by Martin Lake
She pursed her lips, wondering at the implications of this. Dorothy clearly believed that the end of the war was in sight, with victory for the Allies. But she wondered if this view was shared by Ernst.
‘What do you think will happen?’ she asked.
Weiser gave a swift laugh, a bark. ‘If I knew that I’d be a Field-Marshal.
He pointed to the map again. ‘Many of the High Command thought any invasion would be at Calais. Normandy is too long a sea-crossing to keep supplied and is too far from Germany. I wonder if the Allies may have made a strategic blunder.’
He used a pair of compasses to measure the distance from the landing site to the German border, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘It will lead to untold bloodshed in France, I’m afraid. Of soldiers and French citizens.’ He paused. ‘Maybe even British and American citizens.’
‘But you said that Germany could no longer bomb Britain.’
‘Not with planes. But if these wonder weapons are more than figments in the mind of Adolf Hitler then the war may turn in our favour once again.’
She clenched her hands and placed them in her lap. If that were the case then David would continue to be in peril. And so would Celeste and her. There would be no end to fear. Panic seized her. She might never see Alain again.
Only this morning the world had seemed much more hopeful. Now all of this optimism felt like rubble and dust.
‘I don’t know what it will mean for us, either,’ Weiser said. His voice sounded strange to her ears. Cold, hollow, with not a trace of warmth.
She shook her head, uncertain if she could control her voice.
‘General Blaskowitz has been appointed head of all German forces south of the Loire,’ he continued. ‘But he’s a very accomplished commander and if things go ill for us in Normandy he may be sent there. And I would probably go with him.’
Her heart began to race. A cold sweat sprang to her forehead. Ernst was her only sure protection against the Gestapo. The only chance for David to survive.
And she suddenly realised that she had fallen a little bit in love with him. It was not like her love for Alain which was absolute and unbreakable. It was more like the flame of a candle, insubstantial, wavering but still able to hurt.
Ernst forced a smile on his face and took her hand. ‘It’s ironic isn’t it. We both want this wretched war to end but the ending of it may tear us apart. Part of me, Viviane, hopes the war will go on forever.’
He gazed once more at the map of France and his fingers caressed the south coast. ‘Perhaps we should pray that the Allies invade here as well. And then I won’t be sent to Normandy. I’ll be able to stay here and fight.’
‘Fight and die,’ she cried. Her face was stark with terror.
‘I’m too wily an old soldier to be killed,’ he said. ‘And I have something precious worth living for.’
He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently and then with mounting fervour.
OPERATION DRAGOON
Grasse, Mid-August 1944
Viviane now heard news of the war every day, either from Dorothy’s radio reports from London or from what Weiser told her. It seemed that the initial high hopes of the Allies in Normandy were waning because of the tenacious fighting of the German troops there.
But the Allies poured men and materials into the battle and gained the upper hand. By the beginning of August, they had managed to conquer much of Normandy and Brittany.
Viviane remained anxious that Blaskowitz would be summoned north but Weiser grew increasingly confident that he would be kept in the south.
‘It’s good news,’ she told Dorothy. ‘It means we’re safe from the Gestapo.’
But it was not all good news, by any means. Dorothy had decided not to tell her what Marie heard every day in her visits to the town. Viviane’s relationship with Weiser was now common knowledge. Odette and her friends spread the news with relish and each retelling added more details and more embellishments.
She comforted herself that Viviane had a strong personality and with the end of the war it would all start to be forgotten.
She hoped that Alain would forgive her.
She sighed wearily. This war would end one day but the repercussions might go on for years.
She went into the sitting room and opened her last bottle of Bourbon.
When this bloody war’s over, she thought, I’m going to pack up the villa and take Marie with me to California.
Two weeks later, the world turned upside down. Thousands of Allied bombers filled the sky to the south, raining terror upon the coastal towns. Viviane ran to the top of the house. The whole coast appeared to be on fire. She ran back down to join the others.
Dorothy stood in the hallway, her face glowing with joy. Marie stood behind her, shaking with fear. Pierre held a thick club in his hand and the look on his face showed that he intended to use it if necessary. The children looked alarmed and Viviane pulled them close to her.
Nearer to hand, they heard explosions along the roads snaking north from the coast. Telegraph and telephone wires dipped and swayed and fell to the earth.
‘That’s the Resistance at work,’ Pierre said with grim satisfaction.
More bombers crawled across the sky.
Mundt came racing into the house, his face tight with excitement.
‘The car is here, Colonel,’ he called.
Weiser limped out of his room, clutching a document case. He paused on the threshold when he saw Viviane. He hurried across to her, threw his arms around her and kissed her passionately.
‘The Allies have landed on the coast. We’re going to try to push them back.’
She held on to his hand as he pulled away. This is the day she had dreaded. ‘Take care, Ernst,’ she said, trying to hold back the tears. ‘Keep safe.’
He winked at her reassuringly and made for the door.
It was only then that she noticed a sergeant standing outside with two young soldiers on either side.
‘I’m Sergeant Ferber,’ he said. ‘Colonel Weiser has commanded me to stay here with a small platoon until he returns. I don’t suppose he’ll be away for long.’
Viviane thanked him profusely.
Dorothy spent much of the day in the shack with Pierre listening to the radio, trying to find out what was happening. But events were moving too quickly and chaos reigned everywhere so she gleaned little from that source.
Later that night they heard gunfire from the town, not the haphazard noise of fighting but half a dozen shots one after the other.
‘Are they fighting in the town?’ Dorothy said in alarm.
‘More likely executions,’ Pierre answered. ‘Either the Milice settling scores or the Resistance dealing with them.’
That night they gazed towards the Mediterranean and could see a red glow above the coast. They listened to the sound of gunfire on the breeze.
They spent the next day wondering what was happening. Sergeant Ferber and his two soldiers grew increasingly edgy.
‘It’s the Resistance, Madame,’ he explained to Dorothy. ‘The thought of them scares my lads half to death. Poor boys. They should be in school, not waiting to fight for their lives.’
The next morning they heard a car skidding up the driveway, sending gravel high in the air. Weiser and Mundt leapt out and hammered on the door.
Weiser took Viviane’s hand. ‘We’ve been ordered to retreat,’ he said. ‘The Allies have beaten us back and our headquarters have been surrounded.’
Viviane could not find her voice for a moment. At last she whispered: ‘Where will you go?’
‘West. To cover Marseilles and the valley of the Rhone.’ He fell silent. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to take Sergeant Ferber and his men with me.’
‘But the Gestapo?’ She began to tremble. The thought of them coming for her was too much to bear.
‘You won’t have any need to fear them,’ Weiser said. ‘I promise.’
He kissed her again, bowed to Do
rothy and climbed into the car beside Mundt. As they made for the road he turned once more and raised his hand in farewell.
But the car did not immediately head west. The driver careered at break-neck speed towards the town and screeched to a halt outside the police headquarters.
‘Keep the engine running,’ Weiser told the driver. Mundt and he headed towards the building.
They found Schorn in his office, together with his assistant, Buchner. They were frantically stuffing documents in a suitcase.
Schorn stared at Weiser in surprise and then smiled. ‘You’ve come to help us evacuate,’ he said. ‘Good. We’re almost ready to leave.’
‘You’re absolutely right,’ Weiser said. He cocked his pistol and shot Schorn through the skull. Mundt dispatched Buchner a moment later.
‘We’ll take the case with us,’ Weiser said. ‘It may contain evidence which could incriminate our friends.’
They got into the car and headed west.
Later that afternoon there came a knock on the door of the villa. Viviane and Dorothy looked at each other in alarm. Marie got up to answer the door but Dorothy stopped her.
‘No, honey, I’ll get it.’ She did not need to say who she feared it might be.
But it was not the Gestapo. It was Roland Boyer.
‘You’ve heard the news?’ he said.
Dorothy nodded. ‘The Allies have landed.’
‘They’ve taken several towns and are beginning to move inland. The Germans are putting up a strong resistance but I gather they’re being overwhelmed.’
‘And the Gestapo?’ Viviane said.
‘The little rats have all fled,’ he said. ‘But I found Schorn and his assistant myself. They’d both been shot, clean through the head.’
‘Was it the Resistance?’ Dorothy asked.
‘Not according to eye-witnesses,’ he answered. He glanced at Viviane but refused to say more.
‘I can’t stay,’ he said. ‘But I advise you most firmly not to leave the house. There may still be a few stray Germans hiding out and the Resistance are hunting them down.’
Then his face screwed up with anger. ‘And already the criminal elements have crept out of the dark. There’s been instances of looting and assaults.’
He handed Dorothy a pistol. ‘This should scare off any crook fancying his hand at a spot of burglary.’ He bowed to them and hurried away.
Dorothy weighed the pistol in her hand. ‘As if we’d not had enough of evil deeds,’ she murmured.
LIBERATION
Grasse, August 1944
American troops arrived in Grasse two days later. Their commanding officer, a grizzled veteran whose grand-father had fought at Gettysburg, swiftly secured the town, eradicating small pockets of Germans who had got left behind in the headlong German retreat and had been hiding in the surrounding woods.
Then his column moved on, pursuing the enemy to the west. He left behind a platoon of men led by two young officers who could speak a little French. Captain Tom Dunkley had never fired a shot in anger until he landed on the beach a few days before. Lieutenant Niall Johnson was fresh out of school. The first time he had journeyed outside of Kansas was when he was sent to his enlistment camp.
Despite his youth, Dunkley was no fool, and the first person he called on was the mayor. He wore a troubled look on his face when he left the office.
‘I don’t like it,’ he said to the lieutenant. ‘The old man said that there would be trouble ahead but seemed unwilling to do anything about it.’
‘What sort of trouble?’ Johnson asked.
‘He refused to say. Let’s go find a sheriff.’
Sergeant Henri Lassals looked up from his paper-work when the two Americans walked in. He ran out from behind the desk and shook their hands vigorously.
‘We’ve come because your mayor said there might be trouble ahead,’ Dunkley said. ‘But he didn’t feel inclined to tell me what kind of trouble.’
Lassals frowned. ‘There’s been a bit of house-breaking and assaults on the street. I guess that’s what he means.’
‘Can you tell me more? You’re in charge here.’
‘No, I’m only the sergeant. Capitaine Boyer is normally in command but the mayor asked him to go to Nice to liaise with headquarters there.’
He leaned closer to them and spoke in a low voice. ‘The mayor was a good man until the war started. But he lost both his sons in battle and then the Germans imprisoned him. They treated him badly, I’m afraid, and he’s a shell of a man.’
Johnson shook his head sympathetically.
‘When will your boss come back?’ Dunkley asked. He had a sudden sinking feeling in his heart.
‘Who knows?’
‘Then you’re in charge here, I guess.’
Lassals frowned. ‘Yes, I suppose I am. Of me and my three men.’
‘Is that all? For the whole town?’
‘Most of the young ones went to join the Resistance when the Germans came. There’s only us old ones left.’
Dunkley whistled in surprise and concern.
‘Well we’ll do what we can to help. We’re going to billet in the German barracks. But I’ll leave a couple of men here with you.’
The following morning there came the sound of hammering on the door of Villa Laurel. Marie opened it to three armed men. They were led by a young man who had worked in the library. He was well-dressed and extremely polite. The others were scruffier and dangerous looking.
The young man took a deep breath. ‘I need to see the owner of the house, Mademoiselle. And all the people living here.’
He pushed past her before she could reply and led the way into the hall.
‘Madame Pine,’ Marie called. ‘Some men have come to see us.’ Her voice trembled with anxiety. She recalled what Roland Boyer had said about looters.
Dorothy appeared in the hallway, fiddling with something in her pocket. She too recalled what Boyer had told them. She doubted she would be able to shoot the pistol but she might be able to use it as a threat.
Viviane appeared behind her and Pierre, with his cudgel visible in his hand.
‘There’s no need for that, old man,’ one of the men said.
Pierre did not answer but tapped the cudgel against his palm.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Dorothy asked.
‘Is it true that you have entertained Germans here?’ the librarian asked.
‘Who are you to question me?’ Dorothy said.
‘That doesn’t matter, Madame. Answer the question, please.’
Dorothy took a deep breath.
‘If you must know, we did not entertain the Germans. Their colonel was injured in a road accident and took over the villa in order to recuperate somewhere quiet.’
‘For six months?’ the man said. ‘That’s a very long recuperation if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘Well go look for him and ask him why he stayed so long.’
‘We don’t have to,’ the most dangerous looking man said, with a sneer. ‘We know you were all whoring yourselves with the Bosch.’
That’s enough Dubois,’ the librarian said.
‘You a wife and mother,’ Dubois continued, pointing at Viviane. ‘And you, Mademoiselle, a young girl who should have been content with a nice French boy-friend instead of fucking every German in sight.’ He wiped some spittle from his lips. ‘All of you are traitors, all of you disgust right-thinking people.’
He glared at Dorothy. ‘And you, bitch, disgust me most of all. You’re old enough to be a grand-mother yet you gave your body to the enemy.’
‘No she didn’t,’ cried Marie, stepping between them. ‘Madame Pine is my…my girlfriend. We are lovers.’
Viviane was amazed at her volunteering this information. Dorothy tried to quieten her. Pierre did not seem surprised in the slightest.
The librarian blushed. Dubois eyed Marie and Dorothy up and down. At first, he looked astonished but this was immediately followed by a lascivious regard.
‘There’s no need,’ the third man said. ‘My wife knows the cook’s mother. It’s common knowledge that the American and her maid are lovers.’
‘So much for trying to keep it secret,’ Dorothy said. ‘I’m going to cut Lucile’s wages when she comes back to work.’
She patted Marie on the arm and pulled her closer.
‘So, gentlemen, we’re just a pack of lesbians, not interested in the Krauts at all. So, if you’re done, I’ll wish you au revoir.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ the librarian said. ‘We have good evidence that Madame Renaud was the lover of the German Colonel.’
‘Good evidence?’ cried Viviane. ‘What evidence?’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you. But it is of the highest probity. Madame Pine, it appears that you and your maid are innocent of sleeping with the Germans. But Viviane Renaud must come with us.’
They dragged Viviane out to a waiting car. Dorothy waited until they had disappeared then turned to Pierre.
‘Get the car,’ she said. ‘We’re following those bastards. Marie, stay here with the children.’
‘I don’t want to leave you,’ she wailed.
‘You must.’
‘I don’t agree,’ Pierre said. ‘It will be dangerous for the little ones to stay here with only Marie to guard them. We’d all be better keeping together.’
‘We haven’t got time to argue,’ Dorothy said. ‘Come on then, Marie. And Pierre, bring your shot-gun.’
ROUGH JUSTICE?
Grasse, August 1944
Viviane was taken directly to the town.
‘You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you,’ Dubois said. ‘I can see why the Nazi took a fancy to you.’
‘Leave her alone,’ the librarian said.
Dubois chuckled and fell silent. But all the way into town he kept his eyes glued on Viviane, scrutinising her from her head to her waist.
The car came to a halt behind the church. The place where Viviane and Sylvie used to go to escape the worst heat of the summer. The librarian got out and opened the door for Viviane to leave. She felt Dubois stroke the back of her leg as she did so. She just managed to stop from crying out in disgust.
