In the flying leaves of the sycamore trees, Lauren drove Shire towards the tank base.
It wasn't a pleasant experience, as the cars of this era were semi-open; when the car sped up, fruit hairs would hit Shire's face in the strong wind, sometimes even getting into his eyes and nostrils, causing both pain and itching.
Shire had to pull down his military cap and raise his collar to cover his mouth and nose, looking as if he couldn't face anyone.
Despite this, people on the sides of the streets still recognized Shire, waving excitedly at him, and some even ran a short distance behind the car.
Shire found this behavior quite boring. What could they achieve by catching up? Expressing admiration or asking for an autograph? What significance would that hold for them?
After more than half an hour, the car finally reached its destination.
Perhaps because there were fewer sycamore trees in this area, the number of fruit hairs in the air had significantly decreased.
