Grace's Ground War: Virtues and Valor Series, #5

GRACE'S GROUND WAR, A NOVELLA

Virtues and Valor Series, Part 5

a Novella by

Published by

Olivia Kimbrell Press™

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

Grace's Ground War, Virtues and Valor series part 5

First edition. Copyright © 2015 by Hallee Bridgeman. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording – without express written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or broadcasted critical articles and reviews. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, locales or to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

PUBLISHED BY: Olivia Kimbrell Press™*, P.O. Box 4393, Winchester, KY 40392-4393

The Olivia Kimbrell Press™ colophon and open book logo are trademarks of Olivia Kimbrell Press™.

*Olivia Kimbrell Press™ is a publisher offering true to life, meaningful fiction from a Christian worldview intended to uplift the heart and engage the mind.

Some scripture quotations courtesy of the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

Some scripture quotations courtesy of the New King James Version of the Holy Bible, Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas-Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Original Cover Art and Graphics by Debi Warford (www.debiwarford.com)

Colorized derivative image based on a public domain photograph of Marina Ginesta used on the cover used in accordance with fair use. All other images from the public domain and conform to fair use.

Library Cataloging Data

U. S. Library of Congress Control Number: 2014953681

Bridgeman, Hallee (Hallee A. Bridgeman) 1972-

Grace's Ground War, Virtues and Valor series Part 5 / Hallee Bridgeman

100 p. 23cm x 15cm (9in x 6 in.)

Summary: Ruth Grace Aubertin carries out asymmetric warfare in Occupied France.

ISBN: 978-1-939603-49-4 (ebook)

1. Christian fiction 2. World War II 3. war stories 4. spies 5. historical fiction 6. espionage

PS3568.B7534 T494 2015

[Fic.] 813.6 (DDC 23)

Dedication

For those women who fought right beside the men…

THIS series is dedicated to the amazing women who have worked, planned, strategized, served, led, and fought alongside men throughout human history. This novella is specifically dedicated to Nancy Grace Wake. To read more about her real story, read the Inspired by Real Events section at the end of Grace’s story.

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace,

that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 4:16 (NKJV)

Prologue

GRACE –the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings. The love and mercy given to us by God because God desires us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it.

Hebron, British Palestine: 1929

RUTH Aubertin stood next to her father as he surveyed the remains of their house of worship. The walls still stood, but the burned roof left the interior exposed to sky and allowed the sun to shine down on the burned shell. Ruth bitterly stared at it. The fires had been set by the Arabs who had attacked four days ago. Ruth and her family had hidden in the police station until the attacks ended.

Her uncle Yoseph, looking all around, put a hand on her father’s shoulder. It is not safe. We must leave.

My family and I will not be staying in Jerusalem with you, Andre said to his wife’s brother. We will go back to France.

Yoseph raised an eyebrow. I thought you feared the return of the Germans.

They will return. You and I both know it’s unstoppable. But I can train my children with more freedom in the wilderness of France than I can here, where the Arabs would stoop to such atrocities as this.

But –

Andre put his hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. I know the children are all you have left of your sister. But, this world is groaning, and war is coming. My children need to be ready. Their mother will not have died in vain shielding them from the Germans.

Ruth had heard stories of her mother hiding her and her brothers in the root cellar while German soldiers invaded their home, but at one, she’d been too young to remember. Matthew would not speak of it and John often would cry very angry, very silent tears when he thought of it.

Your children are Jewish. That will not be as widely accepted in Europe as it was ten years ago.

Andre nodded. "No more than also being Christ followers is accepted here. We are never going to be accepted, my children and I. But Yah has had us here until now, and He would have me prepare them for what He would have them to do there."

I fear that you won’t find what you’re looking for there, Yoseph said. Rebekah is not in France. You won’t find her there.

Andre slowly shook his head. My brother, I am seeking nothing. I am simply following right now.

Yoseph called for Ruth’s brothers and cousins and, carefully stepping over rubble and debris, the group departed. Ruth thought of the days spent hiding in the police station, seeing the flames outside the windows, and hearing the fighting in the streets. She couldn’t completely comprehend what she’d experienced.

Yoseph’s wife, Breine, met them outside, carrying baby Doran in her arms. Yoseph, she said, I just talked to Erela. They found Aharan. He’s dead.

Ruth gasped as her uncle and father wailed in grief. Her mother’s youngest brother had died in the attack by the Arabs. So many in their little village had been slaughtered. She felt anger unlike anything she had ever felt before well up in her chest.

Hot tears stung her eyes as the bright sun beat down on her black hair. The attack had come swiftly, and for three days, men, women, and children were killed at the hands of the jihadists. Why? Because they were Jewish, and since as far back as the Caliphate of the seventh century, the two groups had hated each other.

Of course, Ruth had nothing to do with that history. Nor did her uncle. He just made the creamiest goat’s milk cheese that anyone had ever tasted. His little shop was renowned throughout British Palestine. And now he was dead, leaving behind his wife and six children. What would they do now?

All the Jews in her village had to leave. The British authorities had arrived to remove the surviving Jews from their homes. They would all go to Jerusalem.

Ruth wanted to stay. She wanted to hide and train and fight back. The indignation rose up in her chest until she thought it would smother her, until she felt like she couldn’t take another breath. A buzz sounded in her ears and the sun grew brighter until the world had a white haze to it. Her chest moved rapidly as she fought to breathe.

Her father’s strong hand on her shoulder steadied her, quieted the buzzing, loosened the tightness in her chest. He looked down at her, his one good brown eye mirroring her emotions. Wait, he gently urged, your time is not now. Patience.

A woman in a British military uniform approached, looking starched and pressed in her wool despite the pressing heat of the day. Ruth thought she was absolutely beautiful with her blonde hair and pale skin.

Colonel Aubertin? the woman inquired, looking directly at Ruth’s father then glancing at his three children.

Charlie? Is that you? her father asked, disbelieving.

The woman nodded. Sir!

Her father frowned. No need for all that. How’s your father, then? Still gadding about?

The woman shook her head. Dead, I’m afraid.

Andre’s frown deepened. That’s rather sudden. I recently shared correspondence with him.

Quite. Though I’m told he felt no pain. I take it this is your brood?

At Andre’s nod, she knelt and held out her hand. Hello. I am Captain Charlene Radden. I’ve been sent here to assist you and your family in relocating. The children each shook her hand in turn. When she held her right hand out toward her father, Andre shifted his body and took her right hand with his good left hand. His bum right arm hung loosely at his side.

I fear you’ve arrived a bit late, Captain. As you can see, I have no need of you. I have my wife’s entire family to look after.

"Yes, sir. We’ve accounted for that.