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Authors: Jr. Lynmar Brock
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the family’s papers and said, “Thank you, Monsieur. Your passports reveal a complicated heritage but everything’s in order. You may proceed.”
Alex cautiously merged back into the slow-moving traffic. The soldiers who had intercepted the Sauverins stood on either side of the road peering every which way in search of the king’s missing Buick.
“We still need bread,” André said as they crawled along.
“And something to drink,” Denise added, “if we find another market.”
“And if there’s anything left in it,” André sighed. “People have lost all reason. They’re beginning to act like animals.”
“Every man for himself!” Alex sang out mordantly.
In the next town shoppers were more civilized and the Sauverins succeeded in acquiring bread, water, wine, and a further supply of biscuits and cheese. As it was midday they drove up and down the streets repeatedly, seeking and finally spotting an open restaurant in a small hotel.
Only two of the tables were seated. People were in too big a hurry to get away to waste time on a cooked meal.
The Sauverins appreciated the quiet reserved atmosphere as much as the food. At the end of the meal the proprietor agreed to sell them a small quantity of ham—at a premium.
Late in the afternoon—after being stopped and released one more time by soldiers searching for the king’s children—they approached the French border, plainly visible several hundred meters ahead. But the traffic wouldn’t budge. Military police frantically motioned all civilian vehicles off the road. Disgusted, Alex eased the car and trailer onto the shoulder.
“Why are we stopping?” Ida asked, twisting around on her jump seat to get a better view. The children had been good passengers till then but now were running out of patience.
André stepped out of the car to peer about. Vehicles were stopped all along the side of the road, some with their motors running, others stalled. Disgruntled drivers and passengers wandered about aimlessly, dazed.
“The border must be closed,” André leaned back in to report. “The barrier’s down and no one’s going through.”
He walked toward the customs building straddling the border. Frenzied Belgians questioned French authorities to no avail. Rumors spread that German troops had broken into open country and were headed toward the English Channel, which had panicked the people of Paris—not that that explained the border problem.
French and British soldiers were still pouring into Belgium, overwhelming the roads.
“Get out of the way, you fools!” authorities bellowed at the milling, distressed, would-be exiles as a convoy of French army trucks rolled glacially forward.
When André returned to the car, Denise suggested they might all stretch their legs.
The children jumped out eagerly. Lined up alongside the road they watched with wide eyes the steady flow of warriors and war matériel passing by. French soldiers leaned out of their canvas-covered transports and waved. The Sauverin children waved back enthusiastically. Philippe even received a salute, which he manfully if unsuccessfully returned.
The older Sauverins gazed at the canal running parallel to the road and at the hedgerows surrounding the fields where cows lazily grazed.
Denise, glad the children now considered the soldiers their friends, asked André, “Where should we go? We can’t cross the border and we can’t stay here.”
“And we can’t go back to Le Coq.” André gestured at the impossibly congested road east.
“What’s wrong with here?” Rose asked gamely. “It’s a lovely spot and the weather’s quite pleasant.”
As if to demonstrate the practicality of the notion Denise immediately brought a blanket and some food and drink out of the car and laid them all out on the ground picnic-style. She cut bread and cheese into little sandwiches and shared them around.
Everyone sat down and ate hungrily.
“Thank you, Denise,” Louis said
Alex cautiously merged back into the slow-moving traffic. The soldiers who had intercepted the Sauverins stood on either side of the road peering every which way in search of the king’s missing Buick.
“We still need bread,” André said as they crawled along.
“And something to drink,” Denise added, “if we find another market.”
“And if there’s anything left in it,” André sighed. “People have lost all reason. They’re beginning to act like animals.”
“Every man for himself!” Alex sang out mordantly.
In the next town shoppers were more civilized and the Sauverins succeeded in acquiring bread, water, wine, and a further supply of biscuits and cheese. As it was midday they drove up and down the streets repeatedly, seeking and finally spotting an open restaurant in a small hotel.
Only two of the tables were seated. People were in too big a hurry to get away to waste time on a cooked meal.
The Sauverins appreciated the quiet reserved atmosphere as much as the food. At the end of the meal the proprietor agreed to sell them a small quantity of ham—at a premium.
Late in the afternoon—after being stopped and released one more time by soldiers searching for the king’s children—they approached the French border, plainly visible several hundred meters ahead. But the traffic wouldn’t budge. Military police frantically motioned all civilian vehicles off the road. Disgusted, Alex eased the car and trailer onto the shoulder.
“Why are we stopping?” Ida asked, twisting around on her jump seat to get a better view. The children had been good passengers till then but now were running out of patience.
André stepped out of the car to peer about. Vehicles were stopped all along the side of the road, some with their motors running, others stalled. Disgruntled drivers and passengers wandered about aimlessly, dazed.
“The border must be closed,” André leaned back in to report. “The barrier’s down and no one’s going through.”
He walked toward the customs building straddling the border. Frenzied Belgians questioned French authorities to no avail. Rumors spread that German troops had broken into open country and were headed toward the English Channel, which had panicked the people of Paris—not that that explained the border problem.
French and British soldiers were still pouring into Belgium, overwhelming the roads.
“Get out of the way, you fools!” authorities bellowed at the milling, distressed, would-be exiles as a convoy of French army trucks rolled glacially forward.
When André returned to the car, Denise suggested they might all stretch their legs.
The children jumped out eagerly. Lined up alongside the road they watched with wide eyes the steady flow of warriors and war matériel passing by. French soldiers leaned out of their canvas-covered transports and waved. The Sauverin children waved back enthusiastically. Philippe even received a salute, which he manfully if unsuccessfully returned.
The older Sauverins gazed at the canal running parallel to the road and at the hedgerows surrounding the fields where cows lazily grazed.
Denise, glad the children now considered the soldiers their friends, asked André, “Where should we go? We can’t cross the border and we can’t stay here.”
“And we can’t go back to Le Coq.” André gestured at the impossibly congested road east.
“What’s wrong with here?” Rose asked gamely. “It’s a lovely spot and the weather’s quite pleasant.”
As if to demonstrate the practicality of the notion Denise immediately brought a blanket and some food and drink out of the car and laid them all out on the ground picnic-style. She cut bread and cheese into little sandwiches and shared them around.
Everyone sat down and ate hungrily.
“Thank you, Denise,” Louis said
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