Disclaimer: I do not own the Rat Patrol or profit from writing.
Author's Note: I realized I didn't explain where the Arab had gotten the ice cream maker, so this is my attempt at explaining it.
Italics note words spoken in Arabic.
Hauptmann Hans Dietrich sighed. He looked down at the ice cream maker in his hands. How Schneider had managed to construct this machine was a mystery to him.
"It was quite easy, Herr Hauptmann," the Corporal had said. "I had worked in a drugstore before the war. They had used something like this to make their ice cream."
"I understand that, Schneider, but how did you make it without having a picture?"
"Oh, I did have a picture, Hauptmann Dietrich." Schneider withdrew a wrinkled black and white photo from his pocket and handed it to Dietrich.
Dietrich looked at the photo. A very young Schneider stood in front an ice cream maker with someone who looked to be his boss. "Half of this ice cream maker is covered, Schneider. I would hardly consider that an adequate picture to copy an ice cream from."
"Well, I have made several of them."
"You mean you've made these before?"
The Corporal nodded, "That's how I made extra money."
Dietrich smiled, "While admire your ingenuity, this cannot be allowed to happen right now. A General is coming for an inspection. An ice cream maker would raise eyebrows. You may go."
Schneider hesitated, "You're not mad, Herr Hauptmann?"
"Of course not. I can hardly blame you for wanting ice cream when it's so hot out. Perhaps you can make another one of these when the General leaves. For now, though, no ice cream."
Later that day, Dietrich still hadn't figured out what to do with the ice cream maker. While he was contemplating what to do with it, a knock was heard.
"Come in."
The door opened and Schneider entered the room followed by an Arab.
"This man is here to receive the money promised to him for the information of the Allied radio station," informed the Corporal.
"Ah, yes. Get the money please, Schneider." A sudden inspiration struck him. He turned to the Arab merchant.
"Would you like-" here he struggled to find the right word for 'ice cream maker'. At last he gave up and just picked it up instead. "Would you take this also?"
He eyed Dietrich suspiciously. "What would I do with it?"
"You could sell it."
"How much do you want for it?"
"You may just take it."
He thought for a minute. What was the harm? Finally, he agreed. He took the ice cream maker and the money. He left.
Dietrich sighed. Well, that took care of that.
The Arab put the ice cream maker among his other items. He shook his head. What was this strange machine? Who would ever buy it?
