Chapter Thirty-Seven
Morning’s first light crept across the battlefield and found the MPs, Danjou, and their prisoners sitting deep in a crater, nearly a mile from the trench. During the night they had cut a parallel path along the Allied and German lines, trying to clear the Canadian sector and reach someone friendlier. Above their heads, shells and bullets whined and roared, but they were safe enough here.
They all shared the two tins of bully beef Wolk had found earlier. The cold, jelly-like meat was hard to swallow, but for men who hadn’t eaten in nearly a day it was never going to be enough.
‘Any idea where we are?’ McGavin whispered.
‘About five hundred feet from our lines, which means we’re about one mile from the German lines. This area is renowned for snipers, so we’ll be sitt
