The Hesitant Hero

by Gilbert, Morris

  “That’s what our fighter planes are for. They will escort them over, of course.”

  Breit turned and crossed his arms and smiled pityingly at the major. “And how far, Major, do you suppose our Me-109s go without refueling?”

  “Why, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  “I can tell you. They can fly to England, and they will have exactly ten minutes of fighting time, and that will leave them enough gas only to get back to France if they don’t have any trouble. Ten minutes! That’s all they’ll have and then the bombers will be on their own. But that’s not the big problem.”

  “Well, what is the big problem, if I may ask?”

  “How would you transport your army across the Channel?” The captain’s eyes were filled with contempt as he asked the question. He had asked it of others, even generals, and discovered that none of them had the answer.

  “Why, in ships, of course.”

  “I hope you have the ships up your sleeve, Major, because the navy doesn’t have them.”

  Dietrich stared at Breit. “But I see ships all the time! The Channel is full of them. You have many ships.”

  “We have a few destroyers. Not enough. What will happen when these destroyers meet the battleships and cruisers of the British navy? It seems to be a fact generally overlooked at headquarters that the British have the finest navy in the world. If we start across the Channel with a group of destroyers, we won’t last ten minutes. They’ll blast us out of the water!”

  Breit stood and strode to the window. “And as for transports, we have none. We have never been permitted to build up what it takes to make an invasion by sea.” Anger swept across Breit’s face and he started pacing the floor. “I understand they propose to take your army across in flat-bottom boats. What will happen when you’re midway across the Channel and a storm strikes or when one cruiser gets in the midst of that flotilla? Would you like to be in one of those ships down to the gunnels in a rough sea with a cruiser bearing down on you with all guns blazing?”

  Major Dietrich stared at the captain and said stiffly, “I’m sure you have a point here, Captain, but I don’t see what it is.”

  “My point is that we will not be able to invade England. We have no means to destroy her navy. We do not have the ships to make an invasion, and I am not at all certain that the Luftwaffe can win the battle for Britain in the air.”

  These sailors are dense fellows indeed, Dietrich thought. He kept his voice on a pleasant tone. “It will be interesting to see who is right about this. But I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

  “What sort of favor, Major?” He stopped by the window again.

  “I’m convinced there will be an attempt to escape from France in a small boat to cross over to England.”

  “It would not be the first time. We usually manage to catch such fellows.”

  “I would appreciate it very much if you would put every available ship in the area around Honfleur.”

  “What makes you think there will be such an attempt?”

  “We’ve heard from informants.”

  Breit shrugged his shoulders. He turned to look out the window. “Look at that sea, Major.” He waited until Dietrich came to stand beside him. “There will be no small boats leaving France until this storm blows over.”

  “Perhaps, but these are desperate people. I would like to ask that a sharp lookout be kept.”

  “Very well, Major, if that is what you wish. Even our own small ships won’t go out in this weather, but I’ll have my destroyers keep a close watch.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I very much appreciate it.” Dietrich picked up his hat, settled it firmly on his head, and left the office.

  As soon as Dietrich left, a lieutenant came in. “Can you guess what the major wanted, Hauptmann?”

  “Who knows what a soldier thinks,” the man said with a grin. He understood his captain’s contempt for any service other than the navy.

  “You’re right. These landsmen. Why don’t they leave sea duty to men who know what they’re doing?”

  Hauptmann grinned broadly, enjoying the captain’s disgust. “They don’t know much for a fact, sir.”

  “Well, he’s convinced that there will be an attempt to escape from France in a small boat. Have the captains on patrol for the next few days keep a sharp lookout.”

  “Nobody will be crossing in this weather.”

  “I know that, but the major doesn’t. But at least this way I’ll be able to tell him that we cooperated to the extent of our ability.” He stared out at the sea that was now moaning and crashing upon the beach with a grim ferocity. “Invade England? In what?” he snapped. “Rowboats?” He brought his fist down on the window ledge with a crashing blow and forgot at once about the major.

  ****

  Arnaud Heuse stared up at the sky with considerable aggravation. He turned his gaze to his boat, which was bobbing up and down like a ball on the waves that crashed into the shore. He moved to get a better view of the sea. “I tell you, Jean, you’re crazy. You’ll never get across in this kind of weather.”

  Jean clapped his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders. The two had become very close after years at sea together. They were co-owners of Leota and fished together practically every day. “What’s life without adventure, Arnaud?”

  “It’s staying alive. That’s what it is.”

  “I suppose I’m crazy, but I’ve got to get these people across.”

  Heuse laughed. “Well, I’m crazy too. I’ll go with you. You’ll never make it without me.”

  “Did you talk to Pascal and Garland? Will they go with us?”

  “Oh yes, they think it’s all very romantic. They’re just young and crazy enough to go along with your scheme. Now, tell me again about this insanity.”

  “I’ll leave in time to get the party here by midnight. You and the rest of the fellows will have Leota all ready to go. Be sure you have enough gas.” His features grew intent as he continued. “Be ready to go the instant we get here.”

  “You’re taking the truck?”

  “Yes. I’ll load everybody in the back and then surround them with the empty barrels and put a tarp over them.”

  “If you get stopped, the Germans will find them.”

  “I’ll just have to be careful not to get stopped. I don’t expect to find many Germans out in the storm. There’s a back road that leads to Annette’s place.”

  “The destroyers will be out once we get them to the boat. This storm won’t bother them. If they see us, it’s all over.”

  Clermont looked up into the darkening sky. “It will be very dark tonight with the thick cloud cover. They won’t see us.”

  “All right. We’ll be ready. You know, it might not be a bad idea just to stay in England until this war blows over.”

  “It’s not going to blow over, Arnaud. It’s going to be a long, hard fight. I’ve got a feeling all of us will be involved in it before it’s over.”

  ****

  Rochelle looked over at Antoine. The two of them were sitting in the kitchen of the small cottage. Rochelle was, for once, not holding Marie. “Why are you so quiet? Are you afraid?”

  “I told you once I’m not afraid of anything.”

  Rochelle shook her head. “Everybody’s afraid of something.”

  Antoine’s mouth was twisted in a strange, wretched grin. “Well, it was a lie. I’m scared of the sea.”

  “How come?” she asked. “I’ve never even been on it, but I’m not afraid of it.”

  “You don’t have a grandmother like mine.”

  “What does your grandmother have to do with it?”

  “She told me once to beware of the sea.”

  Rochelle turned her head to one side. The wind was whistling outside, moaning like a huge beast, and rain was pounding down on the roof. “Is she a fortune-teller? You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”

  Antoine looked down at his hands. “Sometimes I do—like now. She sometimes got things right.”
>
  “Well, we’ve all got to die sometime.”

  He laughed. “Well, that makes me feel better! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Rochelle was instantly sorry. “I didn’t mean to say that. We’re going to be all right.”

  “Now you’re telling the fortune.”

  “No. It’s really going to be all right. We’re going to get to England and you’ll join your parents, and someday you’ll be a famous doctor.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “Then I’ll get sick and you’ll get me all well. Then you’ll fall in love with me, but I’ll already have a fiancé. . . .”

  Antoine laughed and reached out and squeezed her hand. “That’s about as crazy as anything I ever heard in my life, but keep on with your fairy tales. It’s better than thinking about being in a boat and going out on the ocean.”

  * * *

  Tyler and Jolie had been conversing quietly in the living room. Damien and Yolande were asleep, and Annette was rocking Marie in one of the bedrooms. The adults had talked their plans over until both of them had absolutely nothing new to say.

  Tyler saw that Jolie had circles under her eyes. She had slept little for the past two days. The Germans had come up and down the main road. They had questioned the Fortiers again, but the couple had been able to keep up their appearance of ignorance.

  “You’re worried about the way things are going, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “I’m worried about Marie.”

  “What’s the matter with her?”

  “She just has some sniffles. I think it’s only minor, but who knows what we’re getting into? I can’t believe a ship would go out in a storm like this. Jean may have changed his mind.”

  “I don’t think so. He seemed determined to do this for us. By the way, you were going to tell me how you were going to reward him for getting us out of here.”

  Despite her fatigue and anxiety, Jolie smiled. “Once, when we were out on a picnic, he tried to kiss me, and I broke a bottle over his head. It was bleeding all over the place. I thought I’d killed him. It scared me to death!”

  “I’ll have to be careful,” Tyler said with a grin. “I didn’t know you were so violent.”

  She jabbed his arm playfully. “Anyway, he didn’t get his kiss, so when I begged him to help us and he agreed, he said he’d have to have that kiss that he missed. Just a foolish game. I think we were both about sixteen—no, I was just fifteen.”

  Tyler reached up and touched the bandage on his head. “This itches,” he said.

  “Well, leave it alone. Don’t be scratching at it.” She reached up and pulled his hand down. “You’ll just make it worse if you keep clawing at it like that.”

  Tyler studied her by the flickering light of the lamp. The amber light threw her eyes into darker shadows, and he could see the lines of fatigue along with fear on her features. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this. Why don’t you keep Marie here with you? Then after I get clear—”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “What! What does that mean?”

  “You heard me. I’m going with you.”

  “When did you decide all this? Going with us, I mean.”

  “It’s been on my mind since a few days into our journey.” It had been just a vague notion at first, but it had grown, and now as she sat across from Tyler, she said firmly, “I’ve got to go with you.”

  “But what about your mother? She must be worried sick. You were only going to be gone one night.”

  “I’ve written her a letter telling her I’m going with you. Annette mailed it for me.”

  Tyler could not take it all in. “I don’t know what to say.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’m glad you’re going. I’d hate to leave you here.”

  She dropped her eyes and then Annette suddenly entered the room, holding Marie in her arms. She spoke almost harshly. “You can’t take Marie out into this storm.”

  Jolie and Tyler exchanged glances. “But what else can we do?”

  Tyler and Jolie had both noticed before that Annette always looked a little sad, and they had wondered if she had endured a tragedy of some sort. “My husband and I love each other very much, but we haven’t been able to have children.”

  She stopped for a moment, and the wind seemed to be creeping around the house like a beast trying to get in. It moaned and keened and seemed to claw at the windows. Annette paid no attention to it. “We want children more than anything, but so far, no success.” She looked down into the face of the sleeping infant. “But now this one has come. I want to keep her, and I know my husband will be happy with my decision when he comes home. We may never bear children of our own, but we will have Marie. Please leave her with me.”

  “But, Annette, are you certain that’s what you want?” Jolie asked. “It’s not something to do lightly.”

  “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I have prayed since I was married for a child. I believe that God has sent this little one to me.”

  Jolie felt tears come into her eyes. She had seen the care that Annette lavished on the baby, and now she turned to Tyler. “What do you think?”

  “I think Annette will be very good to her. We couldn’t do better than to leave her with you.”

  Annette gave a short intake of breath, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I will be a good mother to her. I promise.”

  “It will be best if you keep her, then.” Jolie got up and went over to put her arm around Annette. “I think you’re right that God is in this. He brought us to your house and little Marie to the one person in the world who will give her a mother’s love.”

  Annette turned with the baby and walked away, unable to contain her sobs of joy.

  As soon as she disappeared, Tyler took a deep breath. “I really believe this is of God. It would have been criminal to take that child out in weather like this.”

  “Yes. If He sees the sparrows fall, He can surely put a motherless child into the arms of a childless woman.”

  ****

  The children, and especially Rochelle, took it hard about leaving Marie. Jolie had taken her off to one side and explained the situation. Rochelle had begun to cry, but Jolie had explained patiently how good it was that Marie would have a mother and a father one day. She also explained how dangerous the crossing would be. “What would you think if we took her with us and she got sick and died because of what happened? Neither of us would ever forgive ourselves.”

  She had spoken quietly and comfortingly to Rochelle, and the girl had finally sniffled and wiped her face. “Yes, you’re right. She’ll have a good mother.”

  “That’s right. She’ll have a home and parents.”

  The other children had been less emotional, and by the time Jean pulled up in the truck, they were saying good-bye to her. As each one came to give Marie a kiss, Annette promised, “She will have a good home.”

  They said good-bye to the Fortiers, who had come to the cottage to spend the last couple of hours with the group. When they went outside, they found the rain had weakened to a drizzle.

  “Get up between the barrels, and then I’ll put a tarp over you and the barrels. No matter what happens,” Jean said sternly, “don’t make a sound.”

  “That will be easier now that Marie’s not here,” Jolie said.

  The group huddled together as Jean drew the canvas over them. Rochelle was sitting next to Antoine, and she leaned over in the darkness and groped for his hand. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered.

  He held on to her hand tightly. His eyes were closed despite the fact that he could not have seen even if they were open. All he could think of was his grandmother telling him to stay away from the sea.

  Jolie was holding Yolande on her lap. Yolande pulled Jolie’s head down and whispered, “Are you afraid?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” Yolande whispered. “Jesus can walk on water. He won’t let us drown!”

  “Ar
e you sure about that?”

  “Yes. You told us about it.”

  “You’re right. I’m glad you’re not afraid.”

  Yolande was quiet for a while, and then she drew Jolie’s head down again to whisper in her ear. “I am afraid, a little bit. Is that bad?”

  “No, sweetheart, it’s not bad at all.” She hugged the child and wondered what would happen. In all truth she was very afraid, but there was no turning back now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Despair

  Staring down into his glass of brandy, Major Dietrich was aware that his senses were numbed. Ordinarily he was not a drinking man, but ever since his nephew had been killed—murdered, actually—he had been drinking steadily. He downed the burning liquid and set the glass on his desk, aware that the sound seemed dull and softened by the alcoholic haze that surrounded him. Dietrich despised drunks, and since he rarely drank, the brandy had gone to his head much more readily than he had anticipated.

  Outside, the wind moaned, reminding Dietrich of something he could not quite place. The sound was eerie, at times rising to a high-pitched keening, like the scream of a banshee, although he did not actually know what a banshee would sound like. Other times it would drop down and moan, like a voice coming up out of the earth and roaming the land seeking a victim to devour.

  Looking down, he saw the letter he had written to his sister. It was intended to comfort her on the loss of her son, but it had degenerated into a rage that had found its way onto the page. He wadded up the letter and threw it across the room. It struck the wall and fell to the floor. Dietrich stared at it and then poured more brandy into the glass.

  Finally he rose and walked over to the window and stared out. The darkness was complete. The storm had brought with it shreds of fog, which seemed to drape over the buildings built close to the shore. A tiny flicker of lightning lit up the sky far off to the north, and he remembered Captain Breit’s words: “Not even our own ships will be going out. A small boat would have no chance at all.”

  For a long time Dietrich stood there, and then his immobility became insufferable. He was a man of action and could not bear to be still while there was work to be done. He drank the rest of the brandy and walked over to the coatrack. He pulled his raincoat off, calling at the same time, “Scharmann—Scharmann!”