by Ian Lindsey
“Some shot down pilots we are.” Dylan ruminated after a few minutes. “I don’t even have a picture of Clara. I don’t think there are even any pictures of the two of us together in existence. We never went anywhere with a photographer for the few dinners we had together.”
“You can fix that when we get back. I don’t have any of Anne either.” Payton answered showing a surety in their survival that neither necessarily felt. With the full day spread out in front of them, the twins reverted to wiling away the hours as they used to when they were working on the farm. They talked of baseball, debating teams and players while also reminiscing about some of their own exploits. They talked of their parents, hoping that they were not worried about them. And, they talked of the girls. They knew Clara and Anne would be worried about them, but hoped that they could get back to England before they were truly missed.
***
Clara screwed up all here courage, walked to the telephone, and dialed the number for the squadron base at Biggin Hill after dinner.
“Squadron Leader Phillips, please.” She said ever so sweetly to the enlisted man that answered the phone. He complied readily, without even inquiring about whom might need the Squadron Leader at the phone.
“Phillips.” The Squadron Leader intoned flatly as he picked up the receiver a few moments later.
“Squadron Leader Phillips, this is Nurse Clara O’Ryan. One of your men we patched up here yesterday afternoon, a Pilot Officer Quarles, said you were the man I needed to talk with because two of your men I’m interested in went down over the Channel. I need to know what has happened to the Anders twins.” She was barely able to get it out without breaking out of the professional nurse’s tone.
“I know who you are lass. I’m sorry about your boy. I saw one get shot up, but I saw the parachute open. The other plane crashed on the sand. I didn’t see anything after that, but I know they were both alive the last time I saw them. That should give you some hope.”
“Thank you.” Clara blurted and hung up before she crumbled to the floor. Anne hadn’t even managed enough courage to leave the room, but she rushed out when she heard the muffled thud of Clara slumping against the wall.
“What?” Clara asked with the fear evident in her voice.
“France, they’ve crashed.” Croaked Clara
“Oh, no.” Anne almost sighed as she slumped next to her friend. Neither said anything else until they slowly rose, overwhelmed and numb, hugged each other and slowly pulled themselves in to bed for the night.
***
As night fell the twins slowly crept out of their hideout under the pier and made their way up the seawall without incident. They swayed a little bit like drunks, which they’d decided much earlier in the day for their disguise, as they walked brazenly down the pier doing their best to pick out any possible escape vessels. As discreetly as they could manage they scanned each small fishing vessel and tramp in the harbor.
“I don’t see anything close enough to shore that we can swim to that will be big enough to make it across the channel but not so big that we can’t handle it.” Dylan surmised. “Do you see any dinghy’s that could get us to some of the fishing trawlers on the other side of the harbor?”
“No, I think we’ll have to come up with a different plan, or wait until any of the boats turn over and come closer.” Payton said dejectedly. “Let’s head back under the pier and regroup.”
Dylan swayed as convincingly as possible before he turned and headed back towards the shore. Payton followed, stumbled a little on purpose, and leaned against the railing for a moment as his brother swerved forward a few steps. As they prepared to edge over the wall Dylan scanned down the path one more time. “Halt!” commanded a stern German voice. Trailing Dylan by a step and half shielded from the challenger, Payton simply drew his gun and shot the German soldier without mercy twice in the heart.
“Run!” Dylan commanded immediately. He knew his brother had made the right decision, they had no way of passing any kind of a challenge from even the lowliest soldier, but now the only thing they could do was get out of Le Havre before the SS, or worse the Gestapo, started searching for the two men who had shot one of their own.
“Wait!” Payton slowed after the first three running steps he’d taken. He knew just as well as his brother that the sound of gunfire would soon bring a swarm of attention. However, shooting the German soldier also meant he had to slow down and think. He ran back and pulled off the dead man all of his papers and, seeing he was an officer, his sidearm before reconsidering. “Run toward the admiralty building, and let’s ditch the weapons for now. If we hide them, and then hide ourselves in plane site where most of the Nazi’s are we can try and slip out of town early in the morning when the shot has worn off the investigation some.” Payton finally explained to his brother. They found an alcove of large stone three blocks south that had been attached to a building housing some kind of shops before the Nazi’s artillery had leveled everything except the entry way. The twins found a loose stone near the base, dug a small hole underneath, and hid their small stash of food and weapons as well as the papers of the dead man. With that done, they tried to walk towards the admiralty building as drunkenly as possible before acting as if they were collapsing in to a doorway and passing out. The doorway, conveniently, allowed a near perfect view of the admiralty building and the entire surrounding square. The twins didn’t have to decide who would take first watch because on this night two sets of alert eyes would stay open.
***
The frenzied activity surrounding the shot German died down around midnight. The last lights in the Admiralty building switched off around 1am as the last hard working bureaucrat in the Werhmacht decided to seek at least a few hours of sleep. Only one or two patrols wandered the streets of the slumbering city. Around 4:30 am, the twins silently nodded to each other and accented to move out of the city after gathering their provisions and weapons from the lackluster hiding spot. They crept slowly along the boulevards of the silent French town, avoiding the halos cast by the few street lights and listening for any sign of human movement ahead of them. Once they reached the outskirts of the town, wary of roadblocks after the shooting, the twins slowed their pace even more. Dylan crept forward slowly with Payton ten steps behind lurking in the shadows and ready to pounce should they run in to any trouble. The Germans confidence in their iron grip on the local population only served to aid the twins. No challenges or roadblocks appeared as they escaped the city unchallenged. Slipping out of town gave them a moments relief, but then they set their course south and disappeared in to the hedgerows and lanes as best they could for the next part of their unknown journey.
Chapter 27
July 16th, 1940
Clara awoke early with a pit in her stomach. She’d slept fitfully, tormented by dreams of her missing beloved, her mysteriously absent brother, and the crater that used to be their dormitory home at the hospital. After the destruction of the dormitory the nursing staff understandably faced a critical shortage of trained women to run the hospital. Simone even volunteered to help, so both Anne and Clara tutored her as best they could. She learned quickly in the dozen days since the decimation of the nursing staff. Clara and Anne tried to ignore the thought of how many bright young women just trying to help had been killed. And, that they’d almost been killed themselves.
After a few moments of sleep filled reflection Clara roused herself from bed and mumbled quietly to Anne.
“I’m awake.” She replied. “I was trying to hold it all together silently so you could sleep a little longer.” Anne offered quietly.
“We must hold it together a little longer. The hospital needs all three of us today.” Clara answered a little sternly, if only to mask her own pain. “I’ll get Simone and we can start on our way.” Clara said as she headed out the room. Just then, the phone rang. It was a bit early for a call, but Simone’s butler answered quickly.
“I’ll find her immediately” Clara heard him say. “Ah, sp
lendid, Miss O’Ryan, there is a call for you.” He said as she rounded the corner in to the hall with the telephone.
“Thank you” she replied as she picked up the handset. “This is Miss O’Ryan.” She stated somewhat flatly with just a hint of a question at such an early call.
“Miss O’Ryan, this is Pilot Officer Quarrels. I’m sorry to bother you so early, but I’ve just returned from a dawn patrol.” The caller explained.
“Why Pilot Officer, I hadn’t realized you’d been released back to duty so soon.” A surprised Clara replied.
“You did a fine job patching me up, and then I snuck out.” The small man grinned through the phone, ruefully. “I wanted to get back to flying. This was my first mission, and I couldn’t help myself, but I flew out over where Flying Officers Anders went down. I’m afraid I didn’t see them, but their plane was also missing. And I don’t mean parts of it, I mean the whole thing. The tide must have taken it out to sea, meaning the Germans didn’t blow it up. There was no wreckage floating in the surf. Along with a smoldering pill box above the cliffs, I’m forced to conclude that they escaped.” He finished hopefully.
“That is very kind of you Pilot Officer. I hope you didn’t put yourself in any danger to come by this information.” Clara said.
“No more than the usual.” The pilot lied. “I must be off. If I find out anything else I will certainly let you know as soon as I can.”
“Thank you so very much.” Clara said with true heartfelt thanks before hurrying off to relay the glimmer of hope to Anne.
***
The twins continued along their general southerly route at an amble that they hoped would fool any passersby in to thinks they were just local farm hands going about their business. Any further investigation would reveal the stolen rifle Payton hid down his trousers to the knee and strapped to his shoulder under the workmen’s jacket and the lugers both sported in those same jacket pockets. After leaving Le Havre proper, they found more and more evidence of the brutal war at hand. The German plan to invade France, Plan Yellow, included an immediate dash to the coast to take Le Havre. The importance of the deep-water port as a military objective was obvious. The Wehrmacht invaded the north of France through the Netherlands, while sending an army directly across Luxembourg straight for La Havre. The twins saw the devastation first hand. The Wehrmacht pincer from the south started at Le Havre and along with the northern arm enclosing from the Dutch border compressed the British and French forces around Dunkirk. Knowing full well the destruction in Dunkirk, Dylan and Payton saw the continued destruction this far south. Clusters of mangle and burnt out tanks, both French and German, lined the sides of the roads like grotesque medieval gargoyle statues. Pretty estates and farm houses alike stood half tall, with entire sides caved in by large caliber shell fire. Like a forest fire, war left a black mark on everything it touched.
As mid-morning approached they had managed to travel about twenty miles south of the city and decided to take a break in the shade of a low stone wall running along the deserted lane marking their path. “I figure we’re making about 3 to 4 miles an hour at this pace.” Payton surmised. They’d been walking for nearly six hours, proving his internal calculator remained well calibrated. “Any faster and we risk detection. I’d figure it's a shade over 100 miles to Carentan judging by the maps we took off the Germans. If we can manage fifteen good hours of walking a day, with the other nine for finding food, shelter, and sleep, we should be able to make it by the day after tomorrow or so. If we head there we can try to find Donna’s family and find out if there is any resistance in the area that might be able to help us back across the Channel.” Payton finished laying out the plan slowly forming in his head.
“Okay.” Dylan answered. “We probably don’t want to try and catch a ride. Even if we found a friendly Frenchman, cars are more likely to be stopped by the Germans.” Dylan concluded.
“Once we get to Carentan, we’ll have to discreetly find Donna’s family.” Payton continued thinking out loud. “But one problem at a time, I guess. At least we don’t have to worry too much about navigating. Ocean on our right means we are still headed in the right direction, more or less.” With that, he heaved himself up from the ground, and stretched out a hand for his brother. They both took one final drink from the liberated canteen and hoped to find another well or faucet soon. If they noticed the far-off rumblings of a car soon enough, they jumped behind a tree or wall to conceal themselves as they went. If their senses failed to warn them early enough, the twins shambled along the roads with their heads down and hoped for the best. None of the cars even slowed down through the heat of the day and in to the evening. The twins walked steadily with few breaks until the late evening light indicated the sun would set soon.
As usual, and with only a hint of competition to see who could walk the farthest, the twins exceeded the fifteen hours a day goal by a good two hours. With the sun already set and the remaining light barely illuminating the countryside, the twins found a small ravine off the main road and close to the beach. A small creek ran from the hills down to the ocean below creating an ideally sized depression for the two to hide. Several tall trees created a canopy over them as a gentle rain began to fall. Dylan found a flat rock and dug in to the depression even more.
“I think if we get this down a foot or two we can have a fire. The trees will cover smoke coming out and we’ll be in the ravine enough that no one will be able to see the glow from either the road or the beach.” Dylan explained as he used the rock to lever out some soft dirt next to the creek.
“I think you are right.” Payton answered. “We haven’t seen any pillboxes on this stretch of the coast, so it must be all right. The trees will keep the rain off, too. I’ll go find some firewood.”
With the fire made, the twins settled in just as if they were boys again camping on the coast of the Pacific Ocean in Oregon. They ate most of the last vestiges of the rations they’d taken the first day, and saved just enough for breakfast in the morning along with filling their canteens from the stream. Payton took the first watch, picking a spot just above their camp outside the glow of the dying fire that afforded him a full view in all directions without sticking much more than his head outside the small ravine. The brothers would take turns listening intently for any man made sounds, and constantly watching for any hints of light headed towards them. Every four hours they switched, and survived one more restless night before continuing their trek south into more of the unknown.
***
Clara softly dabbed a damp cloth around the ankle of her patient as she changed the dressing around the shrapnel damage. Usually that meant she was helping a young soldier recover, but the increased bombing around London meant that today she was helping change the dressing of a young girl of no more than eight years old. Her family home sat adjacent to a building that took a direct hit, so she was lucky to get away with just a lacerated ankle. Others in the building had not been as lucky.
“There you go love.” Clara cooed quietly at the little girl. “You are good as new. I’d guess they’ll let you out of here soon.”
“Do you know where my parents are?” The little girl asked ever so softly. “I haven’t seen them since the bombing.
“I haven’t, but I’m sure they’ll turn up.” Clara lied as her stomach turned over in torture for the poor little girl. She leaned forward and gave the girl a hug, more so for her than the most likely new orphan. Tears sprung from both sets of eyes as Clara held the small child for a little bit longer. After a moment, Clara got up and gave the girl a reassuring smile before heading back to the nurse’s station. The long shadows from the last vestiges of the setting sun hid Clara's concerned face from the other patients as she walked down the hallway.
Leaning against the small desk that passed as the nurses station, Anne saw her friend approach looking exhausted and knew she must look nearly the same. Without a word, the two embraced long enough to fight off the outside world and continue on with their duties.
The small hope that Dylan and Payton might still be alive gave them some reason to go on, but at this point they were pushing through for each other. They never even said a word as they continued on with their duties.
Clara moved on to a young soldier with a large hole in his shoulder. She changed the dressing and humored the poor boy when he asked when he could get back in the fight. “Any day now” she always answered him.
“Excuse me, Miss?” Clara heard a voice behind her. “I'm looking for a Miss Fields. Can you help me?” As she turned Clara saw a young man that looked vaguely familiar. He wore the uniform of a Captain in the commonwealth armies, and he had deep brown eyes with close cropped chestnut hair. For a moment, Clara froze thinking that this man brought bad news about the twins, but then she realized his accent was Canadian.
“You must mean Anne, she’s a friend of mine. I’m sure I can find her in a moment, what is it you need with her?” Clara responded politely.
“I’m her brother. Captain Jack Fields.” The man said, surprising Clara so much that her mouth nearly dropped open.
“Oh My Word!” Clara exclaimed. “She’s been worried sick about you! After Dunkirk no word had come. Her father sent word that he thought you’d made it out, but with no more details. She didn’t know what to do. Come with me, she must be just over here.” Clara said as she hurried the man between the beds of the hospital ward. Captain Fields disguised a limp as he rushed to keep up with Clara.