by Kris Tualla
So what.
He knew exactly so what.
“You couldn’t be the war hero then, so you are choosing this battle now,” she accused. “You want to be the big hero at home, don’t you.”
Was she right?
Doesn’t matter.
“Elsa, listen to me.” Teigen fought to keep his voice from shaking with either fury or fear. “I simply cannot teach impressionable students that Nazi ideas are valid or correct. Don’t you understand that?”
She threw her arms wide. “Of course I do. But you can say what they want you to say without sounding convincing.”
Teigen stared at her. “Do you still want to marry me?”
“What?” Elsa pulled her arms in and wrapped them around her body. “Why would you ask me that?”
Teigen felt his chest tighten in an entirely different way this time. “Answer me, Elsa. Do you still want to marry me?”
“I love you, Teigen.”
“And I love you. Answer the question.”
Elsa began to swipe her cheeks. He heard the crying spasms of her breaths.
“Elsa?”
She sniffed and ran her hand under her nose. “I can’t break my father’s heart. I just can’t.”
“The Bible says that a woman leaves her family and cleaves to her husband.” Teigen drew a deep breath. “Will you be my wife, or not?”
She lifted her chin. “Will you at least pretend to teach what they want you to teach? For both our sakes?”
That question knocked the wind from Teigen. The sudden chasm between himself and his beloved Elsa gaped even wider between them and he couldn’t breathe in the face of it.
“No,” he croaked.
Elsa looked as if his words had punched her, and not the other way around. “Good bye, then,” she rasped.
She walked past him, up the steps, and opened the door to the house. Light from behind him inked his frozen, jagged shadow on the snowy path to the gate.
His shape on the path disappeared into darkness as the door creaked closed and the latch fell with a chastising clank.
Chapter
Two
February 10, 1942
Teigen trudged toward the school through the frigid pre-dawn streets of Oslo, passing other men and women making their resolute ways past the ever-present German soldiers toward whatever tasks required their presence this morning. A brief nod of greeting was the most anyone offered; the faint acknowledgement of still-loyal countrymen doggedly surviving their shared Nazi hell.
After the confrontation at the Borgs’ home, and the shocking ultimatum from Elsa, Teigen passed a restless and disbelieving night. When he did doze off, his dreams continued to repeat the scenes.
His head ached and his eyes were scratchy. Right about now he would pay a week’s wages for a strong, hot cup of black coffee.
How did everything turn so quickly?
The question haunted him, as did the answers.
Teigen knew the Borgs’ position well: keep your head down, stay out of the Nazi’s notice, and appear to be amenable to their presence on the surface. What was truly felt would be tucked silently and secretly away until the Germans were—please, God—defeated and gone.
In deference to both his future in-laws, and for the sake of his own parents’ shipping business in Arendal, Teigen had reluctantly adopted the same response. Until yesterday.
“I can’t teach Nazi lies,” he hissed quietly into his scarf, dampening the wool with his warm breath. His feelings were too strong to only exist in his head; they had to be spoken into the world. “I would die first.”
With a start, Teigen realized that was a true statement.
I would die first.
The sentence rolled around in his thoughts searching for a viable objection, but not finding one that would stand up and knock it down.
He stopped walking, halted by the revelation.
“I would die first,” he whispered.
Teigen drew a deep breath of resignation before he resumed his pace.
Tor had always been the impetuous and older brother, sometimes acting before he thought about the consequences. That was why, the morning that the Germans invaded and occupied Norway, Tor was at the Norwegian army headquarters within hours to enlist.
Teigen was always the more level-headed of the pair. He went to work that same horrible day as if nothing had happened, pretending to teach chemistry to the upper-secondary students while they stared at each other in shock and muttered unanswerable questions about what might happen now.
In truth, the occupation had been largely uneventful in regards to the war. In spite of Adolf Hitler’s infusion of soldiers and the money required to keep them in place, Norway had not yet proven to be the pivotal piece in his world-domination plan which he assumed it would be. Instead, the occupation was largely a fruitless drain on Nazi resources.
Teigen formed a rueful smile behind his scarf. He was happy for his country to play that role.
Until that fascist asshole son-of-a-bitch and self-proclaimed “Minister President” Vidkun Quisling stepped into partnership with the Germans ten days ago and started stirring the pot.
Filthy traitor.
Teigen pulled down the edge of his scarf and spat on the ice.
He reached the school and entered through the tall heavy front doors. The familiar and calming aromas of chalk, floor wax, steam heat, and wet wool filled his sinuses. Up until this point the schools had remained untouched by the evil reach of Nazi control. And if Teigen’s colleagues stood strong, that bastion would be held.
When he walked into the area of the office where the teachers’ mailbox cubbyholes were stacked six high and ten wide Teigen faced more than a dozen teachers standing still and reading matching documents.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he ducked down and reached into his box. When Teigen retrieved the envelope he expected to find, he straightened and glanced around the room.
Jorgen Lasse, the head of the sciences department met his gaze. “See for yourself.”
Teigen opened the envelope. Instead of the principal’s notice concerning his refusal to sign the Declaration of Loyalty, there was a short statement addressed to the newly formed Norwegian Teachers Union which outlined his refusal to accept membership, stating that to do so would compromise his conscience.
The attached explanation urged him to copy the statement, include his name and address, and mail it to their headquarters.
Confused, Teigen flipped over the blank envelope. “Where did this come from?”
“The resistance,” someone whispered.
“What do we do?” someone else asked quietly.
Teigen frowned. “Is this a coordinated protest? Did every teacher in the school get one?”
Jorgen shrugged. “It would seem that only those who did not sign the oath received a copy.”
Teigen’s shoulders drooped. “So some of us did sign it, then.”
Overlærer Oskar Jung strode into the office. “Only three. I’ve sent them home for the day.” The principal faced the now silent crowd. “These papers arrived by courier at my home last night. My wife and I stuffed the envelopes before we went to bed and I dispersed them early this morning.”
He paused and his regard swept the small and crowded space. “I was told that every school in Norway will have them before the end of the week.”
Teigen leaned forward catching Oskar’s attention. “Does this mean we have your permission to do as we’re now asked?”
Oskar flashed a sly smile. “You have my encouragement to do so. And while I can’t require you all to respond in this way, I will tell you all that my letter is already posted.”
“But what will happen to us if we do this?” The music teacher cleared his throat. “I have a family to support.”
“Mailing a protest letter is a much more aggressive step than simply not signing the declaration, that’s true,” Jorgen Lasse admitted. “But if all our teachers do it, what can the bastards d
o? Shut down all of our schools?”
The music teacher shook his head. “How will we know if they do? We might be the only ones who protest and then we’ll be targets.”
Bolstered by his new resolve, Teigen held the papers over his head. “I cannot allow my students to be fed Nazi filth, any more than I can tolerate our occupation in silence one minute longer.” His gaze moved from colleague to colleague, meeting any eyes that were directed his way. “I will mail my letter today as well.”
*****
Teigen walked into his classroom and set the envelope on his desk with a shaking hand. His choice was clear—even clearer than the refusal to sign the Declaration of Loyalty in the first place.
Now is the time to act, not merely react.
He hung up his woolen coat and scarf. He pulled the chair away from his battered wooden desk. He sat down, opened the top drawer, and pulled out pen and a sheet of the school’s letterhead paper.
With the sample text in front of him, Teigen copied out the letter of protest word for word. His hand shook again when he put his name and address to the document, but the action would be impotent without including them.
“What are you doing, Mr. Hansen?”
Teigen folded the paper as he looked up. “Good morning Brigit.”
The tall sixteen-year-old girl stared at him. “The radio said all of our teachers are being required to sign a declaration of loyalty to Germany.” She frowned and pointed at the folded paper. “Is that what you’re doing?”
Teigen drew a deep breath as he stuck his letter into the addressed envelope. Her question made him realize that he must to decide now how much to tell his students about what had happened since their class met yesterday.
“No.” He shook his head and met her gaze. “Not at all.”
Teigen knew what the answer to that question needed to be. His students were on the brink of adulthood and hiding the truth from them would be a grave disservice. “When class begins, I’ll explain it to everyone.”
Brigit nodded solemnly and walked to her seat. As the rest of the students filed into the classroom they were unusually subdued. There was no horseplay between the boys, no giggling among the girls. Each student sat at their desk and stared, either at him or at the scuffed pine floor.
Teigen wondered which of their parents would back the teachers if the situation grew more dire. And then he wondered what any of them could possibly do even if it did.
The bell rang in the hallway announcing the beginning of the school day.
Teigen walked around his desk and sat on its edge. The ensuing conversation was going to be exactly that: not a lecture, but a conversation.
“How many of you heard about the Declaration of Loyalty which Quisling—” Teigen refused to call the man by his invented title, “—has recently required all Norwegian teachers to sign?”
Every single one of the twenty-seven students in the classroom raised their hand.
A big boy in the back row called out, “Did you sign it?”
Teigen looked straight into the young man’s eyes. “No.”
“Will you?” the boy pressed.
Teigen shook his head. “No.”
The students looked at each other then, their gazes bouncing around the classroom like pinballs searching for others of like mind.
“In fact…” Teigen held up the newly addressed envelope and waited until he reclaimed every student’s attention before he continued. “I’m mailing a letter of protest to Quisling’s Norwegian Teachers Union today, stating my refusal to accept membership because of it.”
Silence blanketed the room, palpable as a winter’s snowfall.
Teigen dropped the envelope back on his desk. The papery smack on the wood reverberated through the otherwise silent classroom.
When he spoke, his voice was intentionally soft. “Before you ask me—no. I have no idea what will happen next.”
“Then why are you doing it?” Brigit’s voice trembled and her eyes were wide.
Teigen hesitated, wanting to choose his words carefully. Whatever he said to these young men and women at this crucial moment was likely to stick in their minds for the rest of their lives—and possibly shape their own decisions when facing life’s undeniable challenges.
“I know right from wrong,” he began. “And I know good from evil. Just as you all do.”
Heads bobbed tentatively. Dozens of eyes fixed on his.
“Making the right choice often means making the hard choice.” He wiped his eyes, startled that they were damp. He hadn’t had time to process the enormity of what he and his fellow teachers were facing but it was clearly hitting him now. “As your teacher, I must lead the way. I must make the choice to stand up for what is right, no matter how hard the consequences might be.”
One of the girls in the front row started to cry quietly into her handkerchief.
Brigit’s brows pulled together. “What about the other teachers? What are they going to do?”
Teigen shrugged. “All but three of us refused to sign the declaration yesterday, and this morning the rest of us received instructions for sending our protest letters. Beyond that, you’ll have to ask each of them.”
He regained his feet and walked back around his desk, determined to maintain as much normalcy as possible. “In the meantime, we have a chemistry exam to review for. Please open your books to chapter twenty-three.”
*****
By the end of the day, Teigen’s head was pounding. Between his lack of sleep, his distress over Elsa’s stance, and the questions in every class period about Quisling’s actions and what would happen next he was completely done in. All he wanted was a warm meal and his bed but wondered if he currently had the strength to get up from his desk and walk home.
“Teigen?”
Elsa’s soft voice yanked his attention to the doorway of his classroom. She stood in the hallway as if afraid to come inside. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen. Though she wasn’t crying at the moment it was obvious she had done a lot of it recently.
“Can I talk to you?”
Teigen stood and approached her. “Of course. Come in.”
She slipped past him and he closed the door behind her. He caught a whiff of the rose oil she had used as perfume since the Nazis had claimed everything of perceived value as theirs.
Elsa walked to his desk and turned around, leaning against it for obvious support. She looked up at him, pinning her lips between her teeth, clearly unwilling to let any words out just yet.
Teigen stood in front of her and wondered if he should touch her. Would that help? Or would she pull away?
He settled on simply asking, “What do you want to talk to me about?”
Her lips slowly extricated themselves from their restraints. “I’ve come to beg you to reconsider.”
The pounding in his head intensified as the hope he felt when he saw her in the hallway fled. An avalanche of anger, frustration, and soul-deep disappointment pummeled his skull.
“No, Elsa. Absolutely not.”
Elsa grabbed his arm. “Why not?”
“Do you even know what the oath says?” Teigen raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d swear to be faithful and obedient to the leader of the German empire—Adolf Hitler!”
Her eyes pooled with tears. “You don’t have to mean it…”
“It’s a sworn oath, Elsa.” He winced as his head throbbed with the beat of his pulse. “It’s not a simple thing for a man to pledge his word. His honor is at stake. Don’t you understand that?”
Teigen pulled her hand off his arm and grabbed the sample letter from his desk. He handed it to her. “The resistance is circulating this response. We are to copy it, sign it, and mail it.”
Elsa held the paper in shaking hands and read the text aloud, her voice flat and unemotional. “I find that I cannot contribute to the upbringing of Norway’s youth under the guidelines for NS Youth Service, as they conflict with my conscience. And as membership in the Norwegian Teacher
s Union obliges me to commit to such an upbringing, as well as other demands which are contrary to my employment contract, I cannot accept membership in the Norwegian Teachers Union.”
She dropped the paper on his desk like it burned her fingers. “You don’t have to send this, Teigen. Just don’t do anything.”
Teigen crossed to the coat rack and grabbed his coat and scarf. He needed the actions to try and control his temper. How could Elsa ask him—repeatedly—to turn his back on his principles? Principles which were becoming more immutable by the minute.
He fisted the garments and glared at her. “It’s too late, Elsa. Not only have I refused to sign that damned declaration, I’ve already sent my letter to their ‘Norwegian Teachers Union’ clearly stating that I refuse!”
Close enough.
Elsa’s jaw dropped. Her shocked gasp sucked all the air from his world. “How could you?” she shouted.
“How could I not?” he shouted back. “And I’m not the only one. You’ll see.”
Teigen strode to the door and jerked it open. He whirled to face the woman who only yesterday he had planned to marry, raise children with, and grow old with and wondered how he’d misjudged her so completely.
“Is that all you have to say to me?” he asked.
Elsa grew suddenly and furiously calm. Jaw clenched, she marched to the open door and stepped out into the hallway before she turned back to face him.
“Damn you and your ridiculous convictions, Teigen Hansen,” the dearest love of his life spat at him. “I hope you get every consequence you deserve.”
He wanted to shout and you as well, but he stopped himself after drawing the breath. Hadn’t he just spent the day talking to students about hard choices?
“I wish you the best, Elsa,” he managed.
“Go to hell.”
Resigned, Teigen watched Elsa stride out of his future until she reached the end of the hall and disappeared from sight.
Chapter
Three
March 2, 1942
Teigen didn’t tell anyone in Oslo that Elsa had ended their engagement three weeks ago, but he did write a letter to his mother at the family’s home in Arendal right away. She responded the same way that all loving mothers do to their sons when they are hurting—with food. The package of liver sausage, rice, and homemade lefse was more welcomed than Teigen wanted to admit.
