Chapter Four

Adeline decided to go to the grocery because a supply of breads had diminished since a couple of days ago. The Sun warmed her face as she emerged from her house. The morning sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. However, her bicycle was less cheerful. A flat tire greeted her, deflating more than just a rubber. A sigh escaped her lips as she abandoned her bicycle. She walked along the cobblestones street with a crochet shopping bag on her shoulder.

A horde of people gathered near the main building, their attention riveted to a poster on the wall. Adeline pushed her way to the front and then saw a jarring image: a caricature of a couple caring for the land, representing the safety and the stability of France. They were threatened by wolves labeled Freemasonry, Jews and de Gaulle, supported by lies labeled a three-headed snake. The accompanying text in bold French lettering screamed of 'Leave Us in Peace.'

"The Germans are convincing everyone that they are the mortal enemy," Adeline said, her voice barely audible above the murmuring crowd.

Then, all heads turned as a column of gray-uniformed soldiers marched into view. They were very young. They had golden hair and rosy complexions. Beneath the wonderful July sky, they sang a song with an excellent voice:

Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein

Und das heißt, Erika

Curious faces appeared at all the windows. They were bemused by this unfamiliar choir. The young women watched the passing soldiers, their faces were unreadable. The mothers of prisoners or fallen soldiers quickly drew their curtains, shielding themselves from the sight. Far from it, behind one of the shutters was a disabled war veteran cursed at them with hatred, "I hope they drop dead!"

The singing and the tramp of the conquerors' boots faded into the distance.

Adeline heard the sudden roar of the black pickup truck. It braked sharply, reversed and then stopped with a jolt beside her. Pierre Courteau, her classmate in high school, leaned out of the window. His face was framed by thick, dark eyebrows and raven hair. He looked younger than his age but his brown eyes held the weight of the world. The villagers knew him as a skilled craftsman, who had been asked to hang a Swastika flag on the balcony of the German Headquarters.

"Bonjour," Pierre greeted her. "It's unusual to see you on foot. Where's your bicycle?"

"The back tire was flat so I have to go to the grocery on foot."

"Hop in. I'll drive you there."

A grateful smiled touched her lips as she climbed into the truck. The engine coughed to life and the wind whistled along the curves of the truck.

"I heard you got the German officer billeted in your house," Pierre said. "Is he troublesome?"

"He behaves well," Adeline replied, his voice hesitant. "I guess it's a mere show of politeness."

"I saw him once near the Château," Pierre continued, his gazed fixed on the road. "He was with a viscount and a high-ranking officer. He was interpreting, explained his superior's presence here. I suppose."

"It's been a month I haven't spoken a word to him."

"I feel for you. Living with the enemy is very hard. It's a slow strangulation of freedom," Pierre said resentfully. "We're all slaves, Adeline. They force us to submit to them. They forbid us to keep any firearms, have a radio, and refuse German currency. Moreover, you'll be sentenced to death if you get caught aiding British spies or citizens of countries which were their enemies."

Adeline shivered. "It's abominable."

A flicker of defiance crossed Pierre's face. "I still have my hunting rifle."

Adeline gasped, her eyes wide with fear, "Pierre! What if the Germans find it?"

"It's safe," Pierre reassured her, a hint of smile playing on his lips. "It's hidden in the turnip hut. Plenty of straws are also there. They won't find it."

"I hope you're right."

"Speaking of hiding things," Pierre chuckled. "Do you remember when the Germans marched into Noyers? They were going around the French houses to billet their officer. My neighbor said they were terrified of Tuberculosis. Well, When the German NCO arrived at my door, I launched into my performance. Every time he spoke, my coughs completely drowned him out. He fled, crossing my name off the list faster than he could say 'Heil Hitler!"

Adeline and Pierre burst into laughter that their whole bodies shook.

The truck rumbled past the old stone houses. They were made of yellow limestone that in sunlight took on the color of golden wheat. From a distance, the French flag fluttered proudly in front of one of those houses. Adeline and Pierre saw a German soldier barking orders at the homeowner who was forced to lower it.

"The Germans consider flying the French flag as an act of resistance," Adeline said.

"If I were him," Pierre said, his jaw tightening, "I would raise that flag again."

Adeline's heart pounded. "Are you thinking of joining the French resistance?"

Pierre nodded his head, his gaze unwavering. "France will be free. I'll never let the French become a dog, forever trotting at the heels of the Germans."

After a short drive, they arrived at a bustling grocery. Pierre noticed the growing line in front of the store. "Hurry!" Pierre urged, his eyes filled with concern. "Or you'll go home empty-handed."

Adeline thanked him, jumping out of the truck. As she joined the queue, she glanced back at Pierre. His face was shadowed but she saw a glint of determination in his eyes - a promise of defiance.