have let you sleep because you were very tired.”
“That was nice of you,” Stan said.
“I am goot to prisoners,” Hans said.
Stan swung his feet to the floor. He got out of bed and walked across the room. Flipping a picture of Hitler aside, he exposed the microphone in the wall. Hans rolled his eyes and clicked his heels.
“Heil Hitler!” he almost shouted. “Tomorrow you will get out of bed and be down in the yard by seven.”
Stan grinned. He reached up and disconnected the wire leading to the instrument.
“They listen all the time,” Hans said. “They watch everyone. There is more Gestapo than guards.”
“Nice country to live in,” Stan remarked.
O’Malley laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin.
“Sure, an’ it needs a bit o’ cleaning up,” he said.
Hans looked at him nervously. “You think the British and Americans come soon?” he asked.
“If they’re later than next week, I’ll be after speakin’ to a few generals harsh-like,” O’Malley answered.
“Perhaps not next week but soon,” Stan said.
“I am not a party member. I will go back to my little farm near Pilsen,” Hans said, “if it is permitted.”
“It could be fixed that way,” Stan said and smiled. “Silence is golden, but too much of it might make the Gestapo boys suspicious.” He walked to the picture of Hitler and connected the microphone again.
“You will report at once for mess. Heil Hitler!” Hans clicked his heels and did an about-face. He moved out of the room almost goose-stepping. Stan grinned after him.
“Get up, you bum,” he called to O’Malley.
O’Malley got out of bed and began dressing. Within ten minutes they were in the hall. As they walked down it they passed no less than three pictures of Hitler hanging on the walls. O’Malley moved every one of them and peered behind it.
“I don’t like the scenery here,” he grumbled.
The mess was a large room which once had been a living room and dining room combined. There were twenty prisoners, mostly R.A.F. men, all of officer’s rank. They looked bored and listless, but they greeted the new arrivals with friendly interest. Sim was seated at the table. He looked up and nodded.
Breakfast was not bad and the boys ate everything set before them. After breakfast the men went out into the yard. The sun was shining and the air was warm, but there was a feel of winter in the wind which blew over the high wall.
Stan and O’Malley sat down on a bench with Sim. The other men busied themselves with handball and quoits. Sim bent down and traced a line with a stick in the dirt.
“I have everything lined up. We get away tonight. A British colonel is giving a lecture in the big room at nine tonight. I have fixed the checker. We’ll get away while that is on.” Sim did not look up.
“Hans is the checker?” O’Malley asked.
“Yes.”
“Sure this isn’t a trap? Things have been working too good around here,” Stan said.
“This will not be easy,” Sim answered in a low voice. “The chances are about even we’ll be shot before we get clear of the wire and the guard lines. These guards do not shout at you, they shoot and then yell.” Sim laughed shortly. “But I’d rather be shot than rot here.”
“Sure, an’ that’s me, too,” O’Malley agreed.
“We’ll be ready,” Stan answered.
“You cannot take anything with you,” Sim warned. “Now we have to break up. The guards are watching us.” He got to his feet and walked away.
“I think he’s acting nuts for the benefit of the guards,” O’Malley said.
“If it turns out he really is nuts, we may find ourselves messed up with lead,” Stan answered. He got up and walked over to where the R.A.F. boys were pitching quoits.
“Care to get in?” a captain asked him.
“Thanks, I’ll have a try,” Stan answered.
O’Malley stretched out on the bench and went to sleep. He slept through until lunch call was sounded. Stan mixed with the British officers and learned what he could about conditions. He got their names so he could report regarding them if he did get away.
The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O’Malley went to their room. Sim was not there.
“I didn’t see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?” Stan whispered.
“You worry too much about him,” O’Malley answered. “I bet he’s snoopin’ around gettin’ set to get us away.”
Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he did not come to the room. At eight o’clock Stan began to squirm.
“They’ve probably nabbed him,” he said sourly.
“Sure, an’ I’ll start working on Hans if they have.”
They had been speaking in very low tones. Now Stan spoke louder. “Better be getting ready to go to that lecture.”
“Sure,” O’Malley agreed.
The boys settled down to wait. O’Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand.
At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O’Malley was pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there.
“I am glad you have not yet gone to the lecture,” he said. “Herr General wishes to speak to you. You will come with me.”
Stan looked at O’Malley and O’Malley looked at Stan. Stan spoke smoothly.
“Couldn’t we see the general after the lecture? We’d like very much to hear the colonel.”
“It will not wait. Herr General is a very impatient man.”
There was nothing to do but go with Hans. Stan and O’Malley walked along the hallway with the corporal, keeping a sharp watch for Sim. They did not see him in the hallway or downstairs. Hans took them past the guards at the outer garden gate and across the street to another house. In a small hall room he nodded toward chairs.
“You will be called,” he said, then turned and hurried away.
The outer door was open and the boys could see two sentries standing on the front porch.
“We have to get out o’ here,” O’Malley said.
“Not a chance. There’s no window and those two guards would see us before we got within ten feet of them,” Stan answered. “It’s just a case of sitting tight and hoping Sim waits for us.”
Near where they were sitting a door opened into another room. Stan leaned over and looked at the door. It was not latched firmly and was open about a half inch. He could hear men talking in the other room. They were speaking in German.
“You understand German. Listen to what they are saying,” Stan whispered.
O’Malley moved closer and listened. The men seemed to be arguing hotly. Every once in a while one voice would be raised in anger. There were three men in the room. O’Malley edged the door open a bit more and peeped into the room.
After a bit he straightened and grinned at Stan. “Sure, an’ the general is eatin’ the tails off his staff. Some of ’em seem to think the war is lost. They been tellin’ him the German people are demandin’ peace at any price. I figure he’s goin’ to have one o’ them shot.”
At that moment an orderly came rushing out of the office. He charged past the boys without seeming to see them, and rushed out of the building.
“The general says if this leaks out, the Allies will invade at once. He’s sure mad.” O’Malley laughed
