Night of Flames: A Novel of World War II (3 page)

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$23.95 u.s. | $29.95 can

“Suspenseful, rich in convincingly detailed incidents, and impeccably A Novel of World War II

ight

researched.”

—
Library Journal

What price would you pay

“Well researched and skillfully executed . . . a highly readable work which is to keep your soul?

both informative and imaginative.”

—
The Historical Novels Review

In 1939 the Germans invade Poland, setting

“A taut and twisting thriller with memorable flesh and blood characters of

off a rising storm of violence and destruc-

. . . Jacobson’s clockwork plot draws the reader onto its roller coaster ride tion. For Anna and Jan Kopernik the loss is

[and] clicks along at breakneck speed.”

—James Conroyd Martin,

Douglas W. Jacobson
is an engineer,

unimaginable. She is an assistant professor

award-winning author of
Push Not the River
and
Against a Crimson Sky

business owner, and World War II history

F

at a university in Krakow; he, an offi cer in

enthusiast. Inspired by the war-time exper-

the Polish cavalry. Separated by the war, they

iences of his Belgian relatives and his own

lames

must fi nd their own way in a world where

Polish ancestry, Doug began a five-year

everything they ever knew is gone.

research effort that resulted in his debut

novel,
Night of Flames
. He lives in Elm

Anna’s father, a prominent Polish intellec-

Grove, Wisconsin. Visit him on the Web at

tual, is deported to a death camp, and Anna

www.douglaswjacobson.blogspot.com

must fl ee to Belgium where she joins the

Resistance. Meanwhile, Jan escapes with

the battered remnants of the Polish army to

“
Night of Flames
is a vast, flowing, unstoppable tale of World War II . . . It is Britain. When British intelligence asks him

historical fiction at its best, with interesting, poignant characters we care A No

to return to Poland in an undercover mis-

about . . . This is truly a tale of the resilience and ultimate triumph of love.

sion to contact the Resistance, he seizes the

Highly recommended.”

—Homer Hickam,

chance to search for his missing wife.

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resistance against the overwhelming might

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McBooks Press, Inc.

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ISBN: 978-1-59013-136-7

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Douglas W. Jacobson

52395

Ithaca, New York

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Cover photos courtesy of the Library of Congress.

9 781590 131367

McBooks Press

www.mcbooks.com

Dust jacket and interior design by Panda Musgrove.

Night of Flames

AY

W

NOR

ESTONIA

SWEDEN

LATVIA

NO.

IRELAND

I R I S H

LITHUANIA

F R E E

DENMARK

S TAT E

EAST

G R E AT

PRUSSIA

B R I TA I N

NETH.

G E R M A N Y

P O L A N D

U. S . S . R .

BELGIUM

C ZECHOSLOVAKIA

F R A N C E

A U S T R I A

SWITZERLAND

H U N G A RY

R O M A N I A

YUGOSLA

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ITAL

B U L G A R I A

S PA I N

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ALBANIA

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T U R K E Y

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Night of Flames

A Novel of World War II

Douglas W. Jacobson

McBooks Press, Inc.

www.mcbooks.com

ITHACA, NY

Published by McBooks Press, Inc. 2007

Copyright © 2007 Douglas W. Jacobson

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the publisher. Requests for such permissions should be addressed to: McBooks Press, Inc., ID Booth Building, 520 North Meadow St., Ithaca, NY 14850.

Dust jacket and book design by Panda Musgrove.

Cover Photo: Night view of part of Santa Fe R.R. yard, Kansas City, Kansas, 1943, by Jack Delano, courtesy of American Memory, The Library of Congress.

The hardcover edition of this book was cataloged by the Library of Congress as: Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Jacobson, Douglas W., 1945-

Night of fl ames : a novel of World War II / by Douglas W. Jacobson.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-1-59013-136-7 (hardcover : alk. paper)

1. World War, 1939-1945—Fiction. 2. Poland—History—Occupation, 1939-1945—

Fiction. I. Title.

PS3610.A35675N54 2007

813’.6—dc22

2007014386

Visit the McBooks Press website at www.mcbooks.com.

Printed in the United States of America

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Margot, Allison, Christine,

Ainsley, Ella, Cully and Jessica

The most powerful weapon on earth

is the human soul on fi re.

Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch

L AT V I A

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L I T H U A N I A

E A S T

P R U S S I A

S

Poznan Kutno

Warsaw

P

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D

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Lublin

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Krakow

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AKIA

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CZECHOSLOV

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HUNGAR

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German Invasion—September 1, 1939

Russian Invasion—September 17, 1939

PART ONE

Poland

1939

Chapter 1

Anna Kopernik slept on this hot, muggy night, but it was a restless sleep troubled by strange dreams. The sheets were clammy and her thin cotton nightgown clung to her back. A paltry breeze drifted in through the open window with little effect. The still, humid air on this September morning hung over Warsaw like a massive wet blanket.

It was fi ve o’clock and Anna drifted back and forth between consciousness and sleep, the dream fl itting in and out of her mind like an annoying gnat. The telephone rang. Then it stopped. She wanted to answer it but couldn’t fi nd it. It rang again, but it wasn’t a telephone; it was something else . . . a bell, perhaps, or a horn. Anna kicked at the sticky, twisted sheet and rolled onto her back. She was almost awake but still just below the surface. The noise returned, louder now, a harsh clanging boring into her head. She kicked the sheet completely off, struggling to understand. What was it? A horn . . . or . . . a siren.

Anna’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. The shrill sound blasted into her brain, penetrating through the fog of sleep like an icy wind. She blinked and looked around the dark room, trying to focus on shadowy images as the sound wailed on and on.

She ran to the window. It was still dark but the night sky held a hint of gray. An early morning mist shrouded the streetlamps, casting a gloomy, almost spooky glow along the deserted sidewalk below. The grating noise of the air-raid siren raised the hair on the back of her neck and suddenly she was shivering. Anna crossed her arms over her chest and stared into the dull, char-coal sky. Then she heard another sound.

It came from the west: a deep angry drone like a swarm of giant bees, 12

Douglas W. Jacobson

growing louder by the second. Anna tried to move but her feet didn’t respond.

Immobilized, riveted in place, she stared out the open window as the pounding vibration of a hundred propellers enveloped her. The thunderous roar of the bombers drowned out the air-raid sirens, and the entire building seemed to sway in rhythm with the oscillations.

Anna snapped out of the spell and instinctively reached out to pull the window closed. A fl ash of light blinded her, and an eardrum-shattering blast threw her backward amid a shower of glass and falling plaster. She fell heavily against a small wooden night table and collapsed on the fl oor.

Another blast rocked the building. Frantic and disoriented, a searing pain in her head and a million lights dancing in her eyes, Anna tried to crawl under the bed, oblivious to the shards of glass that sliced through her hands and knees.

Jarring detonations punctuated the deafening thunder of the airplanes.

Then, as abruptly as it started, it was over, the pulsating thump of propellers receding into the distance. Anna lay still, her head under the bed. Seconds passed, then a minute, and the only sound she heard through the ringing in her ears was the continued wailing of the air-raid sirens. She crawled backward and tried to stand, but her legs gave out. She fell against the bed and back onto the fl oor, this time wincing in pain from the glass and chunks of plaster that littered the fl oor. Holding the edge of the bed, she struggled to her feet and staggered across the room.

Through the ringing and the sirens Anna heard another sound: someone screaming in the hall. She lurched through the doorway and tripped over Irene, who was crawling on her hands and knees, covered with plaster dust.

Anna reached down and helped her friend to her feet.

Irene stared at her with blank eyes then pushed past her. “Justyn!” she screamed. “Oh my God, Justyn!”

They stumbled down the dark hallway to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. The door was split down the middle, hanging from the top hinge. Anna pushed it open, and they stepped into the dust-fi lled room.