Prompt and Circumstance

A Star Shines Brightly

'chill' March 4, 2016

As the shadow, impossibly elongated by the early morning sun until it looked as if Don Quixote rode again, fell across the bench, Harry's heart sank. A cold chill seized his spine, locking it temporarily into its already ridiculously bent position and an ominous pounding filled his ears.

He'd always known of the risk he took every time he slipped out into the night for the clandestine meetings. He had no doubt about the consequences, and though he feared them, and had heard the unimaginable tales of torture of those caught, he had been prepared to risk all for his country.

The worst choice had been facing what the repercussions could – and most probably would – be on his dear wife and small son. His resolve had been seriously weakened as he considered their lives. But Wanda had been single-minded in her determination to support and uphold anything he did to oppose their enemy.

As she pointed out, "What kind of life could we possibly have under them, Harry?" and as she held their small son tightly to her, she looked first at him, and then at Harry, and continued, "... and him, Harry? Do you want him to be anybody's slave? NO! Better we all die than be under their heels."

Harry was not a nervy type of chap. Never had been, until that terrible night when the Germans moved in – overnight – and took over his beloved Denmark. Until he decided to join the Resistance and fight – stealthily maybe... but fight, nonetheless. These days he was living on his nerves, trying not to see danger around every corner, spies behind every door, disaster looming constantly.

"Good morning, worthy citizen." Harry's heart seemed to start beating again. There was none of the sarcasm he would have expected from one of the uniformed 'victors'. This was a beautifully smooth and modulated voice, and the tone was full of warmth and friendship. As his glance slid sideways and up the horse's front legs standing tall and strong right next to him, nothing could have prepared him for who the rider was, and accepting what his eyes could not deny.

The King of Denmark? No... it couldn't be? Could it? King Christian X, riding through Copenhagen's Park, by himself on this crisp early Autumn morning? The King was greeting him personally. Harry H. Nobody... a most ordinary painter of park benches these days. And the King was lifting his cap in salute and wishing him well before turning the horse and continuing on his way. Harry's heart rose to the heights again and his face flushed with pride as he saw his King was defiantly wearing the yellow Star of David on his arm.

Only the day before, the German hierarchy had issued the decree that every Jew 'would be issued with a yellow Star of David and must immediately and forthwith wear said cloth star stitched to clothing, both back and front'. The penalty for not obeying would be severe punishment, even death – and this had been proven in Poland where the largest Jewish ghettoes already existed.

Sometimes courage emerges in unexpected quarters, as in the case of King Christian X of Denmark. He was not a Jew, but wore the Star of David himself until this decree and its threat to his people was removed. It was said that Hitler held some strange respect for the Danish King – bolstered no doubt by this ruler's unbending opposition – and this time, at least, ensuring the Germans were never able to impose this Draconian regulation in Denmark.

Harry stared in awe as a German soldier on guard duty nearby snapped to attention and saluted the King, whose eyes imperiously swept past him as though he didn't exist.