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But a few seconds later I realized that the Germans were shooting over our heads, at the other side of the valley, while someone from the opposite end was shooting at us.  As I reconstructed the event from information received only a few days later, the Maquis had crossed the valley above Lasalle and had taken up positions on the slope opposite Cornelly.  In the fading light they had seen, from afar, figures crouched against the retaining wall of the road and surmised that these were German soldiers.  Their bullets ricocheting from the wall and others driving into the meadow at our feet were what I had taken for explosions.  The Germans had suddenly become our defenders.

With shots ringing all around us, I suddenly heard Jean cry out, "I am hit, I can't move, get me out of here."

While the others were moving on their hands and knees toward the house and apparent safety, Jeanne suddenly too told me that she had been wounded.  Blood was dripping down from her blouse.  There was a small hole on her right side, but no exit wound.  Was she shot in the lung?  I asked her to take a deep breath; she told me that it did not hurt.  There was a good possibility that the wound was superficial.  But for Jean, whose left leg seemed paralyzed, what could we do?

Suddenly, some dark-clad figures, guns at the ready, moved from left to right in front of us, I immediately recognized the French "Miliciens" who had not been here before.  They had just come up as reinforcements and were responding to the attack.

I called out to them in French, "There is a wounded man here.  Could you help?"
 They passed without a word.  The next man who came running toward us was a German soldier.  I called to him for help, thinking that he might take Jean by the other arm and get him to safety, Instead he ran, without another word, to the front of the house, where a wheelbarrow was standing.  It had apparently been used earlier to transport the German wounded.  Without one word he loaded Jean into it and wheeled him to the house.  There Aimé took Jean under the arms, while the German soldier carried his legs, and brought him to the guest room and put him on one of the beds.  Staying behind I made sure that everyone of our group had made it safely to the house in all the confusion.  Jean and Jeanne seemed to be the only wounded among us.  Everyone was calm.  The house offered security while the battle continued for a few more minutes.  Then, as darkness fell, the guns became silent.  We heard engines rev up as the trucks departed.  Then silence fell.  We were finally alone.

On the other side of the road, flames and sparks were shooting out of Cornelly, illuminating the road and the driveway.  The Germans had set fire to the castle.  The old beams crackled in the flames and then the roof collapsed with a roar.  Finally, silence set in for good.