Hope at Dunkirk

7.

"N-Ne me tirez pas s'il vous plaît", the French words fell from the boy's lips, surprising them all collectively. He looked at each face in the room with the same terrified expression, more afraid of Harry than anything. Olivia's lips parted at his words, realising that he wasn't a German spy but a French stowaway. He obviously wanted to escape this retched place just like the British did.

"So he's a frog!", Harry said through gritted teeth, the riffle not lowering for a second. "Leaving your country behind to come live off of ours. What a coward".

"He's just scared Harry", Olivia defended the boy, still not moving from her place in front of the gun in Harry's hands. She knew he wouldn't dare shoot her, and she wanted to save this French boy's life. Her semi-dry blue medical dress felt heavy on her shoulders, feeling like Harry was dragging her sanity down with his.

"We should send him up anyway, he shouldn't be here!", cried a soldier again, sticking with the idea of sending up the least valuable person.

"Please just calm down! The bullets have stopped anyw-", Olivia was cut off from loud footsteps that sounded from above. The soldiers went quiet as they looked up, the footsteps walking aimlessly on the deck of the sail boat they were still under. The French boy was long forgotten as they all looked at each other frantically, knowing that they'd be shot immediately if they were seen hiding away from the rest of the British troops.

The boys who had riffles grabbed them and aimed them towards the opening in the roof from where they entered the room. Harry's sanity kicked in after his moment of loss and looked at Olivia in front of him, who now had her back turned to face the entrance that everyone else was staring at in anticipation to see the owner of the footsteps. Harry reached out and grabbed a hold of her bicep, pulling her back towards him and behind his tall figure, leaving her protected behind the army soldiers who had guns in their hands.

The closest boy to the entrance was Tommy, who was pushed forward by one of the other boys to have the role of grabbing the potential killer when he appears. Tommy gulped as he had no gun on him, being the very few who'd lost them when the two ship wrecks happened. The footsteps came closer and closer towards the entrance, until a figure finally came into view. Tommy jutted out his arm and grabbed a hold of the Man-like figure, pulling him from the upper deck and on to the floor of the lower deck. The soldiers surrounded him and pointed their riffles, leaving the man helpless.

Olivia peeked over the boys' shoulders to see not a soldier, but a man around the age of 50 looking almost lifeless from fear. He held his hands up innocently, obviously not expecting a bunch of British soldiers and a Nurse to be hiding in the lower deck of a sailing boat. He had on normal looking industrial worker clothes, confusing the soldiers and Olivia further.

"Who are you? Why are you here?", demanded one of the more confident soldiers, ready to shoot the man if he said one German word.

"H-Here to see if the boat works", he quickly answered, shaking from the close barrels of their guns. "Civilian boats are being sent out to take you guys home. Asked for by the British Army Force".

"Take us home?...", repeated one of the soldiers, making all the boys back off from the poor man. He sat up and shuffled back a little bit. Harry decided to take charge since no one else would say anything at this point.

"If you can get the boat working and the tide comes in, can you take us back out to sea?", Harry asked seriously, resulting in the man nodding vigorously in agreement.

The boys sighed in a sort of relief, and sat down again all around the lower deck room again. The man sat with them, waiting patiently for his sign to get back on deck and get the boat going out to sea. The soldiers collectively decided to chain up the French boy, who had hoped to stow away with them. Olivia and Tommy didn't like the idea at all, but all the other boys joined in on it and used the spare rope to tie him down so he couldn't pick up a riffle and shoot them all.

Olivia sat in between Harry and Tommy, not liking how the past few hours have turned out. These were desperate times, and it made everyone tense and anxious. It's even turning people into things that they're not, like how Harry went rogue for a while and nearly shot the scared to death French boy. Olivia was almost scared to sit next to him, but the look he gave her after a while made her almost melt.

His green eyes looked lost and desperate, knowing that his past actions weren't necessary. He knew that just because he was afraid didn't give him the right to act like a total dick to everyone else. Harry regretted it deeply, and didn't wish to see the look on Olivia's face again when he said he'd rather send the French boy to his death rather than himself. His face begged for forgiveness from Olivia, to which she gave once Harry's arm hooked through her own and intertwined his hand with her's. His big, sweaty hand gripped her small one so tightly that she found it impossible not to forgive him.

"We're going home yeah?", Harry whispered only to her, needing some sort of reassurance after his outburst.

"Yes..... we are".

And the two waited.

*Ne me tirez pas s'il vous plaît - Please don't shoot me.