Violins of Autumn Read Online Free PDF Page A

had any luck. My aunt told me they stopped manufacturing them.
    Now the coded messages are part of my job. Listening to foreign broadcasts is illegal in France, but that won’t stop me. Those Germans have some nerve, banishing free speech. I can’t imagine facing fines, imprisonment, or even death for something as simple as listening to a radio. I bet most French people feel the way I do, and they listen to the BBC’s radio broadcasts
because
they’re not supposed to.
    “We are grateful for the Sten guns, pistols, and demolition packs the SOE has supplied us with,” Pierre says. “But our situation is about to become dire. Everyone, even Hitler, knows the Allies intend to cross the Channel and invade within months. We don’t know when or where it will happen, but our time to act is now.”
    Like the Pied Piper’s entrancing flute music, his heartfelt patriotism has a hypnotic pull. I give my head a slight shake to focus.
    “German troops have been occupying and fortifying our country for four years. They will not scatter out of the way and let the Allies roll through France to Germany. They are entrenched. They are waiting, eager to fight. The northern coast may as well be a vast brick wall. It is up to us, the Resistance, to weaken the strength and morale of that wall. The Germans must not have the upper hand when
le Jour J
arrives.”
    Le Jour J
: D-day.
    Only the Allied planners of the invasion know when and where it will take place. I’m used to hearing about this future “D-day”—the day the invasion will begin—but the way Pierre speaks of it grabs my attention, like a sharp tug to my arm. He doesn’t take the word lightly. I sense just how strongly he feels about the invasion, how much it will mean to him, and it reinvigorates my excitement to be part of such a monumental day.
    “We urgently need heavier weapons,” he says. “Before you leave, can you transmit that request?”
    “I’ll pass it along,” Denise says. “I need to radio headquarters today to let them know we’ve arrived safely.”
    “Thank you. The last radio operator we used to communicate with London left for Paris. She was never seen or heard from again.”
    Pierre makes it sound as if her disappearance were more an inconvenience than anything else. And why mention her in the first place? To purposefully frighten Denise and me right before we embark on our missions?
    Denise’s eyes narrow. “Radio operators perform incredibly dangerous work in the field. Hopefully that woman hasn’t been captured or killed.”
    He gives her an offhand nod and says, “I’m taking a load of supplies to the men. Bishop said you two can help with that. Since you’re the only agents here, I guess I have no choice. Come with me.”
    My mouth drops open after Pierre abruptly walks out the front door with the radio.
    “No choice?” I say to Denise. “Doesn’t he realize we had to pass the exact same physical and psychological training as the men in our group to get here? The SOE didn’t pluck girls from the market and drop them into France to look pretty. Where would he and his men be without us?”
    Denise crosses her arms. “If he’s expecting us to cook breakfast for them, then he should think again. That is not what I signed up for. And he carted off my radio. Who exactly does he think is going to operate it to pass on that list of requirements he just mentioned?”
    Denise has good reason to be in a huff. Anyone, even a child, can easily use a home radio. Denise’s radio requires training and skill. The first time I saw the lid lift open on a suitcase wireless set like hers my mind boggled at all the tubes, switches, meters, plugs, and sockets packed into such a small space. Not to mention the fluency with Morse code necessary to operate such a piece of technology.
    Switching back to the required French, she says, “Let’s go.”
    We stuff our feet into shoes and follow Pierre along a well-worn path to a stone barn, where a