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 thegeneral, as he was busy attending to the fortification of the Salernoand Naples water fronts. When they did see him, he always spoke withlittle respect for his German allies. Stan and Allison liked thegeneral, but O'Malley did not warm up to him. The Irishman had neverliked high-ranking officers. To him they were always brass hats.
The days passed slowly. The boys had a small radio and always tuned inthe Algiers radio station for news of the Allied attack upon Sicily. Thenews of the fighting made them squirm, and for hours after listening toa military report of the advance of Patton and Montgomery they paced thefloor. O'Malley was especially restless. He marked each day off on thecalendar and planned his escape.
On the twenty-seventh day the boys were seated on a shady balcony fromwhich they could look down toward the city of Naples. Directly below thegrounds of their villa were the headquarters and general assembly fieldsof the Germans. They seemed to be present in considerable strength. Stansat with his feet on a railing. Allison was near the railing. O'Malleywas 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, youcan 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 stayuntil one minute after midnight of the thirtieth day," Stan said firmly.
"I'm goin' crazy," O'Malley growled, "sittin' around here listenin' toair fights. There won't be a German plane left to tangle with by thetime we get back into it." He sat up and scowled down at the Germancamp. "Besides, these Italians can't make decent pie."
The boys laughed and O'Malley joined in. Behind them a curtain partedand four officers stepped out on the balcony. The general was payingthem a visit and he had with him three flying officers of the Italianair force.
The Yanks got to their feet. The general smiled in friendly fashion andwaved a hand toward the three fliers.
"I have brought three of my boys, Tony Bolero, Arno Bolero and LorenzoBolero. 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 seatedhimself and puffed out his cheeks as he fished a thick envelope from hispocket.
"What I am about to say is most unusual. I have a request to make of youAmericans. I wish you to extend your parole." He lifted a hand asO'Malley opened his mouth to say no. "I feel that you should do thisafter 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 myboys here and they will be with you during the time you stay here." Hissmile faded and he suddenly looked tired and old. "I ask this for apersonal reason. Perhaps I am selfish."
"You saved our lives, sir," Allison said. "I'm giving my parole for awhile 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 incustody 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 theGermans." He got to his feet. "Now I must be getting back toheadquarters. 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 ofhis sons. At the doorway he paused and they all gave him a snappysalute. After he was gone the Bolero boys were silent. They stood at thebalcony looking down on the shady road until his car disappeared insidethe German camp. Lorenzo turned to Stan and there was a tight smile onhis 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 Yanksin smooth English. They had learned the language in Great Britain.O'Malley sat back and said nothing. Stan and Allison carried on thetalk. The war was not mentioned again. Allison and the brothers talkedabout 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 bythat 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 wageryou 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 rightnow. He'll have to turn you over to the Germans. This part of thecountry 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 acamp about five minutes before our parole is up?" O'Malley asked.
"He could do that anyway," Stan answered. "We've waited a month. A fewmore days won't kill us. I have a feeling Allison is right."
"The Italians have thrown Mussolini out, perhaps they will startthrowing 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 waitand see." Stan walked to the balcony rail and seated himself.
That night at dinner the Bolero brothers were quite gay. And for thenext few days they were always around, but always friendly and polite.Stan wondered why they were not at the front. Italy certainly neededevery pilot she had. He did not think that the officers had beendetailed to watch them.
The parole day came and a guard arrived in the morning. The three Yankssaw a squad of Italian soldiers headed by a young officer halt in theyard below. O'Malley sat on the rail, watching. The young officer cameto 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 mebetter judgment."
The officer bowed. "I am pleased," he said. "I will report this to thegeneral." He bowed again and turned on his heel.
Stan looked at O'Malley. "I thought you'd get some sense into thatshaggy 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."
A Yankee Flier in Italy Page 7