“Occupation duty in Erlangen hadn’t been so bad. Oh, you looked sideways at about every third Jerry you passed on the street, but he’d kind of got used to that. And Erlangen wasn’t a big city. Yeah, the fanatics had bumped off that Adenauer guy there, but that was just one of those things. (Half-remembered bits of Cole Porter spun through his head—something about gossamer wings. He wished he had some right this minute.) What he was doing now wasn’t occupation duty. It was war—no other name for i...t. He was part of a skirmish line combing through a valley somewhere in the Alps, looking for—well, anything that didn’t belong there. Some of the things that didn’t belong here were krauts with rifles and Schmeissers and machine guns. Not all of them were Heydrich’s diehards. The rest were just brigands. They’d lived by robbery all through the war, and hadn’t felt like quitting after the surrender. But they could kill you every bit as dead as any fanatic. Yeah, those gossamer wings would come in handy, all right.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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