On the newspaper maps, day by day, the grey shadow bulged down swiftly, erupted in a black spearhead that raced past the ancient, memorable place names Amiens, Arras, Abbevilleturned and hooked northward up the coast. Claws thrust out, curving, into the pocketed white space. On these daily map-pictures the U. S. watched the Allies thrashing as desperately as a fat bird in a falcon's talons.
The U. S. had passed the first shocked realization that perhaps soon nothing but a shrunken ocean would lie between Adolf Hitler and America. Last fortnight the...
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