Die große Flucht

  It was in summer in 1940, the German army have infiltrated the France’s border. A troop of soldiers could be seen marching along the country path, with one of them holding a Swastika flag with pride. Every villager hid in their homes in fear of getting killed by the German army and their fears turned into reality when they started shooting unarmed villagers. It was a gruesome massacre. Women and children were shot mercilessly by the Germs as if they were worth nothing. I, an eighteen- year- old boy named Alexander, watched in horror as one by one villager got slaughtered by those monsters under the cover of some bushes. I didn’t dare to say a word or even make a sound. The carnage was overwhelming and I started imagining the consequences that I would face if I was discovered. The least form of torture that crossed my mind was that I would be turned into a slave but that was the same as receiving a death sentence. I hid there for quite some time and I saw the endless number of soldiers marching towards Normandy and also the Panzer tanks with the Nazi symbol driven on the muddy path.

  For four consecutive hours I stayed under cover until the coast was clear. I went back to my house to see if my family was alright. During my walk to the house, I could see the walls of the houses filled with holes caused by the bullets from the MP40 rifles that the Germs used as their main weapon of choice. The high calibre rifle was the second reliable weapon during the Second World War era after the Thompson gun used by the Americans. I arrived at my house and I was relieved that it looked unscathed. I entered my house and whisper in an audible tone to see if there were people in my house. “Thump, thump”, I could hear thumping sounds coming from the attic so I went upstairs to check it out. Suddenly, a lifeless body fell on the stairs I was walking on. I was appalled but when I checked whose body it was. It appeared to be the dead body of a Germ soldier. When I raised my head to see who dropped the body, I saw my muscular dad standing above me. I ran to him and gave him a hug and he did the same. I asked him where was mom and my two brothers. He said that they were in the attic, traumatized by the events that had happened. “What actually happened dad? Why were the Germs crossing our borders? And how did this ignoramus ended up in our house?” I showered him with a lot of answers. “A war, I supposed. About this guy, he wandered off into our house so I snapped his neck while he was unaware of my presence”, he said to me. The word “War” gave me the cold shivers. It was an obvious fact when I remembered about the marching soldiers and the fleet of Panzer tanks entering our village. I looked at the dead soldier’s face and felt like giving him a hard kick to the head but that would be an uncivilised act so I took his MP40 rifle and his sidearm. I also found six grenades in his pouch. Being an experienced hunter, my father did not worry about me holding firearms but he told me to be wary of the grenades because I had never used them once. My father was a World War I veteran and he knew many things associated with the army. My mom and brothers came down to see what was happening and they cried when they saw me. I could assume that they thought that I was dead because I was outside when the massacre happened but I didn’t care about it. It was good for them to know that I was fine.

            My father and I went outside after a few hours to see if there were survivors. Our neighbour’s house was torn apart by the grenades and the interior of the house was as black as charcoal. “Louis. Louis”, I tried to call my neighbour to see if he was in there but then my father said that he went to Paris this week so he must still be there. We walked into every house and there were no survivors whatsoever. We found headless bodies of the men of our village scattered around the village. The sight was unbearable but my dad had seen this sight before during World War I. “The Germs are still merciless as they were twenty six years ago” he muttered. Then, we heard a cry from beneath the cellar of Mr and Mrs Le Font’s house. I opened the cellar’s door and saw Isabella, the daughter of the couple sitting in the dark cellar with a gun in her hand. I hold my hand to her and she grabbed it. I pulled her up and consoled her. She was my childhood friend and was also one of my classmates in our school and she was a beauty. “What happened to your parents?” my father asked. “They got killed. They acted as baits and tried to attract the soldiers that were approaching our house. They sacrificed themselves for me”, said Isabella in a sad tone of voice. The situation was critical as the country will be involved in a massive war with the German nation under the rule of Adolf Hitler, the Third Reich. My father thought about the possibilities of escaping France and the ominous war so he told me to tell mom to pack our belongings. “We will go to the coast and find a boat that will set sail to neutral countries. I have a friend there who owns a big boat, big enough to carry us to America or Britain”, my dad said. I had no room to argue with his suggestion so I did as I was told. Isabella followed me to my house while dad scavenged for anything useful that can be used.

            As the night came, everybody was ready to leave the village and go to the coast. We were lucky that my father found Old Jean’s seven horses were still alive in their stable. Six of them were used as our ride while the seventh horse was used as a carrier horse. We rode passed the countryside at a tremendous speed. Every town and village that we passed through was abandoned but there were still foods such as bread and fruits left at the store. We were blessed even though a war was coming. Nonetheless, we still kept our guard up. Our supplies increased and it could keep us alive for two months. Twelve days had passed since the attack on our village and we were approximately five miles from the nearest shore. My father’s friend’s house was not very far now. We kept on riding our horses but we didn’t forget to stop and rest our horses. We fed them apples and various fruits that we plucked at an orchard that we passed by. If there was a stream or billabong, we would bathe them to keep them cool. Isabella was closed to her horse, Storm. She would pet her regularly and checked her health.

             After several hours, we finally arrived at my father’s friend’s house. It was not attacked by the Germs because it was isolated by a thick forest and dangerous bog pit. Only my father knew the way there. Me and my father approached his house carefully with our guns ready to shoot if anything went wrong. We knocked on his door and it opened, we quickly aimed at whoever opened the door and the person quickly raised his hands. It was my father’s friend, Pierre. We gave a sigh of relief to see that he was still alive. He looked furious at us for pointing guns at his face but we explained everything to him, to let him know that we did that for a purpose. He was shocked to know the truth of what was happening to France at that time. He lived as a fisherman in isolation for a long time after the First World War ended so he didn’t interact much with the outside world. He lived alone and didn’t have any kid. We asked him if his boat was still working and he nodded. Plus, he said that he installed a new engine that he bought from a naval factory a month ago so it could sail at fast speed and there were two large drums filled with enough fuel to sail to America or Canada. Everybody was delighted and we planned to leave France tomorrow morning. We planned to sail to either Halifax in Nova Scotia or to New York. The journey may take about three months but if God wills it, the time taken for us to arrive would be lesser than the initial estimation. We unloaded all of our stuff from the horses and entered Pierre’s house. It was a traditional French-style house and it was spacious. It had been a few days since we last bathe so we decided to bathe there. After an enjoyable bath, Isabella and my mom went to make dinner and my brothers were fast asleep. I went outside for a stroll near the shore. The zephyr calmed me as I tried to get my thoughts together. After the initial attack, I haven’t seen any Germs but the traces of their destructive behaviour could be seen everywhere; the town, villages and orchards. Not a single civilian or villagers survived and if there was, suicide may be their last option to escape from the war. Suddenly, as I was looking at the English Strait, I saw a large fleet of boats coming from the North West. A Swastika flag could be seen waving on top of one of the boat’s pole. “The Germs, they’re here”, I watched in horror as one by one soldier exited the boats. They were going in the opposite direction from Pierre’s house but the danger still remained so I ran to inform dad and the others. The plan has changed and we were going to sail to New York that very night.

            We loaded everything in Pierre’s boat and we released our horses so that they could go back to being wild horses like their ancestors. I felt sad releasing my horse but not as sad as Isabella. After a last kiss, Storm was set free and he ran into the forest. Minutes later, the boat’s engine ignited. We set sail under the cover of darkness to avoid from getting caught by the Germs. Heavily equipped with MG42 machine guns, we were outmatched in terms of firepower so a fire battle with them was a no-no. “Bang!!!” my rifle suddenly shot a round into the air and alerted the Germs that were using the beach as a temporary base. The trigger mechanism of my rifle must have been damaged. The machine-gunner quickly shot several rounds at the waters and some bullets almost hit our boat but we were lucky that the darkness act as a cloak to us, making us invisible to their views. Pierre accelerated the boat and we managed to get out of there unscathed.

            

 For three and a half months out on the Northern Atlantic Ocean, we faced many problems along the way; storms, rogue waves and even the burning ray of the sun. Our supplies were almost gone so we have to fish for food. Pierre was an experienced fisherman and he helped us a lot in catching the fishes. My relationship with Isabella also blossomed along the way to New York. Three days later, we were only five nautical miles from the shore and we could see the Statue of Liberty from our boat. The statue was a gift from France and my brothers suddenly cry. They missed their country, our country, but because of the war, we were forced to escape from there.  We reached the island of Manhattan early in the morning and we were shocked to know that America was also involved in the war; fighting the Japanese empire in the western hemisphere and the Germans in Europe. Pierre suggested that we all rest for the day after several months of being in the boat and we all agreed but we didn’t have any money so Pierre, dad and me decided to look for jobs.

             Our life in America at first was terrible. We worked as labourers and our jobs were tough; carrying heavy loads on top of the steel frame of a building and even riveting the steel frames to strengthen the structure. It was a tiring job but our hard work finally paid off. We got enough money to buy a house and my dad was appointed as the new supervisor at the construction site because of being the most diligent and reliable worker. Six years had passed and the war was over. The German and its allies had lost in the war and Adolf Hitler was said to have committed suicide at his Reich Chancellery, ending the tyrannical reign of the Third Reich. Even though Europe was now peaceful, we didn’t want to go back there. Living in America was even better than in France because it would take years to rebuild the damaged sustained during the war. Our story of survival was undeniably amazing but we kept it to ourselves. We had survived the bloody massacre, rode on horses back to the coast and sailed to America using only a boat. Now, we resided in Manhattan and earned our American citizenship. Isabella and I were married and we have two daughters while my brothers migrated to Hollywood in California to search for a better future there.