Adolf’s coxcomb bristled and he strutted off before flying onto the roof of the coop and emitting a series of loud, defiant crows as his hens pecked greedily at the food Ron had scattered on the ground.

Ron clasped the bowl of eggs – there were only three today – and looked up at the massed flight of Flying Fortresses, Lancaster bombers, Tornadoes, Spitfires and Hurricanes. They’d been thundering overhead since before dawn with a definite air of purpose and in greater numbers than usual, their fuselages unusually painted with broad stripes; wing and tail lights blazing even though it was daylight.

Something was definitely up. Ron could feel it in his bones, and with a growing sense of excitement he went indoors, switched on the wireless and then hurried out to the front of the house and along the cul-de-sac until he had a clear view down the hill to the Channel.

The sight took his breath away and made his heart thud with pride. Bombers, heavy transporters, fighters and even gliders were amassing from all directions and heading towards the French coast, their vast numbers stretching across the sky as far as the eye could see, lights flashing as they blocked out the sun and cast deep shadows over the calm Channel waters.

Thousands of battleships, corvettes, motor gun boats, motor torpedo boats, minesweepers, cruisers, tank and troop carriers were dark smudges out on the horizon, and the echoes of heavy bombardment carried across the Channel as bright flashes of gunfire were followed by oily plumes of black smoke rising above the distant shore.

‘It’s started, Harvey,’ he breathed, stroking the dog’s head. ‘It really has begun.’

Harvey barked and wagged his tail, clearly confused by Ron’s odd behaviour at this time of the morning, but he seemed to catch his excitement, and his barking became more enthusiastic as he chased after Ron, who’d raced up the steps and back into the house.

‘It’s started,’ Ron yelled, banging on Peggy’s door before racing up the stairs to tell the others. ‘It’s started! The invasion’s on!’

As the girls came onto the landing and hurried downstairs to join Peggy and Daisy, who were now standing on the front step, Ron banged on Cordelia’s door. ‘I hope you’re decent, old girl, because I’m coming in.’

Cordelia was in her dressing gown and slippers, and after her initial shock, looked at Ron askance. ‘What do you think you’re doing in here? Get out at once.’

Ron snatched up her hearing aid from the bedside chest and thrust it at her. ‘It’s the invasion,’ he yelled. ‘Hurry up, or you’ll miss it.’

‘I can’t hear a word you’re saying,’ she retorted, fiddling with the hearing aid and almost dropping it.

‘God love you, woman, you’ll be the death of me,’ Ron groaned, sweeping her up into his arms and hurrying down the stairs.