The service they find a test of their patience and their bladders and when they follow the verger from the church, take the opportunity to turn right out of the town.
Moving off the road and into the woods to obey the call of nature they pass haystacks, one of which is actually a disguised pillbox.
Unexpectedly they come across a manned guard post and are asked at gunpoint to show their papers and explain their presence.
Sweat breaks out on their foreheads, is this it?
Fortunately their papers pass inspection and their excuse accepted with a smile.
They turn back and stroll along the quayside, observing the state of the tide, depth of water and suitability as a port to unload supplies once the invasion has started.
The defences seem poor, Anti glider poles in the meadows behind the town, a few pillboxes, plenty of sandbagged positions, but little wire, no sign of minefields and few Anti tank obstacles.
The harbour can obviously handle barge traffic though there seems to be no mechanical means of loading or unloading.
Their studies are interrupted by the approach of a policeman,
Palms sweating, mouths dry, they turn and enter the pub opposite , exchanging a cheerful good evening with the constable.
As they emerge from the pub they pass the police station where a captured airman is being escorted to a military car, grateful that it is not they, for a firing squad awaits if they are caught.