by Lynn Austin
“We have three children,” Lena added, “and we don’t want them to know about you. Two of them are in school, and secrets can be a heavy burden for youngsters to carry.”
“We understand,” Ina assured her.
“I’m sorry the space is so cramped,” Lena said when Pieter showed it to them. It was going to be difficult for people their age to crawl through the small, secret panel.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Max said. “We consider ourselves fortunate to be alive.”
By the time Wolf appeared in Lena’s kitchen before dawn a week later, the hidden workroom in the cellar was finished, and Max had resumed forging documents during the night. He and Ina were seated at the table with Wolf, eating the food Lena had left for them, when she woke up. “Have you heard the good news?” Wolf asked. “Allied forces have landed in France.”
“No, we hadn’t heard,” Pieter replied. “Tell us more.”
“The size of the invasion was monumental, with thousands of warships and airplanes and troops. They had a rough time of it for a while, but they’ve established a beachhead on the French coast and now they’re fighting their way inland. Here, you can read about it.” He pulled an underground newspaper from his pack and handed it to Pieter. Lena read the headline over his shoulder.
“We’ve heard a lot of activity up there,” Pieter said, pointing to the sky, “but it’s hard to know what’s happening without a radio.”
“I brought you one,” Wolf said, patting his bag.
Lena looked up from the newspaper in alarm. “Radios are still forbidden.”
“I’ll hide it in the windmill. You’re going to need it for the work we’ll be doing in the coming weeks.”
Lena’s stomach lurched. She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down on it to listen. She didn’t want to hear about the dangerous things Pieter would be doing, yet her need to know outweighed her fear.
“Coded messages will be broadcast from Britain telling you when and where weapons will be dropped,” Wolf continued.
Pieter leaned close. “How will the drops work?”
“When you hear our plane on the designated night, you’ll shine a light into the sky as a signal. Weapons and ammunition will be dropped by parachute, and it will be up to you to hide them in haystacks or manure piles or wherever you can until they’re needed.”
“I assume we’ll have more work to do now that the invasion has come?”
Wolf nodded. “We’ll be asking Resistance fighters to do additional acts of sabotage—derailing trains, cutting telephone wires, destroying bridges—whatever it takes to halt the movement of Nazi war materials.”
“But there are always reprisals,” Lena said. “The Nazis round up men from the nearby communities, and—”
Pieter rested his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Wolf knows all about reprisals.”
“Once your cell commits an act, you and your men will need to go into hiding. Not here, but out in the woods somewhere. The Germans have been searching for men in hiding. They’ll surround a town and search house to house. Any men they find are sent to labor camps. I apologize if I’m scaring you,” he said to Lena.
She couldn’t reply. She wondered how she could operate the farm by herself with Pieter gone.
“One more thing you should know. If you’re caught helping downed Allied airmen, you’ll face arrest and execution. And they’ll arrest your wife, as well, to discourage you from helping aircrews.”
Lena wondered what would happen to her children if she was arrested. She wasn’t afraid for herself as much as for them. “That’s a huge price to pay,” she said.
“Yes, but the alternative is much worse,” Pieter said. “If the Nazis win, we’ll live beneath their shadow for the rest of our lives.”
“I’m heading up to your windmill now to hide the radio if you want to join me,” Wolf said, pushing away from the table. “And I left a container of kerosene in your barn.”
“Take something with you to eat,” Lena said. She rose from the table and rummaged in her pantry, wrapping a few items in a dish towel for him.
“I’m very grateful to you,” Wolf said before leaving.
The sky was growing light outside, which meant it was time for Max and Ina to crawl into their hiding space again. Lena needed to rekindle the fire, fix breakfast, and wake the children for school. If only those routine chores could distract her thoughts from what Wolf had just told them. If only the good news of the Allied landing didn’t mean that their lives would be in more danger than ever before.
“Are you all right, Lena?” Pieter asked. He’d returned from the windmill to find her shoving wood noisily into the stove and slamming down the lid.
“No. But I will be.” She looked up at the man she loved so much. “I know these things have to be done. I know we have to fight for our country. I just wish . . . I just pray that it will all be over quickly.”
CHAPTER 43
Miriam was sitting in the parlor at Meijers House with the other residents late one evening, listening to music on the gramophone, when someone knocked on the front door. Miss Willy looked alarmed. Miss Hannie did too, but only for a moment. Her serene smile returned as she rose from her chair. “I’ll see who it is.”
Miriam moved closer to the hall door so she could hear who it was above the tinny music. She thought she recognized Dr. Elzinga’s voice.
“This is Klara and her daughter Tina,” he said. “They were hiding with a Dutch family in Haarlem and barely escaped capture by the Gestapo. May they stay with you for a while?”
“The only beds we have are the two in the infirmary,” Miss Hannie replied, “but they’re welcome to them.”
“I know this is an imposition, Mrs. Woltheim, but with the latest razzias, it’s difficult to find hiding places.”
“What’s a razzia?” she asked.
“The Gestapo is going house-to-house, searching for Dutchmen between the ages of eighteen and sixty so they can take them east to labor camps. In the process, they’re also finding hidden Jews.”
The news opened a well of fear inside Miriam. Where was Avi? Was he safe? Nearly two years had passed since she’d held him and kissed him and said goodbye. They had married four years ago and had been apart for two of those years. Sometimes her marriage seemed like a dream, while her life was a waking nightmare with no dawn in sight. She had to believe that Avi was safe. That Elisheva was living happily on a farm like the Mulders’, feeding the chickens and playing with the barn cats. Miriam wouldn’t allow herself to imagine anything else.
“They’ve never searched here,” Miss Hannie said, “and Miriam has been hiding with us for four months now.”
The music was slowing and becoming off-key as the gramophone wound down. Frits leaped up and gave the crank a few hearty turns, making the needle stumble and skip. “Careful! Don’t wind it too tightly,” Miss Willy warned.
“I’m not!” Frits shouted. Miriam strained to hear what the doctor was saying above the fuss.
“Have you heard that the Americans have landed in France?” he asked.
“Yes, our housekeeper told us the wonderful news last week,” Miss Hannie replied. “They’ve renewed our hope. We pray they’ll get here soon.” Miriam’s prayer was the same.
“Until they do, Klara and Tina need a new place to hide. My donors will contribute to their support.”
“We’ll need extra ration cards for them. Food is in very short supply as it is.”
“I understand. Someone from the underground will deliver extra cards.”
“You’re welcome to sleep in the infirmary tonight,” Miss Hannie told the women, “but it might be best if we make beds for you in the attic so you can stay up there during the day. We still aren’t certain if we can trust the day staff to keep our secrets. Christina has avoided their scrutiny, but it will be harder to explain why we’ve taken in two new residents when we have no more room.”
“We’re grateful for any help you can offer us,” o
ne of the women said.
“You’re wise not to trust anyone who comes in and out of Meijers House, Mrs. Woltheim,” the doctor said. “The Nazis pay a bounty for spying on your neighbors and reporting people in hiding.” The doctor left again. Miss Hannie returned alone, announcing that it was bedtime.
Early the next morning, before the residents rose and the day help arrived, Miriam helped Klara and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Tina, get settled in the attic. “I think it’s cruel to make you live up there all the time,” Miss Hannie said, “so you’re welcome to join us in the parlor after the cook and housekeeper leave.”
“Aren’t you afraid one of the residents will let it slip that we have women living in our attic?” Miriam asked.
Miss Hannie smiled. “Who’s going to believe them? We’ll say they must be talking about the mice in our attic.”
Now that the Allies had landed in France, the sound of airplanes thundering overhead went on day and night, along with what Miriam guessed was artillery and machine-gun fire. One night just before bedtime, the explosions were so loud it sounded as if the sky was about to come down on their heads. Flashes lit up the night, accompanying the blasts. When bits of plaster sifted down from the ceiling and the electricity went out, Miss Hannie decided that the best way to keep everyone calm was to light candles, wind up the gramophone, and postpone bedtime for a while, as if they were merely waiting for a thunderstorm to blow over instead of for a battle to end. Rietje clung to Miriam like a frightened child as they sat together on the sofa. Cornelia rocked in place and moaned, a sign that she might be about to have one of her episodes. Frits gave a great shout with each explosion, adding to the noise and agitating the other two boys. His mother’s attempts to calm him failed. Only Miep seemed unfazed as she dozed in her chair.
When the worst of the commotion finally tapered off, Miss Willy picked up one of the candlesticks and lit the way upstairs to bed. She was halfway up when there was a loud pounding on the front door.
“We need to hide!” Klara gasped. She and Tina raced upstairs to the attic hatch on the second floor, with Miriam right behind them to help. The pounding continued, but Miss Hannie waited to answer it, giving them more time to put the ladder in place and climb up, difficult to do in the dim candlelight. Miriam signaled that it was safe once the women had pulled up the ladder and closed the hatch. Only Miep and Cornelia could be convinced to go into their darkened bedroom. The other residents refused to listen to Miss Willy and lined up along the upstairs banister, peering down to see what was happening. Frits’s shouts added to the commotion.
The moment Miss Hannie opened the door, several men in Nazi uniforms pushed inside, shouting in German. Was this one of their dreaded razzias? Miriam quickly ducked into her bedroom, wishing she’d gone into the attic with the other women. Miss Hannie didn’t understand German, which made the angry men shout all the louder. The chaos upset Rietje and she hopped up and down crying, “Tina, hide! Klara, hide!”
Miriam grabbed Rietje’s arm and yanked her into the bedroom, holding her tightly to calm her. “Shh, it’s all right, Rietje. The men aren’t going to hurt us.” She managed to quiet her enough to hear one of the soldiers trying to explain in muddled Dutch that a Nazi vehicle and two motorcycles had been wrecked in the bombings. Injured soldiers needed first aid. When she finally understood, Miss Hannie let them be taken into the infirmary while the Nazi in charge demanded to use their telephone.
All the while, Frits shouted from upstairs, “Go away! Go away!”
“If someone doesn’t shut him up, I will!” the Nazi shouted back in German. Miriam left her place long enough to drag Frits into the bedroom with her and Rietje and close the door. They were both afraid of the dark, but there was nothing she could do about it.
“If you stop shouting, Frits, I’ll let you jump on my bed.” He quieted for a moment. It was something he loved to do but wasn’t allowed. He took a moment to decide, then grinned and climbed onto the bed and began bouncing. He was making loud thumps, but at least he’d stopped shouting. Rietje climbed onto her own bed and began jumping too. Miriam opened the door again, straining to hear what the officer was saying on the telephone.
Miss Willy had managed to coax the last two residents into their room to get ready for bed, and when she saw Miriam standing in her doorway, she hurried over, carrying a candle. “Can you tell what’s going on?” she whispered.
“There’s been an accident. Miss Hannie is giving the injured men first aid. The officer just telephoned his headquarters to tell them where he is and to ask someone to come for them.”
“So this isn’t a razzia?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I should go down and help Hannie. Can you manage the residents by yourself?”
“Of course.” Miriam took the candle Willy held out to her. She checked inside Miep’s bedroom and saw her sitting on her bed, staring at Cornelia, who was wedged into a corner, mumbling a rapid stream of nonsense. Cornelia would need her medicine to calm down after the men were gone. Miriam went into the boys’ room next and found them having a pillow fight, dangerously close to the candle on the dresser. She pulled the pillows out of their hands. “You’d better stop that now and get ready for bed before Miss Willy gets back.”
Rietje and Frits were still jumping on the beds when Miriam returned to her room. “If you stop jumping, Frits, and go to your room and sit quietly with the other boys, I’ll tell you a story about the goblins that used to live in Holland.”
“Me too?” Rietje asked.
“Yes, you too.” She chose one of their favorite stories, one she knew by heart after all these months. The flickering candlelight added to the drama. Miriam had just finished when a vehicle pulled up out front. She put her finger to her lips, saying, “Shh . . . ,” and hoped Frits would obey. Doors slammed and she heard men’s voices outside. The front door opened and heavy boots tromped across the wooden floor.
“They’re in there,” someone said. “We’ll need three stretchers.” Miriam held her breath during all the commotion that followed, waiting to see if the Nazis would search the house afterwards. At last, the front door closed for the final time. The vehicle drove away. All was quiet.
“What good boys you are,” Miss Willy said when she peeked into the bedroom. “Say good night to Rietje and Christina, now. They need to go to bed too.”
As Miriam passed her in the doorway, Miss Willy whispered, “Thank you.”
“Cornelia is going to need her medicine,” Miriam whispered back.
“I know. Hannie is with her. Good night.”
“Good night.”
The evening’s events left Miriam shaken and drained of strength. The sisters were such kind, compassionate women, caring with dignity and love for the broken souls whom others had rejected. To have their home invaded by the Nazis, even for an hour, seemed an outrage. Yet the sisters had treated the Nazis with kindness as well. Miriam shuddered at the memory of how close her enemies had been to her. The fear that made her stomach ache was going to keep her awake all night.
CHAPTER 44
The hen squawked and tried to peck Ans’s hand as she pushed it off the nest to check for eggs. “Ha! I’m faster than you are,” she told the disgruntled hen. “I’ve had years of practice.” She ducked out of the coop and carried the basket of eggs into the farmhouse to wash them.
Ans was Bernandina Kamp now, according to her forged ID card, and worked as a maid on a farm much like her parents’. She’d longed to escape from farm life and it now had become her refuge. Jo and Hans Dykstra were in their thirties and, with six children to care for, were grateful for Ans’s help washing diapers and dishes, tending chickens, and preparing meals while Jo nursed a colicky baby. Ans guessed that two of the children were Jewish, but she knew better than to ask questions.
The family hid other people besides Ans. Onderduikers came and went, and four Jewish boys in their teens helped with the farmwork, then hid in the outbuildings or the thick
woods behind the farm whenever the Nazis came. The boys enjoyed telling stories of their close calls. “One time we were shoveling out the cow stalls when the Nazis came and Johan dove into the manure pile to hide. We wouldn’t let him near us for days!”
“At least I was smarter than Dries. He nearly drowned after jumping into the canal to hide.”
“I had to stay in the water for three hours!” Dries said, laughing. “I was chilled to the bone, but it was better than being caught.”
The sound of their laughter and deep voices made Ans homesick for Erik. She thought of him throughout the day and when she lay in her box bed beside the kitchen stove at night, wondering if he would ever forgive her for not quitting her underground work and marrying him when he’d asked. And for disappearing. Sometimes she would daydream about their life together as she scrubbed the workmen’s overalls and socks or when she lay staring at the wooden ceiling at night, wondering if there was any hope at all for them after the war ended. If it ever did end.
Summer on the farm meant long days and extra work, but the highlight of Ans’s week was when her Resistance contact arrived with the latest underground newspaper. A seed salesman, Leeuw was exempt from Nazi roundups and had a valid reason to travel from farm to farm across the countryside. Ans guessed his code name, Lion, was because of his thick mane of reddish-blond hair.
One rainy summer day, Leeuw delivered the welcome news that the Allies had landed on the Continent.
“We’ve heard rumors that the Americans had landed,” Ans said, “but now we know it’s true.”
“It’s true, my dear. You can read the news for yourself.” The newspaper was the one she and Eloise had worked for. Ans saw how vital their work had been, especially after the Nazis confiscated everyone’s radios. She wished she could tell Eloise how grateful people all across the country were.
