Paris, 1940: Walking through Montmartre that morning was like the eerie calm right before a storm. \'You must write about the day freedom left Paris.\' As Nazi troops occupy the City of Lights, American journalist Florence is determined to do everything. \'You must write about this, \' he whispered to me.
Columns and columns of soldiers, spreading through the streets like a toxic grey vapour.
We carried on, arm in arm, and then finally, we saw them.
The roads were deserted.
Paris, 1940: Walking through Montmartre that morning was like the eerie calm right before a storm