Scotti turned away as Dick Donnelly headed for the group of men from his own plane. He went from one to the other asking each one first if he wanted to volunteer for a good tough job. When each one eagerly said, “Yes,” Dick next asked how well the volunteer could swim. He questioned each one earnestly as to just exactly how well he could handle himself in the water. Then he picked the men who were sure they could swim well. Max Burckhardt was among them, pointing out that he had been swimming instructor at a boys’ camp for several years when he was younger.
“Will I get the most fighting going with you or staying here?” Max asked.
“With me,” Dick replied. “Even though it will be plenty hot here. We’ll probably be outnumbered about forty to one.”
“Then count me in,” Max said, “and I’ll get my forty!”
“We travel light,” Dick said. “Each man with a sub-machine gun and plenty of ammunition. And chuck a few extra cans of rations in your shirt front.”
In five more minutes Dick Donnelly had his twenty men lined up. He reported briefly to Lieutenant Scotti.
“We’re on our way, sir,” he said.
“Got your walkie-talkie?” Scotti asked.
“Yes, and a good man with it,” Dick said. “But if things get tough, we may not bring it back with us.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Scotti said. “Just bring yourselves back.”