“I landed alone in the corner of a field, bounded by tall, dark trees, throwing dense shadows over the point where I lay desperately struggling to free myself from the rigging lines. No use trying to contact my men. They would all be scattered. The next thing I knew was that I was sitting in a field of Brussel sprouts, completely alone. I could neither hear nor see a soul… I cried rather weekly, Viva La France, and stumbled off into the mist.” 3.5 stars