After leaving Church-Fenton Air Force Base, John and his party did not return to London. Pen ~ Fun ~ Cabinet www.biquge.info Sparts got out of the car at Clifton, and tomorrow he was going to see an Australian infantry division stationed there, where they were said to be reloading Thomson submachine guns with American aid. Donovan was going further north to Scotland, where he would inspect the "Special Operations Committee" training base.

As for John, he found a country inn in North Yorkshire. Yorkshire, in the eastern foothills of the Pennines, with its vast plains, hills, valleys, meadows and marshes, is a paradise compared to London, which is strained by German bombers that could come at any moment.

As the "home of textiles" and an important granary of the United Kingdom, one-fifth of the island's food output currently comes from here. Think about it, clean air, "abundant and varied" food replenishment, no air raid sirens, curfews and no light controls. John himself felt that it was too wise to "hide" here under the banner of investigation.

Anyway, Donovan had already quietly revealed to him that the delegation would be withdrawn in a few days. Also, now that the domestic election campaign has entered a critical stage, how can those senior White House aides and congressmen in the delegation stay there?

John had already made up his mind, and he was here before the expedition retreated. During the day, he could wander around and admire the idyllic scenery, learn about the wartime village life and agricultural production in Britain, and at night he could write reports quietly in his inn.

Even Donovan was very "approving" with John's choice. As an important ally of the Vanderbilt family, he certainly didn't want any accidents with John, the "key cultivation" target of his faction. He made an appointment with John to return to London, left him a chauffeur and a Wolseley, and left.

During his first two days in the country, John lived a "fairy-like" life. Wake up until you wake up every day, and you can eat freshly baked Yorkshire pudding and gingerbread. Even though the nearby rose garden has been converted into a potato field, he can still sell handmade rose candy from a village grocery store. John spent £6 shillings on two large glass jars to take home as a gift to little Ella.

But it didn't last long, and one afternoon, John got into big trouble while wandering around. Speaking of which, it's entirely his own fault.

It all started with a casual conversation between him and the hostess at lunch that day. At that time, the proprietress told him that in the afternoon, the guys in the store were going to the "forbidden area" 40 kilometers away to buy chicory (the root can be used for coffee). John then remembered that when he went to the embassy to deliver his report the other day, he heard the embassy secretary say that the White House had asked them to pay close attention to the British public's views on the censorship and counter-espionage activities of enemy nationals.

Not long ago, the British Home Secretary issued an order banning pro-German fascist organizations in his country and intensifying the scrutiny of enemy nationals. Of course, Europe was such a big place, and before the war, people-to-people exchanges between countries were too frequent. From King George VI to ordinary people, who don't have a foreign relative. It was obviously impossible for the British Government to arrest all expatriates from the German-occupied territories.

In fact, since the outbreak of the war, Britain has only arrested 486 enemy nationals suspected of espionage, and more than 8,000 Germans and Austrians aged 16-60 with "fascist" tendencies have been placed under centralized residential surveillance.

John knew that the "forbidden zone" that the proprietress referred to was actually a place where the British government concentrated on these enemy nationals. Despite its name, the "forbidden zone" was a different story from the concentration camps where the Germans held Jews.

Aside from daily reporting to the police, not using vehicles such as cars and bicycles, and being forbidden to leave the house between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m., the daily life of the "enemy aliens" living there is not much different from that of the natives who stay in the restricted area (mainly for surveillance).

Out of curiosity, John offered to take the hostel's van to visit the "forbidden area", and the proprietress agreed without much thought.

In the afternoon, while the hostel guys were haggling with the grocery store owner, John walked around the so-called "forbidden area." In his opinion, this "forbidden area" is not much different from an ordinary English country town, except that there is an additional guard post at the bridge head of the town in and out of the town.

There are about three to four hundred homes in the town, a church, a post office, a police station, a Salvation Army clinic (an international religious and charitable organization originating in England), a few small grocery stores and a small food processing factory.

This is because most of the adult males here, both locals and forcibly relocated expatriates, work on nearby farms and small processing plants. There were only a few old people, women and children on the street.

It seems to be quite harmonious. John compared this place with the "concentration camps" where the United States detained Japanese expatriates during the war, and felt that the British were quite humane in this regard. Of course, strictly speaking, the Anglo-Saxons are also a branch of the Germanic people, unlike the Japanese, who are completely biracial with white Americans.

When John wanders around town alone, he doesn't know he's been targeted. It's no wonder that a well-dressed stranger with a foreign accent wanders around town, and no one looks suspicious.

In fact, when John bought a pack of cigarettes from a small cigarette stand, the old lady who sold the cigarettes turned around and went to the police station to report him. Soon, John was taken down by a group of police officers and escorted back to the police station.

That's when John realized that something was wrong. blamed myself for being too relaxed and comfortable in the past two days, and my thoughts were paralyzed and careless. Now he wears civilian clothes, with nothing in his pocket but a wallet and a diplomatic passport.

Tell them you're here to buy chicory? The clothes and shoes on his body alone were worth more than the truckload of chicory, and the ghost would believe him.

Take out your diplomatic passport and say you're an American military officer coming to investigate? Those cops would definitely feel like they were insulting their intelligence. Besides, what spy doesn't have a few fake documents on him?

To make matters worse, the British government can now reward up to £150 for every German spy caught. John didn't think he would be more attractive in front of them than £150.

Sure enough, even if the innkeeper rushed over when he heard the news and said a bunch of good things for John, the town police resolutely refused to let him go. In fact, if this guy hadn't been a local, and everyone knew about it, the police might have arrested him together.

In desperation, John could only look at the guy and ask the guy to go back quickly to inform his driver, and then told the other party over and over again that he was an American citizen, not a German spy, and asked to take him to the higher authorities to verify his identity.

Fortunately, this is the first time these policemen in the town have encountered this kind of thing, and they are not only excited, but they themselves don't know what to do for a while. After a long discussion with several policemen, it was finally decided to send two men to escort John to the Leeds City Police Station.

Poor John was just handcuffed and stuffed into the sidecar of a three-wheeled motorcycle. During the more than 80-kilometre journey to Leeds, John, who almost didn't get thrown up, kept calling himself a stupid pig with a long memory.

Isn't the lesson of the last time in Lyon enough, and now he has sent himself into the game again. Fortunately, a lieutenant colonel was arrested as a German spy. At the embassy, Thomas probably could smile crookedly. If this news is reported back to China, John will really have no face to mix in the military circles.