CHAPTER TWO
_Diving Doom_
The small but speedy Renault car scooted along the broad dusty Frenchroad like a grey-brown bug fleeing for its life. The ride out of Parishad both thrilled Dave and depressed him. It was exciting to streak pastthe long lines of army cars and troops on the march. It gave him a kickthe way the simple showing of Lieutenant Defoe's military papers clearedthe way through barrier after barrier thrown up across the road. Thosepapers were as a magic charm that made officers and men alike spring toattention and salute. And in a way they _were_ a magic charm. They hadnot only been signed by the highest military authorities, but by thePresident of France, himself.
Yet with all that it made him a little sad to leave Paris. He felt asthough he were running away in the face of danger. He had had lots offun with his Dad and Lieutenant Defoe in Paris. Swell times, and now hewas rushing away from the city. Running away because danger might cometo Paris. True, he was only obeying his father's instructions, yet hecould not rid himself of the feeling that he was running away.
From time to time he glanced at Lieutenant Defoe at the wheel of thecar. The laughter and gaiety had gone from the Frenchman's eyes. Hisface was set and grim. He gripped the wheel tight with his big hands,and every so often he flung an anxious look up into the sun filled bluesky. Each time Dave followed his look but could see nothing. Eventually,the question was forced from his lips.
"What's the matter, Lieutenant?" he asked. "You look worried. You thinksomething's going to happen?"
The French officer shrugged, and for the five hundredth time peered upat the sky.
"Something going to happen?" he murmured. "Of course not. My neck, it isa little stiff. It feels better when I move my head, so."
Lieutenant Defoe punctuated his words with a laugh, but that laugh didnot ring true in Dave's ears.
"You're looking for German airplanes, aren't you?" he said straight out."And you are worried, too, about how the army is getting along. I sawyou talking with a colonel just before we left. Did you get any news?"
"We are holding the German cows," Lieutenant Defoe said through clenchedteeth. "The English and our gallant troops are now pouring into Belgiumby the thousands. We will throw the Boche back. Yes, he shall be taughta lesson he will not forget for a long time."
The French officer lifted one hand from the wheel, doubled it into arock hard fist and shook it savagely at an imaginary foe.
"This time we shall teach them a lesson, once and for all!" he cried."We...!"
The rest died on his lips. Rather it was changed into a cry of bothanger and surprise. At that moment the car had gone spinning around asharp bend in the road and there directly ahead was a scene that broughtboth Defoe and Dave bolt upright in the seat. The road was black withmen, women, and children. A sea of people, and horses, and cows, andgoats, and dogs was sweeping toward them. There were wagons, and carts,and even baby carriages piled high with household goods. And above itall rose a constant unending babble of frightened tongues.
"Good gosh, look at them!" Dave exclaimed.
Lieutenant Defoe didn't say a word. He quickly slipped the car out ofgear and braked it to a stop. Then he climbed down onto the road andDave saw him slide his hand toward his holstered gun. The swarm of men,women, and children advanced relentlessly toward them. Lieutenant Defoeflung up one hand.
"Halt!" he bellowed at the top of his voice. "What is the meaning ofthis?"
Ten thousand tongues answered his question all in the same voice.
"The Boche!" they screamed. "They have broken through. They have takeneverything. They are everywhere. They will slaughter us like cattle, ifthey catch us. How far to Paris? We are tired. We have walked for hours.Yes, for years!"
"Enough!" Lieutenant Defoe roared. "The Boche will not break through.The soldiers of France will not permit it. You are but frightened fools,all of you. Go back to your homes. I command you to! Go back to yourhomes where you will be safe. The Boche will not harm you!"
An old, old woman clutching a bundle of clothing laughed wildly andrushed up close to the French officer. She shook a gnarled fist in hisface and screamed at the top of her voice.
"Our soldiers? Where are they? I will tell you. They are in retreat.There are too many of the Boche. And they have airplanes, and, tanks,and guns. With my own eyes I have seen them shoot down anybody, andeverybody. I ask you, where is our army? And the English, where arethey? I will tell you, my Lieutenant, the Boche have killed them, killedthem all. Turn this thing around and flee for your lives. That is myadvice to you."
"Silence, old woman!" Lieutenant Defoe thundered. "Enough of such talk!Spies have filled you with such lies. That is what they wish to do. Toscare you, and frighten you, and to make you leave your homes, andclutter up the roads this way. Listen to me! I...."
The Frenchman roared with all the power of his lungs, but it was evenless than a faint cry in the wilderness. The long lines of terrorstricken refugees drowned him out. Like a gigantic black wave parted inthe middle they swept by on both sides of the car. The Frenchman's faceturned beet red with fury. He shouted, and ranted, and raved. But it wasall to no avail. His voice and his actions were but a waste of breathand muscle energy. For a little while Dave tried to help him. He triedto reason with the mass of terrified humanity sweeping by the car. Hebegged, he pleaded, and he threatened, but it was as useless asthundering at the sun to turn off its light. No one paid him anyattention. It is doubtful if anybody even heard him. Eventually he sankdown on the seat, his voice exhausted and his throat sore.
He looked helplessly at Lieutenant Defoe. The French officer was apicture of misery, and of burning anger. Tears were in his eyes, and hewas working his mouth though no sound came off his lips. In time he gotback in the car and sank dejectedly behind the wheel.
"I am ashamed of my countrymen!" he shouted at Dave. "I am mortifiedthat you should see this. But this is the curse of war. The people arelike chickens when war comes. They do not stop to think or reason. Theythink of nothing but fleeing for their lives. They ... they are likechildren. I am ashamed."
The utter sadness and remorse in the officer's voice touched Davedeeply. He reached over and took hold of the Lieutenant's arm andpressed hard.
"That's okay, I understand, Lieutenant," he said. "Forget it. Look,we'll be stuck here forever if we don't do something. Let's try and getoff to the side. I'll get out and push them aside, and you keep the carin low gear. Okay, take it easy, Lieutenant."
Some of the anger faded from the Frenchman's eyes and the corners of hismouth tilted in a faint smile.
"At your orders, _mon Capitaine_," he said. "Yes, you get out and warnthem away, and I shall drive the car to the side of the road."
Dave returned his smile and slid out of the car. No sooner had his feettouched the road than he felt as though his body had been caught in theroaring torrent of a rampaging river. Like a chip of wood he was pickedup and swept along, and it was several seconds before he was able toregain his footing and force his way back and around to the front of thecar. There he put out both his hands and started waving the steadystream of babbling refugees to the left and to the right.
It was tedious, heartbreaking effort, and a hundred times he came withinan ace of falling flat on the road under the crawling wheels of theRenault. But for his young strong body pushing and shoving this way andthat Lieutenant Defoe would not have been able to move the car forwardan inch. As it was the car did not travel more than fifty yards in agood half hour. By then Dave was drenched with his own sweat. His hatwas gone and his clothes were slowly but surely being torn from hisback.
Suddenly he saw Lieutenant Defoe at his shoulder and heard theFrenchman's voice shouting in his ear.
"It is useless, _mon Capitaine_! It is madness. We will not get anyplace with the car. The town of Beaumont is but a few _kilometres_ahead. There is an army post there. I shall request a military car anda driver. Ah me, I am desolate that this should happen. Here! Watch whatyou are doing! You! Let go of m
e, my old one! _Attention!_"
At that moment the French officer had been caught in the river ofpeople. He struggled and he fought but he was relentlessly swept alongand away from Dave's clutching hands. In almost the same moment Dave,himself, was caught up by the moving mass. It was either a case ofmoving along with the stream or stumbling to his hands and knees andbeing trampled under foot, or being run over by the heavy wheel of an oxcart or wagon. It was absolutely impossible, and an act of sheersuicide, to buck that packed throng.
And so Dave took the only course open to him. He moved along with thestream of refugees and inch by inch worked his way to the edge of thestream and into a clear space. There he paused for breath and strainedhis eyes for a glimpse of Lieutenant Defoe, but the Frenchman wasnowhere to be seen. He had been virtually swallowed up by the stream ofhumanity moving relentlessly and blindly forward. Dave thought of thetroops and the long lines of army cars he and Defoe had passed sinceleaving Paris, and shuddered at the thought. When the army and thepopulace met what would happen? Who would give way, or would anybody?In his mind's eye he pictured other French officers like Defoe strivingto force the refugees to abandon their mad flight and return home. Itwas not a pretty picture to imagine. It was not a nice situation tocontemplate. Troops with tanks and guns moving forward to meet the enemybut instead meeting thousands and thousands of their own flesh andblood.
"Please, God, put sense in the heads of these poor people!" Davebreathed softly to himself. "Tell them what they should do for the sakeof France, and...."
Dave Dawson never finished that prayer. At that moment there came to hisears a new and entirely different sound. At first he could think only oftons of brick sliding down a slanting tin roof. Then suddenly he knewwhat it was, and in that same instant the rising hysterical scream ofthe passing throngs echoed his own thought.
"_Les Boches! Les Boches!_ Take cover at once!"
Like thousands upon thousands of stampeded cattle the refugees brokeranks and went scattering madly and wildly in all directions. Carts andwagons were left where they had come to a halt on the road with theirhorses, or oxen, or dogs standing dumb eyed and drooping in theirtracks. Dave stayed where he was for an instant, not moving an inch, andhis eyes fixed upon the cluster of dots streaking down from the blue skyhigh overhead. In the twinkling of an eye they ceased to be dots. Theybecame planes! German planes. Heinkels, and Messerschmitt 110's, andStuka dive bombers. Winged messengers of doom howling down upon the roadchoked with wagons and carts, and countless numbers of helplessrefugees.
Even as Dave saw them the leading ships opened fire. Tongues of jettingred flame spat downward, and the savage yammer of the aerial machineguns echoed above the blood chilling thunder of the engines. Tearing hiseyes from that horrible sight Dave glanced back at the road. It wasstill filled with frantic men, women, and children, and at the spotdirectly under the diving planes bullets were cutting down human livesas swiftly as a keen edged scythe cuts down wheat.
His feet rooted to the ground, Dave stared in horror. Then suddenly oneof the diving Stukas released its deadly bomb. The bomb struck theground no more than twenty feet from the edge of the road. Red, orange,and yellow flame shot high into the air. A billowing cloud of smokefilled with dirt, and dust, and stones fountained upward. Then a mightyroar akin to the sound of worlds colliding seemed to hammer straightinto his face. The next thing he realized he was flat on his back on theground gasping and panting for air while from every direction came thescreams of the wounded and the dying.
The screams seemed to release a hidden spring inside of him and make itpossible for him to set himself into action. He scrambled to his feet,stared wild eyed up at the diving planes and shook his fist in whiteheat anger.
"You'll pay for this!" he shouted. "You'll pay for this if it takes theAllies a thousand years. And I'll do my share in helping them too!"
As the last left his lips he suddenly saw an old woman, almost boweddown by bundles, trying feebly to get away from the road and out fromunder the roaring armada of diving death. She took a few faltering stepsand then stumbled to her knees. One withered hand was stretched out inmute appeal to the others to help her up, but no one paused to give heraid. Stark fear had them all in its grasp and none could be botheredabout the misfortunes of the other.
The old woman was only one in thousands and thousands, but Dave hadwitnessed her sad plight and so his movements were instinctive. Heleaped forward and went dashing to her side. With one hand he grabbedher bundles and the other hand he put under her arm.
"I'll help you, Madam," he said. "Just lean on me. I'll get you to asafe place. Don't worry."
He had spoken in English and of course the old woman didn't understandhis words. She understood his actions, however, and there was deepgratitude in the lined and tired face she turned toward him.
"_Merci, Monsieur, merci_," she whispered and started forward leaningheavily on Dave's arm.
And then down out of the blue it came! Dave heard the eerie sound abovethe general din but of course he didn't see the dropping bomb. He didn'teven taken the time to glance upward. He simply acted quickly. Hegrabbed the old woman about the waist and hauled her to the scantyprotection of a standing wagon. There he pushed her down and bent overher so that his body served as partial protection against what he knewwas coming.
It came! A terrific crash of sound that seemed to split the very earthwide open. Every bone in Dave's body seemed to turn to jelly. The entireuniverse became one huge ocean of flashing light and fire. The groundrocked and trembled under his feet. Unseen hands seemed to grab hold ofhim and lift him straight upward to hover motionless in a cloud oflicking tongues of colored flame. Then suddenly all became as dark asthe night, and as silent as a tomb, and he knew no more.
Dave Dawson at Dunkirk Page 2