Adèle LeBeau

Paris, France

September 1940

In the confusion of the invasion, Adèle LeBeau had lost track of her son, Louis. She knew he had been stationed somewhere near the border, working as a cook for a general in the Armée de l'Air. She had seven other children to keep track of during that hectic time and she thought, given his position, that her eldest was probably in the least amount of danger. Surely he would have been evacuated with the rest of the general's staff when the invasion began. It was possible that they had even fled to England to carry on the fight there.

So it came as quite a shock when she received a letter from him a few months later. That, in and of itself, wasn't unusual, but her heart sank when she saw the Croix-Rouge stamp on it. Her hands shook, not only with age but anxiety as she cut the letter open and pulled out its contents. One small slip of paper, but every available space was written on. Adèle squinted and then reached for her glasses.

Her building fears were confirmed as she read the letter. Despite an order from the general to retreat with him, Louis had refused on the grounds that he was no coward. He had stayed behind, helping the ground crew fuel and fix the planes as they took to the skies to defend their homeland. Of course, it had all been in vain. The Boche rolled through the ground defences and cut down the fighter planes and bombers almost as soon as they were in the air. But Louis, her brave, impetuous Louis, had stayed to the bitter end. When the Germans rolled through the airfield he had jumped into a grounded plane to try to shoot as many as he could with its machine gun. It was a miracle he had not been killed. Instead, he had been taken prisoner.

Adèle frowned. It was a terrible thing to say as his mother, but perhaps that had been worse.

She remembered his pride and determination when he had enlisted to serve his country. And then the shame and indignation when he had been relegated to serving as a general's personal chef. Of course, he was a brilliant cook and he loved food. But, he lamented, he was more than that. And he had not joined the army to serve the ego and appetite of a haughty general, but to fight and defend his country from the air or from the ground—but not from a stove!

And now? Now he couldn't even do that. He was a prisoner, far behind enemy lines. And it had to be a humiliating blow for her proud son. Louis had a habit of questioning his own worth and now that he was helpless, she wondered if it would destroy him.

Reading between the lines, however, Adèle suspected he would not take the indignity of imprisonment lying down. There was still plenty of fight in him and he was determined to do what he could to resist and make his captivity as difficult for the Boche as it would be for him.

That meant trying to escape. A dangerous proposition. But war was not for the faint of heart. And Louis had never been afraid of a challenge. What he lacked in height, he more than made up for in courage.

Her heart was conflicted. On the one hand, she knew that maintaining a fighting spirit would help him survive in the camp. On the other, she wished he would not take such chances. It was more important to survive than to be a hero. But with a shake of her head, she chastised herself for that thought. It wasn't about being a hero and aggrandizing himself—it was about doing what was right. It was about never giving up, no matter the odds. It was about keeping the flame of freedom alive, if only in his own heart. Adèle didn't have to like it and all the dangers surrounding his attitude, but she did have to respect him. Her son was a man of conviction and she only had herself to blame for that.

Adèle realized she would have to be brave as well. She had been content to sit out the war. She hated the Boche, of course, but she was old. Much too old, she thought, to make a difference. But if her son could keep the fight going in his heart, even as a prisoner, then surely she could find something to do.

Until she found that avenue of resistance, however, there was at least one thing she knew must be done.

Tucking the letter into her pocket, Adèle hurried out of her apartment as quickly as her old bones would take her. She scowled at the German soldiers that crossed in front of her when she stepped onto the street. But there was nothing she could do about them now. Instead, she turned and headed towards the church.

Inside, she went to the altar and lit a candle and then knelt in prayer. She poured her heart out and begged God to keep her son safe. She asked that He grant Louis enough humility to keep his courage from becoming foolishness, and she asked that, if possible, He send a friend to help share the load. If the last two requests were met, the first would be assured.

Adèle prayed for a long time. And then, when she felt her petition had reached the heavens, she stood and made her way home. Once she arrived, she would write to Louis and tell him that she, too, would not give up. From a small corporal in a prisoner camp to an old lady in Paris, France needed all her soldiers. The war was young and they had not yet begun to fight.