About June 1, we left Leicester. We drove a few miles through the countryside to the airfield and passed a security guard, whom we had not seen before. We were housed in green-brown camouflaged tents, four men to a tent. Once we were on the field the area was sealed off. As a driver I unexpectedly went out once, under orders to say nothing. That was silly, for I knew nothing. Thousands of men were pouring into flight areas and going south and southwest to ports. The highways were jammed with traffic, convoys of trucks carrying soldiers, pulling artillery pieces, pulling stacks of materials. Most of the movement was in the same direction. I went through village after small village where every resident knew what I knew. There was a kind of silent communication between us. Once back in the staging area, I stayed in. Extra guards were posted. Security was tight. This looked like it.
No one believed for a minute that the Germans were unaware of what we knew. At this point we and the Germans were, at least, equal. Both knew it was soon, but neither of us knew when or where it would be. We waited. I'm sure they waited.
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