I’ve next swig,” Horst calls from behind me as I fumble with the bottle opener on the Barolo.

My fingers are numb from the bouncing steering wheel, thereby slowing down my already alcohol-impaired ability to do anything requiring fine motor skills.

“Damn it, Peter, I’m thirsty!” Horst yells as he kicks my seat from behind.

“I’m opening i….”

BOOOM BOOM BOOOOM BOOOM BOOM BOOOM BOOOOM

Before I can say the word it, a series of explosions rock the beach, spraying sand and dirt into the Kubelwagen from all directions.