.....on the south side of the Alps, the spear-head platoon, consisting of troops flown in from Canada supported by
local trackers, prepare to meet the main force. Meeting point has been set to Berceto.
Berceto is a nice little town in the Appeninni, on the old road via Francigena.
But the story begins somewhat earlier.
On the 17th of April, in good time before arrival of the main force, two American spies (marked in RED) and one
Australian spy (marked in BLUE because it is believed that he originally is from the Maldives in the Indian Ocean), and a
local tracker set out on the long and arduous travel. The goal of the mission was simple: Bring back photos of Berceto.
The photo was discretely taken by a local peasant while the spies hurriedly had something to eat before continuing.
The spies barely made it across Passo della Cisa. The temperature was well below 10C, it was fog, it was raining.
In particular the Maldivian-Australian special forces suffered from a slight climate-chock.
This surveillance camera picture reveals how the spies with blended perfectly in with the locals.
The piazza is Absolutely No Parking, 0 - 24h, and "Towing without Warning"-zone.
Only one thing escaped the spies.
Fast forward to D-Day.
On D-Day the Canadian troops, as said supported by locally recruited trackers, set out towards Berceto.
Based on intelligence brought back by the spies.
The sun is shining, and everything seems to be going well.
That is until the troops pass through the first control post set up by opposing forces.
The local tracker simply pay some bribes to the soldiers manning the post, and they lift the barrier
so he can drive through. The Commander of the Canadian troops, however, makes a small mistake.
He blames "sand" but it is not clear what this means. In any case, before he knows it his horse has thrown
him off, he is on the ground and the horse crashes down with him.
The local trackers rush back and whisk the Canadian through the check point.
Here, the second mistake was made. It was believed that the troops manning the check-point would not
remember this Canadian guy. He would have to pay for that mistake later.
Trying to shake off the mishap, the spear-head platoon rushes along. The rushing becomes trotting, becomes
walking, and almost comes to a stand-still. The temperature drops, drops, and drops.
At the pass we see 7C. Not nice at all.
It becomes evident that the spies missed an important observation: It always rains in Berceto. At least, it rained then,
and it rains now. A lot. Cold, cold rain.
They arrive in Berceto, just to find a very yellow motorbike parked outside a bar. Inside, among the locals, they see a large man
in an insanely yellow rain-suit. After a short discussion, it is decided to discretely approach this man.