Peter looked up into the sky where small white parachutes wafted in the night breeze, slowly taking their precious cargo to the earth.
“Get ready to recover the drops. We don’t want them to fall into enemy hands,” he ordered his men. Hours later they had hauled dozens of crates to the ammunition storage and opened the booty with excited faces. Peter looked at his men and smiled. They truly were boys. Not only in age, but also in attitude. And judging by the way they behaved, today could have been Christmas Day. They opened the canisters and found everything they’d been wishing for: weapons, ammunition, food and medical supplies.
A friendly quarrel ensued as to who would get one of the Stens and who would have to do with the smaller guns, but finally every man in his unit owned his own we
