Bombers Moon

Everything is exactly the same as the night Chuck accidentally burned down the neighbor's barn, only the middle-aged farmer wielding a double-barreled shotgun has been replaced by an old woman with a pitchfork and her screaming granddaughter.Chuck could easily bring them both down, but if he did, he'd probably never forgive himself.The soldier jumped out of the box in embarrassment, and escaped from the window he had come from.After chasing for a while, the old woman stopped panting, panting with a pitchfork.The girl let the dog go, and the two toothy animals came round the barn, one of them dragging its chain and rattling.The sprained ankle hurt so badly, Chuck gritted his teeth and climbed over the fence, rolled around on the grass, got up, and continued to escape to the forest.The fence caught one of the dogs on its chain, and it was jerked back, spinning and barking.The other leaped over the fence, half-runned, half-jumped, and jumped at Chuck, biting his pant leg.Chuck kicked the animal hard with the other foot, forcing it to let go, and when it jumped up again, he punched the dog in the jaw, and the dog wailed and ran away, tail between its legs.

Chuck trekked through the pitch-black forest for a good while, maybe three or ten minutes, which felt like two centuries.To be on the safe side, he waded across the creek where the current was gentle so that the dogs would not follow the scent and catch up.A huge dead tree fell by the stream. Chuck climbed into the hollowed-out trunk and curled up. Some furry rodent was disturbed and ran away rustling among the rotting leaves. Many small claws rubbed in the dark. over Chuck's feet and the back of his hands.

Chuck touched his swollen ankle and sighed. He had to find a way to stop the condition of his ankle from deteriorating, otherwise he wouldn't be able to reach the Dutch border.He knew that French and Dutch resistance groups were operating in bits and pieces across the border, because the RAF had dropped radio components and weapons on these stragglers in the dark.They are Chuck's only hope of returning to England.

He changed positions a few times, resting his head on the dead wood, and tried to sleep.After a few minutes, I was so cold that I crawled out again. I picked up the dead leaves that gave off a moldy smell and piled them on my body to keep warm, ignoring the mud and insects inside.Louie would probably wrinkle his nose if he could see him now, like he did when he discovered that Chuck couldn't handle the dessert fork properly.

Louis.Chuck whispered the name in his head and moved among the dead leaves, looking for a position that didn't cause pain.He must think Chuck is dead, because that's how Louie's defense mechanism works, clinging to the worst-case scenario first, lest hope be hurt.Chuck was thinking about how he would describe to the second lieutenant what happened tonight. He should keep the part about being chased by dogs and not mention stealing eggs in a word.

He didn't sleep for long, and as soon as he closed his eyes, he was awakened by the sound of dogs barking and cutting trees with knives.Pale light filtered through the cracks in the tree trunks, and Chuck remained motionless, holding his breath, listening to the sounds outside.It must have been a big search party, for voices came from every direction.He leaned over to the narrow wood crack and observed the situation outside.Under a tree at eleven o'clock, a dog was sniffing the bushes, followed by two peasants in baggy shirts and overalls, both carrying shotguns, both gray-haired, one without He lost his right eye, which is probably why he was not sent to the front line.Chuck estimated that the possibility of bringing down these two old guys was not high, but it was not impossible. It would be better if they split up.

Then another group of dogs emerged from the woods, a real group of seven or eight dogs, followed by a fat man in a checkered coat.The old woman and girl on the farm must have woken up the whole village and probably notified the Gestapo.The pack of dogs is getting closer and closer to the dead tree.Chuck hurried away from the crack in the trunk and rubbed the dead leaf mixed with humus onto his face and hands, hoping it would disturb the hound's sense of smell.A hound as black as pitch leaned over a crack in the trunk, sniffled his nose, ran away, turned back after a while, and barked at the dead tree.

Chuck crawled out on hands and feet under the supervision of the dogs and three shotguns. The fat man in the plaid coat tied Chuck's hands behind his back with hemp rope and said something to him. Chuck stared at him in confusion. He, the fat man raised his voice and yelled that sentence again.The one-eyed man in overalls came over, pushed the fat man away, looked Chuck up and down, and threw him sharp English: "Are you a British spy?"

"I'm American," Chuck replied, twisting his wrist. The rope was too tight. "I'm a pilot."

The other party narrowed the only remaining eye suspiciously.

"I fly a plane." Chuck explained in another way, subconsciously glanced at the sky, as if looking for a legend, "Plane, do you understand?"

Cyclops switched back to German and discussed something with his companion in a low voice.The fat man whistled and called the hound back, and Cyclops tugged on the rope, beckoning Chuck to follow him.The dog followed Chuck closely, snapping and snapping every time he stumbled with a sore ankle.

The three farmers half-pushed Chuck back to the village and shut him in a windowless stone tool shed, locked with vine baskets, barrels, and tin cake molds, leaving two of them outside. Guard, Chuck could hear their conversation now and then.Around noon, someone came in to give him water, which was filled in a cup with a chipped corner, and gave off a slight muddy smell.Chuck drank it, and it couldn't have gotten any worse anyway.

When it was dark, the light in the crack of the door also disappeared, the guard smoked, and a strong smell rushed in.In the distance, dogs barked, and it took a while to quiet down.Chuck heard the conversation, then the footsteps faded away, and the smell of tobacco disappeared.Someone knocked lightly on the wooden door: "American, can you hear me?"

It was the voice of the one-eyed dragon. Chuck stood up quietly, walked to the door, and leaned against the wall without answering.

"I'm going to open this door, don't sneak up on me, okay? I'm here to help you."

The lock clicked and the door opened a crack, but it was still chained, and when Cyclops was sure Chuck wasn't going to lift the barrel and hit him on the head, he undid the chain and opened the door completely.He stuffed Chuck with the bread in his hand. "Tonight, come out after hearing the clock strike twice, understand?"

"what?"

"I will help you escape tonight, remember, the clock tower strikes twice."

"What clock tower? Why?"

The door slammed shut, the lock and chain back in place.

Chuck sat down on the floor, completely unaware that he was clutching the bread.Maybe it was a trap, deliberately letting the prisoner escape and then knocking him down like a pheasant for fun.But if he was going to be killed, why not do it in the forest?

He took a bite of the bread mechanically, his throat was blocked by anxiety, and he couldn't swallow it after chewing for a long time.The guard came back again, his boots thumping on the ground.The light from when a match was being lit flashed briefly through the crack of the door, and the smell of smoke wafted in again.At this moment, the bell rang. The bell tower should be far away, and the sound was weak and ethereal. If you don't listen carefully, you can't find it at all.Chuck counted, seven, seven o'clock at night.

He paced the small space, waiting for the next bell. 07:30, eight o'clock, 08:30, nine o'clock, ten o'clock, midnight will not come.He fell asleep between twelve o'clock and one o'clock, and woke up from the anxious dream, afraid that he had missed two o'clock.He put his ear against the crack of the door and waited. After a long time, the clock tower in the distance knocked, 01:30 in the morning.

Then came two o'clock.

The lock clicked open and Chuck slid out without waiting for a word, and Cyclops quickly re-locked the door of the stone house and led the American fugitive to sneak behind the stables, where there was a small well-swept yard with wheelbarrows and flatbed, and two trucks.Some house lights came on when the engine started, but by the time someone chased them out, the truck had bumped up the potholed road and disappeared behind the hill where the church was built.

"What's your name?" Cyclops asked.

charles.Chuck almost wanted to report his name truthfully, but hesitated for a moment: "You can just call me Jack."

The other party snorted, as if guessing that Chuck was not telling the truth: "We will throw away this car at dawn, and then we will walk. There should be someone in Dresden who can take us for a ride, and then we will not be far from the border. , it has nothing to do with me after crossing the border, understand, American Jack?"

"who are you?"

"You can call me Uncle Mathias."

"The Resistance?"

"The Resistance is a bunch of useless little kids." Uncle Mathias snorted again, "No, American Jack, I'm not from the Resistance, I'm just a teacher, I used to teach art history in Dresden , do you know how the Nazis rewarded me for my contributions to national education? Blind me in one eye because I stopped them from limewashing 'Jewish nasty paintings' in museums. Three months in hospital, then sat Six months in prison."

In order not to attract attention, Uncle Mathias switched off the headlights.Thick darkness covers the wilderness, only the moonlight barely outlines the blurred outlines of the road and trees.

"What do you do when you get back?" Chuck forced out a question.

Uncle laughed, "I won't come back to Germany, American Jack, there is no place for an art history teacher here. And they are short of manpower, they have already started recruiting old men like me to the front, I won't kill people, Never in this lifetime."

"Damn it."

"I'd run away without you, and if you slow me down, I'll throw you on the road, you know?"

Chuck could probably imagine his class style, nodded and didn't speak again.The truck shuddered and headed west with all its might.From time to time, Chuck looked back at the way he came, worried that the menacing military truck would catch up, but until dawn, this did not happen.