by Lynn Austin
“Ja. Everyone knows how they persecute Jews.”
“If the Nazis win this country, they will do the same. You and me and Miriam, we must get out.”
“Where would we go?” She was clearly frightened as she looked from Abba to Miriam, twisting her knotted hands.
Abba stood again. “Maybe to Belgium. Maybe they will let us cross to France or Spain—”
“They invaded Belgium, too,” Mrs. Spielman said.
Abba stared at her, swaying as if dumbstruck by the news. “Then . . . then there is no way out,” he mumbled in German. “We are surrounded. Germany on one side, Belgium on the other . . .”
“We could cross the channel to England,” Miriam said. “Surely the British will change their immigration laws and give us refuge there. Maybe the Americans or Canadians will finally let us come to their countries.”
Abba shook his head. “Remember that ship full of Jewish refugees? The Americans and Canadians both turned those people away. More than nine hundred passengers—desperate men, women, and children—forced to return to Nazi hands.”
“So there’s no place to go?” Miriam asked. “There must be someone who’ll take pity on us. Why doesn’t the world see what the Nazis are doing and how desperate we are?”
“We escaped from them once, Miriam. We can do it again.”
Miriam saw his determination and believed he would find a way. “But I don’t want to go without Avi. Can’t we wait until we get a letter from him and find out what’s happening to him at Westerbork?”
“Who knows how long a letter will take to get here with a war on? By then, it may be too late. We will be trapped again. Like your mother is.” He sounded close to tears. “We must go upstairs, Mrs. Spielman, and decide what to do,” he said, speaking in Dutch again.
“I’ll keep listening to the news and let you know if anything else happens.” She sounded dispirited. Abba had upset her. She remained in her chair as they made their way to the door. “Watch out for the cat when you leave . . . ,” she called after them.
Abba was right. They should run before the Nazis caught up with them again. But how could Miriam leave without Avi? And where could they go? She helped her father upstairs as if leading a blind man, his words echoing in her heart and stealing her breath: “How long do you think it will be before they do the same things to us here . . . ?”
CHAPTER 15
The fact that Eloise had barely spoken since they’d come down from the roof worried Ans more than her manic chatter had. They listened to the radio in the front room, sitting side by side on the sofa as news of what was happening slowly trickled in. The Nazis had invaded at three o’clock that morning, targeting airfields and destroying nearly all of the Dutch army’s aircraft before they had a chance to take off. Thousands of Nazi paratroopers had landed near Amsterdam. More had landed outside Den Haag, intending to capture the queen and government officials. The Dutch army was fighting back, but they were badly out-armed and had already sustained many casualties. Please, not Papa or Erik.
At times, Eloise would rise and pace the length of the room as she listened, muttering to herself. Sometimes she would stop and part the draperies to look out the front window before returning to her seat beside Ans, gripping her hand until Ans’s fingers ached.
As the sun rose and the terrible news repeated endlessly, Ans had switched off the radio. “Let’s get dressed. Professor Huizenga will know more when he gets home.”
She helped Eloise change out of her ruined nightgown, then quickly got dressed herself, afraid to leave her alone for more than a minute, afraid she would run upstairs to the roof again. “Come into the kitchen with me while I make breakfast.”
“Who can eat at a time like this?”
Ans couldn’t stop thinking about Papa and Erik, wondering if they were all right and if she would ever see them again.
Sirens wailed as morning turned into afternoon, and planes continued to roar overhead, sometimes flying so low that the windows rattled. Eloise refused to do something to take her mind off the news, such as reading a book or listening to the gramophone.
“I can’t concentrate, Ans. I’m so worried about Herman. If anything happens to him, I don’t think I can go on. Why doesn’t he call?”
“I’m sure he will as soon as he can. Maybe the telephone lines are down.”
“He’s in Den Haag, Ans, where the fighting is!”
“I think you should take some of your medicine. I’m worried about you.”
Eloise lowered the volume on the radio and turned to look at Ans, her eyes oddly bright and alert. “I’m going to do everything differently this time. I was so fearful the last time, and I let the war overwhelm me. Mother and Father worked with the Resistance, and my brother fought in the trenches. They were strong and brave, and they lost their lives, but I was a coward. I was afraid to die.”
“I’m sure there were a lot of people who were afraid—”
“This time I know better. I know that dying isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me. Doing nothing and losing everyone I love is the worst thing. That’s why I’m going to fight back this time. Are you with me, Ans?”
She didn’t know what to say. If she agreed to fight, she feared Eloise might do something crazy like rush out into the street and chase down the Nazis with a carving knife. Yet Eloise needed to know that Ans was her friend. “How can we fight back?” she finally said. “We don’t have any weapons. Shouldn’t we let the Dutch army do the fighting?”
“I don’t want to alarm you, Ans, but they aren’t going to win. The Nazis are going to conquer the Netherlands just like they’ve conquered everyone else.”
“Please, God . . . no . . .”
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Eloise said, “Praying won’t help. I already told you that. But once the Nazis take over, there are lots of things that civilians like us can do. So are you with me?”
It occurred to Ans that Eloise might be able to battle her depression better if she had another enemy to fight. “Yes, of course I’m with you. But you’ll have to teach me what to do.”
“We won’t be the only ones. Others will fight back too. We—”
The telephone rang, interrupting her. Eloise raced to answer it. “Hello? . . . Herman! I’m so relieved! Are you all right, darling? Where are you? . . . When are you coming home? . . . I see . . . No, don’t put yourself in danger. We’re fine here . . . No, don’t worry about us . . . I love you, too, my darling . . . Yes, just a minute . . .” She put her hand over the receiver and turned to Ans. “Herman is still in Den Haag and can’t get out because of the fighting. He wants to talk to you.”
Ans took the receiver. “Hello, Professor Huizenga.”
“How is Eloise? Is she okay?”
“Yes, so far.” She decided not to worry him by mentioning their trip to the rooftop. Besides, Eloise was standing right beside her.
“Listen, Ans, I don’t know when I’ll be able to get home. Please keep Eloise in the house where it’s safe. And promise me you won’t let her out of your sight for a moment! Especially if she starts to spiral down.”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Promise what?” Eloise asked after Ans hung up.
“That we would both stay inside where it’s safe. I think that means no more trips to the roof.” They returned to the radio in the front room, but Ans was no longer listening to it.
She knew she had turned away from the church for the past few years, but she still believed in God. Would He even listen to her prayers now that she and the people she loved were in danger, or would He ignore her the way she’d been ignoring Him? Ans wanted to believe that Eloise was wrong and that God would hear her prayers.
Papa had read the Bible aloud after dinner for as long as Ans could recall, and the story that came to mind now was the Prodigal Son. The father who ran down the road to welcome his son home was God. He would forgive Ans and welcome her home if she told Him she was sorry. And she was sorry! Sh
e needed His help.
As the radio blathered on, Ans silently prayed for her country. For Papa and Erik. For her family. And she prayed that God would help her fulfill her promise to Professor Huizenga to keep Eloise safe.
CHAPTER 16
By Sunday, the third day after the invasion, the Dutch army was still fighting valiantly, in spite of the Nazis’ superior weapons. Lena had kept the radio on constantly as she did her chores, trying to remain calm so the children wouldn’t be frightened. Wim acted brave but he was only twelve years old. And Maaike had been having nightmares and wanted to sleep with Lena. But so far, Lena’s hope had remained alive as she’d prayed for Pieter.
An announcement came over the radio that the queen and her ministry officials were fleeing across the channel to England to form a government in exile. Lena was clearing the breakfast table, and the news stole her breath. “She abandoned us!” she said aloud. “The queen abandoned us to our enemies!” She sat down heavily, her strength gone. Was this the end of their country? How could the queen give up hope and leave when Pieter and the other brave soldiers were still fighting? The queen’s desertion struck Lena like news of a death.
She stood again when her strength returned and called to Wim and Maaike. “Put on your Sunday clothes. We’re going to church.”
Since the invasion on Friday morning, Lena had been afraid to leave the house with Nazi bombers and fighter planes crisscrossing the skies, but now she put her concerns aside, desperate for friends to talk to. The truck bounced as she sped down the unpaved road, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached town. But she was surprised to see a motley array of vehicles blocking the narrow main street. Most were farm vehicles loaded with bundles and crates and household goods. Hundreds of refugees filled the market square, mostly elderly people, women, and children.
Lena parked the truck in the only spot she could find and hurried toward the square, holding Maaike’s hand. Wim sprinted ahead to where Papa stood on the church steps in his black liturgical robe and white collar, shouting as he invited everyone to come inside the church.
“Lena! I was going to call you,” he said when she and Maaike reached him.
“What’s going on?”
“They opened the dikes to stop the Nazis, and all of these families were flooded out of their homes. I got a call from a pastor in Amersfoort, asking if our church would take some of them.”
“I’ll take a family,” she said.
“I was hoping you would.”
Lena steered Wim and Maaike ahead of her into the sanctuary, and by the time the villagers and refugees also made their way inside, the building was packed. The elders were bustling around the chancel, preparing to serve Communion, and it seemed like an odd time for the sacrament amid all the chaos of war. The worship service began, and the words of the hymns and the sound of voices surrounding her lifted Lena’s spirits, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “O God, our help in ages past . . .”
“It’s natural to wonder where God is in times like these,” Papa said as he broke the bread for the sacrament of Communion. “He is here, in Christ’s broken body and spilled blood. He understands our suffering and confusion. He is here, with us.” Lena ate the Communion bread, desperate to feel God’s presence, to know He was with her, beside her.
After the service, she helped her father and the deacons assign refugee families to the various parishioners who’d volunteered to house them. Lena took in the Zylstra family. Tina, who was in her midthirties, was with her three boys ages four, six, and ten, and her mother-in-law. Tina’s husband, like Lena’s, was fighting in the army. Lena would have taken a second family, but so many people came forward to volunteer that it wasn’t necessary.
Tina had pulled a loaded farm wagon behind her truck with crates of squawking chickens tied on top of the swaying load. “We emptied our root cellar and smokehouse,” she explained, “and brought everything with us. No one knows how long we’ll be away.”
“What about your dairy cows?”
“We set them free in our highest pasture, farthest from the dike. There wasn’t time to take them anywhere else, and besides, where could they go? Now we must hope for the best.”
Lena became anxious on the ride home from the village, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the flat, open countryside. It was taking too long, their progress slowed by the heavy farm wagon and muddy road. She longed to be home, to be safe. But was any place truly safe? A deadly war was raging across her nation, and these refugee families had made it real to Lena, bringing the war to her village, her farm. Pieter wasn’t the only one who was battling the enemy. Everyone was being swept up in the fight.
Suddenly she heard the murderous roar of enemy aircraft approaching, coming in low and fast overhead. Her instinct was to press the accelerator to the floor and race home. But no, she needed to slam on the brakes and yell to the children to jump from the truck into the ditch. Before she could do either, the planes thundered by overhead and were gone, leaving Lena shaking and furious and struggling not to weep. Wim and Maaike were looking at her, their eyes wide. Maaike had her hands over her ears.
Lena exhaled, her heart still pounding. She squeezed Maaike’s knee. “It’s all right. We’re all right.” For their sakes, she couldn’t surrender to fear.
Her knees were still trembling as she parked in her barnyard. The Zylstras’ truck halted behind hers. “Your farm is very beautiful,” Tina said as she looked around. “I don’t know what will be left of ours.”
Lena’s fear slowly settled into place along with the settling dust. They unloaded the farm wagon, and Wim set the Zylstras’ chickens loose in the fenced yard with Lena’s hens. But as Lena worked, a deep, bottomless rage began building inside her, a hatred greater than any she’d ever known. No one was safe from the Nazis. They threatened everyone and everything she loved. She could disguise her fear, but her hatred seemed uncontrollable, growing stronger with each passing hour. And there seemed no end to it.
At last, everything was unloaded. Lena was surprised by how few household goods the Zylstras had brought with them. “There wasn’t time,” Oma Zylstra said when Lena mentioned it. “We decided food was more important than possessions.” Oma wasn’t able to do much heavy lifting, so Lena encouraged her to sit in the rocking chair and comfort Tina’s smallest son, upset by the upheaval. He sat on his grandmother’s lap, clutching a stuffed bear and sucking his thumb.
“The boys and I carried everything we could up to the attic,” Tina said. “They told us the floodwaters might reach as high as the second floor . . .” Lena pulled Tina into her arms as she dissolved into tears. So much responsibility on this young woman’s shoulders.
“We’ll get through this together,” Lena said.
Oma Zylstra helped Lena fix lunch while Tina unpacked their clothing and bedding. Maaike would sleep in Lena’s bed with her, Wim would share his bedroom loft with the three boys, and Tina and her mother would sleep in Maaike’s room. They talked about the days ahead as they ate, and how they were all praying for victory over these invaders.
“I don’t know how long we’ll have to live here,” Tina said. “Even if the war ends quickly, we won’t be able to return home until the floodwaters go down. Who knows how long it will be before we can plant crops again.”
“We may not be able to plant this spring, either,” Lena said, “with all of the men away.” They sent the children outside to play afterwards, cautioning them to stay close to the house, then Lena turned on the radio. There was news of the battles that were still raging and of the Dutch fortifications that had been forced to surrender. When she heard that Den Haag was now under attack, Lena drew a shuddering breath. “I think my husband is in Den Haag,” she said.
Tina reached for her hand. “My husband is on the eastern front.”
Lena heard the rumble of approaching planes, flying low. She sprang from her seat to call the children inside, but then she heard Wim’s voice and the sound of laughter outside as t
he planes flew on. “You’re trying so hard to hang on to control,” Pieter had told her, “but you never were in control to begin with. It’s an illusion. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll put everything into God’s hands and find some peace.”
Lena exhaled and sat down again.
CHAPTER 17
Ans parted the curtain to stare out the front window, wondering how the May afternoon could be so beautiful with flowers blooming and new green leaves on the trees, when war was raging all across her country. She would soon turn twenty, and this should be the springtime of her life, but her youth had been suddenly snatched away. The safe, carefree world she’d grown up in was gone, and she wondered if she’d ever feel safe and carefree again.
She let the curtain drop and turned to Eloise, perched on the sofa in the same place she’d been for days. As uncertain and traumatic as these past days had been for Ans, she couldn’t imagine living through them for a second time as Eloise was doing. No wonder she was so fragile. A dish that had been shattered was never as strong, even when the pieces were patiently glued back together. Ans was weary of being the glue.
“Can we turn off the radio for a little while?” she pleaded. “They’re saying the same things over and over.”
Eloise shook her head. “We have to know what’s happening. It’s important!”
Ever since Ans awoke to the sound of bombs five days ago, each day had passed as slowly as a year. Professor Huizenga still had not returned home. The Huizengas’ cook and housekeeper had stayed home with their families, and Ans had been doing all the cooking, making do with whatever she could find in the cupboards. Neither she nor Eloise had an appetite. Nazi planes flew over constantly. Sirens blared. Leiden, located between Amsterdam and Den Haag, felt like the crossroads of the war. At night, Ans and Eloise dozed beneath piles of blankets in the front room beside the radio in case they needed to flee to the basement. Ans was exhausted, afraid to sleep for fear Eloise would do something rash, like go up on the roof again.
