Later that night, Major Bonacelli carefully pushed the wardrobe cabinet in his quarters away from the wall. Underneath were a couple of loose boards, under which he'd hidden his short wave radio.
He quickly set up the radio, then noiselessly crept to the door to listen for a few moments to make sure no one was lurking outside. After a few moments, he was satisfied he was alone and returned to the set.
"Pizzeria to Mama Bear," Bonacelli said softly into the microphone. "Pizzeria to Mama Bear. Come in, please."
"This is Mama Bear. Go ahead, Pizzeria."
"I have tonight's report," he said, then gave the details of what Guiseppe Maggiore had told him earlier that day.
"Acknowledged, Pizzeria, " the female radio perator in London replied. "Is there anything else."
"Yes, Mama Bear," he said. "One of my underground informants and I have an idea on how to expand our operation."
"Hold one moment, Pizzeria," she said. "Colonel Wembley will need to hear this."
After a long pause, Mama Bear said, "Continue, Pizzeria."
Bonacelli quickly told them an abbreviated version of the idea to help downed Allied fliers to get back to their own lines, including the proposed inclusion of Quinton McHale in their operation.
"How did you come to choose this Commander McHale?" Wembley asked. "And have you spoken of this idea with him yet?"
"It is as I said," Bonacelli said patiently. "McHale is the cugino - cousin - of one of my men, whose mother married an American." Sighing, he continued, "We have not talked to Commander McHale yet. I wanted to speak to you first for your approval before proceeding."
"Ah, I understand now," Wembley said affably. "Please give us a day or so to make a decision. I'll need to discuss it with the group in a staff meeting and also need to research the feasibility of the idea."
"That's all I ask," the major said. "I will eagerly await your reply. Pizzeria out."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Two days later, it was Colonel Wembley himself who answered the radio when Bonacelli called Mama Bear.
"I have good news for you, Pizzeria," Colonel Wembley informed Bonacelli. "Your idea has been accepted and will be implemented in the near future."
"Wonderful!" Bonacelli said.
"We did a background check on Lt. Commander McHale, who speaks fluent Italian, which makes him an excellent candidate for the job. And it seems he has a penchant for accomplishing his goals using unorthodox methods." Wembley chuckled briefly, then continued,"Rather much like Papa Bear, as it turns out."
"It is too bad they cannot meet," the Italian major said. "They would probably enjoy swapping war stories."
"Oh, but they will!" Wembley told him, with a jovial chuckle. "We've chosen Papa Bear to go down to Voltafiore to officially present the idea to Commander McHale. He, of course, will have the option to accept or refuse the mission, but he must give his decision to an official representative of his own nationality. If Commander McHale accepts the mission, Papa Bear will remain for a short time in an advisory role."
"When will Papa Bear come to Italy?" Bonacelli asked.
"As soon as possible," Wembley replied. "We'll leave it up to the two of you to work out the specific details, but keep us apprised of whatever plans you make."
"Of course," Bonacelli agreed.
"Oh, one more thing," Wembley said. "A Colonel Harrigan is in charge of the military government in Commander McHale's area so, pending McHale's acceptance of the mission, we will be informing Colonel Harrigan of what is going on, but he will play no active role in the operation. McHale will coordinate his actions with you and report to us. We have also decided not to inform his immediate commanding officer, a Captain Binghamton, as his background check revealed him to be an unstable man, who also has an irrational hatred of Lt. Commander McHale. This makes him a security risk."
"Understood," Bonacelli said. "Pizzeria out."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Colonel Robert Hogan was puttering around down in the tunnels after evening roll call. He'd been advised by London of his role in the proposed McHale operation and that Major Bonacelli would soon be contacting him to work out the details.
Hogan was nursing a cup of ersatz coffee, while Newkirk and LeBeau were in the uniform room doing some routine repairs on the German uniforms they'd used in their last mission. Carter was conducting an inventory of supplies in his lab, while Kinch was monitoring the radio.
He looked in on all the men in turn and just as he was about to give up for the night and go back upstairs, Kinch called out to him.
"I've got Major Bonacelli on the radio, sir."
"It's about time," Hogan grumbled as he took the headphones from the sergeant.
"Papa Bear here."
"Good evening, Colonel," Bonacelli said. "Pardon the lateness of the hour, but I had to wait until I was sure I was alone for the night."
"Understood," Hogan replied.
"I trust that London gave you the basics of this mission and your part in it?"
"They did," Hogan affirmed. "You want to expand your role to helping downed fliers back to our lines before they can be captured and sent to your camp. And one of your men has proposed that his American cousin, who is a naval officer stationed to the south of you, be the one who takes these fliers to safety. My role is to present the mission to him and to act as short-term advisor if he accepts. Correct?"
"That's right," the Italian major replied. "One thing, though. How do you propose to get down here and be able to stay long enough without being missed at Stalag 13?"
"Give me a moment," Hogan told him, getting up from the radio to pace for a few moments, as Kinch idly watched.
Within moments, he snapped his fingers in inspiration and returned to the radio.
"I want you to contact Klink and invite him down to Capizio to spend a week or so visiting your camp," the American said. "Tell him you want to pay him back for the hospitality he showed you when you were here, or some similar nonsense that will appeal to his ego. I will hide in the luggage carrier on top of his staff car for the ride to Capizio. I've done it twice before when I was needed in Paris for certain missions."
"I'd rather fall on my own sword than spend that much time with that insufferable man," Bonacelli complained. "He will probably try to get me to eat German cooking again. It took my stomach a week to recover from the sauerbraten he forced on me when I was at Stalag 13." After a short pause, he quickly added, "But I will do it."
Hogan laughed in understanding, then said, "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"Do you speak Italian?" Bonacelli asked. "I'll have to stay in Capizio to distract Klink, so my man will be taking you to Voltafiore to meet with his cousin. The problem is that he does not speak English."
"No, I don't," Hogan said. "But I have an Italian-American man in my barracks that may speak the language."
"Ah, yes, the one who gave me his father's recipe for pizza?"
"That's the one," Hogan confirmed. "Give me a minute to ask him."
Motioning to Kinch, he said, "Go ask Garlotti if he speaks Italian. If he does, bring him back down here."
Kinch returned within moments. "Sorry, sir. He only knows a few words of Italian."
At that moment LeBeau came out from the sewing room. "You need someone who speaks Italian? I have an Italian grandmother and I've been speaking it since I was a boy."
"Excellent," Hogan said, motioning at him to stay put.
Returning to the radio, he told Bonacelli, "I have a man who speaks Italian."
"Bring him along, then, so you will be able to communicate with Guiseppe," the major said. "You and your man will be posing as Italian fishermen, so bring the appropriate clothing. I will call Klink tomorrow morning to extend the invitation, and will contact you tomorrow evening with any further details."
"Good luck with Klink," Hogan said, chuckling. "Papa Bear out."