The Sisters of St. Croix

by Diney Costeloe

  Mother Marie-Pierre drew in a sharp breath when she saw them and the state to which they had been reduced. The Auclons had been in hiding too long. They were half-starved, having given most of any food they’d obtained to their children. Their eyes had sunk into faces that were gaunt and grey. They were dirty, their hair matted, their bodies malodorous and foul, their clothes in rags, and Adelaide and Sarah had to get them clean enough to pass unnoticed in broad daylight.

  “Adèle, quickly, fetch hot water from the stove.”

  Adelaide nodded and ran back up to the kitchen and drew off some water from the large cauldron that stood, ever ready, on the back of the range. She returned to the cellar to find Mother Marie-Pierre handing out food that she brought down with her. When Adelaide returned with a second bowl of water, Joseph retired to the far corner, and, with a razor Mother Marie-Pierre had brought from the hospital, attacked the full beard that he now had, cutting it back ruthlessly with a pair of scissors before finally shaving it away. Adelaide passed over the cassock she had brought, and leaving him to get cleaned up as best he could, she and Mother Marie-Pierre set about turning Janine Auclon into a nun. It all took time. Too much time, Adelaide thought, as she fetched yet more hot water for Janine to scrub away the grime. It’s taking too long, far too long. Adelaide looked anxiously at her watch as she helped cut Janine’s hair short enough to fit under the wimple, muttering, “We should be out of here by now.”

  “Is there soup in the pantry?” Mother Marie-Pierre asked softly, and Adelaide nodded. “Yes, usually.”

  “Then go and heat some up. We have to get something warm inside them.”

  Adelaide found the soup, and having heated it brought it down to the cellar in two large cups. The Auclons had made some progress, and she found Joseph now clean-shaven, his hair cut short above his ears, dressed in his cassock. It was too short for him, and his feet poked out from the bottom, displaying his bony ankles and worn leather shoes.

  But at least his shoes are black, Adelaide thought as she handed him the cup.

  Janine was wearing the habit, and the wimple fitted closely round her head and face. She too grasped the cup of soup in her hand and began to drink it down greedily.

  Suddenly they heard footsteps coming down the cellar steps. They all froze, knowing there was nothing they could do to escape. Sister Marie-Marc appeared.

  “What is it, Sister?” Mother Marie-Pierre said sharply.

  “You were so long,” Sister Marie-Marc said. “I was worried something had gone wrong.”

  “Nothing’s gone wrong,” snapped her superior. “Go back upstairs and keep watch.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Sister Marie-Marc disappeared into the darkness, and Reverend Mother turned her attention to Janine’s hood. She had just put it on when there were more footsteps, running this time, and Mother Marie-Marc reappeared in the cellar, her eyes wide.

  “Mother,” she cried, “Germans. All creeping up round the convent. I saw them from the landing window. All round the house.”

  Adelaide looked at Reverend Mother. “I must have been followed.”

  “Never mind that now,” the nun replied. “Let’s think.”

  She stood for a moment, her eyes squeezed closed and then turned to the terrified Auclons. “Come with me. You, Sister Marie-Marc, go back to bed. Adèle, out through the grating.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Adelaide.

  “To the chapel,” replied her aunt. “It’s our only hope. Now go, both of you.”

  Sister Marie-Marc obediently scuttled up the stairs, and Adelaide watched as Mother Marie-Pierre grabbed the dazed couple by the hands and hurried them up into the convent building.

  “Go,” she said over her shoulder to her niece. “I’ll look after them.”

  Adelaide scrambled up the ladder to the grating, and listening hard heard nothing from the outside. Cautiously she lifted the grille enough to see out, and immediately ducked down again. Standing only a few yards away, his rifle trained on the courtyard gate, stood a German soldier. He didn’t appear to have seen the hidden grating, he was concentrating on the gate. Adelaide lowered herself back into the cellar and looked up at her escape route, now effectively blocked. The soldier hadn’t seen her, but there was no way she could get past him. If she went that way she’d have to kill him, and although she hadn’t seen any others, he wouldn’t be alone. No, there was no escape that way, she’d have to go back through the convent. Quietly she closed the door of the hiding place and stole back up to the kitchen, shutting the cellar door behind her. She didn’t lock it. That would be pointless, a locked door wasn’t going to keep them out.

  As she emerged into the kitchen there was a thunderous pounding on the front door, the doorbell pealing and a loud voice shouting. “Open up! Open up!”

  Four minutes, or at the most five since Mother Marie-Pierre had hurried the Auclons away from the cellar. What had she done with them? She’d said the chapel, but Adelaide knew that would be as thoroughly searched as anywhere else. She drew back from the hall, her mind racing as she considered the various places she might hide, and finally ducked into the refectory. There was nowhere to hide in the stark room, so Adelaide left the door ajar and stood behind it to watch the hall through the crack.

  A minute later lights flooded on and Sister Celestine appeared at the head of the stairs, dressed in an old blue dressing gown, a shawl thrown over her head. She stumbled down the stairs to the door, and, as another tattoo commenced on the outside, began to draw back the bolts and the great chain that secured the door for the night.

  The moment she slipped the chain, the door was flung open, and she was knocked backwards as Colonel Hoch strode into the hall, ordering his men to search the building.

  “And bring the reverend mother to me,” he roared, as the soldiers who had flooded in behind him fanned out round the building.

  “Good evening, Colonel.” The voice was quiet and steady. “What is it you want that you disturb us in the middle of the night?”

  The colonel looked round and saw Reverend Mother, standing at the mouth of an inner passage, looking at him, unflinchingly. He strode across the hall.

  “Want? I’ll tell you what I want. I want whoever you are hiding here, that’s what I want.”

  “Hiding?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me, woman,” snarled Hoch. He turned to the men who were at his back, and snapped at them. “Search the place, every cupboard, every corner. Get them all out of bed.” He turned back to Reverend Mother. “Why aren’t you in bed asleep like all the others?”

  “I was in the chapel, keeping watch with Our Lord,” Mother Marie-Pierre replied calmly.

  “In the chapel.” Hoch’s eyes bored into her. “Right, I’ll start there. Show me the way.”

  Mother Marie-Pierre inclined her head graciously, as if she had a choice. “Very well, Colonel. Please follow me.” She turned back down the passage and, with the colonel hard on her heels, led the way through the convent to the chapel. When she reached it, Hoch thrust her aside and flung the door open. The chapel was in darkness except for the flickering candles on the Lady Chapel altar and the red glow of the sanctuary light above the high altar. Hoch turned abruptly. “Turn on the lights,” he ordered, and stepping round him to the switches on the wall Mother Marie-Pierre switched them on. The electric light flooding the chapel seemed harsh after the softer light of the candles, and its brightness revealed one of the sisters, lying face down, cruciform on the floor in front of the altar.

  “What’s she doing?” demanded Hoch.

  “Penance for her sins,” replied Mother Marie-Pierre. “She will remain like that all night in atonement.”

  “She will not,” retorted Hoch. He stepped forward and prodded the prone figure with the toe of his boot. “You, nun, get up.”

  The nun got shakily to her knees and then to her feet, and stood with downcast eyes, her hands folded into her sleeves.

  “What’s your name?” demanded the colonel
.

  The nun did not reply, and the man shouted. “Answer me! Are you deaf?”

  “No, Colonel,” Reverend Mother intervened. “Sister Angelique is under a vow of silence until she has finished her penance. Wait outside the door, Sister,” she added. “The colonel wants to search the chapel.”

  Sister Angelique gave a tiny bob and went out into the corridor.

  The colonel began his search, and when he reached the vestry he gave a cry of satisfaction as the opened door revealed a priest kneeling at a prie-dieu.

  “And who is this, lurking in the vestry? Come out here where I can see you properly. Name?”

  “Father Yves Belvoir,” replied the priest.

  “And what the hell are you doing in a convent chapel in the middle of the night?”

  “Preparing to say Mass for the sisters first thing in the morning,” stammered the priest nervously.

  “Father Yves is a visiting priest,” Mother Marie-Pierre said.

  The colonel stared at the priest for several moments, taking in the short cassock and the worn-out shoes, then he strode to the door of the chapel and called in the two men who were waiting in the passage.

  “Strip this man,” he said, his voice icily calm, “and see if he is a Jew.”

  The men grabbed the priest and without hesitation ripped at the cassock, pulling it open to reveal the threadbare trousers and dirty shirt which were concealed beneath it.

  “Wait!” Hoch’s voice was a whiplash. The two men stepped back and waited. “Not very well dressed for a priest, are you?” Hoch remarked, touching the grubby shirt with a fastidious finger. “Take off your trousers.”

  The priest hesitated and Hoch spoke again, his voice soft and threatening. “Take off your trousers, you snivelling little Jew, and we shall all see the proof of what you are.”

  “Colonel, this is the house of God,” protested Mother Marie-Pierre, and then gasped as she saw that the order was being backed up with the colonel’s pistol.

  “Then we’ll take him out into the hall. We’ll divest him of his clothing in the recreation room. Then all the sisters will see that they’ve been harbouring a filthy Jew.” He turned to his men. “Take his trousers off and bring him to the recreation room. Let’s give them all a thrill.” He laughed and his men laughed with him, as they ripped off not only the tattered trousers, but the ragged underwear underneath, leaving Joseph Auclon standing clad only in his shirt, his genitals clearly visible.

  Mother Marie-Pierre averted her eyes as if to preserve the man’s dignity, but he had none left; his humiliation was complete. Hoch regarded him with contempt and the soldiers sniggered at the pathetic creature they had revealed.

  “This is the man you were hiding,” Hoch said to her. “This scum. Don’t look away, Reverend Mother.” Hoch emphasised the word Reverend. “It’s too late for that. All you nuns shall look at this piece of shit before we take him away, so that you know what a Jew looks like. So that you won’t make the same mistake again. So you won’t mistake a snivelling Jew for a Catholic priest. Follow me.”

  Hoch strode out of the chapel, followed by the men leading Joseph Auclon, naked below the waist, his arms pulled hard behind his back. Stunned, Mother Marie-Pierre followed, unable to do anything else. She had known there was little chance that Joseph and Janine would not be discovered, but she had done her best in the few moments that she’d had. She saw Janine, Sister Angelique, standing in the shadows, and reached for her hand, pulling her gently along behind her. The best place to hide her now was among all the other nuns. They would know she didn’t belong, of course, but Mother Marie-Pierre thought she knew her sisters well enough to be sure that no one would give the woman up to the Germans.

  When they reached the recreation room, they found the nuns already gathered there, rounded up by Hoch’s soldiers. There was an audible gasp as Joseph was led into the room and made to stand on the dais at the front. Almost as one they turned away, covering their eyes, and Mother Marie-Pierre was able to push the terrified Janine into the room beside Sister Marie-Marc.

  “Look after Sister Angelique,” she hissed. Sister Marie-Marc, wide-eyed, nodded and stepped in front of her, so that she was concealed from direct view and became just another nun.

  Hoch looked round the terrified gathering. “Is this all of them?” he demanded of his sergeant.

  “All but one, sir. A bedridden one, who’s off her trolley.”

  “Bring her down. I want her here.” He looked across at Sister Marie-Paul. “You,” he said. “You run the hospital, don’t you?”

  “I am in charge of it, yes,” Sister Marie-Paul replied, “under Reverend Mother of course.”

  “Ah, yes, Reverend Mother. Well, she’s no longer in charge of anything. She will be coming with me.” His eyes roved the frightened faces in the room. “I warned you, all of you, that if I found anyone else hidden in your damned convent I would make an example of two of you. Clearly your reverend mother was well aware that this Jew was hiding in the chapel, dressed in the garb of a priest… a holy priest of God. Where did those clothes come from, I wonder? No doubt Reverend Mother will tell me… in time.” He paused to allow these words to sink in. “And now we have to decide who else will pay for this…”—he gestured to Joseph Auclon who still stood in front of them—”this piece of foolishness. Reverend Mother, you have defied me and have sheltered enemies of the Reich. Another of these nuns must pay the price… so who shall it be?” He walked over to where the novices were cowering together. “One of these young ladies? My men would surely enjoy entertaining one of them. Or this old bag,” he pointed to Sister St Bruno who at that moment arrived carried in by two burly soldiers and was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. “Or what about the one who was doing penance? She could do her penance in prison in Germany. Where is she? What was she called now? Sister Angelique?”

  “But we haven’t got…” Sister Marie-Paul’s exclamation, distinctly heard, died away in the silence.

  “Haven’t you now?” remarked Hoch. “Well, that is interesting. We’ll have a roll call. It appears to me that there are children missing as well. We understood that there was a whole family of Jews to be found. Where are those children I wonder?” He looked across at Mother Marie-Pierre again. “No doubt Reverend Mother will tell us that… in time… as well.” He pointed again to Sister Marie-Paul. “You,” he said, “you seem to have some commonsense. You will point out this unknown Sister Angelique to me… because if you don’t I will send all your novices down to the barracks in Albert and let my men have some fun with them.” The threat hung in the air, and Sister Marie-Paul’s eyes slid round the room, looking at all the sisters gathered there. Sister Marie-Marc stood firmly in front of “Sister Angelique”, but there was no point. Sister Marie-Paul saw her at once. “She’s over there,” she said softly. Hoch followed the line of her gaze, and then pushing Sister Marie-Marc roughly aside grabbed hold of Janine Auclon and dragged her forward.

  “So she is,” he said gently. He ran his eyes up and down her body. “No obvious way to determine if she’s a Jewess,” he said. “Not like with her husband, but we could perhaps have a look anyway.” And he raised his hand to the neck of her habit.

  There was an explosion of rage and Joseph ripped himself free of the hands that still restrained him, flinging himself at Hoch, reaching for the colonel’s throat, his fingers grasping, gripping, gouging, until he was dragged away once more, his arm forced so high behind his back that he screamed in pain. Colonel Hoch, shaken by the sudden attack, quickly recovered his dignity and barked out. “Take them away. I’ll deal with them later.” The soldiers dragged both Auclons out of the room, and Hoch turned to face the nuns once again. Several of them were openly weeping, others were white-faced with fear, no one spoke. Sister Marie-Paul stood erect a little apart from her sisters, across the room from her superior, and Sister St Bruno lay in a heap on the floor at her niece’s feet. Ignoring the colonel, Sarah bent down to her aunt and whispered, “Are you all righ
t?”

  Sister St Bruno nodded. “Just a little bit bruised,” she murmured. “Don’t worry about me, Sarah.”

  Hoch summoned more men and told them to take hold of Mother Marie-Pierre. “And another,” he began.

  “Take me,” cried out Sister St Bruno, “I’ll go.”

  “Shut up, old woman,” snapped the colonel, aiming a kick at her. “No one would take you anywhere.”

  “I’ll go,” said a voice behind him, and Sister Marie-Marc stepped forward. “If you are determined to arrest two of us, I’ll go. I knew they were here.”

  Hoch gave a contemptuous laugh. “You’ll do. Take them away.”

  Two soldiers grasped the two nuns by the arms and unceremoniously hustled them from the room. As she was forced out into the hall, Sarah heard her aunt cry out, “Courage, Sarah, God is with you. Evil shall not prevail!” She began to chant, “‘Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me…’.”

  Some of the other sisters began to murmur the psalm with her, and Hoch, who was following them out of the recreation room, turned back to where Sister St Bruno still lay crumpled on the floor.

  “I told you to shut up,” he growled, and with great deliberation he kicked at her head. His jackboot connected with her skull with a sickening crack. The murmuring of the psalm ceased abruptly as, without even glancing down, he turned and once again strode from the room.

  Hoch deposited all his prisoners in the cells at the gendarmerie, where Mother Marie-Pierre had visited Sister Eloise before she was taken away. The nuns were put in a cell together, but they had no sight of the Auclons.

  “What will happen to us now?” asked Sister Marie-Marc fearfully.

  “We shall be questioned, I expect. They’ll want to know where the children are.”

  “Do you know?”

  “No.” Reverend Mother knew it was vital that Sister Marie-Marc should think that neither of them knew where the children had gone.