“Yank word for machine,” Stan explained.
“No, I have never seen one before,” Swen replied.
Herr Domber stood around for a little while, then made off. Stan grinned at Swen. He had decided to work upon the kid. There might be a chance to do something. Swen, like most young Germans, was deadly afraid of being sent to the Russian front. It might be that he secretly hated the men who bossed him.
At the next bench a tall mechanic was working with a part from a Spitfire. Stan moved over to the edge of his bench.
“Hand me that wrench,” he said to the tall German.
The German reached over and handed Stan the wrench. Suddenly his face became very red and he spoke angrily in German.
“Thanks, buddy,” Stan said. “I’m glad you speak American.”
The German shrugged his shoulders and went on working. Swen looked at Stan and said:
“I am your helper. I could have handed you that wrench.”
“I just wanted to be sure Heinie, here, could understand everything we say. I noticed that he was just playing with that oil gauge. It’s an old type that’s been out of use for four years.”