Outside an abandoned brewery in Metz last week SS troopers fought desperately against the advancing Americans. Inside, Sergeant Leonard O'Reilly saw a pair of beady eyes peering at him from a dark corner, flushed out a shiny-booted, handsomely uniformed German. Cringing no longer, the prisoner strutted about, barked orders: he would not surrender to a sergeantgo get an officer of high rank. O'Reilly's response: a pistol poke in the German's ample belly. He meekly joined the other prisoners.
Not until next day did O'Reilly, onetime elevator operator from Brooklyn, learn what a fat cat he had caught. His prisoner was Major General...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
