by Lynn Austin
“I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry.”
“Erik, please tell me you don’t agree with this persecution of Jews. Firing an eminently qualified physics professor or law professor because he’s Jewish is just wrong!”
“Don’t get involved, Ans. Please!”
She pulled away to look at him, her heart racing. She already was involved. Should she tell him? She and Eloise had met with the editor of the underground newspaper this morning and had volunteered to work with him. Eloise would do her reporting and writing under a pseudonym; Ans would help her gather the news and then distribute the newspapers.
“Please,” Erik pleaded. “I know that one of the Jewish professors is a friend of the Huizengas, but—”
“He’s my friend too. And so is his daughter and her husband. I can’t stand by and let them be persecuted. What the Nazis are doing to them is monstrous. Surely you can see that.” She felt the muscles in his body tense.
“What you and I believe doesn’t matter. We can’t fight them, Ans. They’re too powerful. And they’re ruthless. They’ll arrest you and anyone else who speaks up without thinking twice about it. The Dutch Nazi Party is everywhere, watching and listening.”
“I hope you’re not thinking about joining them and becoming a party member.”
“I had no choice.”
She heard his words, spoken in the past tense, and froze. “You already joined them?”
“I had to. I didn’t want to be sent to a labor camp.” His beloved face looked strained, the muscles in his jaws tight.
“Wasn’t there any other choice?”
“Not at the moment. No.”
“Then we’re on opposing sides?”
“Ans, no! I don’t want that! I love you!” He held her tightly again, and she leaned against him, wanting to melt into him, change him, merge their hearts and their minds into one. It was the first time he’d said that he loved her, and her heart leaped with joy in spite of her inner turmoil.
“I love you too.” It was true. She loved this sweet, shy man who only wanted to keep order and protect people. They kissed, and nothing mattered in that moment except their love for each other, their future together. If it weren’t for the war, their future could begin today.
Ans thought she understood Eloise’s anger and grief after the Great War had altered her life forever. And she grieved for Miriam, who wanted the same thing that Ans did—a future with the man she loved.
Ans was still thinking of Miriam when Erik said, “Promise me you won’t get involved, Ans. I want you to be safe. I want a future with you. I can’t give you the life you deserve right now, but when things get better, when the country stabilizes, will you marry me?”
In a way, it seemed too soon. They’d met only a year ago. And ever since Erik went into military training, they’d been apart more than they’d been together. But Ans loved him. She wanted to spend her life with him. She knew they could make a happy life together. In that moment, she hated the Nazis for coming between them. She and Erik were on opposing sides because of the Nazis.
“Yes, Erik, yes! I would love to be your wife! But I don’t want to start our life together under these horrible conditions. I think we should wait until the war ends and life returns to normal and we’re free again.” She expected to see joy on his face, but he winced. “Did I say something wrong?”
“When I see the power the Nazis wield . . . how much they control us and every nation around us, and how no one has been able to stop them . . . I don’t think we’ll ever be able to break free from them.”
“Don’t say that! We can’t lose hope, Erik. We can’t!”
Ans felt like singing when she went to her room that night. She wanted to announce to the world that she was in love and Erik had asked her to marry him. She had said yes! Yet she couldn’t tell anyone. Herman and Eloise wouldn’t understand. They would see Erik as a policeman who worked for the Nazis, their enemy. And Miriam would never understand how she could fall in love with a member of the Nazi Party. Ans couldn’t explain it to herself, much less to her friends. Or her family. Mama and Papa didn’t even know about Erik. But Ans loved him. When this war ended, they would be together forever.
In the months that followed, Ans was able to snatch only short moments of time with Erik. Her days were spent working with Eloise on the underground newspaper, spreading the news about the Nazi persecution of Jews in the Netherlands. Her work was important. She was rising up against the enemy, resisting their evil.
In January, the outrage at the treatment of Jews reached a boiling point when the Nazis passed a law requiring all Jews to register their names and addresses and carry identification cards marked with a J. Strikes were called and riots broke out in Amsterdam as people protested, demanding that the Nazis rescind the law.
Erik arrived at the town house early one morning while Ans was still eating her breakfast. She hurried outside to talk with him on the front step, afraid to invite him inside. After working late into the night, she and Eloise had been too tired to clear everything away before going to bed. Eloise’s typewriter sat in plain view on the dining room table, strewn with drafts of reports and editorials. The latest issues of the newspaper, detailing the unrest in Amsterdam and the Nazis’ brutal backlash, were stacked on a chair for Ans to deliver.
“I came to tell you that I’ve been ordered to assist the police in Amsterdam,” he told her after they’d kissed. “I’m leaving now to help put an end to the rioting.”
“Will you be in danger?”
“We’re armed. The rioters aren’t.”
The thought occurred to her that Erik could provide an eyewitness report. People all over the Netherlands would learn the truth about what the Nazis were ordering the Dutch police to do. “When will you be back?”
“I have no idea.”
“I love you, Erik.”
“I love you too.” He kissed her and was preparing to leave when she stopped him again. There was something else she needed to know.
“But you agree that what they’re doing to the Jews is wrong?”
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was the color of damp sand and reminded Ans of their walks on the beach in Katwijk in happier times. “Everything that’s happening in the Netherlands is wrong,” he said. “But if I show any sympathy at all, I’m finished. I’m hoping I can urge the other officers to exercise restraint. Right now, the situation in Amsterdam is out of hand.” He kissed her again and said, “I’m concerned for you, Ans. I know you have Jewish friends, but please be careful. Riots don’t help anyone.”
“I’ll be praying for you. And for us.”
He looked surprised. “You believe in prayer?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
“I don’t know anything about it. I wasn’t brought up with religion. Life is very different in Java than it is here.”
“Maybe we can talk about it when you get back. You can come to church with me sometime.”
He nodded, but Ans thought she detected more skepticism than enthusiasm. Had she really never talked about her faith before? It had taken on renewed importance since the invasion. Erik waved, then turned and walked away without looking back.
CHAPTER 23
MARCH 1941
Miriam and Avi’s baby girl was born on a sunny morning in early March, after Miriam had labored for eighteen hours. A Jewish doctor delivered the baby in their apartment, avoiding the hospital and official records. The moment the doctor placed baby Elisheva in Miriam’s arms, she felt more joy than she ever thought possible—and with it, more fear than she’d ever known. Elisheva was as delicate and perfect as a flower blossom, from her halo of fine, dark hair to her tiny, precious toes. Miriam stroked her soft cheek and kissed her perfect fingers, unable to take her eyes off her. Avi laughed and wept when he held her for the first time. But in his unguarded moments, Miriam caught him looking at their child with a mixture of love and dread and fear. “There is so much more at stake,” he whispered.
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Abba had never stopped searching for a way to escape, and when the baby was three months old, a man from the Dutch Resistance came to their apartment after curfew one evening. Miriam had expected an underground freedom fighter to be fierce-looking, but he arrived wearing a business suit and tie and carrying a briefcase. Miriam had been saving every guilder she could spare to pay for their escape and had no coffee or tea to offer him.
“I don’t need anything, thank you,” he said, waving away her apologies. He sat down at their kitchen table and took a book from his bag, carefully removing a delicate map that had been rolled inside the spine. He spread it out on the table. “I can put you in contact with a network that has been very successful in smuggling people into Switzerland, Professor Jacobs, but it’s costly. The money is needed to purchase Dutch and Belgian identity cards that won’t identify you as Jewish. The next step will be to cross the Belgian border—”
“Belgium?” Abba said. “The Nazis occupy Belgium.”
“They do,” he replied. He placed his book on one side of the map to keep it from curling while he traced his finger along the route. “Once across the border, you will be given your Belgian identities and taken to a safe house in Brussels. There you will meet a passeur who knows the route from Belgium, through France, and into Switzerland, avoiding checkpoints and border controls. The passeur’s fees can be very expensive but are well worth the cost if you want to escape. So far they’ve proven very reliable. None of their passengers have been caught.”
“And are Jews accepted in Switzerland?” Avi asked. “I’ve heard that some have been turned away at the border.”
“And I’ve heard that some of the Swiss officials cooperate with the Nazis,” Abba said, “hiding Nazi money and other assets in Swiss banks.”
“I’ve heard all of these things, too,” the man said. “But the passeur will avoid Swiss border controls. Once you’re there, your documents will disguise who you are.”
“How soon can we leave?” Abba asked.
“Producing the false documents will take time. Two or three months, at least. And that’s if we start the process right away.”
“I will pay any price,” Abba said.
“Can we assume that the terrain will be rugged?” Avi asked. “We have a small child.” He gestured to Miriam, who had been pacing the tiny living room while the men talked, rocking Elisheva to sleep in her arms.
“The child is going?” he asked in alarm.
“Yes, of course. All four of us are going,” Abba replied. “I can pay for all of us.”
“A child will be a problem, especially one that small. The route is physically demanding and dangerous. A crying baby can give you away. I don’t know of anyone who has tried to do it with a small child. I’m not certain the passeur will even agree to try.”
Miriam’s hope evaporated, and despair rushed in to take its place. She held Elisheva tightly as if someone might snatch her from her arms.
“You said it will take a few months for all our papers to arrive?” Abba asked. “The baby will be stronger by then.”
“I can strap her to my chest and carry her,” Avi said.
“Smuggling two men will be no problem. Even you,” he said, gesturing to Miriam, “if you have sturdy shoes.” He lifted the book, and the map curled up on its own. He rolled it tightly and pushed it back into place in the spine. “But traveling with a baby will be close to impossible.”
Disappointment nearly crushed all three of them. Abba gave the man a down payment to begin the process and asked him to please inquire about taking Elisheva. “It’s unthinkable for any of us to leave without her,” he said.
In July, the synagogue was vandalized with painted swastikas and slogans reading, “Jews die!” Miriam remembered Kristallnacht and everything that had happened to her family after that terrible night. It was happening all over again in the Netherlands.
New rules for Jews appeared in the newspapers, including a summary of all the places they were forbidden to go. They could no longer ride on trams or buses or trains. They couldn’t visit parks or do business with non-Jewish shops. They could no longer visit non-Jewish households. Miriam’s world shrank to include only the synagogue, the Jewish grocery store, and the streets around her apartment.
As her life grew more confined, her fear grew more expansive, enlarging with each new proclamation until it nearly overwhelmed her. She had to protect her daughter, but how? She and Avi searched for a way as they lay in each other’s arms at night, whispering their love and their fear. They found no answer.
“Just remember,” Avi murmured, “the Nazis may take everything else away, but they can never destroy our love.”
CHAPTER 24
Eloise found reserves of strength that Ans had never seen as she poured her seemingly boundless energy into her work with the underground newspaper. Ans enjoyed working with her. The only problem was getting Eloise to stop to sleep or eat. “I’m not stopping until we’re free again,” she would say whenever Ans tried to coax her. The higher Eloise flew, the lower Ans feared she eventually might fall. Together, they monitored foreign radio broadcasts in German, English, and French, then reported what they’d heard.
Besides monitoring the news, Ans also delivered copies of the newspaper as soon as they came off the press, riding her bicycle or traveling by train to Amsterdam or Den Haag. She was standing on the platform at the Leiden station with a bundle of newspapers hidden in the lining of her bag, waiting for the train to Den Haag to arrive, when she saw Erik approaching. He wore his police uniform, and he was with two Nazi soldiers. He looked surprised when he saw her, but he continued walking toward her as if not in a hurry and didn’t smile or greet her with a kiss. “What are you doing here, Ans?”
“I’m . . . um . . . running an errand for Eloise. Are you going someplace too?”
“We’re checking ID cards.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze. He seemed embarrassed. The latest Nazi regulation now required everyone over the age of fifteen to carry an identification card at all times.
“Oh. I should let you get on with your job, then. Will I see you this weekend?”
He lowered his voice. “I have to check your ID card, Ans. They’re training us to do it correctly.” Her heart beat faster.
This stranger was the man she had laughed with and kissed last night, the man she’d snuggled beside at the cinema. Before the movie started, a Nazi propaganda film had aired. It had disgusted her. She’d tried to talk about it afterwards, telling Erik how outraged she was, but he’d warned her to be quiet. “There are listening ears everywhere,” he’d whispered. She knew he was right. If they identified her as a Jewish sympathizer, it would endanger her work with the newspaper and put all of their coworkers at risk.
“My ID card is in here somewhere.” She laughed, trying to make light of it as she fumbled through her purse. She was afraid of Erik in his role as a policeman, afraid of the power he wielded for the enemy. By carrying forbidden newspapers, she was breaking the law that he was sworn to uphold. Erik glanced at the two soldiers watching him from a short distance away. He must see that she was nervous. What would he do if he found the newspapers?
“Here it is,” she said, handing the card to him. Her heart raced faster as Erik studied it, wondering if he’d been trained to spot a fake. Miriam and Avi were making plans to escape with false identity cards.
Erik stared at the flower on her lapel as he handed it back. She’d pinned it there so her contact could identify her. Erik knew she didn’t wear flowers. “Open your bag for me, please.” She did, watching his face as he poked around inside. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple. He was in as much danger as she was. Her bag contained physics textbooks borrowed from Professor Huizenga so she could pose as a student. Erik would know they weren’t hers. The newspapers that were sewn inside the lining called for active resistance and exposed the Nazis’ propaganda. They also reported the latest news from the battlefront, news that the Nazi-controlled papers wouldn’t repo
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Erik suddenly looked up at her in alarm. Their gazes locked, then Ans looked down at what he’d seen. The weight of the textbooks had torn some of the stitching loose. The masthead on one of the newspapers was clearly visible behind the tear.
Time stood still.
Then Erik cleared his throat and said, “You may go.” With those three words, he broke the law for her. He’d placed himself in danger. For her.
Her train to Den Haag rumbled into the Leiden station, shaking the platform. The doors opened, and she boarded on legs barely able to carry her. She stood in the aisle for the entire ride, unable to find a seat in the crowded car, gripping the strap as the train sped up and slowed down, stopping in towns along the way. She was so nauseated she feared she might be sick. Ans had been delivering the underground newspaper for months, but this was her first close call. She would have to warn everyone to be more careful.
At last, the train reached Den Haag. Ans stepped onto the platform, waiting for her contact to spot the flower on her jacket. Within minutes, a young man carrying an identical bag approached and greeted her like an old friend, kissing her cheeks. He chatted as he led her to a café near the train station, talking about the weather and how crowded the trains were these days. Ans knew the routine and had done this before with other contacts in other places. But he must have noticed that she was upset.
“Did you have a close call?” he asked after they were seated at a small table near the window.
Ans nodded. “They check ID cards and bags now. But I’m okay . . . I mean . . . I will be okay in a minute.”
He leaned across the table. “Go ahead and cry if you need to. We’ll pretend you’re giving me bad news.”
Tears filled her eyes, but not because she was afraid. Ans knew how much Erik’s work meant to him, how committed he was to upholding the law. The Nazis would execute him if they suspected he was collaborating with the underground. Her tears were for what he had just risked for her. And because she feared he would ask her to choose between her love for him and her work for the Resistance.
