Read on to sample another harrowing tale of World War II by Michael P. Spradlin,
The Enemy Above!

 

Silence was life.

Stillness was freedom.

Anton turned his head to the dirt, so light would not reflect off his face. He curled his body tightly and tried to control his breathing, certain he was going to be discovered.

As the sound of the half-track grew nearer, he and Bubbe had hurried toward the tree line. But his grandmother had slowed them down. Behind them, he could hear the engine stop and the men leave the vehicle. He heard orders barked in German.

“Bubbe,” he whispered. “Cover yourself with dirt.” The soil was damp from the recent rains. He dug his hands into the ground and smeared his face and hands with mud. He helped his grandmother cover hers and pulled her shawl up around her face.

“When the soldiers come, you must make yourself as small as possible and keep your face turned to the ground,” he said.

“Be brave, my kinder,” she said. He watched his grandmother curl herself into a ball. Many years of hard work on the farm had made her stiff, and she grunted with the effort.

Anton lifted his head slightly and studied the four men. They were spreading out along the road and he heard automatic weapons being cocked. The noise of the guns carried across the field so loudly he felt as if the sound was cutting through him. When the gestapo entered the wheat field, he ducked down, burrowing into the ground as best he could.

I must not look, he thought to himself. I must not look. He repeated the words over and over in his mind.

Anton focused on the sound of the approaching men. Their boots whispered through the wheat stalks. He wondered if he and Bubbe had somehow been spotted. The approaching vehicle had caught them by surprise. Anton willed himself to total stillness, praying that he could make himself invisible. To Anton, the men’s footsteps sounded louder than cannon fire and he was certain his heart would explode. The voice of one of the soldiers startled him so much he nearly cried out.

Bubbe spoke several languages. Because of the war, he had not been able to attend school. But Bubbe had been teaching his lessons, and for the past several months she had been instructing him in German. So far he could understand and write it better than he could speak it. He heard the man ordering him and Bubbe to show themselves. Telling them that they would not be harmed. Anton wondered how this could be true. Their guns said otherwise.

Silence was life.

Despite the cool night air, Anton was sweating. He could not believe the men did not hear his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to keep his breathing regular, but it was difficult because he was so afraid.

The men were moving again. They would be upon him in moments. Should he run? Should he take Bubbe by the arm and make a break for the trees? No. They would never make it. The soldiers would gun them down before they had taken more than a step.

The soldiers inched closer. One of them was only meters away. The man’s steps sounded like thunder. Anton desperately wanted to look, but he did not dare.

Stillness was freedom.

Every muscle in Anton’s body tensed as he readied for rough hands to grab him and jerk him to his feet. But the man passed him by. Anton could hear him moving toward the trees. The soldier had walked right between him and Bubbe—huddled a couple meters apart—and not seen either of them.

What should they do? Would the men enter the forest? If they did, should he and Bubbe try to escape? Instinct told him to remain still.

A few moments later he heard the soldiers talking among themselves. They spoke in hushed, hurried tones. He could not hear well enough to understand. But he could tell that a decision had been reached. He glanced up quickly to see the men turning back and heading in his direction once again. Surely, he and Bubbe would be discovered.

Closer they came. But this time they were not as cautious. They hurried through the field and returned to the half-track. Anton heard the engine start and the vehicle roar away in the night.

He and Bubbe waited a few more minutes, then stood up. Bubbe groaned with the effort. She picked her way across the field slowly, taking sharp breaths as her joints creaked. Anton wished she could move faster, in case the Nazis returned. He took her by the arm to steady her while she walked.

“You are a good boy, kinder,” she said, patting him on the wrist.

“Thank you, Bubbe,” he said. “We must hurry.”

“They will not return tonight,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Because I am old and wise. But my hearing is still young.” Bubbe cackled with laughter. “And my German is better than yours.”

Anton had to smile. But as they made their way toward the shelter of the woods, Anton couldn’t help looking over his shoulder.