Brass glitters in a converted movie theater in the reservation near Paris which is called Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe. Pips, crowns, eagles, laurel wreaths, stars sparkle on an international wardrobe of soldiers' tunics. A luminous map of Europe shines from the screen. The houselights dim, a spotlight focuses on a small, grey-mustached man in the uniform of a high British officer.
In a thin, nasal voice, Field Marshal the Viscount Montgomery of Alamein curtly sketches the problem. Suppose the Russians were to advance here. (A dark shadow darts westward across the map.) Then...
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