Slim snapped out the pistol. “Listen,” he demanded, “what gives here?”
The German said, “I haf vanted to giff up a long time now. I am glad you haff come.”
“Well,” Slim shrugged, “maybe you can explain that to the captain. Come on. March ahead of me to that schoolhouse yonder.”
When they reached the food dump, the prisoner was put under guard. Meanwhile Slim carried out the captain’s orders for food supplies. Slim pointed to the stacked cartons he had piled in the corner of the schoolhouse. “See nobody lays a hand on that. A jeep’ll be over to pick it up within an hour,” he told the commissary sergeant. He also asked for an extra guard to accompany them back to the captain. “He says he wants to give hisself up,” Slim said, “but how do we know he’s on the level?”
Drawing his own gun, Slim added to André, as he led the way, “Wouldn’t our flack gunners like to get a look at this Luftwaffe fellow?”
The prisoner smiled wryly. “Your flack gunners already haff seen me,” he said. “That is vhy I am here.”
On their return, Captain Dobie greeted the German with surprising enthusiasm. “I am delighted to see you,” he said. “You had us worried.”
“I vas vorried myself, sir,” the pilot replied.
A few minutes later the prisoner was dispatched to an interrogation center by jeep, with Weller and a guard.
Captain Dobie suggested that André find M. Blanc and tell him that the village could forget about that particular German pilot. “Glad to have him off my mind,” the captain added.