Anthony Doerr

All the Light We Cannot See


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       Sea of Flames

       The Arrest of Etienne LeBlanc

       7 August 1944

       Leaflets

       Part Ten: 12 August 1944

       Entombed

       Fort National

       Captain Nemo’s Last Words

       Visitor

       Final Sentence

       Music #1

       Music #2

       Music #3

       Out

       Wardrobe

       Comrades

       The Simultaneity of Instants

       Are You There?

       Second Can

       Birds of America

       Cease-fire

       Chocolate

       Light

       Part Eleven: 1945

       Berlin

       Paris

       Part Twelve: 1974

       Volkheimer

       Jutta

       Duffel

       Saint-Malo

       Laboratory

       Visitor

       Paper Airplane

       The Key

       Sea of Flames

       Frederick

       Part Thirteen: 2014

       Acknowledgments

       About Grace

       Also by Anthony Doerr

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

       Zero

Logo Missing 7 August 1944

       Leaflets

      At dusk they pour from the sky. They blow across the ramparts, turn cartwheels over rooftops, flutter into the ravines between houses. Entire streets swirl with them, flashing white against the cobbles. Urgent message to the inhabitants of this town, they say. Depart immediately to open country.

      The tide climbs. The moon hangs small and yellow and gibbous. On the rooftops of beachfront hotels to the east, and in the gardens behind them, a half-dozen American artillery units drop incendiary rounds into the mouths of mortars.

       Bombers

      They cross the Channel at midnight. There are twelve and they are named for songs: Stardust and Stormy Weather and In the Mood and Pistol-Packin’ Mama. The sea glides along far below, spattered with the countless chevrons of whitecaps. Soon enough, the navigators can discern the low moonlit lumps of islands ranged along the horizon.

      France.

      Intercoms crackle. Deliberately, almost lazily, the bombers shed altitude. Threads of red light ascend from anti-air emplacements up and down the coast. Dark, ruined ships appear, scuttled or destroyed, one with its bow shorn away, a second flickering as it burns. On an outermost island, panicked sheep run zigzagging between rocks.

      Inside each airplane, a bombardier peers through an aiming window and counts to twenty. Four five six seven. To the bombardiers, the walled city on its granite headland, drawing ever closer, looks like an unholy tooth, something black and dangerous, a final abscess to be lanced away.

       The Girl