A knock sounded upon the door. "Come in," Stan called.
O'Malley sat up in bed suddenly, pawing the blankets away from his shoulders. He stared around the room, then scowled. The door opened and a Nazi corporal entered.
"Heil Hitler!" he said very loudly and clicked his heels together.
"Good morning," Stan greeted.
O'Malley just glared at the corporal.
"I am Hans." The Nazi looked behind him, sticking his head out so that he could see up and down the hall. He closed the door. "It is orders of Herr General that prisoners be up and taking exercises by seven each morning. I have let you sleep because you were very tired."
"That was nice of you," Stan said.
"I am goot to prisoners," Hans said.
Stan swung his feet to the floor. He got out of bed and walked across the room. Flipping a picture of Hitler aside, he exposed the microphone in the wall. Hans rolled his eyes and clicked his heels.
"Heil Hitler!" he almost shouted. "Tomorrow you will get out of bed and be down in the yard by seven."