On the Beach

(Source)

The moon was beginning to set, Jean-Yves looked out over la Manche¹ and nearly sobbed. He felt a great feeling of sorrow sweep over him at the prospect of leaving his beloved country. The night was beautiful, the way the moonlight sparkled upon the water, made him think of happier times. The only thing which marred the scene was the small German armored car patrolling the waterfront.

Veulettes-sur-Mer sat between two jutting chalk cliffs, roughly a kilometer and a half apart. It wasn't a working fishing village, but there were a few boats drawn up along the beach. He wondered if any of the boats were large enough to take them the hundred kilometers across the unfriendly waters of la Manche to England.

Mariusz Perzan saw something he liked out on that beach, "I could get us to America in such a boat. It has sails and looks fairly new. It's a good size boat, it will carry the six of us easily."

Sergent Podbielski sighed and said, "We just need to get past the Niemcy."

Gefreiter Georg Wolfschmitt ordered his driver to stop. The scenery here was absolutely beautiful, though the wind coming off the water was rather chilly. He couldn't imagine what exactly he was on the lookout for, Rommel had left this detachment here when the rest of the division moved up the coast to surround the Tommies at Saint Valery en Caux. As much as he wanted to be in at the kill, being posted here was not bad.

"All right Klaus, let's head over to the western headland and sit for a bit. Nothing is going on out here that I can see. The French are all in bed, as is our Feldwebel, I've never seen a man drink so much wine."

The SdKfz 222 moved off, its engine sound swallowed up by the waves rolling up the rough shingle of the beach.

The five Poles and their French companion moved quietly into the village. They saw a German sentry at a distance. Probably guarding the town hall, Podbielski figured. From the position of the moon, he figured they still had a couple of hours of darkness to secure the boat Perzan had his heart set on.

"Down!" he hissed as he heard the sound of a motor approaching along the promenade. The men all spread out and flattened themselves behind whatever cover they could find. Then they waited, the sound was clearly that of a motorcycle.

Podbielski watched, ah, it wasn't on the promenade but on the road beside it. From what little he could see in the fitful shadows, it was a messenger. The man continued on until he reached roughly where they had seen the sentry moments ago. They couldn't see that building but the sound of the motorcycle's engine stopped at where Podbielski figured that building was. No doubt the Niemcy were using it as a headquarters.

"Let's go, fast as you can, quiet as you can." Podbielski hissed at the men.

They were up and moving on cue, they were over the seawall in no time at all. Flattening themselves against that low structure they waited for any hue and cry. There was none.

"Mariusz, check out the boat, we'll cover you."

Wolfschmitt sat in his small turret and watched the water as it rolled in then back out again. It fascinated him. He was from a small village deep in the Hürtgenwald and had never seen the sea until joining the army. He had caught a glimpse of it when he served in Poland. Now he got to see it every day. It pleased him a great deal.

Finally though, he knew they had lingered long enough. "Klaus, fire the beast up, let's head back up along the promenade."

Wolfschmitt heard the engine crank, then die. His driver Klaus Beck, tried again, then Wolfschmitt heard him swear, "Damn it, I flooded the engine."

The gunner, Reiter² Norbert Schmied, laughed and said, "What an idiot!"

"Let it sit, Klaus, we're not in any real hurry."

"Push, get your backs into it." Mariusz Perzan hissed at the men as they struggled to get the boat into the water, the waves wanted to push it back onto the shingle. But each time they gained more ground.

After struggling for a few long minutes, with Podbielski continually scanning the shore to see if anyone was coming, the boat began to rise and fall on the waves.

"In, everybody in, use those oars we found to push her out deeper." Perzan urged them as he stayed by the stern, still pushing the boat further out. When his feet could no longer touch the bottom he scrambled aboard.

"Gówno!³ That scout car is returning!" Podbielski could see it clearly now, he had spotted movement and had been surprised to see the vehicle coming down the promenade. He never had heard the motor, too much sound from the waves on the shingle he supposed.

Wolfschmitt had been looking out at the sea, he thought he had seen something out there, maybe a whale! But then he had seen the motorcycle approaching, with its head lamp partially masked out for blackout purposes, it had been close before he had seen it.

"Klaus, stop the car!" But before the 222 rolled to a stop, the motorcyclist drove on past them. "Never mind, back to business. Let's get up to the next headland, we can watch the moon set!"

Out to sea, to Wolfschmitt's left rear, if one was looking, one might have noticed a mast being put into place, followed by a sail being hoisted aloft. But no Germans in the little seaside village noticed as the five Poles and the single Frenchman escaped the Continent of Europe. Bound for England and an eventual return to free their homelands.

Little did they know just how long that would take.

¹ This is what the French call the Channel, it is the word for "sleeve." That's what it looks like to them. Interestingly enough, the Germans also call it something similar, the Ärmelkanal, the "sleeve channel."

² In cavalry and reconnaissance units this rank was equivalent to a private, literally means "rider."

³ Shit! (Polish)