by Diane Moody
This will take a miracle. Anya shook off the thought.
Carefully, slowly, urgently they worked. It seemed like hours but Anya knew it was probably no more than half an hour at most. Finally they could see the rest of the truck bed, its contents strewn haphazardly. She spotted an open box of weapons and silently by way of hand signals told Charlie to grab a few along with some ammunition. He worked silently as Anya walked back into the compartment, every step made slow and deliberate.
“Morrison, you will need to help Lieutenant McClain, but you must both be absolutely silent. Take it slow and watch your step.”
“But what about Sergeant Fogelman? We can’t just leave him here,” his friend pleaded.
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we have no choice.”
The young man blinked a couple of times, took a deep breath, then nodded.
She and Morrison quietly helped Danny to his feet.
“Anya, are you sure?” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll slow you down. You know I will.”
“Not another word. Just hang on.”
They continued their slow journey around the trunks and crates of the long truck bed. Charlie handed them each a loaded gun, filling his own pockets with ammunition. Anya went first, peeking just enough to get a lay of the situation. The German mercenaries appeared to be sound asleep around the dying campfire which was several meters from the truck’s side. If they carefully exited the truck and immediately moved to the other side of it, they should be able to remain out of view of the sleeping pigs. She turned to face her three charges, giving them directions again with silent hand motions. Morrison gestured the sign of the cross. She hoped his silent prayer helped.
Charlie and Morrison helped Danny down from the truck, each movement measured and silent while Anya kept them covered. Hidden from view once they moved to the other side of the truck, Anya considered their options. Daybreak was moments away. They needed to get out of there and fast. Charlie pointed toward a cluster of trees and they slowly made their way in that direction.
Suddenly a soldier emerged from behind the trees, his attention focused on his zipper. Anya was on him in a flash, shoving a scarf in his mouth at the same instant she kneed him hard in the groin. His eyes bugged briefly before rolling back as he passed out. She helped him fall to the ground to avoid a loud thud, then grabbed his head and swiftly snapped his neck. She relieved him of his pistol and rushed back to join the others.
They stared at her with stunned expressions as if paralyzed until she waved them forward, motioning with her gun. “Move it!” she whispered angrily.
As the men disappeared into the trees, she looked back over her shoulder for one last glance. There, Eduard’s lifeless body hung half way out of the truck’s cab, his unseeing eyes staring wide. Just beyond him, Frederic’s body sat slumped over, his head resting against the blood-smeared window.
She fought the despair, swallowing hard against the bile in her throat, then forced herself to follow the Americans.
58
Danny hated this. Twice he’d tried to convince the others to just leave him and go, but they wouldn’t listen. He’d never known such pain as that in his injured foot each time it made contact with the ground, and now his headache seemed intent on competing with the pain in his foot. Charlie was doing his best to help lug him through the forest, but the frustration was wearing thin.
“Charlie, please. This is ridiculous.”
“So help me, Danny, if you say that one more time, I’ll punch your lights out and hoist you over my shoulder. Knock it off. We’re not leaving you, so shut up, will you?”
“We’re not far now,” Anya said, falling back to join them. “We should be near Utrecht soon.”
“What is your plan, Eva?” Charlie asked.
“I will find some place for you all to hide, then I shall make my way into town and survey the situation.”
“We can’t let you go by yourself!” Danny argued.
“It’s far less risky for me to go alone. You three would draw too much attention. You’d be walking targets.”
“Anya, please!” Danny pleaded, then caught himself. “I mean, Eva. Please let Charlie or Sergeant Morrison go with you.”
“I know you may find this difficult to believe, Lieutenant, but long before you Americans finally decided to come to our rescue, we learned how to play this game called war. So don’t insult me by treating me like some helpless damsel in distress.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m simply—”
“Over here.” Anya cut a path to their left. “This will be a good place for you to hide until I get back.”
They followed her into a dense covering. Charlie helped Danny onto the ground. The relief of being off his feet overwhelmed him. He laid his head back against a tree and tried to compose himself.
“Ma’am, I mean no disrespect,” Morrison began, “but I have to agree with the lieutenant. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself and all, but I’d sure feel better if you’d let me come along. Just in case something happened.”
Danny could have hugged the guy. Surely Anya would listen to reason—even if it had to come from someone else.
“I appreciate your offer, Sergeant, but it’s much safer for a woman to travel alone under the circumstances. Most every man in our country has been carted off by the Germans to work in ‘volunteer’ labor camps. So if the Germans should see you, they’d know something was wrong.”
“So how did Eduard and Frederic elude their detection?” Danny countered. “Weren’t they also making frequent ‘deliveries’ just like you?”
She looked at him a long time before answering. He couldn’t believe he’d said something so insensitive. Her fellow Resistance workers had just been gunned down. “Anya, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Who’s Anya?” Morrison asked.
“I am Anya. Apparently Lieutenant McClain is unable to keep a confidence. We do not use our real names in our work because it is far too dangerous.” She cocked her head at an angle, folded her arms over her chest, and turned her gaze on Danny. “But at this point, we’ll have to forego all of that, and try to get through this without getting us all killed. If that is all right with you, Lieutenant?”
He looked away, unwilling to see the fire in her glare.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Now stay out of sight until I return. Under no circumstances are you to leave. Is that understood?”
They all nodded, though Danny did so under protest.
“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She turned to go then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here are some bulbs if you get hungry,” she said, digging them out of her deep pocket. “Hopefully I can find something more substantial once I get you settled.” She handed Charlie the bulbs and started to make her way out of the thicket.
“Anya?” Danny called out to her.
She stopped and looked back at him.
“Please . . . please be careful.”
For a split second, he thought he saw a trace of tenderness in her eyes as she nodded.
Then she was gone.
How many times had she walked these roads? How many miles had she put on her feet? Long ago, they’d bled and cracked and ached when she had walked long distances. Now they were calloused and rough to the touch, but that didn’t stop the aching. If she thought about it long enough, she would drop down where she was and never get up again. At this point, she could easily convince herself to give up and be done with it all. But that was not an option. Not with three Allies needing her help. And so she must focus on them and keep going.
Anya was torn. The closest place to go was the Boormans’ farm, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the stomach to face the demons of that place and what happened the last time she was there. No telling who was occupying the house now. Where could she go? Eduard had said all the safe houses were compromised after Enschede was infiltrated. She couldn’t bear to think of them
all murdered, but neither could she risk going there.
Home? Can I go home?
How desperately she wanted to run the rest of way, fling open the door, and find her family waiting for her with open arms. But that would never happen. They were all gone. Did she have the courage to go there? And if she did, would she find refuge for herself and the three Allies? For Danny?
No. I can’t bear it. I refuse to go there now. But where else can we find shelter?
She wouldn’t pray. Even though they escaped from the German mercenaries in an impossible situation, she wasn’t ready to give God credit for saving them. And she certainly couldn’t thank Him. Wasn’t she the one who came up with the plan to leave before the soldiers woke up? Wasn’t she the one who found the courage to lead them out of that situation? Of course she was. So why should she resurrect the God who had long forgotten the Dutch just to thank Him for something she did?
Think. Where can I go? Where can I take these men and be safe?
It came to her immediately. She picked up her pace, determined to find the help she needed and the one she knew would give it. Another kilometer north then two blocks over.
Fifteen minutes later, she spotted the familiar house and ran up the front walkway and the six steps up to the porch. She knocked quietly, afraid to call out. She knocked again, trying to see through the lace curtains on the door’s window.
The door flew open. “Anya!”
“Oh, Helga!” Anya rushed into her friend’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re home! I didn’t know where else to go.”
“I can’t believe you’re here! Are you all right?” the kind woman asked, steering Anya toward the kitchen.
“Yes, I am fine. But I need help.”
“Sit. I shall make us tea.”
“I don’t have time, Helga. I have three Allied airmen hidden outside of town. I must get them to safety, but I—”
“Don’t go to the safe house! Haven’t you heard the news?”
“Yes, Eduard told us we’ve all been compromised after Enschede was infiltrated.”
“Yes, we’ve abandoned ours as well. They have names and descriptions and they know our routines. None of us are safe. None. Please, sit. Just for a moment. We must figure out what to do with your airmen.”
Anya took a seat at the table then Helga joined her, placing her hand over Anya’s. “Where are Eduard and the others?”
Anya looked her straight in the eye and shook her head.
“Oh no, Anya, no!” she cried. “What happened?”
As quickly as she could, she relayed the events of the past day. Even hearing the words coming from her own mouth, she couldn’t believe they’d escaped. It couldn’t have happened but it did.
“Helga, I must hurry. Will you let me bring the men here? Do you have some place to hide them?”
“Of course. I have a place much like the one your parents had. We can hide them here until we can find a way to get them to the coast. I will get word to someone.”
Anya stood and hugged her. “Thank you. I will go and bring them back as soon as I can.”
“Good. Be careful, dear,” she said, following her to the door. “Try to be back before curfew.”
“I will.”
Anya pulled her cap over her head and hurried back the way she had come. She dismissed any thought of danger, focused solely on returning where she left the men. She had seen hardly anyone on her way into town, weaving her way in and out of trees and shrubbery to stay out of view as much as possible. She hoped the same would be true on the way out.
The rumble of a truck sounded in the distance behind her. She scoped her surroundings and found nothing but a small tree in the distance. But to run to it now would draw attention to herself. I have nothing to hide. I’m merely a Dutch woman walking to a farm somewhere to bargain for food. Women do this every day. I can do this.
She didn’t look back but knew the truck was approaching. She heard the gears change as it slowed alongside her.
“Fräulein, would you like a ride?”
She paused and looked at the man on the passenger side who’d spoken to her. German soldiers. Play the game.
She scratched her head through her cap. “No, I appreciate very much the offer,” she answered in German, “but I would like to walk.” She scratched her elbow vigorously and continued walking.
“But it looks as if it could rain,” the soldier asked as the truck kept pace with her. “Would you not prefer a dry ride to a wet walk?”
She played the idiot, raising her face to the cloudy sky while scratching under her arm. “Oh, I see what you mean.” She stretched out her neck like a giraffe and gave it a good scratch, then leveled her gaze back their direction. “Well, I suppose—”
The gears changed and the truck started rolling. “Sorry, Fräulein, but we just realized we have no room.” And off it went in a cloud of dust.
She pressed her lips together to stifle her smile. How many times had she used this ploy, always with the same results? Her imaginary infestation of lice had always served her well, scaring off many a German. She blew out the breath she’d been holding, thankful for the ruse and thankful for the German aversion to all things crawling.
Once again she picked up her pace, anxious to get back to Danny and the others.
Oh Danny . . . why must it be so complicated? He was absolutely right. She had nothing to stay for. No family. Only a handful of Resistance workers, all scattered and under the radar now. And of course, Helga. But how could she leave her beloved country? How could she desert the other workers when so few were left to fight?
Behind her, she heard the rumble of another truck. I can’t believe it. With no fuel left, still the trucks roll. She fought her frustration and gave her head a good scratch. Just in case.
As the truck drew closer, it too slowed down. She fought the urge to look, preferring ignorance.
“Anya?”
She slowed, but didn’t respond.
“Anya, Helga has sent me for you.”
She turned to find a familiar face, but one she couldn’t immediately place. Better to act dumb until she could remember. “Helga?”
“Yes. She got in touch with us. I was not far so they sent me to help you.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” He smiled and she vaguely recalled seeing his kind face . . . and the same truck, but—
“I gave you a ride into Utrecht. You and your friend. You had stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Hildebrand after—”
“After getting off the train with the children. Yes, I remember you now,” she said, approaching his truck. “Though I can’t seem to recall your name. I apologize.”
He leaned over and threw open the passenger door for her. “Nathan. But no need to apologize. These are difficult times.”
She climbed up into the truck and closed the door. “Yes, they are most difficult.” She looked down at her hand, still gripping the door handle, remembering the last time she was in this vehicle. Hans had been seated where she now sat. The memory of what happened not long after they’d watched Nathan drive away curled in her stomach. She closed her eyes, finding it hard to breathe.
“Are you all right?” he asked, touching her arm.
Her eyes flew open, and she turned toward him. “Yes, I . . .” She shook her head hard. “I’m sorry, yes. I’m all right. And I’m very glad to see you. I’m afraid I’m a little exhausted. That’s all.”
He put the truck in gear and they were on their way. “You’ll have to tell me where we’re going. Helga told us you were transporting three Allied airmen and needed to pick them up.”
Ten minutes later, the men were loaded in the back and they were on their way.
“Nathan, if we’re stopped, we’re all dead. The Germans won’t be fooled by a few blankets thrown over the men back there.”
“I know. That’s why we’re not going back to Helga’s.”
“What? But she’s expecting me. I told her we’d return a
s soon as we could.”
“Anya, you have to trust me. I sent word to Helga. She knows we’ve had a change of plans.”
She pulled her cap off, irritated. “What change of plans?”
“We have passage for the men but we must get them to the coast today. With the Allies making so much progress now, the Germans are desperate. We have reason to believe the vessels leaving today may be among the last to get out until it’s all over. There’s no time to lose.”
“How can we possibly make it to the coast without being stopped? I’ve made these deliveries, Nathan. I know how this works.”
“As have I. But today, we will go a route that bypasses the roadblocks all together.”
“Oh, that’s original. That’s how we got in this mess in the first place. We took the back roads and ran right into the heart of German mercenaries. No, turn this truck around. We are not going through this again!”
He spoke with confidence as he looked over at her. “Anya, you have to trust me.”
And here I thought Nathan was a decent fellow. He’s just like the rest of them. Bullheaded, stubborn, and—
“Last week we sabotaged three roadblocks along this bypass route. The German guards are in fact our own people. We’ve been able to monitor all their activities as well as let our own people have safe passage through this area. We’ve got one coming up. I’ll show you exactly what I’m talking about.”
And he did. Much to Anya’s disbelief, they went through a routine roadblock much as any other, except that these “German” soldiers were merely play acting the part. This, Nathan told her, was done in case any Germans were coming through dressed as civilians. With the Allies closing in, some of the German soldiers had laid down their machine guns, changed out of their uniforms, and made an effort to blend in rather than face arrest or worse. But even a deserter couldn’t be trusted. So these Resistance workers acting as German soldiers went through the motions, even checking the cargo portion of the truck without flinching.