Chapter 8September, 1939
I chafed against the thin blanket when something cold and wet touched my face jolting me awake. I surged up. “Tabernac.” I clawed at my cheek then spat into the dust swatting wildly at the nag nuzzling me. The horse reminded me of my officer trainer after graduating from high school years ago. We didn't get along very well, me and the horses, even though we were compelled to learn how to ride. I'd been more interested in motors and artillery. A stubborn tank hadn't been a problem but a stubborn horse, that was a different matter. I'd kept my commission after the two compulsory years I served. When war broke out, I answered the call to arms. I graduated as a raw lieutenant, inexperienced and judgmental.
I hadn't slept in fifty-six hours. Fatigue seeped into my por
