For Malice and Mercy, page 15
Hank bounded down the stairs, and Ella handed him the letter.
“This is it,” he smiled as he inspected it.
“Come on. Open it.”
“What if I have to be a dog-face soldier?”
“You won’t find out unless you open it.”
Hank tore open the envelope and read a form letter, mumbling a few words, saying under his breath,
“The President of the United States…” He muttered a few more words until he got to the important part. He cleared his throat and read aloud: “You are hereby notified of your selection for training and service in the Army Air Forces.” He smiled at Ella, then turned to finish reading the letter. “You will report to the Ogden Union Pacific Station at 6:45 a.m. on Saturday 9 January, 1943 for transportation to Keesler Field in Gulfport, Mississippi.”
Hank looked up at Ella and exhaled in a flood of relief.
“I get to fly!” Hank declared through a huge grin. “Maybe I’ll get to fly in one of those gigantic bombers after all.”
Chapter 25
January 4, 1943
Huntsville, Utah
The bitter cold wasn’t uncommon for a January morning in Huntsville. Winter had settled hard in the Ogden Valley. Pineview Reservoir froze solid with at least a foot of ice. Some nights the temperature dipped to fifteen degrees below zero.
Ella and Hank were finishing breakfast and reviewing the unopened mail from the previous few days.
“Is that a letter from Tom?” Hank asked.
“No.” Ella shook her head in disappointment.
“When’s the last time you heard from him?”
“I’ve had just one letter since I got his Christmas package. He said he couldn’t write for a while, so I’m not really expecting anything.”
“Where do you think he is?”
“All I know is what I hear from the news.” Ella cleaned off the dishes from the table and put them in the sink.
“Do you think he’s part of the invasion in Africa we’ve been hearing about?” Hank asked, but when her eyes shifted over to the map on the wall, he regretted it.
“More than likely, but I just don’t know. It’s so stressful to think that he’s over there being shot at. I just can’t let myself think about it too much or I…” Ella stopped to think, then pointed her finger to her temple. “You know what? I forgot to tell you we got a letter from Mama and Papa yesterday. They’re at a new camp in Texas.”
Hank looked up from his pile of mail.
“She said it’s a brand-new place that’s larger. She wrote down some of the details but the censors crossed them out. There are over a hundred Germans there now, and it’s designed for families with children, so they have a school and a playground and everything.”
“They’re locking up children now?”
“No, these are families who want to stay together. They’re letting wives and children come so they don’t have to be separated,” Ella explained.
“Maybe we should volunteer to become internees?” Hank joked. Ella gave him a scowl.
“Mama said it’s much better than the other place in California. They’re living in a new cottage all by themselves.”
“That is better,” Hank smiled. “But what to do with those pesky armed guards.”
Ella ignored his sarcasm. “It’s called Crystal City. It’s out in the middle of Texas somewhere. I’ll put their new address in your book. Please make sure you send them a letter once you get to Mississippi.”
Hank answered with a small nod.
Hank’s final days at work were uneventful. He trained his replacement, a bright and studious college student named Joy. She had learned bookkeeping from her father, who owned the old Exclusive Pharmacy downtown. Because she was such a fast learner, Art told Hank to take Thursday and Friday off to get ready to go. “Go spend time with Ella. Go be with your friends,” Art encouraged.
“I didn’t expect to say goodbye so soon.”
“We’re going to miss you, Hank.” Art shook Hank’s hand. “I’ve always felt bad that I couldn’t help you get your pilot’s license. But I’m sure glad you got into the Air Corps.”
“Me too. I sure hope I don’t get stuck in a desk job. I want to fly.”
“My guess is you can be just about anything you want. A navigator. A bombardier. A gunner.”
“I hope so,” Hank smiled. “I just want to be in an airplane. That’s all.”
Art looked at Hank and paused.
“For your sake, I hope so son. You’ve got what it takes, and if you test well, you’ll help yourself a lot. But just remember, sometimes the folks in the Army make some pretty dumb decisions. Just be ready for anything.”
During the next two days, Hank and Ella were with each other at every opportunity. Ella got out of class a little early each day to spend time with him. They used the time together to splurge at Hank’s favorite places, like Ross and Jack’s for a burger and spuds and Farr’s Ice Cream for a large cone.
Friday evening was their last night together. Using their final meat ration before the end of the month, Hank watched as Ella prepared a near flawless reproduction of Mama’s wienerschnitzel recipe.
After dinner, Hank went to take the garbage outside, struggling against the door.
“What’s the matter?” Ella teased.
“I don’t know. I think the door is frozen shut.” Hank pulled on the door until it squealed opened. “I can’t believe how cold it is out there.” Hank stepped over to the thermometer and called out. “Ella, come and look at this. It’s already minus twenty, and it’s only eight o’clock.”
“What time do you have to be at the train station?” she asked.
“Six-thirty.”
“I’m not so sure we’re going to be able to get the car started in this cold. What happens if you don’t make your train?”
“I can be arrested for being AWOL,” Hank said. “I have to be there on time. They won’t take any excuses.”
Ella tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. “We could put blankets over the engine. Papa used to do that when it got cold.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t always work. If we want to make sure she’ll start, we’ll have to take turns throughout the night to get up and start the car, especially if it’s already twenty below,” Hank explained.
Hank bundled up in his coat, gloves, boots, and scarf, and hurried over the beaten path to their 1935 Chrysler sedan. The cold had already gripped the battery, and it was slow to turn over.
“Oh, come on, you stupid car,” Hank complained to himself as he stepped on the gas. It fired up at last, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He let it idle for several minutes then turned it off. Taking a blanket from the trunk, he popped open the hood and unfolded the blanket over the engine. After closing the hood, he scurried inside to get warm.
Each hour, they took turns bundling up, starting the car, and letting it idle for a while. At midnight, Hank felt Ella push on his shoulder. “It’s your turn.”
Hour after hour, they took their turns venturing out in the frigid cold to start the car.
At four-thirty in the morning, Hank walked back into the house and into the kitchen to check the thermometer. “Thirty-one below,” he mumbled to himself. He had left the car running, as they planned to leave in about an hour. With the slick roads, they needed at least an hour to make it to Ogden with a few minutes to spare before his train left at six-thirty. Hank dropped himself down onto the sofa next to Ella, still bundled up and asleep from taking her turn an hour earlier.
Something inside Hank’s head woke him up. He had somehow turned off the alarm clock on the end table.
“Ella! Wake up! It’s twenty minutes to six. I’m going to miss my train!”
He flipped on the light and found Ella awaking from a deep sleep.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I couldn’t drag myself up those stairs and must have dozed off here.”
Scrambling to get dressed, Hank gathered all of his belongings and both of them dashed out the door into the idling car.
“How’re we doing on gas?” Ella asked.
“Maybe a half a tank. We should be okay.”
A steady snow was falling, making each perilous twist and turn in the road even more treacherous than usual.
“Be careful, Hank,” Ella demanded. “I’d rather have you court-martialed than dead.”
Hank gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles white as he muttered to himself.
After years of driving Ogden Canyon’s winding roads and steep curves, Hank knew to take advantage of the light traffic on Saturday morning. When he could, he’d straighten out the turns if no other cars were coming. Hank smiled at Ella as she pressed her foot to the floor and held on tight as Hank sped through the steep canyon. “Please slow down, Hank.”
Hank checked his watch and pressed on, unwilling to let up until he could get to the train station.
“Hank!” Ella screamed. The car fish-tailed as Hank over-corrected to avoid an oncoming car.
“I’ve got it. Calm down.” Hank’s wide eyes contradicted his words. “We’ll be okay.” He slowed down to right himself, then picked up speed again. Hank glanced over at Ella, her lips whispering a prayer as she clung to the door handle.
The thirty-minute ride seemed like a lifetime, but at last they emerged from the mouth of the canyon.
“There,” Hank said with a smile. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
Ella slapped Hank on the arm.
“I thought I was going to die.”
Hank peeked at his watch. “It’s six-twenty. I’ve still got a chance to make it.”
“We’ve made it this far. Please don’t kill us in the final few miles, Hank. Please,” she begged. Hank ignored Ella’s plea and accelerated the car, speeding through Ogden’s abandoned, snow-packed streets.
He looked again at his watch and said, “I think I’m going to make it. I’ve got four minutes.”
Hank ran a stop sign, then another.
Ella screamed, “Stop it, Hank! It’s not worth getting us both killed.”
“We’ll be okay. There’s nobody on the streets. Not even the cops are up this early.”
Ella dipped her head into her hands. With each hard bump her hands jerked away from her face.
“We’re going to make it. My watch is a few minutes fast. If I’m lucky, I think I can still make it.”
Hank pulled up to the train station and skidded against the curb. The overhead announcer made a final call for Hank’s train.
“See, I told you my watch is a little bit fast. I’ve got a minute to spare,” he laughed. He reached in the back seat to grab his suitcase.
As he slammed the door shut, Ella looked at Hank with tears in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
Hank’s smile fell when he saw his sister’s worn face and trembling shoulders.
“I love you, Hank,” Ella said, voice cracking. Hank pulled her next to him with his strong arms.
“I love you, sis,” he forced a smile. “You take care of yourself and don’t work too hard. Everything is going to work out just as it’s supposed to.”
Hank watched as Ella took a deep breath. “I’m sorry there aren’t more people here to see you off.” Her voice squeaked as she spoke.
“It’s early.” Hank gave Ella a playful smile. “I’m not too worried about it. Besides, we’re not the most popular people in town right now.”
“Please…be…careful.” She eked out each word slow and clear. “We need you to come home.”
She buried her head in Hank’s arms.
“I will,” he mumbled.
Suddenly, she pushed him away.
“You’d better get going,” her voice was firm and clear. “You’ll miss your train.”
Hank smiled, then turned and ran through the huge double doors leading to his train. He rushed past a train official, stepped up to the train, and watched Ella vanish in the darkness.
Ella waved as the whistle blew. Within seconds the train began inching away from the station. As Ella looked on, a flood of emotions rushed through her. Her brother was on that train. He was the final connection to her family. She had never felt so isolated and alone. Despite how much she wanted to cry, she was spent. She was too tired to do much of anything but get back in the car and drive home.
Ella drove home though the canyon. The snow had let up, making the roads only a little less treacherous. After a still-harrowing drive home, she pulled into her driveway. She dragged herself inside the house and removed her coat. Something was different. A new and overpowering loneliness hit her as she realized this house was now her responsibility.
Before she headed to her room to sleep, she went to a drawer in the kitchen and removed a small rectangular piece of material about the size of an envelope. She had sewn it just for this moment. A blue American star was sewn on a white background, bordered with two red vertical bars on each side. Gold fringe decorated the bottom. She hung it in the front window, then turned back to an empty house. Millions of other households throughout the country had hung a blue star in their windows. Now, she could do it too.
Chapter 26
March 24, 1943
Crystal City, Texas
The Crystal City internment camp exploded with growth, from the number of internees to the size and scope of the facilities. Although construction hummed along at a furious pace, the facilities were still unfinished when new internees kept arriving.
“We got another group of Germans today,” Karl announced to Marta while she sat at her table, writing letters to Ella and Hank.
“We also saw a few more Japanese, too. I heard one of the security officers say that this new group brought the camp population to well over five hundred. There are three hundred seventy-five Germans now, and almost a hundred and fifty Japanese.”
“Where are they putting them all?”
“I don’t know. They keep telling us that they’re going to move all the Germans somewhere else, but then they squeeze in more Germans,” Karl replied. “Luckily the German families are getting the cottages with the toilets. I don’t think they have cottages with bathrooms over on the Japanese side. At least not yet.”
Marta agreed and added, “I also heard they’ve completely given up the idea for Crystal City to be all Japanese. That was the original plan, but there are just too many Germans. They’re even bringing in Germans from South America who speak Spanish.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would America be rounding up Germans from other countries?”
Marta shook her head in confusion. “Why are they doing any of this?”
Just then, they heard a brisk knock on their door. Marta opened the door with trepidation.
“Hi, Helga,” she smiled, “Come in.”
Helga Fischer was a round, rosy-cheeked woman who wore her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was an acquaintance from Santa Anita, a socialite of sorts, and they didn’t have too much in common. Still, they were cordial.
“You know Mr. O’Rourke, right? The camp director?” she asked.
They both gave a quick nod.
“So far, I’ve seen no reason to dislike him.”
“I can’t say I have either,” Karl said.
“He wants a better system of addressing our complaints and grievances. But because so many people complain to him or ask him for help, he’d like a German representative to speak on behalf of all Germans. I would like to nominate you, Karl,” she said. “Would you be willing?”
Karl drew back. “Why me? There are plenty of others who really like being in charge.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she explained. “I don’t want a zealot in charge. You know who I mean, right?”
“We know who you mean,” Marta added. “Some of those Nazi fanatics would be unbearable.”
“You’re much more level-headed and will represent all Germans best,” she added smiling at Karl.
“Okay, I’ll do it if you think it’s for the best,” Karl said with hesitation.
“Great, I’ll let Mr. O’Rourke know.”
Karl shrugged and grinned at Marta as she walked out.
“It would be good for you.” Marta nudged him in the ribs and smiled.
Two weeks went by, and no spokesman had been named. Everyone knew about the delay and had a theory about a power struggle happening behind the scenes.
One morning, as Marta and Karl walked home from the showers, Helga stopped them.
“This is what I heard,” she explained, gesturing with her hands. “A man named Heinz Schmidt arrived from Ellis Island and has at least twenty members of his family and friends with him. When they learned that the camp spokesman appointee was not decided yet, they demanded that Schmidt be selected. A few days later, a man named Horst Müller came in from Camp Forrest in Tennessee. He also has a large number of family and friends and they wanted him to be spokesman.” Helga shook her head in exasperation.
“So, Horst Müller’s group threatened mutiny if Müller wasn’t chosen. The next day, the Schmidt delegation got wind of what the Müllers were doing, and they threatened mutiny if Schmidt wasn’t selected.”
“So what’s going to happen now?” Marta asked.
“I think O’Rourke is going to get you and the other two leaders together and try to hash things out. So, don’t be surprised if he invites you to his office,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s such a mess.”
Two days later, Karl sat in O’Rourke’s office with Müller and Schmidt.
The camp director explained his dilemma, hands folded in front of him on his desk. Since O’Rourke didn’t speak German, the three were forced to speak English.
“Since I can’t get you Germans to agree on a single spokesman, I will ask the three of you to work together.”
