Fire and Steel, Volume 6

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Ah.”

  “Yes. That’s what I thought, too. Now comes the lecture. But instead, he started talking about him and Mama. They met in an army hospital. Papa had been wounded badly in the war and thought he was going to be blinded forever. Mama was his nurse. On the midnight shift she would come and sit by his bed and read to him. She was off duty the day when he had his bandages removed and learned that he could see, but Mama came to the hospital to be there.” Lisa laughed softly. “There was this beautiful blonde nurse there as well, and Mama said that Papa only had eyes for her at first. But the moment he heard Mama speak and recognized her voice, he forgot about the other nurse. It was months after that before he kissed Mama for the first time.”

  She turned to face him more squarely. “And then he said something totally unexpected. And when he was through, he asked me if I would talk with you about it.” She shrugged. “And so here we are.”

  Benji started to respond to that but then changed his mind. “All right. I’m listening.”

  She wasn’t looking at him now but staring at her hands, trying to remember her father’s exact words. “First, he talked about our friendship. How unique it is. And how strange that we’ve stayed in touch all these years, considering how young we were—I was—when we first met.”

  “I completely agree with that.”

  “But he said that though it is a unique friendship, it is somewhat artificial.”

  Benji frowned. “That’s an odd way to put it.”

  “That was what I thought too. At first what he said made me angry, but when he explained what he meant by artificial, I had to agree that he had a point. He said that deep friendships develop as two people interact with each other personally, face-to-face, over an extended period of time. And we haven’t done that. Ours has been a long-distance, correspondence friendship. He quickly added that there’s nothing wrong with that, but that it is somewhat artificial because it lacks the give and take of a normal relationship.”

  When Benji frowned again, she rushed on. “As I’ve thought about it, I think I see what he means. For example, you’ve never seen how grumpy I am before I’ve had breakfast.”

  He hooted. “Really?”

  “And I’m really stubborn. Like a mule, Papa says. Oh, and then there’s my temper. Papa says if I were a stick of dynamite, my fuse would be no more than half an inch long. You say something wrong, and boom! I blow up in your face.”

  Benji had started to laugh, but it quickly died in him. The impact of her father’s words started to sink in. “I. . . .” He nodded. “I think I see his point.”

  She poked him hard with her elbow. “About now it would be good if you shared all of your faults and foibles with me.”

  “Oh, I have plenty of those, Lisa,” Benji said softly. “But his point is a significant insight about our friendship.”

  “I agree, and I told him as much. Then, to my surprise, he said that was why it was so good that you are here, that finally we are interacting face-to-face. He said that it meant a lot that you had come all this way to see me, in spite of the hard times you have been through.”

  That again took him aback. “He said all that?”

  “I’m serious, Benji. He really likes you.”

  “That’s great. I am very happy. I love your family, Lisa. They feel like my own in so many ways. And that is a huge compliment.”

  “But he wanted me to talk about something else with you too.”

  “Which was?”

  “Kissing.”

  “Oh. That again.”

  Lisa laughed at his expression. “That’s what I thought too. But what he said and how he said it caught me totally by surprise. I lay awake a long time thinking about it after he left.” She hesitated, then went on. “He said that the physical aspects in the relationship between a boy and a girl—like holding hands, hugging, kissing, etc.—are a wonderful thing. Part of nature’s design. That was the phrase he used. But he went on to say that in some friendships, the physical attraction starts to dominate the whole relationship, even define it. When that happens, the relationship can become unbalanced, even shallow.”

  “Uh . . . we’re surely not to that point yet.”

  “I know, and he said that too. Then he tried to explain his concern. He said that since you’re going to be here for several weeks, that means we will be together every day. At least I hope we are.” She was blushing furiously now and looked away.

  So he took a guess. “And he doesn’t want physical affection ‘dominating’ our relationship.”

  “Yes. Do you . . . uh. . . . think he’s right?”

  “I’m not sure.” That surprised her, so he hurried on. “Oh, I think that’s a very natural thing to happen, and his observation is a wise one. But I don’t feel that defines our relationship. Do you?”

  Lisa’s face was bright scarlet as she studiously examined her hands. “I. . . .” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I’m always wishing that you would kiss me again. Does that count?”

  “Yes. I mean no.” Benji shook his head. “I just don’t think that we’re obsessed with it. I mean, we talk a lot more than we kiss, don’t you think?”

  That brought Lisa’s head up, and her eyes brightened. “Yes. That’s a good point. I wish I had thought to tell him that.”

  Benji sat back, letting his breath out slowly. “And did he make any specific request of us?”

  “No. I asked him what he wanted us to do. And his answer surprised me. He said, ‘You and Benji don’t need me to tell you what or what not to do. I just want you to think about it.’”

  Benji was surprised to see her eyes fill with tears. “But what Vati said next made me cry.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He took me in his arms and held me for a long time. Then he said, very quietly, ‘Lisa, mein Liebchen, I think that there is a very good chance that this friendship between you and Benji has the potential to have real permanence to it.’”

  “Permanence?” Benji exclaimed. “Oh, I like that word.” He tipped his head back and spoke to the sky.“Wunderbar!”

  Lisa squeezed his hand. “And I looked him right in the eye and asked, ‘And how would you and Mama feel about that if that were to happen, Papa?’”

  “And what did he say?” Benji asked when she didn’t go on.

  “He didn’t say anything. He just kissed me on the cheek as tears filled his eyes. My father! With tears in his eyes. And that was my answer. He approves of you, Benji.” She laughed through the tears. “He approves of us!”

  February 18, 1935, 9:30 p.m.—Eckhardt Home, Munich

  Emilee Eckhardt sat beside her husband, holding his hand. They both turned as Lisa and Benji came through the front door. They too were holding hands and smiling at each other. Snowflakes had turned the shoulders of their coats and their stocking caps white. Benji was saying something that started Lisa giggling as they removed their coats and hats and shook them off. Emilee’s heart nearly burst with joy as she watched them. She closed her eyes. I thank Thee, dear Father, for this gift Thou has given to my precious daughter, to Thy precious daughter.

  Then she leaned in and whispered to Hans. “Look at her. Look at the joy in her eyes.”

  Hans was already focusing on his daughter, which had brought a lump to his throat, so all he managed to do was nod and whisper, “I know.”

  Lisa and Benji stopped talking as they came in and saw Hans and Emilee sitting there. “Oh. Hi!” Lisa said.

  “Hi.” Emilee smiled. “How were the Zeidners?”

  “Good.” Lisa sighed. “Except for Erika and Leyna. When it came time for Benji to say goodbye, they both broke down and cried. Leyna just sobbed and sobbed.”

  “It’s really strange,” Benji said softly. “I’ve been here just a little more than a month, yet I feel toward them just like I do toward Abby. They are much more th
an friends.”

  Lisa nodded. “Alemann said something funny to me as Benji was saying goodbye. He said, ‘You tell Benji to find two more just like him and bring them back for our girls.’”

  “Ah, yes,” Hans murmured. “Make that three. We need one for Jo too.”

  Lisa looked around. “Did Oma already go to bed?”

  “No,” Emilee said. “She’s just in her bedroom reading. Go tell her you’re here. She wants to come out and say goodbye.”

  Lisa did so and returned arm-in-arm with her grandmother. They sat down beside Benji on the sofa. There were all silent for a moment, and then Emilee looked at Benji. “We don’t want to keep you up too late. You have a long trip ahead of you.”

  “I’m good,” he said. “I’m traveling pretty light.”

  Emilee nodded. “Do you mind if the children come to the station? They are all going to miss you so much, Benji.”

  “Of course not. I am going to miss them. Little Niko and Rikki especially. It has been wonderful being here with your family. Even though I am very excited to get home and see my family again, it’s going to be very hard for me to not see all of you again for three years or more.”

  “No,” Lisa cried. “Not ‘more.’ I don’t like that word.”

  Benji turned to her. “Lise,” he said softly, “I don’t turn twenty until May, and it could be months after that before I get my mission call.”

  She pretended to pout. “I know that, but do you have to keep reminding me of it?”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “Sorry.”

  Inga took Lisa’s other hand. “Benji, please give our warmest wishes to your family. How we treasure their friendship.” She got a little misty-eyed and her voice caught. “Who would have guessed that when Elder Reissner and his companion started teaching Aunt Paula, it would lead us to all this, including finding such dear friends from across the sea?”

  “Ja, ja,” Emilee said. “And will you please give Paula and Wolfie and Anna and Rudi and all of their children a hug from us when you see them?”

  “I will,” Benji said.

  As they fell silent, lost in their own thoughts, Lisa was suddenly nervous. “Um. . . .” She was twisting her hands together. “Papa, I have something to say.”

  They turned to her, giving her a questioning look. “Say on,” Hans said.

  “I know what you’re going to say, but I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Now there’s a surprise,” her father said with a smile.

  There was a flicker of a smile, then it was gone. Benji reached down and took Lisa’s hand and squeezed it. “Go on. Tell them.”

  Lisa hesitantly began. “As you well know, Alemann and Richelle are returning to America so that he can continue his research at Harvard and in Washington.”

  Hans groaned. “Not again, Lisa. We’ve been over this and over this. Yes, they have asked if you and Jo can go with them. But no, that is not possible. We cannot risk—”

  Emilee jabbed him with her elbow. “Hear her out, Hans.”

  “All right,” Hans said. “I am listening. Go ahead.”

  “All right. First off, Vati, I want to say that I do now better understand why this whole thing with Hitlerjugend is so important to you, why you worry so much about it. I also know that when Jo and I went to America with the Zeidners last summer, you were later questioned by certain government officials. They wanted to know why your two daughters abruptly withdrew from the program after less than a month of attendance. Our leaving the program like we did could have put your position at the university in jeopardy.”

  Hans stared at her, and his brows lowered as anger filled his face. He swung on Emilee, glaring at her. Emilee threw up her hands. “Don’t look at me. I said nothing to her about any of that.”

  “Who told you this?” he demanded.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Lisa said.

  “Alemann,” Hans muttered angrily.

  She ignored him. “What does matter is that you are being carefully watched, and further attempts to keep us out of Hitler Youth could have serious consequences. Am I right?”

  “Severe consequences would be a better word,” Hans growled darkly. “There is no family crisis this year. No excuse for us yanking you two out of the program and sending you off to America.”

  “I know that. So, I have a proposal.”

  He was staring at her, brooding, but after several seconds, his head bobbed. “Continue.”

  “I’m sixteen now, which means I have two more summers before I graduate from Hitler Youth. So, I now commit to you that I will faithfully attend Hitler Youth for the next two years. I promise that I will be a model student and graduate with honors from the program.”

  Hans’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Just like that?”

  “No, Papa!” Lisa burst out. “Not just like that. I hate Hitler Youth now! I despise what they’ve become and who they are and what they do. But I will do it, and I will be a model student. I will make you and Mama proud of me. And I will do that so that Jo doesn’t have to go.”

  “That’s noble of you, dear Lisa, but you’re not the problem here. It’s Jo not going that creates the problem.”

  Lisa acknowledged that with a bob of her head. “Jo would never tell you this, but she hated every minute of those three weeks she was in camp last summer. If I hadn’t been there for her, I don’t know what she would have done. Had a mental collapse, maybe.”

  “She never said anything to us—” Hans started to say, clearly taken aback by her words.

  Lisa cut him off sharply. “Of course she didn’t, Papa! She’s not stupid. She knows how important this is to you and to our family. But I’m telling you, it was absolutely awful for her. The other girls made fun of her. Called her the Little Mormon Angel. The boys teased her mercilessly. Two held her down one day while a third one kissed her. I thought she was going to throw up when they let her up.”

  Emilee was horrified, but Lisa went on.

  “Some of the counselors grilled her about why this was her first year of camp when she was already twelve. Why her father had let her go to America instead of doing her duty.” Disgust made her voice harsh. “And it’s only going to be worse this year. We have a new commandant, and she’s hard as nails. They made it very clear to me last year that Jo won’t be sleeping in my tent again. They’re going to put her in a whole different part of camp.”

  “And what’s our excuse this year for sending her to America?” Hans barked. “Fallen arches? Acne?”

  Lisa ignored the sarcasm. “Did you know that almost every night last summer, Jo lay awake long after everyone else was asleep? And then she’d cry. She would bury her face in her pillow so the other girls wouldn’t hear her crying.”

  Hans’s jaw dropped. Emilee gave a low cry. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she whispered.

  “Why do you think? Because we know the pressure that Papa’s facing.” Lisa’s chest rose and fell as she fought back tears. “Did you know that she got a really bad rash over most of her body within a week of our arrival?”

  “What?” Emilee cried. “From what?”

  “At first they thought it was poison oak. But the doctor finally said it was from stress. He gave her some ointment that helped.”

  “Oh, Jo,” Emilee whispered.

  “She swore me to secrecy, Mama.” Lisa sniffed back tears. “And here’s another little surprise for you. That rash is starting again. Just barely. Around her waist. Want to know why? Because she’s having nightmares about camp already. It’s still three months away, and she’s having nightmares.”

  The shock in the room was heavy. Emilee was weeping now. Inga was wiping at her eyes too. Hans was staring at the floor.

  Benji spoke up. “Last summer in Utah, Jolanda and I became really close friends. No, more like brother and sister. And I learned this about Jo. She is
very much like my older sister, Christina. Tina is gentle of spirit. Kind. Soft-spoken. Very trusting. Always the peacemaker. And she has this deep, instinctive love for people. That’s your Jo. Lisa has talked a lot about what Hitler Youth Camp is like. And I have a theory. This may sound foolish, but I think her spirit is so pure, so lovely, so innocent, that it naturally recoils against the harshness and coarseness of the camp. And that natural abhorrence manifests itself as a rash on her body.” He sat back but then changed his mind and leaned forward again. “But that goodness and that purity is not the same as being weak. Just the opposite. Her courage is amazing.”

  Lisa reached out and squeezed his hand. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes, that’s Jo, Papa. That’s your daughter,” she said, getting up and moving over to her parents. She knelt and took her father’s hands. “So, I will go to camp, and I will be the model student. And if anyone questions you about why one of your daughters isn’t attending, you will say that there are circumstances in our family that make it impossible for her to go. But then you will point out that you have another daughter who is an exemplary model of what it means to be in Hitler Youth.”

  “And what about Hans Otto?” Emilee asked. “He’ll be ten this fall. So next summer, he’ll have to go. What about him?”

  Lisa turned. “Hans Otto will be fine, Mama.” She turned back to her father. “He is so you, Vati. Strong. Confident. Smart. He’ll get through it. And I’ll be there with him those first two years to help him if he needs it.”

  Her father finally looked up, his eyes filled with wonder. “You really have thought this through, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, Vati.”

  His expression saddened. “Then answer me this. We have to have a good reason why Jo isn’t enrolled. No, more than that—it has to be an unimpeachable reason. Having a doctor sign a form saying the camp gives Jo a bad rash isn’t going to cut it. What do we do about that?”

  Lisa moved back and sat down beside Benji. “I was hoping you would ask,” she said, smiling wanly. “I called Tante Paula tonight. From the Zeidners’, just before we came home.”