Dense fog shrouded the rough terrain making it all but impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. Mole listened intently for a long time, but heard nothing. Allied intelligence had put the enemy’s top secret defense in this sector, and indications were that there would be heavy protection. To be this close and hear nothing, and to see nothing, was troublesome in Mole’s mind. “This heavy fog doesn’t help,” thought Mole to himself. He caught Wolf’s eye, and motioned for him to swing to the right toward the river. McBeaver would be there with the makeshift bridge under the low-hanging willows along the riverbank. This is the narrowest point along a very swiftly flowing river, and would be the easiest spot to cross. But Mole was worried – Owl, the fourth member, hadn’t made contact since the OSS team dropped behind enemy lines two nights ago. Owl’s task was to make a low-level reconnaissance flight over the cliffs along the beaches, specifically observing coastal fortifications, and report back to Mole. Thus far, Owl hadn’t made contact, and time was running out. The team had to make its move to sabotage the defensive network by 2100 hours tonight, or it would be too late, and their effort would fail. It was already 1800 hours, and the light was failing fast. The heavy fog was an added obstacle.

Wolf crept silently through the underbrush, along a shallow gully, and down a slight embankment to the river’s edge. The thick fog hid his movements from any observing eyes, but he still moved with all due caution and stayed mainly in the shadows. It was deathly still. Wolf slipped silently under the low-hanging willow trees, and waited. Suddenly, there was a slight rippling of the waters to his left, and McBeaver’s nose silently broke the water’s surface. McBeaver blinked and smiled, showing a wide expanse of two large teeth. Wolf grinned back. “What took you so long?” he quipped, but this was lost on McBeaver as he slid quickly under the surface again, and came up on the other side of the temporary bridge.

McBeaver’s task was to get the team across the river without their being detected by the enemy. The make-shift bridge he had fashioned of fallen trees, twigs, a paste of mud and leaves, and berry vines, all found nearby, would do the trick. Wolf was impressed, though because of the skills demanded of each team member on the mission, he wasn’t surprised.

Wolf and McBeaver would wait until dark, which would be in just 90 minutes, and then make their move. Mole would join them at the appointed hour at the water’s edge. However, without Owl’s reconnaissance information, they would be working in the dark, in more ways than one. McBeaver knew the reason Owl hadn’t made contact, was that he was either dead or captured. Wolf believed otherwise, for he knew Owl, and knew he was considerably more than resourceful. Although late, Wolf knew Owl would be there at the right time, and with the necessary information. Owl would not fail the mission.

In the headquarters bunker cut deep into the cliff side, Commanding General Jyai Snake was making final plans to repel the Allied invasion he knew was imminent. His intelligence sources put the Allied attack at this location, and the commanding position of the defensive bunkers gave a sweeping view of the beaches along the coast. He was calm, and deliberate, as he spoke quietly with his second and third in command, Vice Commandant Tohmas Leopard of the Fourth Lightning Panther Division, and General Gymm Coyote, known among Allied commanders as the stealthy Desert Fox.

Commanding General Snake believed the extensive array of bunkers carved into the solid rock cliffs overlooking the beaches, and the mystical powers of the AirHead race, would prove invincible to the combined powers of the Allied forces. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Vice Commandant Leopard paced back and forth, being nervous by nature. By character and reputation he was a fierce combatant, cunning, and terribly ruthless. Those who served under him, feared his wrath as much as did his foes. General Coyote, for his part, had a mean streak the width of his ego, which was vast indeed. In a firefight, he was vicious and unrelenting, and gave no quarter. He moved his troops with amazing speed, and had defeated the best the Allied commanders of Northern Africa could throw against him. His command of military strategy, both theoretical as well as time-tested and practical, was considerable. There were few his equal. Commanding General Snake had indeed gathered together his top military minds for the defense of the Third Rice.

Mole was deeply concerned as he met the others at the river’s edge. It was time to move, and there was still no word from Owl. The crossing had to be made, but without Owl’s information, how would they know where to scale the cliffs? And how would they know which bunkers at the top were real, and which decoys? Mole didn’t like this at all.

“Damn,” he muttered half aloud. Wolf appeared suddenly out of the darkness beside him, and Mole jumped, though he caught himself before he let out a scream. “Don’t do that!” whispered Mole testily. “Sorry,” said Wolf, smiling broadly. “And stop worrying. Owl will be here.” Mole looked into the steel-grey eyes of Wolf, and shook his head. “I’m afraid we haven’t the time to find out; we have to go without him,” said Mole, “and do the best we can.”

“Begging your pardon, Captain,” said Wolf, holding Mole’s eyes. “Owl wouldn’t let the team down; he’ll be here.” Just then, McBeaver surfaced silently at the water’s edge, smiling broadly. “The bridge is ready,” he said matter-of-factly to Mole. McBeaver had attached the floating bridge to the banks on both sides of the river, and covered the logs and vines with a thin layering of moss and algae, giving it a wet and watery look, making it more difficult to see in the dark. Mole was impressed; Wolf was not surprised. The three mounted the bridge, and crossed quickly and easily, unseen in the darkness. As they reached the opposite bank and headed for the cover of the trees, there was a rush of wind and the stroke of powerful wings, and Owl swooped down and joined his comrades.

Wolf smiled, and winked as Mole caught his eye. Mole smiled in return. He then asked Owl to report on things since their drop behind enemy lines. Owl indicated that he wasn’t able to lift off because of the heavy fog, and he couldn’t radio in without alerting the enemy of his presence, so had to take the chance that the team would either proceed without him and would make the best of the mission, or that he’d make it to the rendezvous point on time.

As it turned out, the fog had lifted near the crest of the cliffs, so he was able fly reconnaissance and photograph the fortifications anyway. “I have the information you need,” said Owl. Wolf smiled. “Hmmm,” said Mole. Owl laid out photographs of the cliff area, and quickly identified the cruel paths that led up the towering cliffs, noting which of the bunkers were sham and which real. Mole, Wolf, and McBeaver, listened intently. Mole nodded his head, and said, “It’s time. You all know what you have to do” As Owl and McBeaver took their places in the shadows nearby, Mole and Wolf smudged their faces with the soot from burnt cork, and each checked their sidearm – government issue Colt 45 automatic pistols. When they were ready, Mole and Wolf without a word, slipped into the darkness alongside the sheer cliffs. It was still pitch dark as they began their ascent. At first the way was steep but easily negotiated by the two. Soon the pathways narrowed and disappeared, and climbing required more and more the use of paws and nails to grasp paw holds amidst the cracks and crevices. Both Mole and Wolf were in excellent condition, and while the climb was difficult, they moved quickly up the face of the cliff.

Mole and Wolf reached an area on the cliffs just below the crest where all the defensive bunkers were. They had made it in the extreme darkness without alerting any of the elite troops guarding the bunkers. Carefully, though with speed and urgency, they placed time-delayed explosives just beneath the gun ports of each of the actual bunkers. They set the timers to coincide with the massive invasion to come, with the hope the explosions would cause havoc amidst the elite troops of Commanding General Jyai Snake, lessening their advantage.

McBeaver, who had remained below to guard the floating bridge, covered the retreat of Mole and Wolf with his Browning Automatic Rifle poised. Owl flew lookout, and in the darkness eluded enemy radar by flying just inches off the sheer face of the cliffs. He provided additional support and coverage for Mole and Wolf with his Thompson sub-machine gun. During their descent, just as Wolf reached the lower section of the narrow pathway, a shot rang out of the looming darkness, and a shock of pain ripped through his shoulder and into his chest, and he slumped to his knees and tumbled down the remainder of the pathway. Mole was the first to reach Wolf, followed by Owl. Wolf wasn’t moving, and Owl let out a low moan and rolled his eyes. McBeaver came up, and watched as Mole applied pressure to the bleeding wound in Wolf’s chest. He told Mole he would return shortly, then slipped into the shadows and was gone.

Wolf lay lifeless on the sandy ground at the foot of the cliff as Mole worked over him. Finally, Owl said, “He’s dead, Mole; you gotta stop. It’s getting light, and enemy snipers will be here soon. We gotta get outta here.” Mole sat back, and let out a long low sigh; “You’re right, Owl. He’s gone. But we can’t leave him here.” Just then, McBeaver returned. “Come on,” he whispered, “I have the bridge ready. We just have time to make it.” And with that the three carried their fallen comrade the short distance to the river’s edge.

McBeaver had cut the vines holding the bridge onto the opposite bank, and had cut away portions of the bridge so less than an eighth of it remained attached to the banks on this side. The three got on board, carrying the lifeless body of Wolf, and gently set him down in the center of the makeshift raft. McBeaver cut through the remaining vines holding the bridge in place, and it floated free. With powerful flips of his tail, McBeaver guided the raft into the main current of the river, and the raft floated swiftly down stream. In minutes the river carried the four past the beaches, and out into the dark ocean waters.

As the morning light broke, a lone PT boat made a sweep across the ocean off the beaches of Normandy, and picked up three weary soldiers clinging to a small raft, along with their dead comrade and companion. During this maneuver, Commanding General Jyai Snake’s elite troops laid down an intense barrage of artillery fire directed at the lone rescue boat. In moments one of the time-delayed explosives malfunctioned, exploding one day prematurely, wiping out the central command bunker. In the explosion, three of the top military strategists of the enemy’s command were killed, and a major segment of the defensive deployment was destroyed, causing havoc amidst the preparations for the defense of the Third Rice.

…