Marc did as he was told and shouted, ‘We’re not Boche! We’re not Boche!’ over and over.

Three French soldiers came out of hedges alongside, their rifles pointing at Marc and Henderson. Henderson slowed the truck to a halt, but kept the engine running and a foot on the accelerator in case things got rough.

‘What’s in the back?’ a bearded French sergeant demanded, as he pushed the butt of his rifle through the window beside Marc’s head.

‘Fresh bread sir,’ Marc said.

At the rear, another soldier had ripped open the canvas awning and found himself under bombardment from hundreds of loaves, bouncing into the dirt before rolling off down the hill.

‘Where is this bread from?’ the sergeant aiming the gun demanded.

‘They commandeered my truck and forced us to drive from Paris,’ Henderson lied. ‘We killed the German who was sent with us and decided to try finding our way through the lines.’

There seemed to be six troops in total and they were running into the road and tearing hungrily into the fresh loaves. This irritated the sergeant who was questioning Henderson.

‘Where’s your discipline?’ the sergeant shouted at the soldiers. ‘Get back under cover.’

‘There’s more than a hundred German tanks just a couple of kilometres from here,’ Henderson said. ‘They’re gearing up ready for another push. If we clear some of the bread out of the back, you could all ride with us.’

‘No thanks,’ the sergeant sneered. ‘The rest of our regiment surrendered this morning. Us six decided to stand and fight. But we’ll take some bread if that’s OK.’

Henderson was almost too stunned to speak as the sergeant stepped off the running board of the truck and lowered his rifle. ‘Panzer tanks have got twice the range of that artillery piece,’ he explained. ‘They’ll take one look through their binoculars and blast you out of the road.’

The sergeant looked down at his boots like a little boy in a lot of trouble. ‘Germans bombed my house,’ he explained. ‘Wife, mother and two daughters, all dead. Most of us have some experience like that. I’d sooner get blasted than look any Boche in the eye and call him sir.’

‘Are you sure all your men feel the same way?’ Henderson asked.

The sergeant stepped back from the truck and shouted, ‘The nice fellow here says there’s two hundred tanks coming our way and he’s offering you a ride south. If any of you want to take it, go right ahead.’

The hungry soldiers had mouths stuffed with bread, but they all shook their heads.

Marc didn’t know whether to be impressed by their bravery or appalled at their stupidity.

‘Well, good luck then – I guess,’ Henderson said. ‘If you’ve taken all the bread you need I’ll get going. Do you know if there are any more Germans south of here?’