Christmastime 1943

by Linda Mahkovec

  One by one, the men also began to laugh, and finally Remling, relieved to be in the clear, joined in. He pulled out his first drawing of her and waved it around, increasing their laughter all the more.

  Lillian dabbed at her eyes, trying to speak. “Wait until I tell Charles about this! Oh, I can’t believe – ” She placed a hand on her side where a pain shot from laughing so hard – and yet she couldn’t stop.

  “And you all knew?” She tossed her head back and laughed again.

  Vinnie finally came to the front and draped his arm around Remling’s shoulder. “Rembrandt here is an illustrator for Uncle Sam – goes on the line to let the world know what it’s like out there. He’s one of the best, so we thought . . .” He pointed to the framed drawing and shrugged.

  Lillian searched for her handkerchief in her purse, and wiped away her tears of laughter.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Remling. Thank you all,” she said to the group. “I’ll hang it in my home and it will always remind me of our time together.”

  The mood was now veering too close to sentimentality for the group of soldiers, and one of them cried out, “Where’s the champagne? That’s what’s missing in this lousy joint!” and he wheeled his chair to the back of the room where a game of cards was getting started.

  One patient rolled up the magazine in his hand and swatted the guy next to him, which was greeted with an insult. Another started crooning along with the song on the radio.

  Soon they had all settled back into their comfortable complaining and dark humor. Though as Lillian stood there watching them, individually they tossed her a smile or a wink or a simple nod.

  Lillian had never expected to feel so at ease in a group of soldiers. And yet here she was, completely at home with these men. She imagined that this is how it would have been if she had had brothers, and she felt a sort of deep love for them all.

  Finally, she said her goodbyes and told them that she would return in the New Year. It was with mixed joy and sadness that she left the group, knowing that some of them would be gone when she returned, and that new men would be there to replace them.

  She briefly went upstairs to wish the other students a Merry Christmas. Ernest sat in the chair next to his bed, laughing with the young Red Cross volunteer. He was excited to be getting out of the hospital in a few days, and briefly told Lillian his plans for the holidays – though the looks that passed between him and the volunteer suggested that some of his time would be spent with her. Lillian wished him well, and said goodbye to the others she had instructed over the past few weeks.

  When Lillian knocked at the babysitter’s door, Mrs. Kuntzman greeted her with tin of freshly baked cookies.

  “These are ones we didn’t eat,” she said, laughing along with Tommy and Gabriel.

  When they arrived home, Lillian placed the tin in the basket of goodies she had prepared for the boys’ train ride upstate with Bernie and Danny.

  Tommy and Gabriel expected her to still be angry at them and were surprised when she clasped her hands in excitement.

  “Since this is our last chance to celebrate Christmas here before you leave with your Uncle Bernie tomorrow, how about we use up the last of our firewood and make a fire, and have some hot chocolate?”

  “Can we?” asked Gabriel, eyes wide with disbelief.

  Tommy smiled up at her.

  Lillian nodded and kissed their faces. “And I just happened to pick up a box of marshmallows yesterday at Mancetti’s.”

  Soon, the three of them sat in front of the fire, listening to Christmas music on the radio, and sometimes singing along with the songs. There were her darling boys – Tommy with a bruised cheek, Gabriel with a black eye – singing as sweetly as angels. They both had beautiful voices. Tommy’s was deepening and developing a rich tone to it; Gabriel’s was still high and clear.

  Lillian had noticed a pensive air in Tommy lately, but when she asked him what was on his mind, he just shook his head. Now, as the fire died down, she saw the same look as he gazed into the embers. She knew he was weighing something in his mind.

  “Okay, boys, time for bed. Go brush your teeth.”

  Gabriel jumped up and ran to the bathroom. “Me first.”

  Lillian took their cups to the sink and saw that Tommy was going through the basket of food and taking some items out.

  “Tommy, what are you doing? Those are for the train ride tomorrow.”

  “I’m just taking a few things out so Gabriel doesn’t eat them all before I get there.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m going on Saturday – with you.”

  Lillian waited for an explanation, but he remained silent. “Tommy, it’s all settled. Bernie and Danny will be here tomorrow and are expecting you and Gabriel.”

  He turned to her with an expression that she had never seen in him before – older, determined.

  “I have to go back, Mom. Back to that ward. There’s Christmas caroling scheduled there for Saturday. We can catch the train right after it – I already checked the schedule. I have to be there, Mom. I want – I want to sing for them.”

  Lillian draped her arm around him. “Oh, Tommy. I don’t want you going back there. It’s too upsetting for you to see.”

  He raised his face to hers. “There will be some adults with me. I have to do it.”

  She spoke gently to him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “I have to, Mom. For me – and for them. I can’t explain it, but I have to do it.”

  Lillian kissed the top of his head. “Well, sleep on it. It’s okay if you want to change your mind. But if you decide that you still want to, then I’ll go there with you.”

  Chapter 16

  *

  Christmas was just a few days away now, and Ursula was happy about the snow that began to fall. They would have a white Christmas. Ursula believed that the holiday would provide some time for her and Friedrich to be together. Her mother was planning a special Christmas lunch for the prisoners, and Ursula expected to find some time to be alone with Friedrich, to continue their conversations, to be in his arms again.

  But now, as she sat at the kitchen table mending clothes, her eyes were fixed on the window, her heart tight with anxiety. It was late morning and Otto still had not arrived with the prisoners. A thousand scenarios ran through her mind, none of them good.

  When she finally saw his truck coming up the lane, she tensed even more. It wasn’t until she saw Otto park the truck, and Friedrich and the others get out of the back, that she was able to breathe normally. It had probably been a flat tire or some other simple explanation she hadn’t considered.

  A few moments later, Otto knocked at the door. Kate answered it and asked him to step inside.

  “It’s about the POWs,” he said.

  “Not bad news, I hope?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid they’re being transferred up north to the canneries, at least until spring. S’far as I can make out, they’ll be back to help with the planting. Course, there’s no way of knowing for sure.” He held his hat in his hand the whole time, running the brim round and around through his fingers.

  Kate was silent for several moments, and then nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry to hear it. Do you know when?” She had been mentally prepared for the news and had already planned how to deal with it. She assumed it would be sometime in the New Year.

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Otto said, his hands finally coming to a stop. “I’m afraid they leave tomorrow.”

  Ursula gasped, and they both turned to her at the table.

  “I – I pricked my finger,” she said, putting it in her mouth.

  Ed came up to the porch just then, and Kate opened the door for him.

  “You heard?” she asked.

  “Yep. Otto told me.”

  Ed remained on the porch, and Kate and Otto joined him out there. They stood quietly, looking over at the barn, out at the fields, then down at the g
round.

  The prisoners stood outside the barn, their postures revealing sad resignation.

  Ed finally broke the silence. “S’pose it makes the most sense to finish getting the supplies for the barn and sheds. It’s ready to be picked up. That way I can finish up on the repairs later. Maybe we can get some of the Cahill boys to help out – they’re young, but strong.”

  Kate nodded and crossed her arms. Though the repairs were on her mind, it was something else that tugged at her heart. The three young men had brought life back to the farm, and she was reluctant to see them go. She had already taken out the lace tablecloth for the Christmas lunch she was planning, and had been going over the menu in her mind, imagining the happiness on their faces. The farm would be so quiet without their presence. She decided then and there to get them back in the spring, no matter how many letters she had to write, no matter how much of a pest she had to make of herself.

  “We don’t got much time,” said Otto, looking up at the sky. “We’ll grab lunch in town. Pick up the materials, get the lumber cut, bring it back, and unload it. I gotta get the lads back early today. It’ll be a push, but I think we can do it.” He and Ed walked over to the barn, and spoke with the prisoners.

  Ursula had come out onto the porch. This was not at all what she had envisioned. She thought she would be able to say goodbye to Friedrich, to find out where he was going, and be able to spend a few private moments with him. All that was suddenly ripped from her. She grasped the porch rail, hoping to catch a glimpse of Friedrich, to find some means of exchange.

  But Kate wrapped her arm around Ursula’s shoulder. “There goes the Christmas lunch we were planning for them. Come on inside. Let’s at least bake them some Christmas cookies to take with them.”

  Ursula looked behind her as Kate opened the kitchen door. A worried glance between her and Friedrich was all they had before the truck pulled out onto the lane.

  Shirley had come over in the afternoon and was going to spend the night, and for once, Ursula was glad for the constant chatter and giggling that went on between her and Jessica. It helped to cover her silence and distraction. She tried to think of some way to be alone with Friedrich – but could come up with nothing that wouldn’t attract attention. She briefly considered slipping him a note, but decided against the risk.

  Ed and the others had barely returned from town and unloaded the materials before Otto was urging them to hurry, as he had to get them back to camp.

  Kate saw that all the prisoners were sad to go. They didn’t know if they would return, or what awaited them where they were going. She stood on the porch and smiled bravely, and told them that she would do her best to make sure they came back in the spring.

  “We baked you some Christmas cookies to take with you, even if you have to eat them on the ride to town.” She took one of the bundles tied up in red calico and gave it to Gustav, then waited for Jessica and Ursula to hand out the others.

  Ursula had positioned herself close to Friedrich, and when she handed him the small bundle, she linked her fingers with his under the cloth.

  Otto then pulled the truck in front of the house and tooted the horn.

  A few goodbyes and wishes for a happy Christmas – and they were gone. Suddenly gone.

  The snow-covered farmyard filled with silence and cold.

  Once the truck was at the end of the lane, the others went back inside. But Ursula stood on the porch, trembling. She watched the truck turn onto the country road, and disappear into the distance.

  *

  Ursula cried herself asleep that night, miserable at their separation. If only she could have held him one more time, if only he could have assured her once more that he would get word to her, if only . . .

  She was awoken by a soft sound at her window. She opened her eyes, and was puzzled by the soft glow outside. It had been dark when she went to bed: the moon was near full, but the sky was cloudy and the night should have been dark.

  Curious, she went to her window, parted the curtains – and caught her breath in surprise. The fir tree beneath her window that she and Friedrich had decorated was all aglow! Tiny candles were clipped to its branches, softly illuminating the tree and casting a glittery golden skirt on the snow around it. It was the most magical thing she had ever seen.

  She raised the window, and leaned out, searching for Friedrich. He stepped out of the shadows and looked up at her. And in the soft glow of the Christmas tree, for one brief moment, the world was a sweet, enchanted place. He placed his fist on his heart.

  She placed her hand over her heart and nodded in agreement. Then she lightly kissed her fingertips and sent her kiss out to him. He did the same, and she held his gaze for what she knew would be the last time for several months, if not longer.

  A light from another window caused him to step back into the shadows.

  “Ursula! Mom!” cried Jessica from her room. “Come and see what Otto did!”

  Soon Ursula heard the commotion of Jessica and Shirley putting on shoes and running down the stairs. Then she heard them all go out onto the front porch. Giggling and comments of surprise and wonder drifted up to Ursula.

  “Just look at that!” said Kate, filled with delight. “Otto told me that he had been buying candles, German candles, for them. I guess they put him up to it.”

  Jessica looked down the lane. “He must have lit them and driven right off.”

  “Ursula!” cried Kate, pulling her jacket closer around her shoulders. “Come down and see!”

  But Ursula had her eyes fixed on her beloved, watching as he crossed the dark fields and headed back to camp.

  He turned once when the moonlight broke through the clouds and looked back at her – then he disappeared into the shadows.

  When she could no longer see him, she returned her gaze to the softly illuminated tree, taking in the farewell gift of beauty he had risked to bring to her.

  Chapter 17

  *

  The Christmas hospital show was held in the late afternoon. With trepidation that she was making the wrong decision, Lillian allowed Tommy to participate in the caroling that would be performed in the ward with serious injuries.

  It was a small group of older men and women who sang the carols – a few older vets and their wives, and two other women, one of them a nurse. They were familiar with the tragic results of war and had tried to dissuade Tommy from joining them. But he had been adamant and convinced them that he could do it.

  Lillian entered the room and stood near the door. She watched as an elderly doctor finished his rounds with the patients. He smiled when he saw Tommy and came and placed his hand on his shoulder and said a few words.

  After a round of several carols, the coordinator introduced Tommy to the patients, and announced that he wanted to sing for them.

  Tommy moved to the middle of the room, and started to crack his knuckles – but then he became conscious of what he was doing and placed his hands at his sides.

  Lillian broke into a sweat on seeing Tommy all alone, trying to start the song. What if he fainted, or got sick, or broke into tears?

  But her fears were unfounded.

  Tommy stood straight, and in a rich, clear tone, he began to sing “Silent Night.” His lone voice filled the room.

  Tears shot to Lillian’s eyes on seeing him standing there, both strong and vulnerable, brave and humble. She had never heard him sing so beautifully, his voice so pure.

  Round yon Virgin Mother and Child, Holy Infant so tender and mild – as if he were delivering a divine message of mother love to all the men who lay wounded and helpless in their beds. She heard the words afresh and was moved by their tender simplicity.

  A shiver went through her as Tommy reached and held the high notes with ease. Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace. He seemed to enter some sphere of love and compassion where the human heart is able to reach out and touch the hearts of others.

  When he began another verse, Lillian looked around at the patie
nts and was moved by their faces. Some were seemingly stoic, but tears ran down their cheeks. Others gently smiled in appreciation. A few moved their lips to the words. Some listened with closed eyes.

  The song ended. Absolute silence followed. Then applause, and a few wiped tears, Tommy’s lopsided grin when the doctor came up and shook his hand.

  The carolers then sang “Deck the Halls” and finished up with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” while they passed around Christmas treats. Tommy followed, going from bed to bed, sometimes shaking hands, sometimes shyly speaking with the patients.

  After going up and down the aisles of beds, Tommy turned to look at Lillian – and was surprised that she wasn’t there.

  He said his goodbyes, and then went out into the hall. She was sitting on a bench, holding a handkerchief to her eyes and trying not to cry.

  “Jeez, Mom, stop crying.” Tommy looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Come on, Mom. We have to hurry if we want to catch the train.”

  *

  Lillian and Tommy rushed through Grand Central Station, their eyes on the clock as they waited in line to purchase their tickets.

  Then they hurried onto the crowded platform and joined the stream of holiday travelers that bumped and jostled their way onto the train.

  Lillian and Tommy moved from one crowded car to another, until they finally found two seats together. Tommy slid in by the window, and within a few minutes, the “All aboard!” was sounded, the doors closed, and the train started to chug its way out of the station.

  After a half hour or so of settling in – taking his coat off and then putting it back on, munching on one of the snacks, and making a half-hearted attempt to read a comic book – Tommy quieted down and let his gaze settle on the darkening landscape passing by outside.

  Lillian worried that he had slipped back into that pensive mood, but whenever she asked him anything or caught his eye, he smiled and seemed to be happy.

  She nestled back into her seat. Finally, they were on their way. To her sister’s, to a Christmas in the country, away from all the stress and strife – at least for a while. She was glad that a few red bows were pinned between the train’s windows, glad that someone had made an attempt to lift the spirits in such dark times.