Free Simple Faith by Anna Schmidt Page B

start with the realities of the situation. As I understand it, you will need to move me all the way across France and Spain, not to mention the Pyrenees—all territory that is either occupied by or friendly toward the Nazis. If they are looking for me and—”
    “They are also looking for me and Lisbeth and Anja, yet here we are.”
    The man had a point. “You are German. Perhaps—”
    “Do not deceive yourself, Peter. If you think for one minute that the Nazis would give me amnesty because of my nationality, think again.” His gaze had hardened to a steely glint. “My wife and I—and Anja—served for months in Sobibor. Every day we watched as hundreds of innocents walked to their deaths. Every night we fell asleep with the scent of burning human flesh clogging our senses. If they caught us now, death would most assuredly be our fate—German or not.”
    Peter looked down at his hands. “I apologize. Anja has told me about … some of what you and your wife went through.”
    “I am not your enemy, Peter—not all Germans are your enemy. It’s important that you understand that.”
    Peter nodded and studied his hands. “This business of needing to rebuild my strength—can you help me with that?”
    “I can and will, or rather Anja will. She’ll be here later today to go with you for your first walk outside. A couple out for an evening stroll tends to raise less suspicion than two men walking together might. In the meantime, I will show you some strengthening exercises that you can do here in your room and—”
    “Tell me more about this escape line,” Peter interrupted. He was hungry for information—the more he had the more likely his chance of making it back to his unit in England. “How did it get started?”
    Josef hesitated. “I will tell you only what is commonly known by everyone—including the Nazis.” He glanced toward the window. “The first thing is that there is not just a single escape line—there are several. The second is that although it would appear that the most direct route would be by sea across the channel or perhaps a rescue by air, that is not possible.”
    “So what is the route? Anja mentioned the need to be able to hike and climb and—”
    “Evaders like you must be moved through France, over the mountains and into Spain. All along the way, you will need to rely on the bravery of locals who will see that you are sheltered and fed and hidden for as long as necessary. Eventually your destination will be the British embassy in Madrid. From there you can be moved to the British territory of Gibraltar and the naval base there.”
    “Who came up with that idea?”
    “A young woman—Andrée de Jongh, or Dédée—back in 1941. Early on, escape across the water off the coast of the Netherlands or Belgium became impossible, and it was her idea to take those escaping directly to a British consulate or embassy. She is a nurse like Anja.”
    “I thought you weren’t supposed to name names.”
    Josef shrugged. “Dédée was arrested recently and is no doubt incarcerated in one of the Nazi prison camps … if she is still alive.”
    Peter felt a chill at the thought of someone like Anja being held in a German prison camp—or maybe the woman had been taken to one of the concentration camps he had heard about. He’d always assumed that the stories about such places had to be at least partially made up. But after hearing her stories—and Josef’s—about what they had witnessed firsthand, he was beginning to accept that the level of pure evil associated with this war went beyond anything he could have imagined. He glanced around, gauging his surroundings.
    “How come I’m kind of out in the open here? I mean, if they came looking for me, seems all they’d need to do is climb the stairs.”
    A slow smile spread across Josef’s haggard features. “That’s right. You have seen only that back stairway and the trapdoor through which you arrived. Come.” He motioned for Peter to