Parachutes bloomed in fluffy skies as airborne troops rehearsed their desperate act. Cowslips gleamed in English meadows and harebells nodded by English streams as toiling infantrymen sweated and wriggled through the final stages of their training. Across the pale green of awakening countryside, endless convoys lurched, Bren gun carriers clattered, jeeps buzzed and tanks clanked. Assault troops splashed wearily ashore on countless nameless stony beaches; the thunder of artillery practice on Salisbury Plain mounted toward unbearable climax.
Forbidden Ground. On the invasion rim, from King's Lynn on The Wash down past Great Yarmouth,...
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