Out of nowhere they appeared, miles behind the front line, falling on undefended convoys like wolves on a flock of sheep. Machine-guns blazed, trucks were blasted to pieces, and men fell in roadside ditches. Then they were gone as swiftly as they came, and yet another British supply column was left a smoking ruin. They were German guerrilla fighters, trained killers every one, and they were led by a man as fearless and cunning as any. Captain Schultz was his name—special Nazi commando. Soon the question was on every British soldier's lips... where will Mad Schultz strike next?
