Jack and Annie rode with the wind at their backs. The spring air smelled of plowed soil and freshly cut hay. As their bicycles wobbled down the dirt lane, they passed apple orchards, wheat fields, vineyards, and farmhouses.

“I can’t believe it!” Jack called to Annie. “The Allied invasion of Normandy! That was called D-Day! D-Day! Have you ever heard of it?”

“Yes, but I don’t know exactly what it was,” said Annie.

“I read a book about it,” said Jack. “It was one of the most important military events of all time. Over a hundred thousand soldiers landed in Normandy, France, to fight Hitler’s army. It was the beginning of the end of World War Two! I can’t believe we came here on the day before D-Day.”

“I hope everything doesn’t get destroyed by bombs,” said Annie. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Jack. The countryside looked like an old painting: peach-colored farmhouses, apple trees with white flowers, red poppies blooming in fields. Everything was so peaceful and lovely that Jack could hardly believe the battle of D-Day would start here tomorrow. It gave him a strange feeling to know what was coming.

After bumping over ruts and ridges, Jack and Annie came to the end of the dirt lane. Annie checked the compass. “Left,” she said.

They turned left and pedaled down the wide road bordered by hedgerows. The hedges were so tall it was impossible to see beyond them.

“Are we on a back road?” Annie asked.

“I can’t tell,” Jack said.

They hadn’t gone much farther when a motorcycle turned onto the road and headed their way.

Friend? Enemy? Jack wondered anxiously. In case it was an enemy, he called out to Annie, “Act normal!”

“Right!” said Annie. They both smiled broadly and steered their bikes single file along the edge of the road. Jack was glad that Suzette had said wearing berets made them look French. When the motorcycle roared past, the driver didn’t even look their way.

The motorcycle disappeared in the distance, but then another car turned onto the road. As it headed toward them, Jack tried to look normal again. Just as the car sped past, he glanced in its direction. To his amazement, a woman driver flashed a quick V Is for Victory sign.

Jack grinned and gave the sign back. “Friend!” he called to Annie. The woman’s V signal made him feel hopeful. Maybe this isn’t going to be so hard, he thought.

Coming toward them next was a horse and cart driven by a young man who looked like a farmer. Seated beside him was a teenage girl. When they saw Jack and Annie, they smiled and nodded.

Definitely friends, Jack thought. When he got close to the couple, he flashed the V Is for Victory sign at them, too.

An angry look crossed the man’s face. He cried out in alarm. He pulled his horse to a halt and pointed at Jack and Annie. “Couriers! Resistance!” he shouted.

Oh, no! thought Jack. Gaston was right! In these times, you really didn’t know who was a friend and who was an enemy!

Behind the horse and cart, another motorcycle was rumbling down the road. The rider wore a gray uniform. The people in the cart flagged him down.

“GO!” Jack cried.

He and Annie wheeled around and raced their bikes against the wind. When Jack looked back, the motorcycle was coming toward them—fast!

“Ditch the bikes!” Annie shouted. They skidded to a stop, dropped their bikes to the ground, and bolted through an opening in a hedgerow.

Scraped by branches and thorns, they pushed their way through the narrow gap until they burst onto farmland. As they ran through a cow pasture, Jack looked around wildly for a place to hide. “Barn!” he cried, pointing. He and Annie ran toward a red wooden building next to a silo. When they drew closer to the entrance, they saw a man in white clothes putting two large milk cans into the back of a white truck.

“Help!” cried Annie.

The milkman looked startled, but as the motorcycle crashed through the hedge at the edge of the property, he seemed to understand everything at once. “Quick! In the truck!” he shouted.

Jack and Annie scrambled into the back of the truck and found a hiding place behind rows of tall milk canisters. Crouching behind the canisters, they covered their mouths so no one would hear them gasping for breath.

The milkman slammed the back door of the truck shut. There was a panel between the front seat and the windowless back area. Jack and Annie sat in the dark and listened to the motorcycle thunder closer and then stop. Through the closed door, they could hear bits of conversation from outside:

“Yes … two … boy and girl.” “Resistance couriers …” “Yes, you are sure.…” “Yes … good …” “Thank you for your help …”

Moments later, Jack heard the motorcycle rev up and drive away.

The milkman started his engine. Then, with the large canisters jiggling in their crates, the truck began bouncing over the road.

“I guess we’re going with him,” whispered Annie.

“I wonder if he’s a friend or enemy,” whispered Jack.

“A friend,” said Annie. “He must have told the motorcycle guy we went in the opposite direction.”

“Or he could be taking us to the police,” whispered Jack. “Maybe the motorcycle guy was thanking him for locking us in his truck and taking us to the Nazis.”

“Oh, no. I hadn’t thought of that,” Annie whispered. Clutching their berets, they jiggled with the clattering milk cans as the truck continued on.

After a while, the milk truck stopped again. It sounded like the driver was getting out.

Jack froze. He heard the back door handle click. Then the door swung open. The milkman pulled out a large milk canister and whispered, “All clear! Hurry!”

“Thanks!” said Annie.

Leaving the door open, the milkman carried the canister away from the truck.

“Go!” said Jack.

He and Annie jumped out of the back of the truck. It was parked in front of a long building with a sign that said:

CAEN MILK PROCESSING PLANT

“Look! We’re in Caen!” said Annie, pointing to the sign. “Isn’t that great?”

“Go! Go!” said Jack. He and Annie raced across a street and headed down a narrow alley.

“Wait,” Jack said, stopping in his tracks. “We shouldn’t run. It will make us look suspicious.” They stopped for a moment and tried to catch their breath.

“The milkman was a friend,” said Annie.

“Definitely,” said Jack. “Okay. Let’s go. Act normal.”

Jack and Annie stepped out from the alley and into a busy town square. In the middle of the square was an outdoor market. Women with children strolled from booth to booth, buying lettuce, peas, potatoes, flowers, linens, and lace. Surrounding the square were cobblestone streets lined with quaint buildings. There was a church covered with ivy, a small train depot, and a sidewalk café with a red striped awning.

Again, Jack found it difficult to believe that a great battle was about to take place. “This is all going to change tomorrow,” he said to Annie as they strolled through the market.

“I know,” Annie said. “I wish we could tell everyone to leave today.”

“Yep,” said Jack. He looked at a clock tower in the square. “It’s almost ten. We have ten hours left until nightfall.”

“Well, we’re in Caen,” said Annie. “Now we have to go three miles east to the River Orne and the caves of Mondeville.”

“Right,” said Jack.

“Excuse me!” Annie called to a young woman pushing a baby buggy. “Can you please tell us how to get to Mondeville?”

“It is very easy,” said the woman. “Just a short train ride. You get off at the first stop.” She pointed to the depot next to the café.

“Thanks,” said Annie.

“You’re welcome,” said the woman. She waved two fingers and kept pushing the carriage across the square.

“Friend,” Annie said to Jack.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“She gave me a V Is for Victory sign,” said Annie.

“Or maybe she just happened to use two fingers to wave to you,” said Jack. “Even though the milkman was a friend, we can never be sure who our friends and enemies are. Remember the farmer and the girl in the cart?”

“Yeah, I didn’t see that coming,” said Annie.

“Not in a million years,” said Jack.

“I thought—” said Annie

The roar of engines interrupted her. Four open black cars rolled into the square and parked in a line. Each car had a red, white, and black symbol on the side. Jack recognized it as a swastika, the symbol of the Nazis. Soldiers got out of the cars and stood at the edge of the square, watching the shoppers. They wore gray uniforms with black belts and tall boots.

“Enemies,” Jack said under his breath.

“Definitely,” said Annie.