|
MacGregror’s War © 2006
by GK “Scotty” Walker
an excerpt
It was the day before Christmas, Friday, December 24, 1943. I woke
up to the sound of a dog yapping and the voice of Sergeant
Hartsacker as he made his way down the row of beds rousting us out.
I dressed quickly amidst the yawns and groans and headed for the
door. It was another cold wet morning at Molesworth. There was no
rain but even in the blackness of the night you could feel the mist
that always seemed to hang over the base like a dark grey curtain. I hated
the weather here in England and we never knew until the last minute
if we were going to fly a mission or not.
It was 0300 hours when I entered the mess hall. I could hear the
normal clatter of knives and forks and the muffled sounds of the
others talking as those of us in line shuffled our way past the
steam table pans heaped with food. I filled my coffee cup, scooped up some scrambled
eggs, a couple pieces of fried spam, two pieces of toast, and made
my way to the table. I spotted Riechter, one of the other gunners
from our crew and sat down alongside him.
“Getting close eh Macgregor, what is it, 3 or 4 left now?”
“It’s 3 Riechter, 2 after we get back.”
“Man, I got 20 more to go yet; plenty of time for me to load up on
those fucking powdered eggs and spam.”
“You know where we’re going today?”
“Who gives a shit, Macgregor? We go up, get shot at and come back……
if we’re lucky! We’ll find out soon enough once we get to the
briefing room.”
“Ah, I was just curious. We got the USO on the base tonight and the
odds of getting back are better if we don’t go deep into Germany.”
Something was bugging me about this mission but I couldn’t put my
finger on it. It was my 28th and I was on a really close count down.
Two more after this one and I would be going back to the States.
After mess, we all headed over to the briefing hut. The place was
buzzing with chatter as usual but it came to an abrupt halt as
Colonel Bray entered. Someone shouted out ATTENTION and we all
jumped to our feet.
Riechter leaned over towards me, his hand concealing his lips and
whispered, “What the fuck is he doing here.”
“Beats the shit out of me, Riechter.”
Colonel Bray quickly took control of the briefing showing us where
we were going and why. As Lieutenant Bradley uncovered the flight
plan, Colonel Bray began to speak.
“Men your mission today will be the V-Weapons Rocket sites in the
Pas de Calais area of France. This is a very vital mission.
According to our intelligence, these rocket sites are being set up
along the French coast and could soon be targeting London and
surrounding areas with flying aerial bombs. This is a new weapon
being developed by the Germans and if allowed to continue
un-interrupted, it could wield devastating results. These flying
bombs are like a small aircraft with an engine and they fly at
speeds of 300 miles per hour. They have a metered amount of fuel and
the 1700 pound warhead they carry falls indiscriminately out of the
sky when the fuel is exhausted. We must destroy as many of these
launch facilities as we can.
This will be the largest number of
aircraft carrying out attacks of any 8th Air Force Mission to date
and the first against these missile sites. In all there will be 526
B-17's and 196 B-24's from the 8th air force escorted by 459 P-47's,
40 P-38's, and 42 P-51's from the 9th Air Force.”
He talked more about the importance of the mission, the affects
these rockets could have on the civilian population, and how every
effort should be made to see that our bombs found their intended
target. After the Colonel had finished, the room buzzed with chatter
and Lieutenant Bradley took over outlining all the details of the
mission; the flight plan, the formation, our bomb load, alternate
targets, altitude and weather. He went on to explain that this
mission would take approximately 4 hours.
“Well, there ya go MacGregor, just a short hop across the channel,
drop the load, and we’re back.”
“Oh yeah, can’t you just see the Germans laying back and waving to
us? I got a feeling this is going to be a rough one.”
As the 6x6 pulled up to our plane, there was a faint glimmer of
sunlight barely visible on the horizon. I could just make out the
words 'Delta Darlin' above the front gun turret. I was sitting at
the rear of the truck and as we got closer, I could see the huge
tail and my turret at the very end of the fuselage. The truck pulled
to a stop and we all climbed out, each man struggling with his own
thoughts about the upcoming flight.
The ground crew was having some sort of problem with the bombs or
the bomb doors but they seemed to have it under control as one by
one the bombs were ratcheted up into place and locked. It always
seemed to take forever for the crews to finish their work and it was
several more hours before they were done. Even though this was my
28th mission, I still had that same lump in my throat at the thought
of going up and all I could do was pray that my luck would hold out.
This feeling of being scared shitless went with me on each of my
previous missions and this one was no different.
Everything seemed to be in order for me, my chute pack was right
there to my side, my guns were fixed and checked out, and my turret
was functioning properly. It was always a tight fit for me back in
the tail gunner position and once airborne my only access to the
others in the plane was by radio or to leave my position and crawl around the rear wheel apparatus and
then on up through the main fuselage.
Everything was ready to go except for some last minute trouble they
were having with Riechter’s belly turret. They monkeyed around with
it for about ten more minutes before we began to rumble down the
runway. I could hear the tail wheel below me making a rough gravely
noise on the uneven surface, followed by the thunderous roar of the
engines as they were pushed to full throttle for take off. It wasn't
long before we cleared the runway and climbed up through the clouds
into the morning sky. It was daylight now and I had a bird’s eye
view of the planes behind me, one by one taking off and leaving
Molesworth behind. It seemed to take longer than usual to get into
formation. I guessed because of the large number of planes involved
in the raid. Once the formation was set, we began our climb and
started across the channel to France. The navigator was the
designated crewman to keep us abreast of the altitude.
Once we were over 10,000 feet, I kept a close check on my oxygen
mask to
make sure it was working and then the heater connections on my
flight suit.
The crossing was uneventful and we reached our cruising altitude ok
but as we proceeded inland over Calais, we started to get hit hard
by enemy fire from German fighter planes. They seemed to be swarming
everywhere. I could see three of them heading in from the rear with
flames bursting from their guns and up above them, two P-47's almost
upside down swinging around to come in behind them. I began blasting
away on my twin 50’s and almost immediately, I hit one of the yellow
nose German fighters right on and smoke started billowing out of his
engine. I was trembling as he caught on fire and exploded right
there in front of me. He just seemed to disintegrate as he veered
off to the right and started to spin out of control.
We approached the target area at 1030 hours and at this point, the
flak from the anti-aircraft guns was really heavy. The Germans
seemed to be going all out to keep us at bay but we were in a tight
formation as always and the engines just droned on moving us closer
and closer to the target area. This was the most dangerous part and
the guns below seemed to be aimed right on us. I could see black
puffs of smoke from the flak everywhere; then I was startled by a
few bursts that blasted a couple of small holes right through the
tail.
At 1045, it was bombs away. About 3 minutes later we began our turn
to go back. We had no sooner leveled out and we took a direct hit to
the outboard starboard engine and there was no doubt in my mind that
we were going down. I was terrified as the plane dipped almost 90 degrees and
as I looked over my shoulder to the left, I watched in horror as another direct
hit tore one of the wings off and it went fluttering down like a
leaf in the wind.
I immediately grabbed for my chest pack and
started to squeeze by the landing gear but as I started to work my
way forward to put on my chute and bail out, there was a massive
explosion followed by an enormous ball of fire that came rolling
down the fuselage towards me. I thought for sure I would be killed
but just as the billowing orange flames were about to reach me, the
tail section of the plane ripped away from the main fuselage. I felt
the enormous heat as well as the acrid smell of burning fuel and
then the sounds of metal stretching and creaking and breaking apart.
In a matter of seconds, the tail section had torn completely away
from the fully engulfed main fuselage of the plane and began
spinning earthward with me in it.
Because of the blast and the fire, I felt certain that everyone else
on the plane was dead. We were at 18,000 feet when we took the hit
and I tried desperately to get out of the tail as it continued
downward. It kept spinning in circles hurling me from side to side
and my chute was caught on something. I remembered tying my shoes to
my chute and this was what was giving me trouble. Nothing seemed to
be going in my favor and it took me forever before I managed to work
myself loose and get it on. My only way out was to jump from the
large opening where the tail separated from the plane but the way it
was twirling about I was not sure if I could make it. I could feel
the cold air gushing by as I struggled forward on my hands and knees
towards the opening. There was a little more space to move about now
but I felt very dizzy. I knew that I had to concentrate and not pass
out. As I approached the edge of the opening, I could see the ground
below spinning round and round in circles.
We had just had some training on bailing out and some of the figures
were going through my head like a buzz saw. I knew that I only had
about 3 minutes to get my ass out of this tail section of the plane
before it became a heap of useless rubble on the ground below. I was
unable to stand up and decided to just roll out of the opening. I
grabbed for the rip cord as I went over the edge.
The next thing I felt was the chute plump open above me and the tug
against my body as my descent slowed down very abruptly. The chute
was spinning erratically at first but I was able to bring it under
control fairly quickly. For a brief moment, I felt some relief to be
out in the open. I could see a wooded area directly below me and was
surprised that I was so close to the ground. I estimated it to be
about 800 feet or less and the ground was coming up to meet me fast.
I never saw the tail or any other part of the plane again but I had
a good chance to look around before hitting the ground and saw a
dirt road and several farm houses to the right of the woods. There
was not much wind and I landed without event in an open spot in the
heavily wooded area. The jolt of landing sent me tumbling into the
damp furrowed ground but I recovered quickly and got my chute off
and untied the laces that had been holding my shoes. I sat there in
the middle of the field somewhat dazed from the events that had
unfolded so quickly. Sure as hell, Riechter and all the others were
dead, why not me? Jesus, here I was all alone in German Occupied
France. I knew that I was not far from the Rocket Sites so there had
to be Germans close by. What next? I better get my ass into those
woods and hide, then what? No time to think about it now, just get
the friggin chute covered and hide somewhere.
I took my boots off and put the shoes on and
commenced to cover the chute as well as my heated flying boots. I
found some large rocks and put those on it along with some sod and
weeds. When I had finished, my hands were covered with mud and I
noticed that my left hand was cut and bleeding quite badly. I moved
several of the rocks to get to the chute and I took out my pocket
knife and cut off enough material to make a bandage for my hand. I
clumsily wrapped my hand and once the chute was covered again, I
headed towards the area where I had seen the farm houses. It was
almost 1400 hours when I reached the clearing at the edge of the
woods. From here, I could see one of the houses. There was a dirt
road at this point but absolutely no sounds or activity of any kind
and I was hoping that my low altitude parachute drop escaped the
eyes of the German soldiers. I decided to wait until it was almost
dark before heading out into the open.
At 1630 hours, it was almost dusk and I came out of my hiding place
and headed for the farm house. While waiting there in the woods, I
decided that I had to place my trust in whoever lived at the farm
with the hope that they would take me in and somehow help me get
back to England. The worst case scenario was that they would turn me
in to the Germans and I would sit out the rest of the war in a
prison camp. As I got closer to the house, I saw an older man about
my size walking from an outhouse toward the main house. He spotted
me and stopped, probably wondering who the hell I was. I had no idea
what to say but thought he would surely understand the word
American.
"Hello, my name is James MacGregor. I am an American. My plane was
shot down."
He stood motionless just looking at me and then he came closer. He
obviously could see my flight suit.
"La hâte, viennent à l'intérieur. Il peut y
avoir des Allemands"
[Quickly, come inside, there can be Germans]
I had taken French for two years in high school but even so it was
difficult for me to understand what he said. I thought it might have
been "go inside" as he was motioning for me to enter the house. I
did exactly as he had directed and as soon as we were in he started
to talk very rapidly to an older woman.
"Claudine, Claudine...... ceci est un
Américain et il a besoin de sa main prise en compte. Il doit être de
l'avion que nous avons vu pour descendre aujourd'hui."
[Claudine, Claudine...... this is an American and he needs his hand
taken care of. He must be from the plane which we saw to descend
today]
They led me into the kitchen and commenced to take the bandage off
my hand. Both of my hands were covered with mud but she soon had
them cleaned up and I was able to see the cut. It was fairly deep
but for the life of me, I could not remember it happening. Once my
hand was cleaned up, she put some kind of antiseptic on it and then
she cut some bandage strips from what appeared to be an old cut up
parachute and wrapped them around my hand.
The Frenchman motioned me to sit down and we tried for over and hour
as best we could to communicate with one another. Even though we
understood only portions of what each of us was saying, it was
obvious that he was anti-German and wanted to help me. From our sign
language and common sounding words, I was able to gather that
tomorrow they would contact their friend Jacques-Adrian Royer.
Apparently he spoke fluent English and it could be decided what we
could do to get me back to England. This was Christmas Eve and they
shared what little food they had with me. It was too risky for me to
sleep in the house because they would be shot if caught harboring me
so the Frenchman took me out to his barn and I settled in there for
the night. It was a far cry from the evening I had been looking
forward to with the USO.
Christmas Day, Saturday, December 25, 1943
The following morning at 0700 hours I woke up to the sound of a
horse being bridled. It was the Frenchman getting his horse hooked
up to a small buggy. He mentioned the name Jacques-Adrian Royer
again so I assumed he was on his way to talk to him. Soon after he
had gone, his wife brought out a small bowl of cooked potatoes for
me to eat and over her arm she had some pants, a shirt, a jacket and
a cap for me to wear. I could see that they were anxious to change
my appearance so I quickly donned the clothes that she brought me.
The woman took my flight clothes and burned them in the wood stove.
At about 0945 hours, the Frenchman was back with another man.
Jacques-Adrian Royer was quick to introduce himself to me. He told
me that Hervé-Jacques Larocque and Claudine Larocque were his aunt
and uncle and that he lived about 5 kilometers away. He said it was
not safe for me to stay here so close to the crash site.
"James, we need to get you to Abbeville. I have some friends there
that will be able to get you some French identification and then
from there, we need to connect you to others in the underground and
move you out of the country as quickly as possible. Most of those
who have made it have gone south to Spain. They are a neutral
country and will arrest you for a while but then you will be
deported and taken to Gibraltar and hopefully back to England."
"I'm ready to do as you say Jacques. How will we get to Abbeville?"
"Right now, we are south of Hesdin and it is about 35 Kilometers to
Abbeville. From here, we will go directly to my place where we will
stay overnight. In the morning, we will set out for Abbeville. My
friend Jean-Louis Ménard lives just north of Abbeville so I can
leave you in his care. Once you have some ID, you will be able to
travel freely on the train. Hervé said that you know some French but
not much. Since you do not speak fluent French, they will probably
send someone with you and perhaps have you pose as a deaf mute just
in case you get into a situation where you might otherwise have to
speak."
Jacques seemed to know the area quite well. In a few minutes, I said
goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Laroucque and we immediately set off for
Jacques place. We had no sooner reached the edge of the woods when
we heard the sound of vehicles off in the distance down the road. We
crept down into the brush and watched as two German Army vehicles
approached the house. There were four soldiers, two went into the
house and the other two went into the barn. We were not close enough
to hear what they were saying but by the tone of their voices we
both knew that they were looking for downed flyer’s. From our
viewpoint, we continued to watch as the Germans spent some time
searching the house and then barn. In a short while they returned to
the vehicle, turned around, and headed back down the dirt road.
"Come James, we have to move on now. The Germans found no sign of
anyone at the house but they will move on down the road checking
each house in the area. My house is much further back and I don't
think they will go there. When we arrive, I want you to remain in
the woods while I check out the barn and the house first just to
make sure it is safe to go in."
He told me the German patrols stayed mostly on the road. During our
time together in the woods, I found out that he had gone to college
in the United States, thus accounting for his excellent command of
the English language. He had studied to be a construction engineer
but his love for the French Countryside brought him back to France.
We arrived at Jacques place at about 1300 hours. It was a farm house
much the same as the Larocque's except it was larger and much
further back off the dirt road. I stayed in the thick brush while
Jaques made his way towards the house. There were no vehicles or
sounds and I watched until he disappeared inside. In about 5 minutes
he was back and told me all was ok.
We walked quickly down to the house and as soon as we were inside,
Jacques called out.
"Brigitte, I'm back."
He had no sooner spoken than a young woman entered the room.
"Yes Jacques, so this is the American then?"
I was surprised to see that she spoke English as well as Jaques. She
walked over towards me and Jacques introduced us.
"Brigitte, this is James MacGregor, the American who's bomber was
shot down near Hesdin yesterday, James, my sister Brigitte."
She appeared to be just about my age, deep blue eyes and dark black
hair and quite pretty. We all sat around the kitchen table as
Brigitte served some hot coffee made from almond and apple leaves
and a biscuit which she said was left over from the Christmas Eve
dinner the night before. She went on to tell me that food had been
very scarce this winter and that they had not had real coffee since
1941. The biscuit was delicious but the almond-apple leaf coffee was
much stronger than I was used to, however, I was thankful to have it
and drank it all down. With all the events of the past two days, I
had totally forgotten about this being Christmas Day. She went on to
say that the Germans had been to the house and searched about two
hours ago.
Jaques broke into her conversation to say, "I didn't think they
would come back this far James. As I told you earlier, it is very
dangerous for you to remain in this area. If we hear any signs of
vehicles at all, I want you to head straight for the woods that we
just came out of and hide out there. We have to make sure that there
is no sign of your presence in the house or they will take us in for
questioning and we might never return."
Brigitte wanted to know more about the bombing we had done
yesterday. She had heard that the Germans were building a vast
underground facility all along the coast to the west of us.
"What was your mission......this bombing mission your air force
carried out yesterday? We could see hundreds of planes in the sky
first heading south and then they made a turn left and disappeared
on the horizon."
"It was the V-Rocket sites that we were after Brigitte. The Germans
are massing hundreds of rocket bombs to launch over London and other
British targets. We had over 1000 planes in the air including
fighters. The Germans came after us with everything they had and I'm
sure many more planes besides mine were shot down by enemy fire."
"I had a feeling that area along the coast just to the west of us
was your target. We are not permitted to travel anywhere near there
so Jaques and I both felt that the Germans were up to something. I
have never heard the term V-Rocket, what is that James?"
“The best way I can describe it to you is a long slender bomb with a
small engine and wings and they travel at speeds over 300 miles per
hour. They only have a certain amount of fuel and they drop out of
the sky when the engine quits.”
“Oh my, now I can see why you had so many bombers to destroy this
awful type of weapon. These bombs with wings could drop anywhere
killing civilians, children, old helpless people with no regard for
who they are.”
Later than afternoon, I helped Jacques with some chores out in the
barn. He had some pigs out there and a cow he said was for milk and
cheese. I could see that he was very busy tending a work horse that
was also in one of the stalls. He said in the spring, he would use
the horse to plow the fields for planting. It was hard for me to
believe that I had come down in a world so different than my own. We
also discussed the war in general and I could tell that he was very
bitter towards the Germans for having invaded his country and he
assured me that he would do everything in his power to help me get
back to England where I could take up the task of ridding their
county of the invaders. Once again he told me that the Germans
mainly patrolled the main roads but now that they had come back this
far, they might do it again.
"We will leave at 6 in the morning James. It will be dark in about
an hour and it's not likely the Germans will be out looking for
downed airmen at night. It will take us about two hours to get to
the river Authie and then about three more hours to Abbeville. For
the most part, the countryside will be much the same as we had this
morning. I will have Brigitte make us a sandwich to take with us and
we can rest up a bit and eat at the halfway point. In Abbeville, you
will be able to stay at the home of Jean-Louis. He is the one who
will be able to get you your identification papers".
I didn't realize until it was almost dark outside that Jaques and
his sister lived in their house without electricity. There were
several kerosene lanterns burning when Jaques and I went into the
house for the night. It was very hard for me to imagine life without
electricity but I guess they managed to get along without it. We
gathered around the kitchen table in the dim light and we all three
held hands while Brigitte said a blessing. She had prepared some
leftover rabbit from their meal the night before. After dinner, the
three of us sat there and talked more about the war. Brigitte was
the first to speak.
"So, what can you tell us about how the war is going. We hear so
little here."
"I arrived in England in February of 1943 Brigitte. Since that time,
there has been an enormous build up of Allied Forces, especially
within the 8th Air Force. My first two missions we had only about 27
bombers in the squadron and this last mission, over 675 bombers,
with new units coming in every week. I was pretty much out of things
for about 3 months when my bomber crashed over Scotland while we
were returning from my 3rd mission. Once I returned to my bomber
group, the buildup was very noticeable. If things keep going the
same, by mid 1944, we will surely have complete air superiority over
all of Europe."
Jaques replied, "You didn't tell me you had crashed before James.
Did everyone survive?"
"Unfortunately Jaques, there were only two survivors, me and my
friend Hetrick. The last I saw him he was doing well in a small
hospital in Hawick, Scotland. Our B-17 had been shot up very badly
with the pilot and navigator both killed. The weather was very bad
and we ended up way off course to the north of our base. This was a
very unusual event for me as Hawick is my father's home town and I
was able to meet some of my relatives as well as many of my father's
friends.
Brigitte was quick to reply, "That certainly was strange. Were you
hurt badly?"
"I had quite a few broken ribs and a broken leg. It took me about 2
months to heal and then they sent me back to my squadron."
"You must have an angel on your shoulder”.
As the evening wore on, we talked more about life in America and how
many women there were working in the aircraft factories, steel mills
and such and holding down jobs that in peacetime, only men would do.
I told them about my trip to California in my car, my visit with my
parents and my sister and how different everything in America was
compared to England and France. Brigitte was tickled to hear the
account of my surprise meeting with Peggy and how the two of us
traveled together in my car back to Ohio. I went into some detail
describing the various states that we passed through on the way
back. Both of them were amazed that there was enough gasoline in
America for me to make such a trip and even more astounded that
someone as young as me owned a car.
Jaques went off to find me a blanket telling me he had a cot he
would lay out for me to sleep on meanwhile Brigitte made some more
coffee and gave me another biscuit. She said it was very difficult
for them living here under the Germans. Everything about these two
people who were helping me filled my heart with appreciation for
what they were doing.
It was about 2000 hours when I settled in for the night. I feel
asleep very quickly and awoke to the sound of Brigitte's voice.
Sunday, December 26, 1943
"Wake up James, it's almost time for you to go."
It was 0530 hours. I was right off the kitchen and could feel the
warmth coming from the wood stove. In a few minutes I was up and
ready to go. Brigitte had baked a loaf of bread after I had gone to
bed last night and we had more of the almond-apple leaf coffee and a
piece of bread and jam. Jaques was already out in the barn as
Brigitte and I stood next to the stove drinking down our coffee. As
soon as I had finished my bread and jam, I hugged her and thanked
her for helping me and then headed for the barn.
"Ah, there you are James. I was just about to come in and look for
you."
Jaques had already taken care of the chores and we were ready to go.
We headed off towards the south. It was a cold, wet and misty
morning and I was glad to have the warm jacket that Claudine
Larocque had given to me.
Jaques took the lead with with me following closely behind. The
first part of our journey was mostly through wooded areas mixed with
open farmland. It didn't take long for the bottom of my pants to get
wet from the tall grass and bushes that seemed to edge each of the
farms. At 0700 hours it started to rain as we continued to move on
towards the south. It was very overcast and I would not have know
which direction we were going were it not for Jaques. We had been
underway for about an hour when Jaques cautioned me about a road we
had to cross.
"We are approaching a very small place called Regnauville. We have
to cross a main road here. The woods extends all the way up to the
road but I want you to lay back and let me see if it is clear before
we cross."
"Ok Jaques"
I stopped and crept down as Jaques moved out of sight in the trees.
He was back in a few minutes and said it was all clear. We quickly
approached the main road and made our crossing, once again ducking
back into the trees on the other side. I did not see any vehicles in
either direction as we crossed. I could see two houses up ahead and
we veered off to the east to avoid them. The rain continued to come
down and both of us were quite wet but neither of us was cold
because of the forced walking. We reached the river Authie at 0800
hours and Jaques told me this would be the most dangerous spot along
our trail as we had to go up onto the bridge to get across. He said
there was a very small town here called Labroye. We were east of the
bridge making our way along the north bank of the river when all of
a sudden we heard the noise of vehicles. We both hugged the ground
and watched as about a dozen German vehicles approached the bridge
heading north. It was still very misty and drizzling rain as we laid
there in the mud and wet grass praying that the Germans had not seen
us. The lead vehicle came to a halt and one of the soldiers
got out and came over to the edge of the bridge.
"Was sehen Sie unten dort,
Kruger?"
"What is is you see, Kruger?"
"Ich dachte, daß es etwas unten
dort in der Bürste, Sergeant gab. Wünschen Sie mich unten gehen und
es heraus überprüfen?."
"I thought there was something down there in
the brush, Sergeant. Do you want me to go down and check it out?"
"Es muß ein Tier, Kruger, Sie
sein weiß, wieviele wir entlang die Straße gesehen haben, außerdem
Oberst Von Estrom pissed, wenn wir dieses Material dort nicht
rechtzeitig erhalten. Erhalten Sie zurück innen und lassen Sie uns
gehen."
"It must be an animal, Kruger, you know how
many we have seen along the road, besides, Colonel Von Estrom will
be pissed if we don't get this stuff there on time. Get back in and
let's go."
We layed there motionless in the wet mud and
were very relieved when we heard the truck convoy begin to move
across the bridge. We waited a full 5 minutes after all the
trucks had passed before we got up and began to move on.
"I will go over the bridge first James and then
down the bank on the other side and duck under the bridge. You will
be able to see me from here and I will wave my hands in the air for
you to cross the bridge. Run as quickly as you can across the
bridge. We are fortunate to have this bad weather as none of the
townspeople seem to be out and about."
I watched as Jaques climbed up the bank and then onto the bridge. It
did not take him long to reach the other side and give me the
signal. I followed his path up the bank and ran across the bridge
and down the other side and ducked under the bridge where he was
sitting. He allowed me to catch my breath a minute and then we
followed the river bank east for about a kilometer before we headed
towards the south again.
"We can rest easier now that we have passed this point. The
remainder of the trip is through farmland and trees. My friend
Ménard lives north of Abbeville in an area much like my place."
We trudged on for about another half hour and then stopped to eat
and rest. We found a spot that was somewhat sheltered from the rain
that continued to fall. Jacques removed the sandwiches from the
knapsack he was carrying and handed one to me. They were wrapped in
an old news paper and when I opened mine, a hand written note fell
out. It was from Brigitte. It said, "Good Luck on your journey
James. I will pray for you every step of the way. I know you will
make it back to England. A man does not crash one bomber and jump
out of another with a parachute unless it is God's will that he
live."
I was quite touched that she had taken the time to write this note
to me. Jaques was curious about what it was and I told him what she
had written.
"Brigitte is very religious James. She has placed herself in the
hands of the Lord Jesus. I am not the same. I just believe what will
be will be."
"When we get to your friends house Jaques, I want to borrow a pencil
so that I can answer her. You two are my salvation and I want you
both to know how grateful I am for endangering yourself just to help
me."
"Ok, I'm sure you can write your note when we get to Ménard's and I
will carry it back to Brigitte for you."
After we finished our sandwich, Jaques gathered up the papers the
sandwiches had been wrapped in and put them back into his knapsack.
I was beginning to see a pattern that nothing should be left behind
that would show someone had passed through this area. The rain
continued to drizzle for the next two hours and we were both
drenched as we arrived near the outskirts of Abbeville. The farm
houses were set closer together in this area and Jaques pointed out
the home of Jean-Louis. Ménard was not expecting us of course and
once again Jaques had specific instructions for me.
"Jean-Louis knows nothing about us being here at this point so it's
best if I go up to the house alone. One thing you will find out on
your journey is that each new person you meet like Ménard will only
know the names of two people, me and the next person along the line
he will take you to. This way, if he gets caught, only two people in
the underground will be exposed. You can see the house from here.
Watch for me to come back out and give you the signal that it’s ok."
There was an old broken log from a tree that had fallen and I sat
there and watched as Jaques made his way to the farm house. He
disappeared inside the house for a few minutes and then he came back
out and gave me the signal to come down to the house. It felt
wonderful to feel the heat of the stove inside Ménard's home and
Jaques and I stood in front of the stove as he introduced me to
Ménard.
"Jean-Louis, this is James MacGregor, the American I was telling you
about."
Ménard took my hand into both of his and shook it with great
enthusiasm. By his smile and demeanor I knew right off that I had
another friend I could count on to help me along the way. He was a
short man, slightly balding, greyish-black moustache. He spoke
broken english but good enough for me to understand what he was
talking about. Jaques told him that I would need papers and money to
get to the next stop along the way. As the two of them were talking,
Ménard poured us each a small glass of wine.
"Jean-Louis, dès que je dessécherai je doivent
obtenir de nouveau à Hesdin."
[Jean-Louise, As soon as I dry out a little I have to get back to
Hesdin]
"Jaques, j'ai pensé que vous pourriez passer
la nuit ici. Elle est étée un long moment puisque je vous ai parlé.
Sûrement vous ne devez pas retourner tellement rapidement?"
[Jaques, I thought you could spend the night here. It's been a long
while since I have talked to you. Surely you don't have to return so
quickly?]
"Je dois récupérer Jean-Louis, ma soeur est
tout seule là maintenant et je n'aime pas cela particulièrement avec
les Allemands regardant tout autour de la manière qu'ils sont. Si
vous seriez si aimable, MacGregor voudrait écrire une note à ma
soeur et a besoin d'un crayon et d'un papier."
[I must return Jean-Louis, my sister is all alone there now and I
particularly do not like that with the Germans looking at all around
the manner that they are. If you would be so kind, MacGregor would
like to write a note to my sister and needs a pencil and a paper]
"Je comprends Jaques, vous dois prendre du
potage chaud d'oignon avant que vous alliez. Laissez-moi obtenir le
papier et le crayon."
[I understand Jaques, you must have some hot onion soup before you
go. Let me get the paper and pencil]
Jaques translated for me telling me that he was going to stay only
long enough to have a bowl of soup and then he would be heading back
to Hesdin. He was afraid with Brigitte being there all alone. Also,
that he would carry my message to Brigitte. Ménard brought me a
pencil and paper and I sat there at the table with Jaques as he ate
his soup and I wrote my note to Brigitte.
Dear Brigitte,
Thank you so much for your words of encouragement. I am truly
blessed to have met you and Jaques and perhaps one day I can return
when France is liberated. I know with your help and prayers, that I
will survive this war. Keep your eyes on the sky because one of
these days, I will be back in one of those bombers up there and wave
down to you. God Bless you.
James MacGregor
As soon as I was finished, Jaques was ready to go. We shook hands
and that was not enough so we hugged each other.
"Goodbye Jaques, take good care of your sister. There is no way that
I can ever thank you enough for helping me."
"Yes, you can James. When you get back to England, keep bombing the
hell out of the Germans."
I handed Jaques the note and he and Ménard walked outside and the
two said goodbye. In a matter of minutes, he disappeared off into
the woods.
Once Jaques had gone, Ménard offered me some soup and another small
glass of wine. The two of us sat at the kitchen table, complete
strangers other than the fact that we both had the same goal and
that was getting me out of France and back to England.
Jean-Louis Ménard
|