SUCCESS ATTAINED
-MICHAEL CROUCH
He walked down to the local Starbucks on the early morning of June 15th. The morning was warm, the sky blue, and the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon.
It was an important day in Will Hemstein's life. He was to meet with his literary agent to discuss the book he was working on. He hoped to get published. He would find out this morning if he would.
He had been writing for ten years. His persistence at the craft, the hours devoted to improving his skill, and the many more devoted to the revision of his works, had made him confident in his abilities to get a book deal. He was sure it would happen today.
He entered Starbucks. There were only a few people in the room. The cashier and the waitress were busy preparing for the day, and there was a young couple at the back of the room. They were sipping their coffees, oblivious to his presence. His agent had not yet arrived.
He went up to the cashier and ordered a large coffee. It was a habit he couldn’t break. He drank 3 or 4 cups every day. He took a seat in the middle of the room so his agent wouldn’t miss him when he entered. He sipped at his coffee watching the clock on the wall ahead of him, and waited.
Then the agent came through the door. He was a man dressed in a plain suit and tie. He had brown hair and a rather ordinary clean shaven face. He nodded to Will then turned to the cashier to order. He came back and took a seat with Will. He had ordered a coffee as well.
“Morning Will,” Ernie said.
“Morning,” he replied. “How are things going?”
“Great actually. That’s why I’m here today,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ll make this short and simple. You got your first book deal. Congratulations.”
Will smiled. The hard work had paid off, the deal was his. The book was his ticket to a bright future. He was ecstatic.
“You don’t know how much this means to me Ernie,” he replied. “It’s been my dream to be a published author.
“I know. That’s why I came to meet you in person. I wanted to see the look on your face when I told you the great news,” Ernie said.
“Well it’s good to know you got something out of the deal,” he said, laughing.
“Well a bit more then that actually Will. We both did. As your agent I’m entitled to 5% of your 250,000 signing bonus. We’re just waiting on your signature”
“Did you just say 250,000!” he replied “You’ve got to be kidding me”
“Nope,” Ernie replied laughing. “It’s all yours Will. You wrote an amazing piece of work.
He couldn’t find the words to reply. He was shocked. He had never expected that kind of money. He knew what it meant though. A better life. The kind of life he deserved.
He pulled himself together. He needed to tell his mother the good news. She deserved to know right away.
“Do you mind if I cut this meeting short Ernie? I want to tell my family the good news.”
“Nope, the day is yours to do with as you please Will. It’s going to get quite busier in the days ahead though”
“Thanks Ernie,” he said.
He stood up and shook his agent’s hand.
“I’ll talk you soon.”
“Yep, count on it Will.”
Leaving Starbucks, he walked back home, an extra spring in his step. The news was great, he had made it. He was a success. His future was wide open.
He walked the last quarter mile and arrived at his home. The house he lived in was run-down. The grass was overgrown, the bushes were in need of trimming, and the house was in need of a new paint job. The peeled paint was clearly visible.
He entered the house and went directly to the living room. The room was simple. A couple couches provided seating area and the TV was placed on a small entertainment center against the main wall of the room. The two paintings hanging up on the wall were cheap, but helped in the appearance of the room.
His mom was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. She sat up when he came into the room. She knew how important this meeting was to him.
“Will,” she said excitedly. “How did it go?”
“I got the deal mom,” he replied laughing. “I did it.”
Wordlessly, she sprang, arms wrapping around him in a Congratulatory hug.
“I knew you’d do it Will. You worked so hard, so long, and you stuck with your dream. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks mom. I owe a lot to you. You encouraged me to stick with it.”
“Well, that’s what a mother should do,” she replied.
They parted and sat down on the living room coach. He noticed that his mother was perspiring. Her hair was matted down from the sweat. It was odd. It wasn’t hot inside.
“Are you feeling alright Mom? Do you have a fever?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’ve just been a little light headed this morning,” she replied. “Anyway what’s the next step?”
“I have some paper work to do at my agents. I have to sign a few documents before I can cash in on my 250,000 signing bonus.”
“Oh my goodness,” she said. “That’s a lot of money Will.”
“I know, and I had the same look on my face that you have when Ernie told me. Surprising huh?”
“Yep, I’m happy for you.”
”Thanks.”
“Anyway, I’m going to go out and tell some other people. Are you going to be alright? You should get some sleep. You’re looking pale.
“I was just about to. Have fun Will.”
He got up and started to leave. His mom immediately closed her eyes. She was obviously a lot sicker then she had let on. He walked out of the house quietly, and went to tell his friends of his success.
*************************************************************************************************
The next three months went by fast. The paper work and meetings with his publishers took up a lot of his time. He proved to be up to the task though. Hard work wasn't new to him.
His press release was scheduled for 9:30am this morning and he was running late. He had been partying last night. He was partying almost every night now. The girls were hot, and they were all attracted to his new wealth. They were a nice perk. A symbol of his new status and he took advantage of it.
His mother disapproved. He had visited her a month ago and told her of his new life and his new responsibilities. She said she was happy for him.
She had looked sick at that visit. Her face was still pale, her lips were thin, and bags were evident under her eyes. He expressed his worry, but she had shrugged off his concern. She was just sick temporarily.
It was 9:45am now as he entered the building. He took the elevator to the publishing house on the 8th floor. He got out and saw his agent talking to the reporters in the lounge area. There were six of them, all from various newspapers and literary magazines.
Ernie saw him and excused himself momentarily from the group. The disapproval was evidently displayed across his face.
“You’re late Will. These people have been waiting for the last twenty minutes.”
“I know, sorry Ernie. I had a late night. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t. Let’s go and meet with these people now.”
He followed Ernie’s lead. He was introduced to the assorted editors and journalists. He extended firm handshakes and apologies for the late showing and it seemed to work. Everyone got excited and questions about his book started to be thrown around. He was momentarily set back by the sudden onslaught.
“People, people, please,” Ernie interrupted. “If you would follow me, I have set aside our conference room for the meeting. It’s better suited for this venue, and all your questions will be answered shortly.”
They followed Ernie into the conference room. The place was large. It held a big oak table with chairs to seat 20 or 30 people. On the table were copies of his book that would be handed out as parting gifts. The walls were decorated with various book covers of the companies already published authors.
He took a seat beside Ernie.
“Now that we’re all seated, I would like to formally introduce you all to Will Hemstein. As you all know, his book has been met with literary praise, and we are assembled here today to answer all of your questions pertaining to the book. Will, is there anything you wanted to say before we begin?”
“Just that I’m happy to be here to answer your questions,” he said to the group.
“Alright, let’s take it to the floor then,” Ernie replied.
“Mr. Hemstein,” a reporter wearing glasses said. “What is like to be published, and is there anyone who was pivotal to your success.
“It’s like waking up to a dream.” He replied. “It’s nice to have something to show for all the hard work I’ve put in.”
“And is there anyone you want to contribute the success of your book to? An editor perhaps or family member,” Said the reporter.
“No,” he replied laughing. “I had to go at it alone. No editors, no help. It was just my motivation, my desire to get published that was the burning desire I needed to give me a push in the right direction.”
The statement wasn’t accurate. His mother had been supportive, had encouraged him to pursue his gift, but he needed to be strong. A strong personality sells. The money would be better. It was worth it.
He then proceeded to answer questions swiftly, but confidently. His skills in conversation were good, and he soon won over the people in the room. They believed in his story. They believed in him.
His editor got up at the end of the press release and bid everyone a good day. Future interviews were promised, if needed, and if there were any further questions he would be happy to answer them at a later date.
Ernie approached him, a smile on his face.
“You did well Will. You sold yourself brilliantly.”
“Thanks. Let’s hope it brings in some good money.”
“I’m sure it will,” Ernie replied.
“By the way your mother called the officer before you arrived. She has something she needs to tell you. I think it’s important”
“I’ll make sure to give her a call later tonight when I have the time. I have a busy schedule today.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow Ernie.”
“Yep, until then.”
He then walked out of the room, took the elevator to the ground floor and hurried to his car. He had lunch plans. The girl he met at a party last night was meeting him. She was attractive and smart, and wanted to get to know him. Of course she would. He was a published author, successful and wealthy.
He thought of his mother. She hadn’t called him lately. He had noticed things between them were more distant now. Perhaps she was intimidated by his success. He thought it was stupid if she was. He was the same man he had always been.
Later that night, with a woman still in his arms, he went to his hotel and made love. He would phone his mom when he had some free time. For now, he wanted to enjoy all the perks that his success entailed
*************************************************************************************************
He was driving with Amanda to his mom’s home two months later. Amanda was his current girlfriend. They had been dating for a couple months. She had long brown hair, blue eyes, and a pretty face. She was very delicate.
They were driving to his mom’s because he wanted to surprise her. He had just bought her a new home. It was his way of apologizing for not talking to her for the last 3 months. He was mildly ashamed of the fact. His girlfriend didn’t understand why. Parents and their children naturally drifted apart when they became adults. He was beginning to agree.
He pulled up to his mom’s home. The place was in worse condition since he had last been there. The yard and bushes were completely overgrown now.
They got out of his car and walked to the door. He knocked and was greeted by a sober looking man in his middle years. He was taken back that his mother wasn’t there.
“Hello,” the man said.”
“Hi,” he replied, getting control of himself. “I’m looking for my mother. She still lives here right?”
“Of course. I’m just the health care aide.”
“Health care aide?”
“That’s right. If you would follow me.”
He was worried now. His mother was obviously sick.
“Wait in the car for me Amanda.”
“Sure sweetie. Don’t be long though. We’ve got reservations at the Sizzle tonight.”
He knew. It was a high class restaurant. It didn’t matter though. How could she say that when his mother was sick.
He followed the man upstairs and into his mother’s bedroom and saw her there in bed. She was bald. She looked pale, her lips thin. She was asleep, oblivious to the fact that he just entered the room.
“I’ll leave you with her now,” said the aide. “I was just stopping by to drop-off her medication. Let her sleep.”
He nodded to the man as he left. He took up a seat on the stool at the side of her bed and waited.
She looked so fragile. Her arms were resting peacefully at her side. Her head was propped up by half a dozen pillows.
She woke up a few minutes later and her eyes came to rest on his.
“Will darling. It’s so good to see you.”
“Mom,” he replied, a falter in his voice.
It was as much as he could say. Tears were in his eyes
His mom reached up to him, her pale, skinny arms wrapping around him, consoling him.
“It’s ok Will, don’t cry. There, there.”
He clung to her. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to be by her side to help her.
He was about to say as much and was interrupted by the car horn honking outside. His girlfriend was getting impatient. She didn’t care that his mother was sick. She cared only about herself and about the lifestyle she was living. Will realized she was a spitting image of himself.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Short Story - Success Attained
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Short Story - Family
-MICHAEL CROUCH
Jack arrived home from work,and his brother was there to greet him. He still looked sleepy eyed. He must have just woken up. It was 6:30 in the afternoon.
“Hey jack, what’s up? How was work?” asked Steve
“Not bad,” I replied. The same old stuff. You know how it is.”
“Yea.”
But Steve did not. It was unusual for him to be up at this time. He would be watching TV at night, or making the one meal he had everyday at the same time. It was always spaghetti. He would never eat anything else. His hours were not that of the working man. Jack was always worried about him.
“So what's up with you,” he asked Steve jokingly. The joke was a tradition. He made the jab whenever they talked to each other. It was because he didn’t do much during the day.
“I’m looking for a job Chris.”
“Yea?”
“Yea, I could use some help.”
Obviously it wasn’t a joke this time.
“What do you have in mind Steve?” he asked. “I’ll help in any way I can.”
“Well thanks. I was hoping maybe to find any job really. Something that will let me earn a little bit of money.”
“Hm, well there’s got to be something. Give me a sec to think.”
He paced around his living room now. He felt unmistakable pride in his brother just then. Steve had never wanted to find a job before. He must want to step up and start being productive. It made him very proud.
But what of this job. Perhaps he could make a phone call to one of his friends. They might have something for him. Maybe. Yes, that was a good idea.
“Steve,” he yelled, “I think I can arrange something with a friend. Are you sure you’re ok to work? I mean really sure?”
“Yea,” replied Steve. “I really am this time. I need to do something”
My curiosity was too great to ignore.
“Why Chris?”
“Why what,” he replied. He was obviously confused.
“I mean why the sudden need to do something?”
“Oh, no reason”, he said a little too hastily. “Say do you want some spaghetti?”
Now this was something. Steve never ate spaghetti at this time. He must have really spooked him. He needed to find out why.
“Yea. You know what, I’m starving, so lets eat”
And so they prepared spaghetti. Chris wasn’t allowed to help. His brother was very conscientious about germs. That was fine. Chris understood.
They sat down to eat. His brother had a knack at making spaghetti. Just the right amount of parmesan cheese. It was delicious.
“Jesus Steve, you have a knack for making this stuff.”
“It comes from practice,” Steve laughed. “You know that.”
“I guess I do”
They finished eating and Steve insisted on doing the dishes. Another surprise. Steve never did other people’s dishes. Too many germs. His curiosity continued to grow.
“Steve, you’ve been a wonder tonight. The spaghetti was great, the dishes clean. I’ve never seen you like this before”
“I know, I decided I want to change” Steve replied. “It’s time I start doing things”
“You know you don’t have to Steve” Chris said.
“Well, you’ve been taking care of me,” Replied Steve. ”It’s time I start doing things for myself. Things for you too.”
He was shocked. This was a side he had not seen in his brother for a long time.
Steve pressed on. He wanted to express himself more.
“You know that since the accident I haven’t been the same, but still, I can do things. Maybe not as good as you, but still things.”
“Yes, I know Steve.”
He knew, but he wanted to forget. Mom and father dead, little Jessie had flown through the window and died on impact. It was just him and his brother now. Chris didn’t want to ever lose him.
His brother’s condition had been deteriorating over the past years. The brain damage had been severe, the memory loss from the accident severe. His behavior had changed, the doctors suggested it might, and although it had, he was still his brother, the one he loved, and the one he would always support. Steve would do the same if the situation was reversed. He was trying right now.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
The path of war is not glories road - A Short-Story
The path of war is not glories road
“Get out,” his mother said sharply, taking a threatening step towards the German Soldiers who had invited themselves into their home.
John, taking it all in from the peep-hole behind the wall, noticed that there were four of them. The one in front was obviously an officer from the decoration adorning his uniform, and the other three looked like the common soldier, clean shaven and uniforms void of any merit that would have distinguished them otherwise. The faces of these men were rather ordinary, but each had in their eyes knowledge that had hardened them to the realties of the war they were fighting. Not a good bunch to be dealing with. He knew all about those realties.
Looking behind him, he checked out his little sister. Her face was stricken with tears, and her tiny hand was clutching the back of his shirt. She was holding on hard, his shirt pulled tightly back against his chest, and he still felt the nail marks she had left when she first grabbed a hold of him. She was as silent as a mouse, and he understood why.
He really wanted to forget. He had been away that day working for Mr. Johnson. A strong back had been needed to help hoe a particularly rough patch of ground on the southern portion of the farm, and it had taken most of the day to complete the work. Upon arriving home, he had been quickly educated on what German soldiers did to Jewish Women. Marie had not been able to keep silent in the cubby hole that day, and to the delight of the Germans, both were raped, brutally.
She was never the same after that. She never spoke to him anymore. She never ate. It was anguishing to watch someone you loved so much, in so much pain. She refused to let him help her, and instead she dealt with the situation in her own little way.
Looking around the room, he saw the officer approach, eyes taking in his mothers form. He wanted to squeeze the man’s neck. Boldly stepping close, the German reached down with his hands and lifted his mother’s long skirt up to expose her under-garments. The man leaned close to her and said something he couldn’t make out, but the intent was all to clear. She immediately slapped the German’s hand away and retreated a few steps to the end of the wall.
“No,” she cried, her voice sharp and loud.
Her face took on an iron resolve, hands held protectively against her breasts. She knew what the Officer wanted, and looked ready to resist. O, how he wanted to help her resist.
The Officer would have none of it. Striding up, he grasped her wrists and flung her violently onto the table. Two of the soldiers leapt forward grabbing her arms. Taking position at opposite sides of the table, they held her down so that she was in a prone position. The officer, unbuckling his pant and hiking up his mother’s long skirt, thrust his way violently into her. She gasped sharply from the pain as the German relentlessly assaulted her.
“Stupid Jew,” the officer said, completely absorbed in his task.
“This is what we do to filthy Jews like you.”
His mind screeched with the need to act, to come to the defense of his mother who was being brutalized in such a manner. Silent tears coming to his face, he knew that he could not. He would expose his sister. He seethed with violent intent, and wished he hadn’t been coxed into this box before the soldiers came.
He caught a glimpse of the fourth soldier, hanging back at the door, expression vacant, but he was clearly displeased with the action by the way he crossed his arms and looked outside. The man looked no older then twenty, but the eyes clearly betrayed the youth that was evident in his rosy red cheeks and thick set of blonde hair. He couldn’t help but notice the blue eyes. He had very big, blue eyes.
The man was a bloody coward. How dare he pretend his mother was not being raped. She was right there, in front of the man. He was almost as worst as the other three, and his mind seethed at the way he could be so indifferent.
Suddenly, the man’s eyes fixed squarely on the peep-hole. The blue-eyed German was staring straight at him. The man’s expression grew startled for a moment, but then he quickly resumed his old vacant features as he stood, staring out the door once again.
The man knew he was there obviously, and John quickly re-thought his opinion of the man. Maybe he was just making the best of the situation he was thrust into? He hoped the man wouldn’t change his mind and un-cover them. There’s was not much any person could do against four men.
Properly cowed, but still inwardly furious, he took his sister in his arms and covered her ears with both of his hands. Her tiny arms snaked around his body firmly as he held her tightly, hoping the men would soon finish.
He was part of the resistance now. The treatment of his family, the abhorrent murder of thousands of French civilians was too much for him to handle. He was only 16, but he could hold a rifle. H could fire his gun. He needed something, anything to make him feel like he had a chance to make a difference. He didn’t want to be the next innocent civilian picked up off the streets and sent to one of those camps. There were all sorts of stories about them. He fought for his family, his sister.
He was accepted into the Maquis, for which he was grateful. The chance had finally come for him to finally do something against the Germans. The Maquis were a hard bunch of men, but he knew they fought for the right reasons. It was those reasons he kept firmly in his mind when he saw what they did to the German officer they captured a couple days ago. It was brutal. They had gauged out his eyes, and mutilated his body. He had listened to the cries of pain distantly, not willing to allow himself to feel anything over a murderer. They deserved what they got, they all did. That officer was going to be hung up on a pole, as an example to all Germans who would kill our Mothers, our sisters.
He was marching along a beaten path towards their first objective. They were going to blow up a mining operation about 5kms east of their current location. The mine was set to receive a contingent of 500 German civilians to work the mines. They were to set the charges, wait for the trains to enter the mines, and detonate. He and another Maquis member were to take up a position 1 km out and stop any patrols from discovering their current operations.
They had gotten reports that the Germans had increased security over the rail lines. He guessed that after numerous successful attacks, the Germans were reeling from the lack of equipment and food resources that the resistance had either taken control of or destroyed. They had also gotten reports of the swift retaliation in response to such attacks. Civilians in the vicinity of any attack on the rail lines were often rounded up and killed in response to their operations.
Looking up from the path they were walking, he saw Mr. Johnson signal to stop. Mr. Johnson had joined up before him. His wife had been rounded up for “looking like a Jew”, and sent to one of those rumored camps they sent people to in
“John, Mitch, to the front,” he ordered softly.
Walking up, he felt nervous. Most would, and he was no exception.
“Alright you two, take up position overseeing the tracks about 1 mile east of here. It will be another 15 minutes to your destination. Keep your eyes sharp, but don’t give away your position unless absolutely necessary. We don’t want to alert German authorities to our presence here”
It sounded like good advice, but he was hesitant.
“Sir,” he said, “What happens if we encounter troops that we can’t hide from?”
“Then you bloody well better finish them off before they have a chance to radio out”
“This operation is important John; we can’t risk any chance of failure”
“Right,” he replied, bolstered by the man’s self-confidence.
Starting off in the direction of the tracks purposefully, he nevertheless glanced back quickly to re-assure himself that Mitch was following him. He didn’t want to be out here alone, and after-all, two eyes were a hell of a lot better then one, and he wished fervently that it would be enough to spot any movement in the night.
They were following a beaten path, and he surmised that it must have been an old road used by local farmers to lead back in to the nearest village. The general direction was right, so he thought he was probably right. Along either side of the path, the trees and brush made it hard for him to see more then 15 feet to either side. There was a light fog engulfing their surroundings, a mist that covered the surrounding area making it even more difficult to see. It was the best thing that could have happened. It would be hard to spot anyone in these conditions, and it bode well for their safety on this night.
Mitch was right beside him now, probably drawn closer by the danger that they both were facing together. Mitch was a year younger then him, and judging by the expression on his face, and his gait, a hell of a lot more nervous. His eyes were constantly shifting, from left to right, and he walked jerkily as if every step would be his last.
“You think we’ll be alright Chris,” he asked
“It looks awfully good for an ambush”
“Don’t you worry about that,” John replied, abruptly.
He was in no mood to coddle anyone. A soldier needed to be strong, hard. Stupid questions like that showed lack of strength, a lack of will that would get them killed.
“Just watch my right, I got your left. We do this job quick and good, alright?”
“Alright,” Mitch replied, with a shaky smile.
Well, that was something anyway. Mitch was younger then him, and he knew the situation might be a little more difficult for him to handle. He was only a year older, but he had been through a lot. He had learned to be steel that wouldn’t bend. Tears were for later. Now, that just had to stay alive.
Spotting the tracks up ahead, he silently raised his hand up sharply, signaling an immediate halt. He directed Mitch to a spot on his right, covered in bush that would be perfect concealment for lookout. Five yards up ahead, he stationed himself behind a stump of a tree. It was a perfect spot. An un-obstructed view of the railway-lines.
Time drifted by, moving slowly as he tried to stay alert. The coffee that was provided before they set out helped to stay awake, but it didn’t help that much. Looking out at the lines, he noticed that part of the tracks had recently been replaced. It must have been from one of the previous attacks made to disrupt the rail lines. It was an interesting contrast when viewed from his location.
Still staring ahead, lost in thought, he was unprepared for the two Germans who came into view. He had not heard them approach, and glancing behind him quickly, neither had Mitch. The two soldiers were alert, cautious in their every step. They must have known of the dangers of guard duty along these tracks. The Maquis had killed many of them
He motioned for Mitch to take aim on the German on the far right, as took the one on the left. He was about to give the signal to fire, when he noticed blue eyes. Big, startling blue eyes from the soldier he was taking aim at. It was the man from his mother’s rape!
John couldn’t believe it. The chances that he would ever encounter this man again were flimsy at best, and now he was within shooting distance of one of the guys who had committed that brutal rape of his mother.
Seconds went by, his fingers on the trigger of his rifle, barrel of his gun pointed squarely at the man. He was hesitant because this was the man who had spared his sister of the rape had he turned them in. There was no choice to make though. He could not allow him to proceed further and jeopardize the mission. His comrade’s lives were at stake. Taking aim, he fired.
The bullet sizzled through the air with deadly accuracy hitting the blue-eyed young man in the shoulder. As if on queue, Mitch, on his right, brought down his man on the right with quick, rapid bursts of his rifle. In seconds it was over. The brief, violent encounter had ended.
Leaving his concealment after a few moments to make sure that they were safe he walked up to the Blue-eyed German who was clutching at his wound, and face deathly pale. On first glance, the wound looked alright. It had penetrated straight through the shoulder so he was going to be alright. A piece of cloth would be needed to stem the flow of blood.
What a predicament he was in. What was he going to do with the man? He couldn’t just leave him, he was the enemy. This man would put the mission at risk, and furthermore, this man knew who he was and where his family lived. He couldn’t take the chance that this man would keep his mouth shut.
Realizing his intent when his rifle came up, the German looked up at him, hands coming imploring up to the barrel of his gun, he spoke haltingly in French
“Please no,” he said, as his hand came up lightly to touch the barrel of the rifle.
“Please, spare my life, I don’t wish to die. I’m a good person.”
And he knew he knew he had his way out. This man didn’t recognize him! Turning his rifle around, he struck out with precision, hitting the man squarely across the forehead with the butt of his rifle. The man toppled over instantly as he lost consciousness.
“Tie him up Mitch. Make sure you gag him; we don’t want any Germans finding him until after the operation is over. And check to make sure the bleeding has stopped.”
“But Chris, we can’t keep him alive.”
“Just do what I say Mitch,” he growled, cutting off the argument before it proceeded any further.
He wasn’t in the mood to give any reasons. He wasn’t in the mood to fight. He just wanted this night to end so he could go home. After the German was tied up and the other body thrown into a nearby ravine, they carried man to a location back in the brush where he was hidden, and continued their surveillance of the tracks. They didn’t have long now until the mission was over, and they were going to complete their task and move out before the Germans had any clue as to what they were doing.
Morning, September 26thth, 1941
The mission was a success. The charges had been laid, and set off with organized precision. The contingent carrying over 500 German workers were trapped underneath a cave in. They weren’t expected to live long. The blast had been immense, and those not crushed by the sub-sequent cave in would probably die when the remaining pockets of air were used up. A decisive victory had been won for the allies, and he had been a part of it.
He permitted himself a smile or two when he arrived back at their place of refuge. Drinks were handed out and he took one to pay homage to the two men they had lost. Mr. Johnson had been one of those men. That man was someone he highly respected, and he drowned his glass in remembrance to gruff, out-spoken man that had always looked out for him.
He spent the remainder of the night sleeping in one of the vacant coats provided by the Maquis and woke up early morning to make his way back home. He missed his family, and wanted to see his mother and sister. Since his father had died serving in the army, his family became much more important to him. He wanted to spend every moment with them that he was allotted.
About to set off, he was taken back when Mitch came barreling in with a wide-eyed look etched across his face. Mitch had left late last night, saying that he wanted to see his family right away. He was worried what Mitch being back represented, and glancing around, he noticed that the other men had looks of worry as well.
“The Germans, they they’ve taken the town,” he sputtered, not finding the words for that which he sought to speak.
Max Purdue, the eldest of the bunch, moved over to him quickly, putting a re-assuring arm on Mitch’s shoulder
“It’s alright Mitch,” Max said, walking him towards one of the vacant logs that by the fire they had going.
“Tell us what happened. The Germans have been in control of
“No, it’s not that,” stuttered Mitch.
“They have brought in a battalion of Germans, and they’ve rounded up everyone in my village. They’re killing my friends, my family, and they’re shipping off the women and children to the camps.”
Immediately, the whole room sprang into action, momentary diversions forgotten, rifles picked up and slung over shoulders. Most of these men had families in those villages. He did as well.
The Germans always met any attack on their own with swift and violent retaliation. Often, they killed two or three people for every German that was killed. They had killed 500.
He was unable to think any longer. His mother and sister were both in danger. With his rifle already slung over his shoulder, he, he dashed out of the encampment and on to the path that would lead him to his home. He heard the shouts of men saying it was too late, but he ignored them. He was going to find some way to get his family out of there.
The path he was on was well hidden from view, and it had made a perfect location to setup a Maquis camp. They were close to town and targets of interest, and the path helped them move quicker among the surrounding terrain. He was only 15 minutes away, and he thought that if he could get their in time, he might be able to get his family out. His mama and Marie were probably in the secret place they had made, safe from view and harm.
There was smoke coming from different locations in the sky now. The Germans must have launched attacks on other villages in the area as well. It looked like they were sparing no expense in their retaliation for last nights attacks. It meant that he had better get his family out quickly.
He reached the edge of the village, and threw his rifle away, not caring where it landed. He would be arrested on the spot, or perhaps openly fired upon if he entered with it slung across his shoulder. Best if he just arrived with his clothes and nothing else. Stealth was his best chance at saving his family.
He turned a corner leading into the town square and was surprised by what he saw. Bodies were everywhere. Most were lined up in military precision in rows along the center square. He was taken back by the way the amount of death.
He saw his friends in those neat, orderly lines and he sank to his knees vomiting uncontrollably. He couldn’t help himself. These were friends his age, most no older then 16 who were sprawled lifeless, arms rigid in the aftermath of death. There were so many. Through eyes that could shed no more tears, he stared on hopelessly, unable to act, unable to will himself to do anything.
A soldier was coming towards him. He didn’t care. He saw this soldier had blue eye, and indifferently realized it was the man he had decided not to kill yesterday. The Germans shoulder looked better, although his face was severally swollen from the hit with the rifle butt. The man’s arm was wrapped in a small sling, but he was still able to hold his rifle erect, a rifle that was now pointed at his chest.
With a jerk, the soldier motioned him to follow and they made their way past the town center towards the direction of his home. He acceded, and they walked a short distance until he was abruptly stopped with the butt of the man’s rifle. The man gestured towards a group of villagers that had formed up in to a line, and he got the point. They were going to shoot him. Oddly enough, the only thought that came to mind was at least he could see his home from here, and it looked like his family was still safe
Rudely, a shovel was thrust into his hand, and he was gestured to dig. He stared at the ground, shovel in hand, and realized they were asking him to dig his own grave. The other men understanding as well, reacted in different ways. Some pissed themselves, losing momentary control over their faculties, other were shaking violently, unable to hold on to their shovels. Rifles were cocked and aimed, and they all got the point fast. They picked up their shovels and they dug. They dug because they didn’t want to die.
He glanced once again at his home, and he saw movement coming from inside. He heard the screams of his family as they were discovered. NO, he could not allow this!
He threw his shovel at the blue-eyed soldier and made a dash towards his mom. He never made it..
The blue-eyed soldier was shaken by the events that had just occurred. He never expected this kid to make a run for it. The young man had seemed so tough, so cold harded when he had to beg for his life. He had dodged the shovel that was thrown at him, and fired because he couldn’t let the man go free. He had his order that he had to follow and couldn’t let him go.
He glanced back in the direction he had heard the screams come from. It was the home where his superior Officer had raped the Jewish women. It looked like they had found the cubby hole he had first spotted when they had arrived there. It must have been that little girl they were now leading out that he had seen looking back at him.
He shed a tear for her. The girl was going to be carted off to one of their brothels, and she was too young. It was a fate he would never have put on any child. He had a sister at home just like her, and he would have lost it if he saw his sister being taken away to be used as pleasure for other men.
Glancing back towards the line, he saw that the other townsmen had been sufficiently cowed at the death of the young men. They still had their shovels in hand, and they continued to dig. They were all so full of life, a life he was going to be ordered to end, and he wished there was some way he could stop it.
He knew he would never be the man he once was. He didn’t know how he could go back to his own life after this, with the things he had done, the people he had killed, but he wanted to try. He wanted to try for the family he had back home that cared about him, but he wanted to try most of all for his little sister who was so full of life and laughter. A life and laughter that was now being stripped away from that little girl being carted away.