The Rome Escape Line by Sam Derry

The Rome Escape Line by Sam Derry

Author:Sam Derry [Derry, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Military, United States, Europe, General, Germany, Special Forces
ISBN: 9781839741166
Google: KPnCDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Pickle Partners Publishing
Published: 2019-12-06T16:07:42+00:00


8. Homing Pigeon and Caged Lion

BEAMING all over his benign face, almost bouncing with excitement, and obviously bubbling over with delight, Monsignor O’Flaherty burst into my room, thrust a scrap of paper towards me, and commanded, “Just read that, me boy!”

It was February 14, but I had scarcely expected that it would bring me a Valentine. Uncertainly, suspecting some sort of a prank, I unfolded the paper, and immediately recognized the small, neat writing.

Back in Rome [it said]. Where the hell are you? Only consolation for my sore arse will be when I see your smiling face.

JOHN

I could not believe it. Was John Furman really back in Rome? “It’s true all right, me boy,” grinned the monsignor. “I’ve seen him with my own two eyes, and talked to him as I am talking to you now.”

“But this is marvelous news! It seems like a miracle!”

“It is that,” Monsignor O’Flaherty agreed. “But I think John rather helped it on its way.”

“Nothing could surprise me less. How did he manage it this time?”

“Took a leaf out of your book, so far as I can gather—hacked a hole in a train, and jumped out. Then he and another chap named Johnstone rode bicycles here up and down mountains from the other end of Italy.”

“That explains his cryptic comment,” I laughed. “Monsignor, do you know, these last few days I’ve been thinking of myself calling on John’s wife, and telling her that he got shot as a spy or something, because of a job I let him in for. Not the sort of thing one looks forward to, I can tell you. But I should have known better—I should have known they could never hold a chap like John for long. How is he—apart from the complaint he mentions?”

“Furious because he can’t get straight in to see you,” answered the monsignor. “But seriously, I imagine all this unorthodox traveling has not done his dysentery much good. He needs a bit of building up, and a few nights in a comfortable bed.”

Meanwhile Furman and the other man were having their first good meal for weeks. I wished I could have gone with the monsignor to see them, and half hoped he might suggest some means of smuggling me out of the legation, but I was a prisoner, not just as a matter of expediency, but also as a matter of honor. It was practical common sense that I should not allow the cloak to slip from the secret of my existence while 2500 escapers and evaders, scattered in and around Rome, depended for the maintenance of their freedom on the organization. There was also the information service, which was of some value to the Allies, and I had to remember that a moment of carelessness on my part might lead to such extreme measures as the expulsion of the British Minister, the closure of the legation, and the collapse of the whole organization. It would not have been hard to talk the monsignor into lending



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