INDOCHINA
A deep stillness lay across the wasteland of Dienbienphu. A shroud of gunsmoke lifted from the dips and hollows where the French Union garrison had died. In the stillness, there was only a muffled tramp! tramp! tramp! as the worn-out prisoners moved north, or a sudden, shuddering thump as an ammunition dump went off, or a dull buzz in the sky where the French C475 were keeping their death watch. It was a graveyard world down there, the French pilots reported, a tornup world of broken stones and cluttered bunkers, while around it...
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