Now, after four dark years of German occupation, we were singing directly at the enemy soldiers, some of whom lifted their guns and pointed them at us. They didn’t shoot; they were too terrified at the overwhelming reaction all around them. We’d endured their presence until now, avoided them as best we could, lived with their rules and coped with hunger and privations. But the tables had turned. This was their last breath in Paris and they knew it. Only the curfew prevented us from running into the streets and dancing, but as the bells continued to ring out, we were still able to show them how
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