Stranger at the Gates (33 page)

‘Let me help,' he said. The sun was up and it was growing warm. The time was six-twenty-three.

Inside the school Michelle Giffier formed the children into groups. There was a lot of crying, even among the older ones. Waking in their classrooms had unnerved them. The teacher organised the wailing little ones herself, helped by a few of the senior pupils. She took them to the lavatories, where she washed their faces and hoped that establishing a routine would calm them. Her own face was haggard and dirty; tears had dissolved her mascara and the split on her lip was now an ugly swelling. She found a hand-comb in her bag and began to tidy the children's hair, lining them up in front of her. Straggling bows were re-tied, frocks smoothed down, and hands inspected. An atmosphere of false security pervaded them, emanating from the slight young woman they had known all their lives.

She never glanced near the guard; the one who had manhandled her the night before had gone. A sullen robot stood in his place, his eyes staring at and through her and the children. She had a horrible sensation of being watched by a machine. It was obvious that he didn't regard her or them as human beings. The sensation was more frightening than the frank brutality of his predecessor. She beckoned Caroline Camier and Pierre Farrière.

‘Get the books out,' she said. She smiled at them both. The boy was twelve, sturdy and dependable, the eldest of five. His mother had been the woman shot outside the school the night before. He and Michelle Giffier knew nothing of this.

‘Since we're here, we might as well work. Caroline, you look after the little ones; set them some drawing to do. Pierre, we'll start with history. See that everyone starts at page twenty-seven of book three. St. Jeanne d'Arc. It was always my favourite lesson. Go on now.' Steadily she began to read aloud. The door opened after half an hour; she stopped and got up. The S.S. Major was approaching. She saw the children's eyes following him as he came to her desk. He saluted her.

‘Madame. In twenty minutes you must be ready to leave. Gather any clothes together and have the children ready.'

‘Leave?' Michelle Giffier went white. ‘Leave for where? What do you mean?'

‘You are being taken to a place of safety,' the Major said smoothly. ‘You have nothing to fear.'

It was the formula with which he had calmed anxious Jews, awaiting removal to the gas chambers. It didn't work with the school teacher. She supported herself on the desk with both hands and said loudly, ‘We are not going to any place of safety. Either you let my children go to their homes or we stay here.'

Her injured lip began to quiver; hate and terror brought the tears and they spilled down her face. The Major gave a little smile.

‘The outside of this building has been soaked in kerosene,' he said. ‘Within half an hour I shall order it to be set on fire. You may stay inside with the children if you wish. You have twenty minutes. Heil Hitler.' He gave a casual salute and turned away. Outside in the sunshine, he yawned. He had dozed in the back seat of the armoured car, but only for an hour or so and his temper was irritable. The cattle truck had arrived and waited at the station. Already a crowd of parents had returned to the school, reinforcing the group who had remained outside all night. The recitation of the rosary infuriated him. He had ordered his men to break up the kneeling group, but some distance away they had reformed, and the low murmur of voices rose and fell all night. He was waiting for the Standartenführer before he could actually load the children into the truck and take them to the station. He had sent the execution detail on ahead to Chemire, where they were waiting. It was all well organised and ingenious. He took his seat in the armoured car and settled down to wait for his superior.

Louise had fallen asleep; she lay on her bed fully dressed, so exhausted that she didn't hear the car arrive. A hand seized her shoulder and shook her. She woke instantly and saw Régine bending over her.

‘Wake up for God's sake!'

‘What are you doing here?' Louise blazed at her. ‘You filthy little bitch—get out!'

‘Where's Jean? Where is he?'

‘Why do you want to know? So you can tell your friend in the S.S.

‘It doesn't matter what you say to me,' Régine said. ‘Nothing matters but to help the children. That's why I've come. And keep your voice down. Vierken is downstairs!'

‘You brought him!' Louise looked at her in horror. ‘You brought him to St. Blaize! Well now you've done it, haven't you!' She turned away, overcome with despair. Jean and Savage were missing. If Vierken asked where they were …

‘Listen to me.' Régine caught hold of her arm. ‘Listen to me for the love of God! Minden came to the flat and brought Paul and Sophie—he told me what was happening! I came down to try and help. To plead with Vierken. He's my lover, I didn't believe he'd do anything to really hurt them.' She let go of Louise and hid her face in both hands. ‘They're not going to Germany,' she said. ‘They've dug a mass grave for them in the woods. They're going to be taken there this morning and murdered. I listened in on the telephone. He doesn't know I know.'

‘They're not taking them to Germany?' Louise stared into the girl's face; her eyes were wild. ‘They're going to kill them …'

‘I told you,' Régine hissed at her. ‘This morning. He's going down there now to send them off. For Christ's sake where is Jean? Someone's got to organise the village. They mustn't leave the school!'

‘Jean has already organised a rescue,' Louise said slowly. ‘He and Roger and Camier and others. But they're not expecting anything to happen till tonight. They're miles away from Chemire. Oh my God!' she cried out. ‘What are we going to do?'

‘I don't know,' Régine mumbled. ‘I thought if I could tell Jean …'

‘I'm going downstairs,' Louise said suddenly. ‘I'm going to talk to him myself.' She stopped at the door. ‘You'd better stay here,' she said. ‘Keep out of this.' She went down the stairs; she felt calm, but icy cold. A mass grave in the woods. He had his back to her when she went into the salon; he was examining one of the family miniatures. He had taken it off the wall.

‘Standartenführer Vierken!'

He turned round slowly, still holding the miniature. ‘Madame? I was admiring the fine quality of this painting. Where is Régine? I told her to hurry.'

‘Régine is upstairs,' Louise said. She walked away from him. ‘You know what I'm going to ask you?'

‘No.' He glanced up from his examination of the miniature. ‘How should I know? Is this an ancestor—of your husband's, I assume. Americans can't trace themselves that far.'

‘I'll go down on my knees and beg you,' Louise said. ‘Let the children go home. Whatever the village has done, punish the adults. Shoot as many of us as you like—but don't murder the innocent!'

‘I don't think your kneeling would make any difference,' he said pleasantly. ‘It might be amusing to watch, however. I'm usually amenable to pretty women. Like your sister-in-law, for instance.' His eyes considered her, dark with hatred and contempt. ‘You don't believe it's going to happen, do you, Madame de Bernard? You think I'm bluffing, don't you? Régine does. Surprising, because she knows me very well. You think you people can kill Germans and sabotage our war effort and we won't punish you as you deserve? You'll know better next time. I'm going to make an example of this place.'

Louise stood with her back to the bureau. ‘You must have children of your own,' she said. ‘How could you do this thing?'

Vierken laughed. ‘My children have nothing to do with it, it's your children who are going to be re-settled.'

‘That's a lie,' Louise said slowly. ‘I know what re-settled means. You're going to kill them. Put down that miniature—don't put your filthy hands on anything belonging to us!'

He half turned; the delicate seventeenth-century enamel smashed into the fireplace.

‘Now,' Louise said slowly, ‘either you let the children go home or I am going to kill you!' She held the old Comte's revolver in both hands. Vierken stood very still.

‘You're being very foolish,' he said. ‘You wouldn't hit anything with that.'

‘You send a message,' Louise said, ‘releasing them from that school. You've got a car outside. Write the order and your driver can take it. Now.'

‘And afterwards?' Vierken asked her. His right hand was creeping inwards towards the holster at his side.

‘Don't do that, Adolph,' Régine said from the doorway. ‘She means it. She'll shoot.'

She walked into the room; her hair was brushed smooth and she had smeared a crimson lipstick on her mouth. She looked ghastly: ‘Don't move,' she repeated.

‘Do as she says. Send that note.' She didn't look at Louise, she was staring at Vierken. Her hands opened and closed at her sides. ‘She'll shoot you—let them go!'

Vierken looked from her to Louise and then back to Régine. A smile of contempt twisted his mouth. ‘Come over here,' he said in German. ‘She can't shoot both of us. Be calm, sweetheart. Just take my gun.'

Régine walked up to him, she turned and faced her sister-in-law. ‘I'm not going to let you kill him,' she said.

‘Get back,' Louise cried out. ‘Get away from him—he'll use you as a shield!' Régine didn't answer. She plunged her hand into the holster and brought out his revolver.

‘Good girl,' Vierken said softly. ‘Now step between us and give the gun to me …'

Régine looked at him and shook her head. ‘No,' she said. ‘No. You lied to me, Adolph.' She had stepped back and the black eye of the muzzle was pointing at his chest. ‘I listened in on the telephone this morning. I know what you're going to do to the children. I know about Chemire.'

‘You wouldn't hurt me, sweetheart,' Vierken said. ‘You love me. You wouldn't shoot.'

‘Send the message,' Régine said. Her voice trembled. ‘Release them. For the last time, I beg of you …'

‘Go to hell!' Suddenly his nerves snapped. ‘They're going to be shot and buried! Every last one of them—give me that gun, you little whore, or I'll break every bone in your body!' As he leaped for her, the first shot cracked out. Louise screamed. There was a second shot and then a third. Vierken jerked backwards, his body jack-knifing as the bullets slammed into him at point-blank range. He crumpled and fell. Régine stood over him, firing repeatedly until the gun clicked empty. He didn't die at once. He twitched and choked, blood bubbling out of his mouth. His eyes opened, glaring and then suddenly they filmed over.

She stood and pulled the trigger. There was another useless click. Louise ran to her and wrenched the revolver away.

‘Stop! Stop it, for God's sake!'

Régine fell on her knees beside him; she was moaning. ‘Adolph … Adolph—oh God, oh God.' She held herself, rocking with grief.

Louise found the old servant Jean-Pierre standing in the doorway. He carried a little axe they used for chopping firewood. ‘Madame—we heard shots … What's happened?'

‘There's been an accident,' Louise whispered. ‘Shut the door …'

‘I had to do it,' Régine wept. ‘I loved him but I had to do it. I couldn't let him murder the little ones …' She looked up and saw Jean-Pierre staring down at her in horror. ‘“They're going to be shot,”' she said. ‘“Shot and buried.” When he said that I killed him.'

Louise caught hold of her. ‘There's the driver outside,' she said. ‘Get up, come away from here. Jean-Pierre, go and see if he heard anything!' She had half lifted Régine to her feet and was supporting her to the door. For a moment the girl pulled against her and looked back. There was no hysteria left in her; her eyes were dead.

‘He called me a whore,' she muttered. ‘I thought he loved me …'

‘Come upstairs,' Louise begged her. ‘Don't look at him any more. If you hadn't done it, I would have shot him … I wish to God I had!' The old man appeared beside them in the hall.

‘The driver's still waiting by the car, Madame,' he said. ‘He didn't hear anything.' The walls at St. Blaize were a foot thick. ‘Is it true?' he asked her. ‘Is she telling the truth—are they going to kill my grandchildren?' His mouth quivered.

‘Yes,' Louise answered. ‘I'm afraid it is. They're all going to be murdered. Unless I can get to the Comte in time.' She went to the window and looked out. Vierken's Mercedes gleamed in the sunshine; the driver leaned against the bonnet.

‘I'm going to get that car,' she said. ‘It's the only chance we've got. But you'll have to deal with the driver. There's a revolver in there.' She pointed to the salon. ‘It's loaded. I must have dropped it. I'll send him inside. Make sure you don't miss!'

‘I won't,' the old man said. ‘Leave him to me, Madame. Marie-Anne, come here and take Mademoiselle Régine upstairs!' Louise ran down the steps and out into the sunlight. She went up to the car and the driver straightened himself.

‘You're wanted inside.' she said. He turned and ran to the front door. She didn't wait to see what happened. She wrenched open the car door and slid behind the wheel. The keys were in it. She pressed the starter; it fired instantly, and a moment later the car skidded through the gates and swung onto the road to Lavallière.

8

The woods at Chemire were full of birds. At the approach of the execution detail that morning, they had risen from the centre of the wood in a mass, screeching in alarm, streaking off in all directions. About two hundred yards into the wood itself, the S.S. scout car came to a halt at a natural clearing. A lorry was parked nearby. Above their heads was a circle of open sky, on all sides the massive trees surrounded them; underfoot the ground was soft and black with leaf mould. There were five men. They carried the machine gun in two parts. In the centre of the clearing a rectangular pit had been dug about twenty feet long and eight feet deep. The earth was piled into a huge mound on the far side. A group of men were squatting near the pit, smoking and talking. They were in shirt sleeves, their arms bare; earth stained them.