As more images of the destruction of Germany filled the newspapers and magazines, the POWs realized that there was no home to go back to. The thin thread of hope they had so desperately clung to had frayed, then snapped. All they had was loss and a desolate future.
Like Ursula, the POWs had discounted the rumors of the Nazi concentration camps as propaganda. The barbarity reported in the newspapers and radio could not be true. It was not humanly possible. But after Eisenhower and Patton visited the camps and gave testimony, and once photographs and footage were released, the truth became irrefutable, the evidence sickening.
The friendliness between the POWs and their guards disappeared, along with the ease between the prisoners and the townsfolk – replaced by disgust. Aversion towards the Germans turned into hatred.
The day came when Friedrich and the others in the camp were forced to watch footage of the concentration camps. She heard through Otto that what the POWs saw was even worse than what she had read about. Karl had gotten sick and had to leave the room. Gustav refused to believe the images. Many of the POWs believed that the emaciated bodies were those of Germans, and that the scenes had been staged by the Soviets. There was no other way to make sense of it.
Friedrich had met enough hard-core Nazis to know what they were capable of. But he could not fathom that such evil existed on so massive a scale. As more information was made known over the next few weeks, and more films were shown to the POWs, he slowly understood the truth. He and the others were stunned into silence, withdrawing into themselves.
Friedrich’s beloved Germany of Beethoven and Goethe and Schiller – the Germany of his parents – had been replaced by a different one, by a culture twisted into deformity. All his memories, all his connections to home were contaminated by this monstrous horror, a blight on his soul. Not only did he have no family and no home to return to, there was now no association, no memory to take refuge in. Evil had worked its way into everything, leaving only a deep sense of revulsion, loss, and shame.
He told Ursula that he would be forever tainted. Besides feeling a profound sense of betrayal, he realized that he had been a part of it. Like a good soldier, he had done what he was told to do.
Ursula had tried to convince him that there was no way he could have known what was happening. That he was in Africa when the horrible crimes were beginning to take place. And that people kept silent out of fear and in order to protect their families.
But Friedrich took responsibility for the part he played and fell into a deep depression.
Ursula had read about other camps where the atrocity films were shown. In one camp, a thousand men had burned their German uniforms. Many other POWs, to show their disavowal of their homeland, requested to fight the Japanese. As with Gustav, others refused to believe the films. They could not accept that their country, their friends and neighbors and family, were complicit – or worse, actively took part in – the horror.
Friedrich had stayed away from her, avoiding her when she sought him out. Weeks turned to months, with only a few glimpses of him. He had volunteered for administration duties at camp, leaving him only an occasional day now and then at the farm.
When Ursula finally found a few moments with him, she saw that he had changed. He had grown gaunt and dark circles ringed his eyes. In part, this was due to the reduction of food at camp, but mostly it was due to sleepless nights. Though Friedrich didn’t want to speak about what he was feeling, he told her about how it all began for him.
“My father said that after we were defeated in the Great War, the nation’s spirit had been broken, and we wanted our honor back. We had been humiliated and had nothing. People clung to the hope that the fatherland would stand proud once again. That was the allure of Hitler. But the ugly signs of where Germany was heading became increasingly clear.
“The schools became breeding grounds for Hitler’s way of thinking. Jews were banned from teaching. Several of my father’s friends at the university lost their posts and were replaced by Nazis. To protect me, my father sent me to school in London, where two of his friends had moved. He said fear was in everyone’s heart and he urged me to be careful. Not to speak of anything political in my letters. I was there for almost four years.
“Then I was summoned home. At first, I was happy at the thought of being closer to my parents and my little brother. But I rarely saw them. I served the required six months in the Labor Service, and then entered the military. I became part of the Afrika Korps. Germany once again became a distant home.”
He shook his head at the thoughts that filled his mind, and his eyes hardened. “My father was involved in some activity that cost him his life. On my only visit home, my mother whispered to me that he had died protecting the old Germany he so loved.”
Ursula had held him tightly in her arms. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to try to lessen his anguish. But after that day, he was gone again for several weeks.
Then, after the surrender of Japan in August, there was finally talk of the POWs returning home. But soon a harsher reality made itself known. For most prisoners, immediate repatriation would be combined with a minimum of six months of required labor in Allied countries. The POWs would be used to help rebuild Europe. A grim-faced Gustav had said, “Our war is just beginning.”
Ursula felt helpless. She couldn’t get through to Friedrich. He was struggling day to day in deep pain. She tried to imagine the emptiness he must feel.
And then, the additional blow in September. Just when she sensed that Friedrich was coming round and tentatively reaching out to her again, he had been caught at camp trying to falsify papers. At first, she couldn’t believe it. It was out of character for him to do anything underhanded. But he admitted his guilt and lost all privileges for a month. When she finally was able to see him, he didn’t want to speak about it. When she pressed him, he said only that he had tried to change Karl’s place of origin.
Frankie stirred in his sleep, shifting Ursula’s thoughts back to the present. There had been some healing, some change in Friedrich recently. As if he knew their time together was limited and he wanted their last weeks or months to be as good as possible for them.
Shadowy evening settled in the room, and a heavy weariness overcame Ursula. She wiped away her tears and kissed Frankie’s forehead. Then imagining that Friedrich was curved around the other side of their baby, his hand linked with hers, his eyes filled with love, she closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 7
Lillian brought a few library books to the kitchen table to be returned. Though she tended to use Charlotte’s nap time to work on her drawings, she still found time for a little more reading now that she was at home more. She realized how much she missed it.
She glanced out the kitchen window to see if Gabriel was on his way home from school. He was getting home later and later, but today he promised to be home early. She felt the need for a little distraction. There was still no word from Charles, and even though she knew the lines of communication were jammed, part of her feared that he had gotten sick again, or something worse. She couldn’t bear the thought that something might now befall him. She had heard of such things. Boys finally home from the war – then killed in an accident on an icy road. Or in a train wreck. Or succumbing to pneumonia. She squeezed her eyes shut – she would not entertain such thoughts. Charles would come home. He would get word to her as soon as he was able.
She was somewhat concerned that Gabriel was spending more and more time away from home. She supposed it was just a part of growing up. Though now that she thought of it, he did seem a little distracted lately. Izzy’s comment about how the youngest child often feels neglected when there’s a new baby came to mind. Perhaps she should have a talk with him. He was so independent that she sometimes forgot there might be things that troubled him.
As she bundled Charlotte in her jacket and booties, she heard Gabriel running up the stairs.
“I’m home, Mom!” he said, stepping insi
de and wriggling out of his coat.
“Don’t take your coat off, Gabriel. I thought we could walk to Mancetti’s to pick up a few groceries. Do you mind?”
He shrugged. “No. Hello, Charlotte.” He bent over his little sister. “Did you miss me? I thought so.” He made faces and noises to make her smile.
“I need to get a few ingredients to start my holiday baking. And I’d like to stop by the library. I’m in the mood for a little Dickens.”
“I think what you really mean,” Gabriel said with a sly grin, “is that you want everyone in the neighborhood to see Charlotte.”
“Well, it’s supposed to get colder, so I thought I should take a stroll while I still can.” Lillian adjusted her hat in the hall tree mirror. “And I do have a few books to return to the library.”
Gabriel smiled at her explanations.
She chucked him under the chin. “And, yes, I want everyone to see how much she’s grown. And what a delightful baby she is!” Lillian lifted Charlotte above her head, causing her to smile and open her eyes wide.
Gabriel laughed. “I like showing her to everyone, too. People become instantly happy when they see her, did you notice? And Tommy will be glad to see her.”
“If we go to the library first, maybe he’ll be finished with his work by the time we get to Mancetti’s and can walk home with us.”
Gabriel put his coat back on and brought the baby carriage down the steps, while Lillian followed with Charlotte. He patiently waited when the elderly woman on the first floor stepped out to see Charlotte.
“I heard you coming. I just want to take a peek at little Charlotte. Oh, my goodness! She’s grown so much! May I?” she reached out her arms and held Charlotte, then bounced her gently on her hip. “Hello, little one! Look at those beautiful curls! Oh, she’s adorable. Just adorable.” She handed Charlotte back to Lillian.
“Thank you, Mrs. Gibson,” Lillian said smiling at the remarks. “Yes, she’s really growing.”
“How wonderful to have two older brothers to help out!” She patted Gabriel’s head. “You’re no longer the baby, are you?”
“I haven’t been that for a long time,” said Gabriel. “I’ll take the carriage outside, Mom.” He made his escape through the vestibule and opened the carriage on the sidewalk.
Lillian said her goodbye and was soon nestling Charlotte in the blankets. “You’re a good older brother, Gabriel.”
They hadn’t even made it to the end of the street when they ran into another neighbor.
“Why hello, Mrs. Wilson!” said Lillian. “What a nice surprise. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. I don’t get out as much as I used to.”
“Not with a baby, you don’t.” Mrs. Wilson leaned over the carriage and gave a gasp of amazement. “How big she’s grown!” She put her arm around Gabriel’s shoulder and squeezed. “I expect you’ll be seeing me more often – now that I’ve abandoned my position with the Transit Authority.”
Lillian raised her eyebrows at the news. “I thought you loved your job there. And weren’t you recently promoted?”
Mrs. Wilson tightened her head scarf and gave a shrug. “The returning men are all desperate for work.” She leaned over the carriage and smiled at the baby. “Yeeees, they are,” she said, tickling Charlotte under the chin. “So, I’m back to volunteering – or as Harry puts it, working for free. Ah well, we must all do our part. What is she now, two months?”
“Three!” Lillian pulled back the carriage top and repositioned Charlotte’s hat. The baby began to kick her arms and legs.
“Hello, sweetheart!” Mrs. Wilson’s expressions shifted back and forth as she held a conversation with Lillian and then engaged with Charlotte – offering a concerned expression to Lillian, and then smiling and wiggling her fingers at the baby. Gabriel looked on, amused.
Mrs. Wilson clasped her hands. “Oh, that little dimple when she smiles. What a darling! Just seeing her warms the cockles of my heart.”
“The what?” asked Gabriel.
“Any word from your husband?” Mrs. Wilson briefly shifted to a serious mode.
“Only that he’s on his way to London. I expect to hear from him soon. Any day.”
Mrs. Wilson considered Lillian’s words. “I’m sure you will. Though he’ll have a devil of a time getting back home.” She went back to cooing. “Oh, what a big girl you are! Yes, you are!” She straightened and faced Lillian. “All the ships are full to capacity – the voyages to victory!” she said with a fisted swing of her arm. “Twelve thousand troops on the Queen Mary alone. I can scarce imagine it! Is there any hope he’ll make it home for Christmas?”
“It’s possible. But if not for Christmas, then soon after,” said Lillian
“He’ll do his best, I’m sure.” She leaned over the baby carriage. “To see his little angel, yes, he will!”
Mrs. Wilson pinched Gabriel’s cheek. “Feeling a little lost these days? With all the new changes?”
“Not really…”
Mrs. Wilson took Lillian’s arm and whispered. “It can be hard on the youngest, whatever the age.”
Lillian glanced at Gabriel who was looking up towards Billy’s apartment window. “He’s been a little distracted lately with school and all, but he loves having a little sister.”
“Mark my words, he’s feeling the change. He just needs a little reassuring.” Mrs. Wilson leaned over one last time to fuss over Charlotte. “Well, I promised Harry a baked chicken tonight. Best be on my way.”
“Say hello to him for me. It was so nice seeing you.”
“Goodbye. Ta-ta, little one,” she said, wiggling her fingers to Charlotte. “Ta-ta! You take good care of your little sister,” she added to Gabriel, pinching his cheek again.
Gabriel smiled as she left, and then leaned over Charlotte. “Don’t worry. It won’t always be like this.” He rubbed his cheek and frowned. “Except for the pinching.”
Similar conversations took place at the library and the grocery store, the longest with Mrs. Mancetti, who gathered Charlotte in her arms and walked around the store with her, leaving Mr. Mancetti to ring up the customers and bag their groceries.
Gabriel saw that Tommy was up on a stepladder restocking the shelves and ran over to him. Then he noticed that Amy was standing there with him.
“Hi, Amy!”
“Gabriel! You have to help us! We’re still trying to find a theme for our French project.” She flung back her head and groaned in frustration. “I just can’t think of anything! We must include sequences, numbers, transition words. We thought of explaining how batteries work, or radios, or talking about stamp collecting, but nothing feels right. Have you thought of anything else, Tommy?”
He shook his head.
“Well, don’t give up. We have to submit our idea by Monday. Put on your thinking cap, Gabriel.”
“Okay. We’ll figure something out.”
Lillian had retrieved Charlotte from Mrs. Mancetti and turned onto the aisle. She saw Amy looking up at Tommy, her schoolbooks in her arms. Her long wavy hair hung down to her waist.
“Hello, Amy.”
Amy spun around and her eyes brightened at seeing Charlotte. “Hello, Mrs. Drooms. Oh, can I hold her?” She set her books at her feet.
“Of course.” Lillian lifted Charlotte out of the carriage and handed her to Amy.
“Oh, I would love to have a little sister like this. I just adore her!” She walked up and down the aisle, prattling to Charlotte. “When you get older, I’ll buy paper dolls for you to play with. And I’ll teach you how to make a sailboat out of newspaper, and…”
Lillian smiled and turned to Tommy. “Are you almost finished, Tommy? Oh, I’ll take one of those.”
Tommy handed her a can of condensed milk. “Once these boxes are empty, I’m done.”
“Good. Then we’ll wait for you at the counter. I’ll just finish my shopping.”
“Amy! Come along!” cried Mrs. Little from the counter.
“My mom’s calling me.�
�� Amy handed Charlotte back to Lillian. “Look – her eyes are starting to close.”
Lillian smiled and gently placed Charlotte back in the carriage. “You have the magic touch, Amy.”
Amy glowed with pride, then turned to Tommy. “Let me know if you think of anything, Tommy. You too, Gabriel. Bye!” She blew a kiss to the now-sleeping baby and ran to the front of the store.
Lillian turned down another aisle, humming as she looked at the spices.
Tommy put away the rest of the cans of milk, but held on to the last one, staring intently at it. “Gabriel!”
“What?” Gabriel wondered at Tommy’s fixation with the can. “What is it? Do you need help? Do you feel all right?”
“Food! Baking!” cried Tommy. “For our project!”
Gabriel’s face lit up. “Like how to make something? A recipe! Dessert!”
“It’d be easy. Lots of instructions, time phrases and numbers. I think Amy would like it.”
“And you could pass out the results to the class. They’ll love it!”
“Let’s go tell Amy!”
Tommy jumped off the stepladder and he and Gabriel ran down the aisle and out the door to catch up to Amy.
When they came back, Lillian was at the counter paying, and was surprised to see the boys coming in the store. “Where – ”
“We’ll explain later,” Tommy said. He quickly finished emptying the last box of canned goods, with Gabriel at his side.
All the way home, they described their ideas about the project to her. “Do you know any French recipes, Mom?”
“I made crepes once. Maybe Mrs. Kuntzman can give you some ideas. Amy must have been happy with your suggestion.”
“She sure was,” said Gabriel. “She slapped me on the back and said ‘good work!’ and she gave Tommy a kiss on the cheek.
“Shut up, Gabe.”
Christmastime 1945 Page 7
