May 10th, 1940 was the day my family packed up our belongings, only things that we could carry on foot, and retreated from our home that was located in the countryside of France near the Forest of Ardennes. My father, Gage Gardner, was a farmer that had lived in our home since he was a little boy. I will always remember the look on his face. His eyes were watery as if he was holding back tears, his lips were tightly closed, and he had a regretful expression on his face that clearly showed he was bothered that we could not stay on his farm and fight for our land. My mother, Ella Gardner, grabbed my little brother, Pierre, and grabbed my hand with a tight grip. My mother's expression showed that she was not as sad as my father about leaving our family home, but she was filled with panic and wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I was fourteen during this time and I knew something was wrong. I was not completely sure, however, why exactly we were leaving in such a rush. As my father stood as still as a statute looking at our home, my mother whispered something into his ear and he quickly acknowledged what she had said to him. We all left on foot towards the Ardennes Forest which was located about twelve miles from our house.
My family and I walked for what felt like forever and not a single word was spoken between any of us. We finally made it to the Ardennes Forest. But before we entered the forest, my father knelt down on one knee and looked my brother and I straight in the eye and said, “We had to leave home and will never be able to return. The German soldiers known as Nazi’s want to murder all Jews and I refuse to let them harm any of my family. I know your legs are tired and you and your brother do not want to continue walking, but we have no other choice. We will continue walking until we reach the West of France, from there we shall head to the boats docked on the North Atlantic Ocean where we will sail to Sweden.” I had no idea what to think when my father told my brother and I those things. I just knew that I had to trust him and stay strong for Pierre for I could tell he was extremely scared about finding out why we had to leave home. My father then continued, “ We will continue walking until dusk and then find a safe place to camp out for the night.” So my family and I forged on into the Ardennes Forest. I can remember the rugged terrain, large rolling hills, tall trees, and long grass that covered the ground for miles and miles. The sunlight would shine in through different areas of the forest, but it was mostly covered with shade.
After walking for nearly fifteen hours, my family, parched and exhausted, found a dense cave which was covered with moss. My father said, "We will camp here until early morning and then continue to make our way towards the Atlantic." As we entered the cave, my father started a fire using his box of matches that he would use for smoking his pipe. He then used the match to light a lantern that he packed in his bag. As we all sat around the lantern, my mom took out a loaf of bread and broke off a small piece for me, my brother, my father, and then for herself. My father then pulled out a canteen and took a small sip of water. He then passed it to my mother. Before handing the canteen over to my brother and I he said, "Take a small sip, for we do not have a lot and we must make it last for as long as possible." My brother, Pierre, asked my parents if we would make it to Sweden before dying. My father responded by saying, "Of course ,we will, son. No matter our circumstance we have God with us and he will make a way for us to make it out of here alive. You must trust in God." After hearing my father say that, I laid down, using my bag as a pillow, closed my eyes, and said a prayer in my head.
In the early hours of the morning, I am awoken by a hand covering my mouth. My father whispers in my ear and says, “Do not make a sound. Be as quiet as a mouse. The Nazi’s are close to us.” As soon as he finished saying this, I heard a Nazi soldier yelling out, “Halten sie die Augen offen für Juden.” (Keep your eyes peeled for any Jews). My brother, Pierre, was deepest in the cave being covered by my mother. My father hugged my mother tightly but not before throwing a long, dark brown coat over me and whispering to me one last time, “Be very quiet, my beautiful girl.” As I lay there in complete fear and shock, I heard footsteps getting closer and closer to our hiding spot. A young Nazi soldier, a boy that could not have been more than eighteen years old, stands right in front of the entrance of the small, compacted cave where my family was hiding. As I lay there with my entire body covered by the coat, the young Nazi soldier peeked his head in and with one swift move, pulled the coat off revealing my head. I froze in complete shock and deeply stared right into his eyes as he stared right back into mine. He then spoke in English with a thick German accent and said to me, “How many of you are in this cave?” Without giving any thought, I answered him, “It is me and my family. We mean no harm.” The Nazi solider said nothing and continued to look directly into my eyes. I then hear myself say to him, “Can you keep a secret?”
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2 comments
Hi, Thank you for sharing this bit of history. I enjoyed the story despite the pain behind it. I did notice a few grammatical errors and some run-on sentences. A few suggestions for editing your short story before posting: Just a few techniques I think you could use to take your writing to the next level: READ the piece OUT LOUD. You will be amazed at the errors you will find as you read. You will be able to identify missing and overused words. It is also possible to catch grammatical mistakes – such as missing or extra commas...
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Thank you for your comment! I will be sure to try out grammarly when writing for my next prompt. I will also be sure to fix any errors before submitting. Again thanks I really appreciated your feedback
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