André, at the captain’s suggestion, went out to survey the road and report any sight of the enemy. “Here, take my helmet,” offered the captain. “There’s too much stuff falling out of the sky.”
The thud of heavy explosions beyond the village continued to rock the earth.
André had been on watch but a few minutes when he sighted a car. He called back through the window, “Jeep coming, sir—from the coast.”
Slim, who had been relieved of his guard duty by Cimino, rushed out to join André.
The little car swung in toward the two, and braked with a screech. Slim shouted, “Weller! Where’ja get that!”
Sergeant Weller was eyeing the wrecked German tanks.
“Well, Texas,” he smiled approvingly, “good thing I left you here.”
He slid out of the seat. “Lucky those two tanks didn’t get through to hit us from behind,” he said. “We’ve sure had our hands full down there. The Heinies came at us from all sides. But, for some reason, one of the causeways across the swamps was unguarded.”
“We got some prisoners for you, out back,” Slim announced. “And you better report to the cap’n,” he added. “He’s restless as a hungry puppy. Ain’t had a word from anybody higher up. Didn’t come across our colonel, did you?”
“That’s what I came back for,” said Weller. “Saw him and told him about this command post. He’s feelin’ good. We’ve taken two bridgeheads.”