He thought for a while and then said, "I think you may find a bed for yourself and your man in the prison." The words had an ominous sound, but I remembered how often people at home found refuge for the night in the police station.

He told me to go down the road to the third farmhouse, where I should find the quarters of some Highland officers and men.

The farm was called the prison, because it was the place in which captured Germans were to be held until they were sent down the line.

Followed by Murdoch, I made my way again down the busy road now crowded with transports, troops and ambulances.

It was hard to dodge them in the mud and dark.