T his close to the enemy no fires could be kindled another source of misery in the merciless cold. But as he sat on a couch made of leaves and sticks beneath a snow-covered pine tree telling his brother-in-law his adventures Moe felt a tendril of warmth running through him: the warmth of family.
When he’d finished recounting his tale Abe laughed. “Welcome to combat soldier. A little different from that fancy palace where you were stationed back in England.”
Moe hastily changed the subject; his work at Bletchley was still classified ultra-top-secret and it would be awkward if Abe started asking questions.
“You once gave me a hitch in your Pontiac Captain Levine. May I join you in your limousine when you go back to base?”
