Stan moved back but got ready to help the general. A bulky form swung down from the roof, then fell, landing with a thud beside Stan. Stan helped the general to a sitting position.
“Are you hurt?”
“Only slightly jarred,” the general assured him.
The others dropped off in a hurry. They crowded around Stan. “Now to get to our car,” Stan said.
They slid off the back of the van. It was parked a yard from the wall of the house. Other vans stood beside it as closely as they could be packed in. The raiders moved along the wall, halting behind the last van. The car they wanted to reach was only a few feet away, but it was surrounded by a squad of men. Flashlight beams stabbed into the car and men talked excitedly.
Inside the house there was a great uproar as the Germans searched for the missing men. Tony chuckled, then whispered:
“Little Don Sachetti and I used to get spanked for sneaking through that window and climbing the trellis.”
“We had better take over that car and our guns and grenades. This is the best chance we’ll ever have. Most of the Germans are in the house,” Stan said.
“Don Sachetti was executed yesterday. I think he would rest better if we tossed a few grenades through the windows of his home,” the general said. “By all means let us proceed with the capture of the car and matériel.”
“You drive, Arno,” Stan ordered. “Fan out, boys, and start shooting when they spot us.” He turned to the general. “Sorry, sir, that we do not have a gun for you.”