I heard the rumble first, up through my bones. The china in the cabinet rattled together. A pictureframe fell from the wall. I couldn't look out the window. Claudia came into the room half-dressed.
“What's happening?” she asked. “What's the noise?”
I didn't know for certain, but I hoped it wasn't what I suspected. I didn't have the heart to tell her then.
“Nothing,” I said. “Go and get ready; we'll be late. We have to meet Antoine.”
She returned to the bedroom to dress. I pulled back the curtains and looked into the street. I was right. Hundreds of them, marching through the 8th arrondissement, tanks rolling on the cobbles. Their rifles were shouldered: they didn't need them. They didn't expect any resistance. This wasn't a military takeover: our government had given them our country. France was theirs, fair and square: part of the Reich now.
Their boots struck the street in unison, their tanks crawled lethargically through our home. Nobody was outside but them: nobody stood watching from their doors, but faces could be seen through curtains in every window.
Claudia screamed, and came running to me. “Michel, what's happening? It's them! They're here! They're outside our apartment!”
I took her in my arms to comfort her. She was trembling.
“Put on your shoes,” I told her. “We must leave now.”
“Leave? How can we leave? They'll be all over the arrondissement by now.”
“We have to get to Les Invalides.”
“Why there? Michel! That's where they'll go.”
“That's where we're going. Put on your shoes.”
We made sure there were no more of them on the streets and we left the apartment building as night fell. Claudia whispered frantically in my ear, “Where are we going?”
“I told you: to Les Invalides.”
“No, I mean why.”
“Because there are people there. People we can trust.”
“What do you mean by people?”
“There was a plan in case anything like this ever happened.”
“You mean you knew about this?”
“I suspected. Claudia, this hasn't come out of nowhere. This has been building for a while now.”
“I know that. Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Michel. I know what's happening around me.”
“I'm sorry. You seemed so surprised that I knew this was coming.”
“I'm surprised that it did come, and that you're so calm about it.”
“I'm not calm, Claudia. I'm frightened. I don't know what's going to happen.”
“I know what we can try, and I want to be a part of it.”
“No, I don't want you in this. It's too dangerous.”
“Michel, I want to do it.”
“Claudia, I--”
“No, no excuses. This is my France as much as it is yours; my life as much as it is yours. I want to do something about this. I want to fight.”
“But you're...”
“I'm a woman? I'm only a woman? I can't fight because I'm only a woman? I can't defend my country because I'm only a woman? I can't believe in something because I'm only a woman?”
“No, Claudia. You can't fight because you're too precious to me.”
“Don't feed me that horse shit, Michel. I'll be there, and the only way you can stop me is to hand me to the Nazis yourself.”
“Fine. But something dark—something big—is coming, Claudia. Are you ready?”
“I'm ready to defend my freedom, yes.”
“I'm ready to defend your freedom, too,” I said, and we continued in the direction of Les Invalides in silence.
When we got to the river, we had a clear view of the Eiffel Tower.
“Look!” Claudia whispered, and pointed to the top of the tower. Lit up in the night, fluttering in the summer breeze as though it hadn't a care in the world, was a flag with that sickening swastika leering at us, like a spider scuttling across the Seine towards us, ready to catch us and poison us and eat us whole. I grabbed Claudia's hand tighter and dragged her down an alley to the edge of the river by the Pont des Invalides. There is a sewer there, and as we were entering it, a German officer approached us.
“Was macht ihr? Wer seid ihr?”
We ignored him.
“Wo geht ihr? Halt, jetzt!”
“Je m'excuse: je ne parle pas allemand.”
“Was? Wo geht ihr?”
“Excuse moi, monsieur. Je dois partir maintenant.”
We ran across the bridge, the Nazi running after us. We knew the city, and he didn't: we lost him quickly. We were in the 7th arrondissement now, on the Quai d'Orsay. I found another sewer entrance and we descended into the bowels of Paris.
“I feel like Jean Valjean,” I said to Claudia, “running from Javert.”
“Don't romanticise this,” she replied. “This is too important to get caught up with fantasy.”
“You're right.”
“And I don't want any talk of barricades or Friends of the ABC either.”
I laughed. “Alright. How many of them do you think there are, anyway? About 24,601, maybe?”
“Seriously, Michel. I am in this until the bitter end,” she said.
“I think we all are.”
We reached a large cavern in the sewer system, and my heart leaped. There were at least a hundred people there, waiting for me. Antoine came to me immediately.
“It's finally happening,” he said. “I don't know if we're ready.”
“We're ready,” I said. I stood on the highest ground I could find, and shouted to the crowd. My voice carried down the tunnels: I felt like every free man in Paris could hear me. I looked at Claudia, standing in front of the assembled crowd. “Je t'aime,” I mouthed to her. She nodded. I took a breath, and addressed the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, “we must prepare to fight. What has happened here today will not prevail. We will stand against them, and we will conquer them. What they stand for is oppression and hatred, and what we stand for—what we defend—is liberty, equality and brotherhood! You are my brothers in arms, and together we will drive them out of Paris, we will drive them out of France, we will wipe them from the face of the earth and they will be forgotten, my brothers, forgotten in time, and we will be remembered as the men—as the people—who regained what was rightfully ours, the people who retook France for the French and the people who tore the world from the jaws of the Nazi serpent. We are our only hope; we are our only backup; we are the only ones who can help us now. It is all on our shoulders, brothers. The world looks to us, and we shall not let them down!”
The crowd cheered. Hundreds of Nazis poured into the sewers. That guard must have followed us after all. I swallowed, pulled two pistols from my jacket pockets and handed one to Claudia. We fired at every Nazi we could see; they didn't expect any resistance.
“What's happening?” she asked. “What's the noise?”
I didn't know for certain, but I hoped it wasn't what I suspected. I didn't have the heart to tell her then.
“Nothing,” I said. “Go and get ready; we'll be late. We have to meet Antoine.”
She returned to the bedroom to dress. I pulled back the curtains and looked into the street. I was right. Hundreds of them, marching through the 8th arrondissement, tanks rolling on the cobbles. Their rifles were shouldered: they didn't need them. They didn't expect any resistance. This wasn't a military takeover: our government had given them our country. France was theirs, fair and square: part of the Reich now.
Their boots struck the street in unison, their tanks crawled lethargically through our home. Nobody was outside but them: nobody stood watching from their doors, but faces could be seen through curtains in every window.
Claudia screamed, and came running to me. “Michel, what's happening? It's them! They're here! They're outside our apartment!”
I took her in my arms to comfort her. She was trembling.
“Put on your shoes,” I told her. “We must leave now.”
“Leave? How can we leave? They'll be all over the arrondissement by now.”
“We have to get to Les Invalides.”
“Why there? Michel! That's where they'll go.”
“That's where we're going. Put on your shoes.”
We made sure there were no more of them on the streets and we left the apartment building as night fell. Claudia whispered frantically in my ear, “Where are we going?”
“I told you: to Les Invalides.”
“No, I mean why.”
“Because there are people there. People we can trust.”
“What do you mean by people?”
“There was a plan in case anything like this ever happened.”
“You mean you knew about this?”
“I suspected. Claudia, this hasn't come out of nowhere. This has been building for a while now.”
“I know that. Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Michel. I know what's happening around me.”
“I'm sorry. You seemed so surprised that I knew this was coming.”
“I'm surprised that it did come, and that you're so calm about it.”
“I'm not calm, Claudia. I'm frightened. I don't know what's going to happen.”
“I know what we can try, and I want to be a part of it.”
“No, I don't want you in this. It's too dangerous.”
“Michel, I want to do it.”
“Claudia, I--”
“No, no excuses. This is my France as much as it is yours; my life as much as it is yours. I want to do something about this. I want to fight.”
“But you're...”
“I'm a woman? I'm only a woman? I can't fight because I'm only a woman? I can't defend my country because I'm only a woman? I can't believe in something because I'm only a woman?”
“No, Claudia. You can't fight because you're too precious to me.”
“Don't feed me that horse shit, Michel. I'll be there, and the only way you can stop me is to hand me to the Nazis yourself.”
“Fine. But something dark—something big—is coming, Claudia. Are you ready?”
“I'm ready to defend my freedom, yes.”
“I'm ready to defend your freedom, too,” I said, and we continued in the direction of Les Invalides in silence.
When we got to the river, we had a clear view of the Eiffel Tower.
“Look!” Claudia whispered, and pointed to the top of the tower. Lit up in the night, fluttering in the summer breeze as though it hadn't a care in the world, was a flag with that sickening swastika leering at us, like a spider scuttling across the Seine towards us, ready to catch us and poison us and eat us whole. I grabbed Claudia's hand tighter and dragged her down an alley to the edge of the river by the Pont des Invalides. There is a sewer there, and as we were entering it, a German officer approached us.
“Was macht ihr? Wer seid ihr?”
We ignored him.
“Wo geht ihr? Halt, jetzt!”
“Je m'excuse: je ne parle pas allemand.”
“Was? Wo geht ihr?”
“Excuse moi, monsieur. Je dois partir maintenant.”
We ran across the bridge, the Nazi running after us. We knew the city, and he didn't: we lost him quickly. We were in the 7th arrondissement now, on the Quai d'Orsay. I found another sewer entrance and we descended into the bowels of Paris.
“I feel like Jean Valjean,” I said to Claudia, “running from Javert.”
“Don't romanticise this,” she replied. “This is too important to get caught up with fantasy.”
“You're right.”
“And I don't want any talk of barricades or Friends of the ABC either.”
I laughed. “Alright. How many of them do you think there are, anyway? About 24,601, maybe?”
“Seriously, Michel. I am in this until the bitter end,” she said.
“I think we all are.”
We reached a large cavern in the sewer system, and my heart leaped. There were at least a hundred people there, waiting for me. Antoine came to me immediately.
“It's finally happening,” he said. “I don't know if we're ready.”
“We're ready,” I said. I stood on the highest ground I could find, and shouted to the crowd. My voice carried down the tunnels: I felt like every free man in Paris could hear me. I looked at Claudia, standing in front of the assembled crowd. “Je t'aime,” I mouthed to her. She nodded. I took a breath, and addressed the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, “we must prepare to fight. What has happened here today will not prevail. We will stand against them, and we will conquer them. What they stand for is oppression and hatred, and what we stand for—what we defend—is liberty, equality and brotherhood! You are my brothers in arms, and together we will drive them out of Paris, we will drive them out of France, we will wipe them from the face of the earth and they will be forgotten, my brothers, forgotten in time, and we will be remembered as the men—as the people—who regained what was rightfully ours, the people who retook France for the French and the people who tore the world from the jaws of the Nazi serpent. We are our only hope; we are our only backup; we are the only ones who can help us now. It is all on our shoulders, brothers. The world looks to us, and we shall not let them down!”
The crowd cheered. Hundreds of Nazis poured into the sewers. That guard must have followed us after all. I swallowed, pulled two pistols from my jacket pockets and handed one to Claudia. We fired at every Nazi we could see; they didn't expect any resistance.
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