Rutherford Montgomery - A Yankee Flier in Italy

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.

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.