“Of course life became more dangerous. I no longer followed. I was there among them fighting with them.”
“And in that coat?”
“The colours or lack of were good camouflage. Their sharpshooters were looking for olive not reddish brown.”
“And my beret survived too. I had washed it since Verdun.”
The convoy having chosen a back road route to try and avoid trouble moved slowly, more cautiously than if they had still been at war. Before they would be moving in either Allied held territory or pushing against German regions. Having travelled some thirty kilometres the column stopped, a message from the lead armoured car asking everyone to reverse.
“Trouble ahead,” Mike unnecessarily imparted.
However they moved forward again a few minutes later. The guide had taken the wrong fork in the road,
