“Of course. Good person to get lost with, behind enemy lines. I have no idea how we did it, but we slipped by all the German patrols, and they never caught us. We got picked up by a fishing boat on the French coast and came back smelling like a year of dead fish.”
“Sounds delightful.” He was sure there was much she wasn’t telling him, like all the dangers and risks they encountered. “Were you involved in the business in Normandy?” he asked. Neither of them knew much about the other’s missions. They weren’t supposed to. She shook her head in answer to his question, which was safe to ask her now.
“Nowhere for us to land. They took the wounded off by boat and brought them to us. It was an ugly business. The hospitals were full to the gills, and still are, two months later.”
“We lost some men there. But it will turn the tides, so it was worth it.” She wondered who decided what was worth it, and how many men one had to sacrifice to turn the tides.
“I hope so,” was all she said, and they walked back to the house and ran into their parents coming back from the family cemetery. They both looked like they’d been crying.
* * *
—
The service the next day was predictably painful, and just what it ought to have been: solemn, respectful, tender, poignant, and no longer than it had to be. Their neighbors had come, friends of their parents’ generation. It was beautiful in a simple way for a greatly loved son who had given his life for his king and country, and would be long remembered as a man and a boy by those who loved him.
Max drove her back to the base when he left, since he had borrowed a car to come. It was easier than waiting for another unscheduled freight train, which was dangerous now anyway. The Germans blew them up whenever they could. They rode in silence much of the time, thinking of their brother, and then chatted for a while. She asked Max if he had a girlfriend, and he said he didn’t.
“It wouldn’t be fair, really. You never know what’s going to happen.” She felt the same way for herself.
“Do you think Phillip did?” she asked, curious. They never spoke of such things, but he might have to Max.
“A hundred of them.” He laughed. “I never knew him to spend more than a week or two with any girl. He tired of them easily, and loved them all.” It sounded about right to her too, knowing her younger brother. It was sad to think that was all over now. A young life ended all too quickly, but he had had fun too, and made everyone who knew him happy. It was something to remember him for.
Max drove her to her dormitory when they got to the base and promised to come and visit her soon.
“You won’t,” she said with a smile. “There’s never time, is there?” She knew he was busy too. “We should try and get up to see Mum and Dad, though, when we can. They’re brave, but they need us now.”
He was quiet for a moment. “We need each other too. You’re a good sister, you know, even if I don’t say it often. Take care of yourself, Pru. Don’t do anything too mad with your Flying Devils, or take too many walking tours behind enemy lines.” He hadn’t liked that story, although she made light of it so he wouldn’t worry, which was so much her style, and part of the bravery he had referred to and respected so much about her.
“You too,” she said quietly. “You don’t need to be a hero. Just get out of this alive. Our parents need us now, more than they did before.” There was a crack in their armor now, and time wasn’t on their side.
“You remember that too,” he said seriously. “Take care of yourself, Pru. I’ll be up to see you soon, to check on you. It’s what big brothers are supposed to do.” She hugged him and he kissed her cheek and drove away a few minutes later, thinking how lucky he was to have her as a sister. She was a noble girl with a heart of gold and more courage than anyone he’d ever known, man or woman. He wished he were more like her. She was an example to them all, and never made a fuss about anything. She just got on with it and did what she knew was right every time.
* * *
—
As the Allies approached Paris in late August, the Germans fought harder, and the Resistance fought back with everything they had. There were more Resistance fighters being killed by the Germans than there had been for a while, and more desperate acts committed by the freedom fighters, blowing up arms factories, munitions dumps, railways, and doing everything they could to hurt the Germans. The Allies were doing all they could to help the Resistance, and the British had sent forces in to rescue Resistance units when it was possible. The Germans wanted all the members of the Resistance dead if the Nazis had to leave France.
There was a midnight call in the nurses’ barracks for nurses needed for a delicate mission. And with the final push toward Paris, the air evac nurses were being pulled in all directions.
Louise Jackson was one of the nurses called on for the highly sensitive mission, which she accepted, and in the circumstances, no one objected to her color. They needed topflight nurses to rescue nine Resistance fighters behind enemy lines. The Germans were closing in on the fighters to kill them, and the British had promised to help. One of the Resistance fighters the Germans were after was the most dangerous agent of the Resistance in all of France. The German High Command wanted him, dead or alive. He was known only as Tristan. The British had been notified that he was gravely injured.
Louise was on the tarmac at one a.m., wide-awake, prepared and ready to do whatever was necessary. She was fearless, and one of their best nurses. They sent two other nurses in with her, one of the Australian girls and a British nurse she had worked with before. They were briefed on their mission by an officer on the tarmac. They were going to be parachuted in with two corpsmen, and it was made clear to them how dangerous the mission was. She didn’t hesitate to accept it nonetheless. They headed toward France once they took off. The pilot flew low and made the drop successfully, and all three nurses and the two corpsmen headed immediately toward the agreed-upon meeting point, which was a farmhouse in the Maritime Alps. It took them three hours walking over rough terrain to get there. Louise and the others were quiet along the way. They were carrying nothing that could identify them as British military, and they all knew that they would be shot as spies if they got caught. Only Louise and the Australian nurse and one of the corpsmen spoke French, but none of them well enough to pass as natives.
Louise could feel her heart pound as the farmhouse came into view. It was an old stone house with a barn in the back. There were sheep and goats in the front yard, and a dog barked as they approached. The two corpsmen walked ahead of the nurses, and a youngish man in overalls came out of the house smoking a cigarette and carrying a shovel, which identified him as their contact.
“We’re here to see your grandfather,” the corpsman said in French. They looked like visitors, and each of them was wearing a small backpack with the medical supplies they needed. The nine Resistance fighters they were coming to see had been injured in an explosion when they blew up a train carrying German troops two days earlier. Many of the German soldiers had been killed, along with several officers. Two of the Resistance fighters were gravely injured. They had been supplying vital information to the British, and had to be gotten out of France as quickly as possible, but several of them were too damaged to transport, and would surely be tortured and killed if left behind. Their leader was critically wounded, and he couldn’t be moved.