In the early morning, a beam of golden light pierced the sky and spread across the open ground outside the town of Truk. The sound of artillery fire came from the south; Petain's forces were launching a fierce attack on the German Army's defensive line.
Inside the town, there were faint signs of people moving slowly. Coffee shops opened, ready for business; smoke from kitchen chimneys rose into the air, and the incoming breeze carried a hint of freshly baked bread.
On the other side of the town was a forest filled with oak trees bearing green leaves. Mist rolled in the sunlight, blending indistinguishably with the smoke from the town.
Shire lay prone on the hood of an armored vehicle, peering through binoculars and observing everything repeatedly, but he found no suspicious signs.
Behind him were tanks and armored vehicles, their armor dotted with crater-like bullet holes, telling of the fierce fighting from the night before.
