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to salvage what they could. They were gunned down. Within days, ten thousand German troops invaded our little mountain citadel.”
    Henry couldn’t believe it, desperately didn’t want to believe it. Flying Fortresses were B-17s, American bombers. How could headquarters be that stupid—that many planes in broad daylight was like painting a big red arrow in thesky. “But didn’t de Gaulle back you? He was your leader. His Free French Army was just across the Mediterranean in Algeria. He could have flown in reinforcements within a few hours. Did he know what was happening?”
    The doctor glanced nervously to the square outside the church, where his “boss” was sitting, hunched, staring off into space, holding a cup of barley coffee he wasn’t drinking. “Oh yes, de Gaulle’s headquarters knew. Le patron radioed for an immediate air bombardment, saying if they did not at least do that, they were criminals and cowards.”
    He lowered his voice. “Some believe de Gaulle’s people betrayed us. What is the American phrase? Hmmm— ‘Sold us out.’ Correct?”
    Henry nodded.
    â€œWe may have been nothing more than a diversion, a way to distract the Nazis while the Allies battled in Normandy.
    â€œWe know now that there were many French paratroopers in Sicily awaiting orders. They were so frustrated at sitting, doing nothing, they nicknamed themselves les paratouristes. It seems de Gaulle and his senior staff planned to use them elsewhere, while praising our courage through radio broadcasts. I believe they were already thinking politically rather than militarily.”
    â€œI am sorry, doctor, I don’t understand what you mean.”
    The doctor narrowed his eyes. “After the humiliation of our long occupation, de Gaulle wanted France to feel strong again, to look like the French were freeing France, not just helping the American and British do so. He was saving those paratroopers for a drop into the Massif Central, in the middle of France, where it would be easier to make it into Paris with the Americans and British.”
    He leaned forward. “Some speculate that de Gaulle doesn’t want communists and socialists in his new government, even though he needed us to liberate France. Le patron is a socialist. Many of us here are communists.” He shrugged. “Interpret it as you will.”
    Henry was stunned. The Allies hadn’t even completely won the war yet—how could the French already be fighting amongst themselves?
    The doctor tilted Henry’s head toward the light to look at his forehead, which was still oozing blood from le patron’s blow. “This will heal on its own. It looks as if it was stitched up recently.”
    Henry blushed. He definitely didn’t want to admit to the shenanigans of that late-night flight of his. “My mother sewed me up after an accident on the farm.”
    â€œI could use her here,” the doctor murmured.
    â€œDon’t you have a nurse to help you?”
    The doctor’s face darkened. “No. No longer. We hidwounded maquis in a cave, Grotte de la Luire. But les boches found us. They slit the throats of the wounded and let them slowly gag to death. The seven women who helped tend them were deported to Ravensbruck. The other doctors and our hospital priest were executed by firing squad. I escaped into the cavern’s underground passageways with a patient. We waited three days before coming out.” He closed up his bag with a snap. “I am not proud of it.”
    He turned to go. Henry caught his arm. “What happened to the villagers?”
    â€œWhat happened?” the doctor croaked, his face haggard. “After that parachutage , the Germans dropped incendiary bombs on our towns. They strafed anyone running from the fires. They used our airfield—that de Gaulle’s staff had claimed was too short—to land gliders, carrying SS with orders to