Wulfe, how do you do it? Even a simple meeting with parents sounds epic. Really great style!

25-26 March, 1916
Somewhere north of Verdun behind enemy lines
Adjutant Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Voscadeaux was running towards the Meuse. A column of black smoke behind him betrayed the location of his landing spot. With a heavy heart Gaston had to set his downed Nieuport on fire. It was brand new but he couldn’t allow the enemy to get their hands on it. He was sweating profusely by the time he reached the eastern bank of the river and his lungs were screaming for more air. The water was frigid but he entered the watercourse and sloshed his way up north, submerged up to his knees. He thought it would confuse his pursuers if he went up north instead of the obvious southern route. Perhaps they won’t even consider searching north? Voscadeaux couldn’t feel his feet after spending this long in the near-freezing temperatures of the rushing river. He was also worried he may be spotted from the opposite bank. The French pilot was forced to leave water and move inland. Fortunately the ground had thawed in this area, so he wouldn’t leave any tracks in the snow. It was difficult to walk and Gaston exerted a lot of energy to drag himself to a nearby hut. It was empty but it didn’t look abandoned. There were empty fishing nets stretched out on the lines near the house. Voscadeaux used the last of his strength to climb the ladder leaning against the exterior wall. It lead to the attic filled with bales of straw and old tools. Gaston was shivering. He touched his forehead, it was burning up. His body was clammy from the sweat. He covered himself with as much straw as he could and fell asleep. He woke up in the middle of the night. An owl was hooting nearby within the attic. There were stars coming through the opening he came through. Gaston was cold and gathered more straw around him to cover himself completely. He was thirsty and his lips were all cracked but he was too weak to come down and look for water. His uniform was damp and all he could do was to suckle on the frozen sleeve of his coat. He fell asleep again.
Voscadeaux woke up to the sound of creaking wood planks and footsteps. The sun was up and the rays were poking through the gaps in the siding of the house walls. Through his straw cover Gaston could see a black military style boot standing only centimetres away from his face.

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."