by Max Ciampoli
I came upon a small forest beside a lake. I removed the uniform and tied it securely to the back of the motorcycle. Then I got on again, revved it up, and started it in the direction of the butte above the lake. As it picked up speed, I jumped off and all vestiges of the German military went sailing into the sky and then gracefully fell toward the water, finally disappearing in the lake. I stood and watched, happy within myself to be the French Michel Carbonell again. Even playacting as a member of the Wehrmacht left me feeling violated and disgusted.
I walked out of the forest and took the path in the direction from which I had just come. It was still lightly raining. I had passed a farm that had a lot of chickens, goats, and sheep. As I came close, I saw a woman playing with her little boy. He looked to be between two and three.
“Bonjour, madame. Terrible weather we’re having! But the rain has finally stopped. Is your husband at home?”
Her eyes saddened, and the smile left her face. “No, he isn’t home, and he’ll never return. The Germans took him prisoner and sent him to Germany. I was told that he escaped, was captured, and then shot to death about a year and a half ago. He never even knew his son.”
The woman was very young, nineteen or twenty years old. She asked, “Did you know my husband? What did you want of him?”
“No,” I replied, “I didn’t know him, but I am sorry for your loss. It is only out of courtesy to the lady of the house that I asked after your husband. Since you are now the head of the household, I would like to know if you have a few days’ work that I could do in exchange for food and a place to stay. I would be happy to sleep in the barn. I’ve come a long way, and I’m hungry and very tired.”
“Gladly,” she responded. “Come into the house and I’ll get you something to eat.” She turned and headed toward the door. I followed her into a very large room. It was the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. There was a massive fireplace with two benches inside that could easily seat four people. An enormous copper pot was hanging in the center of the fireplace. In the middle of the room was a long, traditional farm table with bowls carved into it. Beautiful large wooden beams crossed the ceiling. One wall had low windows with narrow, rectangular panes framed in wood.
She pointed to a photo on the buffet. “That was our wedding photo. He was handsome, wasn’t he? And such a good man,” she said nostalgically. “He was kind to everyone. He was a blacksmith and a very good one, too. He was a very hard worker and a good provider. But I’ve gone on long enough. Please, sit down, monsieur. Would you like a bowl of goat’s milk with some bread?”
“Yes, I would,” I answered instantly.
She continued, “Sorry I have no coffee to offer you. As I’m sure you know, it is very difficult to come by these days. I do have that substitute coffee made from burned grain, if you like, but it’s really not very good. I don’t care for it myself.”
“The goat’s milk will be just fine,” I said, “and I thank you for your kindness.”
“Would you like it cold or warm?”
Still chilled from the rain, I replied, “Warm, please. It will heat up my insides.”
She warmed and served the milk with a half loaf of bread. As I ate, she continued talking. “Enough of this formality. My name is Emma. What’s yours?”
“My name is Michel. Michel Carbonell. At least, so it says here on my identification card,” I said half jokingly as I pulled it from my pocket and handed it to her.
“Hmm,” she mused. “I see you are a farm animal salesman by profession in the Free Zone. Of course you are,” she said suspiciously.
“After you finish eating, go into the first bedroom on the left. I still have all my husband’s clothes. I’ll bring you something dry to put on.”
She reflected, “He loved me so much, and I fell hopelessly in love with him the first time we met. Within two months I was pregnant. I’m sure you know how it is in small towns. They all turn their backs on you if you’re pregnant and not married. Well, I told him that I was pregnant, and he suggested we marry right away. A few months later, he left to fight against the Germans. That was it. He never returned. I am all alone—well, not really. My child and I have each other. I have no other relatives. My husband’s family was killed when France was occupied.”
She directed me toward the bedroom. “Take off your wet clothes. I’ll hang them by the fire and get you something to put on. And don’t worry about a thing. You are hired, even without references. My closest neighbor is the mailman who lives three kilometers away. I rarely see him because I don’t receive any mail.” Of course, she told me that to make me feel safe from intruders. She obviously wasn’t afraid of me at all.
As I entered the bedroom, the bed looked so fluffy and inviting. “The bed looks very comfortable. Would you mind if I took a nap?”
“Not at all. I’ll bring you the change of clothes right away.”
“Would you have a razor in the house? I’d like to shave.” I wanted to change my look because of the Wanted posters.
“Of course, I do. I’ll bring it along with the clothes. Oh, it’s such a pleasure to talk to someone! Tomorrow, if you will watch my child, I’ll take my bicycle to the village of Mirecourt, which is fifteen kilometers from here. I need to buy some supplies. Oh yes, a change of clothes and the razor,” she reminded herself. “Just leave your things right here by the door, and I’ll put them by the fireplace.”
She returned with dry clothes and placed them on the chair next to the door and called to me, “Rest well, now. I’ll wake you for dinner. Perhaps, you’ll tell me what’s happening out there in the world. If you’re thirsty, we have a wonderful spring in the back. I could bring you some water, if you like. It’s delicious and icy cold.”
I called back, “For the moment, I’m just fine, and thank you for everything.”
Though the bed felt wonderful, I couldn’t sleep. I thought about the day to come and the one after that. I knew I was near the Vosges Mountains and that I needed to go toward Melun to the east, or toward Nogent-sur-Seine where I knew some members of Combat who could help me. I was sure that all the roads were being searched for my whereabouts. Thank God, I had had the knowledge to take the motorcycle with the sidecar. It was equipped with the traction to take me along those muddy pathways and through the wooded areas where the Germans were probably not searching. I had put quite a distance between the encampment and the farm where I was staying, about a hundred kilometers or so.
Since I couldn’t sleep, I figured that I might as well get up. I went to the door, opened it, and picked up the dry change of clothes. Extraordinary! It was as if they were made for me—except for the shoulders, which were too narrow, the sleeves, which were too short, and the pants, which would barely go over my muscled thighs. I dressed as best I could and went into the kitchen, where Emma was preparing dinner. She turned around when she heard my steps and burst out laughing. She woke the boy with her outburst. He started crying. She excused herself right away and ran over to comfort her child from his fright.
“I’m so sorry for laughing. Please excuse me. My husband’s clothes are way too small for you. I just didn’t think. I have my father-in-law’s clothes here as well. They’ll be too big, but at least you’ll be able to get into them. As soon as my baby quiets down, I’ll go get something for you to put on. You’ll keep an eye on the rabbit while I’m gone. I’m preparing a stew in white wine.”
When the youngster calmed down, she left the two of us in the kitchen and went to search for clothes. The boy seemed very good-natured. Emma returned with a bathrobe, slippers, corduroy pants, a shirt, and handmade virgin wool socks. “I’ll put these in the bedroom so you can change right away.”
I went back to the room and put on the robe and slippers. The robe was big, but it was just fine and the slippers fit well enough, too. “For someone who was raised so formally,” I said softly, chuckling to myself, “I seem to be wearing bathrobes to meals a lot during this war.”
When I retu
rned to the big room, she said, smiling at me, “That’s much better.”
“Your little boy is adorable. He seems to be a very happy child. He was showing me his toys while you were gone.”
“Yes, he is wonderful. I am really very lucky. I’m raising him without any help, so I’m grateful that he is such a delight. He has no one to talk to except me, which makes it extremely difficult. We listen to the radio and to the records I have of Tino Rossi, Edith Piaf, Jean Sablon, and Caruso, but we don’t have the opportunity to see people too often.”
The young woman talked nonstop. Of course, she did, and I understood. She was starved for human contact. I listened politely as she talked about everything. In the early evening, I excused myself to change into her father-in-law’s clothes. The little boy was playing with his toys on a thick rug in the corner of the kitchen that was fenced off for him.
When I came back, she said, “Michel, come over and sit with me on the sofa. I can watch my boy from here.” I went over and sat down.
“What do you want to know about the outside world?” I asked her.
“I listen to the radio every day, but I know it goes through German censors. Since we’re located at the very bottom of the valley, we cannot receive signals from radio stations like Brazzaville or the BBC from London. The BBC in English wouldn’t do me any good, anyway”—she laughed—“since I don’t understand the language. I can’t receive the BBC in French, either. I do understand some German, though, since my parents were from Alsace. At home, we always spoke Alsatian.”
“What I can tell you, Emma, is that soon there will be an Allied landing in France. The war should be over within a year.”
“That’s wonderful news! Tell me, Michel, where did you come from today?”
“I parachuted into Neufchâteau and planned to go toward Vesoul, taking the Saône or the Rhône Valley. But assessing the situation, with so many Germans around, I’m in no hurry to leave. If I’m caught, they will probably send me into forced labor in Germany.”
“Oh, you’re right to stay here. Stay as long as you’d like. You’ll be safe with us,” she urged with a tone of desperation.
“Does any military traffic pass by?”
“None at all. This road doesn’t lead anywhere. It just ends at the bottom of the valley. You’ll be just fine. Thank you so much for stopping at my home. I needed some human contact. You have no idea what your presence means to me. I have a feeling that you are strong and determined and will succeed in all that you do.”
She had suffered incredible loss, and her great need for love and caring was evident. She was so sweet and sincere, so simple and naïve. She had never been out of this valley. Her knowledge of the world was so limited. She was totally innocent and trusting. What a breath of fresh air in a world filled with cruelty.
THIRTY
Sanctuary
We chatted for a while, and then all of a sudden Emma jumped up and announced, “Dinner is ready!” It smelled so good. She had made the rabbit with potatoes, carrots, and onions. I sat down at the large table and the young girl put a serving in my carved-out bowl. I tasted it and generously complimented her on the dinner. In truth, it needed a lot of help in its seasoning. Some red wine would have made it so much better. We ate for a while in silence. Then I asked, “What work would you like me to start with tomorrow? I always wake up before dawn, so you really need to tell me tonight.”
“You don’t have to get up that early here, but the rooster crows before daybreak, and he would wake you anyway,” she laughed. “I’ll be up to fix you your breakfast. We can talk about what needs to be done then. After dinner, we need to go look for some work clothes for you.”
When we finished dinner, she led me to the other part of the house where her father-in-law used to live. “After work, if you’d like, you can rest in my father-in-law’s side of the house. The only drawback is that the walls are very cold, and I’m not heating that side right now. Our only heat comes from the fireplaces. So, probably, you would be more comfortable staying in our side of the house after all. Anyway, the company would do me good, if you don’t mind.”
As we approached the door leading to the other side, she said, “Here’s the key. Go get some clothes and come back to warm yourself by the fire.”
I opened the door and entered, but I couldn’t find any light. I returned to her kitchen right away. “Where might I find a carbide or an oil lamp?” I asked.
“Of course, I should have thought of that!” she replied and brought me a carbide lamp right away. I checked to see if there was enough water in the reservoir. There wasn’t, so I went over to the kitchen pump to fill it. The blue flame was really beautiful. I then went back to her father-in-law’s side and entered one of the bedrooms. There was nothing in the armoire. Then I opened the door of another room and found wall-to-wall clothing. There were several military uniforms from the artillery unit with the stripes of captain as well as a huge selection of other clothing. I tried on a hat. It was a little big, but I could add a strip of something on the inside to make it fit. The jacket was huge on me but over a shirt and sweater, it would be just fine. The pants fit perfectly. What I really needed were short pants to work in the mud, several shirts, overalls, and a straw hat. I tried on the shoes. They were too big, but I would make do.
I gathered the work clothes and a pair of pajamas in my arms and returned to Emma’s. I showed her what I had chosen. She was so happy that I was able to find something to wear. I could see it in her sparkling eyes and pleasant attitude. What an angel!
Now that my stomach was full and I had found the clothes I needed, I asked, “So, what work would you like me to begin with tomorrow?”
“We need more wood cut for heating and cooking,” she said. “The fences for the sheep have fallen over. I’ve lost all control of the animals. The cages for the chickens and the rabbits need to be repaired. I am sure you will find plenty to do. Start where you would like. I hope it is not too much to ask.”
Changing the subject, she said, “Let’s listen to the radio now. I’ll put my boy to sleep and then join you. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa.”
I turned on the radio and found Radio Toulouse that was advertising, at that moment, “Herbes Zan,” a catchy commercial for herbs. It made me think of Josephine. She liked the tune and would sing it a lot. And Radio Toulouse was her favorite radio station.
Emma came over to the sofa and sat down. I told her about Josephine Baker and how nice she was to me when I was a little boy. I told her about my childhood, about my tutor retired from the Austrian cavalry, about riding horseback with him almost every day. She interrupted, “Oh, you ride! My husband and I used to go riding all the time! We have two horses. We can go riding together.”
“But what will you do with the boy while we go riding?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something. Could you trim the horses’ hooves tomorrow so that we can plan to go riding? Their hooves haven’t been trimmed in such a long time.”
She talked on and on, jumping quickly from one subject to another. “My neighbor, the mailman, came over to cut the hay for us, and I gave him as much hay as he wanted in exchange. I still have a lot left over because we don’t have the number of animals that we used to before the Germans occupied France. I sell the hay that is left over. We used to have twenty cows whose milk we sold. We had a lot more goats and sheep as well as two oxen, a donkey, and a mule. My husband worked with those animals to run the farm besides working as a blacksmith. We didn’t do badly at all. When the Germans came, they took almost all of the animals. If I had only known what was going to happen, I would have fed them arsenic so that the Nazi troops would have been poisoned while they ate,” she said with anger in her voice.
Suddenly, she was in a fury. She had lost so much. I said to her gently, “You know, all the Germans are not bad. They were called to serve their country as we were called to serve our own.”
“Well, they didn’t have to kill my husba
nd, his parents, my parents, the two oxen, all the cows, the donkey, and the mule,” she blurted out. She was visibly shaken. She had had to overcome so much alone and at such a young age. She had probably been sixteen years old or so and pregnant when France was occupied.
As we listened to the radio, she calmed down and eventually fell asleep next to me. After a while, I got up very quietly so as not to disturb her and went to the bedroom to go to sleep myself. I awoke during the night to go to the bathroom. I checked on Emma. She was sitting up reading on the sofa. “You’re not tired?” I asked.
“Yes, I am but ...” She hesitated. “This is difficult for me to say, but you’re sleeping in my bedroom.”
“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t know. I thought you had another room,” I explained.
“It was my fault. I didn’t tell you,” she said. “The other room is the baby’s room. If you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, I’ll bring you a pillow and blankets. I sleep so much better in my own bed.”
She brought me two blankets and a pillow, then went to her bedroom. During the night, I heard the child calling out. I went to his room, picked him up, and held him in my arms. Once again, he was all smiles when he saw me. After a time, I put him back to bed and returned to the sofa. It was still dark outside. Soon after, she passed by the sofa to go to the bathroom. She must have noticed that my eyes were open.
“I thought I heard my little boy a while ago. Did you?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. I went to his room to quiet him down so that you could sleep. Again, I saw that wonderful smile of his. He is such a good boy. After I held him a few minutes, he was ready to go back to sleep.”
“Thank you so much,” she said, with an endearing look on her face. “Michel, may I sit down next to you? As long as you’re awake, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
