BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  The boys nodded. This was valuable intel.

  “If it does come up in conversation, many grownups will tell you that they weren’t Nazis but that other Germans were. That’s probably wishful thinking. Many Germans were Nazis but no longer want to admit it.”

  The commander went on, “Some people might want to pretend the war never happened, but you’ll see reminders everywhere. Whole towns and cities were destroyed by the bombing runs and fighting. Some have been rebuilt since the war, but you’re sure to see blown-up buildings and other scars of war.”

  Jack had already lived in a country ravaged by war—Japan. But he had been young so his memories were vague.

  “How come the Germans don’t hold it against us?” asked Alex.

  “For the sake of world peace we’ve had to learn to get along. Today the Germans are our friends. At least, most of them are. I think you will find them quite friendly toward Americans nowadays.”

  “If they’re our friends now, then why do we have all those bases in Germany?” asked Jack.

  “We are here to prevent another war,” was all Commander Allen said. “If the world has a hotspot, it’s Germany.” Then he said no more.

  Jack had heard that tone before. It meant, “And that’s all I’ll say.” That left him with new questions and no answers. How could the country that caused World War II now be our friend? Why were US troops here to prevent a war? Germany certainly sounded intriguing.

  “Here’s the most important thing to know: Whatever you do here in Germany, you are not just a bunch of kids running around. Listen to me closely. Always remember you represent the United States Military and, more importantly, the United States of America. That matters. Represent your country well. You will meet many people, and not just Germans, but people from all over Europe. Never forget you symbolize the best of America.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said together.

  As a brat, Jack had to say it. But part of him meant it, too, because he knew he represented America. And, because he was very interested in this Germany that Commander Allen had been talking about.

  After dessert came the goodbyes. It wasn’t hard to shake hands and say goodbye to Commander Allen and his officers, or to Alex’s family. But it was hard to say goodbye to Ernie, and definitely tough for Jack to say goodbye to Alex.

  Goodbyes are the one thing brats never get good at, but Alex was better than most. He simply said, “I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but I hope I do.”

  Jack’s tight lips managed a smile. “Me, too. And if not, I hope, at least, I’ll see you in my dreams.”

  And with that, the best friends went their separate ways.

  After that, things moved along pretty fast. Back at their cabin, they put on their best clothes to be ready to meet Lt. Col. McMasters and look sharp, act sharp, be sharp.

  Hearing passengers pass the door, Rabbit was wild to leave, but Mrs. McMasters was firm. “Rabbit, this is one day you will walk quietly by me and never drop my hand. Do I make myself understood? I want you to look as neat and clean when we meet your father as you do right this moment.”

  Rabbit grinned. “But then he won’t know it’s me.”

  When they opened the door, their mother’s objective made perfect sense. Under no circumstances did she want Rabbit swept off in the river of people walking to the lower deck. But Rabbit surprised them by calmly taking her mother’s left hand. (That was the hand farthest away from Ernie’s goodbye donut bulging from the pocket of Rabbit’s Sunday coat.)

  Jack hoped for one more glimpse of Alex on the crowded deck, but all too soon he was walking down the gangplank to Germany, and even greater adventures.

  Part II

  4th Armored Division

  9

  Wunderland

  Lieutenant Colonel McMasters stood very erect at the end of the pier, watching his family approach. He was tall, with a strong jaw and attractive, hazel eyes that missed nothing. The colonel was good looking, but what stood out most was his military bearing. The man had command presence. When the kids finally spotted him, they started running, Mrs. McMasters not far behind. He kissed his wife, hugged the girls, and shook hands with Jack.

  “How was the crossing?” Lt. Col. McMasters said, as they immediately headed for the luggage.

  “It was perfectly fine. And the children conducted themselves very well,” Mrs. McMasters said.

  “Perfectly fine!” exploded Rabbit. “It was for us, but Mom puked most of the trip.”

  That kid was always such a mouth.

  “Really?” Lt. Col. McMasters said, with genuine concern.

  His wife gave a reassuring smile. “I’m perfectly fine now that we’re back on dry land.”

  “You never did like the ocean, Lorraine,” he said to her. “I missed you. And I’m proud of you for making the crossing with the children.” Clearly he was as delighted with her as she was with him. Those two had always been tight.

  Pausing, he bent down and looked the children in the eye. “And how was your crossing?”

  Jack couldn’t read his look. Was it one of real interest, or were they about to get cross examined? Would this conversation end well or would their father quickly flare up?

  Queenie said, “We had a great time, Dad. The ship was fun. It had a movie theater, a game room, and even a snack bar.” Leave it to Queenie to try to control where the conversation went so the colonel knew everything had gone well and that there was nothing he needed to concern himself with. She finished with, “So tell us about Germany.”

  “Do you like it?” asked Jack.

  “Am I gonna like it, Dad?” Rabbit was bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready to bolt across the entire country.

  Lt. Col. McMasters chuckled. “Wow, hold your horses, everyone. You’ll see soon enough. And, yes, indeed, I like Germany. And I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it, too. Now, guess where we’re going first?”

  “To our new house?” asked Rabbit.

  “No.”

  “To a hotel?” suggested Mrs. McMasters, flashing him a smile.

  “Well, no.” He smiled back, almost regretfully. “What’s your guess, Jack?”

  “No clue. How about a restaurant?”

  “Hungry as always, I see. But you’re wrong, too,” he said with obvious delight. “We have a train to catch, and along the way there’ll be a surprise. But don’t pester me about it. You’ll see when you see.”

  As they joined the line of passengers wanting luggage, Mrs. McMasters handed her husband the claim checks. He smiled at her efficiency.

  Queenie was the first to have eyes on their bags. Sooner than seemed possible, they were in a big Navy van that the colonel had arranged to take them to the station. As it drove off the US Naval base, each kid was hyper aware they were entering a different country. This wasn’t like going on vacation. They weren’t off for a weekend lark. They were going to live in this foreign place! Jack didn’t notice he was squeezing his thighs together as he sat scrunched up. He had already cycled through excitement, to dread, to overwhelming uncertainty, and so far their vehicle was only one block beyond the main gate.

  Why he felt the need to absorb everything immediately is anyone’s guess—but he did. Jack wanted to digest this new world, understand it, make it part of him. His frustration came from knowing it couldn’t be done, at least not quickly.

  “Look at how small the German cars are, Jack,” said Lt. Col. McMasters.

  Three young faces pressed up against the van’s windows. The buildings looked strange, too. They were mostly three stories tall and made of beige or light-yellow stucco with gray-tiled roofs. At most windows were flower boxes filled with cold-loving pine boughs. The kids imagined them spilling with spring flowers.

  But for Jack something was missing. “Dad, where are all the Nazi flags? In pictures of Germany there are alw
ays hundreds of those flags with the swastika.”

  Lt. Col. McMasters seemed to hesitate. “A lot has changed since the war. Since it ended, the Nazi flag and the swastika have been systematically removed. You won’t see many of them anymore. Today the German flag is three strips of black, red, and yellow. “

  “Look at how clean all the windows are,” observed Mrs. McMasters. Queenie shot Jack a glance that said, Please don’t tell me this whole country is made up of white glove mothers.

  “Look at all the bikes!” Rabbit shouted, as their vehicle swung onto a busier street.

  “And not just for kids,” said Queenie. “Ladies are biking in dresses. Are those groceries in their front baskets? It’s like they don’t have cars for shopping.”

  “And men are in suits with briefcases on the back of their bikes,” said Jack. “They must not drive to—”

  Their vehicle came to an abrupt halt—clearly not at the train station.

  The driver said, “Sorry, sir, but with that truck blocking our way, I can’t get through.”

  Lt. Col. McMasters studied an old, broken-down truck in front of them. Irritated, he snapped at the young driver, “What are you telling me, seaman?”

  Not sure how to respond, and worried he was about to get reamed out, the driver lamely blurted out, “Well, sir, I can’t get you any closer.”

  “How far is the station?” McMasters demanded, losing patience.

  “Four blocks, sir.”

  The colonel’s head swung around to the kids. “Okay, everyone, let’s move out. We’re going to walk it.”

  Each kid picked up his or her personal suitcase and a family suitcase, trying to look like they weren’t too heavy to carry. Jack thought about sliding his bags in front of him down the sidewalk, the way he had on the deck of the Upshur, but the colonel kept turning around to them, still pointing out the tiny cars, mostly Opals and Volkswagens. Jack knew his father would have caught him. Anyway, the sidewalks were rough cobblestone—no good for sliding. It dawned on Jack that there wasn’t an American car in sight. In fact, he noted there weren’t many cars of any kind. But when a big, shiny, black Mercedes convertible with long swooping fenders and a lot of sparkling chrome glided past, everyone stopped to look, and Jack had a chance to drop his bags and roll his shoulders.

  As they slogged their way through the huge, old station made of wrought iron and glass, they could smell diesel fuel and see steam coming off the trains. “Well, at least the windows on the roof of this place are dirty,” Jack whispered to Queenie. “I was beginning to think everything in this whole country was spotlessly clean.”

  “Not good,” she whispered back. “Mom’s gonna get even worse living here and—”

  A scratchy voice interrupted over a loudspeaker. The kids stared at each other. The announcement was in no language they’d ever heard. Every word was strange. They definitely weren’t in the good old U S of A anymore.

  “Are they speaking German?” Queenie’s question came out more like a disgruntled grunt than she had intended. But she couldn’t help it. Her arms ached, and she was breathing too hard for it to be a normal tone of voice. She immediately checked to see if her father had noticed.

  “Of course,” said Lt. Col. McMasters, not seeming to have noticed. “You’ll learn some of it very quickly.”

  Queenie shot Jack a look like, Oh yeah, I’m gonna learn that gobbledygook.

  Once on the train, they were met by a conductor, and for the first time the children heard Lt. Col. McMasters speak German. That was yet another shock. It had never occurred to them their father could speak a foreign language.

  How’d he learn how to do that? Jack wondered. But after cycling it through his brain a couple of times, he put it together. His dad hadn’t magically learned to speak German in just the last few months. His dad had been in Germany during the war. Even so, it startled Jack. Every time he thought he had the ol’ man figured out, something like this happened. His father was, well, a challenge, and often intimidating. But sometimes he was also amazing.

  For the briefest moment, Jack wondered if his dad would be proud of him if he learned German.

  The immaculately uniformed conductor listened to the colonel very carefully. Giving a slight bow, he led them off to a special private compartment in one of the cars. Their parents began to talk happily, sitting opposite each other on overstuffed bench seats covered in dark velvet. It didn’t take long for the train to start rolling. The children made a quick exit to go explore.

  From the windows along the corridor they watched as the train pulled out of the huge station. It passed through the inner city of Bremerhaven, and on to the outskirts.

  “Wow! Those are bombed-out buildings,” Jack said to his sisters in a low voice. Several apartment buildings, and what looked like the remnant of an old church, were now abandoned heaps of rubble.

  “That’s got to be from the war,” whispered Queenie, staring. “It’s not the same as seeing it in pictures, is it? I mean, it’s right there. Think about it—people were living in those apartments.”

  “Was somebody killed when it blew up?” asked Rabbit.

  Every military brat heard plenty about World War II, but suddenly that war was starting to look a lot more real to the McMasters children. As the train rumbled on, one and then another of them would yell, “There’s one!” as they spotted more destroyed buildings. They’d never seen anything like this. With each new pile that had once been a house, Queenie and Jack felt more and more uneasy.

  Rabbit ran off, but Jack and Queenie couldn’t look away.

  “What if we’d been living in that house during the war?” Queenie wondered aloud. “I can’t imagine what it would be like, going to bed every night not knowing if you and your family were going to get blown up, or shot by soldiers. Whoever lived there, well, they lived in fear of being invaded.”

  Jack looked at her, thinking about it. War had always seemed like it was somewhere else. “Remember when Commander Allen said Dad was in Germany to prevent another war? Do you think there will be a war and we’ll be the ones going to bed at night not knowing if our house is gonna get blown up?”

  “Dunno.” This wasn’t the usual self-assured Queenie.

  The train picked up speed as they moved into the countryside. Suddenly, there was no more destruction, and everything became beautiful. Even though it was late autumn, there was still a lot of green against a very blue sky. The rich, dark earth of the farm fields were plowed in perfectly straight rows. The train passed through unbelievable forests, with dark green fir trees and sunlight coming through the bare branches of other huge trees. The kids couldn’t believe how perfect this part was. Germany was beautiful, even if it showed the ugly scars of war.

  The train felt very different from the ship. Where the ship had rocked back and forth in big swells but seemed to hardly move, the train did the opposite. They were no longer moving at twenty-two knots; they were flying across the countryside at almost a hundred miles an hour, often lurching from side to side so violently that the kids had to grab anything solid just to keep from getting thrown down.

  Coming back to Jack and Queenie, Rabbit butted in, “I’m tired of all this scenery schmeenery. Let’s go explore.”

  They headed toward the rear of the train, with Rabbit in front. But when she reached the back of the car, she couldn’t budge the heavy door leading to the next.

  “Out of the way,” demanded Jack. Pulling with all his strength, he managed to heave it open—only to be blasted by frigid air and deafening noise. The door hadn’t opened directly into the next train car. If they wanted to get there, they would have to cross a short walkway and go through another heavy door. Jack could hear the clattering of the train wheels on the tracks below. The walls of the walkway were like the folds of an accordion with wind whipping through. Jack took a deep breath and moved out, only to find as he crossed that th
e metal floor shifted from side to side, almost knocking him over. He grabbed for the far door and shoved it open.

  “Wow, that was nutso!” exclaimed Queenie, as she followed Rabbit inside.

  “Let’s do it again!” said Rabbit, delighted.

  The first two cars they passed through had private compartments like theirs. The cars beyond had rows and rows of double seats. As they moved through them, the passengers seemed to pay them a little too much attention, which made Jack and Queenie slightly uncomfortable. Some passengers showed just a hint of dislike. Others seemed nice enough, saying, “Guten Tag.” The kids had no idea what that meant, so they just nodded politely and kept moving through the car, passing a conductor checking tickets.

  Jack looked back. “Some of those Germans didn’t seem happy to see us.”

  “Yeah,” said Queenie, “like they definitely don’t like us being here.”

  When they finally came to what they figured was the back of the train, they found a locked door. Unable to get any farther, they positioned themselves about ten feet from the door, looking out the windows. To anyone passing by they appeared innocent enough, but of course they had actually gone into intel mode. After all, no self-respecting brat was going to leave a locked door unexplored.

  While they watched the fabulous German countryside pass by, they kept a wary eye on what was happening on board. But eventually the clattering train and the beautiful scenery lulled them into a dream-like state, and they almost missed it when the conductor slipped past them. Fortunately, Queenie glanced up at the last moment and saw the man unlock the door with a giant brass key. She elbowed Jack and nodded over at the guy before he slipped through the door.

  “What d’ya think he’s doing back there?”

  “No clue, but let’s hang out here. When he comes back out, let’s try and grab the door before it closes.” Jack pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and gave it to Rabbit. “Take this and when the conductor comes back out, jam it in the door so it doesn’t close all the way. But be sure to wait till he’s past you before making your move.”