REST CURE
General Bolero took his prisoners to a villa a few miles from Naples. Here they had comfortable quarters and good food. They saw little of the general, as he was busy attending to the fortification of the Salerno and Naples water fronts. When they did see him, he always spoke with little respect for his German allies. Stan and Allison liked the general, but O'Malley did not warm up to him. The Irishman had never liked high-ranking officers. To him they were always brass hats.
The days passed slowly. The boys had a small radio and always tuned in the Algiers radio station for news of the Allied attack upon Sicily. The news of the fighting made them squirm, and for hours after listening to a military report of the advance of Patton and Montgomery they paced the floor. O'Malley was especially restless. He marked each day off on the calendar and planned his escape.
On the twenty-seventh day the boys were seated on a shady balcony from which they could look down toward the city of Naples. Directly below the grounds of their villa were the headquarters and general assembly fields of the Germans. They seemed to be present in considerable strength. Stan sat with his feet on a railing. Allison was near the railing. O'Malley was sprawled out in an easy chair.
"Sure, an' it will be no trick at all to get away," he said.
"Before our parole is up the general will make other plans for us, you can bet on that," Stan answered.
"I'll bet we're locked up," Allison added.
"We could sneak out a bit ahead o' time," O'Malley suggested.
"The general has treated us very fine, besides saving our lives. We stay until one minute after midnight of the thirtieth day," Stan said firmly.
"I'm goin' crazy," O'Malley growled, "sittin' around here listenin' to air fights. There won't be a German plane left to tangle with by the time we get back into it." He sat up and scowled down at the German camp. "Besides, these Italians can't make decent pie."