"Shut up!" Freddy whispered out the corner of his mouth. "Here they come! For goodness' sake don't keep your hand near your automatic. The blighters have their rifles trained right on us."
It was true. A squad of Nazi desert troops, led by a corporal, came dashing across the sand toward them with rifles held up and ready to shoot.
"Lady Luck, stay with us, please!" Dave whispered softly as he and Freddy lurched forward a few more steps.
[CHAPTER ELEVEN]
Prisoners by Request
"Halt!"
The order barked in German was akin to the crash of a rifle shot. The two boys reeled forward one more step and then lifted their heads and stared in surprise at the German non-commissioned officer who stood straddle-legged in the sand directly in front of them. There was a service Luger in his belt holster, but he wasn't using it. Instead he held a short-barreled, rapid fire Mauser in his hands.
"Put up your hands!" he snarled in German.
Neither of the boys moved. They continued to stare at him in bewildered dismay. Then Dave gave a little confused shake of his head.
"Germans!" he choked out. "These aren't our chaps, Freddy. We've run into Germans. We've been captured! Oh, blast our luck!"