As the aging horse, ribs pushing against his brown and white hide, pulled the creaking cart towards the loading bays, two men clad in khaki battle fatigues, stepped out into the road, barring the way. “Sweet Jesus, of all the luck. We are a day too late,” whispered Sowerbutt. “The LDVs, the Look-Duck-Vanish brigade, have taken over. Or they call them the Home Guard now, don’t they?”
The two grey-haired men, wearing badly-fitting uniforms, had seen many summers. The tall lean one was armed with what looked like a medieval pike, the shorter tubby man with single white stripes on his sleeves was pointing a long-barrel gun at the cart. Sowerbutt feared the weapons were on loan from the Swansea Museum; he was worried about the trembling finger on the ancient musket’s trigger. “Halt,” shouted the tubby lance-corporal holding up a shaking hand. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA
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