12:05: I hitched a ride back to my hotel, I walk across the street to the local café and bought a sandwich and a soda. I return to my hotel room. As I ate, I looked over the notes of names. It gives their name, rank, serial number and service history. One reads Jefferson.Adams, Corporal, 13352578, A platoon, B company. Wounded in combat in Normandy, June.

Another reads Pauls, Jacob, Sargent, 12465899, B platoon, B company, Seen combat in North Africa and Sicily. The list continues so on and so forth.

I don't understand, some of these men have an excellent service history. So why would they up and suddenly go AWOL. I ponder this for a while. How could men of this reputation be deserters. They had to have disappeared. But how and why? There were reports of German spies and commandos behind our lines. But how could commandos capture or kill this many men undetected. My mind races and I easily tire. I decide to nap for a while, I climb in bed and drift off to sleep.

17:05. I awaken, slumber still hangs heavily on my eyes. I rise and don my uniform once again. I step out of the hotel and in to the cold night air. I walk the several blocks the bar, and there in neon lights is a sign above the entrance in french. Nailed to a pole is a sign that reads, "Bar Louis." Men and women enter and leave going about their business.

I enter the double doors and the scent of cigarettes and booze overwhelms my senses. Men, uniformed men, and women are scattered about tables making merriment. The noise and chattering is so loud it makes my ears ring. Soft blues plays in background. There I see two men in uniform chatting in stools at the bar. I approach them. "Are you corporal Jackson?" I announce inquisitively. " Yeah what do you want?" is the snarky reply. "Good. I have some questions about about private Delaney." I say calmly "Delaney what the hell are you talking about?"

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The obviously drunken figures turns and with eyes now wide open, he jumps to his feet and salutes. The other man does the same. "Oh uh sorry uh there lieutenant uh I didn't see you there." "Is this how you always respond to officers corporal? I say slyly. "Uh no sir." he replies. "Good I want to know every thing you know about private Delaney." I say.

He starts,"well uh sir, he is the good country type from Delaware. I've known him from our time in England before the invasion. He is a good soldier sir. He has got a family waiting on him back home." "You do know he is classified as gone AWOL right?" I ask him. " "Yes sir I do, which I don't understand sir. He has never done anything like this before."

"Do you have any idea where he could be?"

" Uh uh no sir." He says nervously avoiding eye contact. "Is that all corporal?" I inquire pressingly. He glances at the floor like a child about to be berated. "I know where he was last night sir." He blurts out. "He was at the Pink Slipper, the local ladies house sir. He's has been doing these exploits for a while sir." I raise my eye brows "Really? is this true corporal." "Yes sir." He replies in honesty. "And where can I find this Pink Slipper?" I ask. "To the west end of town sir." he says. "Thank you corporal." I turn and leave.