A German Sergeant, a tough former Luftwaffe paratrooper who"d fought at Casino, was in the foyer, checking on us. He began singing Rot Scheint die Sonne, the anthem of the Fallschirmjäger, marking time with his hand. The German recruits led the men into the chorus. Aristiedes and me kept quiet. It didn"t feel right singing that song.
The Sergeant came over. “Sing. It"s a good marching song. You"re going to be legionnaires.” We sang. When the song finished, he pushed us to the centre of the foyer. In a few seconds he had us singing Erika, a rousing German march popular with the recruits.
The Legion assessed our aptitude and intelligence. Legion Security made further checks. A Major questioned me about my name. “You have a French name. Is your father French?”
“No, Sir. My father is Scots.
