… the men approached my body, they mumbled something that I couldn’t catch so I still didn’t know whether they were German.
The closest knelt down next to me and turned me over and reached under my shirt aiming for my Dog Tag. If I had thought for a moment, it could have been German’s simply wondering who I was. but still having myself being brainwashed into thinking all Germans were heartless Nazis. But instead I grabbed his arm and opened my eyes smiling. There was Morrison.
He beamed at me after recovering from his initial startle. “Hey! I thought you were a goner! I saw you float down like a rock. OI! Borne! It’s Warrington! He’s alive… barely!” Borne trudged over smiling warmly as Morrison lifted me up, groaning I steadied myself then unbound my rifle from my back. At least that hadn’t got lost.
Just then, our little reunion was broken apart by hounds barking and the unmistakable shout of “Schnell! Sie sind hier!” from our quick lesson in basic German we all knew that those words meant; ‘Quick they are over here!’ We stared at each other then grabbed our weapons, I quickly made sure I was looked and loaded then stared at where the shout came from.
We had two choices; stand and fight, where we may possibly face more than a small patrol, or we could run and risk hounds being set after us. We each looked at each other and nodded. We all knew that we had to…
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