"Gee!" Dave breathed softly. "Right here in this place, tonight?"
The medical officer nodded and held up a hand.
"Hear those guns?" he said gravely. "They are not more than twenty miles away, and they are German. We've got to work fast, boys. Every man we have to leave here will become a German prisoner of war. I wouldn't ask you, except that the situation is desperate. By rights, you two should go along with the wounded, instead of driving them. But it is a grave emergency, and every one who can, must help."
"We're ready, sir," Freddy said quietly. "What are your orders?"
A smile of deep gratitude flickered across the officer's face.
"Get into your regular clothes, first," he said with a smile. "Then report to Lieutenant Baker in the ambulance parking lot by the south wing. And, thank you, boys. We'll meet again at St. Omer."
The two boys grinned, then turned on their heels and raced back to the ward for their clothes. The wounded soldiers suspected that something was up, and a hundred questions were hurled at them. They didn't bother to answer any of them. They simply piled into their clothes and hurried outside and around to the parking lot by the south wing.
"Gee, Freddy!" Dave panted as they raced along side by side. "I was afraid I was going to stay in that hospital for the rest of the war, and not get another chance to do anything."
"A bit worried, myself," Freddy said. "I was afraid that we'd done our job, and that it was all over as far as we were concerned. But, I have a feeling, Dave, that perhaps it's really just beginning for us."
And Freddy Farmer never spoke a truer word in his life, as they were both soon to realize!