Fire and Steel, Volume 2

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Yes,” Adelia exclaimed. “Edie speaks for us as well.”

  Brother Mangelsen smiled, seemingly pleased. “That was our hope, Sister Westland, and yes, you have our permission to share in this experience, except those few things that are confidential.”

  He reached down and picked up a white notepad. He glanced at it for a moment and then looked up at them. “I am very pleased to announce that in a few minutes, President Charles W. Penrose, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, will be joining us.”

  All four of them exchanged surprised but pleased looks. A member of the First Presidency? Edie thought. Wow! What will the kids think about that?

  “He will set Brothers Reissner and Westland apart to their assignment and give them both an apostolic blessing.” He looked to the two women. “And if you would like, he has offered to give you sisters an apostolic blessing as well.”

  Adelia and Edie exchanged looks and then reached out and clasped each other’s hand for a moment. “I would like that very much,” Adelia said.

  “Yes,” Edie whispered, reeling a little at the thought.

  “In the meantime, until he arrives, I would like to give a little context to what you two brethren are about to undertake.”

  He lifted the pad and began to read.

  “In July of 1837, two ordained apostles, Heber C. Kimball and Orson Hyde, along with some other brethren, stepped off a ship in Liverpool, England, and immediately traveled to Preston, England. By coincidence, the day they arrived in Preston happened to be a parliamentary election day. The first thing they saw as they got down from the stagecoach was a large election banner that contained three simple words: ‘Truth Will Prevail.’ Heber later wrote in his journal of that moment and said: ‘We looked at each other and said with one voice: “Amen and amen.”’”

  Mangelsen looked up. “In hindsight, it is evident that those words describe the incredibly successful work that followed in England, but also throughout the rest of Europe. Indeed, it could be said that it is a motto that describes the work of the Church. Truth will prevail!”

  Brother Mangelsen went on. “Up until 1900, almost 92,000 converts from Europe heeded the call to gather to Zion. Thereafter, even though the Church began to encourage them to stay in their homelands, thousands more have come to America.”

  Brother Mangelsen lowered his notepad. “Think of that for a moment. How many people do you know personally who are first-generation immigrants from Europe?”

  Edie was already doing just that. Both of Mitch’s parents came from England. Edie’s own Oma and Opa Zimmer had come from Germany. She thought of many others of their neighbors and friends who had come from Denmark, Ireland, Wales, and elsewhere.

  She stopped as she saw Brother Mangelsen smiling at them. He had been watching them count the people up in their heads. “As one of the Brethren once said,” he chuckled, “you can’t hardly bump into a tree in Utah without knocking out half a dozen European-born relatives.’”

  They laughed. “That’s certainly true down in San Juan County,” Mitch said.

  Brother Mangelsen raised the notepad again. “Now, let’s focus on Germany for a moment. The first apostle to visit Germany was Orson Hyde, who stayed there for ten months while on his way to the Holy Land. That was in 1841, six years before the Saints came to Utah.

  “Ten years later, Elder John Taylor arrived in Hamburg and directed a translation of the Book of Mormon into German. The first mission president in Germany was Daniel Carn, who arrived that same year.” He smiled. “He set a precedent for other missionaries when he spent time in prison for preaching the gospel.

  “By 1906, the Church in Germany had grown to the point that they received their first visit from a President of the Church, President Joseph F. Smith. Since 1900, Germany has been one of the top ten countries in the world for baptisms and number of members.”

  “Really?” Adelia turned red as she realized she had blurted that out loud.

  “Yes, really. At the turn of the century, there were sixteen hundred members in Germany. Now there are an estimated eight thousand!” He laughed at their expressions. “Yes. Eight thousand! And that doesn’t count the more than six thousand who have emigrated to America since the work there began. And. . . .” He was obviously enjoying himself. “Are you ready for this? If current trends continue, in about eighteen months from now, Germany will not only be the number-one baptizing mission in the world, but it will have more members than anywhere but Utah.

  “But those are not just cold, hard facts,” he went on. “As President Valentine told you at your reunion, with few exceptions, their faith is strong and their testimonies are unshakeable.” He leaned forward, his fists on the table, totally in earnest. “We know that their faith actually increased during the war years. We have a report from a branch president there that most of his members fasted on fast Sunday and gave what they saved to the poor. Can you believe that? In the midst of starvation, they fasted and gave to the poor.” He smiled ruefully. “So, how did the branch president decide who to give the food and money to? Everyone in the branch is poor!”

  Brother Mangelsen let his eyes move from one face to the other. “How I envy you the experiences you are going to have, brethren. You two, along with President Cannon, will make history. But remember, you are but an instrument in the hands of the Lord. I feel impressed to promise you that if you are faithful, you are going to come away from this experience much more blessed than the people you go to serve.” He looked like he was going to say something more but then just shook his head. “And I say that in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  As the group murmured their amens, Mangelsen looked at his watch again. “President Penrose should be here any moment. “Sister Westland, would you close with prayer for us?”

  Edie wiped quickly at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Brother Mangelsen,” she cried. “That’s not fair. I’m not sure I can right now.”

  He smiled. “I know, but I’m not sure any of us can, either, so do your best.”

  6:10 p.m.—Temple Square, Salt Lake City, Utah

  Mitch held Edie’s hand as they strolled along the walkway between the Assembly Hall and the Tabernacle. Several flowering bushes were in bloom, and the flower beds were filled with geraniums, petunias, and a rainbow of other flowers. In the warmth of the summer evening, their aroma filled the air. Mitch and Edie were headed east, moving back toward the Hotel Utah. Mitch was unusually quiet, but Edie sensed that he wasn’t looking for conversation at the moment. And she wasn’t sure she was, either. It had been an incredible day with an amazing end to it. So she was content to just hold his hand and walk quietly with him.

  As they came toward Seagull Monument, Mitch suddenly pointed. There was no one there at the moment. “Want to sit for a while?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “If you’re hungry, we can head for the hotel and find the Reissners and eat with them.”

  “In a while. It’s such a nice evening, and it’s quiet.”

  They sat down on the rim of the fountain, and she scooted closer until their shoulders were touching. Still Mitch said nothing, and Edie could tell that he was frustrated. So she moved in even closer and took his hand. “Mitch, I know that it seems like this is never going to happen, and for a man who hates having things left undone, that’s pretty annoying.”

  “Annoying doesn’t begin to express it,” he muttered.

  “But six weeks, Mitch. All of this has come about in just six weeks. That’s amazing. Now, I understand that in Mitch Westland time, that’s about six months. But remember, this isn’t like waiting for a calf to be born or for some bull elk to walk into the clearing so you can shoot him. You’re waiting for two national governments to act.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “And President Penrose said that they’re expecting approval of your names any time now.”

  “I know, Edie,” Mitch said, with a touch of petulance. “But what if it’s anoth
er two months, and then another? I’ll go crazy.”

  “Then I’ll just have to lock you in the barn. Tell everybody you’ve gone looney on me.”

  “Looney?” He grabbed at her, but she was too quick for him.

  Laughing, she danced away from him. He got to his feet, his hands coming up into claws, as they did when he was playing monster with the twins.

  “No, Mitch!” Squealing with laughter, Edie whirled to dart away and ran squarely into Jacob Reissner, nearly knocking him down.

  “Whoa!” he cried, jumping back.

  Edie gasped and went instantly beet red. She saw that Mitch was blushing too.

  Jacob managed a smile. “Having a little argument about who gets to throw the pennies in the fountain, are we?” he asked sardonically.

  “Uh. . . .” Mitch grinned. “Actually, we were just talking about seeing if you two have had dinner yet.”

  “Yes, I could see that,” he said with a teasing grin.

  Adelia stepped up. “No, we haven’t. That’s why we came looking for you.”

  “Good,” Edie said. “Let’s do it. This husband of mine gets grumpy when he’s not fed regularly.”

  But as they headed for the south gate of Temple Square, they stopped. Just coming through the gate in full stride was Brother Mangelsen. He waved and broke into a trot.

  “Good news,” he said as he came up to them. “The First Presidency has just received word from President Cannon in Switzerland. He now has your visas to enter Germany.”

  Mitch gave a whoop that turned people’s heads from clear across Temple Square. Reissner did a momentary little jig and then asked, “So how soon can we leave?”

  “The visas are good for two months of travel anywhere in Germany starting. . . .” He stopped, and the smile returned as he let the silence stretch out.

  Mitch shot him a dirty look. “Do you want to go into that fountain and dive for pennies?” he bellowed. “Tell me.”

  Edie was horrified. Even Brother Mangelsen was a bit shocked. “Starting July first.”

  In one quick movement, Mitch whirled and swung Edie off her feet. “Did you hear that, Edie? Did you hear that?”

  “I did,” she said, laughing at his excitement. You would have thought he had just singlehandedly won the World Series.

  “And what does that mean for us?” Reissner asked next.

  “That’s the other good news. The First Presidency cabled Senator Smoot with that information. They just heard back. Now that President Cannon has Germany’s approval, our government has officially approved your departure as soon as you can be ready. The First Presidency wants you there before the first so that President Cannon is not delayed further.”

  Mitch could barely speak. “Really?” he said over and over. “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Mangelsen said. “The question is, how long will it take you and Sister Westland to go back to Monticello and get you packed, Brother Westland?”

  Edie laughed, though she was suddenly very close to tears. “He’s been packed since the reunion.” She turned to him. “If we hurry, we could catch the eight o’clock train to Thompson Springs tonight. That would put us home tomorrow afternoon. That will give you a chance to say goodbye to the children and the ward, and . . .” She had to catch herself. “Then you could be back up to Thompson Springs first thing Thursday.”

  Mitch was nodding, sobered now by the reality of it all. He turned to Mangelsen. “And I could be back here on Friday.”

  “Wonderful,” Mangelsen exclaimed. “You go back to the hotel and pack; I’ll go purchase your tickets.

  Reissner took his wife’s hand. “I think we’d better head home now too.” He looked at Edie. “We’ll have to postpone that dinner until we get back, I guess.”

  Edie managed a smile as she went over and gave Adelia a hug. “And I was hoping we’d have time for a good cry together.”

  June 29, 1919, 7:05 p.m.—Railway station, Basel, Switzerland

  Mitch watched with dismay as the train platform gradually emptied and they were left alone. Reissner, also looking a little discouraged, picked up his bags. “Let’s go into the main station. If he got delayed, he’ll come in there first.”

  “Das ist gut,” Mitch replied, reaching down for his own bag. “We’ve been on that train so long, I feel like my legs are sticks of wood.”

  “Ja. It feels good to move around.”

  “Have you been here before?”

  “In Basel? Or the train station?”

  “Both.”

  “Yes. Munich is only about a four-hour train ride from here, so when I was district president there, I would come down from time to time for meetings with President Valentine.”

  “And you brought your elders out through Switzerland in 1914?”

  “That’s right. The president was up north with Elder Hyrum Smith, but we didn’t dare go north. It meant crossing all—”

  “Brother Reissner!”

  The shout brought them both around with a jerk. An older man in a business suit was hurrying across the large hall, waving one arm. Reissner waved back, and then to Mitch he said, “I think we are about to meet President Cannon.”

  Chapter Notes

  The Heber C. Kimball quote cited here is found in Truth Shall Prevail, xvii.

  The stats on emigration from Germany come from Mormonism in Germany, 68.

  As noted in chapter 57, the assignment of Jacob Reissner and Mitchell Westland, both of whom are fictional characters, is not based on specific historical information. However, President Cannon did obtain permission from the German government to travel throughout the country to assess the members’ conditions and needs. There is a slight discrepancy in the accounts of when this travel occurred. However, since we do know that President Cannon sent a wire to the First Presidency on September 2, 1919, with a report on the situation and an urgent request for help, it is likely that he left early in July.

  August 30, 1919, 3:35 p.m.—EDW Ranch, Monticello, San Juan County, Utah

  Mitch Jr. took off his rain slicker and hat under the overhang of the front porch, shook them off, and came inside the house. Edie, who had stood at the window and watched as he put his horse in the barn, went into the entryway and waited as he hung his things up on the hooks there. “Looks like a real gully buster out there,” she said.

  He nodded. “And no sign of letting up, either. Those dry washes are dangerous.”

  “Where’s Frank?”

  “He and the Adams boys are up on North Cottonwood Creek somewhere.”

  “The lightning could be real bad today.” Edie tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

  “Frank knows that. And he knows to stay out of the washes. He’ll be all right, Mama.”

  She sighed but said nothing. To her surprise, her son came over and took her in his arms. “Frank’s a good boy, Mom. Since Dad’s left, he’s really stepped up.”

  She looked up at him. “Have you told him that?”

  “Yes. Before they took the herd up there.” He touched her cheek. “He’ll be sixteen in February. Dad was riding up on Elk Mountain with Kumen Jones and Lem Redd and facing down Moenkopi Mike by the time he was sixteen.”

  “I know, but. . . .” Finally, Edie shrugged. “I’ve got some hot cocoa on the stove.”

  “Sounds good. Where’s June?”

  “Up at the house with the twins and your kids. They’re making cookies.”

  Mitch Jr. sat down while she got two cups, filled them with the steaming hot chocolate, and sat down with him. They sipped it quietly for a time. She studied her oldest son as he stared into his cup. Though people said he looked like her, she couldn’t see it. . He was so much like his father in temperament that she had to laugh at times. “Do you wish it was you?” she asked softly.

  His head came up. “What?”

  “In Germany?”

  He took another sip and sat back. “Yes and no. I’d love to get to Germany sometime. And what Dad’s doing right now is incredibly
exciting. Even more than missionary work, in my opinion. But to be gone for years at a time when your family is so young? I don’t know how you did it.”

  “And Dad was gone for only a year,” she said. “Some of those early missionaries used to be gone three or four or even five years.”

  “I was glad I went to England during the war and had a chance to use my German. But—”

  They turned as the back door slammed. “Tina? Is that you?” Edie called.

  A moment later, her daughter burst into the room, her coat dripping water and her hair soaking wet. Edie shook her head. “I told you it was going to rain. Why didn’t you at least take your hat?”

  Tina ignored that, unbuttoning her coat and tossing it over a chair. Then she held up a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “Look, Mama. It’s a package from Daddy.” Edie jumped to her feet and took it from her. There were a few spots of water on the paper, but that was all. “Thank you for keeping it dry, Tina. Get a towel and dry your hair.”

  “Open it, Mama.”

  She looked at the postmark. “It’s dated almost three weeks ago.” She carefully unwrapped the paper. “It feels like a book of some kind.”

  “Hurry, Mama,” Tina urged.

  Mitch Jr. took out his knife and cut the string, As Edie pulled the paper away, a small card fell out. She picked it up and read it aloud.

  15 Aug 1919

  Dearest Edie and family,

  Sorry I haven’t written more. Government still censoring mail, blacking out anything that suggests conditions here are not ideal. Sending this to Switzerland with a member who promises to send it on to you. This says it all. Deeply moving, deeply troubling, deeply inspiring experience. Will try to call when we reach Basel again, hopefully around September 1. All my love, Dad.

  As Edie set the card down and picked up the book, Tina gave a little squeal of amazement. “Oh, Mama, it’s Daddy’s journal.”

  7:45 p.m

  That night, with every member of the family present except Mitch himself, of course, and Frank, who was tending cattle in the wilderness, the Westland family gathered in the living room of the EDW Ranch house. And there, Mitchell Arthur Westland Jr. read the journal that had arrived earlier in the day. At Edie’s request, this was to be done without interruption. After that, it would be open for questions and discussion.