"We wish to know the approximate number of fighter and bomber craft based upon Africa. It would be helpful if you could add information regarding additional troops moved in to assist in the action against Italy."
Stan smiled. "My compliments to the colonel. Tell him I am not at liberty to give such information."
The officer scowled. He translated and the colonel smiled back at Stan.
"That will be all," the young officer snapped. It was plain the young officer did not like the way his commander was handling matters.
Stan was marched back to his cell. The young officer hurried away. When he was out of hearing, Stan spoke in low tones to his pals. He now noticed that the Italians seemed interested and were trying to listen.
"The old boy with the scar is commander. He's a Prussian officer of the old school and does not think much of the Nazi methods. He seems to have convinced himself that we are really officers and told the truth about our clothes."
"I'll get more dope," Allison said. "I can understand their talk."
A few minutes later the young officer returned and took Allison to the office. O'Malley and Stan sat waiting for his return. The Italians sat with their backs against the wall in silence. Fifteen minutes passed and then Allison returned. The boys went into a huddle.
"The colonel is not in favor of using the third degree on us. He says he has reports on us from the Italians and knows we are prisoners of war. He said all this in German. The young lieutenant seems to be in with the Gestapo. I gathered that they hate each other." Allison paused and grinned. "The old boy told him off plenty, but the kid is stubborn. He's going over the head of the colonel, so we may have trouble."
"Sure, an' I'll bet the colonel can get tough, just the same," O'Malley cut in.