Young Lions Roar Read Online Free PDF Page B

her younger cousin and thought of Anne as the younger sister that she never had. It was a real comfort for them both to be living under the same roof.
    The family walked down the farm lane on their regular route to the Frampton Church of England village church and were joined on the way by other villagers. Monique’s husband, Victor, was
painfully aware that the churchgoers were overwhelmingly made up of women, children and older men such as himself. The only young men in the village were a few disabled veterans who were wheeled
along on wheelchairs or who propelled themselves through the village streets on crutches. The wounded had all been crippled in the War. Victor’s eyes filled up with tears as he thought of his
only son, Paul, Emily’s younger brother, who had been a Merchant Seaman and had been lost at sea when German U-boats had sunk his ship, ‘The Russell.’
    “Morning, Vicar.” Roos shook Bill Ritchie’s hand as the Vicar greeted him on the church steps. “Nice day for it.”
    “Morning, Vic. May I have a moment of your time?” Ritchie gestured with an open palm to the side of the door.
    “Certainly, Bill.” Roos stepped to the side as the Vicar welcomed the rest of the family as they entered the church.
    “How is she, Victor?” Ritchie asked with concern.
    “Anne?” Roos answered. “As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.”
    “She’s lost both her parents in a matter of days, Vic, which is a heavy burden for anyone to carry, never mind a seventeen year old girl...”
    “Yes it is...”
    “But she could not be in safer hands, Vic, and if anyone can pull her through, you can.”
    “Thanks, Bill... that means a lot to me.”
    A pause. “And how’s Monique bearing up? Any word about Paul?”
    “Absolutely nothing.” Roos shook his head in despair. “There were very few survivors from ‘The Russell’ and none of them knew what had happened to Paul. We can only
assume the worst and presume that Paul is dead.”
    “Your family has been particularly badly hit by the War, Vic.” Ritchie said sympathetically. “First Paul, then Archie. Now Davie and Sarah…”
    “Our family has been no more badly hit than any other family in Britain, Bill.” Roos said stoically. “We just have to grin and bear it just like in the last war. Slowly but
surely we’ll grind the bastards down. As long as Churchill and the King keep fighting up in Scotland, there’s always hope.”
    Ritchie straightened up to a position of attention. “That’s the spirit! Once a Fusilier always a Fusilier! Strength and honour, Vic.” Ritchie reached out his hand.
    “Strength and honour, Bill.” Victor clasped his old friend’s hand in a firm handshake.
    The sound of lorries entering Frampton Village Square and stopping at the foot of the church steps caused the congregation to stop singing. The thick oak door opened and the
parishioners collectively gasped in horror as an SS officer strode confidently down the aisle towards the pulpit, slapping his leather gloves in his hand as he approached the vicar. The
congregation’s reaction to the German was as severe as if Satan himself had made an appearance and desecrated the holy ground of the church. When he reached the pulpit, the SS officer turned
around and flashed a smile that revealed a set of dazzling dentures that would have made a Hollywood star green with envy.
    “Judging by your reaction to my entrance I’ll wager that it’s been many a year since an enemy soldier has corrupted your church with his presence. Possibly the first since the
Norman Conquest? Don’t worry.” He chuckled good-humouredly, “I won’t take it personally.” He waited in vain for a response from the congregation. “Ladies and
Gentlemen, boys and girls, my dear Vicar,” the SS Obersturmführer continued in perfect English without a hint of a guttural German accent. He bowed to Ritchie before turning back to face
the congregation. “There is absolutely no