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