Bombers Moon

On the outskirts of a small town less than [-] kilometers away from the German-French border, Hannah got up early, took the sickle off the wall, and went to cut the fodder for the geese.

Hannah is 14 years old, and her mother says she is already a big girl, and she should be married in two or three years.When it comes to getting married, Hannah immediately thinks of Jurgen who used to live across the street. Jurgen, who is full of freckles, has two dimples when he smiles.She grew up with Jurgen, learning to swim in the same river and herding sheep in the same meadow.But Jurgen joined the army four years ago. No one knows where he ended up. The only thing that is certain is that he did not come back.Hannah doesn't want to marry anyone else.

The gosling is two months old and looks exactly like a goose, eating snails and aquatic plants like a bulldozer.Hannah had never seen a bulldozer before. It was the teacher who told her that the teacher had also joined the army. In Hannah's dictionary, joining the army is synonymous with unknown life and death.

She went around the abandoned mill and climbed over a broken wall, tying the hem of her skirt with a rope before she went out so it wouldn't catch anything.The mill's drying grounds used to house the Wehrmacht, and they've long since disappeared.A pile of helmets and wooden boxes of bullets were left behind, and sometimes Hannah would sneak here to play, wearing a helmet that was too big to cover her eyes, leaning on the broken wall, pretending to shoot into the forest.

The girl slipped between the collapsed grape trellises and the burnt trees, and jumped briskly towards the creek. The rattan basket on her back bumped against her lower back following her steps.Her mother forbade her to go this way, but it would take an extra 15 minutes to take the main road, and she might encounter the fierce big black dog of the Badenburg family. Hannah would never take the main road.

She walked to a place where the current was gentle, kicked off her shoes, stepped into the shallow water, and bent over to mow the grass.Summer has come, the stream is no longer icy cold, and the bees that have disappeared for the winter have appeared. In a week or two, the air will be filled with the sweet aroma of wild flowers. In this place, Jurgen once gave She put a wreath on Hannah's head, blushing, and praised her for being so beautiful.Hannah threw the fresh grass into the rattan basket and rested for a while, staring blankly at the stream.

There was a rustling sound in the woods behind.

Badgers are often seen around here, but these small animals are careful not to make such a loud noise.Hannah turned around sharply, yelled "Who's there", and raised her scythe.

There was no movement, and the wind blew lazily through the treetops, bringing the smell of resin and grass from upstream.Hannah stared warily at the bushes, not lowering her weapon.After a few minutes, the bushes swayed, and a man in ragged clothes walked out. His unkempt beard covered most of his face, and the area not covered by the beard was also covered with stains, whether it was blood or mud.Hannah took a step back and almost slipped and fell in the creek. She stood still, her toes sunk in the mud of the river bed, and she held the scythe with both hands. If the bum dared to take a step forward, Hannah would slit his throat.

The tramp spread his hands and whispered something in a language Hannah didn't understand.This poor ghost is probably a foreigner who escaped from a prisoner-of-war camp. Since Berlin was partitioned by foreigners, this kind of confused-looking prisoner of war has often appeared near the town, like a ghost, slowly but firmly drifting towards France and Holland. direction.

"I don't understand, and I can't help you." Hannah shook the sickle, "Let's go."

The stranger took a step forward, still holding his hands up to show her that he was unarmed, he had blue eyes like Jurgen, stopped five or six meters away from Hannah, and pointed Pointing to his mouth, he said something.

"Are you hungry?" Hannah asked.

The other party obviously didn't understand either. He neither affirmed nor denied, and pointed to his stomach.

Hannah hesitated for a while, holding the sickle in one hand, and untied the cloth bag tied around her waist with the other.Mum made her a sandwich this morning, a thin slice of prosciutto between two pitifully small slices of rye semolina.She tossed one of the slices to the bum, and the bread fell into the grass, and the stranger jumped at the food, popping it into his mouth quickly.Hannah pursed her lips, put down the sickle, and threw the remaining piece of bread with ham slices.

The stranger wolfed down everything, staggered to the edge of the stream, washed his hands and face, and shook his head like a big dog.Hannah couldn't help laughing, and the homeless man looked up at her and smiled under his beard, "Danke." He said softly in German, thank you.

"What's your name?" Hannah asked, who frowned in confusion and didn't answer.

"Forget it, when I didn't ask."

Perhaps hearing her discouragement, the tramp smiled again, and pointed to the west, "Frankreich?"

"Are you going to France?"

Hearing the word "France", the tramp nodded vigorously.

Hannah pointed to the southwest, "Over there."

"Over there," repeated the tramp, "France?"

"Yes, France."

The strange foreigner stood up, nodded to Hannah, and walked in the direction she pointed.The girl stood in the gurgling stream, watching him go away.She hoped that this stranger would find his home as soon as possible. In her imagination, she helped this man, as if she also helped Jurgen find his way home in secret.