Beyond the Shadow of War

by Diane Moody

  “What’s he like? Tell me.”

  She wiped her face with a crumpled handkerchief then attempted to square her shoulders and sit straighter. “Eddie’s such a nice wonderful boy. Just a farmer’s son from somewhere called Iowa.” A wavering smile lightened her face. “He’s just eighteen. He lied about his age when he enlisted a couple years ago so he could do his part to help win the war.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  She dipped her eyes with a shy smile. “I grew up in Thorpe Abbotts in Norfolk. My father has a pub there, and I worked there after school. Then when the war started, the Americans built an airfield there for the 100th Bomb Group. That was Eddie’s group. One night he came into the pub with his friends, and they were all teasing him because he didn’t like the pints much. He came up to the bar and started talking to me.” Her trembling smile widened. “It was love at first sight. For both of us.”

  “Then that’s what you must focus on while we cross the sea. That love that drew you to each other, and the new life you’ll make together. And remember that just because you’re moving to America now doesn’t mean you’ll never see your parents again. These big boats travel both ways, you know.”

  Ruth took a shuddering breath and slowly let it go. “Yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought about that before.” She straightened a little more. “Thank you … Anna, is it?”

  “Anya. And you’re welcome.” Anya stood. “Why don’t you and I go join our friends inside where it’s warm.”

  Ruth stood and immediately embraced Anya, clinging to her. “Thank you. Thank you ever so much. I don’t feel quite so afraid now.”

  “My pleasure, Ruth.”

  38

  By the time the Wisteria’s passengers were seated for dinner, any who might have braved the cold wind on deck would no longer be able to see the shores of England. Some experienced a mild wave of seasickness, but most were able to enjoy the bounty of food offered in the ship’s dining area. Unlike the peculiar dishes served at Camp Tidworth, the Wisteria presented more traditional English cooking which the girls welcomed eagerly.

  “Quite a sight for sore eyes, it is,” Helen said, appraising the steaming cottage pie before taking a bite. “No more ration coupons or Lord Woolton pies for us, and aren’t we glad?”

  “I have to say, I rather like a good Lord Woolton pie,” Agatha added. “My mum’s recipe was fabulous. We always fought over it, my brothers and sisters.”

  Gigi’s lip curled as she feigned a shiver. “Not me. I couldn’t stand the stuff. I can’t wait to get to America and eat their juicy cheeseburgers and salty French fries and thick, rich milkshakes like we served at the Rainbow.”

  With Joss sleeping in one arm, Kate closed her eyes and savored a bite. “Mmm. I had forgotten what really good food tastes like.”

  “And a nice cup of tea, finally,” Helen said. “The kitchen staff at Tidworth hadn’t a clue how to brew a proper cuppa. I’d wager a guess some Brits are staffing the Wisteria’s kitchen.”

  Gigi reached for her cup. “Rather a delightful trip ahead, all things consi‌—‌”

  “Whoa.” Helen braced her hands on the edge of the table. “Did anyone else feel that?”

  The salt and pepper shakers slid a couple of inches.

  “Feel what?” Gigi asked.

  “That,” Helen said. “The ship tilting.”

  “Only a little,” Kate said. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know. I feel a bit off balance.”

  Gigi buttered a dinner roll. “You’ll get used to it. They say it sometimes takes a while to find your sea legs.”

  They continued their conversations, much of it centered on food and all the other things they’d missed out on during the war. Anya noticed that Helen wasn’t eating, just pushing food around on her plate. Moments later, the salt and pepper shakers slid back the other direction.

  Ruth set down her fork. “Yes, I felt that one. I think I‌—‌”

  Helen turned just in time to spill the contents of her stomach on the floor. Ruth immediately did the same. Moments later, their actions spawned a chain effect of lost meals throughout the noisy dining room.

  When Anya noticed Kate looking a bit green in the gills, she grabbed Joss and helped her stand. “You and Joss need to get out of here. Can you find your way back to the cabin?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then wait for me at the first staircase. I’ll see if I can help Ruth and Helen.”

  A quarter hour later, the girls straggled back to their cabin. Only Anya and Gigi had been spared the miserable effects, despite the sickening stench which had quickly overtaken the ship’s corridors. They helped the others to their bunks, then one by one assisted their cabinmates as they changed from soiled clothing to nightgowns. By the time everyone was settled‌—‌at least for the time being‌—‌they fell into their beds exhausted.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell us we’d be so sick?” Agatha groaned from her top bunk.

  “If they had, would you have stayed home?” someone asked.

  “No. I suppose not.”

  “I’d have thought about it, that’s for sure,” Helen added.

  “The motion sickness will pass, won’t it?” another asked. “We’re not meant to be sick all the way to America, are we?”

  The quiet chatter continued, though Anya tried her best to tune them out, needing a break from the subject.

  “Anya, why do you think you didn’t get sick like everyone else?” Gigi rolled over on her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. With Anya on the adjacent upper bunk, their pillows were just inches apart. “I had years of practice with my younger brothers and sisters. Someone was always tossing their biscuits at home. Since I was the eldest, Mum expected me to help care for the little ones. She said I had a stomach made of cast iron. I suppose she was right. How about you? How’d you keep your biscuits down today?”

  “I’m not sure.” A dark cloud of memories troubled her mind. Instinctively her stomach clenched. “I suppose I saw too much during the war. Things I wish I’d never seen. Maybe I learned to push through it because there wasn’t time to be sick or weak.”

  Gigi twirled a curl with her fingers. “That makes sense. I’d forgotten you were in the Dutch Resistance. So tell me. What’s the worst thing you ever saw?”

  Anya winced as the scene flashed on the screen of her mind’s eye. She and her friend Wim, hiding in the woods alongside his family’s farm, knowing something was terribly wrong when they found little Inge crawling in a cultivated field. The little one was the youngest sister of Anya’s best friend Lieke. Like so many other Dutch Jews, they’d come to the Boorman’s farm to hide during the Occupation. Moments later, Wim had grabbed the child and rushed her back to Anya before inching his way to the barn to find out what was going on.

  Before he returned, a German soldier had pressed a gun to the back of Anya’s skull. Moments later, he shot little Inge with a single bullet to her forehead. Anya had screamed, wailing at the heartless German as blood poured from the baby’s head. A second later, she set Inge’s body down just before throwing up.

  Despite her protests, the German had forced her to her feet, shoving her forward with his gun to her back. She’d begged him to let her take the baby’s body. “Leave her,” he’d barked. “Let her body rot and serve as fertilizer for the crops. Perhaps she’ll be worth something after all.”

  Her eyes stung with the memory, and she could do nothing to stop them. Wim had snuck back, smashing the German’s head with a large stone, thinking he’d killed the soldier. Wim held her in his arms, heartbroken to tell her what he’d discovered at the farmhouse. His entire family had been killed‌—‌lined up and executed. All of them, including all the Jews they’d sheltered in the hideout beneath their barn. Even her dear friend Lieke. All of them dead.

  Then, as she and Wim comforted each other in that ghastly moment, another shot rang out. Wim slumped against her. Only then did she see the smoke of
the dying German’s pistol now aimed at her. A second later, he crumbled to the ground and died. As Wim’s life was slipping away, he told her to run as fast as she could, but she refused, pleading for him to hold on. His hand trembled as he placed his palm against her cheek, his eyes struggling to focus.

  I love you, Anya. I have always‌—‌”

  “Anya?” Gigi asked, tapping her hand and interrupting the haunting memory. “Sweetie, are you all right?”

  Anya swallowed hard, thankful to blink away the horrible memories. “No. I was just remembering …”

  Gigi reached for Anya’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m so sorry. It was a stupid thing to ask. Please forgive me.”

  Anya took in a deep breath and tried to relax. “No forgiveness needed.”

  “Sometimes I think I haven’t an iota of sense left in my ridiculous head. It’s bad enough we’ve had to wade through all the muck and sop up all their sick. The last thing we needed was to scrape off the scab of some ghastly memory. Oh Anya, I’m so sorry.”

  She was surprised at the glistening in Gigi’s eyes and the honesty of her apology. The bubbly blonde was never one to let down her guard, always careful to maintain a mask of confidence and control.

  Anya squeezed back. “It’s all right. But thank you.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For caring enough to apologize, even if it wasn’t necessary.”

  Gigi gave a shrug. “Oh, you know me … just one big walking, talking apology.”

  No sooner had their conversation ended than the ship took a hard roll one way, then back the other. The room filled with moans and the gross and disgusting sound of stomachs heaving whatever was left in them.

  Gigi groaned as she jumped down from her bunk. “Here we go again.”

  39

  THE WISTERIA WAVE

  The Ship’s Daily Newspaper

  Saturday, 2 February 1946

  Ship’s position as of noon today: 49° 40’ N. Latitude; 20° 30’ W

  A Word from our Captain

  By now, as we continue steaming along these waters to the shores of America, I hope those of you who have suffered from seasickness have at last found relief. We have made every effort to make you as comfortable as possible, thanking Mother Nature for doing her part to smooth the waves upon which we now travel. A tremendous thanks to the medical staff and the Red Cross personnel on board who have worked diligently to aid those affected. Please do not hesitate to ask for help if you are still under the weather.

  We look forward to seeing more of you at our evening events. The onboard staff have worked tirelessly to provide nightly entertainment for your journey. You will find a list of those activities on the reverse page.

  In addition, the Red Cross continues to offer a wide range of classes to help you adapt to your new life in America. You will find them listed on the reverse page as well. I hope you will avail yourselves of these many opportunities.

  If we may be of further assistance, please let us know by contacting any of the stewards on board.

  May God grant us smooth sailing ahead,

  Captain Neville Masterson

  * * * * *

  And Now a Word from our Chaplain

  What a grand privilege and honor it is to sail with all of you on your inaugural voyage to America! Please join us for daily services at half past ten each morning in the ship’s chapel, B Deck, Aft, Portside, next to the ship’s Library. We sing hymns, pray, and read a brief passage of Scripture. All faiths are welcome.

  Vespers over the ship’s public address system are offered each evening at half past seven.

  As we sail ever closer to America’s shores, many of you may find yourselves second-guessing your decision. Perhaps your seasickness is accompanied by an overwhelming wave of homesickness. For those with children, you may worry for your little one’s health and happiness as he or she is carried to a strange land amongst a new family of strangers.

  Whatever your lot, I am available to help, and I welcome you to stop by for a visit. My office is located on B Deck, next to the Chapel in Cabin 236. My office hours are 8:00 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. daily.

  Wishing you God’s richest blessings,

  Chaplain William Traverse

  * * * * *

  From the Editor

  As we continue our historic adventure across the high seas, I would like to take this opportunity to remind you of the ongoing classes and workshops available to you each and every day. As Captain Masterson mentioned, you will find them listed on the reverse page along with a map showing classroom locations.

  For the musically gifted, it’s not too late to join the Wisteria Orchestra or the Brides’ Chorus as both rehearse American tunes for our nightly concerts as well as the patriotic concert scheduled for our last night together. Come one, come all!

  For the beauties amongst us (don’t be shy!), don’t forget to enter our Beauty Contest to be held Friday evening, 8 February. Consolation prizes for the two runner-ups and a grand prize for the lucky girl crowned Most Beautiful!

  But wait! Move over, Mummy. We haven’t forgotten the darling babies on board. On Saturday afternoon, 9 February, we’ll all enjoy our Beautiful Baby contest. Categories determined by age: newborn to 18 months; 18 months to 2 years; 2 years and above. Is your baby the cutest? Find out Saturday!

  I’m quite confident that every bride on board will enjoy this headline from America: “Hundreds of Yankee Husbands Await War Brides’ Arrival.” The SS Argentina, the first official “War Bride Ship,” which departed from Southampton on 26 January, is scheduled to arrive at New York Harbor on Monday, a day late due to a fierce storm encountered approximately 1,000 miles from American soil. The Argentina charts the course with 452 war brides and 145 babies on board, commencing “Operation Diaper Run” which will transport thousands of English, Scottish, Irish, and Welsh brides to their new homes in America. These anxious American husbands will be joined by the Mayor of New York, a band, and hundreds of news reporters and cameramen.

  Let’s hope they’ll give the Wisteria the same warm welcome when we arrive next week!

  While the Americans prepare for the arrival of the Argentina, back in Southampton today, the Queen Mary will board her first war bride passengers, expecting over 2,400 to follow our voyage across the icy Atlantic.

  Now for a final word. We’re all anxious to see our husbands and explore our new land, but until we do, let’s all make a special effort to get to know each other. If one of your cabinmates is a bit shy, include her in your activities. If she’s feeling ill, do the right thing and help her out. If she’s a bit fatigued from caring for her child, why not give her a break by offering to watch her little one for a while or suggesting she take little Robert or Mary to the ship’s nursery? We’re all in this together, ladies, so let’s be good neighbors to one another.

  Elizabeth Corbett, Editor

  * * * * *

  Have You Made Your Appointment?

  The Wisteria Beauty Shop still has a few openings for hair styling and manicures before we dock in New York. Look your best for your American husband! Let the professionals help you look “shipshape” when you step off the Wisteria!

  Today’s Lectures and Workshops

  Sewing Basics

  Cooking American Style

  American Fashion

  Raising Children in America

  Understanding the Government of the United States

  “What Did You Say?” A Study of English vs. American English Colloquialisms

  “Where’s That?” A Brief Overview of the American States

  Books Available in the Library

  And Now Tomorrow by Rachel Field

  A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith

  Leave Her to Heaven by Ben Ames Williams

  The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas

  Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther

  An Atlas of Infant Behavior by Arnold Gesell

  I Never Left Home by Bob Hope

  Our Hearts Were
Young and Gay by Cornelia Otis Skinner and Emily Kimbrough

  Tonight’s Movie

  The Bells of St. Mary

  Starring Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman

  By Monday, most of Anya’s cabinmates were feeling better, growing more accustomed to the ship’s constant motion. Ruth still fought the dreadful nausea, unable to keep anything down. She insisted on staying in bed, moaning as she turned over and pulled the covers over her head. Worried about the fragile wisp of a girl, Anya promised to bring her something bland to nibble on.

  The rest of them enjoyed a hearty breakfast including actual chilled oranges which they hadn’t seen since the war began, and real eggs instead of powdered. Sautéed potatoes, pancakes with real maple syrup, and an assortment of flaky pastries rounded out the morning meal. Most of those who’d been especially ill took a pass on the sausage and bacon, but Gigi and Anya indulged themselves.

  Afterward, they returned to their stateroom briefly to don coats and scarves before heading to the deck for some fresh air. Anya noticed Ruth’s empty bunk, hoping that was a good sign. Maybe she was taking a hot shower or bath. With no more water rationing, everyone on board was raving about the sheer luxury of soaking in a nice hot bubble bath. Hopefully, Ruth was finding some relief. Anya left a wrapped pastry and orange for her on her pillow.

  As they stepped out on the windy deck, Anya gazed up at the puffy white clouds dotting the perfect azure sky as the Wisteria cut her way through the rolling waves. She took a deep breath, savoring the tingling bite of frigid air as it filled her lungs.

  Gigi joined her at the rail. “Don’t you wish we could sleep out here instead of that smelly old stateroom?”

  “Apart from the fact we’d freeze to death the first hour, I would say yes. It’s a relief to breathe clean air again.”

  “Let’s walk, shall we, girls?” Helen said as she came alongside Agatha. “Who knows if we’ll have another chance to enjoy a pretty day out here.”