“Mike,” she whispered.
He moved closer.
“Can I have your hand?”
“To hold?”
“To bite.”
“If it helps then okay.”
“So sweet,” she said as she passed out.
“Just shock,” the medic reassured him. “She will have a small scar though.”
“I suspect she will be proud of it. Show it off like a medal.”
They made her comfortable in the back of the jeep and headed for Frankfurt, the armoured car commander calling in the action to get the clean-up squad to the scene.
Frenchie’s main concern on waking was had she been quick enough? Had anyone else been injured?
They had five wounded but Mike assured her she saved men rather than endangered any. As they closed on Frankfurt the evening getting cold he climbed in the back and let the G.I. drive. Cuddling up to her, her head on his shoulder he scolde
