My Troubles With Time Read Online Free PDF

dive, at the same time searching the ground below me for a suitable landing site. The artillery fire ceased, but I now became the target for small arms fire from German troops. Passing over the German lines, I traveled over the outskirts of Paris. To avoid undue attention from anyone on the ground, I searched for a landing spot in an out of the way place that also afforded me sufficient room to permit me to land the damaged time machine safely.
    I had almost given up hope of achieving my purpose when I spotted what appeared to a deserted square. The area was grassed over and treeless. It was, in short, a perfect site to set down and repair the time machine.
    Descending quickly, I landed the apparatus without difficulty and opened the door to get outside. Extricating myself from the time machine proved more of a problem. Each time I tried to do so, my dress sword became entangled with the control panels.
    At length, I managed to disentangle the sword and climbed out. Resisting the temptation to immediately inspect the machine for damage, I carefully scrutinized all sides of the square for signs of activity. The square appeared deserted.
    Most of the buildings that lined the square were two-story brick residences. Here and there were stores in the first story of residences. A rather large church occupied one corner. Most of the houses had windows that were shuttered. The store windows were boarded up for protection. Many of the buildings exhibited war damage. I concluded that the square had been the site of fighting during the siege and that the residents had sought safety in flight.
    My immediate concerns eased, I turned to the time machine. A rapid check revealed no structural damage to the frame. I then took out the emergency repair kit and began unscrewing the control panel to inspect the electrical circuits.
    As I bent down, my officer’s hat fell off. Annoyed, I put down my screwdriver to retrieve the hat. It was fortunate I did so. From the street by the side of the church I saw a skirmish line of German troops led by an officer in a spike helmet turn the corner.
    The officer caught sight of me and shouted something guttural in German. I knew nothing of the language, but his tone seemed threatening. Then, horrified, I saw the troops behind him lift their rifles and aim them in my direction.
    There was no mistaking their unfriendly intent. I quickly bent down, picked up my hat and waved it above my head in what I hoped would be interpreted as a friendly fashion. To my relief, the officer shouted something and the troops lowered their weapons. Slowly the line of troops approached me.
    As a child, I had seen numerous movies portraying Germans in World War II. I frantically reviewed in my mind all of the German words I remembered from them to see if any might help me convince the German officer of my peaceful intent. Nothing useful came to mind.
    In the absence of anything more suitable, I took my white handkerchief from my pocket and waved it frantically. The German officer halted his troops. I was about to congratulate myself over the success of my effort to communicate with him when I heard shouts and gunfire to my right.
    Turning, I realized that the buildings along that side of the square had not been deserted as I had thought. From them, about a hundred armed men had emerged and were firing at the German troops. Their ragged appearance indicated they were French militia rather than regular troops. I ducked as bullets whistled around me, hoping that neither the time machine nor I would be hit.
    The militiamen moved past me, firing at the Germans as they advanced. Several of the French went down, hit by the heavier German counter-fire. I stood and attempted to move the time machine to the side of the square, hoping to be able to protect it from the fighting.
    Suddenly, I was grabbed and forcibly turned around. Two of the French militia stood pointing their rifles at me. A third held me securely from behind.
    I struggled