That Morgan was right was demonstrated as soon as he left me.

I was seated against a tree by the side of the road eating a sandwich, an occupation which seems almost idyllic in its innocence but which could not deceive the Germans.

In me they saw the hated Spion, and from behind me, across a ploughed field, four of them, each with an automatic, made me prisoner.

One of them, who was an enthusiast, pushed his gun deep into my stomach.

With the sandwich still in my hand, I held up my arms high and asked who spoke English.