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Children of the Promise

Page 65

by Dean Hughes


  “I don’t understand,” Sister Stoltz said. “What are you going to do?”

  “The man coming today is a member of a group that hides Jews from the Nazis. I’ve told him I will help make false papers for some of these people. I have a chance to save some families from the Gestapo.”

  “But what if you’re caught?”

  “I’m not too worried about that. These people know what they’re doing. The man is coming on Christmas because it’s a day he’s not likely to be followed. He knows all about avoiding the Gestapo, and he said he would make certain no one was watching him before he approached the house. I wanted to meet him somewhere else, but he said a visit on Christmas would seem quite natural.”

  Anna could see that Peter was frightened. “Papa, at Hitler Youth, we hear about these things,” he said. “The Gestapo gives no mercy. To help Jews is the worst thing anyone can do.”

  “If the Gestapo is so much against it, it must be the right thing to do. Isn’t that so, Peter?”

  “But to be caught is to die.”

  “I know, Peter. But we were chased by the Gestapo—and people put themselves in danger to help us. We need to do what we can for others.”

  “Yes. But why for Jews?”

  “Especially for Jews, Peter. You can’t be polluted by what you hear at Hitler Youth. Jews are our brothers and sisters, as much as anyone is.”

  It was right, and the whole family knew it, but the quiet in the room communicated the depth of everyone’s fear. Anna didn’t want to feel this way on Christmas, when things were starting to get better, and Peter was clearly upset.

  The man showed up later that afternoon. He didn’t ever say his name. He was a gentle man, soft-spoken, with graying hair. He hardly seemed a clever Nazi resister; there was too much sadness in his eyes.

  Brother Stoltz and the man sat in the living room for over an hour. They talked about the logistics of getting pictures and information to Brother Stoltz, and systems for getting the false papers back to those who needed them. The man seemed to know all the tricks about passing each other casually in public places, slipping materials back and forth.

  Anna sat in the kitchen and listened to the conversation, and her own nervousness continued to grow. One mistake and her father would be caught, and then what would happen to all of them?

  Before the man left, he asked to speak to the family. “Your father has told me a little about you,” he told them. “I know, for instance, that Niemeyer is not your real name.” He was standing near the door, apparently prepared to leave. He had buttoned his big black overcoat and tucked his muffler around his neck. “You must all be careful to bring no special attention to yourselves. Young man, you must never let any hint of anything slip out at Hitler Youth meetings. Just to say that you moved here from another place could be something that could be used by someone looking for you.”

  Anna could hardly bear to hear more of this. She was already frightened enough.

  “But I want you to know, your father is saving lives. The Jews are being forced into squalid ghettoes, full of disease. They are sometimes beaten to death for no reason. We even have reports that some are being shot and then buried in mass graves. If you help a few of these poor people, then you are saviors. Think of that today, on Christmas. I know it is all very frightening, but think what it means to put yourself in danger for someone else’s sake. It’s what a Christian should do.”

  He looked around at each of them, thanked them again, and then left. Silence filled the room, but this time Anna felt something new. She put her arms around her father’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

  ***

  At the conclusion of jump training, the paratroopers got their “wings.” The symbol was a little parachute hovering over silver eagle wings, to be pinned over their shirt pockets. They also received their airborne patches to sew on their garrison hats. Alex had proved to himself—and to some of the guys who didn’t like him—that he could stick it out, and he was proud of that.

  Alex’s only friend was Curtis Bentley, who shared most of his values—if little else. Curtis had been terrified by his first jump and had almost backed out, but Alex had pushed him out of the airplane. After that first experience Curtis had done pretty well on the remaining four jumps. So no one in their barracks had washed out during the final stages at Camp Toccoa, and all of the men would now be moving on together for further training. After they were pinned with their wings, they heard what they had been hoping to hear: “All right, you are on leave as of right now. You have ten days. Stay out of jail, and be back in Georgia, at Fort Benning, on the fifth of January, before seventeen hundred hours.”

  The men were already leaning forward, waiting to run.

  “Did you hear me?” the Colonel barked. “January five. Seventeen hundred hours. Anyone who is one second late will be drummed out of this outfit and shipped to a straight-leg regiment. No exceptions.”

  Finally, he said the magic words: “Fall out!”

  A lot of the men lived in the South, and they would be home before the day was over, but Alex had to get himself all the way across the country. It was December 26. Alex didn’t understand why things couldn’t have been planned so the men could get home for Christmas. As it turned out, however, he had a better chance of getting a train and making it home now than he would have had a few days earlier.

  Alex spent most of the day in a train station, and then he spent all night and most of the next day sitting up in a train, only to end up waiting in another train station all night in St. Louis. By the time he got to Salt Lake City, it was the morning of December 29, and he had to start thinking about beginning his trip back.

  But he called his parents from Union Station, and they drove down to get him, the girls with them. Alex was happier to see them this time than he had been when he had come home from his mission. He grabbed each of them and held on for a long time.

  “Where’s Gene,” he finally asked.

  “Who knows?” Mom said. “He was off somewhere with Ralph. But I told him you’d probably be in this morning, and he said he wouldn’t be gone long.

  And it was true. When the Thomases arrived home, Gene burst out of the house and ran toward them. He grabbed Alex and practically broke his ribs with his hug. Then he stepped back. “Wow. That’s some uniform. Maybe I want to go airborne.”

  Alex grabbed his duffel bag and tossed it at Gene. “Carry this, then,” he said. “You’ve grown some more, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

  “He scored about twice as many touchdowns as you did when you were a senior,” Dad said.

  “Hey, I know all about it. Everyone I know has written me about his ‘exploits on the gridiron.’ I’ve got enough clippings to get in trouble for hoarding newsprint.”

  Everyone moved into the house, and Mom said she would start dinner. She had taken the day off from the plant to await Alex’s call, and Dad wasn’t going in until later. So Dad sat in his big chair and Alex and Gene sat on the couch. LaRue and Beverly plunked themselves on the floor and stared up at Alex as though he were an angel visiting from heaven.

  “So you got your wings?” Gene said.

  Alex pulled on his shirt. “Right there,” he said. “And I’ll tell you, I earned them.”

  “What was it like to jump out of an airplane?” LaRue asked. Alex was amazed at LaRue. She was prettier than ever—and not just the “little-girl” pretty that Alex associated with her. At thirteen, she was looking very grown up. “Oh, it wasn’t bad. Remember when we went to the Grand Canyon?”

  “Sort of. I was kind of young.”

  “Well, picture yourself jumping into that canyon—on the trust that your parachute will open.”

  “Golly. That would scare me so bad.”

  “How was basic training?” Gene asked.

  Alex knew why he wanted to know, but he didn’t want to get into all that yet. “It’s terrible. That’s what it is. But what I want to know is what’s goin
g on around here.”

  “One good thing,” LaRue said. “I got my own radio for Christmas.”

  “A radio?” Alex said. “You have a radio in your room?”

  “It’s just a little one.”

  “Yeah. And she won’t let me touch it,” Beverly said.

  “I always wanted my own radio,” Alex said. “Do you have one too, Gene?”

  “I have Wally’s. But a tube has gone out, and I can’t find one to replace it. I get more static than anything else.”

  “I can’t believe this. Three radios in one house.”

  “Four. Dad has one in his office.”

  Alex was shaking his head. “I think things are looking up around this place. Are you getting rich, Dad?”

  “No, no. I saw the shortage of radios coming last summer, so I bought two extras, that’s all.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the old days.”

  “Well, we’ve done all right. But I think we did get a little carried away for Christmas. There are so many things we can’t get these days, so we went overboard on things we could buy.”

  It was not like Dad to admit even that much. Alex thought he saw a change. LaRue’s sweater looked expensive, and even though she may have worn it for his arrival, it seemed strange to see her so dressed up on a weekday.

  “I want you to know, Alex,” Dad added, “we still consider you a partner in the business. We aren’t taking a lot of money out, for the present, but I’ve been putting some into war bonds for you.”

  “A lot of war bonds,” LaRue said. “Sugar House was having a big bond drive and a parade and everything, so Dad walked up to this booth and gave the man a check—and the man’s eyes about popped out.”

  “Don’t exaggerate, LaRue,” Dad said, but he seemed pleased. He looked at Alex. “I was buying bonds for all the kids—not just for you. I want Wally to have something to get started with when he comes home—and something for college for the girls.”

  Alex looked down at Beverly, who hadn’t said a word. “Bev, are you going to go to college?”

  “I guess so,” she said. She was still such a little girl compared to LaRue, but she was eleven now.

  “Do you still play with your dolls?”

  “No!” she said, emphatically. He noticed that she was dressed like her big sister, in a straight skirt and sweater, not in the frilly girls’ dresses she had always worn when she wanted to dress up.

  “That’s only because I tease her if I catch her doing it,” LaRue said.

  “It is not. I don’t like dolls anymore.”

  Alex hated to think of that. Why did everything have to change? He looked around, trying to drink all this in so he could hold it close when he was gone again.

  “Did you hear that the BYU beat the Utes this year in football?” Gene asked.

  “Oh, no. How did that happen?”

  “A lot of guys are in the service,” Gene said. “It’s the first time ever that the U. lost to those guys.”

  Alex laughed. “It’s a tragedy. We can’t let that happen again.”

  And that set off a whole discussion about sports at East and the University of Utah, and especially about the upcoming basketball season. Alex couldn’t believe how good it seemed to talk about things that no one in Georgia knew anything about.

  After a time, Alex got up and wandered into the kitchen. He chatted with his mom and then helped her open some canned vegetables. “So how are you and dad doing at the plant? Does he mind working with you?”

  “No. Once in a while someone will walk right past him and ask me something, and I can see him get his nose a little out of joint, but he asks me as many questions as anyone. I’m the one who understands all about the government paperwork. But I have two secretaries now, and they take care of a lot of things. I couldn’t keep up without them. By the way, one of them is Lorraine Gardner. She started with us last summer, and she’s done a great job.”

  “Is she still single?”

  “Yes.”

  “Waiting for Wally?”

  “Not exactly, I don’t think. She goes out quite a lot—considering how few boys are still at home—but she doesn’t seem to get serious with anyone.”

  “You haven’t gone to three shifts at the plant, have you?”

  “No. But we’ve rented another building, next door, just as big as the first one. And a lot of days we put in overtime. Our biggest problem now is, we can’t find enough help. Most of our machinists are women. Your dad feels out of place—surrounded by all those girls.”

  “Hey, I never had it like that.”

  “You didn’t look at girls anyway. You’ve only had one in your head all along.” Mom was standing at the sink, scrubbing potatoes. She glanced over at him and smiled, showing her dimples. It struck Alex that she was a pretty woman, even if a little too round—something he had never stopped to think much about when he was younger.

  “I wish I could hear from Anna and know she’s okay,” Alex said. “There’s been a lot of bombing in Berlin. If something were to happen to her, I might never know it—even when the war is over.”

  “Oh, Alex, I don’t know how you and Anna can make it through all this.” Mom lifted her apron and wiped her hands on it, then stepped to Alex, raised herself to her toes, and kissed his cheek. “It’s sad to me,” she said. “So many things are sad right now. Most of the girls who work for us have husbands or boyfriends off in the war. One of them got word that her husband is missing in action on one of those little Pacific islands. By now, the poor girl’s pretty sure he’s dead, but she just wants a definite answer. It would be so much easier to deal with that.”

  “Like Wally, I guess.”

  “No. Wally’s alive. I know that.”

  Alex hoped she was right. He was not nearly so confident.

  After dinner, Alex walked upstairs and unpacked the things in his duffel bag. He also changed out of his uniform and put on some old cords and a sports shirt. He liked the feel of that. He was sitting on the bed that had once been his, putting his shoes on, when Gene came in. “Hey, if I had a uniform like yours, I’d never take it off,” he said. “The girls at East would be nuts over me.”

  “I hear they are anyway.”

  “Naw.” Gene sat down on his own bed, across from Alex.

  When Alex straightened up, he looked at Gene. “I’d give anything to keep you out of the service,” he said. “Are you sure you have to go? Don’t they have rules about how many have to go from a family?”

  Gene laughed. “Dad used to tell you that you didn’t have to go, and you fought him tooth and nail.”

  “I know. But there are three from our family in the service already. Why couldn’t you work down at the plant and get a deferment that way?”

  “The same reason you wouldn’t. I have to do my part. All us guys in high school know we’ll be going next year. Some have been dropping out of school and joining up before they graduate.”

  “It’s not like you think, Gene.” He leaned forward and spoke quietly. “You get treated like dirt. And not just by the drill sergeant. If a fellow doesn’t use foul language and get drunk, the other guys give him a hard time. I’ve watched some good kids, from good homes, lose track of who they are.”

  “I won’t do that.”

  “It won’t be easy, Gene. I’ve been on a mission and everything. But you’ll be right out of high school.”

  “I know. Ralph and I are talking about going together. Maybe we can end up in the same place.”

  “The army sends you wherever it wants to. There’s never anything guaranteed. I was supposed to be in intelligence, and nothing has ever come of that.”

  “Is the food as bad as everybody says?”

  “It’s not Mom’s cooking, if that’s what you mean. But Gene, that’s nothing.” Alex didn’t know how to say what he was thinking. “I really think you should stay out of it, if you can.”

  “I’d feel like a coward if I stayed home, Alex. All my friends are going.”

>   “But Gene, think about Mom and Dad.”

  “They’re used to all of you being gone now. It’ll be the same with me.”

  Alex sat for a time, considering his words. Then he raised his head and took a long look at Gene. “This war could be very long,” he said. “I don’t know whether Wally will make it. And I’m in a regiment that will drop in behind enemy lines. We’ll end up surrounded by the enemy, no matter where we fight. The chances aren’t that good for me, Gene. I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad that, but it’s just how things are.”

  The point, of course, was sinking in with Gene, and Alex saw that the color was leaving his face. “You guys have to come home,” he said.

  “I hope we will. But maybe you should stay home, and then the family would be certain of having one son get through this.”

  Gene looked at the floor. “I don’t necessarily want to go,” he finally said. “But I have to.”

  Alex thought of arguing the point, but he remembered all too well the conversation he had had with his father, not a year before. Alex stood and put his hands on Gene’s shoulders, and Gene looked up, “There would be no shame in it, Gene. Think about it.”

  The two brothers stared into each other’s eyes. “I wish the war could just end,” Gene said, “and we could all be back together again.”

  “It’s going to take years, Gene. Years. Hitler has himself in a mess in Stalingrad, and that’s going to help the Allies. I feel pretty sure we’ll win—in the long run—but the price is going to be high.”

  “It’s a rotten time, Alex. When you were my age, you had nothing but good things to look forward to.”

  “I thought I did, anyway. But look what happened.”

  “I know. But I really believe everything will work out.” Gene seemed to know what Alex was thinking. “You and Anna are going to end up together.”

  Alex didn’t ask why he thought so, but he was moved by the tender goodwill he felt from his brother. “I understand you have a girl too,” he said.

 

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