Two bodies in one soul

In the bunker located at the top of the cliff, loving couples say that as the threshold of dusk strips her way, it feel like the luminous presence of Klaus closes access to the room of concrete, a black rectangle filled with current and prying eyes.

When allocated to Klaus, soldier, Normandy, in the winter of 43, was twenty and very scared. I stayed, along with some friends, in a family house requisitioned by the German army. Alice, owner of the house and of the same age as Klaus, had married a few months ago with a man, a member of the resistance, who was just taken prisoner by the enemy. Alice had discovered, during their wedding night, a hidden facet of her husband, a violent and dominating curse from the depths of his being. A being uncontrollable, he had managed to erase from the depths of his soul the love felt in one day.

Alice and Klaus, introverted, sweet-tempered, were attracted immediately. By the summer they discovered their common passion for butterflies in the garden of Alice, and contemplation of the sea and clouds from the peaks covered in fog from the bunker where Klaus was anchored. With eyes that gave her a kiss and feelings that spoke quietly, touching without touch, they fell in love. His desire planed well above the world's denials and the talk of the town, on the other hand, little or no care. With an infinite fear of separating their bodies joined in one soul, knowing that it could have atrocious consequences to not care, they just wanted to experience true love and feeling guilty as two children in love.

The day to face the world was caught by surprise, even though they knew this was coming. In an alley end they hid but at the finale of the day by sunset, Klaus died of a shot and Alice's hair was shaved in the town square, which stripped and broke her dignity, treating her like a motherless whore.

Her husband, after missing her at home because he put her away for a few months, again accepted her back in the marital home. He never forgave her treason; she was made to pay night after night, day after day, until his death on the night of 1965, when a heart attack took him. Alice, abused by her own husband, afraid to go out into the world, ended her life, leaving a note that said:

"Here ended the life of a woman stripped of her true love, judged by humanity, abused by her owner and gagged for his freedom.”

I remember walking, always alone, curled up on the heather-covered moors, or sitting on top of the bunker contemplating the horizon. Of the love of Alice and Klaus was born a child, six months after the death of his father. His paternal grandparents raised him. The secret was public when Alice's son appeared at the funeral of his mother.

This summer, he and his descendants, summer in the home of Alice. A great-grandson of Klaus and Alice, was often seen soaring through the bunker, a camera of photos in tears, looking eagerly, to immortalize the beauty of the moment.