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the fearsome APCs were pressed into service as tourist buses, hauling packs of German and American children all over town. By noon, Grantville’s two downtown taverns were packed to the gills, especially after Willie Ray brought in his newly made stock of moonshine. He’d even provided labels for the jars: “Revenoo-ers Rue.” Business spilled out onto the streets.
At that point, six American entrepreneurs formed an on-the-spot partnership with four German ex-soldiers. A Scots cavalryman acted as interpreter and, by the end of the negotiations, had parlayed himself into the partnership as well.
Three of the Americans were farmers who, like Willie Ray, had their own stocks of miscellaneous home brew. The fourth American, Ernie Dobbs, was a beer-truck driver. By bad luck, he had been in Grantville making deliveries when the Ring of Fire occurred. Since there was no one to say otherwise, he had retained possession of the truck’s stock of beer—which he now contributed as his capital investment. The remaining two Americans agreed to provide the necessary equipment—which consisted, in the main, of card tables and folding chairs.
The Germans, former tavern-keepers, provided the experienced personnel. By noontime, having expropriated the small park next to the town’s community swimming pool by mysterious means, the “Thuringen Gardens” were open for business.
“Ey am t’bouncer,” pronounced the Scotsman proudly, as he ushered the mob onto the grounds. a