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Unsung Hero (Part 3)

Hans winked and broke the loaf in two. The sound alone made their mouths water. "Remember that blond we met at the dance last Saturday? Turned out she's the baker's daughter."

"And what did you have to promise her for this?"

"To take her dancing again." Hans smirked. "As if she'd have to pay me for that."

They were just biting off the first bit, when they heard a whisper.

It was a young peasant woman on the French side of the fence. She was holding a baby in her arms. With only a shawl over her thin dress she was shivering from the cold.

"I'm hungry, messieurs," she said, repeatedly glancing over at the guard house.

Granddad began pushing his part of the loaf through the fence. But just as the woman wanted to prise it from the metal mesh, the German Corporal appeared, pushed her away and tore the bread free. He broke off a chunk, stuffed it into his mouth. The woman's eyes filled with tears.

"Have they shortened your rations?" Granddad asked. He had difficulty keeping the rage out of his voice. "Is the Reich's situation so bad?"

"We have more food than we need," the Corporal answered, tossed the bread on the ground and trampled on it with his mud-smeared boots.
(To be continued)

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