I had to admit she was a smart looking woman. She stood in front of me and lifted the hem all the way up. "How do they look Yank?" she asked. "Oooh!...you should see your face !" She teased. I told her she looked great and with that she went out the door to go to the pub and meet the girls, still chuckling at the effect her legs had on me. The 'girls' were the women she worked with at the factory, making small parts that would no doubt end the war someday. When she came home I was in bed. Otherwise, Wendy had duplicated the incident perfectly. And it had been accomplished with substitute props. She became a bundle of terror. From where my head rested against the cold meat wrapper I could hear her stammer, wheeze, cough and make choking sounds. “Don’t bother with the roast,” she coached as she raised the door. I was determined to bring up the prize. Like a quarterback, I grabbed the ball in both hands and tucked it under my left arm. With an exaggerated move I flipped myself. More

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