Read Online Under a War-Torn Sky by L.M. Elliott - Free Book Online

feeling trapped, like a scared rabbit down a hole. He swallowed hard and tried to dispel the image of how hunting dogs back home tore apart a rabbit when they caught it.
    Stamp, stamp. The boat tipped and rocked. The soldiers had boarded. Henry heard panting and the hot, heavy breathing of dogs excited by new smells. But so far, they were held back on leashes.
    â€œ Wohin gehen Sie? ” one soldier demanded.
    â€œ Au marché à Bâle .” The boatman answered in French that he was heading to market in Basel.
    The soldier switched to French himself: “ Pourquoi est-ce que vous ne vendez pas les choux dans votre village? ”
    â€œ Personne n’a de l’argent pour acheter des légumes. ” The teacher truthfully told the soldiers his neighbours were too poor to buy the cabbages.
    â€œ Ah, oui? ” the soldier asked sarcastically.
    Without warning – SLASH! – a bayonet jabbed through a cabbage and down through a slat in the crates. Its point stopped just inches above Henry’s heart. The steel tip withdrew. Henry held his breath, bracing for another stab.
    SLASH!
    The bayonet ripped through the cabbages again, this time just missing Henry’s eye.
    â€œ Quelque chose en-dessous? ” the soldier snarled. “ Des Juifs, peut-être? ”
    His companion grabbed a crate and threw it into the water, splashing the teacher. The two soldiers laughed. The boat rocked. The dogs barked ferociously.
    SLASH!
    The bayonet rammed down next to Henry’s knee.
    Henry glared at the bottom of the crates above his head. They were going to tear apart the boat. What did they suspect? Juif – was that the word for Jew? Henry glimpsed the soldiers’ boots circle the crates, saw their fingers reach through the top rung of the top tier of crates. They’d only need to lift one or two more before they could spot him through the cabbages.
    Henry clenched his fists, holding them up in front of his face like a boxer – the way his dad had taught him to fight. At least they wouldn’t get him easy.
    Henry heard the teacher offer to help move the crates so the soldiers wouldn’t destroy the cabbages in their search. The teacher shuffled and clumsily lifted a crate himself. What are you doing, old man? Henry anxiously wondered.
    Then Henry heard him trip and stumble into one of the soldiers.
    SLOSH.
    The bucket of fish toppled over, too, spilling water and eels everywhere.
    â€œ Oh, pardonnez-moi, ” the teacher cried.
    The dogs went berserk, barking and jumping and snapping at the fish that flopped about the boat. In the mayhem, the dogs’ leashes wrapped round and round the soldiers’ legs.
    â€œ Verflucht! ” The soldiers cursed and reeled, yanked around by the crazed dogs. They hit and kicked at them, finally heaving the dogs off the boat onto the dock.
    The boat almost pitched over as the soldiers jumped out as well.
    â€œ Avance, vieux idiot! Vas vendre tes sales choux ailleurs! ”
    The teacher ignored the insult and followed their orders to shove off. “ Merci, messieurs! ” he called innocently and waved as the boat swung out into the water.
    Henry felt the boat jerk forward with great heaves as the boatman pushed with the pole. The boat skimmed quickly along the water. Gradually, Henry’s heart stopped knocking in his ears.
    After ten minutes, the teacher whispered, “We are all right. We are past sight. But remain under until I tell you.”
    â€œWill you have the same trouble with the Swiss border guards that you did with those Germans?” Henry whispered back.
    â€œGermans? Those were not Germans. Those were Swiss soldiers. They thought we hid Jews. Certainement, some of them are as bad as the Nazis.”

Chapter Seven
    Henry and the boatman waited at a pier for a long time, bobbing among many other barges. The schoolteacher had walked to his cousin’s house.
    Henry remained tucked under the cabbages,