AbrakaPOW

by Isaiah Campbell

  The driver of the other truck, meanwhile, started it up one more time. Carl waved the smoke away, and no more emerged from the hood. Instead, the truck purred perfectly.

  Max nudged Major Larousse with her foot.

  “Oh, hey,” the major said. “We forgot to get a prisoner count.”

  The driver groaned and got back out. “We got fourteen,” he said.

  Major Larousse looked at his clipboard. “I see thirteen.”

  “Fourteen, sir,” the driver said again.

  The colonel marched to the back of the truck and counted. “Your superior is correct, driver. There’s thirteen back here.”

  The driver rubbed his head. “Well, golly gee, I guess we counted wrong.”

  The colonel walked up and patted the major on the back. “Good luck, Major. These last days are sure to be a headache and a half.” He left. The driver returned to the truck and drove away.

  Meanwhile, Carl’s truck found its way far out into the desert before it stopped. Gil hopped out and took the blanket off the boys: Eric, Shoji, and Felix.

  From the bushes nearby, Lola emerged with a friend.

  “Josephine!” Felix cried as he pulled his love into an embrace.

  “My dear, dear Felix,” she said as she covered his face in kisses.

  Eric and Shoji curled their lips in disgust, but Gil smiled. “Okay, lovebirds,” he said. He handed Felix a bundle of clothes and a razor. “Go get cleaned up, you Nazi.”

  “Not a Nazi, sir,” Felix said. “Never a Nazi.” He stepped into the bushes whistling “The Yankee Doodle Boy” and, about ten minutes later, emerged clean-shaven and wearing the clothes of the everyman.

  “Okay, here’re the tickets,” Gil said and gave him an envelope with railroad passes inside. “And, if they ask you for any identification, you can use this.” He handed him a billfold.

  Felix opened it and looked at the identity. “Abraham Mosen?”

  Gil nodded. “Knowing he was giving two crazy lovebirds their happy ending would have meant the world to him.” He touched the dog tag around his neck that also bore Abraham’s name and wiped a tear from his eye.

  Felix grabbed his hand and pumped it.

  “Now, get out of here,” Gil said gruffly.

  Together at last, Felix and Josephine disappeared, just as the greatest of magic tricks would dictate.

  Meanwhile, inside the gates of Camp Barkeley, Mrs. Larousse and Grandma Schauder came and joined Max and her father, who had his arms around his daughter as though he might never let her go. They had made a plan for a grand picnic with all of Max’s friends before they were scattered to the four corners of the nation. And afterward, Max’s father was hoping to have a wild game of hide-and-seek in a nearby park, just for old time’s sake.

  Max lifted Houdini up to her face and nuzzled his nose.

  “And you didn’t think I’d find any assistants here in the desert,” she said to him. “But I found something better, didn’t I?” He looked around at all the bunnies his dear human had somehow managed to train and licked her face.

  She let out a satisfied sigh.

  “Ta-da!”

  The Truth about Camp Barkeley

  I have always said that the most unbelievable parts of my stories are the parts that are actually true. Such is the case with this book. (If you don’t count the part when Houdini the ferret grew to be twelve feet tall. (SHHHH! Yes, I know that wasn’t in the book, I just said that to throw off the cheaters who are reading the back of the book before they read the actual story. Work with me, okay?))

  During World War II, the United States of America became a country of many camps. There were, of course, the military training camps that sprang up across all the fifty states. There were the internment camps, where people who had called America their home for years were suddenly forcibly relocated simply because they were Japanese or German. And there were the POW camps, where German soldiers captured in Northern Africa or Europe were sent and held until the war was over. One such camp was opened near Abilene, Texas, at Camp Barkeley.

  Living near a POW camp was an odd experience, to be sure. The Germans were allowed to seek employment in the community or work on base, all for a wage, which they could use to purchase goods or save for when they returned home. Because they were prisoners of war, they were to be treated with respect and dignity. And, because they were in America, they also were treated to some of the finer points of American culture, such as diverse food, jazz music, and the glitz and glamour of the movies.

  For a great majority of the German POWs, their experience in the states was overwhelmingly pleasant. Many developed friendships with Americans that they cultivated for years and years, writing letters, planning visits, and on and on.

  But that doesn’t mean everyone enjoyed their stay.

  On March 28, 1944, eleven German prisoners escaped from Camp Barkeley through a tunnel they dug with broken plates and coffee mugs. These men were members of a group known as “The Black Hand,” which was a small faction of zealous Nazi bullies who hoped to return to the war and resume fighting for Hitler.

  When word broke that the Nazis had escaped, Abilene and the surrounding area were flooded with FBI agents and military police, all combing the countryside in search of the wayward prisoners. I imagine they were all prepared for a long, drawn-out manhunt.

  They caught the first three the very next day.

  Every single prisoner was recaptured within a week. And the crazy thing is, every prisoner was captured in an unconventional way. Sleeping in someone’s house. Hiding in a ditch. Or, in the case of the final two, walking along the rails in El Paso.

  The newspapers chalked it up to the idiocy and foolhardiness of the Nazis.

  But, who knows, maybe unbeknownst to everyone, there was an eleven-year-old amateur magician pulling the strings. I’d like to believe so, at least.

  Camp Barkeley was closed in 1945 when the war in Europe ended. All the POW soldiers were sent to the Allied forces for safekeeping. For some of them, the American guards were the last friendly faces they would ever see. For others, the friendships they made while in prison would shape their lives forever.

  It’s the kind of story you couldn’t make up if you tried.

  ISAIAH CAMPBELL was born and bred in Texas. He spent his childhood practicing magic tricks and reading every book in sight. When his first magic wand failed to make his brother disappear, he gave up the pursuit of magic and instead decided to become a writer. For fifteen years he taught and coached students in writing and the arts before he finally took his own advice and started writing books for the twelve-year-old kid he’d once been. He lives in Philadelphia with his wife, three children, and his sanity, although that might be the one thing he’s finally able to make disappear. Find him online at isaiahcampbell.com.

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  ALSO by ISAIAH CAMPBELL

  The Troubles of Johnny Cannon

  The Struggles of Johnny Cannon

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2016 by Isaiah Campbell

  Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Dave Perillo

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  Jacket design by Chloë Foglia

  Interior design by Hilary Zarycky

  The text for this book is set in Garamond.

  The illustrations for this book are rendered digitally.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

  Names: Campbell, Isaiah, author. Title: AbrakaPOW / Isaiah Campbell.

  Description: New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2016] |

  Summary: “A New York City girl moves with her family to a Texas POW camp

  her father runs during WWII, when, during a magic show she performs, Nazi

  prisoners escape; she’s the only one who can find and recapture them”—Provided by publisher. Identifiers: LCCN 2015029762| ISBN 978-1-4814-2634-3 (hardcover) | ISBN 978-1-4814-2635-0 (pbk.) | ISBN 978-1-4814-2636-7 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: World War, 1939-1945—Texas—Abilene—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: World War, 1939-1945—United States—Fiction. | Prisoners of war—Fiction. | Nazis—Fiction. | Moving, Household—Fiction. | Magic tricks—Fiction. | Abilene (Tex.)—History—20th century—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.C15417 Ab 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015029762