Part XIX
The sad tale of the Eiffel Tower's collapse prompted the heavy to burst out laughing and even raised a rare grin from the trenchcoat. As they appreciated the dark comedy of Montbel's tale his voice continued in the background.
"Such convoys were my entire life at the time, my waking hours were spent either loading or unloading the trucks and my only chance to sleep was when the trucks started moving. And can I just say it is amazing how quickly even a lifelong desk-bound bureaucrat like myself can learn to sleep anywhere when there are no other options. Such lessons in how far I could push myself were among the few bright spots in my own personal sea of darkness."
The heavy nodded his appreciation, it was his considered opinion bureaucrats of all types would benefit from 'toughening up', a job he would willingly do for free in many cases.
"The bombardment of Paris by bomb and shell continued, as our circuitous routes weaved through the city the truck's driver would shake me awake to see the most heart rending tragedy; the shattered roof of the Grand Palais, the de-towered ruin of Notre Dame, the crater where once the Lourvre had stood." The voice stopped and fought down the emotion.
"Had it not been for the black humour of our military escort I doubt I would have made it, I still remember out outrider's laconic comment 'Well that's the 4th buggered.' as we passed the burnt out wreckage of Les Invalides. Though I suppose he was right, for all of the commanding general's optimism the 4th Armoured's desperate counter-attack barely reached the city limits before being thrown back. What was the commander's name? de Gaultier? de Galles? What does it matter I suppose? What is one dead general among a division of dead soldiers? Why is the leader more worthy of 'heroic' memorial than his men?
It was a profound question, one sadly wasted on the heavy who had engrossed himself in the paper while he waited the next instruction from his listening boss.
STOP! COOKIE TIME
