There was a roar of aero engines overhead as planes passed down the length of the roadway, the crosses of the Luftwaffe obvious on their wings. Uttering screams and desperate cries of panic people attempted to find cover, many getting knocked over in the rush. Moments later there was a crash and thud of bombs, joined by the chatter of machinegun fire. Up ahead a pall of black smoke started to rise slowly into the air, accompanied by the drone of retreating bombers. The crush of refugees reformed and continued to inch forward. “Those trucks are like the one at the church this morning,” said Andre. They had eventually drawn level with the rising smoke. It was a small convoy of French troops, two of their trucks had been destroyed, proof
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“When it’s all gone no doubt we can walk,” “We’ll just have to keep our eyes open for another petrol station. We’ll try a small village in awhile. I just don’t want a gendarme asking awkward questions,” replied Smith. “I’m hungry,” announced Andre. “That’s something else we have to think about,” murmured Smith.
Julia paused and then turned and stared at the bus. “Just a moment,” she said, “I have an idea.
She climbed back on board and appeared to be searching. “Lunch,” she proclaimed holding up a basket. Smith and Andre quickly joined her. “It’s the peasant woman’s,” she explained. They all stared into the basket. Cradled against its bottom were two long loaves accompanied by two equally long bottles. On the top, about the size of a man’s fist was something wrapped in wax paper and tied with string. Julia touched it with her fingertips, “Cheese,” she said. They descended and sat beneath the hedgerow munching on the crusty bread and breaking off lumps from the slab of cheese. “Not Stilton,” said Smith between bites, “But delicious none the less.” “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, besides we’re eating someone else’s lunch,” replied Julia. Smith grinned, “I won’t let my conscience ruin my
“When it’s all gone no doubt we can walk,” “We’ll just have to keep our eyes open for another petrol station. We’ll try a small village in awhile. I just don’t want a gendarme asking awkward questions,” replied Smith. “I’m hungry,” announced Andre. “That’s something else we have to think about,” murmured Smith.
Julia paused and then turned and stared at the bus. “Just a moment,” she said, “I have an idea.
She climbed back on board and appeared to be searching. “Lunch,” she proclaimed holding up a basket. Smith and Andre quickly joined her. “It’s the peasant woman’s,” she explained. They all stared into the basket. Cradled against its bottom were two long loaves accompanied by two equally long bottles. On the top, about the size of a man’s fist was something wrapped in wax paper and tied with string. Julia touched it with her fingertips, “Cheese,” she said. They descended and sat beneath the hedgerow munching on the crusty bread and breaking off lumps from the slab of cheese. “Not Stilton,” said Smith between bites, “But delicious none the less.” “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, besides we’re eating someone else’s lunch,” replied Julia. Smith grinned, “I won’t let my conscience ruin my