Allison gave him a quick look. “Been eavesdropping?”

“An ill wind brought me a word from that general. We’re hitting it back to Bizerte.”

“I say, old chap, you know I’m going where I can have two hot baths a day. I’ll have a barber shave me and I’ll have breakfast served in bed. You run along back to Bizerte, but I’m going on to Alexandria.”

“The attack on Italy is set for tomorrow morning. The general is going back and I’m going with him. O’Malley isn’t going to hog this show.”

Allison halted and stared at Stan. Suddenly his twisted smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “If you put it that way, I guess I’m going back to Bizerte, too.”

“The general has radioed for a plane to take him back. This delay has upset his schedule and he won’t go on. We’ll go back with him. Let’s collar the old boy.”

“We are under orders to report to Alexandria,” Allison reminded him.

“The general doesn’t know what our orders are. We can worry about little things like that after we get back,” Stan said impatiently.

They walked across the slope to where the general was standing. There were four officers with him, three colonels and a major.

“Could we have a word with you, sir?” Stan asked as he snapped a salute.

“Certainly,” General Miller said.

“We have decided to return to Bizerte and wondered if you could say a word for us if a westbound plane stops here. This delay will upset our plans and we might as well go back.”

The general looked at Stan sharply. “What made you change your plans, besides this accident?”

Stan grinned. He did not dare admit that he had overheard the general talking.

“The farther we get from the base of action, the more jittery we get,” he replied.

“You fellows have to be ordered to take leave,” General Miller said and smiled. “Do your orders allow you such freedom of action?”