by Ian Lindsey
Anne also sat low on a stool tending to the medicine for a severely wounded patient. She finished with the syringe and turned to dispose of it just as she caught sight of her brother.
“Jack!” She bellowed in shock and delight. “You’re okay! Where have you been? Why are you limping?” Anne demanded of her older brother all in one breath.
“I’m pleased to see that you are okay too.” He started. “I didn’t know you were here. I wrote father and he just telegraphed me back that you were in London. I was shot in a rather delicate place and have been recovering down in Dover for the last several weeks.”
“You were shot? Where?” Clara interrupted.
“There are two answers to that question.” Captain Fields answered slyly. “One is far less embarrassing. I was shot on the beach in Dunkirk. Our unit was one of the last to evacuate. They pulled me on to the boat as we sailed away. The second answer is somewhat less than I would share with anyone, but I was shot in the arse, to be terribly precise.” He finished while both Anne and Clara failed to suppress giggles.
Anne flung herself in to her brother’s arms and hugged him fiercely, happy at the unexpected reunion. “Now I just need Payton back, and I will ask for no more as long as I shall live.” Anne mumbled in to her brother’s shoulder.
“Ah, yes, father did mention something about a Yank you chased after to wind up here.” Jack chided as he glanced at Clara for support.
“You’ll get no support from me.” Clara bluntly answered the glance. “I’m in love with his twin brother.” She said as her smile broke through ever so briefly before fading back to a concerned visage.
“Well, I’ll have to give both these boys a good thrashing. Where are they now? Let’s have dinner!” Jack declared before noticing the sorrowful look on the faces of both girls.
“They crashed, in France. We don’t know where they are.” Anne answered, deflating some of the buoyant mood from finding her brother alive and well.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He answered quietly.
“They know their way around, they’re twins, and they helped at Dunkirk, pulling boatloads of men off the beaches with my brother.” Clara offered in the sincere hope that she could talk herself in to believing that the twins were okay.
“I heard about that!” Jack exclaimed. “A set of twins kept coming inland to get more men until one of their boats exploded. I was set to be on their next trip before things went awry. I’m quite pleased to hear they made it back to England intact.” Jack grinned. “I’m sure two resourceful chaps like that can navigate France and find a resistance group to get them home.” He said reassuringly, though none of them felt nearly as strongly about it as they wanted to.
"We're off in an hour." Clara said to change the subject. "We'll round up Simone find something to eat after that, if that suits you Jack?"
"That suits me fine. I would never think to keep my saintly sister from her duties." Jack teased lightly. "I'll meet you at the hospital entrance then." He smiled as he limped slightly back the way he came.
***
Both twins were already awake when they heard the first truck of the morning rumble by on the road a quarter mile inland from their little camp. The burning embers of their small fire gave off no visible smoke, thankfully, so they quickly buried it with sand to further avoid detection as the sun barely crested in the east. Quietly, they waited for any other sounds betraying anyone approaching. After a full five minutes, they silently looked at each other and simultaneously consented to head out. The early morning sun indicated a general direction, which again simply meant keeping the ocean on the right, and the sun on their left during the morning. When the sun made it all the way to their right, they knew it would be time to rest. But, resting stood a long way off. After a few minutes stretching out creaky and sore muscles from another night sleeping on the ground, the twins picked up the pace for their continued trek south. Amazingly, the twins managed to eat up ground at nearly a double time pace despite the rough terrain needed for stealth until they reached the road and resumed their shambling jaunt imitating local workers.
The twins said little as they meandered towards what they hoped would be a way out. A German soldier overhearing them speak English surely led to the end. A grim stoicism crossed both faces as they mentally searched for their next move once they reached Carentan. After a couple of hours on the road, Payton nudged his brother and gestured toward the coast. Dylan focused on the small column of smoke rising from the beach. They clambered off the road and up a dune without arousing suspicion. To their surprise, they saw the smoldering ruins of another Spitfire half in the surf.
Payton refrained from stating the obvious, that the scene looked familiar, and simply asked "Do you see the pilot?"
"No." Dylan answered simply. "He may be dead or alive, but we should go check before the Germans arrive."
"Are you sure?" Payton asked quietly, already knowing his own answer. "The Germans will be here soon, and he may already be dead."
"Yes, I'm sure. You came to help me, so we should go and help him if we can." Dylan finished as he started toward the downed plane. Payton followed not far behind, but then stopped.
"I'll find a vantage point up here and cover you while you investigate. I'll signal if I see anything coming." Payton explained to his brother.
"Right, I'll see what's up with pilot and then search for any supplies we might use." Dylan said over his shoulder as he started again at a trot down the beach. Payton turned around and climbed back to the top of the dune before finding a solid tree to hide behind that afforded him an expansive view in all directions. Using the Zeiss binoculars that he had taken off the Germans in the pill box on that first beach he resisted the urge to simply watch his brother and began to continually sweep the area for any signs of approaching complications. Every so often he snuck a peek at his brother, and by the time Dylan reached the plane Payton began to hold out a small hope for the other downed pilot.
Unfortunately, the feeling was not to last. Just as Dylan looked up from where he'd climbed to the cockpit and signaled his brother in the negative about the pilot and with hand signals indicated the hazard of a leaking fuel tank. Payton caught site of an approaching patrol a little less than a mile away and approaching fast from the road towards the beach. Dylan saw his brother wave frantically at him as he grabbed the small supply bag under the pilot’s seat. He jumped down and ran over the pebble strewn beach as fast as his legs would carry him over the three hundred yards between him and his brother. Dylan thought their only hope was if he could safely reach Payton and hide. Payton stared intently at the approaching patrol and knew it would be a close thing for Dylan to hide before he was noticed. Fortunately, the patrol seemed in no hurry to reach the beach. Payton considered a diversion to ensure his brother's escape, and decided he had to take the risk. If he could put a shot in to the plane’s exposed and leaking fuel tank the ensuing explosion would surely allow them to escape, and hopefully startle any smart Wehrmacht soldiers enough that they would go directly to the plane and not discern the gunshot first and follow that sound. At worst, if the self-sealing fuel tank held up like it should, nothing would happen.
Payton took careful aim as his brother continued at a breakneck pace over the beach, thankful that the rocky beach meant no footprints for Dylan to leave behind. Payton exhaled a half breath and pulled the trigger. Only an instant after he fired he knew that his aim held true as the smoldering plane spewed forth a tremendous explosion that only a direct hit could deliver. Evidently the self-sealing fuel tanks had already ruptured well past failure, or such minor shot would not cause nearly the conflagration that leapt forth from the already damaged plane. Quickly picking up the Zeiss glasses and turning toward the patrol Payton first saw the men duck, and then race toward the sound of the explosion. Dylan arrived moments later, and the two beat a hasty retreat over the dunes and back to their southerly course.
“All I managed was his emergency pack, but I didn’t look
in it.” Dylan said after the two felt far enough away and safe enough to stop for the night more than several hours later. The twins had settled on a dilapidated shed in the far corner of field that was the only building standing on an estate the Germans had shelled. The shed was barely more than a roof and four walls, but it was large enough to conceal the twins and remote enough to make any approaching sounds obvious. The roof overhead managed to keep out most of the sputtering rain, and the walls stored enough heat to obviate any need for a fire. As both twins felt raggedly tired, avoiding the search for firewood came as a welcome relief.
“At the very least we’ll have a few bandages. Not much to show for the close scrape with that patrol.” Payton conceded. “Let’s have a look.”
Dylan pulled the small canvas bag out from under his jacket and poured the contents on the floor in the waning sunlight. As Dylan suggested, two small medical kits fell out first. Each twin grabbed one for their pockets. Scissors, gauze, and tape certainly would come in handy, but hopefully not for patching up a wound.
The only other thing to fall out of the bag was a small chocolate bar. Without saying a word Dylan broke it in half and the boys enjoyed a meal for the first time since crashing in France. A small grin creased Payton’s lips as he thought out loud “Not exactly dessert at the Savoy, but at least it is real chocolate and we don’t have to share with the girls!”
Dylan laughed at the joke and returned his own “And at least we didn’t have to steal it from the pantry at home, so Mom can’t be mad at us either!” The small chuckles relieved the grimness of their situation enough that they reminisced some about their parents and home before both twins fell fast asleep, not even bothering to post a guard. Carentan lay only a morning’s walk away.
Chapter 28
July 18th, 1940
Very few people knew where Timothy was at the moment, and that was just the way he preferred it. Other than the man on the boat with him, only his father knew exactly where he was going and why. In truth, running the boats in to Dunkirk exhilarated the small man, and he wanted to find that rush again. His new American friends inspired him, so all the while they flew above, Timothy discreetly inquired around London about ways he could make himself useful to the war effort, Ireland’s neutrality be damned. In the end, his service came down to what he knew best, smuggling. After making the right connections; such as with Mr. Cain, Timothy now smuggled guns in to occupied France and the Resistance.
The man with him on the boat was named LeMark, and other than being French and part of the Resistance Timothy knew absolutely nothing about the man. This was their second such voyage, and the two survived the first so Timothy figured they made a good team. The taciturn Frenchman contrasted greatly with the boisterous Irishman, but both knew their work. Timothy handled the shipment and brought the boat, and LeMark handled the connections in France and captained the boat due to his local knowledge of the coastline that barely outpaced that of Timothy. Both men could accomplish the other’s task if necessary.
In the early morning darkness, several hours before sunrise, LeMark looked hard towards the French coastline in search of the small inlet that the resistance covered with camouflage netting to hide the boat from the Germans as they unloaded the guns. The shipment was large enough that it would take several hours to unload by hand. Also complicating the timeline were the tides. LeMark dare not bring the boat close to shore under anything other than minimal steerage power, so they were at the mercy of the rising and falling tides. They timed their trip to arrive during the flood tide, and must hide the boats during the day and wait for the late ebb tide to slip away unnoticed.
“Where are we landing tonight?” Timothy inquired quietly as LeMark continued concentrating on the coastline.
“Carentan, contact is a family called Henri.” LeMark answered quietly.
***
Payton and Dylan slept the sleep of the weary more so than safety allowed. They’d endured battle by air, escape from the beach with a gunfight on the cliffs, followed by their furtive and tense trip south punctuated with moments of frenzied fighting for their lives. Both twins slept well past sunrise, and only awoke at the sound of a medium size truck rumbling by. The sound woke Dylan and Payton with a start, but both had the presence of mind to stay silent as they abruptly woke from their deep slumber in case the truck led a German patrol. Payton signaled to his brother, and they each crept silently to opposite corners of the shed. They scanned the hedgerows around them through the openings between the slats of the shed.
“It's just a farm truck.” Dylan breathed with a sigh of relief to his brother.
“Good, that was close.” Payton replied. “Let’s get some breakfast and get on the move.” He urged his brother. “The longer we hide in a shed the longer we look guilty.”
“Fine by me. I think our options for breakfast are sauerkraut or sardines.” Dylan replied wryly.
“Let’s make a feast and have both.” Payton jabbed back. “I think we’ll hit the outskirts of Carentan later this morning, and be in the town proper by lunchtime. We’ll have to make reservations for our next meal.” A grinning Payton said to finish the joke.
With the saltiest breakfast that either twin could remember down the hatch, the peaked out the shed again before embarking further in to the unknown. After working their way mostly west again for another two hours the twins began encountering the edges of Carentan. They’d strayed further from the coast to reach the town, but scarcely noticed as they’d been able to follow the road for most of the morning. The widely spaced farm houses turned in to small cottages marching towards the beach on sparsely lined roads. Once the cottages began packing together, they knew the center of town must be close at hand. The sun had yet to reach its full apex, so they had made good time, not that it mattered. They arrived almost directly west of Carentan half a day earlier than they anticipated.
“We're here, now what?” Payton wondered aloud.
“Two options that I can see.” Dylan answered. “We can head for the coast and have a look around, or we can head for the center of town and see if we can find the Henri’s.”
“I’m not sure which will be more heavily patrolled, the coast or the town.” Payton mused aloud. “I’m guessing we’ll be less conspicuous in town though. I vote we head that way.”
“I’ll second that. We’d be more exposed than a failed suicide squeeze if we get caught on the beach a mile from town.”
“Town it is then.” Payton said with a flair as if they had just made plans for a double date with Clara and Anne. “I think we should stick together. Any roadblocks or alerts might only be for one person. If we are a pair they might not pay us any mind.” Payton reasoned.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving you.” Dylan answered a little mischievously.
“Didn’t Donna mention an old church with a spire when she described the town?” Payton asked after ignoring his brother’s comment.
“Indeed she did. She said it covered one end of the town square.” Dylan answered. “It would be a good place to get a bird’s eye view of the town since we seem to be fresh out of airplanes for reconnaissance.” Dylan answered continuing his mischievous streak that belied his buoyant mood. In fact, both twins seemed relieved to accomplish the first step in their escape plan. Step two still had yet to be fully defined, but they felt happy for being one step closer to returning to England, to getting back in the fight, and to holding their beloveds in their arms again.
***
Clara, Anne, Simone, and Jack gathered again a morning and a day after the first reunion and dinner. Jack sensed the pallor hanging over the three young ladies, and although he knew why he still tried his best to liven things up a bit.
“I know the three of you worked all day yesterday, but how about showing a young lad around London?” He asked.
“We promised to make plans together for the next day that we all had off, but never did.” Simone said. “And I still haven’t heard anything from Timothy in more t
han a week, so I guess I’m free if everyone else is.” She finished. The other two girls assented as well, but more so out of a sense that that they needed to soldier on than anything else. Jack suggested a trip across the Thames to see Buckingham palace and Parliament at Westminster.
“I’ve never seen the Commonwealth seat of government, so I might as well see it now.” He reasoned. “They certainly didn’t get us in to this war, but perhaps they can find a way out of it for us.” He thought out loud, though unconvincingly. The others agreed and scattered off to make themselves ready for a day out. Jack dressed quickly in his uniform, while Anne wore a pale blue, low wasted cotton dress with short cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline under a yellow crocheted cardigan. She looked very much like the student she had so recently been. Clara wore a simple white short sleeve blouse with a slightly daring cut out and loosely tied neckline over a light grey wool summer weight pencil skirt, along with a bright emerald green cardigan. Simone took a little longer, and overdressed slightly in a full length empire wasted dress in a very faint lavender color better suited for early cocktails, but she seemed not to notice as she covered her shoulders with a velvet shawl. She seldom wore her full wardrobe anymore, so she was happy to dress up a little. Jack took no notice, and the girls enjoyed her elegance with no hint of envy.
The quartet walked through the chic neighborhood where Simone had spent all of her life (at least the part of her life when she was in London) and counted their blessings that the Luftwaffe had focused elsewhere. They knew from the patients entering their wards every day that the wounded were coming from the industrial east end, and around the Thames as their ordeal at the hospital had attested. They eventually found an underground station that took them under it all before they departed at a Westminster Station.