They knew we were coming - they knew it was just a matter of when, and this was our only advantage - unless we had been careless, they would never know, but still the odds were against us. We knew what was required of us, but the shear numbers were against us.
It's foggy now, the sun is setting, and as if our mission is not dangerous enough, we have decided on a night mission - both danger and advantage are multiplied 10 fold, it's our only hope. St Mihiel is desolate this time of year, no ground markers, no roads to follow, just the fine line between black and darkest grey.
We are not yet airborne, but already we are beyond the point of no return.
At sunset we fly.
