“What’s Father planning with that group he’s formed?”
“I don’t think he knows yet. He started gathering people together as soon as he saw the British start their evacuation. He knew we were about to be left defenseless.” He spat out the last word with angry intensity. “Our leaders betrayed us with their incompetence.”
“Have you heard from Nicolas? Did the American get out safely?”
“You mean the British soldier?”
“Ah, yes. He speaks French so well, but he has that Sercquiais accent, and once in a while he sounds like an American.” As she spoke of Jeremy, her voice caught, and she felt a strange softening in her chest. She turned her head to obscure the flushing in her cheeks. “His father is American. He told me that.”
Claude chuckled. “You like him.”
Irritated, Amélie snapped, “We’re in a war. I don’t have time to think about such things. He’s dead to me.”
“When you went out in the rain, you saved both Jeremy and your father,” Claude said, adding softly, “and later you saved Chantal.”
“I’m not proud of it. It’s something that happened that never should have. Why are we living this way, with the Nazis invading our country, dictating our lives, and all those French and British boys getting killed trying to protect us?” She reached for a handkerchief and sniffed. “Jeremy is beautiful and kind and brave, and he might be on his way to be captured or murdered like all the rest. We all risked saving him. I’m worried about Nicolas too. If he gets caught helping…” Her voice trailed away.
“Nicolas knows how to move around and take care of himself,” Claude said. “The last time I talked with him, he and Jeremy had made it to the northwest of Paris. The Nazis had not yet cut the lines. The refugee traffic is thick and heavy, though. It helps them hide, but they are in the same boat as everyone else heading south.”
Late in the afternoon, they approached the farm in Dardilly. Amélie’s mind wandered again to Nicolas, and to Jeremy. Once again, her throat and lungs constricted, and she felt warmth rising in her cheeks. “I can’t love you,” she whispered to the mental image of Jeremy’s strong face. “I don’t know you, and I have no time.”
When they arrived at her cousins’ house, she was surprised to find them in a festive mood. They ran out of the house to greet her, Claude, and Chantal.
“It’s so good to see you,” Marie, her cousin closest to her age, enthused. “We are excited to have you here, especially at this time.” She glanced at Chantal, who seemed barely aware of the activity around her. “Is she all right?”
“She’s been very sick,” Amélie said, striking a defensive note. “I’ll have to look after her.”
Andre, another cousin a few years older than Amélie, chimed in. “I’ll bring in your things. What an adventure you’ve had. We’re glad it’s all over now.”
Amélie stared at him without comprehension. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard? Marshal Pétain is negotiating a peace agreement with Germany. He seeks the end of armed hostilities and told French soldiers that the fighting must stop. France will be saved. It was just on the radio.”
Claude swore and became silent. No one appeared to have noticed.
Sensing her cousin’s enthusiasm, Amélie contained her shock as the five walked a gravel path into the stone farmhouse with a thatched roof. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she commented. “The news comes as such a surprise.”
A few minutes later, as they sat in the living room with refreshments and were joined by Claude’s sister and her husband, Andre crossed to a radio on a stand against the wall. He tuned it to the BBC station, and they listened to music while waiting to hear news from Britain.
Then, an announcer stated that General Charles de Gaulle would address the French nation from London. He had escaped from France two days earlier.
Andre snickered. “Doesn’t he realize that hardly anyone will hear his speech? Mon Dieu! Radios aren’t things you can carry around with you or play in your car. Besides, a huge part of the population is out on the roads.”
“Some cars have radios,” Marie interjected.
“Not many, at least not in France today. Maybe in America,” Claude said with a sarcastic edge to his tone. “Either way, I suppose that de Gaulle’s audience will be roughly equal to Pétain’s, for exactly the same reasons.”
They listened to the speech, de Gaulle’s voice sounding hoarse and hollow over the electronic crackling of the radio set. “Has the last word been said?” he asked defiantly. “Must hope disappear? Is defeat final? No!
“France is not alone! She is not alone! She has a vast Empire behind her. She can align with the British Empire that holds the sea and continues the fight. She can, like England, use without limit the immense industry of the United States.”
He exhorted his countrymen to join him in the fight by all means available. “Whatever happens,” he finished, “the flame of the Free French resistance must not be and will not be extinguished. Vive la France!”
When he had finished, Andre said in disgust, “That fool wants France to keep fighting. Many of us remember the last war, even if we were too young to fight. Such death and destruction. We don’t want that again.”
“Pétain is the idiot,” Claude snapped back. “He gives aid and comfort to the army that drove us from our homes. He thinks he can negotiate with the madman in Berlin who orders Stukas to fire on a fleeing population.” He breathed hard as he struggled to control his rage. “He asks Germany what their terms will be? He sees himself as the great savior of France by surrendering to those monsters who kill our people.” He whirled on Andre. “Our hero of the Great War is a Nazi sympathizer. The man now running France seeks to emulate that atrocious Austrian corporal with the silly little mustache.”
Nicolas and Jacques had
