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Upstarts
It popped with what I considered a properly festive noise, but he looked disgusted
and threw the bottle into the trash. It seemed that good champagne is not supposed to pop
loudly.
The second bottle was more restrained. We made appreciative noises and went
away with a case of what Brother-in-Law said was the best, even though it was not as
sweet as we Coca-Cola drinkers might have liked.
As our long-suffering host drove us back to the Cathedral, I belatedly began to
worry about the jeep. If it was gone, how would we get back to the CP? Worse, how
would we explain how we let it get away? How much did a jeep cost, and how long
would it take to pay for it out of a captain's monthly salary?
It was still there. With all five tires. Our confidence in French public opinion was
vindicated - almost. Joe B. Davis's carton of cigarettes for egg-swapping had disappeared
from under the windshield cover. Well, everything else was in place, and you can't expect
perfection.
We finally had gas again. We moved out, and the after-effects of the champagne,
notably the dry velvety feeling in the mouth and tongue, wore off. We traveled about 120
miles in two days - still glamour war - trying to catch up with the Germans, but with very
little idea of where they might be.
Obviously they were no better informed, for in the early morning hours of the
third day a German Panzer (Armored) Brigade traveling at night - something they never
do with enemy around - made their first contact with the 90th Division. And not with our
forward infantry units, but with the Division and Division Artillery Command Posts,
sitting in the woods across the road from each other in what they assumed was a well-
insulated rear area.
I was not there, but I understand that as soon as the sentry at the Div Arty CP
challenged the leading tank in a language clearly not German, the woods started to echo
with the sounds of cannon and burp gun fire from the startled German tankers. There was
a brisk firefight, involving all three of our general officers, McLain (Division
Commander), Weaver (Assistant Division Commander, and Devine (Division Artillery
Commander). Not to mention a lot of junior officers and enlisted men who had never
expected to fire their carbines and rifles.
All I witnessed myself was two days of rumors about single German Panther
tanks blundering around loose throughout the division area, trying to find and fight their
way out. Not the sort of thing to encourage one to wander about in a single jeep, so I
stayed at our CP all day.
I was interested in reports of the reactions of my acquaintances who were in the
Div Arty CP when it was being raked with tank fire at about 2:30 a.m. Lieutenant Maina,
the prissy and bureaucratic little Div Arty Adjutant, always looked as if he would fall
over if anyone spoke to him sharply. But he knew what the regulations required at times
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