A piece of tile, splintered by an errant bullet, had pierced it, he said, as the Germans drove him before them.

Another man told us his father--and the father must have been an old man, for the speaker himself was in his fifties--had been shot through the thigh.

But had anybody been killed?
That was what we wanted to know.

Ah, but yes! A dozen eager fingers pointed to the house immediately behind us.

There a man had been killed.
Coming back to try to save some of their belongings after the Germans had gone through, these others had found him at the head of the cellar steps in his blazing house.