The bright sunshine of the previous day had been replaced by the heavy, grey clouds and occasional storms of a typical French spring. Men and horses, dragging everything from guns to stores of canned goods, struggled through the increasingly muddy pathways between the few buildings still standing and the piles of rubble that covered the streets.
McGavin looked at the band as being beneath him. To go from a Scotland Yard officer to a simple soldier was bad enough, but since the positions were unrelated, he had consoled himself with this professional back step. But to go from Scotland Yard to an MP felt like a true demotion.
With the orders to move to this new unit, Fitzhugh had not explained if their old ranks were still valid, or if they were all now equals as long as they wore the MP ar
