the balcony. Machine guns chattered savagely. Stan felt suddenly sick to +his stomach. The boys were up there mixing it barehanded with four +Germans armed with machine guns. + +The guards at the door whirled to leap into the house. Stan's submachine +gun burst into flame and he swept a pathway of death across the ranks +of the Nazis. They went down in a writhing mass, one of them rolling off +the steps and crawling away on his hands and knees, leaving a bloody +path behind him. + +Stan leaped for the back door and plunged into the house. He went +through the spacious music room and up the wide stairway leading to the +balcony like a charging tank, his submachine gun at his hip, his eyes +like cold steel. + +Leaping through the doorway he swept the room with his gun. O'Malley and +Allison and Tony were crowded back against the wall. O'Malley was +bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder. A broken chair lay on +the floor and beside it lay a dead German. Lorenzo lay on the floor face +up. He was dead, but there was a smile of triumph on his lips. Arno had +sagged down into a chair. He, too, was bleeding from a head wound. + +The three Germans had their backs to the door. The officer was wild with +fury. He was shouting wildly. + +"If I did not have orders to bring you in so that we can force you to +tell who your underground helpers are, I would shoot you all and leave +you here to rot!" + +"Put up your hands or you'll stay here to rot!" Stan snapped. + +The Germans whirled about. As they turned, the two soldiers dropped +their guns and elevated their hands. The officer came around with his +machine gun firing. Stan opened up and cut him down. The two men began +shouting: + +"_Kamrad! Kamrad!_" + +Stan backed them up against the wall. Before he had gotten them moved +O'Malley and Allison had their tommy-guns. They stripped the ammunition +from the soldiers. + +"Tie them up," Stan snapped. He turned about and saw that Tony and Arno +were kneeling beside their brother. + +"We should go now. We cannot help him, but I shall see that he is +mentioned in my reports as a hero in the cause of democracy," Stan said +softly. + +The two brothers straightened and rose to their feet. They stood stiffly +and saluted. + +"We will show you the flying field," Arno said. + +"We better get moving. Both squad cars made off and they'll bring back +reinforcements. The drivers didn't happen to be armed or else they +thought the place was garrisoned." Stan nodded toward Arno and O'Malley. +"Plug those wounds as you go along." + +"I will get first aid and medicine from the cabinet in my room. I'll +overtake you," Tony said. + +They moved down the wide stairway, leaving the German soldiers where +they would be rescued. Tony dashed off while the others, led by Arno, +hurried out of the house and across the yard to the stables. Racing +through the spacious barns they came to the kennels. By the time they +had passed these Tony had caught up with them. + +Pushing through a hidden gate in a hedge they came to a bridle path over +which tall trees draped their branches. + +"I say, a beautiful spot," Allison murmured. + +"It has the smell of auld Ireland," O'Malley said wistfully. + +"We are very fond of it," Tony said. + +Arno was ahead, moving rapidly upward. They hurried along and caught up +with him. From then on there was no talking; the trail wound upward +steeply, covered by a canopy of trees. Reaching the top of the ridge +they broke out into a forest. Arno led them to a spot where there was a +narrow flight strip. Still they saw no planes. + +Crossing the strip they entered a grove of tall trees and there stood +three, trim ships. O'Malley yelped with joy. Stan looked at the craft +critically. They were Nardi FN 500's, obsolete in speed and fire power, +but trim and sturdy ships just the same. Arno smiled. + +"We built this secret field so that we could slip in at night without +the black-shirted Fascisti knowing where we had gone. We met often to +plan the overthrow of Mussolini and his murderers." + +"You landed here at night?" Allison asked in amazement. + +"Certainly," Arno answered modestly. + +"We could use you as a fighter pilot," Stan answered. "When you get +through blowing up bridges and trains, you'd better join us. We'll vouch +for you." + +"We will do that. We like very much to fly," Tony said eagerly. + +"You will find the guns on the ship are serviced. The engine is 1200 +horsepower, you have two fixed guns firing through the prop and two guns +fixed in the wings. You can get three hundred and fifty miles per hour +out of those ships," Arno spoke proudly. + +"Yet they are not as good as the Messerschmitts or the Focke-Wulf," Tony +added. "And I think you will have to fight your way home against the +Germans." + +"Sure, an' we'll show them a fight," O'Malley said happily. + +"You have gas to reach Malta, but not much for fighting. It is best that +you run fast for home," Arno advised. + +"We'll do just that," Stan said, remembering the package inside his +shirt. + +Tony and Arno helped them wheel the Nardis out on the flight strip. They +were surprised to find another ship tucked away under the trees. + +"Father's ship," Arno said with a catch in his voice. "But he has not +been able to come for it." + +"He'll come," Allison said, but he was not so sure the general was +alive. He knew the Germans would be ruthless in wiping out all +anti-Fascist leaders in the territory they controlled. + +The boys climbed up and got into the beautifully streamlined cockpits. +They slipped into the Italian parachutes and got set. Arno and Tony +acted as ground crew and the engines were soon turning over smoothly. +Stan checked his dials and made himself familiar with gun controls and +equipment; he cracked the throttle and listened to the roaring surge of +power. Then he throttled down and leaned out, waving an arm in a signal +that he was leading off. O'Malley and Allison answered the signal. They +knew it was their job to see that Stan got through with his reports and +maps. + +Stan kicked the throttle open and the Nardi roared to life, leaping +forward with surprising speed. Stan hoiked her tail with an added blast +of prop pressure and tested her. She lifted at once. Unburdened by the +armor plate carried by a Lightning or an Airacobra for the protection of +the pilot and constructed of much lighter materials, she bounced off the +ground before half of the short runway had been covered. + +Stan leveled off close to the tops of the trees. He wanted to make sure +Allison and O'Malley got away, and so he did not want to stir up the +swarm of German fighter planes on the big flying field just a few miles +away. + +O'Malley came up and then Allison. They dropped into formation beside +Stan and he set his course by compass, straight for Sicily. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOMEWARD BOUND + + +Stan was not sure of the terrain he had to fly over. He wanted to avoid +the German flying fields if possible, but knew there would be many +dispersal areas and flight strips. Getting through would be largely a +matter of luck. + +The formation of Nardi FN's swooped over the ridge above Bolero Villa. +Stan was flying low and pushing the Nardi hard. He grinned as he glanced +at the air-speed indicator. They were topping three hundred miles per +hour. + +Suddenly they swept away from the hilly country and were over the German +air base. There was nothing to be done about it but keep on going. Stan +cast a critical eye downward and laughed softly. He took in the details +of the carefully hidden dispersal plots, the tree-shaded oil dumps and +the shrub-covered barracks. The picture he was fixing in his mind might +be useful later. + +They had reached the center of the area when the surprised ack-ack +gunners woke up. A half-dozen groves of trees suddenly erupted flame and +the sky above the three streaking Nardi's was filled with smoke tracers +and exploding steel. + +The Yanks went on and were away from the field before the gunners got +their altitude spotted. Stan drew a deep breath of relief. He was glad +that he had followed his hunch to fly low. Then he noticed O'Malley, on +his right, zoom upward, while Allison looped off to the left. An instant +later he spotted the reason for this maneuver. He had been so interested +in the ground below that he had forgotten the sky. A returning flight of +twenty Messerschmitts had spotted the Italian planes. + +The Me pilots evidently had received orders not to let any Italian +planes escape to join the Allies. They were coming in low for a landing +and that gave the Yanks a break. But there were twenty of them, and they +were faster and more heavily armed than the Nardi ships. + +Stan held his course steadily, while he tried to coax a few more revs +out of his motor. He was doing three-forty and could get no more. +Glancing up he saw that by quick thinking O'Malley and Allison had +gotten the edge on the Jerries. They were up above and getting set to +come down to cover his retreat. + +Grimly Stan gave his attention to his course. He was hedge-hopping over +trees and power lines. Never in his life had he seen so many power +lines. By staying down he made it tough for a diving enemy. But these +Jerries were veteran fliers. They had learned a few things about rhubarb +raiders and how to handle them from the many raids staged out of England +upon the low countries. Three of them fanned out each way, right and +left, and came zooming around in a circle like coyotes bent upon cutting +off the retreat of a jack rabbit. + +Stan watched them as they went into their circle and saw that even in +making such a maneuver they could outfly his ship. He held his course +and a tight smile formed on his lips. Everything depended upon his +timing. If he handled the thing right and guessed right, he would dodge +the cross fire of the six killers. + +The Me's came in in pretty formation, three to a side, staggered so as +to lay down a terrible and enclosing wall of death. Stan's hands were +cold upon the controls, but they were steady. His eyes took in all the +attackers in one moving picture. He was waiting for a tip that would +give him the break he needed. He had given up hope that O'Malley or +Allison would be able to break through and crack the deathtrap. Fourteen +Me's were savagely attacking them, bent upon their destruction. + +The Jerries gave Stan his break just before they went into the final act +of the kill. They thought they were trapping an Italian pilot and they +knew just how the Italian boys flew. One of the planes on the left +lifted a little to clear the zoom of the Me under him. That was all Stan +needed to know. The three Jerries on the left would go up, slamming lead +across his path. Two of the Me's on the right would go down and one +would come in straight. Stan kicked the Nardi over hard to the left, +heading her for the tower of a high line that swung down from the hills. + +The Me's went into their act, guns blazing away, punching holes into the +air. The maneuver was a beauty. The only thing wrong with it was that +the target had shifted course suddenly, leaving them in a wild tangle +with a lot of stunting to be done before they could close in again. + +But Stan's troubles were not over. His left wing raked through the top +of a small tree less than ten feet high. The power line and the high +steel tower were hurtling at him. He flattened out and held his breath. +There was no time to zoom over the heavy cables; he had to go under and +hope for the best. + +Stan did not see the cables or the tower go by; all he knew was that he +was boring straight for a red-roofed building set on a knoll. He zoomed +up and drew in a big lungful of air. Looking back, he saw that his +hounds were still busy getting untangled. He spotted only five of them +and guessed that one had come to grief in the circus stunting they had +been forced to do. + +Looking upward he saw, far above in the blue sky, smoke trailers and +little, darting planes. O'Malley and Allison were still up there, he +could tell by the pattern of the fight. Then he noticed that the five +Jerries who had been battling him started up to join the fight. He had a +powerful urge to turn back and help his pals, though going back would be +a suicide move. + +Bending forward he felt the bulky package inside his shirt and his eyes +hardened. His job was to go ahead. O'Malley and Allison were sacrificing +themselves so that he could go on. If he went back, he would be throwing +away the fruits of their courage and daring. + +Dimly and like a miniature motion picture, the battle above and behind +him was reflected on his rear-vision mirror. There was a lump in Stan's +throat as he noticed that two of the planes were coming down, twisting +and turning, trailing plumes of smoke. Before the picture faded out he +saw one parachute blossom, a tiny white flower against the green of the +hills and the blue of the sky. + +A little later he spotted the coast and the sea. A line of hilly, high +ground slipped under his wings and he headed out toward the beaches. +Suddenly the peaceful sky around him exploded in his face. Coastal +batteries had spotted him. He was low, but this time the gunners were +looking for low-flying bombers and strafing planes. They laid their flak +and their tracers on him in a deadly hail of screaming steel. The Nardi +bucked and turned half over as a shell burst under her belly. Ragged, +saw-edged pieces of shell casing ripped through the wings. An exploding +shell ripped away the whole nose and the prop. Stan felt the Nardi +wobble. Her terrific speed hurled her on and out over the water, away +from the pattern of shells. But she was a dead duck and Stan knew it. +His greenhouse was mashed down close above his head. He tried the hatch +cover and found it jammed tight. Testing the controls, he found he could +still handle the ship in a glide. + +Below him he could see two destroyers lying off the shore. They were +blasting away at the batteries he had spotted for them. In closer, two +PT boats darted back and forth, leaving trailing plumes of white foam +behind them. + +The Nardi had been flying so low that Stan had no chance to maneuver. He +figured she would sink like a rock when she hit the water. Heaving with +all of his strength he tried to open the hatch. The cover refused to +budge. Green waves were reaching up for him. He smashed at the glass +overhead and was able to push out a pane. Savagely he battered away as +the Nardi settled down. + +With a twist he laid the ship over, then flattened her, heading +straight for one of the PT boats. Now he was smashing with both hands at +the panes over his head. The glass cut his hands and arms, but he did +not feel the pain. He had a hole and he needed desperately to enlarge +it. + +The Nardi nosed gently into the trough of a big wave, then it hit the +wave and crumpled up. Green water surged over the cockpit into Stan's +face. He heaved himself upward and fought to get clear. His parachute +was off and he was half out of the cockpit, but a great force was +sucking him down, down into the cool depths of the sea. + +Stan felt the Nardi hit bottom. The thought flashed through his mind +that they were in shallow water. At a moment like this, cold, unwavering +control of mind and body was necessary. One moment of panic meant death. +Stan gritted his teeth and heaved hard. His waist pulled free and +suddenly he was floating upward. His lungs were bursting with fire and +his hands smarted, but he stroked hard and a few seconds later he burst +out of the water, blowing and flailing. The first thing he saw was the +PT boat. It was circling the spot where the Nardi had disappeared. Its +skipper waved to Stan and shouted. + +"Keep afloat! We'll toss you a line!" + +"Thanks!" Stan shouted back. + +The line came out as the boat moved closer. Stan grabbed it. Two sailors +hauled him aboard. He was met by a grinning young lieutenant, junior +grade. + +"I sure appreciate the lift," Stan said and grinned. + +The skipper stared at him. "A Yank!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get +the Eity plane?" + +"It was loaned to me by Italian friends," Stan replied. "I have +important papers which need to be dried," he added. + +"And some dry clothes," the skipper said. "Come below." + +They went below and the lieutenant introduced himself. "I'm Lieutenant +Del Ewing." + +"I'm Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Army Air Corps," Stan said. "I have been a +guest of the Italians for more weeks than are good for anyone." + +"They outfitted you when they gave up?" + +"They did. A lot of them are German haters and will help us all they +can." Stan spoke soberly. He was thinking of Lorenzo lying on the floor +with a smile on his lips, and of General Bolero, who probably had been +shot by now. "A lot of them have real courage," he added. + +Del Ewing nodded. "I've seen some of it," he said. + +"Now about these papers." Stan took the package out of his dripping +shirt. The gummed wrapper fell off, exposing an oiled cloth envelope. +That was lucky. The maps and papers were dry. + +Del Ewing was digging into his sea chest, laying out dry clothing and an +oilskin coat. He spoke over his shoulder: + +"I can't land you until tomorrow. This is a mission that can't be +dropped. My radio is shot and I'm here to stay until that destroyer out +beyond turns in. If I quit my sector, a sub or a torpedo boat might +slide in and plant a tin fish in her side." + +"The papers are vitally important to both Army and Navy," Stan said. +"But tomorrow will do." + +After fitting Stan out with dry clothing, the skipper went on deck and +the PT boat got under way to resume her patrol work. Stan soon began to +wonder if the little boat had not joined battle with a German craft. She +was hitting a nerve-shattering, plank-busting speed that tossed Stan all +over the little room. He turned to the navigator and discovered that the +kid was having trouble keeping from being sick all over his charts. He +gave Stan a green-lipped smile. + +"The skipper is pushing her a bit fast, isn't he?" Stan asked as he +lurched into a seat beside the navigator. + +"Just planing speed, sir," the boy answered. + +"Seems to me like a cross between a submarine and an airplane," Stan +said. He was beginning to feel a bit sick himself. + +Deciding he needed fresh air, he made his way up on the deck. Clinging +to the rail, he set his teeth while spray lashed his face and tubs of +water hurtled at him. Stan was reminded of riding a pitching bucker +while somebody dumped buckets of water into his face. The whole ship was +vibrating from the powerful thrusts of the Packard engines in the stern. +The deck bristled with light cannon, torpedo tubes, and machine guns. +Up there in that wild smother of foam and noise there was no chance to +talk, but Stan watched a while. + +The PT boat ducked and wove in and out between the destroyers and the +shore. Shells burst around her, churning up the sea, but the gunners +were unable to guess where the flighty PT would be at any given moment, +so they never hit very close to her. Stan hoped they would spot a sub or +an enemy patrol boat, but nothing showed up except other PT boats. + +Stan started to go below. He did not even want to think about food, but +he did feel like resting. The skipper came forward and offered to show +him a bunk, but before they went down he said: + +"You must undo your oilskin up topside; I mean, up here on the deck." + +"But I'll get soaked," Stan protested. + +"No matter, if you remain vertical for any length of time below decks +you're done for." He grinned at Stan. + +Stan went below and made it into his bunk after the third try. He lay +there with the bunk falling away from him, then slapping him hard in the +face as it came back at him. He closed his eyes and utter exhaustion +finally put him to sleep. His dreams were filled with writhing sea +monsters, every one of them rushing through the water at express-train +speed. + +In the morning the skipper informed him that they were heading for +Malta, which was now the headquarters of the Allied invasion forces. + +"We got the radio going and asked permission. When we mentioned papers +from General Bolero, they called us right in." Del Ewing grinned +broadly. "We're in luck getting away from this game of tag." + +Stan was standing beside him on the deck and the boat was knifing along +half out of the water. Suddenly Ewing bellowed: + +"Hard a port!" + +The helmsman spun the wheel and Stan clung to the railing with the +breath knocked out of him. He saw a black object swish past. + +"Wandering mine!" Del Ewing bellowed. "Probably one of our own!" + +Stan drew a deep breath and grinned at the skipper. "I'll take mine in a +plane!" he shouted. + +"I would, too, only I can't pass the physical examination for aviator. +They tell me I wouldn't be able to stand the strain!" Ewing laughed +heartily. + +Stan wiped salt water out of his eyes and shook his head. He had seen +many rough-riding vehicles of war, such as tanks and jeeps, but the PT +boat had them all bested. Any craft that was such a rough-riding brute +that half of its seasoned crew got sick was no place for him, he assured +himself. + +Toward eleven o 'clock Malta came into view, and they put into port +through a mass of ships and flatboats and barges. A sprinkling of +warcraft, including one British warship, filled the channel they were +following. But that did not bother the skipper. He sent his boat in at +planing speed which necessitated a lot of ducking and dodging. + +Pulling alongside a dock, the PT boat was made fast. Stan climbed over +the side and set his feet firmly on the ground. He was glad to be off +the deck of the speedy craft. The skipper grinned at him. + +"I'll get you a ride to headquarters. Your legs don't seem to be up to +walking that far." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "I'd be picked up by the M.P.'s for being drunk if +I tried to walk." + +The skipper secured a jeep for Stan from a Navy supply outfit. They +shook hands and the jeep roared away at top speed. Stan leaned back and +took the jolts. They seemed like caresses after the skipper's PT boat. + +News of the package he was carrying had come in ahead of Stan. A +lieutenant was waiting for him. + +"This way, sir," he said and hurried away with Stan almost running to +keep up. + +They entered a room where a dozen officers sat around a big table. +Stan's guide halted and saluted. + +"Lieutenant Wilson, sir." + +A grizzled general looked up from a map. Stan stepped forward and handed +over the package. The general took it and ripped it open at once. Stan +stood waiting to be dismissed. He started to back away. The general +lifted a hand. + +"Don't leave, Wilson. These papers are vitally important." He stopped +talking and spread out the contents of the package. The other officers +were leaning forward. "These are most important, most valuable," the +general said. He shoved the papers over to a colonel. + +"Look them over and let me know what you think of them." He turned to +Stan and smiled. + +Stan waited for whatever might be coming. The general fingered his +close-cropped mustache and continued to smile. Suddenly he leaned +forward and spoke. + +"Since receiving a message from the Navy regarding your rescue I have +had your service record handed to me. I find it quite interesting. What +happened to Lieutenant O'Malley and Lieutenant Allison?" + +Stan did not smile. "The last time I saw them they were fighting a +ten-to-one battle with a flight of Messerschmitts, a delaying action, so +that I could get through with these papers. We were flying Nardi +fighters furnished us by the Italians." + +The general's smile faded. "You think they are lost?" + +"I'm going to check with operations," Stan said. "Both O'Malley and +Allison have come back from some tough fights." + +The general reached for a telephone. "I'll have a check made," he said. + +"Has Colonel Benson been asking about us?" Stan asked and there was a +twinkle in his eye. + +"I believe it will be best to transfer you to another command. We do not +wish to approve your conduct as ferry pilots, but you certainly have +rendered a great service." The general gave his attention to the phone. +After fifteen long minutes of waiting and talking he cradled the +instrument and shook his head. "No Nardi fighters have been reported +flown in by escaped American pilots. A number have come in piloted by +Italian officers." + +"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "I would like to have immediate service in +a fighter squadron." + +"That will be arranged from my office. Now get into some proper clothing +and report to Mess Nine. Hold yourself ready there to report to this +office. We have a lot of questions to ask and we'll be ready to start +asking them as soon as you are clothed and fed." + +Stan snapped a salute and about-faced. He marched out of the office, got +the location of Mess Nine from an orderly, and headed in that +direction. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LONE EAGLE + + +A week passed with Stan lounging around Mess Nine waiting to be assigned +to a fighter squadron. During that time he divided his hours between the +officers at Intelligence and the board of strategy. He rubbed elbows +with generals, British and American and French. During those interviews +he got an idea of the great campaign which was being planned. It helped +to soften the ache inside him, because he had heard nothing from +O'Malley or Allison. It also helped to keep him from getting restless. +He knew that a great reserve of air power was being assembled to throw +an umbrella of planes over the coming thrust, which was aimed at the +heart of Germany, through or across Italy. + +The second week was well under way and everyone, except the generals, +was beginning to complain and to cast a critical eye at the headquarters +of General Dwight D. Eisenhower and General Harold R. L. G. Alexander. +Stan knew enough of the plans from his meetings with the officers to +know that the blow was coming, and that it would be a swift, savage +thrust. + +One morning he received a call. It was delivered by an orderly. Stan +opened the folded sheet and read an order from headquarters. "Report to +Colonel Benson at once for assignment." Stan stared at the order. Benson +had located him and demanded his return. The friendly general who had +promised to transfer Stan was now in North Africa. Folding the report, +Stan began packing the few things he owned. Colonel Benson's command had +been moved up to a field close to Messina. That was some comfort. It +meant action as soon as the main invasion broke. + +But Stan was uneasy. There were many nasty jobs around a fighter +squadron to which he could be assigned as punishment for his part in the +ferry mess. When Stan was given a low-powered observation plane to fly +to Messina, his worst fears seemed about to be realized. + +The plane was a Ryan ST-3, a plane used for basic training back home and +for odd jobs of scouting, ferrying first-aid supplies, and other +non-combat jobs. It was sleek and fast, as light planes go, but it was +far from a fighter. + +Stan sent the Ryan up and headed her north by a point or two east. The +Ryan showed surprising speed for the size of her engine. Stan grinned as +he gunned her. He got to thinking that after the war he would like to +own a ship like it. + +Swinging in around Mount Etna's cone, he set down on the Italian field +where Colonel Benson's boys were holding forth. A field officer took his +papers and waved him toward a row of drab buildings. + +"The commander wants to see you at once." He spoke gruffly and showed no +interest at all in Stan. + +Stan unloaded his gear in the briefing room and walked across to the +colonel's headquarters. The door was open and he looked into a room +barely large enough for a table and three chairs. Colonel Benson was +seated at the table. He looked up and when he saw Stan he frowned. + +"Come in, Lieutenant Wilson," he called. + +Stan stepped inside, saluted, and stood waiting. + +"Sit down." The colonel motioned to a chair. + +Stan seated himself and waited. The colonel regarded him for a moment, +then started to speak. + +"In all of the years I have been in service I have never read a report +like the one handed to me. That report covers your activities as ferry +pilot in my command." The colonel shifted some papers on his desk, +selected one and began reading it silently. + +"Yes, sir," Stan said, feeling some reply was called for. + +"It is a continuous recital of violations of orders resulting in a great +deal of trouble. In my opinion it deserves drastic action." His cold +eyes stabbed into Stan. + +"Yes, sir," Stan answered. He did not intend to argue, not at that +moment. + +"Take this report." A smile formed at the corners of the colonel's +mouth. "The Navy gives us the numbers from three planes that saved a +warship from being sunk off Sicily. In checking the numbers we discover +the planes are ferry planes bound for Malta." He picked up another +report. "Here is a memorandum from General Eisenhower citing Lieutenant +Wilson for the delivery of vital documents from inside Italy." The +smile faded. "And there is a line mentioning Lieutenant's O'Malley and +Allison for covering your escape." The colonel dropped the paper and +leaned back. + +"Yes, sir," was all Stan could say, but a warm glow was beginning to +stir inside him. + +"And that last line is the reason for my calling for your services, +Lieutenant. I have received a message brought in by an Italian pilot who +managed to fly his plane over here." He shoved a piece of soiled paper +across to Stan. "It is addressed to you." + +Stan caught the paper eagerly and read the scrawled lines upon it. + +"Shot down. Prisoners. Held in shed back of Bolero barns. Tony with us. +One of the Bolero servants will try to smuggle this out." The note was +signed by Allison. + +"They're alive!" Stan almost shouted. + +"They are," the colonel said dryly. + +"They'll be treated like spies and not prisoners of war. The Germans +pulled that on us before," Stan said anxiously. + +"You three seem marked down as irregulars," the colonel said. "I now +find myself in the position of becoming a party to your wild schemes." +He laughed outright. "I have not reported this to headquarters. I am +afraid O'Malley and Allison should and would be marked down as +expendables and left to be shot by the Germans." He straightened and +shoved the papers aside. "With a fast, light bomber, would you have a +chance to land over there?" + +"I certainly would," Stan said eagerly. "The Bolero boys have a secret +landing strip where they hid their planes when they didn't want +Mussolini's agents to trail them. That landing strip is just above the +place where the Germans are holding Allison and O'Malley." + +"In that case I'll assign you a fast bomber and an objective. You will +drop your bomb load at another spot and make a try." His eyes were +twinkling. "And if you should bring back Mussolini, I think you might +get a medal." + +They both laughed. Stan looked at his watch. "Dusk would be the time to +hit there. I can make it tonight." + +"As you like," the colonel said. "Report to me at once when you get +back. What information you gather should clear over my desk." He +grinned. "I am a bit of a politician, you see." + +Stan saluted and made off while the colonel got busy on the telephone +getting a ship assigned to him. + +When Stan reported to the briefing room he found the colonel there. The +briefing officer and his second in command gave him his locations and +his bombing data, the weather and the wind drift. Everything was very +much routine and like a hundred other sorties being made hourly over +selected targets by from one to fifty planes. The colonel walked out to +the runway with Stan. + +They shook hands like old pals. Stan smiled. The colonel was deadly +serious. + +"Landing almost on a German flying field isn't going to be a soft +touch," he said grimly. "Not even with your luck." + +Stan turned to his ship and his smile broadened. Colonel Benson had gone +to considerable trouble in selecting a bomber. The ship that stood with +idling props was a De Havilland Mosquito. She was humpbacked like a +codfish. Her forward gun opening and her nose greenhouse made her look +like a fish. They furnished eyes and mouth. She was a plywood job, +light, but the fastest bomber in the world. + +He waved a hand to the colonel and climbed up. None of the ground men +seemed interested in his lack of crew or light bomb load. In the swelter +and rush of round-the-clock operations the boys followed orders and +rushed each job out, knowing that another ship had to be on the line as +soon as one craft cleared a spot. + +Stan leaned back against the shock pad and checked his dials. He cracked +the throttle a bit more and his powerful radials roared with surging +power. The Mosquito shuddered and trembled against her chocks. + +"Ready, Flight Fifty-four?" + +"Ready," Stan called back. + +"Lane Three, Flight Fifty-four." The voice from the control tower +snapped off. + +Stan eased up and signaled the men below. The chocks were jerked loose +and Stan gunned the ship. She leaped forward with a snap that would have +done credit to any fighter craft. Darting down the runway she hoiked her +tail and was off before she had covered a fourth of the alloted space. +Upward she roared like a streak. The boys on the ground grinned. The +Mosquito got off so fast she was out of sight before any spotter could +pick her up. + +Easing around in a wide circle, Stan put her nose into the wind and let +her have her head. He settled himself to the job ahead, his pulses +beating in tune with the roar of the slip stream of air piling up and +rolling off the leading edges of his wings. A good ship, the De +Havilland. She was the craft used to make regular flights between +England and Malta. Too fast for interception, the Mosquitoes streaked +right across Hitler's Germany or across France, running supplies daily +through enemy-guarded skies. + +The coast of Italy showed clearly ahead. Slipping in over Reggio Stan +picked a rail line and checked with his eye. No need for a bombardier +here. He lined up on the track and then spotted a short string of cars. +The train was standing still and smoke lifted from its locomotive. Stan +suspected some other Yank had spotted it and laid a stick of bombs on +the track, blocking it. + +Stan knew he should cut loose his bombs and be on his way. But the feel +of the Mosquito made him eager to try her out. This was an ideal target +for the fast-flying bomber. If he went down he would be sure to stir up +German fighter planes. The temptation was great. Stan nosed over and +sent the Mosquito roaring down the chute. He lined up on the freight +train as he went. + +The landscape wavered up at him. The train seemed to be twisting and +turning like a snake trying to wiggle away, though he knew it was not +moving. The wind ahead of his diving wings piled up and banked like +invisible snow, making the plane shudder and shake. Stan grinned. Only +the Lockheed Lightning could fly a dive fast enough to bank up air like +snow; that was what he had always thought, but the diving Mosquito was +doing it. Stan began to wonder if a ship made of plywood could take the +strain of a pull-out after such a dive. + +He released his stick of bombs and the Mosquito bounced like a golf ball +before the cutting edge of a driver. Up she went and Stan set himself +against the "high G's" he had to expect. First, as he started up, there +was a blurring of vision, then a graying, and then a momentary blackout. +Instantly the graying appeared before his eyes again, then the blurring, +and a moment later clear vision. Stan whistled softly. + +"Some ship!" he muttered. "She makes anything I ever flew except the +old Lightnings look slow." + +Three Messerschmitts knifed down from a cloud, but the Mosquito was on +her way under full throttle and leaving the toe of the Italian boot at a +space-devouring pace. The Me pilots saw what they had picked up and slid +off in disgust. + +The Mosquito went up so fast that Stan could not see the results of his +attack upon the train. Heading east he caught sight of the bay of +Taranto, then turned north. Flying on the east rim of a mountain ridge +he bored along. + +Checking the miles off as best he could, Stan turned west when he +thought he was opposite Naples. He zoomed up higher and higher until he +spotted the city on the coast, then he eased around and ducked back and +up into a layer of clouds. Darkness had not settled, but he figured he +could slide in back of the ridge above the Bolero villa and spot the +hidden landing strip. + +Easing down he clipped along the tops of the trees. Three Focke-Wulf 190 +fighters spotted him and he made off, leaving them to wander above the +hill country. Returning, he zoomed along the ridge. Back and forth he +slid but failed to locate the strip. Again he was spotted and had to run +for it. The next time he came back he flew along the top of the ridge, +which caused no less than a dozen Jerry fighters to take after him. But +he spotted the hidden strip before he made off. + +Dusk was beginning to settle when he came back. This time he had to land +regardless of the fighter planes. He came in straight for the strip, +flying so low he was below the trees in many spots. He was surprised to +find that there was a natural avenue which allowed him to slide in under +fair cover. The Bolero boys had selected their secret field well. One Me +darted over to have a look, but did not dive down. Stan set himself and +cut his engines. He was coming in now, either for a landing or a crash. +Topping a row of small trees he let the Mosquito settle toward the +grassy lane below. + +The wheels of the ship tipped the grass, then settled down solidly. Stan +applied his brakes and eased into a smooth and even landing. As he +rolled in, he spotted the big trees with overhanging branches where the +Nardi fighters had been parked. Gunning the Mosquito a bit he slid +under cover just as three Me's roared past looking for him. They went on +to the east, but came back to crisscross the ridge. Stan smiled. The +German pilots seemed puzzled over the way a bomber had vanished into +thin air. + +Swinging the Mosquito around under her own power he set her in position +for a quick take-off, then began getting out his pack of rations and the +light machine gun he had brought with him. He was eager to work his way +down the bridle path before darkness settled completely. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +RESCUE + + +Stan kept under cover until he located the bridle path leading over the +ridge. The Me's were still combing the ridge above, but the woods and +the meadows were full of long shadows which made spotting a camouflaged +object impossible. + +Moving down the path Stan kept a sharp watch for guards. The pathway was +really a tunnel under the trees. Overlapping branches formed a natural +roof. This cover made the path almost pitch-dark. But Stan moved +swiftly. He wanted enough light to spot the prison where the boys were +being held. + +Reaching the opening in the hedge he discovered that someone had moved +the branches of the hedge row so that they entwined over the opening +hiding it. Standing behind the hedge he listened. Judging by the sounds, +there was plenty of activity in the camp, and Stan could see lights +shining through the wall of leaves. A motorcycle roared and a truck +motor joined it. Men's voices could be heard clearly. + +Moving along the hedge Stan peered over it. He could see into the wide +yard of the villa and also into the yards around the barns. Every +building was lighted up and the place swarmed with Germans. Stan had +never seen so many German officers in a single spot before. Groups of +them sat around outdoor tables in the back yard of the villa. They were +eating and drinking wine from the Bolero cellars. There was a lot of +shouting and laughter. + +Stan turned to the barns. He moved along them until he could see the +back yard of the big barn. Here there were a number of smaller sheds and +barns as well as the kennels. All of them were lighted and so were the +yards around them. Guards marched back and forth in front of the kennels +and before three of the sheds. Stan was certain he had located the +prisons, but there was no way of telling which one contained his pals. +One thing was certain, the Germans felt safe here at Bolero Villa. They +probably figured Allied bombers would think the place was Italian and +leave it alone. The many trees hid the trucks, cars, and German +soldiers from view. Stan grinned. When he got back, the bomber boys +would know where to drop a stick of bombs. + +This condition made it easy for Stan to observe because the guards +figured their only job was to keep the prisoners from escaping. They +were not worried about an attack. Moving around behind the kennels Stan +found darkness. He managed to wiggle up to the back wall. There were no +windows in the back of the shed. He checked the other guarded sheds and +found no windows in the rear of them. Moving back to the hedge he +crouched there watching the three buildings. + +The only way to get into any of those buildings was through the doors or +one of the front windows. The windows were open and not barred, but at +least a dozen guards patrolled the grounds. They were scattered out, +making a blitz machine-gun attack difficult. By the time Stan had +blasted the guards out of the way he would have several hundred officers +and men attacking from the grounds below. + +A soldier approached one of the guards, spoke to him, then entered one +of the buildings, a shed between the kennels and the third barn. A +light flashed on and Stan could see men inside the building. They were +packed in, standing close together, those he could see through the +window. All of them were Italian soldiers. + +After a bit the soldier came out with an Italian officer walking ahead +of him. They went directly to the grounds below. Stan eased along the +hedge until he was opposite the kennels. Here he halted and parted the +branches of the hedge. He listened intently. The prisoners in the +kennels were talking but their voices were very low. One of them laughed +and the guard at the door shouted an order in German. With the butt of +his rifle he hammered against the sill. There was silence inside and +then a voice called out: + +"Get away from that door, ye dirty spalpeen! Yer disturbin' the pleasure +o' gentlemen!" + +Stan almost shouted. That was the voice of O'Malley. The guard beat +harder upon the sill of the door and shouted louder. Stan heard Allison +warning O'Malley to keep his mouth shut. Silence settled inside the +building. + +Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The +hedge had been carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of +the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost +a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches +over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the +opening. + +The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A +floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan +watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the +entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of +three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the +whole yard. + +The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be +engineered. Suddenly Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. He had a +bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so +completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot +of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge +the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals +were being held. + +After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in +from the big barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot +where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn. +Four Germans guarded the road and they were well spaced. Again he was +blocked. + +Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in +the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high +above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came +in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly +power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned and headed into the +woods. He was looking for a power line pole. + +The job of locating a pole among a forest of trees was not easy, but +Stan had the general location from the run of the lines. After a few +minutes of hunting he located the pole and got set to climb it. He +stacked his things at the base of the pole. He would have to slide down +in a hurry and dash to the attack. He hoped there would be plenty of +confusion. He also hoped the lead-in wires were insulated. The line was +at least 220-volt, because there were three wires leading to the barn. + +Climbing up the pole Stan came to a transformer. Gingerly he tested one +of the wires with the hard rubber handle of his knife. Nothing happened, +so he started sawing away. He was not shorted by any part of the +transformer or any wire he might be touching in the darkness. The wire +was thick and heavy but it was copper and his sharp knife bit into it. +With a tug Stan severed the heavy wire and felt it go twisting away into +the darkness, which had suddenly become very black because all of the +lights in and around the villa had snapped off. + +Stan almost fell down the pole. He heard shouting and bellowing from the +yard. Shots were fired and flashlights began to stab back and forth. +Stan grabbed his machine gun and leaped into the road leading to the +small barns. Suddenly the machine gun under the tree opened up. The +Germans knew a prison delivery attempt was on. Stan halted and pulled a +grenade from the sack slung over his shoulder. Jerking the pin, he +tossed it just as he had often tossed a forward pass in a football game. + +A sharp roar and a flash of fire told him the grenade had gone off, and +the sudden ceasing of the staccato voice of the machine gun told him he +had scored a hit. He did not have time to look as he charged toward the +kennels. He ran into a German and knocked the soldier down with the +barrel of his machine gun. Reaching the door he came to grips with three +Germans. They had an electric lantern and they spotted him closing in, +but not quick enough. Stan's tommy-gun blasted them off the wide stone +flagging before the door. + +"Hi, Allison! O'Malley!" Stan hit the door with his shoulder in a +leaping dive. He went crashing into the room with the door draped around +him. + +"Stan!" O'Malley roared from the darkness. + +"Here! Get close to me and follow me!" Stan shouted as he staggered to +his feet. + +Outside, the flaming and the sound of Stan's tommy-gun had given away +his location. Rifles and pistols began blasting away. Bullets splintered +the front of the building. + +"Get down low!" Allison called. + +A dozen men had rushed out of the kennels, carrying Stan with them. He +heard a man groan and go down as a bullet hit him. + +"Here!" he bellowed. + +O'Malley and Allison located him. They knew just about where he was +headed. Wiggling along on their hands and knees, the three fliers moved +to the hole in the hedge. + +They slid through and, paused. "Where's Tony and Arno?" Stan asked. + +"In the shed next to ours," Allison answered. "They were captured the +day we were shot down." + +"Sure, an' if you'll wait I'll go beat down the door," O'Malley +whispered. + +"We'll all go," Stan answered. "We'll batter open both prisons." + +The three, keeping close together, circled and charged into the mass of +milling Germans. They were not spotted because there was little light. +Flashlight beams stabbed here and there, but none of the fingers of +light found the three Yanks. They actually shouldered their way to +within a few yards of the first door. + +"I'll take this one, you and O'Malley take the other. I'll clear the way +with the tommy-gun," Stan hissed. + +He opened up with a burst of fire which scattered the Germans, then +charged the door. O'Malley and Allison smashed the other door. Stan +heard the shouts of the prisoners as they piled out. He backed away as +men lunged out of the building he had opened. Stan thanked his luck +that the doors had been built out of light plywood. He leaped aside and +turned his submachine gun on the Germans. He swung his arc of fire +across the yard and sent the Nazis charging for cover. + +Ceasing his fire he ducked for the hole in the hedge. Allison was +already there, but O'Malley had not showed up. + +"Hope he hasn't gotten any crazy ideas," Stan growled. + +"He probably has," Allison said. "How'd you douse the lights?" + +"I cut the main line, but they'll locate the break and fix it in a +hurry." + +Suddenly they heard O'Malley coming. He ducked through the hedge. Behind +him came two other men. O'Malley had stayed to locate Tony and Arno. + +"How did you find us?" Tony asked excitedly. + +"Allison got someone to smuggle out a note. I have a bomber up on your +secret field to take us off, if we can get up there," Stan answered. +"It's so dark, I don't know whether we can locate the path." + +Arno laughed softly. "We will lead you and we will show you how to take +off in the dark." + +"I'm glad you're along," Stan said. + +Arno led the way up the trail. He moved along at a fast pace. He knew +every twist and turn in the trail. The Yanks were hard put to keep up +with him. Tony brought up the rear, which helped to keep the party +together. + +They reached the little meadow that served as a runway. Arno led them +straight to the hidden parking ground. Here they halted under the wing +of the Mosquito. + +"What you flying?" O'Malley asked. + +"A Mosquito bomber," Stan answered. + +"One o' them wood crates?" O'Malley asked. He did not try to hide his +disgust. + +Stan laughed. "And I'm flying her, see? I wouldn't ride in as fast and +tricky a ship as this Mosquito with you at the controls." + +"I'll bet me auld grandmother could fly as fast," O'Malley said. + +"The lights are on below," Arno broke in. "I hear German soldiers coming +up the slope through the woods." + +"They have a big force down there," Allison said. "I'll bet they comb +this mountainside." + +"We'll never be able to take off as black as it is," Stan said. "We'll +have to wait for the first light so we can see something." + +"By that time the Germans will have found the ship. See the lights +flashing in the woods below?" Tony spoke sharply. + +Arno laughed. "Now I will show you how we took off on black nights. Will +your bomber lift in a hurry?" + +"Faster than a Nardi fighter," Stan said. + +"Wait. I will show you," Arno said and disappeared into the blackness. + +"We have done it many times," Tony said, laughing. + +Arno was gone only a few minutes. When he returned he explained: + +"First we roll the ship out from under the trees by hand if we can." + +"That will be easy. There is a downgrade and the Mosquito is light +weight," Stan said. + +"Then we get the engines warm enough to take off." Arno paused. + +"That will take a little time. We may have to stand off the Germans," +Stan said. + +"When the engines are hot I will place two blue flares with a red one in +the middle for a target. It is so easy. You head for the red flare and +take off before you get to it." + +"Good work. You have the flares?" Allison asked. + +"We keep a supply here," Arno said. "I will place them. When you shout +to me that the engines are ready, I will light them. Then I come running +and we take off." + +"'Tis very simple," O'Malley said eagerly. "Sure, an' we better get her +rolled out." + +The boys got hold of the Mosquito and rolled her out. Arno made off to +set his flares. Before the boys piled in, Stan handed his tommy-gun to +Allison. "You're an artist with this sort of banjo. You stay on the +ground. If any German squads show up, you chase them back into the +woods." + +"Good idea, old boy," Allison said as he took the gun. + +Stan went up and wound up the radial motors. They coughed and sputtered +but finally took hold, first with a rumbling gallop that was uneven, +then with a smoother roar. The sound of those powerful radials shook the +night air. Stan knew their full-throated exhausts could be heard by the +Germans. + +Flashes of light winked in the woods below, Stan judged that the German +squads were not over two hundred yards down the slope. Some might be +even farther up the hill. He tested the engines with a jerk of the +throttle. They bogged down and sputtered, too cold to take off. + +Suddenly rifle fire broke out across the open meadow. The Germans were +firing at the flaring exhaust flames from the Mosquito's engines. +Bullets whistled past the ship. Allison opened up and the firing from +the woods ceased. Suddenly a machine gun began to blast. Its bullets +ripped into the ship and around it. Stan gunned the engines and they +caught, bursting into a perfect and unbroken stream of power. + +On the ground Allison could tell by the sound of the engines that the +ship was ready. He began shouting to Arno. Stan throttled down to allow +Allison's shouts to carry. + +Suddenly a flare blossomed. A few minutes later another flamed. Stan +waited impatiently for what seemed a long time. He could tell by the +stabs of flame from the rifles across the meadow that the Germans were +charging down upon Arno. Then the red flare burst into flame. Stan fixed +the spot in his mind, just in case a German got to the flare and put it +out. Allison was blistering the Germans rushing down upon Arno, but the +distance was too great for a tommy-gun. + +Stan kicked the motors on, setting his brakes hard. The attackers were +now fanned out and charging across the meadow. Allison could not halt +them because they had spread out thinly over a wide front. + +"Should we leave Arno?" Tony asked. "He would want more than anything +else that you men got away." + +"We're not leavin' him!" O'Malley shouted. "I'll get down an' go help +him. He may have been hit by a bullet." + +"No, we won't leave him," Stan agreed grimly. + +Suddenly Allison climbed up. "They'll be on us in a minute!" he shouted. + +"Here comes the boy!" O'Malley bellowed. + +Arno's head appeared in the circle of light from the instrument panel. +Allison gave him a hand, dragging him into the cockpit. + +Before the trap could be closed Stan gave the Mosquito her head. She +shot away like an arrow released from a bow as her brakes eased free. +Straight at the stabbing tongues of rifle fire she roared. The firing +ceased as the Germans leaped frantically out of the path of the charging +bomber. + +Stan held her straight for the red flare. Long before they reached it he +hoiked her tail and bounced her off. She went up like a kite caught by a +gale. O'Malley, sitting beside Stan, looked over and grinned. + +"That was sweet!" he shouted. + +"You haven't seen anything yet!" Stan shouted back. He leaned toward +O'Malley, "Have Allison get the radio set working." + +A few minutes later Allison had established long-range communications +with the base at Messina and was reporting in. O'Malley went back to put +in an order for three huckleberry pies and a steak. Arno took his place. +Stan was letting the Mosquito cruise along. He leaned toward Arno. + +"What about the general?" + +"The Germans have him. He is a prisoner at Naples," Arno said in a +worried voice. + +"We'll take care of that. We're taking Naples very soon," Stan assured +him. + +"I'm afraid that may not help much. The Germans are in a fury over the +action we have taken. They will take revenge not only upon Father, but +upon the people of Naples and of every city they have occupied." Arno +looked straight ahead into the night. + +"We'll figure out something," Stan said grimly. + +O'Malley came forward and sat back of Stan. Stan called over his +shoulder. + +"I am to deliver you fellows to Colonel Benson." + +"Colonel Benson!" O'Malley yelped. "Sure an' that means we'll spend the +rest o' the war in the guardhouse!" + +"That's the safest place for you," Stan retorted. + +Allison called forward over the intercommunication phone that the +colonel sent his regards and that he had personally ordered O'Malley's +pies and steak for him. O'Malley listened in. He began to grin. + +"Sure, an' mebby the old brass hat has some feelin's after all." + +"Don't build up any false hopes," Stan warned. + +"Did he send you after us?" O'Malley demanded. + +"He did," Stan said. + +O'Malley leaned back and licked his lips. He closed his eyes so as to be +better able to get a mental picture of the pies awaiting him. + +Stan eased down a bit and called to Allison for a check on their +location and course. Everything looked fine and fair, but Stan knew that +it was at such times that trouble usually popped. + +Messina was easily located as they came in at low altitude because the +Yank and British batteries on the island were shelling the German-held +port of Reggio across the two-mile strait. Flares were blossoming along +the mainland, dropped by Yank fliers. Allison got in touch with their +field and they came in. The air traffic was heavy and the field was a +beehive of activity. No special attention was given the De Havilland +except by the crew assigned to take her over. They came racing out to +make her fast. + +The master mechanic grinned at Stan as he jumped down. "Good work, sir," +he said eagerly. The Mosquito was his pet and he had worried about her +all the time she was away. After finding out where she was going he had +been sure she would never get back. + +Stan smiled at him. "She's home without a scratch, and she's a great +ship, sergeant," he said. + +The sergeant beamed happily. "She sure is, sir," he agreed proudly. Then +he added, just having remembered the important message he was to deliver +to the bomber's skipper, "Colonel Benson wishes to see your entire crew +as soon as you land." He snapped a salute and turned to his crew. + +"Sure, an' I'm starved. I'm hopin' he won't give us a two-hour lecture +on how to invade Italy," O'Malley grumbled. + +They hurried to the colonel's headquarters, where they found their +commanding officer waiting for them. He beamed upon the dirty, unshaven +group headed by Stan. + +"I'll only keep you a few minutes, gentlemen," he said. "Be seated." + +Stan saluted smartly and spoke his piece. "I'd like you to meet General +Bolero's sons, Tony and Arno. They made it possible for us to deliver +the papers from the general and later to escape." + +"What you have done is appreciated. I hope I may be able to be of +service to you," the colonel said. + +"We wish to fight the Germans. We are both pilots," Arno said. + +"I believe that can be arranged," Colonel Benson said. + +He looked at Allison and O'Malley and a broad smile formed on his lips. + +"I have heard of the luck of the Irish. Now I am willing to add the +British to that list. What I wanted to say is that you are requested not +to talk about your experiences at all until you have reported to +headquarters in Malta. After that you will be returned to my command. No +one is going to talk me out of three fliers like you men." He looked at +Tony and Arno. "Possibly I might be able to make it five." + +O'Malley seemed to feel this was a soft spot where he could safely make +a request. He grinned at the colonel. + +"We have a job to do, sor, one that won't wait very long." + +The colonel's smile faded and he eyed O'Malley sternly. "I'm listening," +he said warily. + +"General Bolero has to be rescued from them Germans. They may decide to +shoot him." + +The colonel looked suddenly very unhappy, "That is really a job I am not +supposed to handle. After all, I am only a sector commander and not in +charge of the war in the Mediterranean area." + +"It could be done aisy," O'Malley said. "I'd like to have the job." + +The colonel regarded O'Malley grimly. "I don't doubt but you would do +it. However, there is some little risk. While you men are reporting to +headquarters, Lieutenant Wilson and I will be giving the matter our +consideration." He got to his feet. "Wilson, you see that our friends +are outfitted. Get cleaned up and have a big feed." He nodded toward +O'Malley. "I have set aside a supply of pie for you, Lieutenant." + +The party saluted and made off. O'Malley was not too happy. "If you +sneak off alone to get the general, I'll thrash the daylights out o' +you when I get back from seein' the brass hats," he growled. + +"I won't take on the whole German army alone," Stan assured him. "I'll +see that you're in on it." + +"You better," O'Malley warned sourly. + +They found their quarters and all headed for the showers. O'Malley +wanted to eat first but they talked him out of the idea. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SALERNO + + +Events moved rapidly for Stan during the next day or so. General +Montgomery's Eighth Army was driving up the toe of the Italian boot, +while General Clarke's Fifth Yank army was having a tough time holding +its bridgehead at Salerno. Stan was tickled when O'Malley and Allison +returned. Arno and Tony came with them. + +Colonel Benson called the boys to his headquarters. He was a very busy +man. He was working twenty hours a day and lines of weariness furrowed +his face. His fighters and bombers were at last masters of the air over +Salerno, but they got no rest after their victory. The Germans were +entrenched in specially prepared spots on high ground overlooking the +beaches. Artillery positions had to be blasted, and the repeated tank +attacks had to be checked or the Fifth's landing force would be blasted +into the sea. + +The boys entered the colonel's office. He nodded toward chairs. When +they were seated, he turned to Stan. + +"Have you any plans for the rescue of General Bolero? We need his +knowledge of military positions behind the German lines." + +Stan looked at Arno. "The plans are really Lieutenant Arno Bolero's," he +began. "Arno and Tony are familiar with every foot of the country where +their father is being held. He is a prisoner in a house once owned by +Don Sachetti. The Sachetti family and the Bolero family were very close +friends. Arno and Tony have spent many days at their home. If they can +go with us, we will have a chance of success." + +"They can go. Now what is your plan?" the colonel glanced at his wrist +watch. He was to have a conference with high officers in five minutes. + +"We will take one De Havilland plane. Four of us will parachute into a +field at night. Here, again, the boys will know just where to land to +hit a field of grain the Germans are saving for harvesting. The plane +will return to base and come after us the next night. If we do not set +signal flares for landing, the plane will retire and keep watch until +forced to fly home. It will return the next night and if we do not +signal it then, it is not to try again." + +Colonel Benson looked from one to the other of the boys. "I understand +you men are accustomed to such dangerous jobs. To me it seems there is +about one chance in a hundred of your even landing your parachute +force." + +"If there was an attack on the German field south of the place about the +time we arrive, we could get in easily," Stan suggested. "I have +prepared a set of maps showing good targets. The Bolero house is a hotel +for German officers." + +"I'll have operations chart a raid," the colonel promised. "Now I have +to go. Lieutenant Wilson will be in command. I have given orders to have +him supplied with what he wants." He stepped around the table and shook +hands with the boys. "I'm leaving this show up to you fellows. Good luck +to you." He turned and hurried out of the room. + +"Sure, an' that's the first time the brass hats iver turned us loose," +O'Malley said with a big grin. + +"And it will likely be the last time," Allison said with a chuckle. + +"We'd better be getting over to operations. Now, who's flying the +Mosquito?" Stan looked from Allison to O'Malley. + +O'Malley swallowed eagerly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he +turned to Allison. Allison grinned at him. + +"You fly the crate, old man. I'm one blighter who wants to get even for +some of the slaps and kicks we got in that prison dog house." + +"Sure, an' I'll be after flyin' her," O'Malley said. "But only because +I'm thinkin' ye'll be needin' the best pilot in this crew at the +controls o' that ship." + +"You hate yourself, don't you?" Stan teased. "You fly her, but just +remember, if you get into a dogfight and don't show up when we set off +our flares, you'll get the beating of your life when we walk in." He +grinned at O'Malley. + +"I'll be right there," O'Malley promised. + +All of the details had been worked out and gone over so many times by +the boys that they did not need to check again. They drew the machine +guns and grenades they needed along with flares and other equipment. +The supply officer got blue parachutes for them from an operating unit. + +"Can't be spotted at night," he explained. + +Evening was closing in by the time they had everything set. The Mosquito +was warmed up and ready. She was stripped down for carrier purposes and +to enable her to handle an extra gasoline tank. The ground crews gave +her a final once-over, waved to her crew, and backed off. Stan sat up +front in the copilot's seat to see that O'Malley was not teased into a +fight. Allison and the Bolero brothers manned the machine guns. + +O'Malley was a bit skeptical about the powers of the De Havilland, in +spite of what Stan had told him. He gunned her and gave her her head. +When she snapped off the ground in a manner that would have done credit +to a Lightning, he began to grin and mumble to himself. + +"Just don't get any wild ideas," Stan warned. They had sighted a flight +of Focke-Wulf 190 fighters and O'Malley was eying the Germans with a +dangerous gleam in his eye. + +"If they run in on us, ye can't blame me," he said sourly. + +The 190 fighters tried a run at the De Havilland, but she ran away from +them before they could begin to cut her off. + +"She's so fast she keeps out of trouble," O'Malley said in disgust. + +"That's just what she was built for. Every night her sisters keep Berlin +awake with bombing attacks, and every night they fly materials and +dispatches from England to Malta. This is something you've overlooked, +Irisher." Stan chided O'Malley. + +"I may be after lookin' into her doings one o' these days. Spendin' +ivery other evenin' in London wouldn't be so bad," O'Malley decided. + +Heading north they eased across the backbone of the peninsula which the +Germans had not taken the trouble to occupy in any numbers. They moved +along while darkness settled. Arno and Tony kept a close check on +landmarks. Finally Arno called up to Stan over the phone. + +"We can head west again. I have located the ridge and the mountain we +will use as a marker." + +O'Malley headed the Mosquito west, letting her ease down to low +altitude. Arno called in directions. + +"We are coming to the divide. There we will follow the ridge north." + +O'Malley followed instructions. As they swept up the ridge they saw +below them a great fire, with several smaller fires breaking out near +by. + +"Colonel Benson's boys have hit the flying field," Stan observed to +O'Malley. + +"Sure, an' I think they're over the Bolero place right now." O'Malley +jerked his head to the right. At that moment Tony's voice came in over +the intercom. + +"The bombers are attacking the villa." He tried not to show his +feelings, but the boys knew how he felt. His home was being blasted. + +"The whole German staff for this area ought to be down there at this +hour," Stan answered. "It's tough, but we have to do it." + +"I know," Tony agreed. "If the boys catch even half the staff there, +I'll be satisfied." + +"Now head west again, very low," Arno ordered. + +O'Malley swept lower over the darkening terrain. Stan began to wonder +how Arno was going to spot any landmarks. Hopping out into the night +would not be so nice. There were lakes and woods and rocky ridges all +over the country. + +"Into the valley a point left," Arno called. "Fly low and line up on two +peaks with square tops which should be against the sky." + +O'Malley and Stan peered ahead as the Mosquito dropped into a wide +valley. + +"There's yer peaks," O'Malley said. Stan spotted the markers as his pal +spoke. Two peaks with square tops loomed against the sky ahead. + +"Regular gunsights," Stan said. + +"Get everything ready to jump," Arno called. + +Stan slapped O'Malley on the shoulder. "Be seein' you soon," he said as +he slid back to help with the guns and other things they were taking +along. + +He found the boys getting set. Tony was loaded and ready to jump. Arno +was spotting his markers. + +"Go!" he called. + +Tony unloaded through the open hatch and disappeared into the blue +blackness, followed closely by Allison. Arno nodded to Stan and Stan +piled out. As he went down into the cool night he slid his hand to the +rip cord. They were jumping from low altitude and there was no time for +free falling. He pulled the cord and felt his chute open and snap him +into suspension. A shadowy form above him and very close told him that +Arno had wasted no time in following him out of the ship. + +Stan adjusted his pack and his tommy-gun for a landing. Peering down, he +saw the field they were to land on. At first he thought Arno had missed +and dropped them over a lake. He could dimly see what looked like +rippling waves. Then his feet touched waving grain and he eased up on +the cords to make his landing. A split second later he was down in a +field of tall and ripening grain. Wadding his chute up he drew in a deep +breath. The field reminded him of Kansas with its rich, ripe smells. + +A low whistle off to his right indicated one of the boys was asking for +a location. Stan gave a bird call and listened. He got three answers and +heard his pals working their way toward him. Twice more he gave the +assembly signal. Then he noticed that the sky above and over toward the +twin peaks was lighting up with streaks and points of light. Tracers +were arcing up and over, in and out. Grimly Stan watched. Night +fighters had tackled O'Malley. He watched the battle, following the +action by the tracers and the bursts of cannonfire. Suddenly one of the +planes broke into flame. Like a torch it twisted earthward. + +"Could have been a Messerschmitt," Arno spoke close beside Stan. + +"It burned up like a plywood job," Allison's voice said. He spoke in his +usual unruffled drawl. + +"O'Malley never would run from a fight," Stan said grimly. + +"This time I think he ran," Tony cut in. + +Allison laughed. "You just don't know O'Malley, old man." + +"No matter what happened to O'Malley we have to get going. Lead on, +Arno," Stan ordered. There was no use in going sour over what might be a +tough battle. They had plenty of work to do. + +Arno led the way out of the wheat field. He located a thick woods and +they entered it. A few minutes of walking through tangled bushes brought +them out on a pathway. + +"This is the trail to the orchard," Arno whispered to Tony. + +"There is another trail branching off, the one we used to follow when we +went swimming in the little lake below the hill," Tony said. + +"That one we must find," Arno answered as he moved on. + +The boys had their packs swung high on their backs. Their tommy-guns +were held ready. If the night fighters who had jumped O'Malley had +spotted the parachutes they would have given an alarm. Arno seemed to be +thinking about this. He moved carefully, pausing to listen every few +yards. + +Tony was bringing up the rear. He called softly to Arno. "Here is the +trail, you passed it." + +They halted and went back. Arno checked the cross trail. + +"Yes, this is the trail," he said. + +He headed off to the right and they followed. Coming to the top of a +little hill they saw lights below, dim and shaded lights, but many of +them. + +"That is the house," Arno said. + +"How far is it?" Stan asked. + +"About a kilometer," Arno answered. + +"Less than a mile to go. What's in between?" Stan asked. + +"There is a settlement where the Sachetti farm workers used to live. I +see lights down there." Arno was bending forward, peering into the +night. + +"And I hear cars and trucks," Allison added. "I'll bet the Germans have +a repair depot or an assembly point down there." + +"In that case the half mile between the settlement and the house will be +filled with Germans," Tony said. + +"One way to find out. Lead on," Stan ordered. + +The little group moved slowly down the trail. After a couple of halts +Arno paused and pulled the boys close to him. + +"I think it best to leave the trail. Just a little way ahead it opens +into a roadway. There we should certainly run into outposts." + +"We better go on until we locate them," Stan said. + +"If you think that is the best way," Arno agreed. + +"I'll walk ahead with you," Stan said. + +They moved along very slowly, stopping every few feet to listen. Finally +they heard guttural voices in the darkness ahead. Halting, they +listened. Allison moved forward a little to try to overhear what was +said. Soon he came back. + +"This is the outpost," he whispered. "Six men and two machine guns. They +are about to change guards." He chuckled. "And they do not expect us." + +"Can we move around them?" Stan asked. + +"We could, but I think we should stay. An officer is coming out to +inspect the guard. He's coming from Villa Sachetti." Stan could almost +see Allison's sardonic smile. "Nice spot for a surprise party, eh?" + +"Swell," Stan answered. "We'll take over the post. Allison can be the +decoy to lure the officer in close. He speaks German." + +"Good, very good," Arno said eagerly. "Will we use the short knives on +them?" + +"No shooting if we can help it. We'll shove in close and have a look." +Stan began moving down the pathway with Allison at his side. The party +kept very close together so as to be able to give signals to each other +without speaking. + +After edging forward a short distance they were halted by a gruff laugh +ahead. Getting down low they peered through the starlight and spotted +the sentries. They were grouped close together, four seated, two +standing. The two men standing up moved off, one to the left and one to +the right. Stan got his crew into a close huddle. + +"Allison and I will do our commando stuff on the two guards walking +post. I take the one on the right, Allison the other. You boys stay +right here. We'll be back soon." Stan spoke in a low whisper. + +One of the seated Germans suddenly sprang to his feet. He stood looking +into the night toward the party of raiders. Tony started to move +forward. Stan pulled him back. The German walked up the pathway a few +feet and halted, listening. The boys turned their faces away and +remained perfectly still. After a minute or so the man went back and sat +down. Stan gave Allison a signal and they moved off the pathway. They +left their tommy-guns and carried only their pistols, knives, and short +lengths of rope. + +Stan moved silently along in a direction that would cut across the beat +walked by the sentry. Soon he spotted his man moving at a slow walk +along what appeared to be a pathway. Stan moved in and halted beside a +bush. There he remained without moving a muscle. The sentry had reached +the end of his beat and was turning back. Stan ducked his head to make +sure no light was reflected from his face. Tensing his muscles he +waited. + +The sentry seemed to be enjoying the night. He sauntered along, his +rifle slung carelessly over his shoulder. The barrel missed Stan's head +by inches as the man brushed past the bushes where he stood. +Straightening, Stan leaned far forward, his arm shot out and encircled +the man's neck. At the same time his knee came up through the bushes in +a smashing blow. The expert application of Stan's arm and the blow in +the spine knocked the German limp at once. He did not struggle and he +could not cry out. Stan dragged him back into the bushes, hurriedly +gagged and bound him. + +Moving swiftly back to the pathway he came upon the boys. Allison was +already back, kneeling with Tony and Arno. + +"Fast work," Stan whispered softly. + +"He was a rotten soldier," Allison answered. "He sat down and started +removing one boot." + +"We'll close in fast but without noise. I have a hunch we'll get a +break. If two of the men should start out to check the men we disposed +of, Allison and I will take them out. You boys take the other two. Make +sure they don't get a chance to yell." + +"They will not yell," Arno promised grimly. + +The four raiders moved in on their hands and knees. They halted only a +few yards from the four men. Here they waited. Finally one of the men +got up and called. He listened, then challenged his sentries again. When +there was no answer he caught up a rifle, snapped an order to one of the +others, and headed off down the picket line. + +Instantly Allison slithered away into the night. One of the others got +to his feet grumbling loudly. He caught his rifle up and held it at +ready as he moved off. Stan was after him at once. + +Before Stan had overtaken the guard, having allowed him to get down the +pathway a little distance, so as not to arouse the two left behind, he +heard sounds of scuffling. Arno and Tony had not waited. They were in +action. + +Stan leaped in upon the guard just as the fellow whirled around. He +knocked up the man's gun and closed with him. The German shouted once +before Stan could get a strangle hold upon him, then he went down, +struggling wildly. He was a burly fellow with powerful arms and thick +legs. Stan was not sure that he could hold the headlock he had slid down +into a strangle grip. + +They flopped and thrashed around until Stan finally worked behind the +German and put on more pressure. After that the fellow wilted in short +order. Stan was binding and gagging him when Arno came running to help +him. + +"Did we act too quickly?" he asked in great excitement. + +"A bit fast," Stan admitted, "but I have him now. He was a tough +customer." Stan rolled the sentry into a clump of bushes and faced Arno. +"How did Tony make out?" + +"Fine, very fine. Tony hates all Germans." Arno laughed quietly. + +They moved back to the guard station and found Allison and Tony there. +One glance at the two sentries Arno and Tony had silenced told Stan they +would not have to be bound or gagged. The boys had used their knives +expertly. + +"Now about the reception committee?" Allison queried softly. + +"We need four helmets. I have one and there are two on the ground. Get +one more," Stan ordered. + +"I have it," Allison answered. "On my head." + +Sure enough, Allison was wearing a German helmet. "You boys know what +the Germans will do with us if they catch us wearing even one of their +helmets?" Stan asked. + +"The firing squad," Arno answered as he slipped one on his head. + +"If the inspector's car has its lights on bright we'll have to get down. +Arno and I will be out on each side as though on beat. Allison will have +to make up a challenge that will pass." + +"I have their password," Allison answered. "Got it from the man who +brought up word of the inspection. He gave it to get up to the post." + +"The Germans are not so smart," Tony said. "They are fools to warn their +soldiers of a coming inspection." + +Allison laughed. "The man who came up was a pal of the squad. He was +tipping them off." + +"There's a car coming up the road," Stan warned. "Use your tommy-guns to +cover them, but no shooting unless we have to fight it out." + +He and Arno moved into the darkness, leaving Allison and Tony seated on +the bench which had been used by the Germans. + +"There ought to be four of us here," Tony said. + +"I don't think that will make any difference," Allison said. "They'll +think the others are out on the beat." + +The car came up the gentle slope slowly. It did not have its bright +lights on. The slit in the headlight hood gave only a meager amount of +light and did not show more than ten feet ahead of the car. Allison +moved several paces down the road and shouted an order in German. + +The car halted and Allison shouted again, making his voice gruff. He got +the password and snapped permission to advance. The car charged forward +in a surge of speed that made Allison leap aside. + +From the darkness beside the road Stan had moved in. He saw that there +were three men in the car, counting the driver. He also saw the shadowy +form of Arno closing in on the other side. A tall officer climbed out. +He snapped an order at Allison. Allison backed away a few steps to allow +the other two officers to get out. Stan had moved up and Arno had a gun +barrel shoved into the neck of the driver. Tony leaped forward with his +gun ready. + +"Get your hands up!" he snapped and Allison gave the same order in +German at the same instant. + +Startled grunts came from the three officers. One of them reached for +his pistol. Allison's gun barrel came down over his head and the officer +pitched forward. The other two elevated their hands. + +The boys closed in and took away the men's side arms. They helped +themselves to caps and light topcoats and belts, then they bound and +gagged the officers. The ranking officer, a colonel, was furious. Until +the gag stopped his mouth he poured forth a stream of angry abuse. + +With the officers laid out far back in the bushes, Arno donned the +driver's cap and jacket. They were ready for the real adventure, +cracking the gates of the German prison camp. + +"You know the roads, so you take over, Arno," Stan said. + +"Shall we drive right through and into the front yard of the big house?" +Arno asked. + +"Is there a back yard?" Stan asked. + +"A very spacious one, but with a high stone fence around it and only one +gate, though it is a very wide gate," Arno answered. + +"There is the stone passageway to the wine cellars," Tony put in. + +"We don't want to be caught in any wine cellar," Allison answered. + +"We have to figure on fast work. The dirty work we've done here will be +discovered within a few hours, then they'll be after us," Stan said. + +"I know the house and I think I know the spot where prisoners will be +held. The Germans always take the best rooms for themselves. I think +they will hold my father in the servants quarters at the back of the +house. I have even decided which room he will be given. There is one +having no running water and very little light." + +"We'll have a look there first," Stan said. "If we park in the back +we'll be near to those rooms?" + +"Yes," Arno answered. "We can reach them through a narrow hallway +without entering the main part of the house." + +"O.K., driver, move on." + +Arno started the car and they rolled down the road at a fast pace. Stan +could not see the road but Arno knew every turn. They soon swung into a +long driveway and headed toward a big stone gate with machine gunners at +each side. Sentries armed with rifles paced back and forth across the +opening. + +"Here goes!" Stan snapped. "Try your German on the boys. If you flop, we +start shooting our way in." + +Arno charged up in the best German manner of driving an official car. +The heavy machine guns on each side of the gate converged on the car and +one of the sentries bellowed an order. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +NIGHT RAID + + +Arno did not put on his brakes until he had forced the guards at the +gate back two paces. Allison leaned out over the door, his cap pulled +down over his eyes. He bellowed loudly in German, blurring a string of +words together and winding up with the password from the outside post. +He was taking a chance that that was the password for the whole area. + +The guards backed away, presented arms, and jerked into stiff positions +of attention. Arno lost no time in shooting the car through the gates. +They entered a shadowy courtyard where the light was dim. The Yank raid +on Bolero Villa, just over the hill, had caused every post in the +vicinity to be blacked out. + +"We are under the window of the room," Arno said in a low voice. + +"There's a guard down the wall a ways," Allison said. "I'll give you +fellows a calling-down in German to make the guard think I'm really on +the warpath, then we'll march right in." + +"Perhaps I had better try the window while you are trying the door," +Tony said. "You might have trouble. There will be plenty of light +inside." + +Allison raised his voice and began berating the boys in German. +"_Schwinehund!_" he bellowed and followed that up with other choice +words of abuse. He had a bright idea and added that he was going to find +the man who had handled the blackout. He said he could see light from +the back hallway all the way out to the road. + +Instantly they heard the guard moving toward the back door. + +"Now's our chance," Allison whispered. "I said we could see light from +the back hallway. We'll make them douse the lights." + +They headed toward the back door and stomped up the wide steps. The +guard opened the door and they saw that the hallway was dark. Allison +roared at the fellow and he came to a stiff salute, presenting arms. + +"General Bolero," Allison snapped. "We would speak to him." + +The boys did not understand, but they caught the general's name and had +an idea. The guard protested but Allison thrust several papers at him. +He had taken the papers from the officer's pocket but had no idea what +they were. When the man started to use a pocket flashlight to read the +papers, Allison smashed the light out of his hand, roaring at him about +the blackout. + +The soldier was thoroughly cowed. He turned and started down the hallway +with the boys close behind him. Tony had found the window barred on the +outside and had joined the others. He nudged Stan as they halted before +a door. It was the very room Arno had said his father would be kept in. + +The guard unlocked the door. As it opened, a flood of light shone over +the men. The general's window had been boarded up, so he was allowed a +light. He was sitting at a little table writing. Stan did not wait to +see any more. He knew the guard was wise the moment he saw the raiders +in the bright light. Their shoes and trousers gave them away as well as +their faces. Stan had moved along very close to the guard. His arm went +out in a perfect commando attack and before the guard had time to shout +he was silenced and heaved into the room. + +In an instant Tony was across the room and in his father's arms. Arno +stood beside them gripping one of the general's arms. The general looked +over Tony's shoulder at Stan and Allison. + +"I am honored," he said. + +"Turn out the light," Stan ordered. + +The general shoved Tony aside and switched off the light. "You have +taken greater chances than you should. I am hardly worth the effort." + +When he had ceased speaking they listened. Several men were moving down +the hall, talking in angry voices. + +"That is the commandant of this post. I know his voice. He has with him +a number of his officers," the general said in a low voice. + +"They'll wonder where the other guard is," Stan said. "We better jerk +the boards off that window and get out of here." + +"That cannot be done," the general said. "They are planks, not boards, +and they are spiked to the outside of the house." + +Allison had opened the door a crack. "They have turned on the light. +There's five of them, and they seem excited." + +"How far down the hallway?" Stan asked. + +"At the door," Allison answered. + +The voice of one of the men lifted as he shouted an order. "He's calling +in a squad of armed men from the gate," Allison said. + +"It seems we are trapped," Arno said grimly. + +"Can we go out the front way?" Stan snapped, turning to Tony. + +"Yes. There is a side door and a front door. But we can't get back to +our car because of the walls around the back plaza." + +"Our tommy-guns and grenades are in the car," Allison said. + +"We'll have to chance it and move fast. Lead off." Stan reached for the +doorknob. Opening the door a little way he looked out. The five officers +were standing in the doorway down the hall looking out into the night. + +Stan stepped out, whipping his Colt from its holster as he went. "Down +the hall!" he hissed. "Lead them, Tony. I'll cover your retreat." + +The raiders and the general moved out and started down the hall. They +had taken only a few steps, when one of the officers at the door turned +around. He let out a startled shout. The others whirled. Stan covered +them with his Colt. The distance was a full thirty feet, good shooting +range for the forty-five. + +"Get your hands up!" Stan snapped. The bore of his gun wavered over the +stomachs of the officers and came to rest on a spot between the eyes of +the colonel. + +Amazement showed on the faces of the Germans, then hatred and fury. + +"Fools!" the colonel grated. "You will all be shot as soon as the alarm +is sounded." + +Stan was moving backward. He grinned at the colonel and made a good +bluff. His free hand slid into the pocket of his coat. "Perhaps," he +said loudly. "But I have a grenade here, an American-made grenade. You +know how much damage they do. I'm going to toss it right where you are +standing just as soon as I get to the corner." + +He knew at once that he had scored a hit. The Germans knew that tossing +a grenade in just that manner was the way Rangers and Commandos worked. +Three of the men, those in the doorway, dived out into the night where +they began shouting. The colonel and one other officer edged toward the +door. Stan reached the corner and made a motion to jerk his hand out of +his pocket. The two Germans dived for the door. + +"Whirling, Stan raced down the hall. He was passing a door when a hand +reached out and jerked him into a dark room or hall, he could not tell +which. Allison's voice hissed: + +"Inside, we're going up on the roof." Stan heard the door slam and all +was dark. "Tony knows how to go through a French window in this room out +to a trellis. We climb the vines." + +"But the general, he's pretty heavy," Stan said. + +"The boys are boosting him up right now." Allison was dragging Stan +across the room. + +They went through the window and saw the stars above. Dark shapes loomed +against the wall of the house where vines climbed up to the eaves. Stan +and Allison started up the trellis. They could hear General Bolero +puffing and grunting as Tony and Arno helped him climb upward. + +Stan looked down and saw the top of the garden wall. "I'm going down +after some grenades and a submachine gun," he hissed. Before Allison +could stop him he had swung over the wall and was dangling in space. The +vines ended at the wall and Stan could not see what was below. He took a +chance and cut loose. + +Stan was lucky. He landed on top of a canvas-covered van. The padding +dulled the thud of his landing. He sat up and listened. The yard below +was filled with shouting and yelling. Boots pounded as men ran across +the hard ground. Doors slammed and someone fired a pistol. Stan whistled +but got no answer. Then he spotted his gang. They were crouching on the +roof above. Stan whistled louder and saw a shape detach itself and slide +down toward the edge of the roof. He was sure it was Allison. When the +dark shape loomed directly above him he called up cautiously. + +"There's a canvas-covered van right here. Get the men and have them drop +off on top of it." + +"Pretty far down, isn't it, old man?" Allison called back. + +"Not too far," Stan answered. "We'll get to our car and blast our way +out of here." + +Allison moved back up the roof. In a minute he was back with the general +and his sons. + +"General Bolero coming down first," Allison called softly. + +Stan moved back but got ready to help the general. A bulky form swung +down from the roof, then fell, landing with a thud beside Stan. Stan +helped the general to a sitting position. + +"Are you hurt?" + +"Only slightly jarred," the general assured him. + +The others dropped off in a hurry. They crowded around Stan. "Now to get +to our car," Stan said. + +They slid off the back of the van. It was parked a yard from the wall of +the house. Other vans stood beside it as closely as they could be packed +in. The raiders moved along the wall, halting behind the last van. The +car they wanted to reach was only a few feet away, but it was surrounded +by a squad of men. Flashlight beams stabbed into the car and men talked +excitedly. + +Inside the house there was a great uproar as the Germans searched for +the missing men. Tony chuckled, then whispered: + +"Little Don Sachetti and I used to get spanked for sneaking through that +window and climbing the trellis." + +"We had better take over that car and our guns and grenades. This is the +best chance we'll ever have. Most of the Germans are in the house," Stan +said. + +"Don Sachetti was executed yesterday. I think he would rest better if we +tossed a few grenades through the windows of his home," the general +said. "By all means let us proceed with the capture of the car and +materiel." + +"You drive, Arno," Stan ordered. "Fan out, boys, and start shooting when +they spot us." He turned to the general. "Sorry, sir, that we do not +have a gun for you." + +"I will soon have one," the general answered grimly. + +The boys spread out in the darkness along the side of the last van. They +moved forward with automatic pistols ready. Stan picked his man, a burly +officer with a flashlight. The Germans were so intent upon the arms they +had found that they did not see their attackers until the boys were upon +them. The burly officer was the one who sounded the alarm. He shouted +loudly as he shot his light over the raiders. Instantly the boys opened +up. With pistols flaming they charged. Stan saw the general leap ahead +and tear a rifle from the hands of a falling German. + +For a moment the action was furious, but the fire from the forty-fives +was deadly and the Germans went down or leaped away. Stan located a sack +of grenades that had been removed from the car. He took out a couple and +tossed them over toward the big gate. The result was all that he had +hoped it would be. A dozen armed guards had been standing at the gates +under shaded lights, while the machine-gun crews outside were dragging +their guns around to bring them to bear inside the yard. After the +second grenade exploded with a roar Stan saw nothing at the gate at all +except a pile of bricks where one of the entrance pillars had stood a +moment before. + +"Good going, but Tony has been hit," Allison shouted. "Better get into +the car!" + +Arno had the engine roaring while Allison and the general were sweeping +the yard with tommy-gun fire. Tony lay on the floor of the car, shoved +down to keep him clear of flying lead. From the shadows all around them +bullets were whining. Stan slid in beside Arno. He could not find a +tommy-gun, but he had the sack of grenades on his lap. Leaning out +through the window of the car he began lobbing them at the windows of +the big house. He hoped some of those he tossed would be incendiary +grenades. Arno drove parallel to the house for a short distance to give +Stan a chance with his grenades. + +The car swerved as they passed the door. Stan was able to plant a +grenade into the open door and to add another before they straightened +out for the charge at the gate. They hit the pile of loose bricks lying +in the entrance and one tire exploded. The car wobbled and careened but +shoved through the opening without turning over. + +As they smashed through, Stan saw flames leaping out of the doorway. A +gaping hole in the wall, revealed by the fire, showed where one grenade +had done its work. They had charged ahead only a few hundred yards and +were not clear of the driveway when they saw ahead of them a small tank +and two trucks. Men on foot swarmed beside the vehicle. With a roar the +whole driveway ahead burst into action. The careening car had been +sighted. Arno twisted the wheel and they plunged through a hedge and +down a steep bank where the car came to halt with its radiator smashed +against the trunk of a tree. + +"Get the tommy-guns and grenades," Stan snapped. "Get Tony out!" + +Tony was already out. "I have the wound plugged," he said in a weak +voice. "I'll manage." + +"We'll help you along," Stan said. "You lead the way, Arno." + +"I know best how to get out of here. I was here more than Arno," Tony +said. "I'll lead you." + +"Give him a hand, Arno," Stan said. "They're coming through the hedge up +above." + +Allison and Stan opened up on a group of Germans breaking through the +hedge above. Their gunfire drove the Germans back and allowed Arno and +the general time to get Tony up the bank and into the woods. + +Whirling, they ran up the bank and overtook the three who were waiting +for them. + +"Where to now?" Stan asked. + +"We have to stay in the woods and keep moving. Near the top of the +ridge we'll find a small lake. There are a number of small huts up +there. We can hide in one of them." Arno spoke quickly. + +"But they'll search every foot of the woods and every hut," Allison +objected. + +"They do a very good job of hunting down escaped men," Stan agreed. + +"We might fool them if we hide in the Sachetti villa. They would never +think of looking for us there," Tony said. + +"An excellent idea, but how can we get in without being discovered?" the +general asked. + +"There's an outside air shaft leading down into the cellars. It is +covered with vines and there is a tree growing beside it," Tony said. "I +used to be able to slide down that shaft." + +"A good idea," Stan said. He was beginning to realize that Tony would +not be able to travel very far or very fast. "Let's get going." + +"See, they are making a circle around the woods," Tony said. + +Lights were flashing above and below them. But the Germans did not seem +to think it necessary to throw a line between the woods and the house. +Arno and General Bolero helped Tony. Stan and Allison brought up the +rear. They moved through the trees and across a garden thickly planted +with shrubbery and grapevines. + +Behind them the woods were filled with German soldiers. The searchers +had fanned out into the valley below and upon the hills above the villa. + +"Here is the shaft," Tony said as they halted in the black darkness +under a tree. + +Stan could see nothing that looked like a shaft or like the roof of a +wine cellar. + +"We must be careful not to disturb the vines or the bushes." Tony +laughed softly. "Mr. Sachetti went to a great deal of trouble in hiding +the cellar and the shaft. He said they ruined the beauty of his garden." +Tony was pushing aside bushes as he spoke. Finally he called very +softly. "Come now." + +The raiders moved under the spreading branches of the tree and from +there they crawled under a leafy vine. They found an open shaft with a +high metal cone over it. Tony and Arno went down first. When the general +tried it he had trouble squeezing down the shaft. Stan was the last to +slip through. He lowered the guns and grenades to Allison before he +descended. Sliding down he found himself in total darkness. + +"Now we have to hide. The Germans will be coming down here often for +wine." Tony spoke eagerly. "We'll hide behind the vats containing the +new crop of grapes. The Germans will drink only the old wines. They are +on this side." + +Feeling their way they located a row of huge barrels and crawled in +behind them. Stan and Allison located themselves near the outside +barrel. + +"We can hear the doors open when anyone comes down here," Tony said. +"The hinges are rusty and will squeak loudly." + +"How about dressing your wound now, Tony?" General Bolero suggested. "I +will tend to it myself." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +NIGHT FLIGHT + + +The creaking hinges of the wine cellar door served as a warning signal +to the hiding men behind the wine casks. Every time a German orderly was +sent for wine they knew he was coming before he had even entered the +short passageway leading into the main room. Usually the men were sent +in pairs, sometimes three or four came. The men always had liberal +samples of the wine before filling the decanters for the officers. + +The cellar was damp and smelled of rotting wood and stale wine. The +space behind the wine casks was limited and legs developed cramps as the +night and the next day wore on. Belts had to be tightened over empty +stomachs, but there was no complaining. Tony regained his strength and +with it his belief that they would escape. + +"We can't very well climb back out of that chute," Allison said for the +tenth time. "We'll have to plan some other strategy. It's three P.M. +right now and we still don't have any ideas. We have to be up at that +wheat field by midnight." + +"I'll slip out into the hallway and have a look," Stan offered. + +"And get caught," Allison said sourly. + +Further talk was halted. The hinges of the door creaked dismally. Four +men entered and turned on the small light over the row of old wine +barrels. They talked and had a few drinks before filling the pitchers +they carried. There was much laughing and joking. When they had gone, +Allison translated their conversation. + +"We finally have some information," he said. "The Germans blame the +Italian peasants for our disappearance. They are sure the peasants +spirited us away and they are taking reprisals." + +"That is like them," General Bolero said sadly. + +"And here is the big news. The Germans figure we have escaped and will +reach the British lines in the south. They expect a bombing raid upon +this spot, similar to the one on the Bolero villa. So tonight they will +evacuate under cover of darkness and they will put this place, wine +cellar and all, to the torch before they go." Allison laughed. + +"When are they going?" Stan asked. + +"They plan to get out as soon as darkness comes to cover their movements +from our air force, which seems to have taken over the sky. As soon as +they have evacuated they will destroy the place. I gather the high +command has ordered that every place evacuated is to be destroyed in +revenge for Italy's quitting the war." + +"So. We have to get out of here by dark," General Bolero said. "And that +we will do." + +"I hope so," Stan said. + +"We will evacuate with the Germans," the general said. "That is our only +chance." + +"Right-o," Allison agreed. + +"So we may as well lay a few plans." The general seemed eager to get +into action. + +"We could shoot our way out," Tony suggested. + +"We would do better to use our heads," the general said firmly. + +"We ought to be able to take over one of the gangs sent here to get +wine. The German officers will want to haul away all of this fine wine +they can possibly take with them," Stan said. + +"Now we're beginning to get places," Allison agreed. + +For the next hour they planned and talked. Tony explained the route they +would have to take to get to the field where O'Malley was to pick them +up. No one said anything about O'Malley's not being there at midnight. +Their big worry was to get to the field themselves. + +It was well after dark, according to their watches, when things began to +happen. An officer and a squad of soldiers entered the cellar. The +officer barked commands at the men for a few minutes, then marched off. + +The raiders crowded close to Allison to learn what had been ordered. +Allison whispered his report while the men a few feet away began rolling +barrels from the racks. + +"They are taking the old wine. The new wine in these vats is to be +poured out. The barrels are to be smashed. They have a drum of gasoline +outside and will pour it into the cellar and set fire to it as they +leave." Allison paused. "They have a simple method worked out for +emptying these barrels. After the gasoline is set afire the men are to +toss a few grenades in here to smash the barrels and make certain the +cellar is destroyed." + +"We better take over right now," Stan said. "Those birds have only side +arms. We'll slide out with our tommy-guns covering them. Each take a +barrel and when I whistle step out." + +The German workmen were startled out of their wits a second or two later +when five armed men stepped out from behind barrels and covered them +with machine guns and a rifle. They stared at General Bolero, blinked +their eyes wildly, and then elevated their arms toward the ceiling. + +"Tie them up," Stan ordered. "Take the door with Arno." He nodded to +Allison. "If any more men come, cover them and bring them back here." + +Tony and the general and Stan got busy. It took a little time to bind +and gag eight men when the bonds and gags had to be ripped from their +clothing with trench knives. Before that was finished Allison and Arno +added two more noncom officers who had come in to hurry up the squad. + +"I suggest we each roll a barrel outside," General Bolero said. "We can +use them as something to hide behind if we meet resistance." + +"Good idea," Stan agreed. He turned to Tony. "Can we get out without +charging the main gate? If we rouse the Germans, we'll be in the same +spot we were in the first time we got loose." + +"I don't think so," Tony answered. + +The problem was solved by the appearance of an officer. He bellowed +angrily into the cellar, then took a step or two into the dark +passageway. That was a mistake. Allison tapped him over the head with a +gun barrel and dragged him back. + +"He says the villa has been fired. There is only a few minutes to load +up and get out." Allison laid the officer beside his men. + +"We won't tie him up. When he comes to he can free his men. I wouldn't +roast even a German," Stan snapped. "Get a barrel and let's get going." + +The floor and the passageway sloped gently down into the cellar because +the barrels always came in full and went out empty. The boys soon +discovered that it took two of them to roll a heavy barrel. They managed +to get three barrels rolling and headed for the entrance. + +Outside they found a big van with a driver who was dancing up and down +shouting. Three planks sloped up into the truck. The first barrel hit +the planking and the boys heaved it up. The driver was yelling wildly +and he had every reason to yell. The yard was as light as day. Flames +licked up all around the house and the smaller buildings blazed +furiously. The heat was intense and the smoke was thick. + +Allison snapped an order at the driver and the fellow put a shoulder +against the next barrel. No sooner had he leaned forward than Arno +tapped him over the head with his pistol butt. + +"Get our guns and the sack of grenades and flares," Stan shouted. "Arno, +you drive." + +They had two barrels in the back of the van where they could be seen. In +a moment the guns and the grenades were in the truck along with Tony, +the general, and Allison. Stan armed himself with a tommy-gun and rode +up front with Arno. + +Out at the main gate guards were shouting and waving at the van to hurry +up. No Germans remained in the courtyard. Arno started the van and they +headed for the gate. The guards wanted a ride, but Arno had gotten up +speed and did not stop. They roared down the driveway and headed out +into the road. Foot soldiers were everywhere. Arno slipped into a line +of trucks and they chugged along toward the settlement. They reached it +without mishap, though a dozen officers had shouted orders at them, and +one captain had ridden several hundred yards on their running board. The +complete blackout necessary to make a convoy movement safe helped a lot. + +Reaching the settlement, they were directed to a grove of trees where +their truck was shoved back into deep cover. + +Allison came forward and got in with Stan. When an officer came along +checking their load, he explained they had wine for the officers' mess +and suggested it be shoved deeper into the woods to keep it from being +tapped by the soldiers. The officer cleared a pathway and led them deep +into the timber beyond the rest of the convoy. He ordered the crew to +report to a designated spot and then rushed off. + +The five raiders gathered beside the truck and broke out laughing. + +"So considerate of them," Arno said. + +"I have never known the German army to be so co-operative before," the +general observed. + +"We better be on our way," Stan said. + +They gathered up their things and headed into the woods with Tony +leading the way. After an hour of searching and much argument between +him and Arno they finally located a trail and followed it. + +Stan and Allison began to suspect the boys were lost, when suddenly they +came out on a knoll. Above them, silhouetted against the starlit sky, +were the two square-topped peaks. + +"See," Tony said to Arno. "Now you must admit I was right." + +"You were, I am sorry I argued." + +"It's twenty minutes to twelve," Allison said anxiously. "How far is it +to the wheat field?" + +"Just a ten-minute walk," Tony answered. + +"We'll hit it right on the minute," Stan said eagerly. "Lead on." + +Tony led them out of the woods and into the wheat field. They checked +the wind and got out their flares. Arno took one, Tony another, while +Allison took the red center marker. + +"Clear a space so as not to set the field of wheat on fire," Arno +warned. "I'll show you how far to go." + +Stan and the general went along, carrying the guns and grenades. They +were about in the center of the field when they heard the roar of a +plane motor. Stan listened and then grinned. The engine was a powerful +radial. He was certain O'Malley was at the throttle. + +The plane swooped around and around high above while the boys got spaces +cleared and everything set. Arno called to the others and the flares +blossomed out. Looking up into the sky they waited. The plane circled +and headed in. Suddenly a barrage broke loose from a hill a half mile +away. A German battery had heard the plane and had spotted the flares. +The gunners were shooting at the flares and by the dirt they were +lifting they seemed to be getting the range. + +"He'll be blown to bits when he lands!" Arno shouted. + +"We'll have to move back or get blasted ourselves," Allison called, +breaking into a run. + +Shells were exploding close to them, kicking dirt over them, and the +barrage was swinging toward them. Overhead the plane was coming in. It +roared over their heads a few feet above the barrage. + +"Overshot it!" Tony yelled. "Now he'll have to try again." + +"And the Germans are coming!" Stan yelled. "Get set with the machine +guns!" + +When a shell burst close to Allison, he stopped running. Suddenly he +shouted, "He's fooled them! He's set down at the far edge of the field!" + +Sure enough, the plane had landed almost at the edge of the woods. It +was swinging around. They all ducked and raced toward it. Stan got there +first and was greeted by O'Malley's voice from the plane. + +"Sure, an' you got out the band for a welcome!" + +"As soon as they spot the flare of your exhausts the welcome will get +hotter!" Stan shouted back. + +Loading up was only a matter of seconds, but the Germans on the hill and +those charging down into the field had the Mosquito located and began +pounding the lower end of the field. O'Malley headed into the barrage +and hopped her off without getting a direct hit. They circled overhead +and then swung south. Stan was seated across from O'Malley. + +"Have a nice trip?" O'Malley asked with a grin. + +"We did," Stan answered. + +"I hear there'll be a flock o' tinware waitin' for you when you get in." +O'Malley continued to grin. "The boys are bettin' ten to one that you +all got shot. I'll be richer than Rockefeller when I get back." He +chuckled to himself. + +"Right now we could do with something to eat," Stan said as he leaned +back and closed his eyes. + +"Colonel Benson has a banquet spread for you. Have Allison get on the +radio and tell him to put it on the table, and have him order me two +apple pies." O'Malley opened the Mosquito up another notch as he thought +of the pies. + +Stan clicked on the intercom and got Allison. He felt, at the moment, as +though he could stand a vacation, but glancing back he saw a great fire +raging with an intensity that lighted the sky for a hundred miles. The +Germans were destroying the historical city of Naples. There would be no +vacation. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Yankee Flier in Italy, by +Rutherford G. Montgomery + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER IN ITALY *** + +***** This file should be named 32288.txt or 32288.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/8/32288/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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