ShadowShot : L'enfant Guerrier Read online

  “Yes I know about that, at least about the family and how they wanted their revenge. There was a doctor at the clinic. He actually told me this already. Will you be coming to England with us?”

  “No Johno I have work to do here. You have done more than enough, and so have your mother and grandmother. It is time that you are united and get to England. “I am sure afterward you will go to the States. At least I hope so. I will always love you. You know that. You will be missed but it has to be this way.”

  Johno knew Peppy was right. There was too much attention on him. It would put the others in even more danger. Johno said no more.

  Peppy had made plans for the escape as much as was possible. We traveled mostly by night, switching vehicles when available, abandoning them and going overland through the mountains. His mother and grandmother had already left Paris before us, and were on their way to Portugal through Spain. If everything went well we would all meet and they would take a boat from Portugal to England.

  At one of our rest stops, we got word that there was a lot of commotion among the Germans over the escape of Johno. The doctor from the clinic and the Major’s family had taken it on themselves to pursue us. In addition, the Gestapo and SS were looking for him. We had to move even more cautiously and faster as well. When we left France and entered Spain there was a sense of relief. There was plenty of danger to be had in Spain but Peppy did not think that the regular German military would pursue us, at least not openly. When we crossed into Portugal we all felt better.

  We had no contact with Johno’s mother and grandmother or their escorts during our journey south. We only hoped they would reach the designated departure location on time or better yet before us. Two days later we had good news and bad when we stopped for the night at a scheduled rest stop. We were now only one day away. Mother and grandmother had passed this way the day before and were waiting near the site. It was a little village on the water where they would use a small skiff to get out to a larger boat moored just off the coast. Next, they would travel to England.

  The bad news was that the Gestapo with elements of the major’s family was hot on our trail. Peppy was furious. Someone must have talked. Betrayal was everywhere, so few people to trust. There was no way that they could have tracked us. They might have been closing in on us but we were sure they did not know our final destination. The next day we reached the village. Johno’s mother and grandmother had arrived the night before and were staying hidden. Peppy did not want to make contact with them other than letting them know that we had arrived. We waited until dark and moved to meet them on the skiff.

  Just before we left Peppy said there might not be time for goodbyes at the boat. “Johno, I want you to know that you are like a son to me. You are the son that I never had. Marie Claude and I both loved you and I will always remember and love you.” Johno started to tear up little. He wanted to say something. Peppy just nodded put his finger to his lips, smiled and embraced him. “Vaya con Dios mi Niño Guerrero.”

  Besides Peppy, there was Peter, two others and myself. When we arrived at the departure point, there was long cement and stone jetty that went out to where the small boat was waiting. Peppy said he would take Johno to the boat. He wanted us to stay with the others and keep guard.

  We had only gone a few feet when Peter whispered loudly, “Peppy behind us!” Four men had come out from behind a building. They had a couple of bottles that they were passing between them and they were staggering toward us.

  Peppy took one look and said, “It’s them! Kill them Peter!”

  Before Peter could react, the men opened up with machine guns that they had concealed behind their backs. Simultaneously there was additional fire coming from another building to the right. Peppy pushed Johno down behind a cement bench. Peter was hit and was down on his knees but continued to fire back. The Germans had taken cover but were pretty much bunched together. The jetty was built with two levels; the top level was the access path out to the boats that were tied up. There was a lower level that was the first defense against the sea. It was a good 10 feet below and it was walk able.

  Peppy yelled to Johno, “I’m going to use grenades. When they explode run to the boat, get in, and go!”

  Peppy jumped off the jetty down to the second level. He was out of the line of fire and he ran back to where he could hear the Germans firing above. He wanted to be sure he got exactly to the right location. Peppy lobbed two grenades up. He took out all four of the German soldiers.

  The gunfire stopped. Johno started to run. He would have jumped down to the lower level, but there was a collapsed section for 50 or 60 feet that had never been fixed. It was filled with water. He would have to run past the break and jump down to get out of the line of sight. Before he could make it he was hit by a sniper and fell off the top level. Peppy also could see what had happened from his position. He could see that just enough wall remained to traverse the break. He ran to where Johno had fallen, picked him up, and carried him carefully over the collapsed section to the boat. Johno had been shot in the back and had cracked his head badly from the fall. Peppy told Johno’s mother to apply pressure with her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding.

  “I’m so sorry! I have to get back to my men!” yelled Peppy, as he pushed the boat out from the jetty

  Peppy ran back as fast as he could the same way he had gone out. By the time he returned the shooting had stopped. One of our other men had been killed. I was holding Peter’s head. He was still breathing. He was a big man but there was no hope for him. He had taken at least three slugs. He was starting to spit blood. Peppy wiped his mouth.

  Peter looked up and said, “Did he make it? Did we get Johno to his mother?”

  “Yes they’re all gone. They’re safe now.” Peppy answered reassuringly.

  “Peppy we did a great thing didn’t we? Get a letter to my wife. Tell her I died for something worthwhile!” Then Peter died.

  Peppy said “We have to go now Gerard. There could be more coming at any moment!”

  I said, “What about our dead?”

  Peppy responded, “We have to leave them. There is no choice. I’m sorry we have to go now!” The three of us took off. The first chance I had, I asked Peppy about Johno.

  Peppy replied, “Johno didn’t make it. He was shot and cracked his head open. I put him in his mother’s arms. That was all that I could do.” Totally disheartened, I shook my head and said, “Then it was all for nothing! Just all for nothing!”

  The next morning Peppy said, “From here on, we must go our own way. I am not fit to lead you anymore. I have to go alone.”

  I tried to convince him to stay. Together we could keep up our work. But he was too distraught.

  With a sigh he told us, “I’ll miss you. You have been good soldiers. It has been an honor to serve with both of you. I cannot be responsible for your lives anymore.”

  “What will you do then,” I asked.

  He responded that he would stop hunting Germans directly. He would target traitors; Frenchman and others that have betrayed us or betrayed France. That is who he would kill.

  Again I questioned him, “Do I not have plenty of reason to feel the same?” Peppy’s answer was advice. “Yes of course you do, but I have to do this alone. There will be an invasion by the Americans and the British. I have a feeling it will come at Normandy. Work your way there; find others in the resistance. They will need your help. They will need all the help they can get, but stay low for awhile. Things are too hot.” Peppy shook hands with both of us and left.

  Colonel Pisani was motionless. He had not spoken a word while Gerard shared his story. Silence descended over the pair. The coffee was cold. The ashtray was now full of discarded ashes and butts. Gerard looked tired. He was sweating. The Colonel told Gerard to get some rest. He told him that was enough for now. Gerard collapsed into the small single mattress. Pisani watched a hero fall asleep. Before exiting the hotel room, Pisani put together a package of cash and contact informati
on for the next meeting. He left it on the table and went to prepare his report for General Alison.

  4

  LIFE WITH FRANK

  Johno did recover his health, but not his memory. As soon as he could be moved, he was shipped to an American military hospital in London. His mother and grandmother were again debriefed. Soon they were all three sent to the United States, and the General’s orders were followed. Johno was given the benefit of the best psychologists and psychiatrists available at the time. Known techniques were used to assure that his memory was wiped clean of his time in the resistance. This task was not as difficult as was presumed. With the fall on his head and the possibility that his subconscious refused to acknowledge his experiences it was deemed by the experts that he had no memory of the war.

  Satisfied with the outcome, the General facilitated the family’s move outside of a small city in the West. It was a big change for Johno’s mother and grandmother. Their past lives in Paris and on the Riviera had been lavish. They did however, have a hard time during the war, and were content with their new quiet lifestyle. They had been given new identities; Johno’s name had been changed to Jack. All efforts were concentrated on bringing up Jack.

  In time the war ended and his mother met a nice man. After a short courtship, they were married. Jack’s new stepfather quickly filled his role. He was the father that Jack would know forever as his only father. Frank was a good man, a good provider. He took to Jack as if he was his own son.

  Frank was an avid outdoorsman. He spent weeks and months with Jack in the outdoors. During their time together, he taught him many skills. He loved horses and Jack became adept in riding and caring for them too. Other lessons included how to survive in the woods, deserts, and mountains. Frank loved to fish and hunt. When it came time to go hunting Jack’s mother was unsure. However, Jack wanted to go and there was no way he could be held back. Frank was always amazed how quickly he could comprehend and perform the things he learned.

  One day Frank came home from work. He called to Jack. They were outside by the horses.

  He said, “Come over here. I brought you a present!”

  When Jack walked over, Frank said he had something every boy should have. He opened a box. Inside was a gleaming silver and wood-hunting knife. It was a beautiful tool. Jack picked it up and looked down at it for a long time. Frank asked if he liked it.

  Jack responded, “Yes sir, very much!” He balanced the blade on his index finger. Frank was about to tell him that it was not for throwing. Before he could get the words out, Jack had flipped it in the air, took it by the blade, and threw it at the barn door where it stuck deep! They were both surprised. Frank was amazed and asked where did he learn to do that?

  “I don’t know. I have never done it before. It just feels right,” sputtered Jack. After that Frank bought Jack a thick throwing knife to practice with. Jack did practice every chance he got. He acquired an uncanny skill for making a knife stick wherever he threw it.

  They had a happy home. There was one problem however. School was hard for Jack. He just did not seem to have any interest in sitting in a classroom. He would much rather be out riding his horse, hunting, or fishing. Even so he was always able to pass his exams. He would breeze through exams with little effort and even less study time.

  He had a problem with attendance and tardiness. Sometimes he would show interest briefly as he was introduced to new information and topics. He would obsess for a short time until he had grasped the subject. Then he rapidly would succumb to boredom and distractions.

  He was sorry to displease his parents. Jack despaired that he seemed so different from the other kids. He was much more comfortable with the adults.

  Many times his mother had met with the teacher to conference about Jack. One time the teacher indicated that she had spoken with Jack.

  His Teacher said, “I sat him down today and asked him why he felt different from other kids? I just wish he would show more interest in what I’m trying to teach. He understands the material because he passes my tests. Imagine how smart he could be if he was actually putting forth a good effort. He answered my question by saying that I did not understand. Jack continued that all of this education means absolutely nothing if we are dead. I asked him why he felt that way. He just shook his head and said he didn’t know. I thought it was very strange. Perhaps you could help.”

  His mother sighed evasively and apologized. She said, “I don’t know, he reads a lot. He’s very interested in history.”

  The teacher agreed and stated that he does show interest in European history. Interestingly Jack shows an interest in Napoleonic history as well. He is a good boy. He is polite and never disrupts classes. However, he has had a few fights outside of class with a couple of the older bigger boys. He is always quick to come to the defense of a victimized or bullied peer. He never backs down and it requires several adults to pull Jack off once a fight starts. Jack is somewhat of a hero in the class, because bullying has disappeared. His teacher told his mother that she was secretly thankful for that. They agreed to continue to do their best to raise this special child.

  Frank and Jack grew very close over the years. Frank loved to give gifts to Jack. He was a practical man, and he only would give what he thought were “useful” gifts.

  One year for Jack’s birthday Frank presented a surplus military 303 British Enfield jungle carbine. Jack really loved it. He would carry it on his a horse. It was accurate with iron sights and had good clean positive action. There was no reason to have the flash guard on the muzzle but he liked that as well. Frank explained that it had plenty of knockdown power and it was a good deer rifle for him.

  Then for Christmas Frank surprised him with a Winchester model 97, 12-gauge shotgun. Frank told him “With that hammer on it, you’ll always know whether it’s cocked or not. Jack cherished both of his weapons that Frank had given him. They spent countless hours together exploring and hunting the mountains around their home. Any father and son would envy their life. Sadly that was the last Christmas that Jack had together with Frank.

  5

  THE MERCKS

  1959

  By the time I was 18 or so I had a tremendous force pulling me to Europe.

  My French was only quite good, despite my mother’s efforts to make me speak perfectly over the years. I liked the language. I enjoyed it immensely actually. For some kind of subconscious reason, I had rebuked being serious about learning it. Yet I was good enough to handle myself. Right after my 24th birthday I was European bound.

  I wandered around Western Europe for some time. I woke up one morning and realized I was dangerously low on funds. I started to look around to see what I could do to make just enough money to get by. I didn’t have much luck. I was having a great time in Europe and I didn’t want to have to go home just yet. I was nearly one week away from living on the street, when I heard about a group that was looking for some healthy new recruits. I figured I qualified for that, I was healthy. The money sounded good, and I needed it. I found out where to apply. It was in Paris.

  I was greeted at the door by two very tough looking men in fatigues. They asked me what I wanted. I had been told the right thing to say. I also gave them the name of the man who turned me on to the opportunity. The men told me to go through the door on the left and take a seat. There was already about 10 men seated. Some appeared to be my age but most appeared a little older.

  I would have liked to ask some of the other men for more information but I was told at the door not to talk. Nobody else seemed to be talking anyway. A few more men came in after me. We waited another 15 minutes when two men came out. It was not the same two that were at the door. They were also dressed in fatigues. One was a captain. He got right to the point.

  They only told us we would be going to Africa. What we would be doing was saving lives and helping to restore democracy. At that point in my life I believed pretty much what I read in the newspaper. I figured if they printed it, it must be true. I had so
much to learn.

  We would be going to a boot camp of sorts for training. Unless you were an experienced mercenary, you probably would not be involved in fighting directly. What we were needed for was support tasks; driving supply trucks, administrative jobs, possibly even cooking and things like that. Well the pay was defi nitely very attractive, especially for the times. In addition, if by chance I were killed, a sizable amount of money would go to a beneficiary of my choice. I was comforted to think that my mother would be helped.

  The captain said, “Now I’m going to show you some slides so you know what kind of people we’re fighting and dealing with. Just to let you know what happens to people like you that are captured. Innocent people that just happen to get in the way can suffer the same fate.”

  The slides were very vivid and gruesome. One person a couple of aisles behind me threw up his breakfast all over the floor.

  The captain then said, “Alright that’s it. We want you to think about this carefully. Over there is the door. Go through it, you will find coffee and croissants. You have 30 minutes to make a decision. A bell will ring when your time is up. Those of you who don’t think this is your kind of thing, go out the door that leads to the street. Do not speak of what we’ve talked about to anyone. And I do mean anyone! Let us just say that we will be upset if we find out that you’re opening your mouth. I hope I make myself clear on that. Now if you do decide to return, understand that there is no turning back. Once you’ve joined, you’re in. You will not be able to contact or visit your family. You will be working for an organization that does not answer to any official government. You will be paid handsomely in cash. There’s no getting out until your contract is over. We are a Para-military organization and expect you to follow orders and the chain of command. We will treat you fair if you work hard for us.”

  Some of us talked it over together. Others still said nothing.