NIGHT RAID
Arno did not put on his brakes until he had forced the guards at the gate back two paces. Allison leaned out over the door, his cap pulled down over his eyes. He bellowed loudly in German, blurring a string of words together and winding up with the password from the outside post. He was taking a chance that that was the password for the whole area.
The guards backed away, presented arms, and jerked into stiff positions of attention. Arno lost no time in shooting the car through the gates. They entered a shadowy courtyard where the light was dim. The Yank raid on Bolero Villa, just over the hill, had caused every post in the vicinity to be blacked out.
“We are under the window of the room,” Arno said in a low voice.
“There’s a guard down the wall a ways,” Allison said. “I’ll give you fellows a calling-down in German to make the guard think I’m really on the warpath, then we’ll march right in.”
“Perhaps I had better try the window while you are trying the door,” Tony said. “You might have trouble. There will be plenty of light inside.”
Allison raised his voice and began berating the boys in German. “ Schwinehund! ” he bellowed and followed that up with other choice words of abuse. He had a bright idea and added that he was going to find the man who had handled the blackout. He said he could see light from the back hallway all the way out to the road.
Instantly they heard the guard moving toward the back door.
“Now’s our chance,” Allison whispered. “I said we could see light from the back hallway. We’ll make them douse the lights.”
They headed toward the back door and stomped up the wide steps. The guard opened the door and they saw that the hallway was dark. Allison roared at the fellow and he came to a stiff salute, presenting arms.