All Things New

by Felicia Mires

  He chose an area of the tunnel where he thought there was nothing overhead to block the signal. After checking that he had all the components plugged into the optimum arrangement, Jacob switched on the power. No response. He knew which configurations of crystals worked best in the fall, so he rearranged them to try another frequency. He didn't understand how the seasons influenced frequencies, he just accepted that it did and responded appropriately.

  "Stronghold, this is Lion. Stop."

  "Stronghold here. Stop."

  "We assume Albatross was overrun. Groundhog shot at that location. Gestapo dressed as French Police are operating location-finding radar in Unoccupied Zone. BBC warn all radio operators. I repeat…Gibbet is masquerading as French Police in Unoccupied Zone. BBC warn all radio operators. Stop."

  "Message received. Stronghold out."

  Jacob yanked the power on the radio and packed as fast as he could. He was still holding his aerial antenna when he heard a whistle. Grabbing the remainder of his gear, he ran through the tunnels, twisting and turning until he was completely lost. He didn't much care. If he was lost, so were the Gestapo because he knew his way through the tunnels a lot better than they did.

  He exited near the old Roman district of Fourviere, nowhere near where he needed to be. He looked up. The sky was much darker than he'd expected. Anyone out after curfew would probably be shot. He dropped to the ground and after repackaging his radio equipment, slid into the Saone River. The autumn night air might be cool, but the water felt warmer. What he wouldn't give to immerse himself in the relaxing currents.

  He walked his way across the river until he couldn't touch the bottom any longer then he tread water. The radio grew more and more heavy. His arms and legs ached with the struggle to keep his hands above water and the radio dry. When he stumbled out of the river several miles downstream, he looked back at the dripping path he'd left, a bad thing about coming out of the river. Fortunately, it was dark, and no one would be able to follow the trail of water.

  By this time, Ferdinand had probably long since ceased to wait for him on the edge of the quiet town. Dim lights showed the inhabitants to be safely indoors. As safe as anyone could be when faced with German occupation.

  Jacob began to walk, taking his time in returning to the house. He wanted to make sure he wasn't followed. He paused, listened, and circled back on himself too many times to count. By the time he knocked at their darkened windows, his teeth chattered so hard he had to clamp his jaw shut to prevent the noise. They were waiting up for him and brought him inside quickly.

  "Look at him, Ferdinand."

  "Oiu. It's into a hot bath with you."

  "I'll heat some food and make hot tea."

  When Jacob crawled out of the warm water, his repast waited at their heavy wooden kitchen table.

  Antoinette nodded at him and pushed the plate forward. "Eat, Jacques."

  They resisted asking questions, but Ferdinand shared what they knew while Jacob chewed.

  "I waited until I heard the whistles, just as you said. I hated to leave you there, but I'm glad you made it out. Antoinette had the BBC on when I got back. We listened for almost twenty minutes before they gave the signal. Gibbet has been playing hardball in the Bobby uniform. Free France better give the game a rest. Then we waited for you to come back."

  "We didn't see any surveillance vans in the area," said Antoinette confidently. "Ferdinand dallyed outside to see if they would come by."

  What a relief. It felt as if a weight had fallen off Jacob's shoulders. Now that the alert had been given, he could relax. Any resistance members who used a radio would take their life into their own hands.

  His eyes drooped. "Sorry."

  With the release of his burden, Jacob felt the overwhelming weariness from the physical trials he'd been through. In the last two days, he'd traveled over thirty miles by foot and almost two by river.

  "He's exhausted, Ferdinand. Put him in the bed. If anyone asks about him, we can say he came for the grape harvesting. There are never enough hands now that the Nazis have taken most of them to Germany."

  "Bah! It isn't safe to live in one's own country these days."

  Chapter 4

  For two years Chloe watched as her father struggled to hide all that went on in the village of Cachet from the Vichy government. One by one, the young people of France dwindled away as Germany offered them incentives to leave their homeland. The Germans lied and swindled. 'If France sends workers to the Reich, we will free political prisoners.' Though forced to post this fabrication, Prefect Remy Fabius did little to encourage the townspeople to comply. The townspeople of Cachet responded by sending their youth as far from the border as they could, hoping to outmaneuver the long arm of the Nazis.

  When confronted by the Vichy regime, Remy asserted that it was near to impossible to care for the vineyards in their area. If the Germans continued to steal manpower, they would have nothing left to drink! And the Germans favored the Beaujolais wines of the Lyon territory.

  By February of 1942, the Germans no longer asked politely. They instituted the Service for Obligatory Labor, and all citizens born between 1920-1922 were required to report for work in Germany. This affected neither Chloe nor Jean-Claude as they had been born in 1918 and 1916. However, if it became known that the prefect had never sent his children, of appropriate age, on previous calls for workers, there would have been a dearth of bureaucracy dropped down on their heads.

  It had been difficult enough to explain what happened to the treasures from the chateau museum. The Nazis informed Vichy of the loss. Thankfully, the representative sent to the chateau to investigate held little regard for the Nazi regime. When assured by Madame that the Germans didn't have the treasures, he didn't press for their exact whereabouts, and the matter dropped. It was widely known that the Mona Lisa, and several other historic masterpieces, had been spirited away from museums by well-meaning French patriots. Cachet, too, had done her part.

  After the first occupation, the town posted look-outs around the clock. They didn't ever again want to get caught unaware by the Germans. The men took turns guarding the wooded areas around the town. If Nazis approached their way again, the watchers would be ready to warn the citizens from phones on outlying farms.

  Late in September, Chloe awakened in the middle of the night to the shrill ring of the telephone. She tiptoed down the hall and heard her father answer. "Prefect Fabius."

  Her father listened to the report on the other end. "Oui, tres bien."

  He ended the connection then dialed a number. "This is Prefect Fabius. Please wake the Patron."

  There was a brief wait while the Patron was summoned then Chloe heard her father speak. "Patron, I'm sorry to awaken you, but the watchers have alerted me that Gestapo are approaching our area dressed as the police."

  Chloe could hear the sound of the Patron's voice but not his words. Then her father responded. "It seems to be a reconnaissance group to ferret out illegal radios. They were fitted with direction-finding wireless equipment. Non, we have no one from the underground in the area."

  He hung up and went back to bed. Chloe followed his example. Nearly an hour later, a knock sounded at the front door. Chloe crept to the head of the stairs and sat, curling her bare toes against the cold of the wooden step. Jean-Claude came up and sat beside her.

  Their father opened the door to admit two of the younger men from the village. Younger, because, unlike most of the town's inhabitants, they'd not yet reached fifty.

  There was a muffled conversation until her father recoiled from the men and shouted. "Mon Dieu, what have you done!"

  Remy stared at them in a stunned condition until one asked, "Prefect, what shall we do?"

  "It seems to me you've done quite enough already. Is it possible this will look like an accident?"

  The two men shook their heads. "Not unless they're idiots. But Prefect, it was an accident. We meant only to cause them a rough ride, blow out their tires…I don't know." The poor
man's voice trailed off. He was clearly terrified and expected Chloe's father to solve some problem. They must have done something horrible to bring her father to call on the name of God in such a manner.

  "It will look more like an accident if we do nothing tonight. Did you leave trails away from the scene?" Remy looked fierce as he tried to determine what should be done.

  Jean-Claude leaned close to Chloe and whispered in her ear. "Do you know what happened?"

  "No, but the phone rang earlier and Papan immediately called the Patron and told him that the Nazis are driving through our area, searching for illegal radios. They have a location-finder or something on their van."

  They heard soft feet pad toward them and jerked their heads around.

  "Maman!" Chloe gulped, feeling like a child caught with forbidden treats. "What are you doing out of bed?"

  "I might ask the same of you two. Go back to bed. Whatever it is, I'm sure your father can handle it."

  Jean-Claude looked as if he might argue, but he stood along with Chloe.

  Chloe ducked down and dropped a kiss on her mother's head. "Come and get me, if you need anything, Maman."

  Chloe heard nothing else that night, but she rose early, before it was clearly light outside, and readied herself for the day. She had a feeling that something was going to change for them all, and she had to be prepared. If only she knew how.

  Though she expected to work at the chateau, she felt it important to wear her best dress and shawl. She combed out her hair several times until it lay down her back like warm, brown silk. She scrubbed her face until it shined. She even touched her wrists with drops of her precious perfume, saved from the days when such things weren't rationed. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to be enough. When she could think of no other way to equip herself, she went downstairs.

  Her mother stood against the kitchen counter, rolling out flour, and underneath her apron, Maman wore her best Sunday dress. Apparently, Chloe wasn't the only one who felt they must be ready. Maman looked up as she came into the room, and Chloe noticed her red-rimmed eyes.

  "Maman, what's the matter?" Not that she expected an answer.

  But Maman broke down, wiping at her eyes with her apron. "Chloe, you saw the two men that came to the house in the middle of the night, Monsieur Rhodes and Monsieur Badcock?"

  Chloe nodded.

  "They saw a Gestapo van searching for illegal radios, using one of those direction-finding mechanisms. We don't know of anyone in the Resistance in our area." She made the last comment almost to herself. "It made the men angry, and they wanted to do some mischief, to annoy the Gestapo. They set up a sort of road hindrance." Her mother sighed deeply. "It was just supposed to slow them down, or blow out their tires, but they were going around the curve too quickly, and the van went off the road into the ravine. The soldiers are all dead."

  Someone would surely come looking for them, if they hadn't already, and if they thought the 'accident' was Resistance foul play, the entire town could be in danger. Of late, the Gestapo had begun to take a life for every life they lost to the Resistance, sometimes they killed even more citizens in their revenge.

  "What can I do, Maman?"

  "Nothing. Madame and the Patron have fled. Many of the other villagers have left also. They forget that it makes those of us left behind look even more guilty."

  "What about those who are truly guilty?" Chloe asked angrily.

  Her mother's head snapped up. "Don't be that way, Chloe. We all live the nightmare together. They meant no harm to their town, and they've stayed behind to face the Germans, though they sent their families away."

  Her mother needed to keep busy, but Chloe couldn't concentrate on anything and paced back and forth through the small house.

  Shortly before lunch-time, Jean-Claude hurried through the door. "Papan says they're on their way. And it's not just an officer asking questions, it looks like a whole battalion. Stay in the house, Chloe-girl."

  Maman rushed into the room. "And you, Jean-Claude, what has Papan got you doing?"

  "Nothing, Maman. I'm there if he needs me."

  "All right. We'll wait here." Rachelle looked frightened, but she allowed him to leave.

  Chloe took her mother's hands after the door shut and forced her to sit on the divan. "We'll wait together, Maman."

  The physical contact seemed to be enough, and neither of them said anything. When Chloe's stomach made rumbling noises, she remembered she'd failed to eat all day. But still, she couldn't bring herself to consider food, not with the threat of the Nazis hanging over their heads.

  Scarcely an hour later they heard the loud noise of speakers, driven through the streets. The poor French pronunciation and the distortion of the loudspeaker made it difficult to understand the German soldiers. Once they got closer to Chloe's home, it became obvious what they expected. All citizens must leave their homes and gather in the city-square.

  "Maman, we dare not wait for Papan to send for us. The Germans might think Jean-Claude is trying to disobey and shoot him down if he comes here."

  "Of course, Chloe. We'll go now. Cover your face, child, and...try to look small."

  "How can I look small?" She asked with a smile, but Maman had already turned away.

  They walked outside, arm-in-arm, continuing down the street to the large, open town-square. Other villagers had already gathered, but not as many as Chloe expected. The town appeared to be nearly deserted, though she noted the town priest along the fringes of the gathering. She caught her father's eye, but he made no move to join them, preferring to remain anonymously alone, she knew, while he confronted the Nazi leader. Jean-Claude moved slowly toward them until he stood protectively in front.

  The villagers carried on little conversation. By now, all who remained had been told of the unfortunate incident and understood exactly why the Germans had demanded that the entire town come out. After standing almost an hour, it appeared obvious that no one else would come. How would the Nazis respond? Their cold faces, severe, even disdainful, evidenced their rights as the supreme race.

  The SS Commander approached Remy. "Are you not the Prefect? Where are the rest of your citizens? They have not obeyed the call to assemble."

  "Forgive me, Monsieur Capitaine, but the citizens are so frightened they have fled. These…" He held out his arm in a sweeping movement. "…are all that remain."

  "Why are they frightened? Do they know what the Resistance has done, or perhaps, they were all part of this crime?"

  "Please, Monsieur, there is no Resistance. There was no crime." Chloe's father shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps of ignorance, but no harm was intended."

  The SS officer pulled his arm back and swung it across the face of Remy. "I decide when harm has been done to my officers. Since they are dead, harm was indeed done."

  Remy's head jerked backward, but he held his ground. Several people gasped at the harsh treatment, but no one dared move to help him. No one except Jean-Claude, and he would have jumped forward, had Rachelle not firmly gripped his arm.

  "Forgive me, Monsieur Capitaine. It's true your officers have been harmed, but I swear to you that no one intended their death. It was an accident!"

  "Prefect, I have investigated the scene, and there is no way that the vehicle could have jumped into the ravine on its own. Someone helped it. Who is responsible?"

  Chloe's father had blood at the corner of his left eye, and he looked miserable. "I am responsible. I ordered the men to guard the entrances to our town and put up roadblocks for suspicious vehicles. We weren't expecting your visit, especially in the middle of the night, to the Unoccupied Zone."

  "Are you trying to tell me, Prefect, that we had no right to visit your town?" The SS officer stared menacingly at Chloe's father.

  "Mais non, Monsieur Capitaine, only that, had we anticipated your arrival, the accident would never have occurred. You know very well we've been charged with guarding the roads against suspicious activity. Please overlook our zealousness. We mean
t no harm to your men."

  "I feel I've been very patient. Who was responsible for the booby-trapped road?" His pale eyes scanned the crowd, but no one moved.

  Chloe didn't know how she kept her eyes glued straight ahead, but she could tell no one else looked at the guilty men either. The German commander's face turned red, and he reached for the clasp holding his gun to his side.

  At that, the two men chose to walk forward of their own free will. They held their hats in their hands, and kept their heads bowed, saying nothing. But it was obvious they were confessing.

  The officer stood to his full height, glaring at them. "Are you part of the Resistance?"

  Both men shook their heads. Monsieur Rhodes answered with sincerity. "I've never even seen anyone from the Resistance. We're sorry about the death of your men. It wasn't intentional."

  The German didn't seem satisfied. He grew even angrier, which didn't make sense. The men responsible had confessed and apologized. The Germans were the intruders, as her father had calmly pointed out. They had crossed into the Unoccupied Zone, wearing false identification from the French Police. They were clearly in the wrong, and yet the SS officer didn't see that. He flicked his head at one of his soldiers and thirty rifles raised as one. Chloe's father immediately began to plead as the soldiers forced the townspeople to line up against the wall of the town meeting hall.

  "Non, non, Monsieur Capitaine, surely there's no reason to kill all these people. We are innocent of wishing you harm. We have not plotted against you in any way. Please listen to me."

  The SS officer remained deaf to Remy's pleas. A young mother cried. She held a small child by the hand and a baby tight against her chest. Her husband had been lost when war broke out, thus, she had nowhere to go when the other villagers fled in the middle of the night.

  Jean-Claude still towered protectively before Chloe and Rachelle as the soldiers moved them ever closer to the wall. Remy ceased asking for understanding and walked over to join his family. They would all die with honor, not begging for their lives as the Germans seemed to desire.