As I stepped forward to take one man’s place in the crowd to get a better look, a body moved around me, and I glanced down to see Evelyn.
“I told you to stay at the store.”
“I want to know what’s going on.”
Her sudden appearance caught not only my attention, but some of the German troops standing nearby noticed her too, and as they turned to watch her, I yanked her back around to my other side, inching a bit in front of her to block their view.
“I was standing there,” she said, a slight growl to my voice.
“Shh,” I snapped back. “The German troops are watching you.”
With my words, I stared back at the German soldiers still watching her. One even leaned over to the one beside him, whispering something. The two then laughed.
“One of the British soldiers is Harold,” she whispered to me.
I nodded, a silent acknowledgment I already knew.
“Let me through,” a voice called out.
The surrounding crowd parted as Fred Lingfield pushed and shoved his way through.
“Let me through!” Reaching the front of the line, two other men stopped him before he could run toward the Major. “Let him go. That’s my son. He’s not a spy. He’s just visiting.”
“Visiting?” The Major glanced between the father and son. “Why would a British solider visit his father, fully knowing the Germany controls Guernsey?”
“I . . . I told him to come. I told him I . . . I had an emergency.”
“And why would you do that?”
“I . . .” Fred dropped his gaze for a moment as though he felt shame. “I wanted him to leave His Majesty’s Army and come home. I feared for his life.”
The Major’s eyes narrowed again as he studied the father and then the son. His lips pursed, and he paced around the handcuffed men, tapping the leather stick in his hand on the side of his leg. The thwack sound echoed. “I am afraid your son is in a precarious predicament.” He raised his voice for the entire crowd to hear. “Of course, we wish to retain our ‘model occupation’.” Even though he smiled as he began his speech, it was there. After those words, his friendliness vanished and his face twisted into something dark. “However, I cannot have spies infiltrating my troops.”
“I am not a spy,” the soldier with Harold said. He glanced at the Major, but only for a moment before he returned his gaze to the ground. “I’m not a spy, and I will tell you anything you wish to know.”
Harold’s head whipped toward his comrade. “What did you just say?”
“Shut up. I have a wife and daughter at home, and I want to see them again.” The soldier motioned for the Major once more. “I swear. Anything you wish to know.”
“Silence!” the Major shouted. His thick German accent thundered through the syllables of the word.
Evelyn flinched and reached out, grabbing my arm. I moved a few inches closer to her, partially facing her, but still blocking her in a protective stance. Several of the other men in the crowd backed away a few steps too, leaving Mr. Lingfield standing alone, but near his son.
“One of you says you are spies and the other one says you are not.” Major Lanz paced around the two men once again, tapping his whip against his leg. “I suppose in the end I do not know if I even hold any concern for which is the truth and which is a lie.”
“So, does that mean we die either way?” Harold asked.
Major Lanz stopped pacing and marched up to Harold. His face was inches from my friend’s face, and while he stared down upon Harold, my friend hunched his shoulders and stared at the ground. Defeated, he held both the look of courage and shame.
“Tell me what you were up to and why you were on this island and I will send you to a prisoner of war camp where you may live out the rest of your life or tell me nothing and I will shoot you for treason where you stand.”
Fearing the outcome I knew was coming, I moved more in front of Evelyn, hoping to block her. If she wouldn’t leave, at least I could shelter her from the sight.
I stared at Harold, both willing him to divulge his secrets and yet wanting him to keep them in an act of defiance against our enemy. I didn’t know which part of the deal was worse, and by my guess Harold was thinking the same thought—death or a prisoner of war camp. Only, it wasn’t camp in the sense of sleeping under the stars with a fire next to you to keep you warm. Like all those summer days and nights we used to spend down in the meadows or along the beach, just young lads enjoying our youth.
I’d read about the German camps. Jews and captured soldiers died horrible deaths in them. Starved, beaten, surely, an instant death by a shot in the head would be better.
And I feared Harold would feel the same.
“We’re here on a reconnaissance mission,” the other soldier blurted out. “Sent here to see if we can find out how many German troops are here. Where you are stationed, what equipment you have.”
“Miller, you need to shut up.” Harold’s words hissed through his gritted teeth. “Don’t you see, even by telling them you won’t see your family ever again.”
“There’s a chance I will.”
“Do you think we will let you go?” Major Lanz laughed.
“You’ll have to when you lose the war.” As soon as the soldier finished his sentence, his eyes widened as though he hadn’t thought about what he said until after he said it.
Major Lanz moved over to him, bumping the poor lad with his chest. As he stood so close, his spit hit the soldier’s face. “Müller!”
“Yes, Major?” one of the German troops stepped forward.
“Take this prisoner of war to my office.”
“Yes, Major.”
As the German soldier marched away with the young British soldier, Major Lana turned his attention toward Harold. A slight sneer to his lips, as though he’d won a prize already, and he wondered if he would win another one.
“And you? What do you have to say to me?”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Is what your friend said true? Were you here to spy upon the Heer?”
“Again, I have nothing to say.”
Major Lanz nodded as though pondering to himself. “I suppose then I have nothing else to say either. Except you are hereby sentenced to death for treason against Germany and Der Führer.”
“No!” Fred shouted and lunged forward.
Before anyone could grab him, and before Harold could utter a word for him to stop, Major Lanz withdrew his pistol and shot Fred. The bullet hit him in the chest and his body collapsed on the ground. I spun around, wrapping my arms around Evelyn as she screamed. Men around us fled, and as I glanced at Fred, with blood splattered across his shirt, the crimson pool around the wound spread. He gasped for air and then went limp. His eyes stared up at the sky above him.
Harold rushed toward him, dropping to his knees. With his hands handcuffed behind his back, all he could do was shout for his father to hold on and not to leave him.
More and more men in the crowd ran away, leaving only a few along with me, and Evelyn, who had buried herself into my chest. I gripped her tighter, shielding her as I shoved her backwards. With my back to the scene, I heard Harold cuss at Major Lanz. I closed my eyes, waiting to hear another gunshot.
I didn’t have to wait long.
The second sound vibrated through my body. Evelyn clutched my shirt tighter, her knuckles turned white as the material threatened to rip.
“You! Stop!” A tickle of fear ran up the back of my neck as I wondered if Major Lanz had been talking to me. “Mr. Barrow who runs the purchasing office. Stop.”
A groan left my lips, and I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his gaze.
“You, deal with these men.”
“I beg your pardon?” As soon as I uttered the word, the regret struck me. Damn. I shouldn’t have been so stupid.
Major Lanz cocked his head to the side. His eyes narrowed. I’d seen the look of anger on another man before. But this time was different. His coldness
was like no other. “You, deal with these men.”
“And how do you wish for me to do that?” I released Evelyn and rested both hands on my cane.
“Throw them off the cliffs for all I care.” He waved his hand, turning to leave.
“Are they not allowed a proper burial?”
He paused. His hands clenched in tight fists. “They are guilty of treason. Throw them off the cliffs. They can have their burial in the depths of the sea.” He pointed toward another one of his troops, the hauptmann I remembered who had taken residency in Evelyn’s parents’ house. Never one to stay with a group, I often watched him wandering the streets alone, a forlorn look to him more often than not. As though something pained him.
“Heinrich, deal with that.”
The hauptmann cocked his head to the side. “Führer?” he asked.
The two exchanged words in German, and while I couldn’t be sure, I got the impression that the one they called Heinrich, too, asked his superior a few too many questions like I had. With one last shouted command by Major Lanz, Hauptmann Heinrich’s shoulders slouched and the other Germans around him laughed and pointed as though they were making fun of him. He cursed at them and pointed toward me.
“Well, let’s get this job done.”
I nodded to him, releasing my grip on Evelyn. She met my gaze. Her eyes were full of tears. “They shot him,” she whispered. “They shot them both.”
“I need you to go back to the store and take the lorry home.”
She shook her head in utter panic. “I . . . I can’t go alone. Don’t make me go alone.”
I grabbed her shoulders. “You have to. I can’t come with you. I’ve got to do this, and I need to know you are safely out of town.”
“Please don’t make me go alone.”
“You have to.” A growl rumbled through me, and I hugged her tight before kissing her forehead. Hoping to give her some comfort, I ignored how my stomach flipped as my lips touched her. “You’ll be fine. The keys are under the counter. Just drive it home and wait for me with Ian. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Why can’t I just wait at the store for you?”
“I don’t want you in town.” I glanced up and all around us, feeling the unease settling in even from behind the blackout curtains in the windows of the homes and businesses. “You’ll be safer at home.”
With a gentle push, I motioned Evelyn toward the store, guiding her with my hand on the small of her back for a few steps. She sobbed, shaking her head the whole time before she finally darted up the lane.
I spun, unable to control my anger, and pointed my finger at the hauptmann. “This better not take long.”
His eyes shifted toward his friends as they walked off, continuing to talk to him and laugh. His attention came back to me and he nodded. “I will get the cart.”
He trotted off while I stayed with the bodies. While they weren’t the first I’d ever laid eyes on, they were the first shot. The first to drain blood all over the ground, the pools grew and grew with a crimson ooze I hadn’t expected to be so thick. The copper smell caused me to gag, and I turned away from them, covering my mouth with my hand.
Hauptmann Heinrich returned as quickly as he had left, tugging a cart behind him. He eyed me for a moment and then motioned toward Fred first as he moved toward the old man and bent down to grab him by the chest and shoulders. I grabbed his legs, limping heavily as we moved toward the cart.
“They were friends of yours?” the hauptmann asked.
“Yes, they were.”
“I’m sorry for them. And I’m sorry for you.”
We heaved the dead weight up and scrambled over to the cart. The both of us grunted as we had to lift Fred a few more inches to get him inside. Limp in my arms, the feeling twisted in my stomach.
“Why are you sorry? I mean, why do you care?”
“He was a man. They were father and son, and they were family. He was also a friend. It is still sad even if he is English.”
He shrugged as he gave a slight smile as if he was trying to make a joke.
I stared at him. My brow furrowed. “Yes, he was a friend, and they were family, and yes, it is sad.”
Hauptmann Heinrich jerked his head, tilting his chin toward the direction of the street. “Your girlfriend. Is she all right?”
I opened my mouth to tell him she was also just a friend, but stopped myself, thinking that if he knew she was with someone, perhaps he would tell his friends, and they might think twice of coming near her. “She’ll be all right as soon as I get her home. To my home. To our home. You know, because she moved into it with me after you took hers.” I deepened the last of my words, trying to get the point across more.
“Ah. I remember now. I hope she will be all right. I would not wish for my sister to see what she saw. It is sad she had to witness it.”
He moved onto Harold, bending down and unlocking the handcuffs. With a few twists and clicks, Harold’s arms fell free, landing in the dirt and in one of the deepest parts of his pooled blood. He rolled Harold over and grabbed him as he had Fred around the chest and shoulders. I grabbed his feet, and we hoisted him in the same way, dropping him on his father.
“At least they go to their grave together,” Hauptmann Heinrich said.
“I suppose you could say that.”
While the hauptmann pulled the cart, I pushed, and we rolled it through the streets of town and down the lane toward the cliffs. Although the sun’s rays warmed my back, the chilly breeze ripped through my shirt, chilling me as it hit against the sweat beading my entire body and bit at the exposed skin of my face and neck.
We struggled most of the way, the hauptmann more than me, as he seemed to take on the brunt of the work given my leg, and he yanked the cart through tall dead winter grass and through ruts from the Volkswagen Kübelwagens left as they plowed through the countryside—our teamwork like that of two people who had worked together before, as odd as it was to say.
Continuing to the cliffs, we finally reached them. Both of us were drenched in sweat and shivering at the same time.
“Do you want to say a few words?” the hauptmann asked. His lips quivered and his teeth chattered.
“Normally, I would say yes, but not today. I will say a few tonight when I’m alone and near a warm fire in my house.”
“Fair enough.”
We grabbed Harold first, swinging him a couple of times to gain momentum before we tossed him over. I spun, not able to watch as the body fell toward the sea. We moved onto Fred, with the same effort, and like the son, I couldn’t watch the father either. Discarded like they were no better than animals. My anger boiled.
While I turned away from the edge of the cliff, the hauptmann didn’t. He stood next to me, looking down toward the sea. His lungs heaved as much as mine from the strain of throwing the men to their grave.
“I almost envy them,” he said.
I jerked my head toward him. “You envy the dead?”
He shrugged. “They are at peace, no longer having to deal with this war.”
“They also will never live the rest of their lives. Harold will never get married or have children. He was an only child, and now there is no one to carry on his family name. Not to mention his mother is now a childless widow. And you envy that?” I snorted a chuckle in disbelief.
“I do not believe you would understand, but yes, I envy their peace, and now their freedom.” He glanced at me. “You can tell your girlfriend I make sure we take good care of her house. I keep it clean and we have broken nothing. I have made sure of it.”
“I’m sure she will be happy to hear such news.”
“I wish I could have given her more time to pack her things. I hated rushing her because I can only imagine how she felt. I know how my mother and sister would feel. But I had orders I had to see to.”
“It was all right. We got her things out in time.” I glanced at him, a little uneasy and confused by the casual conversation he seemed to wish to have with
me. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“There were a few boxes of books in the cellar, I think five or six. I went back the next morning to get them, but the solider told me they were gone. What happened to them?”
“They are still down there. There are six of them. The soldier who told you, he lied. Why, I do not know. You can have them if you want them, but only if you answer me why the owners of the house have them?”
“Miss Ashton . . . the young lady, she . . . she wanted to open a bookshop before you arrived. She has a shop rented in town and those books were what she had collected to sell. She saved for months to buy those books.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “So, yes, I do want them.”
“I shall have them moved to your grocery store by tomorrow afternoon. Tell Miss . . . Ashton she may open her bookshop. There will be no problems as long as she submits to inspections of her stock and she agrees to not sell any books or authors we have banned.”
“And what will you tell Major Lanz if someone tells him?”
“Let me worry about that. I am giving you permission. If it wasn’t mine to give, I wouldn’t do it.” He wiped his brow before he yanked on the cart and started back toward town.
EIGHTEEN
Evelyn - November 1940
I ran back to the store. My eyes blurred with tears and they streamed down my cheeks. The icy wind nearly froze them to my skin before I could wipe them away. I couldn’t get the images of Harold and his father lying dead on the ground out of my head. They flashed in my mind’s eye again and again and again, taunting me until I thought I would go mad. I wanted to rip them from my brain, discarding them on the side of the street where I’d never have to think about them ever again.
Of course, that wasn’t something I could do.
Instead, I would have to live with it for the rest of my life.
Just like I had with seeing my parents.
I’d now seen more death than I ever thought I would. Seen how lifeless someone can look with their eyes opened toward the sky and frozen in time. Seen how pale their skin can grow, how their lips can turn blue, and how they can suddenly look as though they were made of something other than flesh and bone. Like they were never really alive, you just foolishly believed they were.
Yours: An Emotional and Gripping WWII Family Saga (The Promises Between Us Trilogy Book 1) Page 20