The Haigerloch Project

On one side of the house was a small ground-level window to a basement. Timbers and masonry shattered by the bomb explosion blocked the window — one heavy, smoldering beam was wedged tightly across it. Pressed toward a tiny opening in the jam of rubble was the face of a little girl. Eight? Ten? Tear-stained, singed, eyes wide with horror and fear. She was screaming. Smoke billowed around her from the window, washed red by the flames behind her.

A big man was savagely hacking and slashing like a man possessed at the beam blocking the window, wielding a hefty tool, a broad-bladed, flat-tipped dagger. He chopped with the honed edge of the thick blade; he sawed with the sharp, saw-toothed edge. Automatically Dirk identified the tool. He had seen it once before. At Milton Hall. A souvenir. It was a Red Cross dagger. Carried by German rescue workers. Desperately the man was trying to cut through the massive beam. It was an impossible task.

The instant he saw Dirk and Sig come running up, he threw the tool aside.

“Here!” he shouted. “Lift here!” He ran to one end of the heavy timber. The masonry debris had been cleared away. It was possible to get a grip on the beam. “I cannot move it alone. The three of us…”

He bent down and grabbed hold of the thick log. At once Dirk and Sig followed suit. Straining, they lifted. Dirk could feel the skin on his palms scraped raw as his hands slipped on the rough surface of the scorched beam. His injured arm sent jolts of pain through him. His chest burned. But he struggled to move the timber until he trembled with the effort….

Slowly the beam shifted. Bricks and masonry rubble began to trickle down around it. And suddenly it was free. With their last burst of strength, they heaved it away from the building.

The woman was already at the window. She reached down and pulled the screaming child through the small opening. She ran from the flame-engulfed house….

Gisela was with the woman and her daughter. The child was not seriously injured. But she was frantic with terror. Her mother held her in her arms, rocking her gently.

The man came up to Dirk. He grabbed his hand. He pumped it up and down. “May God thank you!” he said, emotion making his voice hoarse. “I do!” He threw a haunted look toward the house. “We were taking shelter in the cellar when the bomb hit.” His words came tumbling out. He felt the need to talk away the terror. “The stairs were blocked. The window was the only way out.” He shivered. “Lisl was the first one through — and then — then she ran back to get her doll before we could stop her. It is a fine doll. In the uniform of the BDM. Like her sister. And then — the beam and everything fell down, trapping her inside. And we — we—” His eyes went from Dirk to Sig. “Thank God you came along!”

Sig looked toward the blazing building. Flames were shooting from the basement window. It had been close. He shuddered, and looked away. He glanced up the road toward the railroad crossing. And froze.

Bearing down on the tracks from the hill on the far side was a car. A German staff car. Roaring, wide open, for the railroad right-of-way!

He grabbed Dirk by the arm. Urgently he pointed.

The staff car reached the tracks. It skidded to a stop, slewing sideways down the road in a cloud of dust. Then it started up again and began threading its way through the craters.

They had seen the car before. Racing into the Haigerloch Sperrzone!

Dirk grabbed Gisela. “Get in the ambulance,” he shouted. “Quickly!”

The big man stood in Dirk's way.

“You must take Lisl to the hospital,” he demanded.

“We can't. She'll be all right.” Dirk turned to follow Sig and Gisela, who were running for the ambulance.

“The big man stepped in his way. He seized his arm. “You must!” he growled. “She is hurt. The ambulance—”

Dirk tried to break loose. The man's grip tightened desperately on his arm. “Take her,” he screamed. “Or—”

Without warning Dirk shot a knee into his groin. With a choked gasp, the man doubled over. At once Dirk struck him a stiff-handed blow across the neck. He crashed to the ground.

Suddenly — over the roar of the flames — Dirk heard the sharp, staccato barks of submachine-gun fire. Instantly small geysers of dirt spewed from the ground close by. At once he pushed the woman down to the ground.

“Stay down,” he yelled at her.

He shot a glance toward the staff car at the crossing. Two soldiers had jumped out and were firing at him. The car was slowly worming its way through the crater-pitted area.

Dodging and weaving, he sprinted for the ambulance. The woman lying dazed on the ground next to her unconscious husband, clutching her child to her, stared after him in shock.

He was at the vehicle. Sig and Gisela were already in the cab. He leaped in. At once he started up. The ambulance jerked forward even as a burst from the submachine guns shattered the windows in the rear door. He gathered speed. He tore down the road — wide open. He glanced in his rearview mirror.