When war comes to town.

New Years Eve.

*31st of December, 1939*

- 174 days before -

Radio: "It was confirmed that the first Indian troops arrived in France on the 27th of December, they will be the first of many different countries to arrive in France to help defend our great nation."

Radio: "Meat rationing has also begun in Britain and will be occurring at some point in France. We ask all to cooperate as it will be fair for all."

Radio: "That has been all the latest updates at this point..."

The radio crackled and went silent.

I've seen a few of the Indian soldiers around Vanves. Not many, but a few.

It's New Year's Eve as well, just another year going by. We don't really celebrate too much in my famille.

We just go sit outside and watch the sky with warm drinks and blankets, wrapped around us like soft teddy bears embracing us in a hug.

The radio crackles again and I let out a small shriek, not expecting it to turn on again.

More updates start to pour out of the radio.

Radio: "Germany has yet again launched more air raids on France and neighbouring counties. Please be aware and stay sheltered when needed."

Radio: "An important... the Marine Nationale.... (French Navy)

"A fishing vessel...name of Adeline, was bombed and sunk.... North Sea off the Noordhinder Lightship. All fisherman..... be careful of enemy attack."

The radio wouldn't stop cutting out and I only caught bits and pieces of it.

Finally, after tuning, turning and hitting the radio after a while, I gave up.

I needed something to keep me occupied so I thought going outside in the freezing snow was my best option.

I grabbed my black leather boots, which were in fact getting a bit small on my feet, a long sleeved shirt, the black jacket I received for Christmas, my frayed pair of gloves and a pair of long grey pants.

I waddled out of my bedroom and down the small stairs that led to the kitchen.

I searched the kitchen for a small knife and made my way to the door.

My gloved fingers gripped the door handle and pushed it open.

The freezing air hit me like a wave. My teeth instantly lost control and started chattering.

With the small knife in hand, I made my way to the tree that took up half the room in our tiny backyard. It was big and tall as it had been growing for many of years.

The trunk was wide and a brownish, creamy colour. The few, but good sized branches that were perfect for climbing, spread out looking less wild and bushy than usual - as all the leaves were gone.

I circled the tree, looking for a branch to grab so I could climb it.

I located one just around the back of the tree and reached out to grab the icy branch.

I held the small knife carefully between my teeth, positioned so I wouldn't cut my mouth on it. I was always a bit fearless.

The gloves barely could get a hold on the branch but I wouldn't quit. I had done it many of times before.

For what felt like the thousandth time, I reached out and gripped it firmly. Heaving myself up, I sat on the nook in the tree so I wouldn't fall.

I steadied myself and grabbed the knife from my mouth.

At this point I was straddling the tree and facing the main trunk.

The tip of the knife carved away into the tree, leaving my own little mark on it for a very long time.

I sat for god knows how long carving away in the cold.

"Everyone has courage inside them, whether or not they decide to show it."

It was a quote I came up with when I was only twelve. I loved it and often thought of it a lot. I know its terrible but I don't care.

"ANNE?! THAT'S DANGEROUS!" My Mère screams.

Dammit.

"It's okay, Mere! I've done it many times before!" I reply back as calmly as possible.

"WITH A KNIFE IN YOUR HAND?! GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Her face is now red from anger. That isn't good.

She is basically screaming bloody murder at me so I make my way down.

I flawlessly land with no injuries and make my way over to where she stands.

"See Mère, I didn't get hurt." I say a little too cockily.

I am then lectured about safely... Blah blah blah... Knives are dangerous, especially on the slippery surfaces. I end up zoning out half way and get sent to my room for the next 3 hours. Fun.

**** Later That Night ****

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" We all shout.

"Wait, what year is it now?" Marc asks cutely.

"It's 1940 son." My Père replies.

"Oh... Great!" Marc perkily answers and goes back to sipping his hot tea.

"This is gonna be a great year! I can feel it already!" I happily chime.

"I'm sure it will be, Anne. I'm sure it will be..."