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.