Paris on the day it fell to German invaders. The awesome reality of everything that was in front of him.

He stood there in wonder as he watched the Germans make their way down the avenue toward Place de la Concorde. Invisibility was better than a diplomatic passport.

JUNE 1940 BY BUD JENNINGS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 23

With The Independent from London spread out on the little drop-leaf table in the kitchen and the warm morning sun resting on his back, he drank his coffee and read. There was an article about the recent poll of the French and the British, who were squeamish about German reunification. He’d heard plenty of Frenchmen opine: “L’Allemagne sera toujours dangereux,” and Jackie had told him, “When Germany glued itself together, the gray-hairs in London were placing orders for gas masks.” Taking up the top half of the page was an archival picture of dress-uniformed Nazis marching down the Champs Elysées. He lowered his head toward the photograph. Their helmets suggested potatoes, tightly wrapped in tinfoil and arrayed on a baking pan. Owen wondered about the spectators along the…