Amelie

[Stinky]

I wrote this a wee while back in response to a conversation with a friend.
We were talking of a WW2 action that happened.
And I promised not to detract from it , such an incredible story that nothing I could write would compare.
So, as promised ,I changed things a little.
So we have...
Amelie.
Please, just enjoy my little story, but think of the unnamed, unthanked people who made tales such as this possible.
Amelie.

The landing is not good.

My leg broken I think.

Full moon and I will be seen.

Cannot move.

Pain is a scream in my leg.

Jesus Lord help me.

And she comes.

A child.

Wild eyed and panting with fear.

Help me.

Help me please.

Huge eyes.

Lips atremble.

Sshh.

They will come if you cry.

Sshh.

Talking so gentle, she is Amelie and will get her Mum.

A hand raised to touch my face and she is gone.

Rough voices and gentle hands.

Parachute pulled down.

Hands under me.

And darkness.

Soup and pain.

And darkness.

Help me.

And she sits with me.

Amelie of the eyes.

And talks.

She is seven.

And has saved me.

Light and more pain.

Faces above me, frowning, worried.

I ask for Amelie.

And the room changes.

Tears.

Shock.

And I do not understand.

Stricken faced, a Granny looms.

Amelie is her Granddaughter.

And with her mother, was shot by the Germans two days before I parachuted into France.