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."

Stan grinned. He reached up and disconnected the wire leading to the
instrument.

"They listen all the time," Hans said. "They watch everyone. There is
more Gestapo than guards."

"Nice country to live in," Stan remarked.

O'Malley laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin.

"Sure, an' it needs a bit o' cleaning up," he said.

Hans looked at him nervously. "You think the British and Americans come
soon?" he asked.

"If they're later than next week, I'll be after speakin' to a few
generals harsh-like," O'Malley answered.

"Perhaps not next week but soon," Stan said.

"I am not a party member. I will go back to my little farm near Pilsen,"
Hans said, "if it is permitted."

"It could be fixed that way," Stan said and smiled. "Silence is golden,
but too much of it might make the Gestapo boys suspicious." He walked
to the picture of Hitler and connected the microphone again.

"You will report at once for mess. Heil Hitler!" Hans clicked his heels
and did an about-face. He moved out of the room almost goose-stepping.
Stan grinned after him.

"Get up, you bum," he called to O'Malley.

O'Malley got out of bed and began dressing. Within ten minutes they were
in the hall. As they walked down it they passed no less than three
pictures of Hitler hanging on the walls. O'Malley moved every one of
them and peered behind it.

"I don't like the scenery here," he grumbled.

The mess was a large room which once had been a living room and dining
room combined. There were twenty prisoners, mostly R.A.F. men, all of
officer's rank. They looked bored and listless, but they greeted the new
arrivals with friendly interest. Sim was seated at the table. He looked
up and nodded.

Breakfast was not bad and the boys ate everything set before them. After
breakfast the men went out into the yard. The sun was shining and the
air was warm, but there was a feel of winter in the wind which