“My mother says that she will not be held prisoner in her own home by a group of—” The daughter bit back the final word.
“Yes?” Lieutenant Rupert asked, a slight smile playing over his lips.
“Ruffians!” the girl finally exclaimed, reddening.
Cole reckoned that they had been called worse.
“Please assure your mother that we mean you no harm,” Rupert said to her. “We are simply trying to do our duty and protect your country.”
Again, the daughter translated, but it was plain to see that she was not satisfied.
“Mother says that she does not care about your duty!” the girl said. “She says that you have no right to treat us like this.”
“Miss, please inform your mother that we shall leave as soon as we can tomorrow morning. In fact, you might remind her that you’re better off having us here rather than the Germans.”
Once her daughter had translated these last words, all the fight drained out of the woman. Her indignation faded as the truth of Rupert’s statement sank in. She seemed to take in the tired and weary soldiers as if seeing them for the first time.
More words followed, but the matriarch’s tone had changed. She took command of the drawing room. Through her daughter, she began issuing orders like a general — there was no other way to describe it. She made it clear that this was
She pointed at the pile of wood, and then at the fire, indicating that it needed more logs piled upon it. Rupert was quick to do her bidding, and fresh logs sent crackling sparks up the chimney, and the warming flames rose higher. She oversaw the shifting of furniture to accommodate everyone in a rough half circle around the warm fire. Although French rushed from her lips, most of the commanding was accomplished by waving her hands at everyone in a manner that needed no translation.
Bauer seemed amused by the communication gap between the two Americans and their put-upon hostess.
“I have always found it curious that most of you Americans speak only English,” Bauer noted. “I don’t know if that is arrogance or your famous Yankee practicality.”
“Don’t go callin’ me a Yankee,” Cole warned. “That’s a downright insult where I’m from. Anyhow, there ain’t much need to speak French or German back home in Gashey’s Creek.”
Bauer cocked his head. “From what I hear, you barely speak English.”
Cole bristled at that remark. “Keep it up, Herr Barnstormer. The only one you’ll be talkin’ to shortly is Saint Peter at the pearly gates.”
Bauer shook his head, the familiar amused smile flashing. “I mean only that at times you are barely understandable to my ears because you have such a strong accent. Is that why your friend here calls you a hillbilly?”
“I’m a hillbilly and proud of it.”
Cole felt himself getting angry again at Bauer, but the heat faded when he saw that the German was giving him that wry grin of his — not a superior smile, but an impish one. Cole relaxed, realizing that the German was needling him. Busting his chops — and he had walked right into it like a blind mule into the side of a barn.
Cole shook his head. Reluctantly, he had to admit that Bauer had a sense of humor that matched his own. German or not, Bauer seemed to appreciate sarcasm and shared the same dark sense of humor as your typical GI. Maybe that style of humor was universal to soldiers everywhere, regardless of which side they were on.
The lady of the manor couldn’t seem to sit still, rushing around to light more candles. The daughter disappeared into the kitchen and returned with some cheese, a loaf of bread that had somehow escaped their search, a small knife, and a carving board. She also had a dampened cloth that she used to clean the dark smudges from her face.
It was later explained that the dirty marks came from the mother rubbing the daughter’s face with the burned end of a wine cork. It was a strategy to make her less attractive to the male soldiers who had invaded their home.
This tactic had been around as long as there had been pretty daughters and invading armies. The girl didn’t have a mirror, so the mother took the cloth and dabbed at a few spots that her daughter had missed.
Although she had been pretty enough to start with, the girl’s freshly scrubbed face now looked radiant in the firelight and candlelight, bringing a flush to her cheeks. One person who noticed the transformation was definitely Lieutenant Rupert, who stared as if transfixed. The girl saw him staring and blushed.
