By the time we return , the village is sprucing itself up for the 11.15 am service of commemoration at the war memorial. Two small French tricolores are fluttering from the flag poles outside the town hall and the mayor is on top of a ladder fixing the Republique Francaise shield to the front of the obelisk. He waves, precariously, and asks if we will be joining them for a vin d'honneur and lunch in the village hall. Across on the other side of the village green the salle de fete is a bustling hive of activity. The ladies of the 'beautiful byways' committee are there en masse preparing the lunch. The little lady in the purple hat trots out and proudly hands me a menu.
Wilf looks very interested. He whole heartedly approved of the soupcon of jambon which Madame Bay brought for his lunch yesterday.The smell of the pate en croute seems to have quite taken his fancy this morning and he is loathe to return home. "Perhaps we could try it just to make sure it's alright ? " .