Turned Away

by Carol Matas

  I went to ballet as usual and then Elizabeth and I went to see How Green Was My Valley. Oh we just loved it! Now that was a movie! Maureen O’Hara was a dream. We played ring-a-levio with the whole street on Saturday night after supper, except the cage was a Nazi prison and the escape was Canada. And then on Sunday we continued the game all afternoon.

  March 1942

  March 2

  Just as I was leaving for school the doorbell rang. It was a young man and he had a wire in his hand. “Bernstein?” he said. I nodded. He handed it to me. Heart thudding in my chest, I walked into the kitchen. Mommy took one look at my face and let out a little cry. She snatched the telegram from me and tore it open. She stared at the words for what seemed forever. Finally she spoke.

  “Adam is missing,” she said.

  “Missing?” I repeated.

  “He was part of a raid on enemy territory, and his plane was hit.”

  I just stood there. She stood there. Then I went to the phone and called Daddy’s office. I told him the news. He said he’d cancel his morning and be right home and that I was to sit with Mommy until he got there. I put the kettle on and made Mommy sit down. I made some strong tea with sugar in it and then I called Auntie Adele. She said she was coming right over. I made Mommy sip the tea. She sat there, all quiet. When Daddy rushed in she broke down and cried. He kept telling her that Adam would be fine. “‘Missing’ means missing, nothing more,” he said. “And if anyone can land a plane it’s Adam and if anyone can trick the Nazis it’s Adam.” That made me feel better. I stayed home in the morning and after Auntie Adele had given me lunch I went back to school. That’s when Elizabeth told me that Paul wasn’t there because his family had just heard that Paul’s brother had been killed in Hong Kong.

  When I got home from school the paper had Adam’s picture on the front page and a whole article about the attack. I felt so proud of him and yet so useless! If only I could go over there and rescue him.

  March 5

  I spent the week trying to raise money for the Victory Loan — the deadline for the campaign is tomorrow. I went through all my old clothes and toys and took them to school and so did all my classmates and we sold them to the rest of the school today and raised fifty dollars! At least it kept me busy all week. Mommy did the same. She got very busy with her Hadassah group. They had a big fundraising week with a fashion show yesterday and a jumble sale today.

  March 6

  The total for Victory Loans — over $60,000,000. Paul came back to school today. I didn’t know what to say to him. Mrs. Davis told him that the whole class was sorry for his loss and because of his brother we would be free and never have to truly experience what happened on If Day. When Adam’s picture was in the paper she said something like that to me — I’m not sure because as soon as she started to talk I started to cry and I got so embarrassed I didn’t really hear it. Elizabeth keeps telling me to buck up and that he’ll be fine. She’s driving me slightly mad.

  Later

  The paper had terrible news — two prisoners of war from the Grenadiers dead. Daddy says it’s horrible, but it gives us reason to be much more sure that Morris and Isaac are alive — if they weren’t we would have heard. And I think he meant it, he wasn’t just saying it to make me feel better.

  Another story at the bottom of page one. A fighter bomber crashed into the North Sea and the crew was rescued because Winkle, a carrier pigeon, managed to fly back to base. Her code number showed the plane she’d been in and the crew had managed a weak SOS, and between those two things they figured out where the plane crashed and picked the crew up from their dinghy! So maybe Adam will be rescued somehow.

  March 14

  I met Marcie at the Capitol today after ballet and we saw Captains of the Clouds. Cagney as a fighter — it was inspiring. And what was especially amazing was that it was all set in Canada and was about the RCAF and even had Billy Bishop, a war hero, playing himself. After the movie we went back to Marcie’s house and I had dinner there, before Daddy picked me up.

  Imagine Sarah not being able to do anything like that anymore. She can’t even go to a movie or out for a hot chocolate or anything. I’d go crazy.

  March 15

  Middle of the night and I still can’t sleep.

  Adam is back in England!

  The telegram arrived after supper. This time Daddy answered the door and read the wire before Mommy even knew it had come — she was in the basement looking for things she could give away for a Hadassah auction. I knew it was good news when Daddy grabbed my arms and whirled me around the room. Then he told me to go get Mommy. I did. And he read the telegram. “Have arrived safely in England. Stop. Letter to follow. Stop.”

  Daddy grinned. Mommy sat down hard. I jumped up and down and yelled and yahooed. Daddy poured himself and Mommy a brandy. They don’t drink very much, but they were both pale as ghosts.

  I’m so happy. But then I started to worry all over again. What happens on his next flight?

  March 16

  Another wire from Adam. He’s been recommended for a medal! It’s called a DFC, which Daddy says is the Distinguished Flying Cross.

  March 17

  I was a big celebrity at school today after Elizabeth made sure everyone heard about Adam’s medal. I am so proud of Adam. Mrs. Davis made a very nice speech congratulating me and our family. But I couldn’t help but sneak a few looks at Paul, whose own brother died. He seems so sad and doesn’t talk much at all anymore. And I realize that I could be in his shoes at any moment, with either Morris or Adam.

  The rinks are melting and any day now I’m going to be able to take my boots off and wear shoes when I walk to school. Can’t wait.

  March 18

  A new letter from Sarah today. Again tucked into one from Uncle Nathaniel.

  Ma chère Devorah,

  We are so miserable here and all I can say to you, is please, please, please, try to get us out. I know you are my age and can probably do nothing, but I sometimes despair if all is left up to the adults. Papa refuses to admit anything could happen to us, so I must be the one to tell you the bad news — Cousin Marie and her family have been deported to a camp in the south. They have written us a letter and the conditions are deplorable. This, however, is the good news. My Uncle Leslie and his wife and two children have been taken and we fear it is to the camps in Germany or Poland and once there, no one hears from anyone again. I think they are being killed! Yes, I’ll say what Papa refuses to say or believe! And Rachel agrees. I wish I could help her with her work but I am too young, apparently. But not too young to die. Why Papa was released after they rounded up most of the top Jewish leaders, I don’t know. Doctors, professors, scientists, lawyers, writers — so many of these people were our friends. Perhaps Papa has paid for his safety. But how long will that last?

  I know this is a morbid letter, but who else can I speak to? Please write back and tell me every detail of your life, because it makes me happy that there are still Jews in the world who are happy and living a good life. Especially since they are part of my family.

  The package your dear Mama sent has been most welcome — as usual we have used the chocolate to barter for food. And the clothes are lovely. I wish I had somewhere to wear them.

  Sending you a big hug,

  Sarah

  I have to do something! But what? I’ve written the prime minister and had no reply. Well, maybe we need to make a fuss so someone notices. I have an idea. What if all my classmates went down to the legislature and all together asked to see the premier. Then he could talk to Ottawa for us, correct?

  Later

  I told Mommy my idea and she was dead against it. She’s been in touch with all the bigwigs at the Jewish organizations and they don’t want anyone making a fuss. They say they are working behind the scenes and have been told that if there is a public outcry, nothing will happen. “But Jews are being killed!” I said to Mommy.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Mommy said. But we do, diary
, we do! Sarah is right. The adults are afraid to do anything. Now I don’t know what to do! I’m going to write Adam and ask him. He knows best.

  One more thing. The paper today: JAP INVASION FLEET WRECKED.

  Twenty-three ships were sunk by the Americans and the Australians! Take that! When I think about Morris being a prisoner of the Japanese, maybe sick — who knows? — it just upsets me so much.

  March 22

  Elizabeth and I went to see Ball of Fire today starring Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck. We were laughing so hard and we really had a goofy time on the streetcar on the way home, talking in slang at the top of our voices and raising eyebrows, which made us pretty slap-happy. It’s all about this stuffy professor who is writing an article for an encyclopedia about slang so he gets mixed up with this dance hall smooch — Barbara S. — who teaches him slang and of course they fall in love but she’s mixed up with a gangster. The doll, or dish, is all about the dough, moolah, bucks, and she thinks the mug is a jerk and he gives her the screamin’ meemies. When we got home I greeted Mommy with, “‘Hidy Ho, what’s the fever, what’s buzzin’, cousin?” She gave me a strange look and then said she’d made a roast for dinner and I said, “Knock yourself out, it’s okey-dokey with me. But I have to shove in the clutch and do some homework before we chow down.” She realized that I’d been to the movies so she said that I was a goofy kid and I said she didn’t know from nothing and was about to say something else when the phone rang — which was just as well because I was running out of cute talk.

  March 24

  At dinner tonight Daddy told us that we have to use the car only when really necessary — like for a big shopping or to go to the north end. Tires are not going to be replaced once they wear out. Fortunately the car is only two years old and Daddy thinks the tires will last at least a few more years. They are rationing gas but it’s not a problem for most people who just drive around town. And Daddy also says there is going to be some kind of conscription. The age will be from 21 to 30, up from 25.

  March 27

  No school today! The storms that started a couple of days ago are so bad that school was cancelled. Yesterday only half the class was there. I trudged through the drifts to Elizabeth’s and we spent the day together. By around 4 p.m. Sandy, Mary, Hester, Paul and Allan were over as well. I tried to talk about what we could do to help in the war, but as usual, Elizabeth only wanted to play and have fun and she chided me for trying to make everyone miserable. I hardly want to be friends with her anymore but if I break up with her she’ll turn the others against me, I know she will. I’m going to call Marcie tomorrow and see what she thinks.

  March 28

  I couldn’t call Marcie, all the phones were dead today! The snowplows are even stuck and everything has come to a halt in the city. Elizabeth came over with the rest of the crowd, except for Hester, who has just come down with chicken pox. We played all day, mostly hide-and-seek in the house, and then Monopoly. Mommy made us sandwiches and it was a fun day. No more of those if I break off with my school friends. Hope I don’t catch chicken pox from Hester, by the way.

  Later

  Just before bed Daddy came into my room with a big smile and a big package for me. He’d been saving it for the weekend, he said, because he knew I wouldn’t get any sleep once I saw it. And then when I opened it! The brand new Agatha Christie, not from the library, bought just for me! The Moving Finger. It’s a Miss Marple, but she doesn’t even come in till near the end. I can tell you that because I only have three more chapters. And, I’m glad to say, no antisemitic remarks from Agatha Christie, so I’ve decided to forgive her. What a good story. I’m glad that now I don’t have to hide her books anymore. Mommy and Daddy must think I’m growing up — finally!

  Even Later

  It’s around one in the morning and I just finished the book! It was all about misdirection and even though she tells you that, she still managed to misdirect me. I wasn’t even close. I thought it was everyone except who it turned out to be — the murderer, of course. How does she do it?

  I’ve had so much fun this weekend. Maybe Elizabeth is right and I’m just being silly. I can’t do anything, I can’t help. What’s the point of worrying?

  March 30

  Dear diary, a letter from Adam! Here it is. Mommy wanted to keep it, but I convinced her it would be safer in my diary.

  Dearest Family,

  I’m going to tell you a little bit about my adventures. I must leave names and places out for obvious reasons. The censors might not let it through and one wouldn’t want any important information to land in the wrong hands.

  My plane got into trouble over the French coast. I bailed out into a forested area, but luckily missed the big trees and only hurt my leg — just a badly twisted ankle. I buried the parachute and using my pocket knife cut the tops off my boots so they didn’t look military. And then a truck drove up! I realized I couldn’t outrun it so I was prepared for the worst when the fellow called to me from the dirt road and waved me over. I didn’t know at that point if I was going to my doom but I had little choice — I couldn’t outrun him. So I hobbled over and he waved for me to get into the back and pulled the tarps over me. Only about a minute later I heard a German voice. My Yiddish is good enough that I could make out what he was saying, asking if the chap in the truck had seen a parachutist. He replied that he had and that “he’s gone that way.” And then the truck roared off.

  We travelled for about a half an hour and then stopped at a farmhouse. There was already another chap there, an American. I was quizzed by a short stout fellow who needed to verify that I was the real deal and not a German plant. He asked me lots of questions. Here’s the funny part. The American also asked questions, because my French is not that good, as you all know. And he asked me baseball questions to see if I was really a Canadian! I didn’t know any of the answers and told him, “Ask me anything about hockey and I’ll give you the answer.” Finally they seemed to accept me and it was obvious we — me and the American — had been lucky. The French Resistance was going to help us!

  We were put into a root cellar and none too soon because Germans came shortly after and searched the house. The family had put a big piece of furniture and a rug over the opening and we weren’t discovered. A couple days later another airman joined us, a French Canadian from Montreal. Paul. That was very useful as he was able to do all the interpreting for us and would be able to speak fluently if we were questioned down the road. Speaking of which, it was only a day later when we were dressed as locals and put on a train to Paris. We met three more airmen on the train and we all travelled together. The compartments are all separate, not like on our trains, so once underway we could relax and not worry about being checked. But just before we reached Paris, the Resistance fighter we were with checked the fake passes we’d been given and they were of such bad quality he ripped them up and told us we’d be better without any papers. So we needed to get through security in Paris without any papers. We pulled into the station at the same time as an entire troop train of German soldiers.

  But no one stopped us. And that’s when I was met by my new guide, and I think you might guess who that was — Leah’s sister. Imagine my shock!! Paul and I spent a few hours at the apartment and then were taken from apartment to apartment for the next few days and then finally given a new identity card and taken to the train station. The braveness of our Resistance companions will not soon be forgotten. We had no sooner walked into the station than a gendarme stopped me and Paul. We showed our cards and Paul spoke for both of us and we were waved on. My heart was in my throat. Once in the train I recognized those from my earlier group. And our angel, the one I mentioned earlier, was there too. Our seats were reserved but there were others sitting in them. And Angel, as I shall call her, just marched over and shouted at them to give us our seats, as if we weren’t all fugitives! And they did! We stopped at dawn and had to say goodbye to our angel and someone else took over. We travelled farther, went to another h
ouse, and at night went by truck, around 30 of us by then, to a forest, a beach, and then without telling too much more detail we were picked up by a British boat and taken home. In the forest we actually came across a German outpost, but they were so drunk we were able to walk right past them without being stopped. We had little choice, there was no way around because there was a stream on one side and a cliff on the other! That was a hair-raising moment as well.

  And that, dear family, is my adventure. I am sure you are doing all you can to help all angels and their families. It is terrible in France. The Germans are such bullies and even riding a streetcar might get you killed if you are an average citizen. If you are Jewish, well, it is well known now that Jews are being killed outright. There is a new term, Judenfrei. I’ve been told that in Poland they are making entire towns and cities free of Jews. And that means they are taking Jews away and killing them.

  Should anything happen to me I want you to know that I have no regrets. We must fight these devils and fight them with all we’ve got. We need to sacrifice and I am happy to do so. What we fliers do almost seems easy when I see what the Resistance does every day in France. So Moms, I know you worry. And Dev, you never used to but from the sound of your letter, you are lately. My advice is not to worry, but to get busy doing what you can to help. I know, Moms, that you are already doing a lot. And Dad, you are too. And Dev, your tea and fundraising will help too.