They slid through and, paused. "Where's Tony and Arno?" Stan asked.
"In the shed next to ours," Allison answered. "They were captured the day we were shot down."
"Sure, an' if you'll wait I'll go beat down the door," O'Malley whispered.
"We'll all go," Stan answered. "We'll batter open both prisons."
The three, keeping close together, circled and charged into the mass of milling Germans. They were not spotted because there was little light. Flashlight beams stabbed here and there, but none of the fingers of light found the three Yanks. They actually shouldered their way to within a few yards of the first door.
"I'll take this one, you and O'Malley take the other. I'll clear the way with the tommy-gun," Stan hissed.
He opened up with a burst of fire which scattered the Germans, then charged the door. O'Malley and Allison smashed the other door. Stan heard the shouts of the prisoners as they piled out. He backed away as men lunged out of the building he had opened. Stan thanked his luck that the doors had been built out of light plywood. He leaped aside and turned his submachine gun on the Germans. He swung his arc of fire across the yard and sent the Nazis charging for cover.
Ceasing his fire he ducked for the hole in the hedge. Allison was already there, but O'Malley had not showed up.
"Hope he hasn't gotten any crazy ideas," Stan growled.
"He probably has," Allison said. "How'd you douse the lights?"