Theresa shook her head. “No, Monsieur. I did not."
"Then I did right to bring you this." He placed the cardboard box on the ground, and stepped back a pace. "Please open it. It is for you."
Theresa frowned and took a hesitant step forward. Tony, unable to contain his curiosity, peeped cautiously around the corner. The soldier was watching with a smile as Theresa knelt and carefully opened the box. Her face lit up instantly in a smile of wonderment. She reached in and lifted out a small bundle of brown fur. As Jean-Paul watched his eldest child cuddle the little puppy, he was filled with mixed emotions. Who was this soldier? Why should he give a gift to Theresa? There was only one way to find out.
"Why have you done this?
The German turned towards Jean-Paul, and his expression was serious.
“Because, Monsieur Boues, not every German is evil. Some of us agree with you French that the world would be a better place without Herr Hitler. But while we do not like him we are patriotic, just as you are, and when we are called on to fight for our country we do it." He sighed. "I sometimes wish I could run away, or be captured. I would rather spend the rest of the war in a prison camp than fight and kill. But I know that is impossible, and I must do my duty. Doing my duty does not make me a monster, though." He looked sadly at Theresa. "I once had a daughter. She and her mother died in an air raid on Cologne, two years ago. If she had lived she would have been much the same age as your girl." There were tears in his eyes. "I promised to buy her a puppy for her next birthday, but she did not live long enough for me to give it to her. When I saw this puppy yesterday I bought it to give to your daughter, if she had not yet found her own." He turned questioningly towards Jean-Paul. "You will allow her to keep it?"
Jean-Paul had a lump in his throat. He nodded silently, and Theresa rose to her feet beside him, the puppy cradled in her arms.
"Thank you, Monsieur. It was most kind of you to think of me." As she thought about what the German said, she came to a deeper, more mature understanding of the futility of war. That did not mean she would not continue to fight for her country. But it showed her that her hate should be directed more to the tyrannical regime which had started the war, than to the German people themselves. Like the French, there were good and bad in their nation. She would find it hard to hate this particular German soldier, or others like him. She smiled hesitantly. "I will call the puppy Pax. Maybe one day when there is peace between us, you can visit him as a friend, not as an enemy soldier."
The Germans eyes were sad. "I would like to be a friend now, but you are right, I am supposed to be your enemy."
Impulsively Jean-Paul held out his hand. “We may be on different sides in this war, but we will always think kindly of you."
Hesitantly the German took the proffered hand, the first that had been held out to him in peace since his arrival in France.
"Thank you, Monsieur Boues. Now I must get back to Saint Nazaire." He smiled down at Theresa as she held the squirming puppy. "Take good care of him."
Theresa smiled. "I will."
Tony slipped the knife back into its sheath. He watched the German retrieve his bicycle, mount it and set off down the road, much steadier now he did not have to balance the box on his handlebars. Jeanne came out of the cottage to stand with her parents and sister. They silently watched the man cycle away then, unable to contain their excitement, the two children took the puppy into the kitchen. Jean-Paul shook his head wonderingly as he put an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
"We all have something to learn from that man."
Marie nodded, her eyes sad as she thought of the Germans lost family.
"Yes. And we don’t even know his name."
145
"You know you're mad don't you."
Sarah and Jane were sitting in the pub waiting for Bobby and Al to arrive. Jane sipped her drink and looked at her friend thoughtfully.
Sarah grinned. "Whatever makes you say that?"
"The faraway look in your eyes, that's what. I wouldn't win any prizes for betting that you are thinking of Tony Kemshall."
Sarah nodded. "I was just wondering what he’s doing.”
"He hasn't written, has he?"
Sarah shook her head sadly. "No, it's been some time since his last letter."
"How long?"
"About six weeks."
Jane shook her head in exasperation. "I told you he'd let you down again. But you wouldn't listen."
"Perhaps he's too busy to write. After all, the Second Front is bound to happen sometime this summer."
"Oh, I've no doubt he's busy, Sarah. But I'm sure he could find the time to drop you a line or even telephone you, if he really wanted to. I don't know why you persist with him, when you have someone like Bobby around. He's kind and reliable, and I'm sure that deep down you really like him."
"Yes, I really do like him, but he isn't Tony." Sarah smiled sadly. "You're just going to have to leave me to sort this out for myself."
"Just be careful that you don't drive Bobby away in the process."
The door opened to admit Bobby and Al, looking handsome and smart in their G.I. uniforms. Bobby waved at Sarah as he crossed to the bar to get the drinks, while Al moved over to his wife. He kissed her on the forehead and smiled fondly.
"Hi. How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
"I'm fine, darling."
"And what about Junior?"
Jane smiled. She smoothed a hand over her abdomen, which was now showing its burden.
"He's fine too."
Al grinned broadly as he sat down.
"I still can't believe I'm going to be a father!"
Sarah smiled, happy for the love this young couple so obviously shared.
"It will be a lucky child, to have parents like you."
"Gee thanks, Sarah."
Bobby joined them at the table with a tray of drinks. He sat down as Al continued. "I hope this war will be over, and we’ll be back in America before he’s born."
Sarah frowned. "Do you know something we don't?"
Bobby shrugged in response to her question. "Well, yes and no. We’re to be confined to barracks after tonight. We’re getting ready to move out. The Second Front can't be far away now."
Sarah felt a well of emptiness opening inside her, as she thought of these two men facing the landing beaches. Her job had shown her what that could do to a man, particularly after the disaster at Dieppe. She did not want to think of either of them lying wounded or dead upon the sand. Impulsively she covered Bobby’s hand with her own.
"You will be careful, won't you?"
"Of course I will."
Sarah looked across at Jane. Her face had paled. Her eyes were filled with fear as she contemplated pregnancy and the birth of her child without Al beside her. Maybe she would even be left to bring up the child alone. The fears and anxieties she had buried deep over the last few months rose to the surface, and she turned to Al with tears in her eyes.
"I wish you didn't have to go."
"But that's my whole reason for being here, sweetheart. If it hadn't been for this war, I would never have met you."
Sarah's heart filled with compassion for her friend, but there would be plenty of time to comfort her later. Turning to Bobby, she inclined her head towards the door. He nodded.
"I think we'll just take a walk." Bobby rose to his feet. "See you back at camp, Al."
Bobby leant down and hugged Jane gently.
"Take care of yourself and the baby. Make sure you invite me to the christening."
Jane smiled at him through her tears. “Thanks, Bobby. Take care of yourself too."
He nodded. "I will. And don't worry about Al, I'll make sure he comes back home." He turned back to Sarah. "Come on then, we've got a lot to talk about."
Sarah walked with the G.I. out into the cool night air. She shivered, then felt his arm slide comfortingly around her shoulders as he led her through the gateway into the hay field they must cross on their way back to Heronfiel
d.
"Cold?"
She shook her head. "No, just scared." She turned her worried gaze to his. "You know how much I care for you. I hate to think of the danger you'll be facing."
"I'll be fine, Sarah. Don't worry."
"That's what my dad said to my mum, and he never came back."
Bobby reached out and touched her cheek tenderly. "I'm glad you care enough to worry about me." His eyes were serious. "Why don't we get married, or at least engaged, before I go?"
Sarah shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I can't."
The young American smiled wistfully, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes.
"Somehow I knew you’d that. Still, I had to try." He brushed a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. "Say you'll wait for me, Sarah. Don't marry anyone else until I get back."
Though he did not say the name, Sarah knew that he was thinking about Tony. She wished there was some way she could make them both happy, or at least, she wished she could choose between them. How much easier life would have been, if Joe had not died. She would be happily married now, maybe with a child or two of her own, not facing a future where one of the men she cared for walked boldly into a battle from which he might never return, while the other seemed intent on ignoring her and shutting her out of his life. She smiled sadly.
"Just make sure you come back, Bobby. There’ll be time enough after the war to think about the future."
Bobby’s eyes were filled with longing. He enfolded Sarah in his arms. "I love you so much, Sarah, I just don't want to lose you."
He pressed his lips hungrily against hers and Sarah responded, sliding her arms up and around his neck as he kissed her, knowing that it might be the last kiss they ever shared. Bobby gently lowered her to the ground. He kissed her with a passion he had fought to control for months, but which now threatened to overwhelm him.
Bobby’s hands began to roam hungrily over her body. Sarah tensed and made to pull away.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't do it, Bobby."
"But Sarah, I might never come back. Surely you could love me just this once. Please. I need the memory of you to take with me."
Sarah shook her head sadly. "I can't. I have to wait." She thought of Joe, how she had waited for him until it was too late. Would the same happen with Bobby?
"I suppose you're thinking of Tony." Bobby voice held a bitterness which Sarah had never heard before. She reached out to touch his face.
"No. I was thinking of Joe. I never made love with him. We were going to wait until we were married. It didn't feel right then, no matter how much I wanted it, and it doesn't feel right now." She kissed Bobby tenderly. "Making love won't change our feelings one way or another. We have to wait."
Bobby began to stroke her breast through the thin cotton blouse. "Are you sure, Sarah?" His voice was mesmerising. "Just this once to say goodbye?"
'To say goodbye'. She had made love to Tony to say goodbye, the only time she had ever given herself to a man, and she knew that what she felt for Bobby now could never come close to that. Even thinking of making love with Bobby felt as though she were betraying Tony. She pulled away.
“No, Bobby."
Bobby stood up. He looked down at her, anger and longing clouding his eyes.
"It's not because of Joe, is it? It's Tony. He treats you so badly, yet you still care more for him than you do for me. In that case, Sarah, I'll go now. You have to make a decision soon, and stop playing with my feelings as if they don’t count!”
Sarah struggled to her feet as he began to walk away.
"I'm so sorry Bobby, I never intended to do that. I would never want to hurt you! You must believe me!"
Bobby stopped walking, then turned slowly, his sorrowing gaze meeting her eyes, a world of longing in his features. "I know, Sarah. I'm sorry. I should never have lost my temper. Please forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive." Sarah stepped closer, then reached up and kissed him tenderly. "You are the kindest, gentlest man I have ever met. I will pray for you every day while you’re away. Make sure you come back, Bobby. Please."
He reached out and enfolded her in his arms.
"I will. You’ll always draw me back here, Sarah." As he stroked her hair gently and kissed her with a tenderness born of love, Sarah lost herself in the moment. She pushed all thoughts of Tony, of tomorrow, from her mind. Nothing mattered but the here and now.
146
Bobby and Al were part of what was to become known as Force O, destined for Omaha beach. They were held in readiness for embarkation with the rest of the soldiers at Poole, Portland and Weymouth. The whole of the south coast of England was a heaving mass of men and machines, as the Allies made their final preparations for the assault on France. The troops were confined to their camps, and for security reasons were told little of what lay ahead of them; it would not be until they were well on their way that Bobby and Al would know their destination, and the full scale of the invasion force of which they were such a small part.
JUNE 1944
147
It was early evening on June 1st 1944. A cool breeze was beginning to blow after an unseasonably hot day, but it did not reach the interior of the barn which was still stifling hot. Tony and Jean-Paul sat comfortably on the hay, with the radio beside them broadcasting the news from England. Tony listened to the quiet voice of the BBC. He looked over the edge of the loft, and out through the open barn doors to where Theresa was playing with Pax in a pool of sunshine. As the puppy gambolled, it uttered an excited high-pitched bark. The sound of Theresa’s laughter could be heard; it made Tony smile. The war had made her grow up far too quickly. She had experienced many things that a child should not have to go through, but inside there was still a little girl who surfaced from time to time, and Tony was glad to see it.
The war news on the radio was coming to an end. Tony turned his full attention to the voice as the S.O.E. messages relayed by the BBC began. He was tense with nervous excitement. Would the message come? Were the Allied forces ready to cross the Channel at last, and push back the Germans? He glanced across at Jean-Paul, whose expression mirrored his own. He nodded understanding as the messages came over the airwaves.
"The blue sky brings rain. The blue sky brings rain...Snow in September. Snow in September... Les sanglots longs des violins d'automne. Les sanglots longs des violins d'automne."
Tony reached over and switched off the radio. His hands were trembling. He gazed stony- faced at Jean-Paul, then his face broke into an infectious grin.
"That's it, Jean-Paul! The invasion will be this month!" His voice was filled with excitement. He stood up, needing to move to express his joy.
"As long as it’s not another mistake."
Tony laughed out loud. "Don't worry, Jean-Paul, even the British couldn't make that mistake twice! The Allies are coming!"
Suddenly Jean-Paul was laughing too. The two men embraced, sharing their joy at the knowledge that freedom for the French could not now be far away. Jean-Paul began to pack the radio away, his face wreathed in smiles as Tony spoke thoughtfully.
"We have a lot to do to make sure we are ready. The landings may not take place for four weeks, but they could be tomorrow. We should be ready for the earliest possible date. I want the telephones out of action as soon as possible. You and I will hit the exchange tonight." The Frenchman nodded. "We must meet at the cave tomorrow evening. I’ll explain the plans for the attack on the docks once the next code is received. That means we must monitor the radio each evening." His face lost its serious look, and he grinned again. "At last, Jean-Paul. It seems so long since Dunkirk. At times I thought this moment would never come, but the Allies will be here soon. Let's go and make sure that everything is ready for them!"
The radio was hidden away, and the two men descended the ladder from the loft and began their preparations.
Tony went to one of the small caches of arms, hidden in the woods close to the cottage and removed the explosives and detonators he n
eeded for the attack. He was glad he did not need to go to the cave every time he needed arms. The less activity in the area, the less chance of anyone noticing that something unusual was happening there; besides, it was a much shorter walk. He now lay concealed in the ruins of a bomb-damaged building opposite the telephone exchange, which had been under German control since the débacle at Dunkirk. At his side, Jean-Paul checked that his Sten gun was fully loaded and in working order, before turning his serious gaze towards Tony.
"I’m ready."
"Good. You know what to do?" Jean-Paul nodded. "Then let's go." Tony carefully studied the road before making a move. Though it was dark, he could tell that nothing and nobody was moving. The guard on his rounds was now checking the rear of the building, which gave them time to gain entrance before he returned. Rising to his feet, the British agent ran lightly across the road, with Jean-Paul close on his heels. Within seconds they were in the darkened doorway where Tony carefully pushed the door open. There was nobody in sight, and they slipped silently inside. It was late at night. The reception area was unattended, although Tony could hear the murmur of voices coming from a room at the end of the hall. Motioning silently for Jean-Paul to follow him, he cautiously approached the closed door. There was a lull in the talking. He pushed the door open, entering the room with his Sten gun held unwaveringly in the direction of the voices. Two men in uniform were sitting at an exchange criss-crossed with wires, which carried messages to all parts of France and beyond. The two men looked up in surprise at the intrusion and began to rise to their feet.
"Don't move!"
They looked at the muzzles of the two machine guns aimed directly at them, and froze. “Take off your headsets!"
The Germans immediately complied, never taking their eyes from the guns as they placed the headphones on the table.
"Now move over to the wall. Hands on your head." The two soldiers did as they were told. Tony’s eyes flicked momentarily towards Jean-Paul. "Make sure you keep them covered."
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