Always in his nightmares he helped Ulrike and the two young ones down into the earthen tomb, giving her last-minute instructions of whom to contact, of how to place the pole tightly under the board so it would not sag or bounce if stepped upon. Then he would lay the heavy board down over them, carefully replacing the thickly cut square of sod on top of it, and would run away from the cave himself, as a decoy, waiting for the moment when an explosion of gunfire awakened him. Every dream ended the same.

But here he was, crouched in the blackness with them, not running for some nightmarish woods that ever receded farther into the distance, but still alive, listening, afraid each second that he would feel the earth tremble with a booted foot crashing down on the board above them, followed by yelling. Then the loose sod would be discovered and torn back, the board removed, and suddenly lights and rifles would be sticking in their faces, angry shouts, and they would be dragged out of the hole and to some pit of murder.

He could hardly believe his plan had worked! Yet they were alive and undiscovered.

The dimensions of Jakob’s little cave would not appear sufficient to hide an entire family. He had intended to enlarge it further, even to supply it with emergency water and a few other helpful articles. But the moment of need arrived sooner than expected. Now they were crammed tightly into a space no more than a meter deep and probably not eighty centimeters square.

He rejoiced that he had had time to get it this big!

Jakob strained his ears to hear. All he could make out were the breathing sounds of his terrified wife and son. His daughter, calmer now, did not realize enough to be scared. Now that she was aware of her mother’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she felt safe again.

Jakob knew storm troopers still ran about, for he felt the earth tremble slightly from nearby footfalls. Occasional muffled shouts penetrated the cramped hiding place.

Gradually it warmed from the heat of their bodies. How long, he wondered, could they stay alive down here without suffocating? Had he unknowingly dug his family’s tomb? Might they huddle here in one another’s arms until they were dead?

It would still be better than dying by gas or bullets at the hands of the Nazis.

Suddenly a terrible jolt interrupted his thoughts. Someone above had crashed down exactly upon the middle of the board he had carefully let down after himself, the sod on top of it. The jar of the heavy footfall had hit squarely in the center, where he held a thick pole for support. Would it be enough to conceal that emptiness was beneath the ground?

Anxiously he awaited further sound.