by Dean Hughes
Alex felt the power and faith of this good man. Elder Benson had a big voice, but he spoke softly and humbly, at the end, when he bore testimony. He told the servicemen that he wasn’t surprised by what had happened here in Frankfurt. Miracles had been happening since before he had begun his trip. At every step he had dealt with impossible obstacles, and each one had been overcome. He had found passage on airplanes that were booked solid, on ships and trains that no one could get on. He had been able to buy a truck and cars in Paris, where none were supposed to be for sale, and amazingly he had been able to obtain gasoline, which was not normally available to civilians. As he closed, he challenged the men to use their leadership abilities and resources to help the local Saints. He told them the Lord would open the way for their own miracles to happen.
When the meeting ended, Elder Benson began to shake hands with the servicemen. As Alex did so, he said, “Elder Benson, I’m—”
“I know who you are. You’re Al Thomas’s son. I’ve had dinner with you and your family more than once.”
“That’s right. I didn’t know whether you would remember me.”
“I talked to your father not long before I left Salt Lake. He told me you were still over here. How long is the army going to keep you?”
“I don’t know. My commanding officer likes the fact that I speak German. I might be here a couple of months yet—maybe even longer.”
“Your dad told me that you have a wife and little son in England.”
Alex was impressed with Elder Benson’s memory. “Yes, I do. They’re planning to go to Salt Lake before long now. They’ll get there before me, the way things look right now.”
“Can you wait just a minute? I want to talk to you, but I want to shake hands with these other men first. Is that all right?”
“Sure.”
Elder Benson worked his way through the line of men who were waiting to greet him. He was a big man, imposing, but he laughed and slapped men on the shoulder, and he made no distinction between officers and enlisted men. When he had finished, he spoke for a moment to Max Zimmer, the new German mission president who was traveling with Elder Benson and translating for him, and with Frederick Babbel, a young German-American who was accompanying Elder Benson as his secretary. With them was Howard Badger, an LDS army chaplain, whose officer status helped with some of the group’s military contacts.
When Elder Benson stepped back to Alex, he said, “I understand you’re working with the German branch here. Is that right?”
“Yes. They’ve called me into the branch presidency.”
“That’s good. These servicemen are doing fine. It’s the local Saints who need the help, and you have the background to provide some strength.”
“I’m doing what I can. I’ve been able to get a little food and some blankets from the army—whether I’m supposed to or not. As soon as your supplies get here we can help people a lot more.”
Elder Benson nodded. His eyes narrowed behind his wire-rim glasses, making him look more serious. “Your
father told me that you’ve gone through some hard times personally.”
“Well . . . yes. Every soldier does, I’m sure.”
“It’s not easy to take up a rifle and shoot at a man, is it?”
“No.”
“It shouldn’t be. Never will be.”
Alex nodded.
“But we were fighting for the right things, and most of our German brothers and sisters know that now. You believe that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“What’s been bothering you the most?” The tone of his voice said, “I don’t have a lot of time, and I want to help, but we’ve got to get to the heart of the matter.”
Alex hardly knew where to begin, what to say. He didn’t want to give Elder Benson the impression that he was indulging himself in self-pity. “I’ve had trouble sleeping at night. And during the day, memories—flashes of things I’ve seen—keep coming back to me.”
“Your dad said you were right in the middle of the action for a long time.”
“That’s true. And at the end, I got sent behind the lines. There were some things that happened there that haven’t been easy for me to put out of my head.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
Elder Benson was standing tall in front of Alex, his legs set firm and rather wide apart, his hands on the lapels of his dark gray suit coat. He was a bold man, with strong features and intense eyes. There was something of Alex’s dad in his manner. “I’m just trying to do the best I can. Actually, I’m already feeling a lot better.”
“I’m going to give you some advice, Brother Thomas. Is that all right?”
“I would appreciate it.”
“First of all, be thankful that your spirit is refined enough that it was repulsed by what you saw. You’re a noble young man, and there is nothing noble or good about war. It’s one of the curses of this earth, and the Lord is deeply disappointed in his children that they resort to such behavior.”
“But people make it sound like a wonderful thing, like—”
“I know. Some of that is just because we want to honor those who made great sacrifices, the way you did. And then, back home, people don’t have to see what it’s really like. But all that doesn’t matter. Here’s what does matter.” He put his big hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You’re an elder. You’re a returned missionary. It will be young men like you who will lead this world away from the hellishness of war and back to the Lord. You may feel like sitting down, looking back with regret—and maybe there’s nothing exactly wrong with that—but the problem is, there’s no time. We need you too much. And we need you right now.”
Alex nodded. It’s what he knew, what he had tried to tell himself.
“The German Saints need you. And when you come home, the wards and stakes of Zion will need you too. We’re fighting a battle with worldliness back in Utah. You can’t mope around. You’ve done what you had to do—just as millions of others have done—and now it’s time to help rebuild the spirit of the people. Can you do that?”
Alex hadn’t expected such a challenge. “I’ll do my best,” he said quietly.
“That’s good. But what I’m asking you to do is to let all this go and get on with the work you need to do.”
Alex nodded.
“You’re a husband now, and you’re a father. Your wife and son need your strength.”
“I know. I tell myself that every day. But these dreams come whether I—”
“I understand. You can’t stop that. But don’t think so much about them in the daytime and they’ll gradually go away.” Suddenly he was smiling. “I know how I sound—like I don’t have an ounce of sympathy in me. But I was raised as a farm boy, and I was taught that when the sun came up, the cows had to be milked. It didn’t matter whether I felt like milking or not; I had to get myself up and going. That’s what I’m asking you to do.”
Alex was surprised at how simple that seemed, how right—and yet, how hard to do.
“You know what the answer is. It’s always been the same. Forget yourself. The more you look inside, the worse things seem. Concentrate on your suffering brothers and sisters, do all you can to help them, and you won’t have time to think about yourself. You do that and God will heal you. It might not happen overnight, but it will happen. That’s a promise I can make you as a servant of the Lord.”
“Thank you, Elder Benson. That does help.”
“What are you planning to do with your life, Brother Thomas? Do you know what kind of work you want to do?”
“Not exactly. I can go to work for my dad if I want to, but I’d like to get some more education. I used to think I’d like to be a teacher, maybe at a college, but it’s hard to know for sure what’s best now.”
“Well . . . I wouldn’t plan too far into the future.”
Alex thought he had heard wrong for a moment. “You wouldn’t?”
“No, and I’ll tell you why. There’s no wa
y you can know all the things the Lord might have in store for you. Go home and finish your education. Prepare yourself the best way you know how. And then, when you take a job, work hard at it. Be the best you can be; give your employer all you have. If you do something well, someone will come along and give you another opportunity. That’s what always happens. And when that opportunity comes, pray about it. Ask the Lord if that’s what you’re supposed to do. If it is, go after it. Work at it like that’s your life’s ambition; don’t just put in your time. If you do that, another opportunity will come along—and more and more will follow. That’s how my life has always gone. When I was your age, I never could have imagined the things that have happened to me.”
Alex nodded. But he had never really thought that way. He had been trying to see much further into the future than Elder Benson was suggesting.
“Well, I’ve got to be going. But I’ll see you back in Salt Lake someday, and I want to see a big man. I expect great things from you.”
He shook Alex’s hand again, and he walked back to his traveling companions. Alex was left almost out of breath. He just hoped he could hold onto the resolve he felt at the moment. He knew the bad dreams couldn’t be willed away, but maybe he could pay less attention to them and fight off the malaise that often filled his head during the day. He wanted to be strong, to be the kind of man Elder Benson expected of him, and above all, he wanted to be the husband and father Anna and Gene needed.
On Sunday Elder Benson spoke to the German Saints. They gathered in the basement of a school that had been damaged during the war. The glass in the windows was mostly blown out and had been filled in with cardboard. There was also no electricity, so the room was cold and dark, the only light coming from windows left open. But leaders from throughout the district had found ways to travel to this makeshift gathering place, and the joy of being together—in the presence of an apostle—seemed to make up for having to wrap themselves in blankets and shiver through the services.
Elder Benson spoke as Brother Zimmer translated, and he greeted the members with his usual force. “During the long time of the war we have often thought of you,” he said. “We knew of your difficulties, sufferings, and deprivations, and often, when we were engaged in prayer in the temple of
the Lord in Salt Lake City, our prayers for you rose to the Almighty. We knew that you would be capable of withstanding all difficulties. Our greatest worry was only whether you would remain true to the Church, come what may. You are an example for the Church, and how I wish that it were within my power to free you from all worries, difficulties, and cares. I would give everything material to accomplish that, and the same goes for the other leaders of the Church.”
He also addressed the difficult topic that worried every German: “The Church will always be opposed to war. When people forget God’s word, the seeds of war are sown. And now war has been poured out on every nation. But we have also been taught to be loyal to those who have power over us. You have been loyal to your nation even while abhorring the principles of a government that was out of harmony with the gospel. You have suffered beyond belief, but you have remained true to the Church, and now the kingdom can be rebuilt in this part of the world.”
He promised that help was coming, and Alex could feel the relief in the members around him as Elder Benson described
the actions of the Church. At every step along the way, he had been told that he couldn’t come to Europe, that he couldn’t get across the borders, that food and supplies couldn’t be distributed. But every barrier had been broken down, one by one, and now he was sure that the supplies would be arriving soon. He described the methods that would be used to get those supplies to the people, both Latter-day Saints and others.
In the end he told them, “I bring you the most affectionate greetings and blessings of the Saints in Zion. They feel that they are one with you. There is no feeling of bitterness to be found against the German Latter-day Saints. They love you as much as those who live in the shadow of the temple.” And then he said, “Be united. Be prayerful. Love one another. Husbands, love your wives. Children, love your parents. Remember God in all your activities and seek his counsel and guidance in all your undertakings.”
Alex thought he saw the congregation, member by
member, get stronger, actually sit taller in their seats. They were a rundown looking group, judged by their clothes, but Alex also saw some of the happiest faces he had seen in Germany since before the war.
Chapter 15
The Stoltzes were on a train, crossing America. Peter was sitting next to Anna, holding Gene on his lap. To everyone’s relief, Gene had fallen asleep. He was nine months old now, and quite a handful. At first, as the train had pulled away from New York City, the ride had been a delight for everyone. But half an hour into the trip, Gene had become restless and eager to crawl about. Brother and Sister Stoltz, who were sitting in the seat just in front of Anna and Peter, had taken their turns playing with him, and he had eaten his way through half a box of soda crackers, but it was a long time before he had wound down enough to take a nap.
“I think we’re still in Pennsylvania,” Anna whispered to Peter. “I knew America was a big country, but I don’t think I realized how big.” The trip would take almost three days, and President Thomas had been good enough to buy Pullman berths for the family so they could sleep in beds at night, but watching the map and seeing how slowly the landmarks moved by was giving Anna a sense of the vastness of the land.
“This part looks a lot like Germany,” Peter said in German. He had been working hard on his English and now had a decent reading knowledge, but he wouldn’t speak the language with his family. He also preferred to let his family do the talking when it came to dealing with waiters and porters and fellow passengers. That worried Anna. She felt that Peter was holding back, not really committing to a life in America, and the last thing she wanted was for her family to be split apart again. Now that Peter was with them, she wanted him to stay. She wanted him to like this new land, like Salt Lake City, marry a Mormon girl, and stay close by. What worried her was that he had mentioned the daughter in the Schaller home, where he had stayed in northern Germany. He seemed reticent to say much about her, but Anna sensed that his interest was more than passing. Anna hoped he hadn’t tied his heart to Germany—and to the girl—so much that he would never be happy in the United States.
A waiter in a white coat walked through the car. He smiled at Peter and whispered, “Bet you’re glad to have that boy calm down for a minute.” Earlier, at dinner, he had waited on their table, and he had laughed at Gene, who couldn’t sit still long enough to eat.
“I wish he could sleep all the way,” Anna said, and she laughed.
“How far you going, ma’am?”
“To Utah.”
“Oh my. That’s a long trip. You let me know if I can help you any.”
“Thank you.”
The waiter walked on through the car. Peter glanced over at Anna. “Why do the Negroes in America serve all the food?”
“I don’t think they always do,” Anna said.
“It was that way in the army, too. When Alex took me out to the American army base, all the men who served us dinner in the officers’ dining room were Negroes. And that’s who was cleaning up around the barracks we passed by.”
“Alex told me that Negroes aren’t treated very well by some of the soldiers, but I don’t know why. I think that’s something you have to grow up with to understand.”
“Maybe it’s something I don’t want to understand. Every time we go through a city, I see all the Negroes living together—all in rundown houses. It reminds me of the way I saw Jews living in Warsaw. I don’t think it’s right.”
Anna had thought the same thing, but she feared that Peter was looking for things not to like, and so she merely said, “Things are getting better. Alex says that the war made people change their minds a little.” She waited, and when Peter didn’t reply, she added, “What I like
is how friendly people are in this country. Everyone’s been nice to us. Germans aren’t usually so friendly to people they don’t know.”
Peter nodded, apparently accepting Anna’s assessment, but he didn’t offer his own impressions.
The day was long, and Gene was cranky long before bedtime, but he slept with Anna, in her berth, and slept quite well. On the following morning, after breakfast, Anna was playing with Gene when he dropped a little toy truck. The man across the aisle picked it up and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. The man was heavy and dark haired. Anna had heard his accent when he had chatted with the man sitting next to him. He sounded like the people she had heard in New York City. “So, are you people Germans?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What brings you to our country?”
He sounded friendly enough, and yet there was something a little brash in his tone. Germans didn’t usually ask personal questions so abruptly, so directly. “We’re immigrating,” she said. “We’re moving to Salt Lake City.”
