Love of Finished Years

by Gregory Erich Phillips

  Dafne was off somewhere today with Mr. Halifax; she probably wouldn’t notice. Still, it made Elsa terribly nervous to leave for so long without telling her mistress. Her plan was to tell Dafne she had visited her mother in the Lower East Side. It was on her way after all. She had attempted to, but Nina wasn’t home. Now she would be compelled to lie when she returned to Dafne. She didn’t like to lie.

  She hadn’t seen Glenn since the day he shared her simple meal at the apartment. So much had changed for them all since then. She missed their simple familiarity. Without him around, she had no one with whom to share her thoughts. Dafne always told her she could talk to her—that they were best friends—but it wasn’t really true. Dafne needed a listener and a comforter; Elsa was good at that. But Dafne was seldom silent for long enough to coax out Elsa’s thoughts. With Glenn, it had become natural for her to express herself. Sometimes it was only in a shared glance that they conveyed deep understanding with one another. Only now that he was gone did Elsa realize how Glenn had been her best friend since Beth died. Without his relationship to Dafne, Elsa and Glenn had no paradigm in which to remain friends.

  Except that she missed him.

  After the broken engagement and Elsa’s resolution to serve her mistress faithfully, she had expected Glenn to fade into a pleasant memory. It was disappointing to have a friend snatched out of her life, but she’d faced disappointments before. She still had a lot to be thankful for in her situation.

  But it was different now. She was always kind and courteous to Mr. Halifax when he was around. But she couldn’t help resenting his and Dafne’s relationship. She had no loyalty to him and much less loyalty now to Dafne. Would she want to remain Dafne’s maid if she married Mr. Halifax? If their relationship continued, she wondered whether it would be best to look for a new position.

  These feelings helped encourage her to take the bold step that today had her on a Brooklyn-bound train. Over recent weeks she had thought more and more about seeking Glenn out, then finally convinced herself to do it. Yet her hands shook as she stepped off at the Fort Hamilton station. The fact that she had kept her action from Dafne made her reconsider, yet again, what she was about to do.

  What would it be like to see Glenn? Would he be different? A few months ago she had been completely comfortable with him. Nothing should have changed. Yet everything had changed.

  Elsa stood indecisively outside the sentry’s view for over half an hour. She was afraid to announce herself. At first it relaxed her to stand there, warm in her coat and boots on the brisk February afternoon. Traces of last week’s snowfall could still be seen in the shadows on the sides of the street. As the minutes passed she almost lost all courage to go forward. What would she say to Glenn? What common ground had they to stand on now?

  Would he even see her after refusing to see Dafne a month ago?

  Finally she forced herself forward and had the sentry announce her.

  Glenn appeared at the gate minutes later. She thought his eyes looked weary. The sparkle that her visit gave them was lost on her.

  “Let’s walk,” he said. “I would rather not bring you inside the base.”

  She didn’t mind at all. After the years she had spent on this city’s streets, a wintry afternoon in South Brooklyn didn’t intimidate her. The movement of walking helped her to relax.

  “I am glad you agreed to see me.”

  “Did you doubt it, only because I wouldn’t see Dafne?”

  “No. I knew you would. I am still glad.”

  They walked on in silence. Soon the residential streets gave way to the edge of Dyker Beach Park. As soon as the houses were gone Elsa felt the cold winter wind on her cheeks. They continued along the side of the park.

  “How are you?” she finally asked.

  “Well enough. I’ve been working very hard.”

  “I am glad. Does it make you happy?”

  “Happy . . . perhaps that’s not the right word. But it satisfies me. Look.” He pointed out an emblem on his coat. It meant nothing to Elsa, but she smiled when she saw his pride. “I’m a lieutenant.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Elsa felt incredibly awkward. Their conversation used to come so easily. Now when they most needed it, neither could muster more than a word or two at a time. Neither even looked at the other as they walked. Yet it felt good simply to be there beside him . . . to see his gentle face.

  “Thank you for coming to see me. It cannot have been easy to get away.”

  “I needed to see you.” She looked over at him. He looked back at her. She smiled.

  “Did you tell Dafne you were coming?”

  “No.”

  “Is she with Hal?”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  “You’re right. I should not ask. It’s hard to think of them together.”

  “I know.”

  The conversation stalled again, with each of their thoughts stuck on their least favorite subject.

  Elsa felt there was so much more she wanted to say, but the impropriety of this walk began to pound at all her personal insecurities. She struggled to remember that this was just Glenn, one of her dearest friends.

  “I should return to the train station.” She had lost her courage. “I have never been away for this long before.”

  He nodded. “I’ll walk you there.”

  At the next street, Glenn stopped to turn left, back toward the residences and away from the park. Elsa had been looking at her feet and walked a few steps past him before realizing he had stopped. When she came back he lifted his arm for her. Feeling a flutter in her chest, she slipped her arm into his and let him escort her back to the station. She had never walked on a man’s arm before. It felt wonderfully feminine to do so.

  “Thank you,” he said at the station as her train approached. “It means so much to me that you came.”

  She smiled at him. She wanted to embrace him. Not for herself, but for him. She knew that he desperately needed a hug. Perhaps if she had been used to receiving hugs when she needed them, she would have given him one now. But she hadn’t been hugged very often, least of all when she most needed it. So she didn’t hug him now. It would have been very inappropriate.

  Elsa cried on the train. Seeing Glenn left her heart breaking for the times they had lost. Despite their awkwardness today, she felt how real her friendship with Glenn was, yet foresaw no outlet for that friendship to continue.

  Fort Hamilton was ready. In his anxious anticipation, Glenn managed to ignore his heartbreak.

  President Woodrow Wilson had severed all diplomatic ties with Germany following its expansion of submarine warfare. Several American merchant ships had been targeted and sunk by German U-boats. The United States could no longer maintain its neutrality in Europe’s war. Despite an antiwar filibuster to block a vote in Congress, President Wilson used an executive order to arm and place navy personnel on US merchant ships to protect them against German aggression.

  British intelligence intercepted a German telegram to Mexican President Venustiano Carranza promising restoration of the lands Mexico had lost to the United States if Mexico would attack from the south, diverting US military power. Whether the telegram was truly German in origin or constructed by the British to sway popular sentiment in the United States could never be fully determined, but President Wilson was finally leaning toward war.

  In Washington, debates raged, even as sentiment across the country began to turn firmly against Germany. Former President Theodore Roosevelt openly called Wilson a coward for waiting so long to act and accused the antiwar activists of treason. Congress issued a decree that no one could express criticism of the president during wartime.

  Glenn devoured every word of these developments in the papers, eager for the war to come. Along with so many others, he was so sick of delays that he could no longer reasonably assess the issues at stake. President Wilson’s idealism annoyed him. The President wanted both peace and victory, and couldn’t seem to understa
nd the conflict therein. For three years he had been moving the pieces on his chessboard toward a stalemate unacceptable to either side. How could Germany, France, or England accept failure after losing a generation of men?

  But America, who would not sacrifice a generation, played for its own economic and political future. By 1917, it became clear that a German victory would severely weaken the United States. Germany knew this as well and hoped to cripple England and France before the United States could mobilize. Germany was also confident the Americans would never arrive.

  “We can assure you,” swore the German naval commander to the Kaiser, “that not a single ship with American troops will reach this side of the Atlantic. To stop them we have the U-boats; that, indeed, is why we have the U-boats!”

  The soldiers at Fort Hamilton tried not to worry about the danger they would face in transit. They knew they would be the first to sail when the order came. As soon as they reached French soil—if they reached it—they would be ready and eager to fight.

  Glenn had hardly left the base since his estrangement from Dafne. But now that war seemed inevitable, the anticipation made him restless. Finally he accepted one of the frequent invitations to go out with the fellows on a night off.

  Captain Cummings and Lieutenant Mueller, together with Glenn, took a cab east along the coast to a small club that Cummings knew about near Coney Island. They shot pool, threw darts and drank beer. Glenn even had a beer, thinking it might do him some good.

  Glenn and Mueller completed a game of billiards and sat down next to Captain Cummings. Glenn had won their game easily. He credited his supremacy to the fact that his opponent had just finished his third beer while he was still working on his first. This time they only ordered two more beers. Glenn’s second round, which they had insisted on ordering, still sat waiting in front of him.

  “Just because you’re a soldier now doesn’t mean you have to nurse your beer like a girl on theFourth of July,” said Cummings. “We’re all in civvies tonight.”

  Glenn laughed good-heartedly. Here he was trying to loosen up, and these men still thought him a square. He no longer minded being an outsider. He’d learned his lesson with Hal. He didn’t enjoy being drunk and wouldn’t let himself be pressured into it.

  “You’re the doggonedest soldier, Glenn,” said Cummings. “Always following the rules and the biggest patriot I’ve ever seen.”

  “I love my country.”

  “So do I, but there are other things in life.”

  Glenn didn’t say anything. He finished his beer and obediently took a small sip of the second.

  “I’m sorry,” Cummings said. “I know there’s that business with the girl. The army is probably a good way to keep your mind off it.”

  “It is. But I think I’m pretty well over her now.”

  “Easy to say,” Mueller said.

  “I mean it,” Glenn insisted.

  In that moment it surprised him that he thought of Elsa. Her recent visit had done more to help him get over Dafne than anything, even while reminding him of how much he missed Elsa as well. Her effort to come so far to see him had warmed his heart.

  His companions took drinks from their beers in tandem.

  “I know what you need.” Mueller pounded his fist on the table. “You need some new women!”

  Cummings nodded vigorously. Glenn grew nervous.

  “I know of a cabaret just a few blocks from here where we can see all the women we like.”

  “That sort of thing isn’t what I want.”

  “I insist. I bet you would like a show. If not, we won’t tell anybody about it.”

  Glenn finally consented. Mueller and Cummings finished their fourth beers. Glenn left his second almost full on the table. They walked a short way into a dark side street that seemed hidden from the rest of the neighborhood. Mueller knocked on a red door that popped out from the darkness. When it opened, Glenn peered in. He could see burlesque dancers on the stage, moving in soft, red light. He smelled stale beer and cheap whiskey. He felt disgusted and completely uninterested in entering such an establishment.

  Elsa came to his mind again. He remembered how disappointed she had been in him when he allowed Hal and Dafne to pressure him into getting drunk. What would she think of him if he allowed himself to be dragged in here by these two? She would never know, but he liked the virtuous opinion she had of him and wanted to deserve it.

  “I’m sorry, chaps,” he began backing away from his friends. “I can’t go in there. Go ahead. Have fun. Don’t worry about me.”

  He retreated quickly, not wanting to spoil their evening.

  It was three miles back to the base, and the night was cold, but he didn’t want a cab. The crisp air and brisk walk felt good.

  Glenn felt confused. Why could he not enjoy the things other men did—the drinking, carousing, and burlesques? Even Dafne had thought him uptight. At least Elsa understood him.

  Was he really a moral man, or simply a man who didn’t know how to have fun?

  But as he walked he remembered how much fun he used to have in Lindenhurst with Dafne and Elsa. He found his enjoyment in other things than men like Hal did. These days, he had traded fun for purpose and self-worth. With this mindset, he felt that he was better prepared for war than Cummings and Mueller—and certainly better prepared than Hal, if his draft number came up.

  By the time Glenn arrived at the base, an hour had passed since leaving the cabaret. The sentry saw him coming and motioned to him hurriedly. Glenn rushed toward the gate. The sentry handed him the phone. Startled, Glenn took the receiver and listened.

  “Glenn, thank God, it’s Cummings.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Mueller’s been beaten. He’s bad. It was all I could do to get him out of that place before they killed him.”

  “What? Why?”

  “How should I know? They said he was German. Called him a Hun and a spy, then started at him. Two men with big sticks. He had no chance to fight back.”

  “For God’s sake, he’s an American soldier—an officer!”

  “In civvies with a German name.”

  “How could they?”

  “Damn it, Glenn, I don’t know. I need your help. Take one of the regiment cars and fetch us. He needs a doctor, bad.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epiphany

  The words on the front page of the New York Times leaped out at Glenn:

  PRESIDENT CALLS FOR WAR DECLARATION!”

  He hurried back into the barracks to read the words of Woodrow Wilson’s address to Congress.

  “With a profound sense of the solemn and even tragic character of the step I am taking,” read the newspaper, “I propose that the Congress declare the recent course of the Imperial German Government to be in fact nothing less than war against the government and people of the United States and formally accept the status of belligerence. The present German submarine warfare against commerce is a war against all nations. It is a challenge to all mankind. There is only one choice we are incapable of making: we will not choose the path of submission.”

  Glenn’s heart beat wildly. He continued to read the transcribed presidential address.

  “The world must be made safe for democracy. The country must fight for the principles that gave her birth. God helping her, she can do no other. It is a fearful thing to lead this great, peaceful people into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself seeming to be in the balance. But the right is more precious than peace, that a new age might rise from the wreckage of a Europe torn asunder by the evil spirits of imperial plunder and dynastic rivalries, so subject peoples, long suppressed and exploited, might recover the precious independence that Americans had enjoyed since the founding of their nation. So people everywhere might be free at last to speak their minds without the threat of imprisonment, torture or death.”

  “For this we can fight, but for nothing less noble or less worthy of our traditions. A supreme moment of hist
ory has come. The eyes of the people have been opened and they see. The hand of God is laid upon the nations. He will show them favor, I devoutly believe, only if they rise to the clear heights of his own justice and mercy.”

  By the time Glenn reached the conclusion of the President’s speech his excitement had waned. He wished Wilson would have stopped after the first few sentences.

  Lieutenant Mueller’s beating had affected him. Glenn had gone all the way through basic training with this man without knowing he was German. In fact, he was not. It turned out his great-grandfather had come to America from Germany and married an Irish woman. Mueller was only one eighth German. His grandfather had fought in the Civil War; his father in the Spanish American War. Now Mueller would be deprived of fighting for his country by men less American than he. His only fault was his name.

  He also thought of Elsa, who was watching her present country march to war against her homeland. How could she reconcile her feelings about this?

  Glenn still favored the war. It was what America had to do. But the President’s words somehow didn’t feel right.

  He read the entire newspaper. Tucked away near the back was the dissension from those who had voted against going to war. Congressman Robert La Follette of Wisconsin stated:

  “The American people will acquiesce on this with the theory that the Congress should have the facts. But in truth the war in Europe is not a war of humanity, but a war of commercialism. I know men like me, who oppose this step, will have their patriotism questioned. But I must ask, is it a gauge of patriotism to vote calamity, debt, death and destruction on our country? Have not those who view it the other way the same right to consideration and respect as those who see relief only through a sea of blood? God forbid that in free America such an unjust discrimination can ever be made.”

  Glenn refused to believe that the war to which he offered his life was anything other than a suppression of evil, despite the sobering incident with Mueller. Yet La Follette’s point was well made: those who opposed the war weren’t less patriotic than those who supported it. La Follette was a patriot. He had proven so. But this, Glenn had decided, was a just war.