Soligen, Germany
Day 7

As the clock inched toward midnight, the old farm house had settled in quiet slumber. The boys were all fast asleep. Fritz and Emery were sound asleep too, after they had had a little meeting between themselves discussing some last minute details of the impending trip north and checking over a map with their route and alternatives. Wilhelmina was the last to turn in for the night, stopping by each room to check on her guests, seeing that each, still dressed in their civilian clothes, were fast asleep.

Each except for Major Miller. Wilhelmina couldn't tell that he was still awake though as he was lying on the bed, still in his civilian clothes, facing away from the doorway. But he saw the glow of the oil lamp reflected on the wall above him and then it faded as Wilhelmina made her way to the next room.

He was trying to sleep, Lord knew. But sleep just wasn't interested in paying him a visit. The concern for the safety of the kids and the uncertainty of what awaited them come morning was slowing creeping its way back into the forefront of his thoughts. He stared at the darkness in front of him and found nothing to ease the worry. Time ticked by. Restless, he sat up and found the heavy overcoat at the end of the bed. From the pocket he retrieved his Zippo lighter and flipped it open. He then retrieved his glasses off the night stand and with sight returned, read the time on the clock. It was five minutes to two.

It was useless by this point. They would be leaving in less than three hours and if he managed to fall asleep between now and then, it would probably be ten minutes before they would all have to get up and he'd only end up lethargic at best once they got on the road. What he was going to do to occupy his time for the next three hours, he didn't know, but he knew he couldn't lay there staring at the darkness.

So he got up and with the light from the Zippo, found his way to the door. The farm house was quiet and the floor creaked lightly as he stepped out into the hall. He moved quietly toward the stairs and descended them slowly, stopping every few steps at each creak in the wood. He'd have never made it as cat burglar.

Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, he paused and let the flame from the Zippo go out for a moment. The metal cigarette lighter was starting to become hot. After a moment, he realized that moonlight was shining through the windows. With all the lights in the house turned out, the blackout coverings had been pulled opened. With the moonlight, Miller recognized he was just a few short steps from the large living room with its two bookshelves lined with books and the phonograph player set up in the corner. He had noticed earlier the stack of 78's and even some older shellac cylinders that were on the shelf of the cabinet just below the phonograph player. Curiosity had tugged at him, not so much about the 78's, but the cylinders. Hardly anybody had the means to play those things anymore.

He walked into the living room and saw an oil lamp on the table next to the settee. He lifted the glass of the lamp and with the flame from the Zippo, lit the glow for the lamp. The Zippo was then extinguished and pocketed and the light from the lamp lent an old fashioned warmth to the room. Conscious of the heavy drapes on the windows, and their purpose, Miller went to each of the four windows of the living room and pulled the drapes closed.

He paused a moment when he finished and looked toward the stairs. He was trying to stay quiet and hoped he hadn't disturbed anyone. From this point on, he would be as quiet as a mouse, occupying himself with the books on the bookshelves. He wasn't expecting to find any English language books, but he would make do with whatever he found. Anything to pass the time.

To his luck, and consolation, he did find an English language book. The Bible. Actually, there were two bibles, the other in German. Miller took the English bible and settled on the settee with it. No matter how many times he read passages, no matter that he had several practically memorized, no matter that book itself didn't change...he always found something new in it. And solace. There was a passage, a story, a quote, something that always seemed appropriate for whatever the situation was, that spoke to the hope and the fear and offered something for strength and peace.

It was a little while later when Miller heard the creak of the stairs. He looked up and saw Wilhelmina was standing on one of the last few of the steps, an oil lamp in her hand. She was looking at him, surprised to see him sitting there.

"Herr Miller?" she said quietly, stepping off the last step of the stairs. She walked into the living room. "What are you doing up? You should be getting some sleep."

"I know, but I couldn't." He closed the bible, keeping a finger at the page he had been on for a place holder. "Too much on my mind, I guess."

Wilhelmina nodded and eyed the book in Miller's hand. "A good book for when there is much on your mind."

Miller smiled, looking at the bible in hand. "Yes, it is."

Wilhelmina placed her oil lamp down on the coffee table and sat down in one of the chairs, opposite of the settee. "You worry for the young boys," she said. "It will be a long journey to the coast. It will take you all day to get there."

Miller nodded. "That's what Fritz and Emery told me. A lot could happen on the way."

"Ja, but Fritz and Emery, they have done this many times. They know this part of Germany and the route to the coast better than anyone. You have the two best men in the Underground taking you there."

Miller nodded. "I believe that."

Wilhelmina looked at the American for a moment. Suddenly, she was curious. "Do you have children, Herr Miller?"

Miller was quiet a moment as he looked at a far corner of the coffee table. "I have two," he said softly.

She was right. She had a hunch about something else too. "You miss them," she stated.

He didn't answer immediately because he was there. Back home. There was a little boy he hadn't even seen yet. There was the little girl he hadn't seen in almost five months. For a very brief moment he was there.

And then it was gone and he was back to the reality of being in a farm house in Germany at two-thirty in the morning. He looked at Wilhelmina and one word spoke of how much he missed his family. "Terribly."

Wilhelmina nodded with understanding. "Of course. But you will be back with them before too long. Just as my sons, those that remain will return home." She stood up now, picking up her oil lamp. "You should get some rest," she said.

"I know...I'll try."

She nodded and paused, looking at the Bible Miller held in hand. "Things will be very busy when you leave in a few hours. Remember the Lord's gift of peace as told by John. 'Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid...'"

Miller nodded to her in appreciation. Then, as she turned to walk back to the stairs, he opened the bible to the page he had been holding, reading the words of the very passage Wilhelmina had just spoken.

Grevenbroich, Germany
November, 1944
Day 8

When the dawn started to break over the horizon, the skeletal remains of a burned out Gestapo truck were found just a few miles outside of Grevenbroich, a town fifteen miles southwest of Düsseldorf. The truck, left at the side of a road that saw little traffic and had nary a house nearby, had apparently burned unnoticed during the night. By the time it was discovered by the Gestapo, it was nothing more than a smoldering hunk of metal, whatever smoke was still lifting from it blended in with the surrounding morning fog.

Major Hochstetter stood in the road, watching as his men combed through the remains of the truck. The search dogs sniffed around the area, but were losing focus and he could hear the frustrated commands from the handlers. It had been a long night and a fresh team of dogs, and soldiers, would have to be called in.

Hochstetter himself was tired too but he wouldn't admit it. The discovery of the truck bolstered him, when most would have figured the trail to be cold at this point. He knew there were only two directions Major Miller could be headed. South, to Switzerland or possibly France, or north to the sea. Hochstetter also knew that the location of this truck and its destroyed state was an attempt to throw him off the trail. But he knew better, and with the resources of the Gestapo at his disposal he would search south towards Switzerland, France and north to the sea. There was no other direction the American could have gone.

Considering his new plan of action, Hochstetter was about to call off the search dogs and order everyone back to Düsseldorf, when one of the soldiers searching the truck, came over to him.

"Herr Major..." He held in his hand what looked to be brass buttons, four of them. Hochstetter picked one up and studied it. It was not like any buttons used on German uniforms.

"Hmmm...." Hochstetter pondered.

"We found what looks like the remains of an HJ uniform as well. But there does not seem to be any human remains in the truck..."

"Nein, and there would not be," Hochstetter said. "The American has abandoned his uniform, possibly for civilian attire." He put the button back in the soldier's hand. "Tell Hauptmann Slieger to call off the search dogs and have everyone meet back in Düsseldorf. I have an idea of which direction the American may be heading and we will assemble new search teams for the task."

"Jawohl, Major." The soldier saluted and turned sharply to pass on the orders.