I was furious and very "fed-up," but that did not help, so turning in my seat and raising my hand I said, "Gutten Morgen." This surprised them so much that they forgot to be rude and mostly returned the compliment. The immediate treatment I received was rather better than I had expected. Several officers came forward, and one, who held a revolver, told me in broken English to get out.
I had no chance of resistance, as the country was quite open and my boots were off, so sitting up I greeted him with a "Gutten Morgen." He told me I was near Achiet-le-Petit, and then motioned me to go with him to the village, which I did.
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