Spring unfurled in Noyers. Emerald leaves draped over trees and butterflies danced among flowers. Adeline Beaumont cycled along the cobblestones street. The half-timbered houses seemed to shrink as she approached the German headquarters. From its balcony, the red flag with Swastika flew in the breeze. The German soldiers moved through the village square. Their faces were like carved ice, reflecting nothing of the warmth of the spring day.
The butcher shop was almost within reach. Adeline saw the long queue snaking out of the door. The French people lined up to buy the rationed meat, their expression etched with weariness. She parked her bicycle and then joined the line. Everyone conversed with each other. The murmur of conversation was a hum of shared hardship.
"How can I survive if I only get two and a half ounces of boneless meat a week?" A man in mid-forties said, his voice tight with frustration.
"Those German occupiers make us starve to death. They take everything from us."
Behind Adeline, a fat woman talked to her, "Yesterday, I paid twenty-seven francs for a pound of butter at a black market. If you buy anything there, they will charge everything at a high price," she shook her head, a mixture of anger and despair glinting in her eyes.
"Some people try to enrich themselves at the expense of others in need!" Adeline said.
Every so often the food shortage became the main topic of conversation among the French people. The Germans took over the majority of the food production that inflicted starvation and malnutrition on the French people.
An hour passed, it was Adeline's turn to buy the rationed meat. The butcher collected the meat coupon from her ration sheet and then gave two and a half ounce of boneless meat to her. She walked out of the butcher shop toward her bicycle. A shadow moved at the edge of her vision. An Alsatian dog with a coat of black and tan approached her cautiously, its nose drawn to the scent of meat. She knelt down, smiled and said, "Hi, buddy. Where is your master? Are you lost?"
The dog looked at Adeline with his soulful eyes, barked softly and wagged his tail. Unexpected to her, he took her brown felt hat with its mouth.
"You like it, huh?" Adeline chuckled, stroking his head.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps came near to Adeline. It was a familiar sound in her ears after the defeat of France in 1940. No one could produce the rhythmical footsteps except the one and only enemy who walked proudly on the conquered land. Then a pair of black jackboots appeared from her sight. She still knelt down, her eyes fixed on those boots, as motionless as a statue and even her face grew pale. This was the first time she encountered the enemy at such close proximity. She heard his voice talking to the dog in German, "Ach, bist du hier!" She rose to her feet, her eyes finally meeting his. He was a young soldier – tall, blond with sapphire blue eyes. His calm, tough expression portrayed a dashing knight.
Adeline fell silent but a flurry of thoughts shot through her mind. "Is he the one who took my brother prisoner? How many French men were shot dead by him? Did he also kill the Polish, Holland, Belgian, Luxembourger . . ." She automatically named all nations because she knew Germany had conquered much of Europe.
He smiled at her. A thrilling sensation rose up in his heart, a kind of wonderful feeling when a man was captivated by a woman. "Bonjour. This dog belongs to our regiment. He strolled so far that I lost him. He seems to like you. I can see he can get along with you. Do you live around here?"
He spoke French fluently but his German accent sounded thick in Adeline's ears. She remained silent, refusing answer his question. A burning feeling of patriotism, pain and anger consumed her. Her silence was her protest against the occupation. She knew her resistance was insignificant because she was powerless against the might of the German army. But in that moment, her refusal to speak became a source of pride. She put on an icy expression so he would understand she didn't want to talk with him and she didn't like him being around her.
He still waited for Adeline's answer. He wanted to make her speak so he could hear her voice. She turned around, mounted her bicycle and rode away. Though her distant was clear, it didn't deter him. Turning to the dog, he noticed something. Adeline's hat was clutched gently in its jaw. She was already a considerable distance away. He snatched the hat and ran after her.
"Mademoiselle, wait! Your hat!" His shout drew the attention of passersby. All eyes turned to Adeline and him. The air was thick with whispers. The French people began to gossip. They thought she had a relationship with the German.
A flicker of surprise crossed Adeline's face. She instinctively touched her head, realizing her hat was gone. Stopping her bicycle, she turned, seeing him running toward her.
"I apologize for the inconvenience. I didn't expect the dog to steal it from you," he smiled, handing the hat to her.
Adeline took it, put it on her head and remained silent.
He tried to reengage her, said, "Today is a beautiful . . ." But his words were cut short by her abrupt departure. He looked at her from a distance, saying with an admiring tone of voice, "Heute ist ein schöner Tag, so schön wie du."
On the way home, Adeline's mind was still haunted by the German soldier she met before. She didn't expect she had such an experience; meeting with the enemy at such close proximity, even he talked and smiled at her in friendliness. What she thought about a German soldier was the one who killed French men and took her brother prisoner. She tried not to dwell on him because it would waste her time.
Adeline's house came into view from a distance. It was a half-timbered house with brilliant white walls that gleamed in the sunlight. Red geraniums, bright as a red lipstick, gaily decorated its façade in well-tended boxes. She was anxious when she saw the gray car parking in front of her house. She stepped inside, her heart racing. She heard an unfamiliar voice, French mangled with a harsh German accent, "Your son's room perfectly suitable. He'll arrive this evening." Inquisitive, she followed the voice coming from the dining room. There, the German soldier stood before Jeanne; her mother's face was a mask of suppressed anger, her hazel eyes blazing with a silent scream. He offered a curt nod before departing, leaving behind a trail of icy indifference.
"What is he doing here?" Adeline asked scathingly.
"Our house has been requisitioned for a German officer. He'll sleep on Louis' bed," Jeanne went red in the face, her eyes filled with tears. "I'd rather burn it than let it fall into the enemy's hands!"
A surge of despair swept through Adeline, wounding to the core of her heart, so painful that she couldn't express her feelings in words. The German officer's arrival wasn't just an intrusion. It was a cold fist clenching around her heart. Her home was once a refuge. Now, it was a battlefield. The fight for survival had begun.