A Souvenirs excerpt

It appeared that the entire population of Kortenberg was moving out. All along Kiewitstraat, families were out on the road, and many of them were trying to take their worldly possessions with them. Eugene Schuermans had cautioned Jacques and René against trying to carry too much, and they stood outside the brewery wearing backpacks and not knowing what to say.

‘When you get to Ypres, keep an eye out for Mrs Peeters,’ Eugene suggested. ‘You remember her. She lived around the corner, opposite the church. I heard that Mr Peeters passed away, but as far as I know, she still lives with her parents in Ypres. Mr Wijngaert, who lived next door to her, once told me they had a small guesthouse called Demi Lune. Perhaps you can find it. Demi Lune, got it?’

There didn’t seem to be words to express their feelings, knowing it might be the last time they experienced all the things around them and the people they loved. Amid tears, they said their final goodbyes and began to walk, headed for the unknown.

‘Wait, Jacques, wait!’ Jacques turned back to see his mother running after him. ‘There is one other thing you must have,’ she said, wheezing and trying desperately to catch her breath.

She pulled something from the pocket of her apron and held it in her closed fist. With her left hand, she took Jacques’ hand and pressed her hand over his palm, then closed his fingers over the object she’d given him.

‘Hold onto this, son. It will keep you safe,’ she said quietly.

He opened his hand. It was a chain, of the kind usually used for necklaces, but attached to it was a small crucifix with a tiny stone in the middle that he thought was probably a diamond, and with it, a Saint Christopher medal.’

‘Thank you, Mama,’ he murmured gently. ‘I’ll keep it with me until I come home.’