[razorboy]

Peddling up the hill through the grove of Olive Trees I consider my next move. I'm making good time and approaching the rally point, but I didn't consider that 17 year old Wehrmacht guard at the crossroads that I am now rapidly approaching.
Raising his Mauser he shouts "Halt" in as manly a voice as he can summon. Crouching low I tighten my grip upon the handle bar and peddle like mad, heading straight for the German as fast as I can. He shouts "Halt" once again, and fires. I fall off of the bicycle and barrel roll to a stop ....... fatally wounded. Everything slowly fades to black, my chest throbbing, I relax and accept my fate. Expiring in this Sicilian dirt road.