Northern France, Tuesday: In 1940, my father was four, and a refugee, fleeing the Germans and their armies.
At the back of the cart, my uncles and father looked up at the sky and listened to each brother call; softly, they spoke of the dunes, the marsh and the perils of the road.
It had been three days since they had looked up and seen Stukas. They had looked like they had, flying, arms stretched out above the sea grass; each dropping a single bomb on the farm, between the pasture and the pond, showering the lilies with lead, thermite and rust.
Just then, they might have felt their fate between their fingers and their thumbs; but only when they slept could they see their hands grasp the blows and the bombs and hurl them back, forward, and further from the house. Slowly, inching their way forward, they could see better, and further; over the tiles, over the cows, over the farms. But a hand on their arms pulled hard, snatching them back and inside the safety of the stones and the barn.
And then it was slow, dark and cold. Not until a distant thud cloaked the silent farm again did it come; and with it, that puff of summer air whistled softly under the shuttered doors, carrying all the dust of a spider's web, the vapours, the ambers and the coals.
Mother had run to the kitchen to grab a couple of pots: three tomatoes, yeast, water and some yellow Gouda. She wanted to leave before the house burned to the ground, torched by their hands and those Germans. And the black soot fouled the wheat, the barley and the beets.
They cut the dogs loose and lashed them one last time, filled the bedroom chests, blankets and tablecloths with sweaters, boots, woollens and socks; attached the breastcollars and the reins, and whipped the ox towards the reeds and the swamps. And, upon the marsh's edge, the beast and its breath were soon left behind, the meat shared, and in, deeper they went...
Into these morasses my father fled, stopping only to stuff a few frog's eggs and his farm-boy frowns into the half-torn pockets of his apron and his pants.
To be continued...