The Door Is Open

No signs, no warning; we suddenly come to a barrier, a whole tree laid across the road, guarded by two German soldiers. We stop: my father, David, gets out of the car and walks over to the somber, green-helmeted soldiers guarding the tree barrier, blocking access to the other side of the road. David asks in French how the cars can cross the road, gesturing to the tree barrier. The soldiers gesture back and speak to David in German, asking for his papers. David keeps showing them the map, acting as if he does not understand German, pointing to the road on the other side of the barrier. The soldiers gesture back; they yell in German that the road cannot be crossed, “Verboten.”