To Earth and Back

by William Boardman

  Adie nodded. “Yes, I understand. I have considered this.”

  “Then enough said about that.”

  “I have one last thing, too,” Adie said hesitantly. “The pistol you gave me...I don’t think I can—”

  “Kill?” Raul interrupted, speaking English. “Think like this…. Poison snake in house. Baby in room, playing on floor. You have gun. What you do?”

  “I see,” Adie said.

  “Now think of enemy like poison snake. Rifle is fang; bullets—poison. Your friends in danger—what you do...? Think of this many times. If trouble comes, you can kill.”

  Adie gave a subtle nod. “Thank you, Raul.”

  Following a brief silence, the colonel said, “If that’s everything, let’s get some sleep. We start at daybreak.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “Next morning,” said Ari, “Commander Bursik, Viktor, and a dozen others gathered outside the cave for an emotional send-off. After the farewell, a sentry saw them safely to the unit’s boundary, about three miles away. That first week in October was unseasonably warm, so they dressed light and tied their heavy clothes on top of their packs.

  “Raul set a goal of ten miles each day. Some days they traveled less, depending on terrain and enemy activity; other days they moved more freely, occasionally covering up to fifteen miles. They spent many nights on their own, wherever they could find shelter. If nothing was available, they just veered off into the woods and built a lean-to out of pine branches. But more often than not, partisan units or sympathetic families took them in, offering shelter, food, and sometimes an escort for the trail. Northern Italy, in particular, had a large population of freedom fighters. For Col. Bogie, I think it seemed like they were playing a giant game of tag, as one partisan group passed them off to the next.”

  “Any run-ins with the Germans?” Merrick asked.

  Ari smiled. “Probably unrealistic to think they could walk a seven-hundred mile trail without an adventure or two. But we’d be here for days watching them all, so I thought I would just give you a general idea of how things went and show you a few key events, if that’s all right.”

  Merrick agreed, and Ari went on.

  “So, as I hinted, they did dodge a few German patrols during the first weeks, but actually, physical exhaustion and finding food were the biggest challenges. At times, they paid for supplies. Other times, they resorted to petty theft. But once they crossed into Italy, partisan support improved, including the added benefit of an armed escort between camps. They were nearly two-thirds of the way to France when this happened.”

  > > >

  It was mid-day, and a partisan camp lay a little over a mile ahead. As they made a turn and started across an overgrown meadow, a single shot rang out. The bullet cut through the air and ricocheted off a rock ten yards away. All three ducked down in the tall grass.

  Colonel Bogie looked at Raul. “German?”

  “Not German,” Raul said, “touchy partisan—they worry. Stand up slowly; raise weapon high. Walk forward.”

  As they neared the other side of the clearing, a partisan stepped from behind a tree and met them on the trail.

  Raul addressed the man in Italian and translated for the other two. “Didn’t you hear we were coming?” he asked.

  “We were aware; just bad timing,” the partisan said. “A German patrol probed our lines not far from here. We captured four. Our people brought them through a few minutes ago.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder. “I will escort you in.”

  # # # Thirty Minutes Later > > >

  The unit commander was a flamboyant man in his late-forties. He wore a khaki uniform with a matching billed cap and walked with a swagger. “Well, what is this...all these visitors today?” Four German prisoners, hands tied behind their backs, knelt on the ground beside him. “We were surprised to hear of your return, and so soon,” he said to Raul. “What happened?”

  “Russians crossed the Czech border,” Raul said, “heading west. I had to get these two out before they showed up.”

  “How very interesting, and who would they be?” the commander asked, eyeing the colonel and Adie.

  “This is Col. Bogie, an American pilot, and the young lady’s name is Adie, a fellow partisan.”

  “And why is she with you?”

  Raul’s expression was incredulous. “You know what Russian soldiers are like.”

  The commander’s eyes opened wide. “Ah, yes, yes; of course,” he laughed, looking down at the men beside him. “Well, you have arrived just in time for target practice.”

  Raul translated, and Adie swallowed hard, now noticeably uncomfortable. She stared at the prisoners from behind, slowly maneuvering around for a better look. Suddenly she stopped, stunned by what she saw. The German soldier closest to her was scarcely more than a boy.

  “Maybe one of you would like the honor of shooting one of these pigs. There’s a nice lieutenant here. Maybe the colonel would like to try his hand... And what do you have to say about that, Herr Lieutenant?” the commander taunted.

  To everyone’s surprise, the lieutenant spoke up—and in Italian. “Do what you will with us, just spare the boy. He is innocent.”

  His curiosity piqued, the commander said, “But he wears the German uniform! How can he be innocent?”

  “He’s not a combatant,” the lieutenant said. “We bullied him into coming. He’s just an officers’ aide, a good boy...not a soldier. Please, please...do not shoot the boy.”

  “And how are we supposed to feed him, huh?” the commander demanded, jerking the lieutenant’s head up.

  A tear ran down the lieutenant’s cheek. “Please, do not shoot the boy.”

  By now, even Raul was looking uncomfortable.

  Adie tugged on Colonel Bogie’s sleeve, and they stepped back a few paces. Her voice was full of dread. “He is just a boy; younger than me. Look at him. Do you think he could kill anyone? All I see is a sweet boy, just like my brothers. How could we live with ourselves if we stand by and just do nothing...? We should take him with us.”

  “And what do you propose?” the colonel asked, feeling uncharacteristically powerless.

  “Maybe the commander will take a bribe. I have a diamond my mother gave me. Maybe he’ll take that.”

  Raul glanced over at the colonel and Adie. He excused himself and joined their conversation as the partisan commander continued to chide the prisoners.

  Colonel Bogie spoke in almost a whisper. “Raul, I know you are going to disapprove, but we want to take the boy with us. I think we can make this work, but we need you to agree—and we need some help from the commander. What are your thoughts?”

  Raul delayed briefly. “I look at boy. He is no killer, just boy—same as my boy.”

  “Listen,” the colonel said, “Adie says she has a diamond that her mother gave her. Do you think he will take a bribe?”

  “Is possible.”

  “Okay, then here’s what we’ll do: You get his attention—I’ll talk, and you translate.” He turned to Adie. “When I give you the nod, bring your rucksack, and dig out the diamond. I want him to understand it’s the only gem we have.”

  Raul motioned to the commander, who left the prisoners with the guards and joined them.

  Colonel Bogie made the offer in the most eloquent words he could manage. “Commander, we understand how you feel about the Germans. I think we all feel the same way. But clearly this boy is no threat to anyone. And we know that you can’t just keep him here in the camp, nor can you let him go and risk giving away your location. I am sure you are a good man, and if there were any way to spare this boy’s life, you would do so. Therefore, we would like to make a proposal—let us take the boy with us. When we reach the American lines, we will turn him over as a prisoner of war—and for your favorable consideration, we would like to offer you a gift.”

  Colonel Bogie motioned to Adie, who brought her pack, rummaged through, and came up with a pocket-sized tin. Inside was a flask of her mother’s perfume a
nd a small, tightly folded envelope containing a single, loose diamond.

  She spoke in English, and Raul translated. “My mother gave me this diamond a few days before she was arrested and killed by the Germans. It is yours; only please let us take the boy.”

  The commander reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small signal mirror. Then, grasping the stone tightly, he ran it across the glass, leaving a noticeable scratch. He held it up in the light. “Beautiful…, a fine stone, I think. I will speak with my men.”

  “And Commander, before you go,” Colonel Bogie continued, “if you are willing to release him into our custody, he will need some other clothes, if you have any to spare.”

  The commander smiled and walked off into the woods.

  # # # Ten Minutes Later > > >

  “Take him! Take him!” the commander yelled as he walked through the treeline. “He’s yours.”

  “And the clothes?” the colonel asked.

  “Yes, yes, they are coming. A boy his age died here a month ago. Those clothes should fit.”

  “We are grateful,” the colonel said, pulling the tattered scarf from around his neck. “And we will blindfold the boy until we stop for the night.”

  “A good point, Colonel—most important,” the commander said.

  “Listen, would you mind if I spoke with the lieutenant for a moment?”

  “Of course; be my guest. Let him enjoy his last conversation.”

  While Adie remained with the gear, Colonel Bogie moved forward and crouched before the young officer, asking Raul to translate. “Lieutenant, we have persuaded this commander to allow the boy to come with us. We will take him to the American lines and turn him over as a prisoner of war. They will treat him well. I give you my word. Now you are an officer, and he is your subordinate. I am asking that you formally order him to submit to my authority for the duration of our journey and until we can drop him off at an internment center.”

  The lieutenant appeared relieved. “I see, Heir Colonel, that you are a man of honor. God bless you for what you have done this day.” He turned to the boy and sternly delivered the order. The boy promised, on his honor, to obey. “Now you will say this to the colonel.”

  The boy repeated the oath with sincerity as Raul translated.

  Colonel Bogie smiled and helped the boy to his feet, asking him to close his eyes as he applied the blindfold.

  Unexpectedly, Adie approached and knelt in front of the three remaining prisoners. Raul glanced at Adie, then looked at the colonel and shrugged. Her face was calm, yet she struggled to get the words out. “Gentlemen,” she said in an unsteady voice. All three men listened attentively. “I am a Jew—a German Jew. Not long ago, two of your fellow soldiers broke into my family’s apartment. One of them hit me with his rifle and blinded my eye. Then they wrongfully arrested my parents and without formal charges or trial, executed them the next day. They were completely innocent.” Adie paused for a moment, as if wresting something from deep within. Her lips quivered as she spoke. “I want you to know...I forgive you and all of the other soldiers who hurt me and my family.” A tear made its way down her cheek. “I forgive you.” She moved and expressed forgiveness to each man in turn. Shame registered on their faces.

  Curious, Colonel Bogie asked Raul to translate.

  “She says, she forgives.”

  A partisan guard walked up with clothes for the boy, and Adie stood to receive them.

  “We should leave now,” the colonel said to Raul. “The boy can change on the trail. See if the commander will hold off on dealing with these men until we are well away...for Adie’s sake...and for the boy.”

  Raul’s request received a nod from the commander, and after a cordial handshake, they departed. The guard who brought them into the camp volunteered to be their escort.

  Adie quickly stuffed what she could of the civilian clothes into her rucksack and carried the rest, picking up her pace to catch the others. As the camp receded behind them, she took the boy’s hand from the colonel and dropped back a few paces. “You are safe with us now,” she said softly in German. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  The colonel overheard and motioned for Adie’s attention. “No German on the trail, young lady—folks might get the wrong idea.”

  # # # Five Hours Later > > >

  “Looks like a pretty decent spot,” Colonel Bogie said. “We should be far enough off the trail here.” He set his backpack at the base of a massive rock formation and carefully scanned the surrounding forest. “Raul, it looks like maybe an hour before sunset. Why don’t you work on a lean-to while Adie and I tend to the boy?”

  Raul nodded and unlashed his hatchet.

  After receiving the colonel’s permission to speak in German, Adie released the boy’s hand. “I think it’s time to remove that blindfold,” she said, untying the knot.

  The boy squinted at the sun which was streaming through the trees and diverted his gaze downward to the dark pine needles at his feet.

  Colonel Bogie watched with great interest. “You okay there, little man?”

  The boy slowly turned and looked up at Adie, then shied away with a bashful expression.

  “What is it?” Adie asked, puzzled. “Did I do something wrong?” She looked at Colonel Bogie and shrugged, then back at the boy. “What is it?”

  With his eyes still averted, the boy quietly said, “You’re pretty.”

  Adie looked at the colonel, amazed. “Well, for Heaven’s sake. My hair’s a mess. I’m wearing this horrid eye patch. I haven’t had a proper bath in I don’t know how long, and this boy thinks I’m pretty.” She put her arm around him and pulled him to her side. “I like him already!”

  The colonel smiled and addressed the boy. Adie translated. “You have nothing to fear,” he said in a calm voice. “My name is Col. Bogie, and this beautiful young lady, as you most accurately described her, is Miss Adie Behr. The other man over there—that’s Raul. Now, why don’t you tell us your name?”

  After a moment the boy responded in a subdued voice. “I am Peter; Peter Kuntz.”

  The colonel extended his hand. “Well, Peter, it’s nice to know you. Can we call you Pete?”

  With a half nod, the boy said, “Yes, others calls me this.”

  Raul approached, arms full of pine branches.

  “So, Pete,” the colonel continued, “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I’m a bomber pilot. Some time ago, I was shot down, and I’m trying to get back to the Allied lines. Adie here, well, you probably heard her story back at the partisan camp. Now Raul, he’s a Spanish partisan and our guide.” The colonel paused and the boy looked up. “So now that you know who we are, what can you tell us about you and your family?”

  A sad expression formed on the boy’s face. “My parents are dead.”

  “How?” the colonel asked.

  “A bombing raid. I was in school.”

  “What about brothers and sisters?”

  The boy appeared lost in thought. “No, only me.”

  “And how did you come to be in the army?”

  “My uncle couldn’t take me. And so....”

  The colonel paused, sensing the boy’s grief. “Well, we’re sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Everyone here has lost friends or loved ones in this war, and I, for one, don’t want to see one more friend die. So what do you say we get you out of that uniform? You won’t live long walking these trails looking like that.”

  The boy absorbed the colonel’s words and began to smile.

  “Why the smile?” the colonel asked.

  “You call me your friend.”

  Colonel Bogie ruffled the boy’s hair. “A very perceptive boy—an intelligent boy.”

  While Adie gathered Pete’s change of clothes, the colonel walked over to speak with Raul. “Say, old boy, would you mind taking Pete over into those trees so he can change?”

  Raul gave a nod and embedded his hatchet in a nearby stump.

  “And let’s bury his
uniform,” the colonel added.

  # # # Fifteen Minutes Later > > >

  Raul returned with Pete and resumed work on the lean-to.

  “There you go,” Adie said, looking at Pete and smiling. “Now you look like a human being.”

  “Listen,” the colonel said, “why don’t we sit down and go over a few things before it gets dark?”

  They walked over to a fallen tree not far from Raul. Adie translated.

  “Pete, today has been a difficult day,” Colonel Bogie said. “You’ve had a lot to deal with, and that causes me some concern. I need to know what you’re thinking—how you feel about us...other than the obvious fact that we are enemies. Do you hate me for being a bomber pilot, or Adie, because she’s a Jew? And how about Raul?”

  Clearly bewildered by the question, Pete stared at the ground and slowly shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense,” he murmured. “Everything they told me...nothing makes sense.”

  Relieved that the boy was opening up, Colonel Bogie said, “What did they tell you, Pete? What doesn’t make sense?”

  “They said Americans were stupid. They kill little babies. They said Jews are not human—that they hate Germans; just want to suck the life out of Germany.”

  The colonel thought for a moment. “Well, Pete, let me ask you this. Back at that camp, do you know what the partisans were planning to do?”

  With a downcast expression, Pete said, “They were going to shoot us.”

  “And do you know whose idea it was to save you from that?”

  Pete glanced up at the colonel. “You talked to them. It must be you.”

  The colonel smiled calmly, and said, “Pete, I’m going to tell you a little story. A couple of months ago someone saved my life, and I’ll never forget it.” He unzipped his flight suit and exposed his shoulder. “There was a good sized piece of shrapnel sticking out of that wound. Fortunately, a young medic came by and took care of me...and that young medic who saved my life is the same one who saved yours. She’s sitting right next to you.”