In Yorkshire, four triangular cheese and pickle sandwiches were laid on a gingham tablecloth as Europe celebrated Hitler’s defeat. In Burma, the war wasn’t over.
“I’ll cover your post, Petty,” Cope piped up. “Pass him a comb. Lord knows when a posh medic might visit us again.” A light chuckle rippled through their fellow gunners.
That morning, Cope took Petty’s spot to continue the push on the retreating Japanese. But as the 7.2-inch howitzer backfired, Cope’s service was cut short.
Petty returned later to discover a leg up in a tree and nothing else.
In Burma, the war still wasn’t over.