Nordsee was angry that day. It was August but her waters were not calm. They flashed steel grey. Mutti, Agatha, Ernst, Frau Bleich, Sarah and Hans stared at the horizon. Barely perceptible, they saw the British ships, lined up, straight and saluting. “How many are there?” asked Frau Bleich. “At least thirty,” said Sarah, her hand to her brow, squinting.
“My God. How will we get the fishing boats to water? Will they sink them?”
“They are laying mines now,” said Hans. “Can you see they are lowering explosives, naval mines? About three miles out.”
“My God,” said Mutti.
“They aim to starve us,” said Sarah. “Britain has declared food contraband and the North Sea a military area. All ships must submit to British inspection before coming to our port. They will seize whatever food they find.”
“Most of Germany’s food is imported,” said Ernst. “Civilians will starve.”
Both Mutti and Frau Bleich gasped. “We are ordinary people. Mining our seas. Stealing food meant for German mouths. Tormenting our fisherman. The Tommies go too far. The world will not stand for their brutal behavior. The world will stand with us. They will not let German children starve.”
And, the sun glinted off the ships onto the sea. And, Nordsee felt the dead children’s pain.