Clovis and Homer landed in the marshy region of the Netherlands and began foraging for food.
“No more adventures, Clovis, okay?”
Before Clovis could reply, they heard a voice in the background.
“Hier, vogeltje, vogeltje” (Here, birdie, birdie), repeated in a higher pitch.
They followed the voice to a nearby village where they watched an old woman, clinching her apron full of bread crumbs, and tossing them to the ground.
“Look, bread crumbs, my dream come true!” Homer rejoiced.
Clovis suggested that Homer wait before rushing to join the tiny birds. Among the summer visitors were sandpipers, plovers, and a few larks. Chirping sounds increased when a large vagrant grouse landed among them, and began devouring all the delicious morsels. The old lady warned Homer, and began to shoo the large bird, but he paid her no mind until she unexpectedly steamed toward him with a brickbat in her hand. Homer dodged the flying missile which barely nipped his tail in his efforts to escape. Panting with fear, he returned to find Clovis amused at the whole incident.
“It’s not funny, Clovis. She would have killed me!”
“You are not a birdie, Homer.”
“A bird is a bird, is a bird!” he grimaced as he watched the bread crumbs on the ground disappear one by one.
They returned to the marshy grassland and began browsing for grass seeds. Soon, they noticed a large pigeon flying from the east, and they wasted no time hiding in the underbrush as its large shadow swept over them. The familiar red scarf sent chills over Homer.
“It’s Vogelzar, remember him?” asked Clovis.
“Kommandant Vogelzar, without his chain!”
“This could be an important mission, Homer.”
“No, Clovis, we’re no match for him.”
It was too late. Clovis leaped up into the air to follow Vogelzar, and the reluctant Homer soon joined him. Staying a safe distance behind, they followed Vogelzar as he continued his flight across the Netherlands and out over the North Sea. Vogelzar landed aboard a light cruiser of the German Imperial Navy. Part of the northbound German fleet, it was already steaming out to sea near the coast of Jutland, the largest province in Denmark. Clovis and Homer landed on the rear deck of the ship where they waited and watched. The stern moved up and down in the high seas, tossing, pitching. Homer became seasick.
“I don’t like this, Clovis. Let’s get out of here!”
“Not yet, Homer, wait!”
A portable pigeon pen in the middle of the deck was just a short distance away. It was partially draped at the top. Clovis carefully moved in closer to investigate, and hid behind the tarp.
“Lookout!” shrieked Homer. But, it was too late.
Thinking the bird had escaped from the cage, a seaman grabbed a fishing net and captured Clovis.
“Taube! kommher zu mir!” (Dove, come here)
Homer panicked, and flew around the ship where he could see his friend, and remain undetected. The cage held about ten other carrier pigeons, and unknown to Clovis, his archenemy Vogelzar. Clovis became fearful when Vogelzar began shoving his way toward him.
“Did you plan to intercept my message too? I sent an army of birds to destroy you, but you destroyed my army, didn’t you, wimpy dove?” Homer witnessed Vogelzar’s wrath as he began to tighten his talons around Clovis. Clovis tried to rise above his fears.
“If you hurt me, your sea commander will think you are a bird killer, and you will lose your job, Kommandant Vogelzar.”
As much as Vogelzar wanted to destroy Clovis, he knew the dove was right, and released his grip. His large beak opened and closed silently to demonstrate his frustration.
“Very well,” he whispered, as he looked outside the cage where sailors were walking about. “But, I will see that you starve to death!” Vogelzar returned to the door to stand guard with his notorious intimidating laugh.
After watching the confrontation, Homer left the ship under cover of darkness. He planned to fly to the coast of Denmark, and return later with food for Clovis. He landed inside a forest and rested in the grasses for the night. Homer rose at dawn and found himself near a little pond. After browsing for food, he gathered some food for Clovis. Someone was watching him.
“Hello.”
“Who are you?”
“Grouse Breda, I live here with my father.”
“I’m Homer.”
Grouse Breda was reddish brown with a black tail, and white legs. He told the friendly grouse about his dilemma, and she offered to help him gather seeds and dried berries. They placed them inside a leaf that he could transport back to the ship.
Meanwhile, Clovis felt doomed as he remained in the back corner of the cage, afraid he would starve to death. He was already hungry. The leading edge of the sun began to rise over the horizon as Homer arrived with food. He quietly pushed the leaf through the bars; then returned to Denmark before daybreak. Hiding in the shadow of another dove, Clovis placed the leaf under his wing, consuming one morsel at a time. When he was finished, he pushed the empty leaf behind him.
The cage door opened at daybreak and a long rectangular pan filled with fine grain mixed with seed was laid in the middle of the cage. Smirking at Clovis, Vogelzar began to eat, and allowed all the other pigeons and doves to gather around the tray. The other birds were too afraid of their Kommandant to help the newcomer.
Each morning, Homer provided fresh food for Clovis, and each morning, he consumed the food in the shadow of the same dove. She was white with pink markings, and decided to turn around and introduce herself.
“I’m Fraulein Seabird.”
“My name is Clovis.”
“I don’t think it’s fair for that big beak to keep food from a stranger.”
“Do you carry many messages from the ship?”
“Yes, but if it is not delivered successfully, you get no food.”
“Why don’t you escape next time?”
“Is that what you tried to do?”
“No.”
“I plan to fly far, far away.” she whispered.
On his return to land on the third day, Homer stood on the seawall, watching the light cruiser out on the high seas, and wondered how he was going to help his friend escape. Remembering their first encounter with Vogelzar made him feel incapable of ever saving his friend. Feeling anxious, he wondered what Clovis would do. He always focused on the task, never the obstacles, which Homer had always thought was a little irresponsible. Now, he must focus on the task. After all, he thought, Clovis told him he was good at making brave decisions. Committed to saving his friend, he went back to the ship, unaware that a British destroyer was about to sink the cruiser.
When Homer returned, it wasn’t long before the German cruiser was attacked by the allied British Royal Navy. Explosions aboard the cruiser were followed by emergency alarms, and its seamen prepared to abandon ship. The pigeon pen began to slide as the ship tilted and water spilled over the deck. Vogelzar leaned against the door, waiting for one of his comrades to free the scowling bird, but no one was paying any attention to him. Homer told Clovis to distract Vogelzar while he released the chain pin on the door. Incoming water made it difficult for Clovis to make his way to the door.
“Hurry, Clovis,” urged Homer, “There’s not much time!”
While Clovis was making his way toward Vogelzar, Seabird stopped him.
“Please take me with you!”
“Sure, but stay close behind me!”
As Clovis approached Vogelzar, he put on a near-death performance. “Please give Taube food.”
Vogelzar looked down at Clovis and wondered how the dove could be thinking about food at a time like this.
“Sie dummer idiot!”
Homer successfully released the chain pin. Clovis knew that if Vogelzar was the first to escape, he would leave the birds trapped inside. Clovis quickly made his escape as soon as the door was unlocked. Unfortunately, Vogelzar pushed Seabird back inside the cage in pursuit of Clovis. During his flight, Clovis looked back in the smoky waters for Seabird, and was shocked to see Vogelzar hot on his trail. Flying just above the surface of the water, Clovis raced toward the coast, in fear for his life.
Homer was fearful for Clovis as he flew at high speed behind Vogelzar, unaware how he was going to save his friend from his deadly clutches. Focusing on the task, Homer saw an opportunity to stop Vogelzar. Like a hawk ready to attack his prey, Homer gained speed at record level to catch up with Vogelzar. With seconds away from landfall, Homer lifted his legs forward and glided above his huge wing span. With one swift downward thrust, he slammed Vogelzar into the seawall at high speed, breaking his neck. Crashing sounds from the deadly impact brought Clovis back to the site, where he was surprised to find Vogelzar had been destroyed. Homer couldn’t resist looking over the seawall below at the lifeless wingspan banging up against the wall in the rough seas.
“I knew I could outfly that old buzzard!”
Meanwhile, Clovis was preoccupied with the fate of the sinking German cruiser.
“Goodbye Fraulein Seabird, goodbye,” said Clovis, having failed to save her.
“Who is Seabird?”
“A friend who wanted to escape with me.”
Homer was anxious to show Clovis around Denmark, and convinced him to forget about the war. They joined Breda at the eating ground, near the pond. Clovis thanked Breda for helping Homer provide food for him, and was proud to tell the story of Homer’s courageous triumph over Vogelzar. Breda watched Homer’s combs rise with pride, as Clovis praised his best friend.
Soon, Breda introduced her new friends to her father, Oost Clodhopper. He bowed silently to the right, and then bowed to the left. Breda told them that her mother left one day to forage for food and never returned, and when he couldn’t find her, he never spoke again.
Breda wanted to take Clovis and Homer to a special place. When they arrived, she tried to impress Homer by telling an old folktale.
“This very island was supposedly created by some goddess who tricked a King by taking a piece of his land, and then she transported it here to Denmark.”
“And this is stolen land?” asked Clovis inquisitively.
“That’s how the story goes.”
Homer rolled his skeptical eyes.
The three of them spent several weeks in the woody landscape, where Homer and Breda spent a lot of time together. The weather began to change, and the air turned cool. Clovis and Homer agreed it was time to return to Belgium. Before departing, they thanked Breda for their pleasant visit.
“I didn’t think you wanted to leave Breda behind,” chided Clovis.
“Grouse aren’t clingers like you doves,” he mused. “Let’s play leapfrog.”
They played leapfrog across the sea until they reached the Netherlands. There was a peaceful frontier between Belgium and Holland. At the onset of the war, the enemy had erected an electric fence line to separate the two countries, and to discourage fugitives from trying to escape. Clovis and Homer were unaware of the danger that lied ahead.
Unsuspecting Homer made a sudden downward swoop and perched on the deadly fence. As he fell to the ground, Clovis landed next to him, thinking Homer was pretending to be injured.
“That’s not funny, Homer,” nudging him to one side. When blood trickled from his beak, Clovis looked down the fence line in horror. A man lying on the ground with one arm entangled in the wire. A killer fence, he thought.
All too sudden and without warning, Homer was gone. Clovis felt responsible for his death. If they had not followed Vogelzar, Homer would still be alive, he thought. Expectations that they would both survive the war had been shattered. He rested next to Homer’s body, and wept.
“You are the only friend I have.”
Sometime in the afternoon, Clovis prepared a final resting place for Homer, and paused for a moment. “You were the brave one, Homer.” Clovis stood proudly on his grave and whistled a tune in tribute to a war hero for all of Belgium to hear.
He leaped from the gravesite, with the faint echo of his lonely wing beats. Flying over no man’s land, Clovis stopped by one last time at the post of the grenadier, to visit the kind soldier who had befriended them. Much of the forest near the trenches had been toppled by heavy gun artillery. Clovis perched in a sparsely treed area in the distance overlooking the raging battlefield. Charging troops continued to move over the top toward the enemy; their flags, once carried with songs of victory, lay crumpled in the mud. In the wake of desolation and sorrow that engulfed him, Clovis remembered the encounter with the wise old bird in Brussels. “Maybe that old Fantail was right. What can birds do anyway?” he muttered.
Suddenly, he sensed a signal from one of the soldiers lying out on the battlefield. Maybe someone he knew. He paused on the ground and plucked an ornamental weed stem. Soon, he lightly perched on the chest of the grenadier, next to his hand clutching the letter he had read so many times. Clovis dropped the stem across his smoke-charred face, and bid farewell to the brave soldier.
Disillusioned by the war, Clovis flew away from the trenches, and away from the raging battlefield. Higher and higher he flew, toward the west coast of Belgium.
During his flight, he recalled the fondest memories of his dear friend, Homer: How they had perched everyday on their lookout to help the allied troops; a foolish struggle over a leaf cover on a cold winter night, followed by their first serious conversation; when Homer led Clovis to his nest where he was losing his feathers, then discovering noticeable changes with their coming of age; and most of all, helping him escape from a sinking ship. How grateful he was when he found out that the hero that saved him from Vogelzar, was Homer. As he approached his destination, the last memory of his dear friend faded into the clouds.
Clovis arrived on a deserted shore off the west coast of Flanders, amid dunes with scattered plumps of sea grass. In the far distance, the fleet of the British Royal Navy lined the horizon to reinforce its command of the high seas, while guarding the coast.
The bold patriotic spirit that had sustained Clovis was replaced with bitterness and resentment. He stood firm against the spontaneous gusts of the North Sea winds, and resolved that he would never become involved in the war again.
Like the pact he made with Homer to forget their beloved homeland, he would again leave the painful past behind, including the loss of his best friend, Homer. As the sun began to set over the North Sea, Clovis leaped away into a future of uncertainty, wondering why he, alone, was left to survive.