by Ian Lindsey
Payton and Dylan hesitated, examining the problem of the grate as best they could.
“Go next.” Payton said to his brother. “I’ll slide the grate as close as I can and then try to grab it from underneath and pull it over before I fall. I might look like I’m on monkey bars, but I think it will work. If not, at least I’ll have it far enough over that we can put Timothy on our shoulders to move it over.”
Dylan never said a word and proceeded down the hole. Payton followed, and with his legs hanging in the abyss he used his body weight to pull the grate after him. He managed to get the grate halfway over the opening before lowering himself down with a hand on each side of the rim of the hole. Hanging from one arm, he used all his strength to pull the grate further in to place until just enough space was left for him to pull his other hand under the grate. Payton pulled himself close to the great, and then with one quick, jarring push used his swinging momentum to jump the grate up and over in to place.
After Payton fell to the ground Dylan said “I guess all those pull ups they made us do finally came in handy!” with a grin.
“Other than being noisy, that worked. Follow me please.” The no-nonsense Genevive said, bringing everyone back on task as only a teacher of wayward students could. She set off at a brisk walk, and the men had to half trot to catch up with her along the dry sides of the aqueduct.
After catching up with Genevive, the twins explored the tunnel with their torches. Long past use, no water ran through the tunnels save for a damp, slim stream of condensation down the middle of path. The ceiling vaulted in an arch above their heads, cresting at over 9 feet, just as Genevive had said. The stonework lining the walls and ceiling were a dark slate grey from lack of sunlight and worn smooth from the centuries of flowing water before the French had installed their own modern water works. Both Americans admired the engineering and precision construction involved in building such a tunnel with only primitive tools centuries before this group laid eyes on it. Now, they had to use it as a tool to escape.
***
“After the tour, I believe you still owe me lunch.” Maggie said to Jack playfully as they walked out of Parliament in to Westminster. “And, I’m quite famished.” She added. Clara, Simone, and Anne followed them out of the broad doors and down the steps out on to the street where the post midday sun shone brightly before them.
“How ungentlemanly of me. Of course, where shall we go?” Jack responded back in a very serious tone.
“I think it’s a lovely idea to have lunch out, but I’m not terribly hungry at the moment.” Anne said, leaving unsaid that she wasn’t hungry because of their brief meeting with the Baron of Dover and his news about all three of the boys in France.
“I’m not either.” Clara added. “I’ll go with you on the underground back to the house.” She offered.
“I’ll join you.” Simone said to the two girls because she didn’t much feel like eating and felt even less like being the third wheel for the burgeoning interest between Jack and Maggie.
“Suit yourselves. Lead on Mademoiselle.” Jack said without a hint of regret as the others left. So, Jack and Maggie walked away flirtatiously close.
“We may have trouble with those two.” Clara noted as the three girls walked toward the underground entrance.
“I’ve never known Maggie to take such a shine to anyone.” Simone added. “She is usually such a snob about men and bats them away with a stick.” She finished with a small giggle.
“She seems lovely. Jack usually has good taste in women.” Anne said of her brother.
“Good for him, after the horrid ordeal in France I’m sure most any company is welcome.” Clara added.
“She is lovely,” Simone said “but you two are more so. She didn’t catch the eye of either of your men the first night we met. Timothy had invited me to dinner and said to bring two friends, so I brought Maggie and her sister Carolyn. That was when I met Payton and Dylan. We had a splendid evening, but no sparks flew between the twins and the Fitzwaters.”
“I’d wondered what she meant when she told her father about the American’s at the Savoy.” Anne mused.
“They were perfect gentlemen, but I half expected to never see them again after that night.” Simone said with a shrug. “I was a little disappointed, and quite frankly so were the Fitzwaters. However, with Jack in tow it seems there will be no rivalry.”
“I don’t think it would be an issue anyway.” Clara offered as they settled in to their seats on their train. “The way Dylan looks at me makes me feel safe even amongst this chaos. He’s not just handsome, he’s kind and devil may care exciting. I can’t really describe it but the first time I saw him I knew it, even as his twin stood next to him I knew he was the one. I just wish he wasn’t so brave. Then he would be here and not lost in France.” Clara nearly sobbed out the last few words.
“I know how you feel.” Anne continued her line of thought quietly. “You’d think that they are so alike that you could fall for either of them easily enough, but Payton is the one I knew I’d love. I agreed to meet them again after only meeting them for a moment. I would never do that, but Payton had such intelligent eyes, and such a passion for making this world right that I couldn’t say no. He makes me see things differently, through his deeply thoughtful words and his truly caring actions. I just want him back. I want all three of them back for all of us, so we can all have a future together.” Anne finished, fighting back tears but with a resolute statement declaring the future for all of them. Neither Simone or Clara objected, and they rode quietly back to the house. These women rarely cried or fought back tears. They were strong, independent women. The Germans, that devil Hitler, and their war brought about theses trying times that tested even the strongest wills.
***
The small group continued to follow Genevive through the maze of tunnels, making sure to stay close to her quick turns left and right. The pace quickened, but to the twins amazement the aqueduct remained the same throughout. No growing or shrinking, just standard uniformity throughout. The engineering was marvelous, they thought again, but the navigation would fall somewhere past impossible without Genevive.
At last, they saw the literal light at the end of the tunnel and nearly ran to the drain run out. However, as they approached the daylight the men saw heavy steel bars blocking their path.
“What now?” Timothy asked anxiously. Without answering, Genevive walked to the prison like bars on the far right of the tunnel and reached through them, under the lip of the tunnel structure sticking out slightly above a small pond below. She felt around momentarily, then muttered a small curse to herself before standing and walking to the far left set of bars. She repeated the process, but this time came back through the bars with a four-foot length of rebar and a medium size rock. She walked back to the right side of the tunnel and tapped the rock carefully along the bottom of the penultimate bar from the edge. Once she found her spot, she rapped the stone against the bar as hard as she could.
Dylan saw immediately that the bar had dislodged slightly from the base and walked forward to help by pulling opposite of her strikes.
“Not that way, it won’t move. Hold the rock against the next bar, please, here.” Genevive ordered Dylan. He followed her directions and held the rock about two feet off the ground against the third bar. Genevive wedged the four-foot length of rebar between the rock and the outside of the third bar. She then tugged on the end of her little lever mightily until the bottom of the prison bar move aside by two feet. With a smile and a flourish Genevive turned and accepted the applause of her companions for the ingenious use of the simplest tool.
As he clapped, Timothy quoted Archemides “Give me a big enough lever…and I will move the world.”
“Well done, I thought we might be at the end there for a moment.” Payton added lightly.
“Let me go first. I’m the smallest.” Timothy said, not thinking of the diminutive Mrs. Henri. Timothy deftly slipped between the grates and slith
ered down the small embankment to the pond. After a moment of scouting, he returned to the opposite sides of the bars and reported back. “I know where we are, I can lead us from here. No sense in the Henri’s being seen in public. Merci and bend the bars back in place once the twins are out.” He concluded.
Without another word the twins slipped through the bars, far less deftly due to their size. However, both scraped through after a little more pulling on the bar.
“Godspeed, my friends. Au Revoir.” Said Joseph. He slipped the duffle bag off his shoulder, and handed out three short stock carbine rifles to supplement the handguns the boys carried. Each rifle had two clips, which was enough. If they needed more than 30 shots between them hey weren’t going to make it anyway. And with that, Joseph and his wife disappeared back down the tunnel from whence they came.
“Do you really know where you are going, or are you just trying to save them?” Dylan asked Timothy immediately after the Henri’s departure.
“A little of both.” Timothy said jovially. “The beach is west, and we are west of town, so it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. The cove where we unloaded is just south of the main headland, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find once we get to the coast.”
“With only 40 minutes we best be on our way, then.” Payton said stridently. He knew Timothy was right, but also would have appreciated the help of the Henris. With no margin for error, the trio needed all the help they could get. With no better option, he began walking around the pond.
For the first time, the triumvirate looked around the edges of the small pond. They found themselves marching along the sunken shell of a small dell about forty feet across, with high grass at the top, and the thirty-foot pond forming the bottom of a bowl about eight feet deep. The edges of the bowl sloped gently up, so traversing the sides proved no problem. As they approached the far edge, a well-worn path appeared to apparently mark the best exit. Payton held up his hand indicating for the others to stop as he crept up the edge of the bowls rim to scout for any German soldiers. Peeking just his head above the lip of the pathway, Payton saw nothing. He stood to his full height and motioned the group forward.
Mrs. Henri had been true to her word. The trail led the group to the beach in less than a quarter mile. “South is left, I believe.” Timothy smiled triumphantly as he started out for the sandy expanse.
Before Timothy took a step, though, Dylan grabbed his shoulder and indicated quietly for the group to stick in the high dune grass. “More concealment.” Payton added under his breath. Even in a low crouch, the three moved quickly until they couldn’t anymore. Payton heard them first, the unmistakable sound of a Wehrmacht patrol. Of course, if they came to the town they would come to the beach as well. Boots scrapped against the sand like scouring paper, and German guttural voices rose above the crash of the ocean on the shore. Signaling the others to stay put, Payton crab walked to the edge of the dune. Burrowing as deeply as possible in the sand, he moved several large stocks of the dune grass aside. Immediately, he saw only a corporal and two privates walking slowing down the beach from the north. No older than the boys they hoped they didn’t find, the soldiers marched briskly down the middle of the beach about a hundred yards north, and fifty yards west of Payton.
Moving only the necessary body parts, Payton slithered back to his companions and gave a quiet, concise report. “Three Wehrmacht, coming down the beach, we have about thirty seconds until they reach us.”
“Stay hidden?” Timothy asked without much hope.
“No, even if they don’t find us now they may find the boat or us again on their way back.” Dylan surmised quickly.
“Work the compass. Shoot in 15 seconds” Dylan said before scampering north among the grass as he unslung the carbine from across his back.
“What does he mean by work the compass?” Timothy asked urgently as he saw Payton unsling his carbine and begin to move south at an angle towards the edge of the dune grass.
“Shoot the guy in the middle. 10 seconds.” Payton said over his shoulder as the group became the smallest semblance of a fighting line.
Timothy shimmied down the dune until he could see his target, and lay prone in the classic soldiers firing position. He aimed, took a deep breath, and finished his count to ten before pulling the trigger. He heard only the bang of his own gun, but saw all three soldiers all to the ground. The three timed their shots perfectly. That’s what they meant, Timothy thought after a moment. North shoots east, south shoots west, following the compass clockwise. They’d just left Timothy in the middle to shoot the soldier in the middle. Then, realizing he’d just shot some poor boy, Timothy nearly threw up.
Dylan emerged from his spot no more than twenty yards north and hustled down the beach.
“Run!” He shouted as he passed Timothy’s position. When Timothy didn’t move he double back quickly. Timothy sat up, in shock. Dylan grabbed him by the collar and shoved him down the beach. “You didn’t have a choice, move now before the city patrols can get here. They heard our shots and are for sure on the way.” Timothy came to his senses and began running, knowing his life depended on it. They soon caught up to Payton, who waited for them another twenty yards down the beach. With no attempt at hiding, they ran down the edge of the beach.
“The cove, where is it?” Payton asked urgently.
“The treeline, those dogwoods, just up around that bend. We’re almost there.” Timothy said nearly grinning ear to ear. His smile faded quickly as her heard loud intermittent pops coming from the dunes. Then, the repeating chatter of a German submachine gun. The three automatically began to zig and zag down the beach, hoping to throw off the fire of the Germans while gaining a little distance for themselves.
The sand kicked up by the approaching Germans crept closer and closer to the group. Payton yelled “Keep going!” As he executed a perfect bent knee baseball slide to stop himself. He popped up to one knee while pivoting in the direction of the fire. He let loose with four precise shots, emptying his clip in to the advancing Germans. Two Germans fell, clutching their chests. The rest of the advancing squad immediately dove for the ground. Payton stood and ran in a straight line to catch up with Timothy and Dylan.
The three burst through the line of trees and saw the small pier below extending out to the open waters. LeMark, having heard the gunfire, had already cast off the lines and begun to drift away from the pier before applying the throttle. In desperation, the three ran faster than any of them thought they could go. Their boots pounded on the first planks of the pier as the Dylan began to pull ahead of Timothy’s shorter legs. Payton followed behind, mostly caught up after his diversion.
Thirty feet from the end of the pier, Dylan leapt for the side of the boat. He landed cleanly halfway up the gunwale, but he knew the boat was gaining speed. Timothy jumped next, and landed just on the edge of the hull with only ten feet left on the pier. Payton, knowing that he was out of room, ran to the last corner of the pier before leaping with every ounce of strength remaining in his legs. Dylan scrambled back to the stern of the boat and reached for his brother. Payton reached forward as the boat accelerated away from underneath him and caught his brothers outstretched hand. Dylan pulled with all his might, and pivoted as hard as he could. The combined momentum swung Payton hard in to the side of the boat, but between holding on to his brother and reaching and arm over the side of the hull rail he managed to stick long enough for Dylan and Timothy to pull him in with only up to his knees getting wet.
LeMark burst from the wheelhouse to find out what in the devil had thumped on to his boat to find the three laying flat on their backs, gulping down huge mouthfuls of air in to their heaving chests.
“Sorry to be late, old chap.” Timothy grinned between gasps. “Full throttle ahead, no need to let them take any more shots at us.” LeMark shook his head, and returned to the wheel. The twins rolled over and assumed firing positions below the stern wall. The Germans, however, never got another shot off. By the time they’d cleared th
e tree line and could see the boat the sun was low enough in the sky to blind them, and the boat was far enough out to see to effectively put it out of range. The sun quickly sank below the horizon, and the boys all prayed grateful thanks for their safety, and quick return to England.
Chapter 31
July 19th, 1940
Just after midnight, LeMark pulled his boat in to the same Dover harbor that Timothy and the twins had used during Dunkirk, not much more than a month before.
“Home sweet home.” Dylan cracked wry. “This must be our lucky port of call.” He finished. Luck had run with them. No U-boat found them, or thought enough of the small fishing boat to waste a torpedo. They hadn’t even bothered to surfaced and fire their deck guns. Maybe they thought the small boat was bait, ready to radio a torpedo plane or destroyer just over the horizon as soon as a U-boat revealed itself. In any event, the safe return to British soil seemed the greatest blessing possible. William the conqueror and his army they were not, but safely ashore all the same.
“What now?” Payton asked with exhaustion written all over his face. “Its only another hour and a half to London, if we can find our way.” He finished.
“I wouldn’t mind telling Clara I’m alive in person.” Dylan said with a sly grin.
“You might be sorry. She probably found someone much better while you were gone. I’m sure any officer at the hospital would be happy to oblige replacing you.” Timothy teased his friend. With the worry and tension left behind in France, the three resumed the normal good natured ribbing standard to their friendship.
“London it is then.” Payton said before adding with true sincerity “Mr. LeMark, thank you for allowing us on your boat and bringing us back safely. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“It’s my boat! Who do you think dragged you back here!” Timothy nearly shouted with mock indignation.