truck and it was rumbling away along a paved road. A few minutes later Stan groaned and opened his eyes. The truck was so packed with soldiers that he was forced to sit up, even though he had been out limp and cold. His head throbbed and felt twice its normal size. Turning it a little he could look out over the side of the truck. They were rolling along a winding road, climbing in low gear. Looking back Stan saw the battlefield they had just left.

The Yank airborne troops had swarmed onto the airfield. Already two big Yank planes had landed and men were spilling out to take over the field. With a groan Stan looked up. Twisting his head caused pains to shoot up and down his neck. He saw that the paratroopers were still coming in. A field of white chutes filled the air, while behind them dropped the varicolored chutes carrying equipment and ammunition. Gliders were casting off their toggle hooks and swooping earthward. Equipped with tommy-guns, folding rifles, mortars, folding bicycles, bazookas, and light artillery, the air soldiers swarmed down.Suddenly excited shouts from the Italians in the truck made Stan look up again. A fighter-bomber was roaring down toward the truck. Stan saw that there were three trucks in the group and that they were closely bunched, an ideal target for the diving Yank. Grimly he watched the hundred-pound egg slide free as the bomber lifted and zoomed upward. The deadly missile seemed to hang in the air for a moment, though it grew bigger and bigger every second. It appeared to be aimed straight at the last truck in line, which was their transport. Stan looked about for Allison and O'Malley. His pals were standing against the side of the truck, wedged in by soldiers. They both looked weak and shaken. O'Malley was almost without clothes. Then the bomb hit. It landed in a bank just behind the truck. A great upheaval of earth and rocks lifted into the air and showered over the truck. One rear tire exploded with a bang and the truck began to wobble and jolt as it swayed along. Then they broke over the top of the ridge and went careening down a steep slope. Five minutes later they had reached cover in an avenue of trees. But the Italians did not halt for repairs. They wanted to put as many miles as possible between them and the Yank air army before their gas ran out. An hour later the truck limped into another airfield which had not been attacked. It was tucked away in a circle of hills with wooded slopes reaching down to a little valley. Here they found they had overtaken General Bolero. He was out on the field rushing about, shouting orders and apparently getting ready to take off again. His staff was trailing him about, with their bundles and briefcases and files. Stan and his 

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