A matter of detonators.

After his brother had returned in the dining room, since customers of such nature couldnt wait, Georges Hartmann fell sound asleep. He was only awakened by Alphonse at 2 AM the following day, March 19th :

- Wake up, they finally left
What, already two hours in the morning? Not enough now time for our job !
- Dont worry, little brother! The explosives are already in place.
- How that, already in place?
- Yes, we did that Tuesday evening, your colleague of Altkirch and me.
- You are insane; it was out of question for him. He had only to play messenger, no more.
- I could not stop him...
- Stopping? You rather pushed him, as usual.
- Well, no time for an argument! Shall we go, yes or no ? Do you have the detonators? "

They left the Auberge du Cerf (Stags Inn, but on the sign was in fact written Zum Hirsch since 1895, and nobody translated that after 1919; so Alphonses mother-in-law could say in 1940 :So much saved since were changing country everytime.). Their target was the canal-bridge of Wolfersdorf, which was less than two kilometres away. This canal-bridge, just in the prolongation of one of the locks, spanned the Largue river (Larg in German), overhanging the water by only a few meters. Of course, they dont took the road which connected Dannemarie (Dammerkirch in German) to the town of Wolfersdorf, but first circumvented the stadium, then followed the bed of the Largue, encumbered with barbed wire near the canal-bridge. This barbed wire seemed impenetrable for a casual observer looking from the canal-bridge, but had been cut by Alphonse a long time ago, and the canal-bridge could be reached by someone who knew where to pass. No soldier kept watch, neither on the canal-bridge itself, nor on the lock or the nearby road. To set up the detonators took a little more time than expected, Georges having the greatest difficulties with Alphonse, sitting on his shoulders, to remain erect long enough. Two of the arches of the canal-bridge were undermined, explosions being expected two hours later at about 5 AM, since the detonators were wearing the number 2, as Georges had double checked it.

Both returned then at the Auberge du Cerf. Alphonse fell quietly asleep beside his wife, who had awaited him anxiously. Goerges could not find sleep, waiting feverishly until the detonation occurs. The bell of the church of Dannemarie struck soon four hours, then five, then six, and no abnormal noise disturbed the night. A little later, Alphonse emerged, and found Georges going round in circles inside the kitchen:

- I heard nothing, we flunked it. All these efforts for nothing!

- It is not a drama, there will be other occasions...

- I do not know what happened, the explosives were too old, or the detonators defective. However, I put two of them per dynamite package, to be on the safe side.

- Mysteries of the technology, I suppose. Good, more Feldgrau customers will soon be here, and I a must be ready for that.

- In any case, I ask you not to going take a look at what happened. Its not necessary that the whole stuff explode under your nose when youre twiddling it!

- Hey, I am not insane! I will await one week or two before returning there. And, if I were you; I would hurry to return, because if you are late at the hospital, I know someone who will not miss you!

Georges took his bicycle again and pedalled at full speed to Mulhouse. Under way, the road ran several times along the Canal du Rhone au Rhin, and he could guess the profiles of the submarines in the first gleams of the day. After a short stop at his home to reassure his wife, kiss his young son, and also to freshen up a bit, he came at the hospital, where of course Graunitz awaited him:

- Ach! Not too early. I learned that yesterday was very busy for you. Lot of work, isnt it? Therefore, to give you some rest, I will again take care of the patients today. You will fill the reports intended for the Reichs Inspection of the Health, its less tiring.

Anything but not that ! The administrative paperwork of the Third Reich still exceeded in volume and complexity that of the French Republic, yet famous in that aspect. He was going to spend long hours in specifying the date, the hour, the circumstances, the type and serial number of the device used, the duration of the examination, the age of the patient and a dozen other information for all the acts of radiology done in the department since the beginning of the year, the whole on Gothic written forms. A good pencil pusher would have done that in no time, but the regulations were strict Must be filled out by the hand of a doctor.

That evening, returning at home, Georges Hartmann was not in his highest spirits. After entering his door, his wife, with a frown look, pushed in his direction an object looking like a pen. Georges was near fainting, it was one of the detonators. He had taken one detonator too many with him from his supply before leaving Altkirch. Before making it disappear in a public dustbin with potatoes peelings, he took time to have a sharp look on the detonator, under a powerful light. At the right of the number 2 appeared, almost invisible, a 4 number. Hope was still possible.

A well-spent night for Nemo

The night from the 18th to the 19th was to remain engraved in the memory of the members of the French commando.

After having let the group of Chief Martinez take some advance, it was our turn to enter in Alsace. The progression in the forest was rather easy, even if our guide rather often had to make us circumvent big holes left by the explosion of heavy calibre German shells about thirty years earlier, and in which the vegetation took slowly his rights again. I could only admire the courage of those who had preceded us here, and who had to endure these 210s poundings. The impression to walk in the footprints of our elders was still reinforced when, at the turning of a clearing, we saw two steles, one with the memory of the victims of a French regiment, the other with those of a German regiment, placed side to side. The inscriptions which started to grow blurred were written in both languages, and the two steles were flowered with modest bouquets of primroses. At the end of approximately two hours, our young guide, who preceded us by about thirty meters, came back, thrown into panic, at the point to address us in his mother language, struck by the emotion. Corporal Bilger translated immediately : two Austrian customs officers, in company of a local forester, were a little further, at a paths crossing. I believed initially in a treason, before reasoning me. If they wanted to ambush us, they would not be here, to evoke their memories from the previous war, as our guide explained it. We had to went out of our way, trough a rather muddy area of pounds which slowed down our advance, being heavily loaded with our explosives. Corporal Tracol fell even in a hole dug by some animal, staining his Chasseurs Alpins uniform, which he was so proud to wear again, like all of us, since General de Gaulle had indeed insisted that the military actions taken out on the national soil by the members of the Special Forces have to be done in full French uniform, except absolute impossibility.

Paradoxically, the setting up of the explosives was done rather quickly, the derivation of the Largue river (the Rigole) receiving the most part, the remainder being distributed at three other points. I looked at my watch : 3 AM, exactly the intended hour. The return trip was easier, because, without out load, we advanced more quickly. I still had a moment of concern, when a deer bolt from cover in the path a few meters in our front. We came at the Ferme des Bans at 5:30 AM, where the group of Chief Martinez was waiting since a good hour. The Chief explained me quickly that nobody was met, and also that they had absolutely no trouble to follow the intended route, since the unnoticeable marks laid the night before by Corporal Sifert avoided long hesitations at the path intersections. They had chosen to await at the locations selected the previous day before setting their detonators, so that the explosions would occur the next night as close as possible of 3 AM. I complimented him for his initiative, but reproached him the risks taken (Michel Fabre, op. cit).

The night was however not yet finished for the Nemo men. It was still necessary to return at the Ferme de la Petite Taille before the rising of the day, Pierre Martin having left orders in that direction during the night, estimating that the safety would not be ensured at the Ferme des Bans.

(to be continued)