REVISED TODAY (Old Version Below)

The phenomenon occurred on March 14th, 1944; my final day in Roanne. It so happened that as a result of my lonesome condition, I had developed a level of closeness with those peaceful urban acres. For that reason, I awoke that morning at three--an hour before the Company was scheduled to assemble--so I might pass my valedictions to that charming town that had found its place among my affections. Since the brighter times of day were inclined to congested avenues and blaring noises, my intimacy with Roanne could only occur in those earlier hours before the sun had peeked on the horizon. So I took to the streets when gloominess reigned, even though it meant visual impairment--given that was a trivial price to yield serenity.

*** Old Version

My last day in Roanne was near the end of March, 1944. While the date regrettably escapes me, when considering the years between then and now, I marvel at my capacity to approximate the month’s progress. I awoke that morning at three--an hour before the Company was scheduled to assemble--so I might pass my valedictions to that charming town that had found its place among my affections. The brighter times of day were inclined to congested avenues and blaring noises; so my intimacy with Roanne could only be when the light was scarcely peeking from the distant eastern fields. Therefore I took to the barren streets when gloominess reigned, and paid the toll of impaired vision--given that it was a trivial price to yield a serene ambiance.

The timing seems off to me. In the first sentence we are dealing with the last day in this place, and in the next we are talking about the entire month's build up -- to what? because the next sentence we go right back to the last day, or so I assume.

I agree with Survivor, this piece needs some clarity before I'd read on.

Also, consider giving the reader some hint or tidbit why this day is so important. I don't feel that you'll need to spell it out in its entirety, but I personally need a little small something to hook me. Since the story is clearly being told after the fact, this affords the narrator a lot freedom in developing the reason why the narrator is telling the story in the first place... immediately.

And every bit as important, consider developing who the narrator is, why he or she is in Roanne (is "Company" a military thing?), and what have you. If you're able to develop the narrator's name, or gender, or social status, or all of these things right away, even better. We like to know who we are reading about.

For instance, if one is writing a military story, it could start something like:

---My name is John Dieter, but thirty years ago the soliders in my unit called me "Squirrel." ---

Good luck with your story.

, I marvel at my capacity to approximate the month’s progress. – I read this several times and still made no real sense out of it. You are using too many complex words, for one thing – marvel, capacity, approximate, progress. I have no idea, just reading along what you mean. Now, if I stop and think maybe I could figure it out, but I don’t want to do that. That’s your job. Make it clear.

I’d really like something to catch my attention, to raise my interest here. Why should I read this? I see no new insights to the human condition or to the day in this town. Nothing here arouses my curiosity. So he (he, who?) was there in some probably European country during WWII. Big deal…so far.

I think you could put something interesting before this and manage to hold onto me through this detail stuff.

Hmmm…something. The waking at 3 and the intimacy seem to need to be together.

My intimacy with Roanne could only be when the light was scarcely peeking from the distant eastern fields, so I awoke that morning at three – an hour before the Company was scheduled to assemble.

The phenomenon occurred on March 14th, 1944; my final day in Roanne. It so happened that as a result of my lonesome condition, I had developed a level of closeness with those peaceful urban acres. For that reason, I awoke that morning at three--an hour before the Company was scheduled to assemble--so I might pass my valedictions to that charming town that had found its place among my affections. Since the brighter times of day were inclined to congested avenues and blaring noises, my intimacy with Roanne could only occur in those earlier hours before the sun had peeked on the horizon. So I took to the streets when gloominess reigned, even though it meant visual impairment--given that was a trivial price to yield serenity.

Not everyone will automatically assume a Mediterranean setting, I'm not really sure that it should be assumed, but the information seems to suggest it. You can work on establishing that better, a single judicious adjective applied to the town would accomplish it. One thing I note, you say "distant east". I'm going to assume this means that this is on the eastern coast of some country or other, in which case it seems a shame that you don't specifically mention the sea. If I'm wrong, then we'll need a bit more information as to what you mean. Basically, don't force your readers to Google things.