D-Day_Battle on the Beach Read online

  Ranger felt an unmistakable tug to follow, even though the air still boomed with gunfire. He jumped out of the ditch, paws slipping on the wet sand, and ran after Walt.

  Walt couldn’t run very fast with the weight of his wet pack, so Ranger caught up quickly. Walt didn’t look down. His eyes were trained on the water. He didn’t stop when he reached the waves. He splashed in, sinking into the wet sand in his boots. Soon he was up to his waist, plunging his arms into the waves.

  Ranger bounded into the sea, too. A wave swept his paws out from under him. He paddled against the current, struggling to keep his nose out of the water.

  The air was thick with smells — salt water and smoke. Chemicals and blood and fear. Ranger caught Walt’s scent mixed with the smells of other men. Ranger could tell some of those men were still in the water.

  Again, Walt reached deep into the crashing waves. This time, he tugged and staggered back. He pulled again and lugged a soldier from the water by the arm. The man was shorter than Walt but much heavier. Ranger wanted to help, but all he could do was watch as Walt dragged the man to the beach.

  Walt knelt and pounded the man’s chest. He blew two long breaths into the man’s mouth. Walt did that again and again until the man coughed up water and rolled onto his side.

  “Come on!” Walt tugged at the man’s arms, pulling him to his feet. “Get to cover!” Walt held the man up as they staggered back to the rocky ditch and collapsed.

  One of the other soldiers clapped Walt on the shoulder. “You saved him!”

  Ranger waited for Walt to go back, to help the other men. But Walt reached for his pack.

  Ranger barked. There were more men still out in the water. Two of them. Ranger had smelled their sweat and their breath and their fear. But he couldn’t save them without Walt’s help.

  Ranger barked again. Walt ignored him, or maybe he couldn’t hear over the rattling gunfire that still pounded the beach.

  Ranger pawed at Walt. He jumped up on him and pushed him with his front legs.

  Walt swatted him away. “Get out of here, dog!”

  But Ranger barked again. He jumped out of the ditch and ran toward the water. Then he ran back to Walt, barking. He ran back and forth until finally, Walt turned and stared into the waves.

  “Are there more?” Walt said. Ranger knew Walt wasn’t talking to him, but he understood one word.

  More! That was a command from Ranger’s search-and-rescue training. Sometimes, when he was practicing to find people trapped in fallen-down buildings, he’d find Luke hiding in a big pipe or under a wooden box. Usually, that meant Ranger’s work was done, and it was time to go home. But sometimes, Luke or Dad would point him back to the rubble and say, “Find more!” That meant more people needed help. Just like they did today.

  More! Find more!

  Ranger barked again. He raced back into the waves, hoping Walt would follow. He tracked the men’s scents to the spot where he’d been before. The salt water splashed into his eyes and stung them, but Ranger dived into the waves again and again. Finally, his paws touched something solid. Ranger lifted his head out of the waves. He barked and barked until Walt came running back into the sea.

  Walt dragged two more men onto the beach. He pounded their chests until they coughed up water and breathed again. Then another man came and helped Walt drag them both through the gunfire to a safer spot.

  Ranger stayed by Walt’s side. When they finally made it out of the gunfire and into the ditch, Walt leaned back and looked up at the sky, breathing hard. He put a hand on Ranger’s neck and ruffled his wet fur. “You had my back out there, didn’t you, dog?”

  Ranger leaned into Walt and waited for something to happen. He could see his first aid kit, half buried in the sand of the ditch along with someone’s pack. He’d found a way to help, but the old metal box was still quiet. There was no humming sound, letting him know his job was done. That meant there was more work to do before he could go home.

  The gunfire quieted for a moment, but then a new sound filled the sky. A buzz and then a growl of airplanes. Two of them roared overhead. The planes passed over a ridge and disappeared. There was a whistle, then an enormous blast. Even far away, it shook the sand under Ranger’s paws.

  Smoke and dust rose into the sky. What had happened? Ranger’s skin prickled, and he knew his work wasn’t done.

  He scrambled out of the ditch and raced over the beach toward the ridge.

  Ranger ran up the beach, dodging sharp bits of metal that jutted out of the sand. The air was full of smoke and noise. At the bottom of a steep hill, Ranger came to a tiny box of a house, made of concrete. The skin on his neck prickled. The windows of the building had guns instead of glass. The men inside wore clothes that were different from Walt’s. Different from the other men on the beach.

  Ranger crouched low and slipped past them, behind the building, and up the hill. His paws slipped in the mud, but he climbed to the top. A village spread out in the gray morning light. Its streets were lined with small shops and houses and a little stone church. At the edge of the village, thick smoke rose from a heaping pile of rocks and timbers.

  Ranger raced down the hill through the weeds and brush. Pricker bushes grabbed at his fur, but Ranger pushed through until he came to a big field with another ditch full of people. They were quieter and dressed differently than any of the men on the beach. Here, there were women and children. Ranger leaped over the ditch at a narrow spot and headed for the billowing smoke.

  When he got to the rubble pile, he stopped. Was it a house? Whatever it was, something had crushed it. Were the people who lived here safe out in the ditch? Or was someone trapped underneath the heaps of stone and wood?

  Ranger stepped carefully onto a plank at the edge of the mess. It wobbled, and he had to shift his weight to balance. Somewhere in the mess of crushed furniture and splintered wood, there was a creak and then a thump. This site wasn’t stable. Ranger knew from his training that fallen-down buildings were dangerous places to search.

  Ranger had practiced this kind of searching with Luke and his dad. He’d practiced moving safely over all kinds of surfaces. He’d balanced on planks and walked over old car hoods and bedsprings. He’d crawled through dark tunnels and climbed up ladders. Sometimes, he and Luke went to the playground so Ranger could walk over the seesaw. He’d climb up and down the metal slide and practice spreading his toes so he wouldn’t slip back down.

  But this was no playground. Ranger leaped onto a pile of rocks. He smelled smoke and sharp chemicals, but also a trace of food from the night before — meat and apples and bread. Ranger circled the outside of the pile of rubble. That way he would be sure to catch the scent of any people trapped in the timbers and stones.

  He climbed over a pile of boards and down into a low, open space that must have been a kitchen once. A toppled cabinet had sent dishes shattering over the wooden floor. Ranger stepped carefully between the chunks of pottery and jagged shards of glass. The smells were stronger here. That happened sometimes in low places where scents pooled, out of the wind. Ranger could smell the same smoke and food but also … cat?

  He climbed over the cabinet and sniffed again. Definitely cat.

  Ranger made his way around the edge of the kitchen space. He jumped over what was left of a chimney.

  “Mreeeow!” A black-and-white cat perched on a rough chunk of rock, staring at him. It looked like Ruggles, the cat that lived next door to Luke and Sadie. But this cat’s fur was wet and matted. One of its ears was smaller than the other. It wore a tiny bell on a muddy blue ribbon around its neck.

  Ranger barked at the cat. It didn’t move. Then the wind shifted, and he caught a new scent in the air. A person smell!

  Ranger padded carefully around the fallen chimney and sniffed again. The person scent was stronger here. He climbed over another tumbled beam and found a boy curled up in a corner. The boy looked about Luke’s age, but his hair was darker, and he was a lot skinnier. The boy wasn’t trapped under a
nything, but his eyes were closed.

  It wasn’t safe to stay here. Not with bits of the house still settling and falling. Ranger barked, but the boy didn’t wake up.

  Ranger barked again and licked him on the cheek. The boy’s face twitched. Ranger pawed at his shoulder until the boy opened his eyes. “Where’d you come from, dog?” he whispered. And then, “Where’s Belle?”

  Ranger didn’t know what the boy was saying, but he knew they had to get away from these teetering stones and unsteady beams. He pawed the boy’s shoulder until he stood up.

  “Belle? Belle!” the boy called.

  There was a jingle from behind them. The boy whipped around and dropped to his knees.

  “You’re here!” All at once, the boy was laughing and crying and hugging the not-Ruggles cat. “Thank goodness I didn’t lose you for good. I kept my promise.” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks.

  Ranger barked, and the boy looked up. “Are you lost, too, dog? I’m Leo.” He patted Ranger on the head with his cat-smelling hand and whispered, “It’s good that you can’t give away secrets. I’m supposed to tell people here my name is Henri. Who do you belong to? I wonder —”

  The Leo boy stopped talking and stared past Ranger into the sky.

  Ranger heard a sound that prickled the fur on his neck. It was the quiet buzz from before, getting louder again, and louder. Ranger looked up. There was no ceiling left in Leo’s house, so nothing blocked the chilling view of the sky.

  Five more planes soared in formation over the smoking countryside. They were getting closer by the second.

  “Bombers!” Leo shouted. He scooped up the cat, jumped to his feet, and stumbled over the stones. “Come on, dog! Run to the ditch!”

  Ranger leaped out of the rubble and waited at the edge of the house. The planes made a loud rumble that rattled him from his paws to his tail. They were coming closer by the second. The boy needed to hurry. Ranger barked at him.

  Leo scrambled over a jumble of fallen shelves. He had to put Belle down to climb through a heap of stones that used to be the pantry. The planes droned louder and louder. Belle leaped over a fallen beam and tore through the garden.

  “Belle, no!” Leo hoisted himself up and chased after her, tripping through the broken rocks.

  The planes roared, almost overhead. Ranger barked. Faster! Or they’d never make it to the ditch in time!

  Leo pumped his legs as hard as he could, sloshing through the wet field with the shaggy golden dog beside him. He couldn’t see Belle anymore. He could only hope she’d run to the ditch where Mr. and Mrs. Blanc were waiting.

  Leo sucked in great gulps of damp morning air. His legs burned. The planes were screaming overhead. Why couldn’t he run faster?

  Then Leo’s foot caught on a rock and he flew forward. Whumph! He landed on his stomach in the mud and couldn’t breathe at all.

  The planes were deafening. Leo didn’t dare look. He curled into a ball, as small as he could, and covered his head with his arms. Ranger crouched low beside him.

  The bombers roared so low they shook the earth.

  But nothing fell. There was no blast this time. The planes thundered over them and continued inland.

  Leo finally caught his breath and tipped his head up to look. The planes were already growing smaller. Where were they headed? He thought of his grandparents and his mother, still in Paris as far as he knew, and said a quiet prayer for their safety. For all of his family’s safety, wherever they were. And then he thought of his older sister, Rebecca. Where was her cat?

  Leo stood and started trudging through the field again. “Belle! Where’d you go, Belle?”

  Ranger walked alongside him, and after a few minutes, they came to a shallow ditch. It looked like someone had dug it quickly. Shovels were tossed on the ground nearby. But whoever had been here was gone now.

  It wasn’t as deep as the other ditch, on the beach, but it was better than nothing. They needed shelter, even though the planes were gone for now. Ranger nudged Leo toward the ditch.

  Leo pushed back. He squinted into the distance and thought he saw a flash of white in the thick bushes along the ridge near the beach. Leo hesitated. It was smokier and louder over that way. The Allies and Germans must be fighting near the sea. And what if the bombers returned? It would be safer to take cover, but Leo had to keep the promise he’d made to Rebecca the last time he’d seen her.

  That was two summers ago, on the day of the roundup. Leo remembered as if it were yesterday. How could he forget the banging at their apartment door? French police dragged his entire family out of bed that morning, marched them away, and crammed them into a crowded truck that brought them to the Vélodrome d’Hiver, the big cycling stadium near the Eiffel Tower. The police packed the stadium with thousands of Jewish men, women, and children. There was no food or water for two days. Leo’s eyes and throat burned with the awful smells of too many people with nowhere to use the bathroom.

  Leo’s mother had been sick before they left. Her cough grew deeper and more rattly by the hour. Finally, his father convinced an officer to send her to see a doctor at the hospital. Leo was sent along to care for her.

  As he left, Rebecca said, “If you get back to the apartment, you must feed Belle.”

  “All right,” Leo said, and started to go.

  But Rebecca clutched his wrist. Her eyes shone with tears. “Be safe,” she whispered. “Care for her. And for yourself.”

  “I will. I promise.” Then Leo followed the soldiers who loaded his mother into a truck and drove her to the hospital across town. They put her in a crowded room with five other women.

  The following morning, Leo’s mémère arrived. Somehow, she’d learned they were at the hospital. She kissed Leo on the cheeks, then sat by his mother’s bed and stroked her hair. When the doctor stepped out, there were whispered words between Mémère and his mother.

  The next thing Leo knew, Mémère was hurrying him out of the hospital and through the crowded streets. He spent the night at his grandparents’ small apartment. In the morning, they hurried down the block to the empty apartment Leo’s family had left the day before.Mémère packed up some clothes for Leo. She carefully removed the yellow star from his jacket.

  “But, Mémère,” Leo said, “won’t I get in trouble with the police?” The Nazis required Jews to wear a yellow star and carry identity papers at all times.

  “Hush,” Mémère whispered. “Come with me.”

  Leo scooped up Belle under one arm and tucked her into the bag with his clothing. Thankfully, the old cat was quiet. Mémère rushed Leo through the city streets to the train station, gripping his hand as they walked past German soldiers at the gate. They boarded a train bound for Normandy. Mémère’s eyes darted everywhere. Leo didn’t dare to speak.

  It was only when the train chugged away and the buildings of Paris gave way to fields and farmhouses that Mémère seemed to breathe again. It wasn’t safe in Paris anymore, she explained as they rattled through the countryside. And it wasn’t safe to be Jewish anywhere. Leo would have to pretend to be a Catholic boy helping on his uncle’s farm. Leo was good at pretending, Mémère reminded him. It wouldn’t be forever.

  Whenever it felt safe enough, Mémère had come to see him on the farm. She’d visited several times in the two years since she’d left him. Every time, Leo asked when he could go home.

  Mémère’s answer was always the same. Soon, she hoped. Soon.

  When Leo asked about his mother, his father, and his sister, Mémère only said they should pray. Pray for the Allies to come soon, and hopefully one day, they might be together again.

  Today, in a morning of smoke and bombs, the Allies had finally arrived. Leo held his hand over his eyes to block the sun and stared off into the distance.

  He caught a glimpse of Belle’s black-and-white tail swishing in the leaves and took off running toward the beach.

  Ranger raced in front of Leo and tried to block his way. The smoky beach wasn’t safe! But Leo push
ed Ranger aside and kept running.

  When they reached the row of pricker bushes where Leo thought he’d seen the cat, he crouched low and whistled. “Belle?” he called, pushing branches aside. But the cat wasn’t there. Leo climbed higher on the ridge to see where she might have gone. He hoisted himself over a rocky ledge, stood up, and gasped.

  Leo dropped to the ground and stared out toward the water. His heart thudded against his ribs as he tried to take in the scene spread out before him.

  Everywhere he looked, soldiers with rifles pressed to their shoulders were aiming up into the cliffs. Huge trucks crawled over the beach. Skeletons of burned-out tanks littered the shore. The sea was clogged with ships of every size. Wave after wave of soldiers spilled from the boats and surged onto the sand. Leo’s beautiful beach, with its cool winds and crashing waves, had exploded into a mess of smoke and twisted metal.

  Leo’s heart sank. Belle always lurked under the bed when the farmhouse was too noisy. He would never find her in the middle of this chaos. She was probably scared to death. Unless she’d found someplace to hide …

  Leo crept forward on his hands and knees to a higher spot on the ridge. His hands were scraped, and the bushes scratched at his belly through his shirt. But maybe from here, he could see where she might have gone.

  Just down the hill was a pillbox, a little concrete building where soldiers took shelter. The Germans had built them all up and down the coast because they knew the Allied forces might come across the English Channel by boat.

  This one sat quietly now. Was it empty? It would be cool and dark inside — just the kind of place Belle loved to hide. But what if someone else was hiding there?

  Leo picked up a rock the size of a small apple. He took a deep breath and threw it into a thicket near the pillbox. Then he ducked low and waited.

  If there were German soldiers inside, they’d come out to investigate, wouldn’t they? They’d have to make sure that noise wasn’t an enemy hiding in the brush. Leo waited with his heart pounding.