Flames licked upward from the hulk of a Tiger tank, the wreck angled sideways in the street between two burned out buildings. The fire consuming the panzer was hot enough to melt a surrounding circle of snow-covered ground. Everywhere sprawled the bodies of men killed violently, though somehow this grotesque proof of war was gentled by the fresh white powder.Wakefield walked alone, leaving the division HQ which had been set up in the building that had served as Rommel’s own command post. Patton had taken control there, sending out word of the surrender while that newsman worked on his report. A Big Story, the general admitted, allowing himself a little flush of pleasure. The biggest in... God only knew how long.At last, out of breath and sweating in the chill air, the burly general reached the plaza overlooking the Meuse. Less than a kilometer to the west stretched the river, and he could clearly see the broken remains of two bridges.He also saw blackened tanks and twisted truck frames, dozens of them--more than he could easily count.
