The war had taken its toll for years. She’d seen the newsreels, read the papers, even attended a few funerals in Chicago. But today the war happened right in front of her on a large scale. There was nothing hypothetical about the damaged planes, the grimaces of pain, the covered bodies.
In two weeks, the Swedes planned to hold a military funeral for the ten dead American airmen. Her tears spilled down her cheeks.
Rafe touched her arm. “Jen? What’s wrong?”
She whirled around. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? You were there, Rafe. You know what’s wrong. Ten men died in these two days, and,” she glanced around at the boisterous airmen heading for Falun, “how can everyone be so happy about it?”
Rafe studied her in silence for a long moment. Then he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to his side. “No one from the three crews that lost men is on this train. None of us knew them. I may sound callous, but we’ve become,” his thumb stroked her hand as he searched for a word, “hardened to death. So often a plane takes off on a mission and doesn’t come back. Nine or ten guys are gone. Maybe they’re dead, maybe captured. Who knows? We didn’t try to get acquainted with fellows not in our crew because they might not last long enough to be friends.”
He’d had to live with that, day after day after day. Never knowing who would be next. If he would be next. More tears spilled over. “It shouldn’t be like that.”
He wiped away her tears. “No, but we can’t live under Nazi tyranny either. It’s just our rotten luck that our generation is called on to do the fighting. Of course, our fathers would tell us to quit complaining. They had to fight a war too.”
She tried to smile. “My little exhibit I’m fussing over seems so trivial.”
“No.” His voice was stern and he gripped her shoulder. “Your father’s right. Folks need to understand Sweden’s role in the war. The Swedes will enjoy the freedom we’re paying for with our blood, but we have to be grateful for the haven they’re providing us. Thirty-four planes came here in a span of, what, twenty-seven hours? They all carried nine or ten men. That’s over three hundred men still alive who will now enjoy the relative freedom of internment. As well as all the rest of us, and those still to come. That’s why it’s important for you to celebrate Sweden.”
Behind them, a voice loudly exulted, “No more two a.m. wake-up calls. Hallelujah.”
Rafe turned around. “No, but you’ll have a curfew of ten p.m.”
“What?!”
“And you’ll have to answer roll call every morning.”
“What?!”
“And fend off Swedish girls eager to help you spend your money.”
“Really?”
The young airman’s outrage turned to intrigue, and Jennie smiled. Rafe was right. These young men were right to be exhilarated that they still lived.
The day brightened even more when the first words they heard when they stepped off the train in Falun were an ecstatic, “Lieutenant Martell!”
Stockholm
Friday, June 23, 1944
Rafe fought the desire to take off his hat and scratch his scalp. Of all the times for Jennie to experiment with a new disguise, this wasn’t it. Doubts circled like vultures as they approached the train station. Why must he look ridiculous when meeting her look-alike cousin Astrid for the first time?
She’d had made a good point as she slicked back his hair with a wet comb. “Remember, Rafe, how the airport is always under surveillance. The train station may be as well.”
The effect of her handiwork was appalling. His dampened hair blurred with his skin.
“Great. Now I know how I’ll look bald.”
She had penciled a scar onto his cheek. “Stop fussing, and try on these glasses.”
The lenses resembled the bottoms of soda bottles.
“I can’t see straight.”
“I’ll guide you.”
“We’ll attract attention that way. Especially if I walk into walls and trip over things.”
“I won’t let you do that. Besides, what spy would behave in such a way as to attract attention? Watchers won’t give you a second look.”
Something was wrong with that logic. The known factor was that he was about to meet her newfound cousin looking like an ugly yuck. Again. Why couldn’t spies look handsome? He looked at Jennie from the corner of his eye, avoiding the soda bottle lens. She’d tightly braided her hair and wound it around her head like a little girl’s princess crown before hiding it under a wide-brimmed hat. Large sunglasses further hid her face. Women had such an easy time altering their looks.
He should have stayed in Falun and visited with Dan for a few days. Without their uniforms, it was easier to blur the distinction between officers and enlisted men. Dan had carved out quite a life for himself as an informal scout master. Young Swedish boys were enthralled with the influx of these swaggering heroes. Dan had befriended the group that sidled up to him, and organized activities for them. With many Swedish men away in their military, the town fathers approved.
Rafe shook his head. Dan, the den mother. He couldn’t see himself in that role, even if Jennie said he’d acted like that with his enlisted crewmembers.
They reached the stairs to the station. A large black Mercedes idled at the curb. It lacked the customary stove strapped to the rear. A German car with gasoline. Must be someone from the Nazi community. The rear door opened and a blond man stepped out. Jennie froze and clutched Rafe’s arm tight, then pivoted away.
“That’s Lars,” she hissed. “He can’t see me here.”
“So, that’s your goon.” Rafe lowered his glasses and studied the man. He had an arrogant lift to his head and a smirk on his mouth. This man symbolized everything that was wrong in Germany. He and his ilk had forced Rafe’s family to flee the country, along with thousands of other folks with the wrong ancestry. Millions of lives ruined because of the insane desire to be a master race and rule over everyone. He’d cheerfully rub Lars’ face in the dirt. “Must be meeting someone coming in on the train. Any way we can bring him down a notch?”
“If you want to tangle with him, you’re on your own.” Jennie hadn’t released her grip, and his fingers were going numb. “I don’t want any contact with him.”
They followed Lars into the station and out to the platform. The whistle of an incoming train wailed, and the floor beneath their feet vibrated. Rafe pointed to a column supporting the overhang and Jennie scurried behind it. He leaned against the column in a bored manner, arms crossed, hat tilted down. The train rushed in, stopping with a screech of brakes and a gust of hot air.
Lars walked along its length, looking in the windows. As passengers disembarked, he forced them to step around him. He straightened suddenly like he’d put his finger in a socket. But who had he zeroed in on?
“There’s Astrid.” Jennie bounced on her toes, her voice filled with frustration. If not for Lars, she would have run to meet her cousin.
Rafe stiffened as he spotted Jennie’s look-alike. Astrid was Lars’ target. The man edged alongside her as she searched the crowd. He slipped something into Astrid’s coat pocket.
“Did you see that? He plans on framing her somehow.” Rafe scanned the crowd, spotting his quest. “Stay out of sight for now. When I give you a nod, come greet your cousin.”
“But, what…”
Rafe plunged into the milling crowd and hurried to a policeman. “That man there,” he pointed at Lars who was moving away from Astrid but keeping track of her, “is a German agent and he just put something in our friend’s coat pocket without her knowledge.”
A shorter policeman stepped around his partner. “I’ll check the girl, Anders, while you watch the agent.”
Rafe trailed after the policeman.
“Excuse me, miss. Would you empty your pockets and show your identification?”
Astrid looked at the policeman in surprise. She really did look just like Jennie. In fact, maybe Lars thought she was Jennie. Just as they tried to raise str
ife among the Germans, he was trying to get her in trouble with the Swedes. But why would he think she’d be arriving on the train from Uppsala? Unless the Germans had circulated photos of Jennie, and someone had spotted Astrid and reported her whereabouts.
Astrid took a quick look around before reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a folded paper. “This isn’t mine.”
“May I?” The policeman took the paper from her grasp and unfolded it.
Rafe peered over his shoulder. A typed list enumerated Swedish utilities, some of them noted as “soft.” Sabotage targets?
Voices approached. “…under surveillance. She’s an American spy.” Lars brushed forward and stabbed a finger at Astrid.
She gaped at him. “I am not a spy. I’ve never even been to America.”
The policeman continued to finger the list. “This paper is crisp. If it had been in her pocket for any length of time, it would have become wrinkled.” His eyes bore into Lars. “A witness saw you plant this in Mrs. Marklund’s pocket.”
Lars looked down his nose. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Rafe nodded to Jennie. She rushed forward and threw her arms around her cousin.
“Oh, how good to see you, Astrid. How are Uncle Bjorn and Aunt Margaretha?” Her eyes pleaded with Astrid to play along.
“They’re wonderful and send you their love.” Message received. Astrid returned the hug. “But here, everything is confusion.”
The tall policeman led a sputtering Lars away. “This is outrageous. The German Legation will hear about this.”
A door closed behind him, bringing peace.
“I apologize for this unfortunate incident,” the remaining policeman said. He finished copying information from Astrid’s identification and returned it to her, along with a card. “Will you please appear at this address tomorrow and sign the official report?” At her nod, he turned to Rafe. “You will also need to come. May I have your name?”
Rafe silently thanked Ed for providing him with an alias. “Rolf Svenson.”
#
Rafe flicked his fingers at Jennie and mouthed what she took to mean, “Your place.”
She linked arms with Astrid and led her through the station.
Astrid looked back. “What was that all about?”
“You had your first and, hopefully, last encounter with my tormentor. He lit on me the week I arrived in Sweden and seemed to be stalking me, although lately I haven’t noticed him. Maybe now he’ll be sent back to Germany.” What a relief that would be. Imagine not having to watch every person who came into a restaurant, search the sidewalks before exiting a building, looking over her shoulder.
Of course, someone else might fixate on her.
Beside her, Astrid’s eyes widened.
“I should come to Stockholm more often.” She laughed as she claimed her suitcase.
Jennie laughed, too. “You should get along fine with my friends Phyllis and Emma. They enjoy bedeviling the Germans. Some of my adventures with Rafe have been nerve wracking, but he tends to exercise caution.”
To a point anyway. That escapade at the toy store still gave her shivers.
“I thought he would be here with you. I must say, I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”
“He was here. Rafe was Rolf. He spotted Lars planting that list on you, and immediately set about turning the tables on him before he could have you arrested.”
Astrid stopped short. “That man with the coke bottle glasses? He’s your Rafe? I thought you said he was gravy. Isn’t that supposed to mean he’s good looking?”
Jennie burst out laughing as she tugged her cousin outside. Heads turned in her direction, including Rafe’s. He’d removed those awful glasses. Astrid hadn’t seen him, so she angled their way to pass close by him.
“Yes, that’s how Phyllis describes him. Today, though, he was in his ‘disreputable’ disguise. Good thing, too. Now he’ll have to admit I was right to insist on it.”
She passed too close to Rafe. He poked her ribs and she could have sworn she heard a soft, “Hmpf.”
“So we’ll spend much of the day on the water?” Astrid and Jennie relaxed in the Lindquists’ living room and discussed their plans for Midsummer Day.
Jennie glanced at the clock and tried not to fidget. Rafe should have joined them by now. Her big surprise was due any minute. “Yes, none of us has spent much time out on the archipelago. We thought we’d find an island where we can go ashore and have a picnic lunch.”
“Excellent idea. Even if it’s a private island, we can still go ashore because of Allemänsträtten. Enjoying the countryside or the islands is every man’s right, as long as we do no damage.” Astrid leaned back and stifled a yawn. “Just think. The days will now start getting shorter.”
Jennie chuckled. “Yes. Sunrise today came at 22:30. That’s been very difficult to adjust to.”
Just before her eyes strayed to the clock again, a knock sounded on the door and she jumped to her feet. “Rafe took his time. I hope the policeman didn’t keep him this long.”
But Rafe wasn’t at the door. His crewmates Steve, Cal, Alan, and Dan spilled into the room. Dan grabbed her hand and kissed it.
“You don’t know how hard it was not to say anything about this little trip when you and Lieutenant Martell left Falun yesterday.”
His eternal smile stretched across his face. Jennie hugged the young man she thought of as Rafe’s younger brother. The absence of the other enlisted men didn’t bother her. Rusty and Harold had already used their monthly passes, and George anticipated a big holiday weekend with a Swedish girl. Since the military expected non-fraternization between officers and enlisted men, the three missing men would have created an awkward situation. Dan was a special case. He transcended rank and could make himself at home anywhere. Jennie had impulsively invited him the previous day during a moment when Rafe was out of earshot.
A throat cleared noisily, and Dan jumped back. Rafe stood in the still-open doorway.
#
“Lieutenant Martell!” Dan pumped Rafe’s hand like yesterday hadn’t happened. “It’s sure good to see you again.”
Rafe spotted his fellow officers, and shook their hands with as much enthusiasm as Dan, amid a lot of back slapping.
“I rounded the corner in time to see a bunch of men disappear into the Lindquists’ apartment and couldn’t imagine what was going on.” He turned to Jennie. “Did you know they were coming?” His crewmates’ presence had to be at her instigation. How had she known he longed to see them?
“I invited them to join us for the holiday.” Her last word came out in a squeak as he hugged the stuffing out of her.
Finally, he turned to the last person in the room. “Astrid.”
Jennie’s cousin stood. “I am so pleased to meet you, Rolf Svenson. Thank you for rescuing me.”
His crewmates looked perplexed.
Cal pointed from Jennie to Astrid. “Are you two sisters?”
Steve looked from Astrid to Rafe. “You two haven’t met before?”
Alan peered behind Rafe. “Who is Rolf Svenson?”
Dan smiled. “You’re long-lost relatives who didn’t know you’re related.”
“We are indeed.” Jennie introduced them. “Astrid arrived on the train today from Uppsala. No sooner had she stepped off the train than a German agent planted a sabotage list in her pocket.” Palms pressed together, she clapped her fingers. “And it was Rafe to the rescue.”
The men insisted on hearing the whole tale.
“That’s what you do here in Stockholm?” Steve couldn’t seem to comprehend Rafe’s status. “Tangle with German spies? What happened to reading newspapers?”
“Boring.” His smile never faded, but Dan’s brows drew together. “That’s way too sedentary for the lieutenant.”
Beside him on the sofa, Alan nudged his foot. “Sedentary. That’s a mighty big word for you, Mr. Quigley.”
“I’ve been doing lots of reading myself. I think I’ve read e
very English book in Falun, and they’ve enriched my vocabulary.” His nose angled upward and his smile didn’t falter.
From his other side, Cal gave him a stingless head slap. “Good for you, little man.” He shifted and crossed an ankle over his knee. “I hate to say this, but after we’ve hiked every trail and biked every route…”
Alan took over. “…canoed around the lake a half dozen times…”
“…played baseball and basketball and football until we’ve worn out three pairs of shoes each.” Steve hesitated. “Paradise has become monotonous.”
Alan scrunched his shoulders. “Sounds like a rotten thing to say when we could so easily have ended up rotting in a German prison camp.”
Rafe’s thumb absently massaged the palm of Jennie’s hand as he studied the bombardier. Alan looked far from rested after a month of internment. Frown lines dug into his forehead between his eyes. Something was wrong. “Have you heard from Ruby?”
“No, and I don’t expect to for a long time to come. Hopefully she’s received my first letter by now.” The frown lines deepened. “I’m told our letters can take weeks to arrive at their destination. They’re even placed in new envelopes so our families won’t know where we are. What’s the big secret? And then Ruby’s letters have to take the same slow route in reverse. More weeks. We’ve only been here thirty-five days. In another week, though, maybe…” His voice trailed off.
“We’ll have a memorable weekend that should help make the time go faster, right?” Cal directed his question to Rafe and Jennie.
Steve cut in. “We had a look at the archipelago yesterday. Looks like a great place to explore.”
“They got to go flying.” Alan still looked glum. “They were taken to the air force’s parking lot in Västerås to exercise their skills.”
Rafe smiled in sympathy. A bombardier had no need to exercise his skills to keep current. Between missing his wife and his forced inactivity, Alan was sinking into depression. “Well, tonight we can all take part in the spy business.” His words brought anticipation to his crewmates’ faces. “We’ll go to the restaurant at the Grand Hotel. There’ll be Germans there. We’ve heard of American airmen who’ve discussed military strategy, bogus of course, and sketched plans on the back of menus. Then when they leave, they watch the Germans scramble for the menus. We’ll have our own animated conversation and see if we can’t fool some eavesdroppers.”
No Neutral Ground: A World War II Romance (Promise for Tomorrow Book 2) Page 27
