 France was falling. Burned-out cars, once strapped high with treasured possessions, were nosed crazily into ditches. Their beloved cargoes of dolls, clocks, and mirrors lay smashed around them and along mile upon mile of unfriendly road. Their owners, young and old, sprawled across the hot dust and were groaning or already silent. Yet the hordes just kept streaming past them, a never-ending line of hunger and exhaustion, too fearful to stop for days on end.