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It was a little strange to me that bright day in 1943, but there it was — Germans working on the highway right in front of our store. I ran to bring Gerald so he could share in my discovery. Not much happened in Centrahoma back then, and not too much going on over there now — but we were delighted to see the dreaded “Huns” under armed guard and patching Highway 3. Soon other civilians joined us, leaning in and seeking a better view of these “monsters.” It was a glorious and wonderful experience for me until my mom came out and chased me back into the house. “I don’t want you anywhere near those ‘Nazis,’” she said. “They’re dangerous. Don’t even look!”