Fire and Steel, Volume 6

by Gerald N. Lund

  “You what?” Hans bellowed. Emilee was shocked too.

  “I felt awful. It was early in the morning there and she was still asleep. But guess what?” she cried triumphantly. “Paula is going to call you tomorrow, Mama. And she’s going to tell you that Onkel Wolfie is going to be away from home a lot this summer. He is supervising a major project for the Highway Department in Southern Utah.”

  “Come on, Lisa,” Hans snapped. “You can’t ask Paula and Wolfie to make up some lame excuse for asking Jo to go to Utah again. I wouldn’t put it past the Gestapo to check it out.”

  “It’s not an excuse,” Lisa shot back. “Aunt Paula is seventy-one now, Papa. And she’s never fully been the same since her major surgery. She has trouble getting around.” She looked to her mother. “You know that, Mama, because she’s talked to you about it. She won’t be able to manage on her own with Wolfie out of town.”

  Hans stared at her, marveling and fuming all at once. “And what she needs is a thirteen-year-old girl to come over alone and take care of her all summer? Oh, yeah! That will satisfy them.”

  “But she wouldn’t be going alone, Papa,” Lisa said quietly.

  “No, Lisa. Going over again with the Zeidners looks all the more suspicious, especially since they’ll be on the East Coast all summer.”

  “She won’t be going with the Zeidners.”

  “Then who?”

  Oma Inga raised her hand slowly. “She’ll be going over with me, Hans. I’m going over to be with my sister.”

  Hans was stunned. His mouth opened and then shut again. Emilee reached over and gripped Inga’s hand. “Oh, Mama Inga. You make me cry.”

  Lisa went on doggedly. “But that only solves the problem for this coming summer, Papa, because Jo is eligible for Hitler Youth for five more years.”

  Hans was bent over, staring at the floor, his face in his hands. “And I suppose you have worked out a solution for that too?”

  It was his mother who answered. “Yes, Hans,” Inga said. “Jo and I are going to emigrate to America. And we will stay with Aunt Paula until Jo is eighteen.”

  February 19, 1935, 10:12 a.m.—

  Alemann Zeidner’s Office

  Alemann turned away from his typewriter when a knock sounded on his door. “Come in. It’s open.”

  The door opened and Hans was standing in the hallway. He smiled, then removed his hat and overcoat and shook off the snow. “Guten Morgen!”

  “Ah, good morning, Hans. Looks like it’s snowing outside?”

  “Yes. It’s settling in for the day.” He came in and shut the door behind him. “Are you in the middle of something, or do you have a moment?”

  “Just typing up some ideas for my next lecture. Come. Sit down.” Hans hung his hat and coat on a hook behind the door.

  “So,” Alemann said as Hans settled in across the desk from him, “Benji got away all right?”

  “Ja. He’s on his way to Hamburg, then back to America.”

  “Is Lisa devastated?”

  “Yeah, pretty much, though she’s trying to put a brave face on it. She took another emotional blow yesterday, too. But she said Benji would expect her to be strong.”

  “Another emotional blow?”

  Hans told him about their decision to have Jo and Inga emigrate to America. As he listened, Alemann was clearly shocked. “Just like that?” he asked when Hans finished. “I thought you were set against leaving the Fatherland just because things are getting rough.”

  “Emilee and I are not leaving, but Lisa’s pleas that we protect Jo were pretty compelling. And when Mama said she would go with her, I about fainted.”

  Alemann was deeply moved. “Yes. And how very noble of Lisa, knowing how she feels about Hitlerjugend.”

  “The thought of sending Jo and my mother away for the next five years, or until things change here, was pretty rough for all of us, but Lisa most of all. It was a very mature thing that she suggested. So anyway, Emilee and Mama are off today to start the paperwork.”

  Alemann sat back in his chair and made a steeple with his fingers. “That’s good. The sooner they do it the better.” He paused. “I heard from my source in Berlin last week.”

  “Oh? What now?”

  “Hitler plans to outlaw youth programs of any kind in the Fatherland except for Hitler Youth.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Well, this might. At the same time, he plans to make Hitler Youth mandatory for all youth.”

  Hans jerked forward. “No, I hadn’t heard that. Not just party members?”

  “Not according to my friend. Severe penalties will be levied against all noncompliant parents. Even prison time.”

  Hans swore in disgust. “Of course. Ram it down our throats.” Then came another thought. “Then it’s a good thing that we’re doing this with Jo now, before anything has been announced. Otherwise it might look suspicious. I was thinking I’d tell Eberhardt about it sometime this week. You know, just casually mention that my Aunt Paula’s health is declining and that my mother is going to emigrate and will take Jo with her to help out. Mama’s in her seventies now, so that’s a plausible reason.”

  “I’d do it today,” Alemann said. “The further away your decision is from the announcement of the law, the better it will look for you.”

  “Good idea. And what will you and Richelle do if the law passes?”

  “That’s the irony of you being here and us having this conversation right now. Guess what we talked about with our daughters last night at great length?”

  “How to keep Erika and Leyna out of Hitlerjugend.”

  “We’ve talked about that for months,” he said grimly. “And last night, we made a decision. And just as it did in your home, the decision brought many tears.”

  Hans leaned forward. “What decision?”

  “You didn’t happen to see Richelle at the train station this morning, did you?”

  “At the train station? No. Was she there?”

  “Yes, but her train left just before eight. She’s off to Switzerland.” Alemann exhaled slowly and with great weariness. “Bern has an exclusive private girls’ school with an outstanding academic reputation.”

  Hans’s jaw dropped. “And you’re thinking of enrolling them there?”

  “No. Richelle is enrolling them today. She called the headmistress last night. She and her husband have a chalet in Adelboden, and we’ve been friends for years. Even though they’re full, they’re making a place for Leyna and Erika.”

  Hans was reeling. “And when will they start? In the fall?” But he immediately shook his head. “No, it has to be before summer camp begins, right?”

  “Exactly,” Alemann said. “My last class is Thursday afternoon. Assuming Richelle gets everything set, I’ll take Erika and Leyna down on Friday and get them settled in, even though it’s the middle of the term. Richelle’s going to find a small flat there in Bern, and she’ll stay there until June, when we leave for Boston.”

  “Friday! Oh, Alemann. Sending off Benji was hard enough. Then it was Jo and Grandma moving to America. Lisa sobbed and sobbed. Now her dearest friends in the world are leaving too? This will crush her.”

  “We had buckets of tears at our house too. And I shed more than a few myself. Yet, what else can we do? This summer we’re covered with our trip to Boston, but Eberhardt is pushing back on me. He pointedly congratulated me for working the timing out at Harvard so that the girls would be at summer camp the whole time, and we would not have to worry about taking them with us, as he put it. When I told him that our plans were already set to take the family, he was not happy.” Another deep sigh. “These are dark days, Hans. Sending our children away so the state can’t get them in their clutches. Who would have guessed?”

  “And I don’t think the days are going to get any lighter.” Hans sat back, marveli
ng. The plan was brilliant. As was typical of the Zeidners. Then he noticed that Alemann was giving him a strange look. “What?”

  “Don’t go to Eberhardt.”

  That took Hans aback. “What? Why not?”

  “Because he’ll see through it. He’s a buffoon, but he’s not stupid. You’ve already sent Jo to America twice. No way will he buy it for a third time. And you can’t get on his bad side, Hans. You’re his rising star, his poster-boy Nazi. If you come under suspicion, he’ll drop you like a hot potato.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t say anything to him yet. Quietly go ahead with your preparations to send Jo and your mother to Utah. But wait until late April or early May to say anything. Then have your aunt call your mother and announce that she needs an operation.” His mind was racing now. “It will be an urgent thing. She can’t wait. But with her husband leaving for the summer, she has to have help. Your mother will have to go and help her sister. And your mother is—how old now?”

  “Um . . . she’ll be seventy-four in December.”

  “Perfect. She’s in good health, but she can’t make that trip and help her sister alone. And Emilee surely can’t go with three younger children to care for.” Alemann was grinning now. “Nor can Lisa. She’s a group leader in Hitler Youth, right? She’s one of their bright stars.”

  Hans sat back, his mind spinning. Finally Alemann gave him a questioning look. “What?”

  “You have a very devious mind, you know that, right?”

  Alemann laughed. “I’m just getting started. Along about midsummer, it will become clear that your aunt needs someone close to provide long-term care and support. So, as sad as it makes you and Emilee, there is no choice but to. . . .” His eyebrows raised.

  “Have my mother and Jo apply for permission to stay in America permanently.”

  “Very good,” Alemann chuckled. “And that, mein Freund, solves your problem long-term.”

  March 1, 1935, 5:14 p.m.—D&RGW Railway Terminal,

  Thompson Springs, Utah

  As the train clanked to a stop, Benji stood up and retrieved his valise from a rack above him. He was seated on the left side of the train, so all he could see out the window were the few buildings that constituted Thompson Springs. Farther down he could make out the corrals where he and his family had brought their stock to ship off back in the “good years.” They were empty now, with one gate hanging loosely on one hinge. He turned his head to look out the other side, but the aisle was filled with people shuffling toward the door and he didn’t have a clear view of the platform outside. He waited to let them pass.

  Since he was the last one off the car, he paused as he reached the top step and looked around the platform. Instantly a cheer went up from a large group down by the luggage racks. “There he is!” someone shouted, and another cheer went up. He saw a boy holding a poster board that read, “Welcome home, Benji!” He couldn’t tell who it was because he held the poster in front of his face.

  But then he saw his mother and father waving wildly. Next to them was MJ. And June was beside him, waving too. Before Benji could wave back, a blue bullet shot out of the crowd, darting in and out of the people as she came on a dead run. In one leap he was down off the steps. He dropped his valise and opened his arms just as Abby hurtled herself at him, screeching, “Benji! Benji! Benji!”

  He swept her up, swinging her around and around. When he finally put her down, he kissed her on the cheek. “Hey there, little sister.”

  “Oh, Benji!” Abby cried. “Is it really you?”

  “Yep! Bone tired. Smelling like a barn. And hungry enough to eat what’s left of our herd.”

  Abby took him by the hand. “Come, we have a surprise for you.” She laughed in delight. “Actually, we have several surprises for you, but the best one first. She pulled him forward, past the other people on the platform. As they approached the clot of people that was his family, a woman stepped out. She was holding a baby in her arms.

  Benji stared, then gasped. “Tina!”

  She came forward. “Hello, Benji.” She put one arm around her brother and kissed his forehead. “May I introduce you to Monte Jr., the newest and youngest member of the Westland clan.”

  “You had the baby!”

  She laughed heartily. “I think you could say that.”

  “And everything went fine for you?”

  “Perfect. Finally!” Tina had married five years before and had not been able to have children until now.

  “And you came all the way up from California to be here?”

  She was enjoying this. “Well, you went all the way around the world. Why shouldn’t I come up from California? Monte says hello. He would have loved to come, but medical school doesn’t give you that kind of flexibility.”

  Before Benji could answer, his mother, father, and all the rest of his family swarmed in around him and he was inundated.

  It took five or six full minutes for him to greet and get hugs from everyone, and he was a little breathless by the time he finished. He hadn’t realized how keenly he had missed them all. When the last hugs were finished, his mother turned to him. “Frank called and said they got to see you in New York.”

  “Yeah, it was so great of them to come up. And they are so happy, Mom. And Reggie. Oh my goodness. He’s grown at least six inches since we last saw him.”

  “I know. He’ll be twelve in August. Can you believe that? And isn’t their little Babbette a doll?”

  “Yes. She looks so much like Celeste. And she chatters like a little squirrel now. You can’t tell what she’s saying, but she knows. It was great. We had a whole day together.”

  Benji turned to MJ and June. “And what about Noah? How are he and Liesel doing?”

  “They’re doing great. She’s expecting. The Reissners are coming down later this week.”

  Mitch raised both hands high. “All right, everyone,” he called. “We have reserved the back room of the Wrangler Café. I’m sure Benji’s hungry, so let’s go eat. Then we’ll load up and head for home.”

  5:21 p.m.—Wrangler Café

  Mitch and Edie held Benji and Abby back as the others filed into the room and found their places at the tables. “Hold on, you two,” Mitch said. “You’re going to sit at the head table with Mother and me.”

  “Not me,” Abby exclaimed. “I’m not the guest of honor.”

  “But you’re my alter ego, Abby girl. Won’t you sit by me?”

  “Happily,” she said, putting her arm around Benji’s waist.

  There were six empty chairs at the head table as they got seated. Benji looked up at his father. “Someone else we’re still waiting on?”

  But his father didn’t seem to hear. He raised his hands and called for everyone’s attention. Eating in a restaurant was something few of them had done, so there was a lot of excitement in the room. But the group quickly quieted as parents shushed their younger children and everyone turned to look at Mitch. “I know you’re all hungry, especially Benji. But I have a few things to say first.” He looked down at Benji and Abby. “And it’s not just about Benji, but about Abby, too. Throughout San Juan County, these two are known as the miracle twins. Children didn’t always come easy to your grandmother and me, so by the time we had four, Grandma and I thought we were done. And then I was called to serve a mission in Germany, for what we thought would be three years, so that really seemed to confirm there would be no more children coming. But then the war broke out and I had to come home after just a year. Then about a year later, on Grandma’s forty-fifth birthday, we were blessed with a set of twins. It was an incredible gift, which Grandma saw as coming from Heavenly Father because she had been willing to let me go off to Germany for three years and leave her alone to take care of the family.”

  Someone whistled and several children clapped. “Yay, Grandma!” someone called.

 
Mitch grew more serious. “It’s strange how sometimes what seems like random connections can lead to great things. Something else that came from that mission call was a friendship with a couple by the name of Jacob and Adelia Reissner. Jacob too was a German missionary, though I met him only once very briefly in Germany. But when they were passing through Monticello one summer, they stopped to invite Mother and me to come to a mission reunion during general conference time. We accepted the invitation, and that began a friendship that is still treasured today, almost twenty years later.

  “Out of that seemingly random connection, another incredible opportunity came for me to return to Germany after the war. When the First Presidency decided to purchase and deliver surplus war goods to the starving Saints in Germany, our former mission president recommended that Jacob be the one to lead that effort. And Jacob asked me to join him.”

  Mitch paused, then smiled. “I know that you’re all wondering. ‘Why is Grandpa telling us all this, especially when we’re all hungry?’”

  Laughter.

  “Well, there is actually a reason for my telling you all this. And that is that Jacob Reissner has maintained his contact with the Church authorities over the years because of his love for Germany and the German Saints. And the fact that he is now a university professor specializing in German history and culture means that sometimes, even now, the First Presidency will call on him to consult with them on matters related to Germany.” His countenance fell. “How we would have loved to have the Reissners come down this weekend and join in our celebration of Benji’s return.”

  Moans and cries of disappointment. Benji turned to his mother. “When will we get to see them?”

  She gave him an enigmatic smile but said nothing.

  Mitch continued, more slowly now, clearly relishing the interest he was generating. “About three weeks ago, your grandmother and I were talking with the Reissners on the phone. And they happened to ask about Benji—when he was coming home and if he was still planning on going on a mission. We were happy to tell them that Benji is eager to enter missionary service as soon as he turns twenty. We also happened to mention that Abby had also decided that she wants to serve a mission as well. They were very pleased with that news. And then Jacob had a wonderful idea. He told us. . . .”