The French Resistance

The French Resistance was pinned down. MG-42 fire was concentrated on their positions. Bullets perforated trees. Tracer rounds left fiery afterimages in the dark air. The Resistance members occasionally ducked up to fire a short burst from their MAS-38 submachineguns, but their weapons were ineffective against the longer-ranged German machine guns.

Huddled behind a large boulder, Jean discussed the situation with his cell leader and close friend, Charles. (They'd gotten into the habit of only referring to each-other by first name.) "Charles," Jean lamented, "What are we going to do? The Krauts and their Vichy dogs will come in for the kill any time now! We've got three other cells here, pinned down with us - the whole resistance from Champs-de-vivre to Estange! We've gotta do something!"

Charles stroked his long, flowing brown beard. A grenade went off, several meters away; both men flinched. Then Charles tucked his scarf around his neck decisively. "I have it!" he said. "I'll take you and Mark and Aaron to the right; Pierre and Gustav will take Albert left. We'll flank them. In the darkness, they'll never see us coming."

Jean fiddled with his beret nervously. "It's risky," he complained.

Charles reached over, fixing Jean's beret at a jaunty angle. "But it just might work," he said. Raising his voice, he called out, "Cells 39 and 12, get over here! I have a plan."

-

After an agonizing timeless creep through the woodland, Charles's team had reached the German MG nests. The guns had been kept busy by the intermittent firing of the Resistance cell left behind. German and Vichy troops sat near the MG crews, waiting for the order to attack. Charles didn't know if the other two had flanked the nests; but he had to hope. Deciding that he'd given them enough time, he pumped his fist, once. Taking the signal, Aaron pulled the pin on the cell's stolen grenade and tossed it into the closer MG nest. It exploded, lighting the night in a flash of orange fire; and the Resistance men charged.

Shooting their guns like this - bam bam bam - with scarfs and berets, the Frenchmen drove the occupation forces back. Demoralized by the sudden turnabout of their fortunes, the Germans were forced into full retreat. The night was won! The Resistance was safe!

And they ate baguettes, to celebrate.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written at school, this was inspired by a conversation with David about asking girls out to the Winter Formal.