“Oui.” She put on a smile and looked at Aline and Pierre. “It’s all arranged. My aunt and uncle are expecting you, and you can stay in their apartment for as long as you need.”
Aline’s eyes brightened.
“Bless you,” Pierre said.
They exited the station and walked for an hour over streets noticeably absent of motorized vehicles. Like the Paris Métro, the buses were not running. Other than a few military vehicles and fancy automobiles—no doubt owned by wealthy Parisians—the roads were being used by horse-drawn wagons, pedestrians, and bicyclists, most of whom appeared to be traveling through the city on their way south. Also, Ruth was surprised to see that many of the stores, coffee shops, and patisseries were open, even though most of the displays in the windows were bare. To Ruth, it appeared as if Parisians were either doing their best to maintain a sense of normalcy, or they were in a deep state of denial of the looming threat of Hitler’s armies.
Ruth looked at Jimmie, carrying Aline’s backpack over his good shoulder. “How’s your wrist?”
He raised his arm in the sling. “Getting better each day. No pain this morning.”
“I’m glad.” She pointed. “It’s not much farther. The neighborhood ahead is Le Marais, where my—”
A siren sounded.
Ruth froze.
Another sired wailed, then another.
Aline’s eyes widened. “What’s happening?”
“Air raid,” she said, struggling to remain calm. “Follow me. I know the location of a shelter.”
Ruth led them around a corner and down a street, but their route became clogged with hundreds of residents who were leaving apartment buildings in search of underground bunkers. She clasped Aline’s hand and weaved through the throng as the sirens grew to an ear-piercing roar. Antiaircraft guns, stationed in parks and green spaces around the city, began to fire. White puffs of smoke dotted the sky. Her heart pounded inside her chest.
“Hurry!” Ruth shouted.
Pierre labored to keep up. “Go without me!”
“Grandpapa!” Aline tried to pull away.
Ruth held tight to the girl’s hand and weaved her through the crowd.
Jimmie ran to Pierre, wrapped an arm around him, and helped him to quicken his pace.
The mass of people jostled their way over the sidewalk, nearly knocking Ruth from her feet. She struggled her way forward, all the while determined to get Aline to safety. A block away from the shelter, screams erupted from the crowd, compelling Ruth to turn her eyes to the sky. Over a hundred German bombers flew high above Paris, contested only by a squadron of French fighter planes and inaccurate antiaircraft fire. Seeds of destruction dropped from the bellies of the bombers and whistled to the ground.
Fear flooded Ruth’s veins. She pulled Aline through the multitude of people, and she prayed that there would be enough bunkers in Paris for everyone.
CHAPTER 27
PARIS, FRANCE—JUNE 3, 1940
Jimmie’s adrenaline surged from the sound of bombs detonating over the city. He helped Pierre, who was struggling to keep pace with the fast-moving crowd, to the entrance of an underground metro station that served the neighborhood of Le Marais. They followed Ruth and Aline down a narrow set of concrete stairs that was swarmed with people who were desperate to get underground. Once inside, they squeezed their way through the throng and hunkered together on the landing.
The ground trembled, and a piece of ceiling tile fell onto the train track. Beneath the rumble of bombs, whimpers and recital of prayers filtered through the subterranean passage. The lights, mounted to the tunnel walls, flickered and everything went black. A woman screamed, and a baby began to cry. Several people ignited cigarette lighters, and a few others turned on electric torches that they’d brought with them to the shelter.
Aline hugged her grandpapa.
Pierre drew a raspy inhale and held her tight. “It’ll be all right. The bombs can’t hurt us here.”
Jimmie looked at Ruth. A dull torch light shimmered on her face, filled with apprehension. He reached out his hand and felt her clasp his fingers.
More bombs rumbled from above. Heads rose to the arched, tile-covered ceiling.
Pierre kissed his granddaughter on her head. He stood straight with his chin raised high, placed his beret over his heart, and began to sing the French national anthem.
Ruth squeezed Jimmie’s hand. She closed her eyes, drew a breath, and sang along with Pierre. Her enchanting voice, like the timbre of a rare violin, resonated through the tunnel.
Wails and whimpers faded away, and Parisians steadily joined in, drowning out the muted rumble of explosions.
Jimmie, who didn’t know the words, hummed the chorus. He admired Ruth’s and Pierre’s determination to inspire people with hope and unity. A deep resolve burned within him, and he vowed to return to his squadron and do his part to rid the Luftwaffe from the sky.
The singing ended, but the raids continued. In total, five waves of German bombers dropped their payloads on Paris before the all-clear siren sounded. People, many of whom were fearful to leave the protection of the underground, cautiously made their way out of the station.
On the street, Jimmie was met by an acrid smell of expelled explosives. A fire burned in a nearby neighborhood, but—in the west of the city—countless thick plumes of smoke rose high into the atmosphere. Horns of fire trucks blared.
Bloody hell. How could pilots knowingly drop bombs on civilians? Anger flared inside him.
“Come on,” Ruth said, touching his shoulder. “We need to go.”
Jimmie turned away from the fire plumes. He followed her and the others down a congested sidewalk, packed with people—their mouths agape in a state of shock and dismay.
The four traveled several blocks to a Lutetian limestone building next to a closed Jewish bakery. They entered, climbed the stairs to a third-floor landing, and Ruth removed a key from a pocket of her uniform and opened the door. Inside, Ruth showed Aline and Pierre their room straightaway, and she told them to help themselves to food in the kitchen.
“My aunt and uncle will be working late at the hospital,” Ruth said. “I wish I could stay, but I need to report to the ambulance corps.”
“I understand,” Pierre said.
