"This way, Jean-Paul! Hurry!"
The two men threw themselves into the narrow opening as the sound of the train reached a mighty roar. A blast of hot wind pressed them back against the wall. They closed their eyes and mouths against the stinging smoke and soot which engulfed them. The huge bulk of the train rushed by like a denizen of hell, sparks flying, steam burning. It seemed endless, rolling past the two men, who struggled to keep as much distance as possible between themselves and the terrible monster. At last it passed. Tony cautiously removed his hands from his ears, still ringing after being assaulted by such noise. He wiped some of the soot and smoke from his eyes, and opened them to see Jean-Paul grinning at him, his teeth dazzling white and eyes sparkling in the blackness of his face.
"We didn’t need camouflage tonight, the train has done it for us!"
Tony grinned too. "Yes, but it could have done much more." He noticed Jean-Paul’s puzzled expression and continued. "If we hadn’t been using plastic explosives, the vibrations could have set the charges off."
"You mean...?"
"I mean we would now be buried under half the tunnel."
Jean-Paul felt a shiver run down his spine. "I don’t know about you, but I want to be out of here as soon as possible."
"Let's go, then."
The two men retraced their steps along the tunnel. They planted the third pair of charges just inside the bend, and the final set a mere twenty yards from the tunnel entrance. Greatly relieved that no other train had passed through, they made their way out into the fresh night air where they drew in deep breaths which washed the smoke and dust from their lungs.
"Let's go."
Jean-Paul led the way and, ten minutes later, they passed the siding with its trainload of tanks.
"Can we destroy them, Albert?"
"Possibly, but I have a better idea."
As the two made their way home, Tony described the plan to his French companion. Jean-Paul was reluctant at first, but finally he agreed that it would be the best solution to two of their problems. All he was worried about now was how he was going to explain it all to Marie.
143
Jeanne was already in bed when Theresa came into the kitchen. Jean-Paul and Marie were seated at the table talking quietly. Tony stood staring pensively into the fire. Being with a couple like the Boues, who were still obviously very close after many years of marriage, made him lonely for Sarah. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, to share his thoughts and feelings with her. He missed her terribly, and was unhappy that he was not even able to bring the small gold heron she gave him. Just holding that would have helped him to feel closer to her.
"I hear the railway tunnel was blown up last night."
Theresa’s words brought him back to the present.
"Was it?"
Theresa threw him an exasperated look. "Yes. And there have also been attacks on bridges in the last few weeks. It wouldn’t all have something to do with you, would it, Albert?"
Tony smiled. "What if it did?"
"You said you would find me something to do to help." Theresa’s eyes were pleading. "I’ve tried to be patient and not keep asking, but you still haven’t said anything. I wondered if you’d forgotten."
Tony looked at Jean-Paul, who had reached out to take Marie’s hand in his. Marie looked as though she did not want to hear what would be said next, yet found it impossible to leave the room. Tony turned back to Theresa and smiled.
"No, I haven't forgotten, and you have been very patient. It was just that nothing suitable seemed to come up. Would you have been able to plant explosives to blow up the bridges or the tunnel?"
“No, but you could teach me like you taught Papa,” she answered stubbornly.
Tony nodded. "Yes I could, but I don't think your mother would have liked that."
"But Mamma agreed that I could help."
"If the right job came up." Jean-Paul smiled tenderly at his daughter. "It’s only because we love you that we don’t want you getting into danger."
"But I want to help!" Theresa was exasperated. "The Allies are bound to come soon and I want to do my part."
"What damage do you think twenty Panzers could do to the Allied landing forces?"
Theresa frowned, puzzled by the apparent change of subject.
"A great deal, I should think. It would be better if they were kept out of any battle."
"I agree." Tony smiled. "We saw about that many tanks entrained in a siding last night. If they had been on the other side of the tunnel, they would have been of little use to the Germans because they would have been trapped. But as it is there’s open track ahead of them all the way to the Channel coast. We could blow them up, but that would give the Germans time to bring up replacements. What we really need to do is disable them, so that the enemy would be unaware of it until they tried to move them, and by then it would be too late." He smiled at the teenager. "Would you like to be responsible for disabling them?"
Theresa’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
"What? Me?"
Tony nodded, and with a cry of delight she threw herself into his arms.
"Thank you, Albert! You don’t know how much this means to me!"
"I think I do!" laughed Tony, giving her a quick hug.
Suddenly Theresa frowned, and turned towards her parents.
"What do you think, Papa? Mamma?"
Jean-Paul looked at Marie then back at his daughter. He spoke for them both.
"We realise that you want to help, and that you’re old enough to make your own decisions. There’s obviously danger involved and we are worried about you, but Albert thinks you’ll be relatively safe. So, if you want to do it, we won’t try to stop you."
Theresa nodded solemnly. Tony wondered again at her surprising maturity.
"Thank you, Papa, and you Mamma.” She crossed to the table and put her arms around her mother’s neck. "I know how difficult it is for you. I promise not to let you down."
Marie had tears in her eyes as she hugged her daughter.
"Just keep yourself safe, dear, that’s all I ask."
Theresa turned back to Tony with a look of eager anticipation.
"Right then, Albert. What do you want me to do?"
"Sit down and I'll explain."
Tony and Theresa joined Jean-Paul and Marie around the table. The young girl leant forward to listen to the Englishman as he began his careful explanation.
"When I parachuted in last month, some supplies were dropped as well. Among them were a number of cans of abrasive grease."
"What is that?"
"It looks like heavy motor oil, but in fact it has finely ground carborundum in it. If we replace lubricating oil with this, it will cause the moving parts to seize up. What I want you to do is drain the oil from the axle boxes of the trucks, and replace it with the abrasive grease. The Germans won't know it’s been done until they try to move the train. When they do, the axles will seize up and the train will be stuck. Although the tanks won't be damaged, they will be unable to reach any battlefield. As an added bonus, they will block the railway so nothing else can get through."
"That’s a devious plan. I like it."
Tony laughed at Theresa’s eagerness. "Right. I'll get everything you need from our stores. You can begin your work tomorrow night."
Theresa cycled along the road with the two cans hidden in the basket on her bicycle. Tony had given her one empty can to drain the oil into, so she would leave no trace of her work behind her, and another full of the abrasive grease to replace it. The Englishman told her there was only enough for two or three carriages in the can. She would have to make anything up to ten trips to complete the job. Ideally she should disable all of the carriages, but if that was not possible, she was to make sure that those at either end were sabotaged. If they were unable to move, those in the middle would be stuck too.
As Theresa approached the railway she saw a German guard outside the signal box, and she slowed as he stepped out into the road i
n front of her. With a wave of his hand, he indicated that she should stop and show him her papers. He took them and perused them carefully.
"Theresa Boues?”
She nodded.
“It is only one hour to curfew, little girl. Where are you going?"
Theresa was annoyed at being called a little girl, but she did not show it. The soldier was probably as old as her father, so it was only natural of him to think of teenagers as 'little girls'. He was smiling at her and looked friendly, but Theresa was not taken in by his demeanour.
"I’ve lost my puppy and I’m looking for him."
The soldier frowned.
"You think he is over here?"
“Yes." Theresa nodded. "I got him from a lady near here. He might be trying to find his way back to his mother.”
The German soldier nodded. "It is possible. You had better hurry if you are to get home before curfew. Do not go down to the railway lines though. We have patrols down there, and you will get into a lot of trouble if you go where you are not allowed." A fleeting smile lit his face. "I would help you look if I could, but I cannot leave my post. Good luck."
He waved at Theresa as she cycled on, trying to control her shaking hands. When the guard had stopped her, she had been afraid he might search her bicycle and find the cans. She had no illusions as to what would have happened if he found out what her real mission was. She felt a deeper appreciation of her mother’s fears as she continued on her way. But not once did she think of turning back, even with the knowledge of German patrols on the lines. She had a job to do, and she intended to do it well. As she approached her destination, she thought of Charles and how hard he had worked for the Resistance. He was her hero, her ideal. What she did was as much for him as for France.
As Theresa approached the siding, she looked carefully around. No one was in sight. She quickly hid her bicycle in the bushes, took the cans from the basket and made her way down the steep slope to the railway tracks. She stared in awe as she approached the train in the siding. The tanks looked huge and threatening. It chilled her to the core to think of the death and destruction they could wreak on France’s liberators. The huge metal monstrosities gave her a fuller appreciation of the trust Tony had placed in her, and she was determined not to let him down.
Moving swiftly forward, she slipped between the wheels of the first carriage and crouched down beside the axle box. It took her a few moments to free the drainage hole, but the oil was soon flowing freely into her can. The thick black substance poured like treacle in a seemingly endless stream. Finally it began to slow, then stopped as Theresa closed the drainage hole. Unscrewing the cap, she began to pour the abrasive grease. It took half the can to fill the box, then she screwed the cap back on. Her hands were shaking as she quickly made her way to the second truck and set to work. What if a patrol should pass? What if she spilt some of the oil on her clothes, would the German sentry notice? Within fifteen minutes, which seemed like fifteen hours to the young French girl, the job was complete. A nervous Theresa made her way back up the bank, to the bushes where her bicycle was hidden. The road was still deserted. With a relieved sigh, she wheeled out the machine and began cycling back towards her home.
She approached the guard at the signal box with trepidation, her palms sweaty with a fear she dare not show in her face. To her immense relief, he was smiling.
"Did you find your puppy?"
“No, Monsieur."
His smile faded a little. "Oh, I am sorry to hear it. I will bring it over to your home if I find it. You live on the de Thierry estate, do you not?"
Theresa swallowed hard then nodded.
“Yes , monsieur.”
"Well, good luck then. Now be on your way, or you will not be back before curfew."
Theresa nodded in relief as she began to pedal away. "Thank you. Goodbye, Monsieur."
“Goodbye, little girl."
As Theresa cycled home, she was glad it had been such an old and friendly guard on duty. She surely would not have got away with her deception so easily if it had been a younger, more enthusiastic soldier. As she cycled, she decided to use a different route to the siding in future. She could not afford the danger of coming into contact with any more guards while sabotaging the train.
144
The days passed swiftly. In the early evenings, Theresa set out with her cans to work on the train. She took the long route now. It avoided all contact with the Germans, so was well worth it. Only once was she surprised by a patrol making its way along the siding where she was working. Heart in her mouth, she slipped into a small cavity between the tracks of the megalithic tank on the truck above her. The space was filled with the deepest of shadows. The two guards passed, talking quietly between themselves. They were unaware of the oil cans hidden in the long grass, and the young girl holding her breath not five yards from them. Theresa was not disturbed again, and it was not long before she had completed her assignment.
She was immensely proud of her accomplishment. So were her parents and Tony, who could see a subtle change in her attitude now she was doing something to help. While Theresa disabled the train, Tony and Jean-Paul, together with the rest of the group, continued their nightly sabotage work. Now the main targets had been destroyed, they were concentrating on the bridges on the minor roads. Any transports forced to make detours would have additional problems when they tried to arrange alternative routes. Although the group were striking frequently, there was no pattern to their movements. The Germans did not know what to do, apart from increase patrols and hope to stumble on the Resistance group by chance. But they could not patrol all the minor roads, nor the railway junctions, where the group frequently blew up the points to disrupt train transports even further. The Germans eventually settled to the usual solution, harassment of the population, but this was not as severe as it was earlier in the war. They were preparing for the Second Front, which they expected to open up soon, and this thankfully gave them less time to practice their brutality on the population of occupied France. Steinhauser also needed his limited supply of trains for military transportation up to the Channel coast, so the numbers of those deported to labour camps dropped rapidly. Things were not easy for the French, but the re-percussions were certainly not as severe as Tony had feared.
Things appeared to be going well for Tony, until the day the German came to the cottage.
It was Jeanne who first saw the man approaching the cottage, wobbling along on a bicycle. She rushed into the kitchen where, luckily, the whole family were gathering for dinner.
"A German is coming!"
Tony leapt to his feet, fearful that someone had given him away, putting the whole Boues family in danger. His mind was crystal clear as he barked out instructions in an effort to protect the people who were like family to him.
"Marie! Clear my place from the table! The rest of you, act naturally. I'll slip out of a window at the back, and hide in the woods until it’s safe!" He rushed from the kitchen to a room shielded from the approaching soldier by the bulk of the barn. Clambering through the opening, he ran close to the wall, crouched low so that he would not be seen, until he reached the corner. Peering carefully round it he saw the German. He frowned in confusion. It was a lone man in his early forties, riding a bicycle. His rifle was slung across his back and he pedalled slowly, balancing a cardboard box on the handlebars. It did not look as though he were coming to arrest an English spy. But if he did not know about Tony, what was he doing here? The soldier stopped the bicycle and got off. Lifting his precarious burden he placed it gently on the ground. He propped his transport against the pigsty wall and took a good look around the small yard. Then he picked up the box and walked hesitantly towards the cottage door. Tony felt that he was relatively safe where he was, and decided not to move. That might draw attention to himself. Besides, he wanted to hear what the German had to say.
Inside the cottage Marie had cleared away all traces of Tony’s presence. She was smoothing her apron when a hesitant k
nock came at the door. The two adults looked at each other in some confusion. It did not sound much like the heavy-handed Germans they were expecting. Jean-Paul licked his lips nervously, and crossed the kitchen to open the door. He frowned at the sight of the German who stood nervously outside.
"Yes?"
"You have a teenage daughter called Theresa?" His French was remarkably good. Jean-Paul had no excuse to pretend that he did not understand. He squared his shoulders defensively.
"Yes, I do."
"I checked her papers two weeks ago, by the railway."
Jean-Paul paled visibly. At the corner of the house, Tony felt nauseous. Had they discovered the abrasive grease in the axle-boxes of the train trucks, and linked that with Theresa’s presence in the area? He carefully lifted his trouser leg and removed his knife from the sheath strapped to his lower leg. Leaning back against the wall he listened carefully, ready to leap out if necessary, determined to keep his promise to Marie and Jean-Paul. He would allow no harm to come to their family because of his activities.
"May I see your daughter?"
The German’s request was polite, but Jean-Paul knew that he had no option. He turned back to the interior of the cottage.
"Theresa. Will you come here, please.?”
Theresa appeared at the door with Marie’s arm protectively around her shoulder. Jeanne stood a little back from them, wide-eyed in fear. When Theresa saw the German with the box in his arms, she recognised him instantly. Her palms were sweaty with fear.
"Bonjour Madame, Mademoiselle." The soldier smiled, and the family did not know what to think. "I have the right house at last. This is the third place I have visited in search of your daughter, Madame Boues."
"What do you want with her?" Jean-Paul’s tone was abrupt, but the soldier appeared not to notice. He was used to getting such a response from the French.
"She was searching for a puppy when I met her." He turned to Theresa. "Did you find it?"
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