The Home Front: Growing Up During World War II, Chapter 4, "Romulus & Remus Join The Army"

Mark Tabor, the state cop, was guzzling a soda in our store, his pistol butt twinkling in the soft afternoon sun. He watched my father working on ration coupons then said absentmindedly, “ So there were two of them got away. One speaks no English, the other one named Kurt could almost pass for a Down East Yankee.”

I stopped sweeping to listen in. Dad looked up from his coupon box. “They were from a prisoner of war camp near Princeton. Right”

“Yeah, they had a little ruckus up there once. The Germans didn’t want to burn coal, not with all that wood they were cuttin’ for other folks. Those birds weren’t a part of that but this Kurt’s a real smoothie. He even lived in Maine once.”

“They got to be headin’ south,” my father said.

The trooper ran his fingers through a shock of hair and gave his cap a little tilt when he put it back on. “Yep. Boston, New York. Who knows? Probably goin’ somewhere where it’s crowded, but we’ll get ‘em.”

“What did this Kurt look like?” I asked.

“Like a Nazi recruiting poster; tall, blond. He was a Luftwaffe pilot and those guys ain’t no dummies. If you run into him at the movies, let me know. Don’t be no John Wayne.” He laughed, saluted my father and went out the door with a slight swagger.

The words Luftwaffe, Nazi, and prisoner of war went buzzing through my brain; On the wall where Dad had his war maps was a map of Maine. I looked for Princeton. “Princeton is near Canada. Why wouldn’ they go there?”

“Too obvious. They’d be watching the borders like a hawk. And it’s a small town. They’d be too conspicuous.” Dad shoved the coupon box under the counter.

I ran a finger from Princeton to Portland and down to where Boston would be. If they hopped a train they might make come right through our town. I remembered the young German hermit who came out of the woods in Greenville to fight for his country. He wanted to know how to get back to Germany and was arrested. He’d spend the war years in some prison.

It’s all we talked about when I ran into Tommy Lemke or Jody or Freddy Dube. Freddy had a model of a Stuka. Sometimes we’d play at being Kurt chasing a B-29 until Kurt was shot down by a scrappy tail gunner. I hurled the Stuka into a rose bush and made a crackling sound as Kurt went down in flames. Tom said he heard the other Nazi was a cook. I’d never thought of it but wars needed cooks and barbers and storekeepers just like my dad. Jody said someone told him Kurt wasn’t too healthy and he would probably turn up dead somewhere. Jody grabbed his throat and pretended to choke to death.

I wasn’t really worried about Kurt showing up at the movies but I did worry about old Mrs. Tibbles. She lived alone near the railroad tracks, the perfect place to jump off a train and raid her home for food and money. But, I knew, Kurt wouldn’t get far with her two bulldog watchdogs, Romulus and Remus. They were mean and vicious and could tear a man to pieces. I wondered if Mrs. Tibbles knew about the escaped prisoners.

On my way home from Tom's house I decided to drop by her place and warn her. The dooryard was quiet. A train rattled by as I waited for the dogs to start barking. I tossed a rock at the shed where her “boys” lived. Not a sound. Knocking on her door, I strained to hear her feeble voice. Nothing. It seemed the dogs and Mrs.. Tibbles were not home.

My folks didn’t know Mrs. Tibbles was missing. Her friends thought she might have gone to visit her sister. But we doubted she would have taken those dogs anywhere. I wondered if a train might have gotten them. my mother said she would be back in a day or so but I wondered.

A few days later I went to check on her. it was dark and quiet. Through the trees, I saw a light on. Good. She was home and safe. I expected the dogs to start yapping but not a sound came from the shed. Boldly, I walked up to the front door and knocked. Inside, I heard Mrs. Tibbles shuffle to the door. “Oh, the grocery boy, but I didn’t order any groceries.”

“I know,” I said, “but I wondered if you knew about the escaped prisoners of war?”

“I know all about it. Isn’t it awful?” She grinned and closed the door behind me. “I’m safe. I have my two protectors.”

“Romulus and Remus?”

She smiled. " No. You see Romulus and Remus have joined the army. The sergeant at the base said he’d never seen such handsome specimens. We all have to give up something in war time.” She pointed to a framed letter on the wall thanking her for her “boys.”

“But now you’re alone!” I said.

“Oh, no, come and meet my new friends.” She led me outside into the cool night air.

From behind her house I saw a shadowy figure move away from the dim porch light. She spoke to the shed. “ Now,boys, you are not to be alarmed. That’s probably poor old Beefsteak Benson come sneaking around to see if I’ve got any meat in the fridge. It’s sad but but meat rationing is driving him crazy.”

She released a latch on the shed. I heard a commotion of flapping wings and honking. “Geese!” You’ve got geese!”

“Got them from my sister in Lincoln. Geese are really better than dogs. Come in and I’ll tell you the story of how they saved Rome.”

I didn’t want to but I was trapped. Tea and cookies. While the geese chased Beefsteak Benson and Romulus and Remus stood guard at some military post and two Nazi prisoners swatted mosquitoes in a boxcar heading south, I learned how the sacred geese from the temple of Juno woke up the consul and saved Rome from the Gauls way back in 390 B.C..