Sitting on a bench outside Notre Dame. A ferry goes past full of beery, singing infantrymen. A frenchman discreetly spits into the water.
I look up at the ramparts of the Cathedral.
"You know, that gargoyle reminds me of my Dieter"
"No, too handsome!" she laughed.
We strolled across the bridge into the Latin Quarter, and where the students still hang out. There's a lively street market there, which girls love; and soon we are haggling over a piece of white silk.
"Oh please just pay him Rollie, we have to have it!"
Bemused, I do so. But now she gives it to me.
"Who'se the man who painted the Laughing Swordfish on your conning tower, Rollie?"
"Bittrich, I think. Willi would know for sure, but.."
"Get him to draw the same swordfish on this. And sign it yourself". She looked at me urgently. "And get the boys to sign it or write or draw something on it. All fifty of them! I shall keep it always, and wave it on the dockside when you are due in, so that you can pick me out. You will always come back in, won't you?"
"I have to now!"
And so we cadged a staff car back to the Coast, where the U-46 was waiting.
LS
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