Once more the American machine guns poured their hail of lead into the shack, followed by another burst from the woods to the right.
“That’ll be Lefty and his bunch,” Dick smiled. “And I guess the Nazis don’t like it.”
It was obvious they did not like it, nor the third burst from below them on the left. Bert’s group had joined the fray. The Germans had Americans on three sides and a large reservoir behind them. It did not take them long to make up their minds what to do. A white cloth tied to the end of a rifle was thrust through the little window of the shack.
“I guess they didn’t have many guys there,” Max said. “They sure gave up easy.”
Dick led his group forward to the edge of the woods and called from there, “All right, come out with your hands up—on to the wall of the dam.”
The door of the shack opened and three German soldiers marched out, throwing their guns to the ground and raising their hands as they did so. They stepped over the body of their companion who had tried to reach the shack but failed.
“Is that all?” Dick demanded, with a shout.
“Ya, ya—all, all!” one of the Germans called back.
“Funny—but I don’t believe him,” Dick muttered to Max. Then he called to the German again.
“Okay, then pick up that machine pistol of yours and fire a few bursts into the shack!”