The colonel's smile faded and he eyed O'Malley sternly. "I'm listening," he said warily.
"General Bolero has to be rescued from them Germans. They may decide to shoot him."
The colonel looked suddenly very unhappy, "That is really a job I am not supposed to handle. After all, I am only a sector commander and not in charge of the war in the Mediterranean area."
"It could be done aisy," O'Malley said. "I'd like to have the job."
The colonel regarded O'Malley grimly. "I don't doubt but you would do it. However, there is some little risk. While you men are reporting to headquarters, Lieutenant Wilson and I will be giving the matter our consideration." He got to his feet. "Wilson, you see that our friends are outfitted. Get cleaned up and have a big feed." He nodded toward O'Malley. "I have set aside a supply of pie for you, Lieutenant."
The party saluted and made off. O'Malley was not too happy. "If you sneak off alone to get the general, I'll thrash the daylights out o' you when I get back from seein' the brass hats," he growled.
"I won't take on the whole German army alone," Stan assured him. "I'll see that you're in on it."
"You better," O'Malley warned sourly.
They found their quarters and all headed for the showers. O'Malley wanted to eat first but they talked him out of the idea.