by Alisha Paige
Now that America is headed for war, it looks like more and more lives will be lost. I am just so miserable without him. I wonder if he thinks of us and wonders about his baby girl. He doesn’t even know that she’s a girl, but if he is alive, I bet he thinks of us often. I know he would come home if he could. I just don’t understand what could have happened to him. Cliff is as blond as the morning sun; surely he wouldn’t be mistaken as a Jewish man. Pa is no help, though he tries. He even encourages me to date now. Can you imagine that? I will never date another man. I will simply wait for my husband to come home, because he is coming home.
I’m going to bed now, diary. I feel like closing my eyes and never waking up, but I know I must, for Annalisa’s sake and Mama says the hurt will never go away, but it will get easier. I don’t see that happening either. I still feel as horrible as I did three years ago, when he missed the birth of our baby and then Christmas and every holiday after that. He’s missing our whole lives and I’m missing him horribly.
Good night, Diary.
~*~
“Where will you be stationed, son?” Bill asked as he puffed on a cigar in the parlor.
“England,” Hank replied, taking a puff on his own cigar as he shifted his lean, long legs on the small antique French sofa. Were the French really that small he wondered? He’d find out soon enough. He’d be fighting side by side with them, as well as the British and the Russians in an all out struggle to stop the evil Axis from taking over the rest of the world. Hank volunteered to join the Army as soon as FDR declared war on Japan. “I’ll get my paratrooper training over there, sir.”
Bill nodded thoughtfully. So many young men were signing up to fight in a foreign country with a bare minimum or no military training whatsoever. Hopefully Hank would get proper training before jumping out of airplanes, onto the battlefield. It was incomprehensible to Bill, but he was terribly proud of him. What capacity would Cliff have served if he were alive? Bill was certain he was dead and blamed himself completely.
He never dreamed the Nazis would rise to power as fast as they had, nor did he dream that Hitler would become the lying dictator that he had become, first forming a false pact with the USSR and then invading the unsuspecting country. He had already taken Poland and Czechoslovakia and stories of heinous war crimes circulated all the way from Europe to the United States. Bill feared that most of the tales were watered down versions of terrible atrocities suffered by the Jewish people, as well as anyone attempting to aid or shelter the Jews. He felt sure that Cliff’s kind heart might have lost him his life. Bill had decided long ago that he never wanted to learn the details of his son-in-law’s death.
“I hope you don’t mind if I make an observation?” Bill asked, scratching his chin, truly curious.
“Go right ahead, sir, but I think I can anticipate what you’re going to say,” Hank replied.
“You seem much more anxious to go than other young men your age.”
Hank sighed and stretched his long legs, before taking another thoughtful puff on his cigar and exhaling slowly.
“Don’t get me wrong, Bill, I’m mad as hell about Pearl Harbor and I’m prepared to fight and die for my country if necessary, but as you well know, I have personal reasons.”
Bill nodded knowingly. He wasn’t surprised that Hank was itching to fight in a war so badly that he could taste it. He missed Cliff. Something had happened to him in Germany or Austria, no one knew exactly when he was last seen, but Hank aimed to find out. Germany was allied with Japan and that was reason alone for Hank to go, period.
“I want those bastards, Bill,” Hank said, anger lacing his words as he ran a hand through his thick, brown hair. “I stay up nights wondering how they did it. The reports of those horrible camps they’re sending people to. I’ve heard that some of them existed long before the war even started. How long could a person live in conditions like that?”
“Louise feels sure that he’s still alive,” Bill added.
“Is that what you think?” Hank asked. For a second, a glimmer of hope passed before his eyes.
Bill puckered his lips, wishing he could give Cliff’s brother a better answer, but instead, shook his head no. “No, I don’t son. I think we would have heard from him by now. Surely he could have contacted the embassy. I was in contact with them every day for nearly a year with not one word from him. His letters from Louise have gone unanswered and were eventually returned to us. The embassy cleared out his post office box and sent them home. His hotel room in Vienna was untouched and all of his belongings were still there. It’s as if he disappeared into thin air.”
“Do you think we’ll ever know?” Hank asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
Bill’s voice broke when he answered. “I’m afraid not, son. I’m sorry.”
Hank raked the sides of his face with his hands, making a scratching sound against his whiskers. He sighed deeply, sick and disgusted, haunted by thoughts of Cliff’s death, a mere month before the birth of his daughter.
Hank desperately needed to know what happened to his brother and there was no one else to talk to about it. “What do you think happened to him? I mean, what does your gut tell you?”
“You know, I’ve asked myself that question a million times and I just don’t know. The Nazis certainly know how to make someone disappear, so I feel like it happened at their hands, but I’m still not sure. It nags at my mind and Hank, if I knew how dangerous it was to send him...”
Hank cut him off and raised his hand. “Don’t do that to yourself. Cliff wanted to go and loved working for you. You of all people shouldn’t feel guilty. You’ve helped my family in so many ways and not just Cliff and I. My mother and sisters, too. Cliff loved you and he loved your daughter more than anything.”
Bill choked back a sob and rubbed the back of his neck with a large hand. He had grown gray at the temples now and his age was beginning to show, but to Hank he was still just as strong as the day he’d found Cliff and him, hiding out in his barn.
“Cliff was a wonderful young man and we miss him terribly. My Porcupine will never be the same and it just kills me that Annalisa will never know her father.”
Hank wiped another tear from the corner of his eye and nodded in agreement. “It just makes me damn sick and my poor mother is a wreck about it. She believes he’s alive, too and I don’t have the heart to convince her otherwise.”
“I suspect it will take years and years for any of us to feel normal again.”
Hank nodded, taking another puff on his cigar, suddenly looking mature beyond his years, with red rimmed eyes. Bill couldn’t help but wonder what Sally would do if her only living son was also killed overseas, but he didn’t think it would do any good to mention that fact to Hank. Surely the thought had already crossed his mind and he would eventually be drafted anyways.
Bill tried to change the subject. “Are you still seeing that lovely young lady?”
Hank shook his head no again and his eyes filled with pain. “No, I just wasn’t myself after Cliff disappeared and wasn’t much company. We broke up a few months later and I heard she married a boy from her hometown.”
“Well, maybe she just wasn’t the right girl,” Bill replied, wishing he wouldn’t have asked.
“I guess not.”
An uncomfortable silence grew between the two of them. Neither of them could think of anything cheerful to talk about, mostly because there simply wasn’t, with Cliff gone and Annalisa without a father, Louise without a husband, Hank without a brother and now America going to war. Most of the country was still in shock that an aerial attack had occurred on American soil at all, especially when America had stayed neutral for so long. Japan had certainly taken care of that and America had been plunged into war nearly over night. Thousands of Americans were gone in the blink of an eye and now more deaths were imminent, but many brave souls were lining up to defend their country.
“I think I’m gonna hit the sack, son,” Bill said, covering his mouth as he yaw
ned.
“Me too,” Hank replied, rising and snuffing his cigar out in a large silver ash tray.
Hank was staying the night in the spare bedroom off the kitchen and would be traveling by train the next day to visit his mother and two sisters before leaving for England in two weeks. He wanted to stop by first to say goodbye to the people who had helped him and his brother out in their most desperate days. Bill’s family had become part of his family and now he wanted to say goodbye to Louise and his niece. Annalisa was a lovely, curious little girl. His heart had nearly twisted into two when he held her for the first time, even before her father had had the chance to hold her. He knew Cliff would want him to keep in contact with her and Hank intended to be a part of the little girl’s life as long as he lived. It was hard to believe that Cliff had been gone for three whole years now and though time had flown quickly, the pain was just as fresh as it was back in ‘38 when Cliff never came home for Christmas, missing the birth of his daughter.
Hank passed through the dark kitchen, making his way to the bedroom that had been prepared for him. The entire house was deathly quiet. The wooden floors creaked beneath his feet. He slowed his steps in an effort to quiet the noisy boards and not waken anyone, but a door at the end of the hall opened and a tall shadow filled the doorway. Hank turned at the sound and met Lily’s sleepy gaze as she wrapped a cotton robe tightly around her shoulders and seemed to sleep walk toward the kitchen. Did she even see him standing there? She walked straight up to him and landed squarely in his chest. She let out a squeal to wake the dead and Hank instinctively closed his hand over her mouth. Two, round green eyes stared back at him and when he was sure she had calmed down, he released his hand.
“Sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I didn’t see you. When did you get in?”
“This afternoon. I didn’t know you were here. You weren’t at dinner.”
“I was sleeping. I’m half exhausted out of my mind. Finals are this week and I’ve been studying endlessly. I have one more exam on Friday.”
“Oh, well, good luck,” Hank said as he turned to go to bed.
Lily grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. I was going to the kitchen for some hot cocoa. Care to join me?”
Hank stared at the floor and then glanced at Lily in the dark. She was a beautiful girl and something was different about her. For one thing, Hank could never remember Lily ever in his life saying something nice to him or acting as if she’d even remotely enjoy his company.
“Nah, I better head on to bed.”
Lily shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself, but I make the best cocoa in all the world!”
Hank halfway grinned. “Well, since you put it like that, how can I refuse?”
“Come on,” Lily said, pulling him by the same sleeve she’d tugged at earlier, leading the way into the kitchen as if Hank needed directions.
Lily began mixing cocoa and milk in a pan and stirring. Hank took a seat at the kitchen table and watched her by the light of a candle flickering on the windowsill. “So, how long until you’re officially a nurse?”
“After my last final, I guess. I start doing rounds here in the city and I told Pa that I want to help out with the war effort, but he just laughed at me, as if he could keep me here. Pa doesn’t think we’ll be at war very long.”
“Well, I hope he’s right, but somehow I doubt it. The British and the French have been fighting the Germans, Italians and Japanese for over two years now.”
“That’s what I told him,” Lily replied as she lit the stove and kept stirring the chocolate. “Wouldn’t that be something if I ran into you over there?”
“I’m hoping I don’t get hurt over there, but I guess I’d rather end up in the hospital than in the morgue.”
Lily didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say. Hank wished the second he said it that he hadn’t. He knew she was thinking of Cliff and so was he. He surprised Lily by what he asked next. “Do you think Cliff is still alive?”
Lily’s spine stiffened at the question and she stopped stirring for half a second. She didn’t answer right away. “Yes, I do.”
Something stirred within Hank. “Why?”
“I’m not sure. Partly because I want to him to be, for Louise’s sake and partly because I just don’t want to give up on hope. Can you imagine what it would mean to our family if he came home? It would fix everything. Louise would be happy again. Annalisa would have a father. Pa would stop feeling so darn guilty. Mama would stop fussing over Louise like a mother hen. I would have my sister back again. She’s practically in a coma.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s still not any better is she?”
Lily shook her head no. “She puts on a happy face for Annalisa, but it’s not real and even Louise knows it. She acts like someone else, like a person that’s too happy. Louise was never silly like that. She plasters on that smile and I worry about her. I worry that Annalisa will grow up never knowing her true mother. Remember how funny she used to be?”
Hank laughed and nodded. “Yes, that was a long time ago, but I remember. She always had the best personality.”
“Exactly. She was so full of life and happy go lucky, even when I was a mean little thing,” Lily admitted.
Hank laughed again, pleasantly surprised. “You were a mean little thing, weren’t you, Miss Lily?”
“I’m afraid so. I feel bad about it now.”
“What made you change? You’re a different girl altogether. As long as we’ve known each other, you never spoke to me, much less invited me to share a nightcap of hot chocolate. Remember when Louise shared her lunch with Cliff and he shared what she gave him with me?”
“Yes, of course. You two were so hungry. I’ve thought about that a million times and I’ve felt horrible about it.”
“You didn’t want Louise sharing her food with us.”
“You know, I’ve asked myself why I acted like that and the only thing I could come up with was that I was jealous how easy it was for Louise to talk to people and they instantly liked her. I never felt pretty and I didn’t make friends like Louise did. I’ve told Louise how sorry I am for it and I really am. I guess I finally grew up.”
“I guess we all have. Oh, and Lily?”
“Yes?” Lily asked as she removed the pan from the fire and ladled hot cocoa into two mugs.
“You were never pretty.”
Lily met his gaze with actual hurt in her eyes and disbelief at what he’d said when she had just poured out her heart to him in an effort to make amends.
Oh boy, Hank thought, she really had changed. He’d better hurry and tell her what he really thought. “You were gorgeous.”
A slow smile slid across Lily’s features and her eyes softened. “Thanks, Hank.”
Hank took one of the mugs of cocoa as she sat down next to him at the table.
“I always thought you were quite a looker, too,” she added, arching one dark brow.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“You do now,” she replied with an easy smile.
~ * ~
Cliff woke up, freezing half to death. He was curled up with another man, hoping to generate more body heat, but their thin striped suits were no help against the bitter German winter. He scratched at his chest until it was nearly raw. Damn lice. Even they ate better than he. Something about his bunk mate didn’t feel right. He was too cold, colder than Cliff. He pressed on his thin back with two bony fingers. The man didn’t budge.
“Hey, Lucus, wake up,” Cliff whispered. The SS guard was coming and he’d have to be on his feet or the guard may decide to make an example of a lazy Jew and shoot him on the spot.
Lucus felt hard as a rock. Cliff closed his eyes. He placed his fingers on Lucus’s neck to check for a pulse, but felt none. This was his third bunk mate to die in his sleep and in a way, Cliff thought Lucus was lucky today. At least he wouldn’t have to get up in the bitter cold and work sixteen hours, with hardly a ladle of soup in his belly. No longer would he wake,
fearing the SS guards and his inevitable death. That sweet day had come for him. In a way, Cliff envied the sleeping skeleton.
Having witnessed thousands of murders, he’d grown accustomed to dealing with corpses on a daily basis. Would he ever see Louise again? Certainly she must think him dead. By now, his child was four or five. He’d nearly lost track of the years. Someone had told him that the United States had entered the war back in ‘41. He was almost sure that it was 1943 now, though he was never sure of the exact date, only of the season. Cliff had the grim task of hauling the bodies to the crematorium. The smell of rotting flesh had left him long ago. He no longer smelled it, realizing that his brain had simply learned how to shut out some of the horrors around him.
He often thought back to the day the brown shirted SS man walked up to him in Vienna and asked him what he was writing. Cliff had been sitting on a park bench, eating a sandwich, recalling what he had witnessed during Kristallnacht. The German spoke broken English and Cliff was sure that he’d understood him when he told him that he was a journalist from America, writing about the rise of the Nazi party. The SS man ordered him to hand his notebook over. He scanned the pages, too quickly to have even read them, before he threw it to the ground and pointed his rifle at Cliff’s head. He marched Cliff through town, yelling something in German as others pretended not to notice. He ordered him to board a military truck and was driven to the train tracks where he was immediately put onto a waiting boxcar, already loaded and horribly overcrowded with Jewish men, women and children. Cliff and the others waited until nightfall before the train left, taking them to a concentration camp called Sachsenhausen, located in Oranienburg, Germany.
So the rumors had been true. Hitler already had prison camps open and filled with mostly Jews, gypsies, social outcasts and anyone who posed any type of threat to the Nazi Regime. Would the war ever end and if it did, what would become of them? Would the camp be taken over by another invading country? What if the Russians took it over? Would they be freed or continue to barely exist on a subhuman level of desperation, day to day?
