Marie was tired from walking. The bag she'd been given to carry was heavy and the strap was beginning to cut into her shoulders. Her shoes were not made for walking and she could feel water beginning to seep in. She forced herself to keep walking, totally silent. The men around her talked, but her English wasn't good enough to understand much of what they were saying.
Eventually they came to a stop, and they set down their belongings. Marie lifted the bag from her shoulders and sat down on a stump, feeling a cramp coming on in her legs. Aldo and Donny were talking together. Every so often one of them would look up at her. It made her uncomfortable, and she looked away.
Marie sat in silence for about half an hour while they continued to talk amongst themselves. Eventually a man sat down beside her.
"Bonjour," he began, "Juh m'appeylle Omar."
"D'accord. Je m'appelle Marie."
He handed her a knife. Marie's eyes widened in surprise. Then she saw he was holding a bag of potatoes.
"We have to peel the potatoes."
He smiled, lifted a potato from the sack, tossed it in the air, caught it and began peeling. Marie lifted one slowly and began to cut. Accidentally the knife slipped and cut a wide gash in her finger. Marie gasped and dropped the potato to the ground.
"You alright?" he asked, somewhat startled.
Marie nodded feebly and wrapped her hand in her skirt.
As they ate their dinner – a sort of stew – Marie could hear them discussing something, but her limited ability in English once more restricted her understanding. She picked out the odd word; Nazi, kill, various expletives. She began to feel afraid. She was conflicted; the prospect of another encounter with German soldiers simultaneously filled her with fear and excitement. It was a strange feeling, one that she had never experienced again.
The following day the camp moved on further through the forest. Suddenly they all became quiet; Marie began to worry. Omar turned to her and mouthed, "Stay here. There's a group of Nazis ahead."
Marie stayed behind for about twenty minutes; after about twenty minutes the gunshots stopped and all she heard was a stream of intense discussion. Gingerly she got to her knees so she wouldn't be seen and crawled ahead. She sat behind a tree and watched them: there were several bodies lying scattered around them. Marie began to feel sick. Leaning back against the tree she fished in her bag for her rosary beads and began to pray. She regretted her decision to leave home now. No, this was too much; she was in too deep. She needed to go back home to Clotilde...
Landa stood over the body of Private Wader. His mouth was closed tightly. Little Marie's beau?Beaten? And scalped? She and the basterds? Landa turned away from the body. Perhaps she's not that innocent after all…
Clotilde was jolted awake by a loud bang on the door. She jumped to her feet and ran immediately to window to see who was there. Her stomach sank; men in black trenchcoats, soldiers. She immediately ran to the kitchen just as the front door was broken down.
"Clotilde Rousseau!" An unfamiliar voice called out loudly. Clotilde reached for the keys as she heard footsteps disseminating through the house. Frantically she searched for the back door key. Fumbling desperately she managed to insert the key into the keyhole when a gloved hand seized her shoulder.
"Clotilde Rousseau, this is the Gestapo. You're under arrest."