FORGET-ME-NOTS

FORGET ME NOTS

COPYRIGHT 2022JamesWCarr

ISBN: 9781989425428

Chapter One

Corporal

Hugh McGill was only a few steps from the top of the hill and was breathing hard when he looked up at a German soldier unslinging his rifle and aiming it at him.

Hugh unslung his rifle and pointed it at the German soldier. They held their rifles at each other for a full minute before the German lowered his rifle and smiled at him. Hugh did the same and showed his watch to the German. It was two minutes to eleven.

They smiled at each other, threw their rifles to the ground, walked toward each other with outstretched arms, and laughed in their ears as they heard the artillery blasts from each of their camps signal the end of the war.

They sat down on the grass, and Hugh reached into his pocket for his pack of Players No. 10. The German soldier, whose blue eyes followed his movements, nodded, reached into his pocket, and found his pack of Eckstein’s. They traded cigarettes, and Hugh began coughing from the first puff. They lay back on the grass and watched the clouds float in the blue sky. After five days of constant shelling, the silence helped them find their way to their new reality. The war was over. No more trenches to mount and run in the direction of the enemy and no more hearing the cries of pain of their comrades.

Six German soldiers found them lying on the ground and pointed their rifles at Hugh. The German soldier at his side rose on one elbow, showed them his watch, and shouted to them. Hugh traded cigarettes with the others, and one of the German soldiers unslung his canteen and offered his canteen to Hugh, who gagged. The canteen had been filled with Brandy. Everyone laughed as they emptied the canteen and lay on the grass.

One of the soldiers began to cry, and the others followed the moving clouds for at least 20 minutes before High slung his rifle over his shoulder and invited them to do the same. He waved them to join him back to the Canadian camp. All the soldiers were sitting on the grass waiting for supper and rose when they saw Hugh come with six German soldiers. A few soldiers scrambled to find their rifles but were to drop them by one of the officers who had watched them enter.

“The war’s over, lads. Let’s have no more killing. Ever again.”

The German soldiers stayed with them for supper. One of them, who had studied in England before the war, offered to translate for everyone. The soldier who had met Hugh first wanted to know Hugh’s name.

“And what is his name?”

“Konrad. Konrad Aberbach. He wants to know if you are married and where you worked before the war.”

Hugh told him and asked their translater about his new friend.

“Konrad comes from the coal mining Ruhr Area in North Rhine-Westphalia, and he is still unmarried.”

“Tell him I am married with one child and was also a miner before the war in Cape Breton. It’s part of Nova Scotia.”

“Konrad wants you to know he will come to visit you one day.”

“Tell him I have an extra bedroom for him.” He asked around for a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote down his address for him. He passed his note to the translater, who also supplied Konrad’s name and address for him.

Hugh and Konrad laughed and shook hands tightly. The German soldiers left a few minutes after supper and shook everyone’s hand in the camp before heading back over the hill.

A few weeks later, they boarded a boat for Halifax from Saint-Malo. The atmosphere differed from the voyage when everyone sang war songs and couldn’t wait to be in the trenches. This time they kept to themselves with the officers and men of their group, and no one wanted to talk about their lost friends.

Hugh spent much of his time topside. Unlike the others, the rolling waters of the Atlantic did not seem to bother him. He felt scarred inside and hoped that the horrific things he had seen would fade from his mind forever. He was going home and leaving all the killing and death behind him.

The others spent much of their time in their bunks, playing cards and getting sick. For Hugh, the Atlantic was a cure. When rough water was forecast, he headed for the deck. He held onto the railing as the waves grew in size, and the boat would rock from one side to the other. He looked ahead at a huge wave coming in their direction. It crashed onto the deck, and the undertow took him with him. He spotted a rope dangling from the wall, and he grabbed it and held it as tight as he could. He was in danger of being washed away with it when another giant wave hit the deck again, throwing him against the wall.

He tried to right himself when another wave knocked him off his feet. He held onto the rope and could see another wave heading his way. He stood and crawled to the doorway. The wave hit the deck just as it reached the door. It drenched him again, and he slipped inside and held the stairway railing just before the next wave hit.

He managed to climb down the stairs and crawl to the cabin where his comrades were trying to steady themselves in their hammocks. Hugh sat on the floor and reached for his towel dangling from his hammock to dry himself. He sat on the floor and tried to rock with the boat until the sea grew calm again.

“You look as though you’ve gone to hell and back,” said Jack Collins, one of his mates, who sat beside him. “You need to change and dry yourself. They’ll be announcing supper a few minutes from now.”

Jack helped him to his feet and went inside the toilet to wash the sea off his body and don new clothes. They joined the others in the lineup for supper. They were serving beef and mashed potatoes. Some of their mates still felt queasy and settled for chocolate cake and tea. But High was starving and dug into the beef as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Jack couldn’t finish his and pushed the rest onto Hugh’s plate.

“You look great, despite what you just went through topside,” said Jack.

Hugh looked at him for a few seconds. “You know, Jack, this is the best I’ve felt since we left that hell hole. It’s almost as though the sea washed me clean from it all.” He knew deep down it hadn’t cured him but just made him feel a bit better.”

The train back to the Ruhr was packed with soldiers anxious like himself to get back home. Konrad had enough war to last him a lifetime. He removed his cap and hung it on the hanger above their seat. He sat next to

another soldier who had lost his arm, crying with his face to the window. Konrad offered him a cigarette, and the soldier took it from him with his left arm and put it on his lips. Konrad lit it for him and sat back.

“Mein Gott,” Konrad heard himself say. “I want never to see another war. May I die before I ever do.”

His companion nodded and started crying again. Konrad wanted to reach out and comfort him but wasn’t sure how he would take it.

“How did we ever get into this?” said the soldier. Then, after a pause, “did you ever kill anyone?”

“I’m not sure. The only thing I can say is I had my rifle pointed at an enemy soldier two minutes before the cease-fire started. He raised his rifle at me, but we both lowered them before the cease-fire and hugged each other. We later traded cigarettes, and when some of our comrades found us, he invited us for supper at his camp. I have his name, and he has mine. We were both coal miners before the war.”

The train had just come into a station, and they could see some more soldiers come aboard. The train jerked as it proceeded out of the station, where they could see the countryside and fields of harvested wheat as they passed them by.

Another soldier sat down opposite them. He had lost a leg and had to be helped into his seat. Another soldier put his crutches in the overhead rack and squeezed his hand before taking the empty seat on the other side of them. They introduced themselves to each other and sat back.

The soldier who had lost his arm reached out and shook his hand. They both tried to smile at each other. “My name,” said Konrad, “is Konrad Aberbach. I’m on my way to the Ruhr.” He shook each of their hands. The soldier who sat on the other side also joined them and introduced himself. He smoked a pipe, and his friend, who had lost his leg, offered them a cigarette.

They suddenly became friends and started telling jokes and singing some songs they had heard in cafés during the war. Konrad shook hands with them twice each before getting ready to leave and wishing them luck. He stood in the doorway as the train came to a stop.

He could see his mother and father standing behind the crowd of wives who had greeted them. Konrad let the wounded off first, helping them take the first step on the stairway. He waved to his mother and father as soon as they could see him on the stairway. His mother ran to him and hugged him long and hard, crying as she held him back and looking into his face.

“You’ve lost weight,” said his father, who grabbed his arm and bag.

“Thank God you have not lost an arm or a leg and that you’ve come back to us in one piece.”

“Where is Heidi?”

“Your sister is at home cooking a special supper for us. All your favourites.”

“Did you kill many of the enemy?” said his father.

“I hope not.”

***

Kay was waiting for Hugh close to the gangplank at Halifax hbour. She was wearing a new dress. It was yellow, his favourite colour, with a bright blue jumper, despite the cold wind blowing in from the Atlantic. His five-year-old daughter was waving the flag as soon as her mother pointed to him. He hugged Kay for the longest time. His mother and father had also come. It was a holiday at the colliery, and his father was dressed in his old black suit. He was leaning on his cane, talking to his mother.

They took the bus back to Cape Breton, a five-hour drive from Halifax with all the stops and starts. A few friends had gathered at the bus depot to welcome him. Even his foreman at the colliery put his arm on his shoulder and reminded him his old place at the mine was waiting for him.

A week later, his wife mentioned to him that he had changed. “You’re not the same person I knew before you left. Did you find someone else while you were away?”

Hugh shook his head. “It’s not that Kay and all the good friends lost their arms, legs, or even their heads. Seeing it did something to me, I thought I was clear, but it keeps coming back. I cannot even describe it to you.”

She put her arms around him, but he got up. “I need to take a long walk. I hope you understand.”

She cried to sleep by the time he returned and lay beside her.

Work came as a release, but the old images still made their appearance in the darkness where he dug out the coal seams. He knew he needed to see a doctor, but something he couldn’t explain stopped him from going to one. Konrad was in his mind for some reason, and he dug out his handwritten address, sat down and wrote him a letter to see how he was adapting to civilian life.

Two months later, he received a long letter. He, too, was waking up with nightmares and had quit his old job. One passage stood out: “I am learning English and how to write it. Please do not forget me.”

Hugh sat down and wrote him back immediately, this time describing the nightmares he was having. He ended the letter: “Should you find it

possible to come and visit me, my door is always open to you. And perhaps, a job in the coal mine where I work.”

A loud blast from the mine two days later signalled a major cave-in at a neighbouring shaft. The telephone rang a few minutes later. “It’s Mike O’Neil, Hugh. We need you and a dozen others to help dig out 37 trapped miners in No. 3. Your father is one of them.”

“Count on me, Mike. How bad is it?”

“Really bad. They’ll not make it if we don’t get a pipe down.”

“My father’s trapped in a cave-in in No. 3. Go and see my mother while I get to the colliery.” He fastened his jacket and tied a bandana around his neck. It was early March, and Spring was in the air as he ran into four others heading for the shaft.

Mike O’Keefe and a dozen others were waiting for them. They didn’t wait but went to work immediately. They took the elevator down as far as it would go, equipped with picks and shovels. A large canvass sling was lowered for them to shovel their dirt into. They breathed hard after ten minutes, but Mike and six others carried on until they needed to rest. Hugh and the others went to work immediately, hauling the rope to raise the sling.

An hour later, they could push down two 12-inch pipes into the area where the miners were trapped. Hugh could hear his father shout a loud “thank you,” followed by a cheer from the others.

They took turns eating the supper that had been hoisted down to them. A dozen lanterns were hoisted down and placed around the platform by nightfall. They could hear voices louder now, and it made them work all the harder.

The breakthrough came just as the morning sky lit up. They helped the older ones up first to the platform and hauled on the rope to be pulled up before being raised to ground level and the wind from the sea.

Hugh barely made it out of the company car and into his house. He didn’t wait to wash but collapsed on the floor and slept.

Chapter Two

Kay woke him the next morning. “There are two strangers at the door asking for you. What do you want me to tell them?”

Hugh rubbed his eyes and turned over. Kay had covered him with the comforter from their bed. “I can’t leave them standing there. They asked to see you. What do you want me to tell them?

She helped him get to his feet and stagger to their bathroom. His breath smelled terrible and made him wash his face and rinse his mouth. He rubbed a two-day beard growth and decided it would have to wait as he staggered to the door.

Hugh shook his head. “I’m Hugh McGill. What can I do for…” His face suddenly came into focus. “It’s you, Konrad,” he shouted as the man’s face came into view. He reached out and grabbed Konrad’s arms. “Come in.”

He led Konrad and the woman with him into their front room and yelled out for Kay. She entered and scanned the faces of the strangers. “This is my wife, Kay, Konrad.” He turned to his wife. “This is Konrad, the German soldier I’ve talked to you about.”

“And this is my wife, Grete. We got married last month, and I sent you a letter a couple of weeks ago.”

“It hasn’t come yet. But sit down.” He turned to Kay. “Make us some coffee and some of the cake we had last night.” Then he realized that he had lost a day along with sudden flashes of being at the mine and shovelling as though his life depended on it. His father had been trapped in the mine, and they had been able to rescue them.

“And bring in the bottle of Brandy while you’re at it. This is a day to celebrate.” He turned to Konrad. “Forgive me. There was a cave-in at No. 3 shaft. My father was trapped underground, and I spent 24 hours digging

him and the other miners out.”

“He’s been out for 24 hours and only woke when I answered the door,” said Kay, placing down the chocolate cake with boiled frosting and four plates. She put them on an end table between them and returned for the bottle of Brandy, the coffee and cups.

The floor linoleum looked unwashed and shabby. Hugh sat next to Konrad, who kissed his wife while Kay poured the coffee and added a double shot of Brandy. “Your wife is very beautiful, Konrad. I somehow had the impression you were a confirmed bachelor.”

“I was, but I suddenly found a stranger in the home I grew up in. I moved out and met Grete while having supper at a nearby café. Grete brought me a cup of coffee and asked for my order. I fell in love with her as soon as I heard her voice and saw her. I asked her if she was married. She shook her head and asked for my order again. I asked her to marry me on the spot. Her priest made us wait three weeks before we married.”

Grete was blushing. She spoke only a little English and rose to help Kay slice the cake and serve Hugh and Konrad. Grete pushed back her light brown hair and smiled at them. She had a round face with bright blue eyes and spoke softly.

“When I told her I had a friend in Canada and wanted to have our honeymoon there, we found a ship which took us to Halifax. From there, we came by bus to your beautiful home.” He looked at the sofa where Kay was sitting with Hugh and the painting of a large sailing ship above their heads. He spotted a face peering at them from the kitchen corner. “And who is this beautiful lady? Let me guess. It’s Ingrid. No. Then let me guess one more time. Peggy.”

Kay rose and brought her to sit between them.

“Your father mentioned you to me many times,” said Konrad.

“You mentioned that you were learning English,” said Hugh.

Konrad nodded. “I want to talk the same way you do.”

“You do just fine, Konrad.”

Kay rose, refilled their cups with coffee and Brandy, and added a second slice of the cake to their plates.

“Where are you staying?”

“At your local inn.”

“Then, when you leave, you will get your things and spend the rest of your visit with us. I insist on it. There are so many things I want to talk to you about.”

“About the war?”

Hugh nodded. “Have you given any thought about immigrating here?

There are jobs at the mine, in case you’re interested. Join me tomorrow and see what you think.”

“If there are jobs, I want to come here for good and work here. Germany has changed since the war, and even my parents are different. When I told Grete about you and Canada, she thought it would be best if we started our new lives together in a new land where people have a different view of life.”

“It’s not paradise, but at least you are not bound by preconceived ideas.”

They left after lunch.

“What do you think of them?”

“They’re a good couple,” said Kay. “Grete doesn’t say much, but her feet are planted firmly on the ground. They will do fine.”

Hugh took a bath and washed his hair and body repeatedly before shaving and putting on a freshly washed shirt and trousers. Kay held him from behind and rubbed her nose against his back.

Konrad came alone to invite them to a special dinner at the inn. “Grete told me to make sure Peggy came, too.”

Kay kept them waiting while she changed into a dress, and Hugh changed into a white shirt and a suit jacket. Outside, they boarded a taxi at the door.

Grete was waiting for them at the entrance to the inn and took Peggy’s hand and led them into the inn’s dining room. They sat at a large table with five place settings, with Peggy sitting between Grete and Kay.

They all ordered lobster, the inn’s special seafood chowder, and homemade buns. Hugh helped them break out their lobsters while they toasted each other to the future together with Brandy.

Konrad and Hugh swapped stories of camp life during their time in the army. They toasted “fallen comrades” and ordered pie and coffee to end the evening when they finished.

They returned home in silence. Peggy, who had fallen asleep on Kay’s lap, was carried into the house and put to bed while Hugh escorted Konrad and Grete inside and into the spare bedroom. He left them to unpack and invited them to join him in the front room for tea.

“You and I will go to the mine together in the morning. I start at six o’clock, so you might want to shave tonight,” he said to Konrad, who was nodding throughout it all.

“How should I dress?”

“In your old work clothes. Let Hamish Campbell know you’re ready to start work immediately. A bit of advice. He hates Huns, and his brother

died in one of the big battles. Blown to bits by one of your army’s big shells, he takes it out on every Hun he sees. My advice is to tell him you come from Belgium.”

“What about other people?”

“The war’s pretty well over for most people.”

“I’ve got a recruit for you, Hamish.”

“Had any experience?” said Hamish Campbell.

“In the coal mines of the Ruhr.”

“Where are you from?”

“Belgium.”

“What’s your name?”

“Konrad Aberbach.”

“Sounds like a Hun name to me,” said Hamish, looking at Hugh.

“I fought with Konrad during the final stages of the war and invited him to work here with us.” Then after a pause, “how is your father?”

“Called him this morning. He seems okay.”

He turned back to Konrad. “You can work with McGill for the time being so that I can see if you’re as good as you think you are. Payday’s on Friday.”

Konrad smiled as they were lowered down the shaft. “A bit of advice. Don’t pick a fight with him. You won’t live to tell the tale if you do. No matter what he says to you.”

They bent down in the mine as they approached the seam Hugh was working. Konrad showed him a new way to loosen the seam and increase their output. By the time the whistle blew to end the day, their production had almost doubled. They went to the platform to be hauled up and laughed when they saw each other’s faces.

After supper, when Kay and Grete were cleaning up, Konrad cocked his head. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you pay the company to rent your house?”

“Last month, they raised it to five dollars a month. During the war, it was four.”

Konrad lowered his voice. “I have a bit of money set aside. How about you?”

“Not much. Been saving ever since Kay and I got married.”

“You must have one hell of a seam,” said Hamish Campbell when they picked up their wages for the month. “You live a charmed life.” He turned to Konrad: “I know you’re a Hun but one hell of one. If there are any more like you, send them to us.”

Konrad nodded and winked at Hugh. “I just showed him how we mined seams in the Ruhr.” Then, after a pause,” does this mean I’m hired?”

“You’d better believe it, even if you are a Hun. How do you feel about showing the other lads how you do it?”He turned to Hugh. “That said, I must tell you that we don’t have a spare home at the moment for your friend. Is there any way you could accommodate him until we do?”

Hugh looked at Konrad, who was nodding. “What about it, Konrad?”

“It suits Grete and me, but your good wife may have a different view.”

“She loves Grete, and they get along even better than she does with her sisters. We’ll ask her at supper.”

Some other miners came to watch how they worked their site a few days later but could not quite grasp the difference. It became to be called Hun Witchcraft among them. Konrad just laughed and bought a beer for anyone who returned his smile at the in’s pub.

Grete and Kay brought their meals to the table and sat with them. Kay could sense something in the wind and kept glancing at Hugh. Their daughter, now five and looking more and more like her mother, had outgrown her high chair and sat down with them.

She looked at Grete. “I think these two have something they want to tell us. So what is it?”

“Hamish Campbell told us today that Konrad has been tired as a fulltime miner. But he also told us he does not have a vacant home for Konrad and Grete and asked whether they could stay with us until one of the houses becomes vacant.” He looked at her face, “what about it, Kay?”

“For and long as they want. Grete is like another sister to me. Except that she doesn’t fight with me. And she shows me how to make strudel which we will have one night as a surprise. That and some other dishes.”

“So it’s agreed. Except for the price,” said Konrad.

“What if Grete and I buy all the groceries, and you handle the rent.”

They looked at each other and nodded. “Break out the Brandy, Kay.

Grete and Kay went into town to look for wallpaper and paint for the spare room the following day. Grete looked at almost every roll in the store and looked at Kay before finding one they both liked. It featured Dutch windmills, green fields, blue skies, and light blue paint to trim the baseboards and window frame. The window, like Kay’s, looked out onto a small garden Hugh was planting and, beyond that, another company

house with a bright yellow fence between properties.

They stopped at a tea shop for cake and tea on the way back. Kay’s daughter wanted tea but settled for milk when she tasted the tea.

“Tonight,” said Grete, “I will show you how to make strudel.”

“And I shall how you to make an Irish stew.’

It was just three o’clock when they returned, and Grete couldn’t wait to unfurl one of the rolls of the wallpaper.”

“It will brighten the room in a way it never was. All of our friends will be envious and copy it right down to the paint,” said Kay.

“I’m worried that Konrad does not like it.”

“If he does, he’ll get an earful from me.”

“They went downstairs and started on making supper. Grete looked around the kitchen. It was good with an iron stove, a warming tank on the right side, and a warming oven above. She added some coal to the fire to warm up the oven and the warming oven above. Kay was peeling potatoes, carrots, and turnips over the sink, cutting them into small chunks, and adding pieces of beef to the mixture. Kay’s daughter, Peggy, kept following them around and tried to copy what each of them was doing.

Konrad and Hugh were late coming home. Kate looked at the clock just turning five. “They won’t back be back here until seven at the earliest. They’ll stop at the pub for a glass or two.”

At almost eight, they opened the door softly and whispered as they entered. Hugh felt along the wall for the light switch.

“You’re late,” said Kay in an authoritative voice. “We’ve been cooking a special meal for you, and you come late, spending your money drinking and on some floosie.”

“We just had a beer or two at the pub to put money into your open hands.”

They sat down as Kay ladled stew into their bowls, and Grete filled their glasses with water. Hugh and Konrad ate without stopping and nodded for another ladle. Grete entered with strudel with whipped cream over the top while Kay poured them coffee by the time they finished.

“We have another surprise,” said Grete. “Upstairs.”

They led them up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Grete unrolled one of the wallpaper rolls, held it against the wall, and looked at Konrad and Hugh, who took in the scene with broad smiles.

“I think we should also give our bedroom a fresh look,” said Hugh.

The next morning, Hugh’s mother dropped the phone as she tried to call him. She found his father lying on his back with his mouth open and could not rouse him.

Kay looked at Konrad. There were tears in his eyes. “There is always a price for everything.”

Chapter Three

Grete told Kay first over morning coffee. “I’m going to have a baby.”

“How long have you known?” said Kay rising to add more milk to Grete’s coffee.

“Three weeks ago.”

“I plan to tell Konrad at supper. Before then, can you help me find a doctor?”

“Our doctor, Dr. Thomas, can help you. He delivered Peggy, and he was marvellous. He’s in his sixties but up on the latest procedures.” The kitchen light washed over her face, making her look at peace with the world. Grete nodded, and Kay went to the phone and called Dr. Thomas.

“It’s me, Kay McGill, Dr. Thomas. I have a lady who is staying with us and who is pregnant. Would you have time for us today?”

They left an hour later along with Peggy. Grete was on pins and needles. She wished her mother was with her. She would know what to do and make everything seem all right.

“If you’re wondering what he will do, put your mind at rest. I will be with you every step of the process and tell you what to expect. You will love Dr. Thomas. Once you are his patient, you become very important to him, including visiting you in the middle of the night should he be needed. There aren’t many more like him.”

They reached his office about 30 minutes later and were ushered into his waiting room. Erma, the doctor’s wife, sat Grete in the most comfortable chair in the room and talked to Peggy until the patient, an older man in his 80s, emerged from his office, picked up his coat and cane, and left without a word.

“You’re next, Crete,” said Erma.

“I would like Kay to be with me.”

“That’s fine. I will entertain Peggy while you see Duncan.” She bent down and found a sucker and passed it to Peggy. “Do you start school this year, Peggy?”

Peggy shook her head.

Dr. Thomas’s office was larger than Crete expected. The folders on his desk were at least 18 inches high, and the scent of chemicals hovered in the air. A skeleton in the corner grinned back at her, and she shivered. Two large windows opposite his examination bed flooded the room with bright sunshine and opened to a garden with many colours. Bees were going from one flower to another, and all seemed right with the world.

Dr. Thomas laid her on the table and placed his stethoscope over different parts of her stomach. This went on for five minutes before he stood up and nodded with a smile. “I could be wrong, but I heard the faint sound of two hearts beating. My guess is that you’re going to give birth to a set of twins.”

“What should I do, doctor?”

“Don’t do any heavy lifting, go for walks, take some vitamins and a couple of medications. I’ll give you a script so that you can get the meds from the drug store. Just remember, no heavy lifting.” He looked at Kay. “Make sure she takes the meds and doesn’t exert herself. I will see her again in a month.”

Grete waited until they had finished supper and had coffee in the front room when she made her announcement. Konrad put his arms around her. “You must see a doctor tomorrow,” he said in an authoritative tone.

“She already has,” said Kay. “We went to consult with Dr. Thomas the morning, who delivered Peggy almost five years ago. You tell him the rest, Grete.”

“He thinks we may have twins.”

“I hope they will be boys,” said Konrad.

“I will settle for both of them born healthy and strong. No matter whether they’re daughters or sons,” said Grete.

“We must write our families back home and tell them the good news.,” added Konrad.

Kay put her arms around her. “They will be.”

“I am still worried. My younger sister was born with a fever and died after a few months. I pray this not happen to our kinder,” she said to Konrad.

“Best to ask Dr. Thomas. He is very wise and will put your mind to

rest,” said Kay.

The next morning, Kay called Dr. Thomas. “We need your advice. Grete is worried that her twins may die from a fever, the same way her younger sister died with a fever.”

“Highly unlikely. And besides, we now have a few new drugs that were unavailable when her younger sister died if her twins did come down with a fever. These things are not usually passed down from generation to generation like diabetes.”

Kay smiled as she hung up the phone. “Dr. Thomas believes it is highly unlikely and that you should not worry about it.”

Grete smiled, but the worried look on her face did not change.

“To be on the safe side, it may be better if you stay away from stores and other places where you might pick up a cold.”

***

Christmas that year was one they would always remember. Hugh and Konrad came home with extra money in their pay envelopes and bought German wine and a large bottle of Brandy to celebrate.

“We’ll save it for Christmas and New Year’s,” said Kay as he put a mincemeat pie and a fruit cake into the oven. She went into the back porch to take down two chickens hanging from a hook. The porch was ice cold, and the windows were covered with frost from the inside. She could see her breath as she tightened the collar of her jacket.

Kay returned and held her hands over the covers of their old wood stove for a few minutes. She still had presents to wrap in red and white tissue paper. Grete’s stomach was showing as she wrapped her presents with nimble hands. She was humming an old German Carole and hoped the twins were rejoicing with her. Kay left her to check on the pie and cake and prepare the chickens for the oven.

Hugh had bought some Christmas chocolates, candy canes and barley toys for Peggy’s stocking. Konrad put the candy canes on the tree in the front room and added more tinsel.

Later, when they went to bed, Kay nudged Hugh.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Grete. I’m worried about her, and I think she needs her mother around her. She doesn’t say much, but I can see redness around her eyes as though she had been crying. I’m not sure what to say to her.”

Hugh turned over on his side. “Ask your mother to come and stay for a few days with us. She can sleep with Peggy.”

Kay smiled and decided to ask her mother to stay with them over the

In the morning, she called her mother, who lived on the other side of Glace Bay. “Mum, I need you to come and spend the holidays with us. My friend, Gerte, the lady staying with us, needs someone your age to be with her. You have something special about you that she needs now. Can you come?”

“I’ll ask Grant McIntosh. He has his sleigh out now and will see if he can take me this afternoon.”

Kay smiled. McIntosh lived next to them for as long as she could remember, and she went to school with his son. She went upstairs and prepared the cot for her mother, who loved to be with Peggy. “You love your grandchildren more than your own,” she observed on a previous visit.

Kay didn’t tell Grete about her mother coming and hoped it would be a great surprise for her. Her mother arrived just after lunch. McIntosh helped her down from the sleigh, grabbed her bag and brought it in with him.

“Mother, what a wonderful surprise. Come in, Mr. McIntosh. I’ve just put the tea on, and I have a plate of scones still warm and buttered. Sit you down at the table,” said Kay, filling their mugs with tea and placing the scones in front of them. She turned to Grete, “you remember my mother who visited us two months ago. She came and stayed with me for a full month before Peggy was born.”

Grete nodded and tried to smile. Her eyes had a faraway look, and she looked as though she was ready to break into tears.

“I’ve come to spend the Christmas season with you. It’s lonely since your father died,” she said to Hugh.

McIntosh left a half-hour later, and Kay’s mother sat down next to Grete. “I see you are expecting. I remember when I was pregnant with Kay, and I was all pins and needles, just as your mother was when she was waiting to give birth to you. We all were.” She put her arms around Grete, who started to cry and began to rock her and wipe her eyes.

Grete held her close. Her mother kissed Grete’s forehead. “How many months to go?”

“Two months,” said Grete between tears.

Kay nodded to her mother. “I will be here with you until you give birth. Now go upstairs, wipe your eyes and come back with a smile on your face.

Grete taught them to say Merry Christmas in German on Christmas Eve and sang another German Christmas Carol. Konrad saw a change in Grete’s face and looked at Kay and her mother, who smiled back at him.

“Kay’s mother will be staying with us until the twins are born,” said Grete.

“Twins,” shouted Kay’s mother. “This calls for a celebration.”

“If they are girls,” said Grete, “we will name one of them after you.” She started singing Es ist ein rosen sprugen and Stille Nacht. I hope you don’t mind. It’s the first time I am away from home at Christmas.”

“We have the same carols but in English,” said Kay.

Her mother put her arm around Grete. “What can we do to create one of your Christmases?”

“No, it is better for my twins to get used to Canadian ways and customs. After all, they will be Canadians when they are born. So I would like us to spend a real Canadian Christmas.”

In the morning, Kate also hung out a stocking for Grete, who joined Peggy in seeing what their stockings contained with squeals and laughter as they donned their tissue paper hats. “I could get used to this custom,” said Grete with a broad smile and laughter in her eyes.

The real change came on New Year’s Eve when they kissed each other at midnight and raised their glasses for good health and happier times in the coming year.

January was particularly cold that year and Kay’s mother suggested she not go out until the roads were bare. “We don’t want you to fall and hurt you or your baby. There will be other days.”

“The snow. We had snow in Germany, too, but not like this. Is it like this every year?”

“Some years are better than others,” said Kay.

Konrad and Hugh built a large snowman in front of the house. They put one of Hugh’s old hats on it and used bits of coal for the snowman’s face. Grete wanted to go out and walk in the snow and went with Kay’s mother, who held onto her and guided her step.

In February, Grete was nearing her time. “What if the baby comes and it is snowing so hard that I cannot go to the hospital?”

“We’ll find a way,” Kay’s mother kept reminding her.

It snowed all night and continued to snow all day when Mildred, Kay’s mother, decided Grete needed to be taken to the hospital. Grete was screaming in pain and doubled over in her bed. Kay’s mother called Mr. McIntosh to come to their rescue.

Dressed in a large wollen coat and cap on his head, McIntosh arrived about 30 minutes later. Snow clung to his white beard and eyebrows, and his blue eyes sparkled.

Kay and her mother had already bundled up Grete, slipped on their

winter boots and coats, and helped Grete outside and onto McIntosh’s sleigh. The snow bit into their faces as the sleigh sped down the road with no other carts or sleighs on the street. When they reached the hospital, they helped her inside, where a nurse met them and helped undress and place Grete into a wheelchair.

Dr. Thomas appeared a few minutes later and went straight to the maternity ward. Kay and her mother waited until he reappeared. He saw them standing at reception and walked with his head down to them.

“I just came out to tell your mother she is welcome to join me when the baby arrives. She keeps calling ‘Mutter,’ the German word for mother, and I think she mistakes you for her.”

Kay’s mother, Mildred, followed him inside the operation room and stood by Grete’s bed. She took Grete’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be here by your side until you deliver the twins.”

Grete closed her eyes and smiled as a nurse put a mask on her face and added a few drops of ether.

The twins arrived an hour later, screaming from the moment they were spanked. Grete woke up slowly from the anesthesia, and she looked at Mildred, who nodded to her.

“They’ll bring them to you to see for yourself. “Did either of them have a fever?”

Mildred shook her head. “They’re crying their hearts out and squealing like newborn pigs. You’ll see them yourself,” she added, pointing to two nurses who entered with each infant. They put them beside Grete’s head. She turned to look at her new son on the left and her other new son on the right. Grete smiled, looked at Kay’s mother and drifted off to sleep.

Konrad removed his mask from his mouth and shouted, “we need to get out of here now. I smell Black Dump.”

They had just loosened a wide seam, and Hugh was scooping it out. Konrad pulled his arm. “We need to go now.”

A minute later, they were coughing in the shaft and trying to hide their mouths from the air. They went to the lift and pulled on the chain. Konrad pulled his jacket around his face and motioned for Hugh to do the same. It helped them make the upper air, sitting on the lift floor, breathing hard.

“We need a few gas masks, and we need to go down and warn the others before it’s too late.”

The lift operator found them gas masks and ran to check the ventilator

for the shaft. It had stopped, and he yelled to nearby miners to help them. They got it to start, but it stopped again. Someone had deliberately cut the wires leading to the motor.

“You guys make it work by hand while I go down to get the other miners out before it’s too late,” said the lift operator.

He ran back to the elevator and lowered it to the shaft floor, with Konrad and Hugh holding a dozen or more gas masks. They reached the bottom a few minutes later and jumped from the platform. They could hear the other miners coughing as they neared them. Konrad passed a gas mask to Hugh, fitted them on the first two, and helped them to the lift. They raced to the next two miners and repeated the process until they had run out of gas masks. From then on, they gave the last two miners their masks and hurried them to the lift.

Chapter Four

Hugh breathed in the upper air and helped pound Konrad’s back until he was breathing again. Hamish Campbell was there to direct the others to a nearby bus to take them to the hospital. He looked at Konrad and Hugh, still breathing hard, and shook their hands. “The lift operator told me what you did for the others, and the general manager or I will not soon forget that. The general manager has asked me to drive you to the hospital. Here, let me help you,” he said to Konrad.

Dr. Thomas spotted Hugh and Konrad as soon as they entered. He had just finished flushing out the lungs of one of the miners with a saltwater solution to collect cells and other materials. “Four of your friends were dead by the time they arrived at the hospital. I’m sorry I wasn’t at the mine. I feel I could have saved them.” He turned away, his face sad with anger burning in his eyes.

Konrad and Hugh were the last to be treated. “I want x-rays of your lungs first.” He led them to the x-ray room and waited until the technician developed a negative for him to see. Hugh and Konrad waited outside the x-ray room but could hear Dr. Thomas raise his voice several times. He emerged from the x-ray room, shaking his head. “I’m afraid you both need

to redo your x-rays.”

He emerged from the x-ray room a few minutes later with a smile. “Both your lungs are clear. But I would like to see you again tomorrow. How are you both feeling?”

“Tired,” they both said at once.

“I want you to stay and have a sleep before you’re discharged, and I’m prescribing that for a few of your friends as well.”

He had a nurse escort them to one of the rooms. The sun was streaming into the room from the window overlooking the grounds in front of the hospital.

“Strip and wash before putting on our gowns and get back to bed. I’ll come back in a few minutes to examine you before you nod off. I’m also putting you on oxygen,” she said, adding a tube to their nostrils.

Konrad was already sleeping when she listened to his heart and turned to Hugh. “Your friend appears to be in worse shape than you,” she said after listening to his heart. “But you both need to rest and get your systems back working normally.”

***

The snow had stopped, and the plows were out. When Kay heard the news that Hugh and Konrad were in the hospital, she didn’t quite know what to tell Grete. She would ask Dr. Thomas.

“There’s been an accident at the mine, and Hugh and Konrad are in the hospital,” she said to her mother. Mildred shook her head. Her eyes had tears as she remembered when her father died in a mine disaster when she was a child and how her mother cried for days. “We must go to him.”

There was a knock at the door, and Kay rose and opened it. “Mrs. McGill,” said Hamish Campbell, shaking the snow off his peaked hat. “I’ve come to tell you that your husband is in hospital along with his friend, Aberbach. They’re recovering from gasses in shaft No. 3.”

“Come in, Mr. Campbell. How about a cup of tea?”

“It would be welcome, Mrs. McGill,” he said, taking the mug from her hands. “I’ve come here to tell you what happened and how your husband and his friend, Konrad, saved the lives of several other miners.” He paused, “it was caused when someone put the ventilator out of commission. The power line to the engine that runs the ventilator had been deliberately cut.” Another pause, “is there any way I could be of service?”

“Could you take my mother and me to the hospital?”

“As soon as you’re ready.”

They were on the road five minutes later, past banks high with plowed snow and people out clearing snow from their sidewalks. They passed a number of cars sliding and swerving in front of them. Peggy, wrapped in her new Christmas coat, snuggled up against her mother.

“I had chains put on the wheels a week ago,” said Campbell. “They’re perfect in this kind of weather.”

The parking area at the hospital had just been plowed, and Campbell let them off at the front entrance. “Let me know if you need me to drive you back. I’ll be at the office, and you can call me there.”

A nurse led them down the corridor to the room where Hugh and Konrad were located. Kay opened the door to see that they were both sleeping, and she and her mother sat beside Hugh’s bed. One of his hands was outside the cover, and Kay held it in her hands. He breathed hard and began to thrash, and she held him steady. He opened his eyes to see her standing over him.

“Where am I?”

“At the hospital along with Konrad and several other miners. It seems you and Konrad are heroes. You discovered a black gas just in time and helped save the others. You won’t believe this, but Hamish Campell dropped by and drove us to the hospital. It’s snowing like nobody’s business. You’re lucky to be inside.”

There was a faint knock on the door, and Dr. Thomas entered. “I see you’re in good hands. I’ve got good news for you. Your chest x-ray showed no signs of anything in your chest. And if I’m right, you’re free to go home.”

“What about Konrad?”

“Not so good. There are indications that his lungs have dark spots. I will be doing a lavage on him tomorrow. So I’ll be doing a bronchoscopy on him to wash out any bad or diseased cells,” then, after a smile, “does he know he’s the proud father of twins yet and that his wife is only a few doors down from him?”

“I’ll let him know in the morning.”

Peggy kissed him on the forehead, and Mildred squeezed his hand. “I’ll pop by Grete’s room to see how he’s getting along.”

Grete was sitting up and trying to feed her sons.

Kay sat down beside her. “I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid, Grete. Both our husbands are in the hospital. It seems someone cut the power to the ventilator for shaft No. 3, and they are being treated for the gases they inhaled. It appears Konrad and Hugh alerted the others and got them to safety.”

“When can I see, Konrad?”

“In a day or two. I’ll keep tabs on them both and let you know how they’re recovering.” ***

An orderly wheeled Konrad into the operation room. Dr. Thomas was already masked and waited for the nurse to put Konrad under. Dr. Thomas then pushed a tube down his throat to get samples before flushing out his lugs with salt water. Konrad was gasping and coughing at the same time. Dr. Thomas took the samples with the flush and examined them before Konrad recovered.

Konrad grabbed his throat. “My throat feels very sore. What did you do?”

“We went inside your body to flush out any toxins. There were a few, but now you’ll be your old self in a day or two.” He glanced at the nurse, who helped him into a wheelchair. An orderly appeared to wheel him down the corridor and into Grete’s room.

“I can’t believe it,” he said and rubbed his throat. He wanted to rise, but his orderly held him down. A nurse entered with his two sons and placed them on his lap. “Are they sons or daughters?”

“Sons. Fine healthy sons who like to eat,” said Grete. He looked at each of them carefully. “They look exactly alike.”

He sang as they wheeled him back to his room. They stopped him in front of Hugh’s bed. “You’re looking at the father of two healthy boys.”

“Congratulations, Konrad. I know you will be a wonderful father.” Hugh reached out and shook his hand. Konrad spent the rest of the day sleeping and talking about his boys.

Dr. Thomas arrived with a pencil on his right ear. “I’m here to sign you and your good wife and boys out this morning.”

***

Hamish Campbell called them to his office. ”The general manager wants to talk to you after your shift today. Make sure you clean your faces and hands before you meet him.”

“What do you think it’s all about?”

“He didn’t tell me. Just don’t keep him waiting. He’s fussy about time.”

They went down to their level and went to work immediately. Konrad had lost none of his skill in loosening large seams and kept fending off Hugh, who kept asking, “what do you think he wants to see us?”

“To give us 10,000 dollars for saving our comrades.”

“No, really, Konrad?”

“I don’t know, Hugh.”

The word had got around the other miners, who were also laying bets on why the general manager wanted to see them.

They found out when they sat in front of the general manager, Angus Stoffer. He was dressed in a black suit with large lapels, a black tie, and a crisp white shirt. He wore long sandy-coloured sideburns and had a thin face and faded blue eyes with his hair artfully combed over his forehead to hide a fading hairline.

“BOSCO owes you both great gratitude for your heroic acts. You rescued a number of miners from certain death.”

“Did you ever discover who cut the power line to the ventilator shaft?” said Konrad.

“The RCMP believes they have the identity of the person and are gathering information that will put him in prison. We fired this individual for trying to rob us, and that’s all I can say now. But getting back to the reason I asked to see you was to tell you that the company is indebted to you. And, as such, we would like to give you and your wives a two-week holiday in Montreal, where you can meet our president.”

Stoffer looked at them and waited for an answer.

“We didn’t do this for anything, Mr. Stotter,” said Konrad. “We did it because the others were our fellow miners.”

“That speaks highly of you, gentlemen. But our offer still stands.”

“What did he say after that?” said Grete when they arrived home. He just smiled and wished us a good evening.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I would love to go to Montreal,” said Kay.

Kay’s mother, Mildred, who decided to stay on for a few more weeks to help Grete with the boys, asked if there was a time limit. “You never know what may happen tomorrow.”

“He didn’t say so,” said Hugh. ***

The winter months went by slowly. Hugh and Konrad were bugged for a few weeks about the general manager, but it also faded when Spring arrived, and Grete began to put the twins out on the front veranda during sunny afternoons.

“How can you tell them apart?” said Kay.

“Reinhart cries more and wants more attention, while Karl likes to smile when he sees my face. Konrad likes to throw them up in the air. Re-

inhart smiles and giggles, and Karl begins to cry.”

“But they look so much alike,” said Kay. “How will you tell them apart when they become boys and men?”

She didn’t get an answer as Grete bent down and kissed their faces.

Kay’s mother had a different idea. “When Reinhart becomes a young man, he will not be easy to manage. I have seen babies like this before.”

During the next two years, the difference in them became more noticeable. Grete began to talk to them in German before they started school. Reinhart could speak German without an accent, but Karl seemed to stumble with many words and usually ended his response in English.

When Grete talked about it with Dr. Thomas, he shrugged and smiled. “I wouldn’t pay too much attention to it. If anything, it might suggest that Karl is very sensitive. Unusual in a boy of his age. He may turn out to become a great artist.”

Konrad just brushed off her concerns. “He has to fight his own battles. If Rhinehart takes one of his toys, he has to learn to take it back on his own. In this life, you have to stand up for yourself.”

Still, it bothered her. On their third birthday, Rhinehart ate his cake and took Karl’s piece away from him. The best Grete could do was give a second bigger slice to Karl. “You must look after your brother, Rhinehart, and make sure no one takes anything from him. That includes you,” she said in German.

Spring came early that year. The dandelions appeared on the front grass a month earlier, and there were rumblings of malcontent among many of the miners. Konrad and Hugh ignored it and kept to themselves as things worsened.

Kay’s mother came on Sundays when they had their biggest meal of the week, often with a special cake. Mr. McIntosh, whose wife had died the year before, often came with her and always had a small bottle of Whiskey for their coffee.

All things seemed right in the world. There was news from Germany, not good news, with reports of runaway inflation, with a loaf of bread costing hundreds of Marks, and riots in the streets.

“It’s good that we’re in a country where we can still afford to eat and keep ourselves warm during cold winter nights.”

Grete worried about her mother, who was alone now. Grete had written to her to come and stay with them. But she never got a reply.

Chapter Five

Their golden days came to an end a month later when Hugh and Konrad were visited by six of their fellow miners on a Saturday evening.

Ethan Ferguson, now in his 60s and suffering from arthritis in his shoulders and arms, remained standing as the others sat down on the kitchen chairs. “We’ve come to talk to you and Konrad. I won’t beat about the bush. We’re forming a union and want to know where you stand.” He took a cup of coffee from Kay and sat down.

“We haven’t given it much thought, Ethan,” said Hugh. Konrad stirred. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’re being left behind. Very few of us, including yourselves, have very little left over after paying our monthly rent and food for the table and books for our school children, while the shareholders of BOSCO rake in thousands of dollars every year on our sweat and the constant possibility of cave-ins and the like. Half of your fellow miners have already signed up, and we’re signing up more every week.”

“Are you with us or not,” Sandy Dewar shouted.

“And no humming or hawing. Yes or no,” added Finlay Boyd. Konrad was nodding. “Supposing we all sign up, and we ask management for an increase, and management says no, what happens then?”

“Then we strike. They need us as much as we need them,” said Ethan. “And that’s not all. If we go on strike, the steel mill and its works will also need to shut down.”

Hugh looked at Konrad. “We need to talk about it with our families. They’ll also be involved and need a vote, too.”

“Then you’re not with us,” said Dewar.

“We’re not saying this, Sandy. Give us time to talk to our women. And when we have an answer, Ethan will be the first to know.”

When they left, Hugh gathered Kay and Grete around them, along with Mildred, Kay’s mother. “What is it to be, ladies?”

“If we go on strike, we will have no money for food,” said Grete. Kay and her mother nodded and turned to their husbands.

“If we refuse, who knows what the others may do to us, especially after the strike is over,” said Hugh. “Think about that as well.”

At the end of the evening, they decided to side with the other miners. Hugh had misgivings but agreed after Konrad noted: “I have been in strikes before, and they can turn quite ugly and violent if the strikers turn on the others.”

In the morning, Hugh sought out Ethan and shook his hand. “We’re in.”

Ethan smiled, and the news went around the shaft in seconds.

“What happens now, Ethan?”

“We will hold a secret vote on forming the union first. Next week, we’ll hold the vote and then create a committee to draw up a list of demands we’ll take to management. You or Konrad can be part of that group if you wish.”

There was a surprise message in their pay envelopes on payday:

“We understand you are holding a secret vote on whether to form a union in the next few days. You should be aware that it is unlawful and not be recognized by law. And, as such, we are not obliged to hear any demands you may make. You should also know that the men behind this illegal union will be terminated.”

Hugh looked at Konrad. “You been through a strike. What’s it’s like?”

“Tough from start to finish.”

“Hogwash,” said Ethan later. “If they think they can just cut our wages and get away with it, they’ll sing a different tune with no coal coming out of their mine-made steel mill, and their customers look elsewhere.” ***

There were only a few holdouts against forming a union. “It’s a landslide,” said Ethan. His eyes were dancing, and the other miners were clapping him on the back as they gathered in the yard facing the general manager’s office.

Miners from other shafts joined them a few minutes later, unsure what to do. They talked among themselves and made their way to Ethan. A halfhour later, the crowd covered the paved area and turned their faces to the office. The company’s guards entered the crowd and asked them to leave quietly if they did not want to get into trouble with the law.

An hour later, the sounds of sirens racing towards them gave a few of

them some second thoughts. Six police cars entered the yard. One of the officers, standing in front of the cars, raised a horn and shouted: “Disperse immediately or face criminal trespass charges.”

“We are peaceful miners taking a short respite from our jobs in the mine. We are not doing anything that would require you to charge all of us with criminal trespass. So leave us in peace.”

The policeman with the horn consulted with the other officers before getting into his car and leading them back to town. A reporter from the local paper arrived and interviewed Ethan. The interview was carried in the newspaper that night, and Konrad, who had been reading it, couldn’t believe his eyes. “That would not happen in Germany,” he said, shaking his head.

Ethan’s committee drafted a list of demands two days later. They all knew what they wanted and had a new young lawyer in town to put them on paper. Their principal demand was getting their old rate back and a 10% increase. Ethan took their demands to the office and asked the young woman at the switchboard to make sure Mr. Stoffer saw it immediately.

The mines had been idle for more than a week when the local newspaper carried an interview with a picture of Stoffer. “Their so-called union is illegal, and the people who organized this will be sued for every cent they have. But the president of BOSCO reminds me that he understands your hardships and has offered to hear your demands in person should you wish to do so, providing you go back to work in the morning.”

Ethan was interviewed as well. “It’s a crude ploy to get us back into the deep holes where some of our comrades died a horrible death. I want all miners to join me at the company yard in the morning.”

An even larger crowd waited for Ethan to arrive. He stepped from Finlay Boyd’s car with Sandy Dewar and was immediately surrounded by scores of miners. Sandy had brought a trumpet to call the gathering to silence. He passed a horn to Ethan, who stood on two blocks purloined from the mine yard to stand on.

“First, gentleman, I see a reporter from the local paper is with us today with the latest news. Give him a warm welcome, and if he wants to chat with any of you, please accommodate him.” He waved to the reporter to join him. “Let him make the announcement.”

The reporter stood on the two blocks and cleared his throat. “The Nova Scotia government has just issued a bulletin saying that your refusal to work is illegal and that you must go back to work or face the consequences.”

“Wait until election time comes around, and we’ll see what we think

of them,” said a loud voice in the crowd. Everyone laughed. “Show them what we really think,” said another voice. “Let’s give them a boo they can hear as far away as Halifax.”

The crowd booed at the top of their lungs. They spotted a few faces suddenly appearing at the windows in the office building and raised their fists.

Ethan stepped up on the blocks again and waved for silence. “Yesterday, I delivered our list of demands to Mr. Stoffer, BOSCO’s general manager.”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd.

“I now want to hear you clap as loud as possible so that Mr. Stoffer knows we mean business and are ready to negotiate.”

Grete fretted about how they would eat. Konrad kept telling her that they had already put away 400 dollars and could wait out a strike for a long time. She still felt uneasy. “The boys are growing like weeds and need clothes every time I look.” Kay and her mother were also concerned. They knew what it was like with no money coming in and what it did to their family. Peggy was now in school, and Kay had to mend her skirts and cut Peggy’s hair for her. Hugh also had her cut his hair and Konrad’s as well.

Konrad and Hugh dug a garden in the backyard and planted enough potatoes to do them for the Winter and Spring. They also bought a dozen small chickens for meat and eggs and built a small pen. They walked to the shoreline during the fall and gathered bits of driftwood along the railway tracks for coal.

Peggy had outgrown her coat, and her grandmother made a new one. It was not in the latest fashion, but it was warm. Other students made fun of her, and she cried every night when she came home.

Ethan held another rally for them to block the shafts when the government brought in soldiers to go down into the mines. They stood their ground, even when the soldiers pointed their guns at them.

“Leave us in peace. As you can see, we are not destroying property, just trying to earn enough for our families to eat and keep warm in the winter.”

The soldiers paused and walked back to their trucks. They stayed an extra day before driving off. That night, Ethan wrote a long letter to the Prime Minister, asking him if it were proper to use soldiers to take food from other people. He had copies made and sent them to every official he could think of it.

Hugh was lighting his pipe when the call came. Kay answered it and passed it to him.

“It’s Finlay Boyd, Hugh. I’m at the hospital with Ethan. He was struck by a car as we were crossing the road. The driver didn’t stop even though he must have heard the bump when he drove over Ethan. I went into the house before the accident and called for an ambulance, and you and Sandy.” Finlay was breathing hard. It’s attempted murder. That’s what I call it. It’s plain they won’t stop at anything.”

Hugh called for a taxi, and he and Konrad headed for the hospital, stopping at reception to see Finlay wringing his hands. Sandy Dewar was with him and helped Finlay to a chair.

“Did you call the police?” said Konrad.

Finlay shook his head. “What will we do if he dies?”

“We will take over,” said Sandy.

Hugh and Konrad went to reception and asked to use their telephone. The woman behind the glass paused. She was middle-aged, with grey streaks in her hair, tired blue eyes, and unsure of herself.

“It’s to call the police. Someone ran over our friend. The ambulance brought him in a few minutes ago.”

She rose and opened the door for them.

“You call, Hugh.”

Hugh picked up the receiver and dialled the police. “My name is Hugh McGill. I am at the hospital. My friend was run over by a car deliberately and failed to stop. One of his friends was with him and can tell you all about it.”

Two policemen arrived ten minutes later and talked to the receptionist, who pointed them to them. Constable Graham introduced himself. “Which of you is Boyd?”

“I am, constable.”

“We understand you were with him when someone ran down your friend.”

Boyd, nervous at the best of times, nodded and suddenly felt unsure of himself.

“Tell us exactly what happened and what you saw.”

Boyd stuttered a bit as he began. “I had driven him to see one of our fellow miners who was having a hard time with the strike. Ethan got out of the car and was crossing the street when a car suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as though they were waiting for us, and ran Ethan down. Both

the front and rear wheels on the left-hand side of the street struck him down and drove over him.”

“Your friend,” said the other constable, “is he the Ethan Ferguson, who heads the miner’s union?”

The constable paused as he waited for Finlay to reply. He took out a book from his inside pocket and took notes.

Finlay nodded. “Ethan is that, and I should hate to feel that he gave his life in our fight for fair wages.”

“How is he at the moment?” said Constable Graham.

“Dr. Thomas is with him now. We’re waiting until we know before we let the others know.”

“What can you tell us about the car?” said Graham.

“It was hard to tell the colour of the car or licence plate in the darkness. But I did see two men in the car.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“One other thing,” said Finlay. “The back fender on the driver’s side was damaged.” He paused when he spotted Dr. Thomas walking toward them. “Here comes the doctor now. “

Dr. Thomas spotted the two police constables and lowered his head until he reached them. “How bad is he, doctor?” said Graham.

“Not good. His ribs have been crushed, and his lungs are compromised as well. It will be nip and tuck if we can save him.”

“How likely is he to die?” said Graham.

“The odds are not on his side.”

“Is there anything about his wounds that would suggest foul play?”

“I don’t want to comment on that now. That is for the coroner to decide.”

“We’ll be in touch,” said Graham, tipping his cap to them as he turned to leave.

“I think we must consider that our friend may not be with us,” said Sandy.

“In that case, I think you should take up the cause for Ethan,” said Hugh. The others nodded.

“I think we should call the newspaper,” said Finlay. “They can get the word out to everyone.”

“But no word to the reporter that the doc thinks his chances are not good.”

One of the reporters on the night shift answered the phone. “My name is Sandy Dewar. I am at the hospital and would like to report a serious accident. Our associate, Ethan Ferguson, was run over by a car a few hours

ago and is now in the operating room.”

“Is this the same Ethan Ferguson who heads the miners’ strike?”

“Yes.”

“Stay put. I’ll be there in a flash. “My name is Clifford McCall.”

McCall arrived 15 minutes later with a camera and a flash lamp. “Let me get your picture first,” said McCall, a tall young man in his early 20s with dark hair, dark eyes, and a thin face who ran his tongue over his lips when he talked.

He set up the powder in the flash lamp. “Now, I want you to stand under the light and lock arms.”

He waved them to a seat and sat opposite them. When they were in position, he ignited the powder and snapped the picture. “Now tell me exactly what happened?”

They had just finished when Dr. Thomas emerged. They could tell the news was not good. “I am very sorry, gentleman, that our good friend, Ethan, has died.” He hung his head.

“Clifford McCall from the paper. May I take your picture, doctor?”

“If you must.”

“Now hold still when I ignite the flash and snap your picture.”

“From from I hear from his friends, he was run over twice. Does that suggest murder to you?”

“That, as I told the police, is for the coroner to decide. I will have a full report for the coroner in his hands before noon. Now, gentlemen, I have a lot to attend to.”

Chapter Six

Hugh and Konrad decided to hide from the other reporters, who came as far away as Halifax the next day. Sandy and Finlay arrived to discuss what they should do the next day.

“I’d like to see everyone turn out for Ethan’s funeral; he deserves that at the very least,” said Sandy.

They nodded and sat silent for a minute or two. “I met with the coroner yesterday for a few minutes to tell him what I saw and how they struck down Ethan. He just nodded and didn’t offer a comment.”

The telephone rang, and Kay answered it. “It’s the police, Hugh, and he wants to talk to you.”

“Constable Graham, Mr. McGill. Been trying to reach your associates without success.”

“They’re with me now.”

“Tell them I would like to see the four of you at an inquest into the death of Ethan Ferguson tomorrow night. It will start at seven o’clock sharp. Be there.”

“One question before you go, constable. Have you notified the newspaper?”

Yes.”

“Good,” said Sandy. “They will get a good turnout. Let us call Ethan’s wife and determine when and where his funeral will be held. I’ll handle that.”

There was a faint knock on the door, and Kay opened it to find a copy of the newspaper. She held up the front page and pointed to the heading and the picture under it. The large title above it read MURDER? in capital letters. She laid it on the table so everyone could read it at the same time.

Below was a story about the inquest and a picture of Ethan at the rally

three days before.

“Will you thank that young reporter, Hugh? He seemed to take to you,” said Sandy.

Hugh called the paper, asked for McCall, and told him he was on the night shift.

“I’ll call him after supper and tell him we four are available for any information we have that he might need for his story.”

Kay and her mother had baked a cake and served it with hot mugs of tea. They were sitting in the front room, and Sandy and Finlay sat on the sofa and Konrad and Hugh on chairs from the kitchen. The large picture of Hugh’s grandfather above the couch seemed to smile upon them.

“Getting back to business,” said Sandy. “We should also get Mr. McCall to write a story about the funeral. We need to get out as many people as possible out for it. I’d like to see the number of mourners spill outside the church and the road in front of the church.”

On page two, Kay read a comment from Angus Stoffer about Ethan’s death, “expressing regret and assurances that none of BOSCO’s people were involved in his death. He also offered a reward of $1,000 for the capture and conviction of the man responsible for Ethan Ferguson’s death”.

Hugh spotted Clifford McCall outside the church hall where the inquest would be held and led him inside. It was the biggest space in town, and people came early to get a seat. By seven, the crowd stretched into the street, and the noise in the room made it almost impossible to hear.

The noise suddenly stopped as the coroner, Dr. Thomas, and three constables entered and marched to the stage at the front. They took their seats, and at precisely seven, the coroner stood and announced that the inquest into Ethan Ferguson’s death would formally begin.

There was a great cheer from the crowd. Dr. Thomas raised his hand for silence. “If there is another outburst, the hall will be cleared.” He turned with a slight bow to the jury chosen earlier, who sat on the other side of the stage. “I should like to call Finlay Boyd for questioning. “

Finlay got up. He wasn’t used to talking in public, and his hands shook. He walked up to the stage. He was sworn in, and Calvin rose to face him. “We understand you were with the deceased when he was struck by a car three days ago.”

Finlay nodded.

“Speak up, Mr. Boyd so that the jury can hear.”

“Yes,” he said in a strange voice. “We had just left my car and were walking across the street when a car suddenly came out of nowhere and struck him down.”

“Can you be a bit more precise, Mr. Boyd?”

“The car knocked him down. Both the front and back wheels on the driver’s side ran over his body.” He paused, “there were two men in the car. They had to feel they had run over something and see Ethan in their headlights before he was struck down.” Then, another pause, “then I went into the house across the street and called the hospital to send an ambulance.”

“Thank you, Mr. Boyd. You are excused. Dr. Thomas checked the paper he was holding. “Next, we’d like to hear from Sandy Dewer.”

Sandy climbed the stairs quickly and was sworn. He was wearing his new black church suit and stood before Dr. Thomas.

“When did you first learn of the event?”

“Finlay Boyd called me from the hospital along with Hugh McGill and Konrad Aberbach. We met Sandy at the hospital, where we called the police, who also came to hear from Doc. Thomas that our friend, Ethan, had died.”

“Was the newspaper reporter there when you talked to the constables?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you can add?”

Sandy shook his head, and Calvin called for Constable Graham, standing next to the stage curtains. He took out his notebook and waited for Calvin to question him. “You were at the hospital when Dr. Thomas told Mr. Ferguson’s friends that he had died. Did you ask him for the cause of death?

“When I did, he said he could not comment on the cause of death until he had made that determination.”

“Dr. Thomas, sitting at the table, rose and took the oath. “Have you determined the cause of death, Dr. Thomas?”

“His lungs gave way, and he just died from being unable to breathe. His ribs were crushed, and his lungs were compromised in the process. We tried to use oxygen to help him breathe, but it worked only for a short time. We increased the amount, but his system was too compromised by this time to have any lasting effect.”

He looked at the jury and talked about different verdicts they could offer. They almost immediately returned a verdict of misadventure.”

“And the initiating cause of his death,” said the constable.

“Being run over by a car by an individual or individuals with the intent to kill the deceased.”

The crowd gave a great cheer that set the crowd outside cheering as well.

Dr. Thomas smiled, picked up his papers, and made his way through the crowd patting him on the back.

Constable Graham approached them and asked to see them all at the police station.

“We’d also like Mr. McCall from the newspaper present if he needs to talk to any of the crowd before we do.”

“You can talk to him after we’ve had a chat. We need as much info as you can give us about this and how you might help us find out who was driving the murder car.

Hugh told McCall they would meet later as the constables led them out. Graham had a surprise at the police station for them – two men in custody, strangers in town with a black car and a broken fender.

“Do any of you know these individuals?”

They shook their heads.” They’re not from here,” said Sandy. “How about the rest of you.” The others shook their heads.

“They say they’re from Truro on the way to Glace Bay, where they’ve been offered a job. They claim they stayed overnight elsewhere and arrived in town the morning after the accident.”

“Could we interview them?” said Sandy. “They will be four of us, and I know the others also would have questions.”

Graham led them to their cell and unlocked the door for them. Sandy waved them all to sit. The older one was in his mid-40s and had a beard with flecks of white and searching eyes. “We just arrived in town this morning and found ourselves locked up for a crime we did not commit. We understand the accident took place Tuesday night, and we were still in Truro then.”

Hugh looked at Graham. “Did you try to reach his family or someone who could tell us when they left Truro?”

“Their families do not have a telephone. We have a call into the Truro police to visit their homes and find out for sure. We haven’t heard back from them yet.”

The cell was damp with a musty smell in the basement of the station. There was a single lamp in the ceiling to light the entire cell area. Their cell had a chair, a wash basin, and a pail to relieve themselves. They could hear someone cursing in the background and someone else shouting at him to shut up. Both of them sat on the edge of their cots. The younger one low-

ered his head and let his friend do all the talking.

“What are your names?” said Hugh.

The older one spoke for them both. My name is Jerome MacDonald, and my young nephew’s name is Gerry Preston. He’s my sister’s son.” He turned to Graham. “Did you call the Truro police?”

“Still waiting for a call back from them.”

“Do you have any relatives in Glace Bay?” said Hugh.

Preston shook his head.

“Who offered you jobs here?” said Graham.

“A construction company that’s building an addition to the steel mill. We do a lot of wiring for companies in Nova Scotia.”

Hugh made a note to call the steel mill. He studied their faces and turned to the others. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m inclined to believe them.”

“To be on the safe side,” said Graham, “I still want to hear where they were Tuesday night.”

***

Grete was crying. Kay had her arms around her shoulders and was wiping Grete’s eyes with the edge of her white apron. Grete looked at Konrad. “It’s Rhinehart. They sent him from school for beating up one of his classmates. The principal called and said he would be expelled if he hurt another boy. What are we going to do?”

“I will see to him,” said Konrad. “Anything else?”

“There was a call from Constable Graham. He asked me to tell you that the police in Truro confirmed that his two prisoners did not leave Turo until just after lunch on Wednesday and that they had been released. He also mentioned they were following up with another lead.”

Konrad took Rhinehart upstairs to their bedroom and sat him down. “What’s this all about, Rhinehart?”

“One of my classmates called me a stinking Hun. I told him to take it back, and he wouldn’t. So I knocked him to the ground and pounded his face until he started crying. His nose was bleeding, and he ran to our teacher and said I beat him up.”

“Did you tell this to the principal?”

“He didn’t give me a chance.”

“Your mother is very upset. So avoid picking fights with someone who calls you names. Instead, make up a name they don’t like and make fun of him.”

“What if I see him or someone on the street who calls me names?

‘That is up to you as long as you do to get in trouble with the police.

Just be careful.”

Konrad had reason to change his view a week later when he was surrounded by seven men who attacked him on all sides. “This,” said a heavyset man in the late 40s, who smashed him in the face and broke Konrad’s nose,” is for what your son did to my son.”

Another man, whom he recognized from the mine, threw him on the pavement and kicked him in the ribs. “This is for my son.”

He lay on the ground. He had a sense his ribs had been broken when breathing became harder. A policeman helped him up. “Did you fall?”

“I’m not sure. Someone pushed me to the ground from behind, and I hit my head and blacked out. I would appreciate it if you could help me home.”

The policeman when to a call box and asked for a patrol car to take Konrad home. He helped Konrad reach the door and knocked.

Hugh opened the door. “What happened, Konrad?”

“I found him lying on the street and helped him to his feet. He says someone whacked him over the head, and he hit his head against the pavement.”

Hugh helped him to the sofa in the front room and went to the kitchen to get a basin of hot water and a cloth. He bathed Konrad’s face while the policeman rose to leave. “If he recovers and remembers something else, call the station. Also, check and see if he was robbed.”

“I think my ribs are broken,” said Konrad. “I was attacked by a group of men from the mine. I recognized one of them. They were paying me back for what Rhinehart did to their sons.”

One of them kicked me in the ribs, and I think they broke them,” he managed to say. His breath was heavy, and he was gasping for air when he talked.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” said Hugh, going into the kitchen to order a taxi. Kay, who had heard the last comment while descending the stairs, put her hand over her mouth.

Grete had followed her and gasped when she saw Konrad’s bleeding face and heard his breathing. “Mother of God, what happened?”

Chapter Seven

“He has broken three ribs and damaged his lungs,” said Dr. Duncan Ross. “We’ve wound a bandage around his chest, taken him to a room, and put him on oxygen.” He took Grete’s hand. “He will recover, but his ribs and lungs may have been compromised forever.”

“Can we see him now?” said Grete in a tiny voice.

Kay could see she was ready to burst into tears and put her arm around her.

Dr. Thomas nodded. “But not for long. And don’t ask him any questions. The best medicine he needs most now is good long sleep.” He led them down the corridor to Konrad’s room. It was dark with only a few footlights along the wall for guidance, and the smell of anesthetics hung in the air.

Dr. Thomas entered first. An oxygen tent made of a rubberized material surrounded his bed. Grete searched for his face but could only make out his figure behind it. “Can you hear me, Konrad?” said Grete in German.

She saw him nod. “We are all here for you. Dr. Thomas tells us you should recover and be your old self again.” She saw him try to smile as he closed his eyes.

“I’ll find out who did this to you, no matter what it takes. But right now, all we want you to do is go to sleep and feel like your old self when you awake,” said Hugh.

The visitor at the nurses’ desk took off his cap. “I’m a friend of Konrad Aberbach, and I want to be there for him and help him in any way he needs to be helped. He and I are old buddies from the mine.”

“Your name?” said the head nurse.

“Patrick Jones,” he said after a few seconds.

She wrote it down and took a good look at his face. Something about his harsh voice, lean cheeks, and wandering dark eyes made her uneasy. “My name is Jones, and I don’t recall you. Do you have any identification?

Jones reached into his pocket and came up empty. “It seems I’ve left home without my wallet.”

The head nurse brushed the side of her grey hair, and her blue eyes studied his face for the third time before nodding. “One of our nurses will escort you down to his room.”

She left him at the door and returned to the nurses’ station. Jones closed the door behind him and sat beside Konrad’s bed on the brown wooden chair. He reached out and rustled the oxygen tent. He saw Konrad turn and close his eyes. Jones shook the oxygen tent again to see Konrad open his eyes again. There was fear in his eyes, and Jones smiled.

“The two men who gave you the beating asked me to bring you a message. They want you to know that if you blab to the cops, they will do to your son what they did to you.”

Konrad turned away, and Jones rose and headed for the door. He looked back as he opened the door and walked past the nurses’ station and out of the hospital.

The head nurse turned to one of the nurses. “Go down and check on Mr. Aberbach.”

The nurse opened the door to see Konrad had pushed the oxygen tent away from his upper body. She rushed to return it and noticed that his face had turned a dirty grey. “What happened?”

Konrad turned his head. “Hugh. I need to see Hugh.” ***

“I want to leave this God-forsaken county,” said Grete. “I never want to see it ever again. When Konrad recovers, he may not be able to dig for coal the way you can, Hugh.”

Kay put her hand on her arm and rose to refill their mugs with fresh tea. “Tomorrow, Konrad may look a lot better. Let us pray that he will.”

When they went to bed, Kay could hear Grete praying. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer and had just gone to sleep when she heard the telephone ringing. She raced down the stairs to get it. It was the head nurse. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Mr. Aberbach has taken a turn for the nurse. We are doing everything we can for him. He asked to see your husband.”

Kay knocked on Grete’s door. Grete was still awake and crying. “It was the hospital, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Konrad has taken a turn for the worse and wants to see my husband.”

Kay woke Hugh, who also rose and dressed while Kay called for a taxi. Grete arose, and Kay left to get her clothes back on. Hugh didn’t have a good feeling about it and hurried downstairs.

Grete cried all the way to the hospital. Her blond hair hung from around her face in strings, and there was anxiety on her thin face. Kay took her hairbrush from her bag and brushed Grete’s hair.

They reached the hospital a few minutes later and headed straight to Konrad’s room. He was no longer there. Panic flashed immediately in their eyes, and Grete started breathing quickly. “He’s gone. Otherwise, he could be here,” she said, beginning to sob with a deep breath.

The door opened, and the head nurse and two other nurses wheeled him inside and moved him gingerly to his bed. They attached his breathing apparatus and closed the curtains of his oxygen tent.

The head nurse looked at Hugh. “He got worse after one of his friends visited him.”

“Who was that?”

“He identified himself as Patrick Jones.”

Hugh shook his head. “Neither Konrad nor I know anyone by that name.”

“He said he was one of Mr. Aberbach’s mates in the mine.”

Hugh’s face suddenly darkened. “Would you know him again if you saw him?”

The head nurse nodded. “In a thousand years. He had a harsh voice, and his black eyes never looked me over while he was talking.”

“Could you provide me with a more comfortable chair? I plan to be at his bedside until morning,” said Hugh. “Then, after a pause, “I need to call the police.”

The head nurse nodded. “Before you go, let me bring you up to date. We gave him something that will help him sleep through the night.” Then, after a pause, “it was touch and go for a while, but he has something he needs to impart, and I think he wanted to tell you something.”

A constable arrived 30 minutes later. He was tall, young and had an uneasy smile. His face was round, and his brown eyes looked tired. He talked with a soft voice. “Start from the beginning.”

“There really is no beginning other than he was attacked by a group of men, knocked to the pavement, where he banged his head, and someone kicked him in the ribs. Three of his rubs are broken, and he is having difficulty breathing.”

“That’s it?”

“Earlier this morning, someone visited him, posing as one of his friends. He became much worse after that. I suspect someone came with a warning to keep the names of the people who attacked him to himself.”

“Is he able to talk to me?”

“Perhaps tomorrow.”

The constable rose and was stopped by Hugh. “Would it be possible to have a constable outside his door? I know we would all feel better if you could.”

“Let me see what the chief thinks.”

Grete and Kay showed no signs of leaving. “My mother can look after Peggy and the boys,” said Kate.

There was a knock at the door, and the janitor pushed in three large chairs for them, followed by one of the nurses carrying a large teapot and a plate of tea biscuits. The head nurse thinks you might appreciate this and to let her know if you need anything else.”

“I never thought hospitals were like this,” said Grete.

Hugh smiled and looked at Konrad, sat back and closed his eyes. He had to let Sandy and Finley know about it in the morning, he thought, as he drifted off.

The constable joined them when they reached the hospital cafeteria. He shared a cup of coffee before he and Hugh headed back to Konrad’s room. “Konrad wasn’t awake when we left,” said Hugh.

When they reached Konrad’s room, a nurse was bathing his head, his eyes were open, and he was staring at the ceiling. “Konrad,” said Hugh. “I’ve brought Constable Graham along to see you, and he is interested in the man who visited you last night.”

Konrad turned away. Hugh looked at Graham. “Let me talk to him first.”

Hugh turned to Konrad. “What’s bothering you, Konrad? Did your visitor threaten you?”

Konrad didn’t respond. Hugh could see the fear in his eyes. “We are here to keep you safe. Someone will always be with you, and no one will ever get you again.”

Konrad tried to shake his head, but it hurt too much. “Not me,” he managed to say.

The nurse opened the blinds, and the sunshine lit up the room.

“Not you. Then who? Grete?”

Another small shake of his year. “Your boys?”

Konrad didn’t respond immediately. He tried to say Rhinehart. Hugh immediately understood.

“They will do something to Rhinehart if you tell the police?”

Konrad tried to nod.

“We’ll soon fix that,” said Hugh, rising to bring Constable Graham back. “He says he has been threatened, not with his life but with his son, Rhinehart, in some way.”

Graham nodded. “I suspect this is all we’ll find out from your friend today.”

Hugh sat back and closed his eyes when Kay and Grete arrived with Sandy and Finlay. They stood beside the bed and tried to see Konrad through the rubberized oxygen tent.

Konrad opened his eyes and tried to smile when he saw Sandy and Finlay. Sandy reached under the tent and felt for Konrad’s hand.

“Do you think the strike inspired this?” said Finlay.

Hugh shook his head. “From what I can gather, it’s something more personal. Whoever did this to him sent someone to warn him if he talked to the police, his son, Rhinehart, would pay for it. Constable Graham has been briefed. I think we’ll know a lot more once he improves.”

“Whatever it is, let him know that we’re behind him all the way.”

Five days later, Konrad was discharged from the hospital, and he still hadn’t revealed everything. He decided to talk only when he sat back on his chair in the kitchen. “I did not see them. They attacked me from behind and knocked me to the pavement. All I could make out was the pair of boots hitting my chest before I blacked out.”

“What about your visitor?”

“I had never seen him before. He came with a warning that if I reported them to the police, they would do the same thing to my son, Rhinehart.”

“Do you know why?”

Konrad nodded. “It appears that a couple of his classmates called Rhinehart names, and he beat them up. So they decided to beat me up to ensure I stopped Rhinehart from beating their sons in the future.”

“So, we can trace the people who attacked you. They know you can trace them through their sons.”

“I do not want Rhinehart hurt by these men. They are brutal.”

“It’s up to you, Konrad, but if it were Peggy, I would still tell the police. Once people like this feel empowered, there is no telling what they

will do.”

“I will like to think about it.”

***

Two weeks later, everything came to a head when Kay’s mother brought home a Toronto newspaper from the grocery store and pointed to a story headlined: Jobs for immigrants in Ontario’s fruit farms.

Grete seized upon it immediately.” Let us go there. No more coal dust and no more strikes. No more thugs. But good jobs out in the air and sunshine.”

“It’s a long way off,” said Kay’s mother. “Days and nights on buses and trains until we reach there. Take a good look at the atlas, and you will see what I mean.”

“At least we can find out what buses and trains we need to take to get us there,” said Grete.

“It will be starting life all over again but in a better place for our children,” said Hugh.

“What about going to Germany?” said Rhinehart. “We don’t need to apologize to anyone there for being German.”

Konrad shook his head. “Your mother and I left Germany for good reasons. It was becoming a place where there was a growing feeling among many people that Germany should show the world that we were still a country to be reckoned with.”

“So, what’s wrong with that?” said Rhinehart.

Konrad shook his head again. “You’re too young to know what war is like, of losing friends you came to love.” He shook his head for the third time. “It is better to make our way in a new place.” He hung his head.

It was getting on to supper, and Kay and her mother went into the kitchen. Grete came to help and started to cry. “I don’t know what has got into Rhinehart.”

Kay wiped her hands on her apron. “He’ll change his tune when we reach the farms in Ontario, where we can learn how to run a farm and pool our savings together and buy a farm of our own, where we can always have enough food and a chance for Rhinehart and Karl to become whatever they want to be. Someone really important. Rhinehart will change his tune three or four years from now.”

In the days following their meeting, Konrad and Hugh went to work checking out bus schedules and the best way to reach Ontario by train and the costs involved.

Four months later, the strike was over, and they were back to work again. The miners had won and were now earning more than before, and Konrad had a man-to-man talk to Rhinehart about staying out of trouble and told him they planned to move to Niagara in the spring.

Konrad and Hugh had just started work when Konrad heard the voice he would never forget of the man who had kicked in his ribs. He turned to see two miners walk past them with shovels over their shoulders.

“That voice,” he whispered to Hugh. “I’ll remember that voice for as long as I live. He’s the one who kicked in my rubs and threatened my son.”

“Were you able to see his face?” said Hugh.

Konrad nodded. “I’ve seen him on the lift many times. He never spoke to us.”

“We’ll talk about what we should do at supper.”

“You two seem to be strangely quiet,” said Kay. Grete looked up and looked at them.

Konrad and Hugh ignored them and kept on eating.

Kay tapped Hugh’s shoulder. “Something happened at work today. Out with it.”

Rhinehart and Karl also stopped eating and looked at them with fear in their eyes.

“I heard the voice of the man who kicked in my ribs. We do not know his name but have seen him on the lift several times. He passed our area. Hugh and I are deciding how to handle it.”

Grete lowered her tea mug and looked at them. “What did you decide?”

“We’re planning to leave here anyway and feel that bringing in the police will not solve the problem,” said Konrad.

“Instead,” said Hugh, “we plan to accuse that individual in front of other miners so that others can know what they did. Konrad was well liked, and the news will be all over the colliery in a matter of hours, and they’ll be judged by their peers without bringing in the police. I know miners, and they’ll be pleased how we handle it.”

Chapter Eight

They said goodbye to their friends and the colliery a week before leaving for Niagara. It was early spring, and there was a chill in the air. Kay and her mother held each other close as they boarded their neighbour’s car with their suitcases. The family next door promised to send them their table, sofa, chairs, and beds by truck once they settled in Niagara.

Konrad had bought the tickets at the bus depot and saw that their suitcases were packed into the compartment on the side of the bus. He sat next to Grete with Rehinart and Karl behind them, and Kay, her mother, Peggy and Hugh sat as close to them as possible.

It took more than eight hours to reach the depot in Halifax. It was getting dark when they boarded another bus that brought them to Digby. They found lodging in a nearby boarding house, where the landlady had prepared a late supper for them.

Two sailors from the Digby ferry joined them and told them how long it would take to make the crossing to Saint John.

“I hope I won’t get seasick,” said Kay’s mother.

“It’s usually pretty calm,” said the other sailor, smiling at Grete. She pushed back her blond hair and smiled back at him. Konrad noticed and smiled.

Morning came quickly. It was still dark when the landlady, an older woman who dyed her hair with black crepe paper, pinched her cheeks. She had made pancakes with brown sugar syrup for breakfast. Rhinehart ate 14 and would have eaten a couple more but had to leave for the ferry.

They boarded at seven o’clock. One of the sailors helped them carry their bags inside. Several other people were already sitting on benches.

The cabin gleamed on the light brown furnishings. They sat next to a large window near the port side, where they had a view of the pier and the bay as it left the port and headed out to the Bay of Fundy.

Rhinehart had found a girl about his age who took him to the deck for a better view of their departure. Seagulls whirled in the air, looking for any food that had been tossed overboard. The wind had picked up and blew their hair over their faces as they entered the bay .

“My name is May,” she said, holding her hand over her eyes. “What’s yours?”

“ Rhinehart.”

“What a classy name,” she said.

Rhinehart blushed and didn’t know quite what to say. Her skirt swirled around her legs, and she lowered her hands to keep it in place. “Maybe we had better go inside until the wind dies down.”

They went inside, where she introduced him to her parents and younger brother. “Where are you from, young man?”

“Glace Bay. We’re on our way to Niagara.”

“We live just outside Hamilton, not far from Niagara,” said May’s mother, a young woman in her mid-30s. She was dressed in a light blue dress, and her bright light brown hair made her somehow look younger. “My family has a farm, where we help my parents.”

“I gather you’re with your parents seated on the other side,” said her father. “My name is Bruce Seeley, and my wife, MaryBeth.”

Rhinehart didn’t know quite what to say and extended his hand. He noticed that his mother and father were watching him, excusing himself. “It was nice meeting you,” he added as he walked back to his parents.

“Who is the young lady?” said Grete. His father had a knowing smile that bothered him.

“Her name is May. May Seeley, and she thinks I have a classy name.” He sat down and glanced furtively at her. His father smiled again. “Her family lives outside a place called Hamilton, and they help out her father on her parent’s farm.

“What’s this I hear,” said Hugh, who had been listening to him.

“You heard right,” said Rhinehart.

Hugh nudged Konrad. “Perhaps your son would introduce them to us.”

Rhinehart pretended not to hear him and closed his eyes. When he opened them about a half-hour later, he saw May approaching him. “I’ve just come in from the deck, and the wind has died. Would you like to join me?”

Rhinehart rose immediately and followed her outside to the deck. She slid her arm in his as they walked down the deck. All he could see was the incredible blueness of the water with no land in sight.

“We’re nowhere,” she said. “And it’s marvellous. Can you feel it?”

Rhinehart, who didn’t quite know what she meant, nodded his head. She held his arm tighter. “Perhaps we can see each other after we get to Niagara.”

Rhinehart bent down and kissed her cheek. “That would be wonderful.”

She led them back into the cabin, adding, “I would like to meet your parents.”

“Then let me bring them over to meet your family.”

He walked back to them with a smile on his face. “I think her family would like you all.”

Konrad looked at Grete and motioned for Hugh, Kay, her mother and Karl to join them.

“You’ve got quite a family,” said Seely, who rose to shake Konrad’s hand.

“This is my father, Konrad Aberbach; my mother, Grete; my brother, Karl my uncle Hugh McGill, auntie Kay and her mother.”

“You have a German name,” said Seeley.”

“Yes,” said Konrad, not sure what to expect.

“Do you know much about grape farming?”

“Hardly anything at all. I come from a family of miners.”

“And you, Mr. McGill?”

“Miner as well.”

“Wonderful. That means you know how to work hard. You will be welcome in Niagara. Germans have a way with wine, like Italians.”

May spotted Partridge Island, grabbed Rhinehart’s arm, and rushed him outside.

“And she complained to her mother that she dreaded the boat ride,” said Seeley with a smile.

“We’re taking the CPR to Hamilton,” said Hugh. ”It leaves this afternoon from Union Station.”

“We’re taking the same train. It goes through Maine and cuts off a lot of travel time. We expect to be in Hamilton tomorrow about this time.”

When the boat docked at Saint John, they took a taxi to union station. On the way, they looked up at the spires of Trinity Church as they made their way down Prince William and onto Dock. From there, their taxi swerved right to Union Depot. Rhinehart kept watch for the Seeleys,

who followed them in a separate taxi. He jumped out of the taxi first and helped his father with the bags as they mounted the front steps and into the three-storey brick building. Hugh and Key and her mother and Peggy followed them inside.

They sat down with their luggage on a long, curving, fading yellow seat in the centre of the station that overlooked a children’s playground. It was long enough to accommodate the Seeleys. Grete spied a small shop selling food and tea near the ticket office and pointed it out to Hugh and Konrad. Bruce Seeley joined them as they made their way into the lineup of other passengers who had the same idea.

A porter walked down the length of the depot, shouting that the train to Fredericton was ready for boarding. That thinned out the lineup. Several infants were crying their lungs out as they reached the shop door.

“Stock up,” said Seeley. “We may not see another place like this until we reach Montreal.”

Konrad loaded up on chicken and egg sandwiches, enough to feed Karl and Rhinehart, who had a never-ending stomach, and enough tea for him and Grete. Huge and Seeley did the same and returned to their seats with their arms full.

An hour later, the porter walked down the depot shouting that the train for Montreal was now ready for boarding. The porter glanced at their tickets and waved them ahead with a shout, “third car from the front.” They all stood at once and joined the lineup at the gate to board the Montreal train.

They found seats across from the Seeleys. May and Rhinehart sat on the end seats and exchanged glances as the train pulled out of the depot and headed towards the bridge that joined the city with West Saint John and around a bend onto another small station, where it stopped for passengers. A few minutes later, the train flew past lush countryside as it made its way to McAdam before crossing the border into Maine and from Quebec. Almost three hours later, the train slowed as it entered Montreal, where the conductor walked through their car announcing that passengers travelling to Toronto must leave the train and board the train next to them.

Konrad was in no mood for this and grumbled as he and Rhinehart picked up their bags, followed by Hugh and Brue Seeley and their families down the corridor and the steps to the platform, where another trainman checked their tickets and pointed them to the first car.

Others had occupied the seats before they boarded and had to settle for seats in different parts of the car. “Don’t worry,” said Seeley, “once we hit Kingston, a lot of people will get off.”

“How long is that from here?” said Konrad.

“About three hours.”

Rhinehart counted the minutes as the train passed into Ontario. He could see May chatting to a young man six seats ahead of him. They were laughing at one of his jokes, and he set his mouth. Konrad sat next to him, dipped his hand into his bag, and offered him a sandwich. Rhinehart shook his head and never took his eyes off May and her new friend.

At Kingston, the young man rose, picked up his bag, waved to May and disappeared. Rhinehart didn’t wait. He rose, walked up to where May was sitting and sat next to her.

She looked at him. “I missed you.”

“I don’t think that much. You were so busy talking to that man that you didn’t even look back to see where I was.”

“He started the conversation, and I just replied. He’s off to join the Royal Military College, and we should be proud of him. Besides, you have not even mentioned you would like me to be your girlfriend.”

He sat back and looked ahead. He was boiling inside and knew intuitively that if there was ever a time to ask her, it was now. “I would like you to be my girlfriend.” He was too scared to look at her and waited for her reply.

May kissed him on the cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He reached out and felt for her hand and held it until they reached the outskirts of Toronto when May rose and looked for her parents. Rhinehart rose to sit with his mother while Karl played a game with Peggy on the seat behind them.

The train finally came to a stop inside Union Station. They all rose, and Hugh asked the conductor where they would find the train to Hamilton. He led them and pointed to a train, three tracks to the north of them. He looked at his watch. “It would be leaving for another 35 minutes.”

They were hungry, and the men searched for a food shop, returning 15 minutes later with sandwiches and tea. “I know everyone is hungry, but we should board the train to Hamilton now.” The noise level in the station made hearing difficult.

He rose and motioned for the others to follow him as he led them up a flight of stairs to the track where the train for Hamilton was puffing white smoke.

They went to the first car and found seats together. May and Rhinehart shared sandwiches and smiled at each other.

“If you don’t have lodging in Hamilton,” said MaryBeth Seeley, “why not come and stay with us until you get your bearings.”

“We don’t want to impose,” said Kay.

“It’s an old farmhouse, out in the country, with plenty of rooms that no one uses. Besides, I know my mother would like to see new people. She doesn’t go out much. She’s in her 90s.”

“MaryBeth’s father will also be able to tell you which farms are looking for help.”

Hugh nodded, and Rhinehart and May smiled.

The train puffed its way into Hamiton, and the station was smaller than Toronto. Seeley was the first to rise and get his bags, and MaryBeth and May followed him down the aisle and onto the platform outside.

MaryBeth’s father was waiting for them and hugged May and twirled her around in his arms. “We have friends we’ve invited to stay with us for a few days. They’re all the way from Cape Breton and don’t have lodging in Hamilton yet. Besides, they want to work on farms, and I told them you could point them in the right direction.”

Kay and her mother descended first, followed by Hugh, Grete and Konrad. Rhinehart and Karl left last, carrying the rest of the bags.

MaryBeth introduced them to him while Rhinehart sought out May.

“Welcome,” said Allison Drew, extending his hand to Hugh and Konrad. “You’re a German, I take it,” he added.

Konrad nodded. “And this is my wife, Grete, and my two sons, Rhinehart and Karl.”

“Were you in the war, Mr. Aberbach?”

“Yes, I regret to say.”

“I lost our only son there,” said Drew, who lapsed into silence and turned to Hugh. “How did you happen to meet Mr. Aberbach?”

“At the top of a hill. We each had a rifle pointed at each other. I looked at my watch. It was only a few minutes to the ceasefire, and I pointed to my watch. I threw my gun to the ground, and Konrad did the same. For us, the war was over.”

Allison Drew lowered his head. There were tears in the corners of his eyes. He wiped them with his handkerchief and smiled at them.

Chapter Nine

“Ihadto admit when he asked me about the war that he was going to throw us out,” said Konrad.

“Even more interesting,” added Hugh, “it seemed to make him feel more friendly. I think our story made him feel good about the war somehow.” They were in the only bathroom in the house and took turns at the mirror to shave and take a quick bath.

The women rose an hour earlier and were in the kitchen making breakfast. Allison and his wife came down last. He helped her to her chair and unfolded her napkin. “Now that MaryBeth is back, we can have real breakfasts again.”

Meredith Drew was the first to laugh. “She’s a great cook. Wait until you sample her buttermilk pancakes.”

“We’re having ham and eggs and new bread today, mother. Besides, I have asked Grete to make tomorrow’s breakfast so we can sample how German breakfasts taste.”

When supper was over, MaryBeth turned to her daughter. “May, I’d like you to take Rhinehart and his brother to school so they can share classes with you.”

A half-hour later, May rose, followed by Rhinehart and Karl and followed her outside. Her father had hitched their horse, was waiting for them, and immediately took off for the school. They arrived about 15 minutes before the teacher rang the bell to enter and sit at their desks. May rose and approached her teacher. “Miss Hinchcliff, Rhinehart and his brother, Karl, are staying with us and would like to continue their classes with you.”

Miss Hinchcliff looked at their faces and the way they were dressed. She sniffed the air. “Where are you two from?”

“Cape Breton, ” said Rhinehart.

“What are you good at?”

“Mathematics,” said Rhinehart and my brother –“

“Your brother can speak for himself.” It was Miss Hinchcliff’s first year as a teacher, and was a fanatic at discipline. She was thin in her face and body, had small arms, and had lost a tooth at the corner of her mouth.

Karl held his hands together. “I’m good at literature and history.”

“Take the front seat next to the blackboard.”She turned to Rhinehart. “You say you’re good at math. Prove it to me,” she said, writing a complicated equation on the front board.

Rhinehart went to work immediately and had it solved two minutes later. Miss Hinchcliff had a hard look on her face and pointed him to a chair close to Karl. “We are now in Algebra. Please tell the Grade 11 class how to solve these problems,” she said as she wrote down several problems to solve.

Rhinehart went to the blackboard and showed them how he solved the first two equations. When he was done, she looked at him, “you’re very advanced. How did you learn all this?”

“From my father. He likes playing with figures.”

There was a ripple of laughter in the class that died with a stern look from her.

At recess, four boys their age surrounded them and started punching them. Rhinehart didn’t wait for them to attack in full force and knocked two of them down with a single punch. They lay on the ground and looked up at him, and the other two backed off.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” said one of the boys he helped to his feet.

“With a name like yours, you must be Germans,” said the fourth boy.

“Yes,” Rhinehart shot back. “And proud of it.”

“You said you are from Cape Breton,” said the fourth boy, who was slightly taller than Rhinehart.

“I am. My brother and I were born in Cape Breton.”

“That makes you Canadians the same as us,” said the boy he helped up earlier.

May’s face was glowing. She had seen it all from start to finish and waved to him as they entered the classroom.

When he told his parents about it, his mother made Rhinehart promise always to protect Karl. “He’s not as strong as you are, Rhinehart, and afraid to get into a fight. Promise me you will always be there for him.”

Allison Drew waved to Hugh and Konrad to join him in the parlour.

He was sitting at the head of the table and invited them to sit on either side of him. “What made you two give up mining?”

“It’s dangerous work,” said Hugh.

“And besides, we wanted to work outside and in the fresh air,” said Konrad.

“But we’re fast learners and used to working hard,” added Hugh.

Allison looked up at the multi-coloured shade that hung over the table. A dark-stained cabinet with glass doors filled with dishes and silver stood in the corner. He turned on the overhead light, even though the room was lit up from the two windows on the right side of the room.

“My eyesight is not as good as it used to be,” he said with a smile. “Now, let’s hear what kind of farming are you interested in?”

“I’m interested in growing grapes,” said Hugh. “We never saw much of them in Cape Breton, and they were more than I could afford.

“My father always wanted to work at one of the grape farms in Southern Germany, but my mother’s father was ailing, and they didn’t want to move somewhere else where they didn’t know anyone,” said Konrad.

“Before you decide, you should know that there are fruit and vegetable farms.”

“What do you farm here?” said Konrad.

“Mainly peaches,.pears, and plums, but I was always interested in grapes.”

“Then why didn’t you?” said Hugh.

“For one reason or another, we never had the money to buy enough grape plants to make it worthwhile or the time it takes before they become profitable.” Allison fell silent as he thought of the tip blight that hit their peach trees a few years earlier. It was a dry summer and the spores of the affected trees spread to the others.

“One thing to remember. When it comes to farming, there are no guarantees. It can be a season with too much rain and seasons with very little rain. That applies to grapes as well. I want you both to know what you’re up against.”

Hugh glanced at Konrad. “I think we would still prefer grape farming.”

Allison nodded and smiled. “That’s exactly what I would do if I were your age. Right now, there are three grape farms not far from here that have trouble keeping hands. The work can be very back-breaking.”

“We’re used to hard work,” said Konrad.

“Bruce and I will drive out you to see Hank Lawson. He’s very fussy and not an easy person to work with, but he pays well and has two sepa-

rate buildings that he rents to hands he likes.”

Allison and Konrad took the back seats so that Allison could offer a running commentary as they passed one farm after another, and Bruce would slow down as they approached each one. About a half-hour later, Bruce wheeled into Hank Lawson’s driveway.

It was a large rambling house for a big family. Hank had four daughters and three sons with a large dining room table that could seat 16 people, Hank, now in his 70s, walked out with his cane to greet them. He shook Allison’s hand for almost a minute before turning to Bruce. “And who are these young men with you?”

“They’re coal miners from Cape Breton who want to work outside,” said Bruce.

“And they’re fascinated what little I could tell them about grape farming,” added Allison, wiping some drool from his chin with a large blue handkerchief.

“In Cape Breton, we rarely see grapes for sale at our stores. They’re usually all gone in a day. I’d love to feast on them at least once in my life,” said Hugh.

Konrad bent slightly and introduced himself. “In Germany, where I come from, I and my brothers and my father and grandfather have mined coal there all their lives. I wanted to work outside for a change, breathe the air, and feel the rain for a change.”

“Come in, gentlemen. You’re just in time to sample last year’s harvest,” said Hank, wheeling around on his cane and leading the way inside.

A woman in her 50s with greying hair and bright blue eyes, the colour of cornflowers, was placing a large roast into the oven and looked up at the strangers.

“This is Millie, my housekeeper.” She has been our housekeeper since my good wife died nine years ago. She and her husband live on their own farm, adjacent to mine.”

Hank did everything in a big way. That included his kitchen. It was roomy and had a large iron Fisher Enterprise wood stove and a large wood box next to the stove. It also had a tank to warm water and a warming oven above the stove. Three large windows let in the sunlight, and a large sink with a pump for water. The tablecloth gleamed in the sunlight.

“Lunch should be ready in 30 or 40 minutes,” he said, ushering them into his dining room. He turned on the light, and the room suddenly came alive with a large painting of his wife and another of him and his family. The white lace curtains shivered in a passing breeze.

“Konrad and Hugh feasted on grapes as Hank talked about his farm.

“There are 21 acres in all to my farm.”

“We didn’t see any grape vines on our farm so far.”

“That’s because the land here is flat,” said Hank. “Grapes are grown best on the side of a hill. After lunch, we’ll take a run-out so that you can see for yourselves. You won’t see any grapes growing now because it’s spring.”

“We’d love to see it,” said Hugh. Konrad bent closer to Hank.

They ate lunch while Hank kept talking about the farm and its potential. “One of my sons is with me still, but he wanted to go to the Falls for a few things we will soon need. I know he would rather be in Montreal or Toronto with his brothers and about all the great things available to them, and I tell him there is also a great future here. He just nods and doesn’t say anything.”

An hour later, Hank hooked up his horse to a small carriage, which took them back fields and the slopes with stakes, waired to a long row of other stakes.

“What are the stakes for?” said Hugh.

“Grapes grow on vines and along the wires.”

“They’re quite a space apart,” said Konrad.

“That’s because they need space to grow. These vines are spaced eight feet apart.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon viewing more slopes and more long rows of stakes and wires. “This group is for a different grapes. They’re for wine. The others you saw are for table grapes.”

David Lawson arrived at the farmhouse carrying large rolls of wire and placed them in the shed at the back of the farmhouse. His father introduced him to them and cocked his head. “So, what do you think, gentlemen?”

Hugh looked at Konrad and nodded. “It’s what we dreamed of.”

“You may have a different idea after a week of putting mulch around new plants and making sure they have enough,” said David. “Other people had the same idea but never lasted a week. Not that I blame them, and it’s damn hard work.”

Hugh looked him in the eye. “When do we start?”

“Tomorrow at six o’clock, unless you change your mind in the meantime.”

They piled into Bruce’s car and kept looking back until the car turned onto the main road. “What do you think?” said Allison.

“After what we’ve been through,” said Konrad, “it’s heaven.”

“Then be ready for breakfast at five,” said Bruce. “We’ll see how you

like it and then help you for your families find a place closer to the farm.”

It was still dark when Bruce knocked on their doors. Hugh rose and staggered to the bathroom with his shaving kit. Konrad was there already and had just finished when Hugh arrived. Fifteen minutes later, they were washed and shaved and walking down the stairs to see MaryBeth putting plates of eggs and bacon at their seats, only to return with a large pot of tea and homemade bread.

They ate in silence, put on their jackets a few minutes later, and followed Bruce to his car. “Should you find the work more than you bargained for,” ask Hank to call me, and I’ll pick up. Otherwise, I’ll’ be here at five.”

“It’s a wonderful life once you get used to it. You may not agree after today, but it gets easier the longer you stick with it.”

The sun was already in the sky when they left the farmhouse in a small, old car Hank had nought ten years earlier. It had to be cranked a few times before it sputtered and finally turned over, sending a cloud of blue smoke behind it. About 20 minutes later, they stopped at a sloping area. David got out with a bag of mulch, passed it to High to carry, and followed him up the hill.

“I planted this stalk a few weeks ago before the weather warmed. Today, watch what I do, and you to do exactly what I do to all the others,” said David. He bent, took some of the mulch, and made a circle around it. Konrad watched from below. David turned and motioned for Konrad to bring up another bag of mulch for Hugh.

He returned, and they drove down a mile and stopped. Konrad followed him up the slope and watched how he made a circle with the mulch.

“Got it,” said Konrad.

“I’ll be back in an hour and pick you up for another job.”

When David returned, he brought with him two large jugs of water. “These new vines also need water to grow, and each jug has a cup. Fill each cup and pour it around the vine like this,” he said, showing them how to pour the water around the plant. “Just this amount.”

By the time five o’clock rolled around, they were back at the farm and boarding Bruce’s car for their way home. “How was today?”

“Mainly boring.”

“That’s because you were given a simple repetitive job to do. Other jobs can be very debilitating, and you should also understand that many farm jobs are very debilitating, and many people can’t take it.”

Compared to loosening seems of coal in a cramped position, this was wonderful. Hugh and Konrad felt elated all their way back home.

Chapter Ten

“Do you and your family have found a place yet? David tells me you both work without complaint, even at repetitive work. This kind of farming can be very boring, and it’s not for many people. I think my son has a problem with it. What is your feeling so far? Are you ready to make your career in farming?”

They both looked at Hank and saw that he was hoping they would take to farming. “When you mine for coal, you are crammed trying to loosen a coal seam and shovelling it onto a cart. All day long. Your back aches, and you’re always glad when you hear the whistle at quitting time. We’re sure there are tougher jobs than we were given this week,” said Konrad. “but we’d like to try.” He looked at Hugh, who nodded.

On Monday morning, Hank was waiting for them outside. “I”d like you to see me at the end of the day.”

They spent the entire day preparing the shed for the new crop. “You’ll be busy will also kinds of other things once the season gets into full gear,” David told them as they ate lunch inside in the company of two cows.

When it was time to quit, Hank came to look at what they had done.”I see you’ve painted the stalls and the room where we weed out the bad grapes and clean them for shipping. You boys don’t waste much time.” He paused to glance at other areas of the shed. “Have you found a place to hang your hats yet?”

Hugh shook his head. “Bruce suggested we wait until we were sure. We love the place and the work.”

“Glad to hear it. I have a couple of places vacant on the farm that might suit you. Before you take off, I’d like you both to have a look at them. They’re yours if you like them.”

“How much is the rent?” said Hugh.

“For the right tenents who are prepared to be with us the rest of the season, the rent is free.”

“Free?” Konrad looked at Hugh, who couldn’t believe what he was

hearing.

“You have our commitment for the rest of the season and our word on it,” said Hugh.

“Then come back to the farmhouse and sign a contract with me. One thing more, what do you expect in the way of wages?”

“We earned $1.67 a day working in the mine,” said Hugh.

“I’m prepared to offer $2 a day, five days a week off-season, and $2.25 a day full season. One thing more, there will be many weeks where you’ll be working the full seven days. I want you to know the worst before you put your John Henrys on our contract.”

They entered his office at the other end of the house, where they sat at his desk. He opened a drawer and slid a sheet for each of them to sign. “Read it carefully, and if you’re satisfied, sign at the bottom of the sheet.”

Hugh read it carefully and nodded to Konrad as they took the straight pen, dipped it in an ink bottle, and signed their names.

“You’re be surprised at the number of people who back out at the last minute. You’d think they were signing their lives away. I like you two. So does my son. Between you and me, he hopes you both will stay for as long as we have the farm.”

Bruce was waiting for them when they emerged onto the yard. Hank waved to him, “do you mind waiting a few minutes or even joining us when I show these two the two houses they can have while they’re here.”

Bruce followed them to the first house, where Hank passed Hugh the key. The lock opened smoothly, and they entered to find a large parlour and, behind it, the kitchen, equipped with a large iron wood stove, a large table, eight chairs, a large sink, and a water pump. The kitchen was larger than they were used to and had two large windows that looked out at the fields and the hills beyond.

“Grete will love this. She hated looking at the grime and barren fields outside their home in Glace Bay.”

“So did, Kay.”

There are more surprises upstairs. At the head of the stairs, there was a door. Hugh opened it. It was a full bathroom, complete with a bathtub and another sink. There were four bedrooms, each larger than they had in Glace Bay.”

“What about the other house?” said Konrad as they walked down the stairs.

“Exactly the same as you saw in this house.”

On the way back, Konrad said, “what do you think our wives will think?”

Hugh shrugged. “You can never tell with women.”

“I’d liked to live together the as we did in Glace Bay. We were a family there.”

Hugh nodded. “We’ll soon find out,” he added as the car drove to the farmhouse.

“You’re late today,” said Grete. “Kay and I thought something happened to you. But looking at you both, I think something good.

“Hank has two vacant houses he will rent to us rent-free,” Konrad said, “and each one is bigger than what we had in Cape Breton.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” said Kay.

Kay and Grete decided to go with them to the farm in the morning. Rhinehart wasn’t pleas but went along with them, grumbling about having to wake up so early as he washed his face.

“You’re almost a grown man, Rhinehart. You’ll be 16 in a month, and you and your brother will be done school soon,” said Grete. ***

They moved in the following week. In the end, Kay and Grete decided they wanted to share the house the way they did before. Rhinehart and Karl had to admit they loved their room, which had two closets for their clothes. A large bay window opened onto the road, and a desk in the corner where they could store their books and Rhinehart created model airplanes.

Grete and Kay also got most of their vegetables from Hank, whose farm also yielded potatoes, onions, cabbages, carrots, lettuce, and even pumpkins. Kay’s mother discovered a hidden room at the end of the kitchen where they could store everything.

Rhinehart sulked and kept to himself after soon was over. He wanted to see May, and there was no word from her. He pestered his parents to get a telephone, so he could at least talk to her.

“They cost too much,” said his mother.

“Not is you split the cost with Uncle Hugh.”

“You will see her on your birthday,” said Grete. “Be patient. We have already sent an invitation for her and her parents to join you on your birthday.”

Rhinehart counted the days. On day six, he thought he would die if he did not see her soon. He began to count the hours and started making mistakes in cutting out the balsa frames for his model plane.

During the last two days, he went out with his father and Hugh to the fields where they were pounding stakes and stringing wire to connect them. The hours went by quickly, and before he knew it, it was time to quit

for the day.

Hank watched from his kitchen window how Rhinehart strode back from the field with Konrad and smiled.

The next day, Hank waved to Rhinehart as they returned from work. “I understand tomorrow’s your birthday, and you won’t be coming in.” He reached into his pocket and placed a two-dollar bill in his hand.

Rhinehart looked at the bill and Hank. “Thank you, Mr. Lawson. I was just helping out my father.”

Their supper was interrupted by a neighbour, who hauled his son into their kitchen. “Your son almost killed my son. His face is black and blue from the beating your son gave him. I wanted you to know before I take my son to the police. Your son should be locked up.”

Konrad looked at Rhinehart. “Is that true, Rhinehart?”

“He and his friend were picking on Karl. I told them to leave Karl alone. So they ganged up on me. One of them stood behind me and held my arms while his son rolled up his sleeve and prepared to give me a beating. I flipped the boy behind me over my head and gave them a beating they would never forget.”

The man turned at his son, who was looking at the floor.

“Karl saw what happened. Ask him.”

Karl nodded. “They grabbed my books and punched me in the face. Rhinehart told them to back off. So they decided to go after him. After that, they’ve left me alone.”

The man glared at his son. “The next time you pick a fight with someone, just make sure it’s neither of these two.”

Grete kissed Rhinehart on the forehead and brushed back his hair. “One day, Karl will repay you for looking after him.” Later that day, the Forget-Me-Nots suddenly bloomed and covered the hillside outside her window. Rhinehart hugged her and left, returning with a bunch of them for her in his thick fingers.

Rhinehart went to bed early after supper, mainly to sleep away the hours and dream of May.

The next morning, Karl and Rhinehart posed for pictures. Hank had loaned them his camera for the day. “Wait until May sees it. Will you take one of May and me as well?”

Grete nodded. “It’s your birthday, and you have but to ask.” She turned to Karl. “Yours as well, Karl.” She turned and placed French toast and brown sugar syrup on extra-large plates. Kay poured them cups of coffee with milk.

Peggy sat at the end of the table and looked at her mother. “I want

coffee, too.”

“Then get a cup from the kitchen.”

While they were eating, the doorbell rang, and Kay let the telephone man in. “Where would you like it?”

“In the parlour,” said Grete, rising to show him exactly where. “We had a problem getting the wire here, but we’re ready to hook it up.”

“When can we start using it?”

The telephone man’s face was flushed, and his brown eyes looked tired. “As soon as I finish connecting it.”

Rhinehart rose from his chair as the telephone man hooked the final wire and rang “0” for the operator a few times before he got a connection. “Just confirming a new connection. The number is 4955.”

He placed the phone on the hook and stood. “I think I smell coffee,” he said.

“Come into the kitchen, and we’ll pour you a cup.”

“Before you go,” said Rhinehart, “could you show me how to use it? I have an important call to make.”

“Sure thing, lad. Watch what I do carefully,” he said, putting his finger into the dial. “What is the number?”

“8721.”

He dialled the number and passed Rhinehart the phone.

It seemed to ring forever before MaryBeth answered the phone.

“It’s Rhinehart, Mrs. Seeley. May I speak to May.”

“She’s not here at the moment. She has a visitor – a young man she met on the train – and they have gone to Hamilton for the day.”

“Does she know it is my birthday today?”

“I believe so. But I will remind her when she returns.”

Rhinehart put down the phone slowly and went to his room. He started to cry. He couldn’t help himself. There was a knock a few minutes later, and his mother opened his door. She saw his tears at once and went to him and held him close.

Rhinehart wiggled away and sat on the edge of his bed. “She knew it was my birthday and decided to see another person rather than see me.”

“You do not know that. She may come after all.”

“I’m not sure I want to see her ever again.”

“Dry your eyes. It’s your birthday, and Mr. Lawson and a few of your classmates wish you a happy birthday.”

Rhinehart watched her leave and dried his eyes. He went to the bathroom, washed his eyes and face, and wet his hair. When he looked presentable, he walked down the stairs slowly. Standing on the landing, he turned

on his widest smile. “Forgive me. I had an upset stomach, and my mother gave me something to settle it, and I feel better now.”

Mr. Lawson brought him a new model airplane kit and smiled as he saw Rhinehart unwrap it and a book to Karl, who bowed as he accepted it. There were nut bars and candy from his schoolmates, who kept slapping him on the back.

Rhinehart stood back and raised his hands. “If you don’t stop, you’ll knock my false teeth out.”

They all sat at the kitchen table, along with Hank at the head, ate French toast, and drank coffee one cup after another. They talked about school and teachers they liked and hated.

“I know you all won’t agree with me, but I liked Mr. Thompson, our Latin teacher, best of all, despite my sore knuckles.” He stood and announced in his loudest voice, “ave et atque”.

“Hail and farewell,” said Grete. “I never thought I’d ever hear that again.”

Rhinehart answered the phone every time it rang and gave up after a week. It was clear she was not going to call him, even to wish him a belated birthday. Karl took to hugging him. There was a look of sorrow on Rhinehart’s face as he turned away after hugging him.

“You are a good brother, Karl. I have not always been kind to you. I’m sorry.” ***

It was the last thing Grete expected to hear.

Bruce Seeley arrived one Sunday morning. Grete spotted his car and opened the door for him. He rushed past her and announced in a loud voice that he wanted to speak to Konrad and Rhinehart

“They are not up yet, but I will get them. In the meantime, may I get you a cup of coffee?”

“Just bring them to me.”

Kay had heard his voice and popped her head into the parlour. “I thought I heard your voice. It’s wonderful to see you again. Let me wake Hugh. I know he will want to see you. We owe you a great deal, and you are always welcome in our home. Please sit.”

“I prefer to stand.”

She read the anger in his voice and rushed upstairs to rouse Hugh. Konrad went down the stairs first, followed by Rhinehart. “My wife says you’re angry about something. How can we help?”

“Your son. He’s got my daughter pregnant and now has walked away from her.”

Konrad looked at Rhinehart, who shook his head. “If she’s pregnant, it’s not by me.”

“She swears it is you.”

“We invited her to my birthday, and your wife told me she was with a visitor, a stranger she met on the train here, and that they had gone to Hamilton for the day, even though she knew it was my birthday.”

Seeley curled his mouth. “Are you implying that she is lying and that the soldier was responsible? He’s at the Royal Military College and will graduate soon as a lieutenant. I don’t think so.”

“How long has your daughter been pregnant, Bruce?” said Grete.

“My wife says she has missed her period,” he said.

“The last time I have seen May was on graduation day, and I have not seen her since, and that is almost two months ago.” He looked Seeley in the eye. “Tell May that I love her and feel sorry for her.”

“You can’t love her very much not to be at her side now.”

“The child is hers, Mr. Seeley. Not mine. And if not the soldiers, then by someone other than me.”

“I think you need a good heart-to-heart talk with your daughter, Bruce,” said Hugh. I can vouch he has not left here during this time to work with me at Lawson’s farm.”

Bruce Seeley turned on his heel and marched out without another word. They could hear his wheels spinning in the mud from an early morning shower.

They sat at the kitchen table. “Someone was watching over you, Rhinehart. Everything happens for the best, Rhinehart. Even if you think it is the end of the world at the time, Remember that,” said Grete.

Hugh brought down a bottle of Brandy from the cupboard. “It’s time that you and Karl know what Brandy tastes like.”

Chapter Eleven

Rhinehart stayed in his room for the next three days, working in his model airplane and wondering if he should call May. In the end, he decided against it, and it was time for him to kick her out of his head for good. His mother brought up his meals to him. So did his father and, on occasion, Karl, who tried his best to make him laugh with his jokes.

He asked to see the newspaper. There were only two. The St. Catharines Standard and The Niagara Falls Review. He read them from cover to cover, even the comics. Occasionally, he saw a story about the German inflation in the 1920s and that a strong man had arisen in the country promising to make Germany great and feared. The inflation was over, and Germany was on the mend.

A month later, he saw that this man had been elected Chancellor of Germany and that his party had won most seats in the German parliament. He spent the rest of the fall working at the grape farm with an idea revolving in his head. He heard that Hilter was inviting all German people to return to the Fatherland in the spring.

“I’m not going in today, papa, and I’ve decided to go to Germany, where I belong. Hitlter is asking all Germans to answer the call and return to the Fatherland, and I want to be part of that.”

“Listen to me carefully, Rhinehart. This man is up to no good. He will drag Germany into another war and ruin it for the rest of the century. There were people like him that made your mother and me leave Germany for good. Life is good here, and we are away from the nightmare he will bring to the country again. At least think about it and let the rest of us hear you out and hear us out before making up for mind.”

Rhinehart didn’t need to think about it. He was in a country that looked down upon people of German heritage and made people like him feel like second-class citizens. This man, Hitler, at least is bringing hope to Germany again and opportunities he could only dream of where he was. This was where his destiny lay, he felt. He would talk to his mother about

it first. She always understood him most, and his father would do what she suggested.

Rhinehart decided to approach her the next day. Karl was with his father at the farm, and he caught her upstairs singing a German lullaby as she made his bed. Grete felt his presence and looked up. “You scared me for a minute, Rhinehart.”

“Maybe I should be like a cat and put a bell around my neck,” he said with a smile. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

“If it’s about you going to Germany, I’m against it. I feel I will never see you again. I didn’t bring you into this world to lose you forever. If you’re not interested in farming, your father and I have saved up and can send you on to university if this life is not good enough for you.”

“It’s not that, mutter.” He used the German word for mother on purpose. I have a feeling in my bones that it is my destiny, that I will become someone great in this new Germany, someone you can be proud of.”

Grete sat on the edge of the bed. “I will talk to your father about it and let you know what he thinks.”

He bent and kissed her hand. “Thank you, mutter.”

Later, when Grete and Konrad lay in bed, she turned to him, “your son approached me today and wants our support for him to go to Germany and seek his fortune there.”

Konrad rose on his right elbow. “How do you feel about it?”

Moonlight shimmered across their bed and created a strange feeling in them both.

“I feel that I will never see him again if he goes. I told him that, but he just ignored it. Ever since May let him down, he has been acting strange. He locks himself in his bedroom and eats alone. I think that is part of it.”

“I don’t know, Grete. He’s still a bit young to be travelling all the way to Europe on his own, and he has no idea what the outside world is like.”

“Maybe if he goes and becomes disenchanted by what he sees and how he is treated, he will come back and be happy to be with us again.”

“Rhinehart is not the sort of person who ever admits mistakes. I’m still against it, and maybe something else will come up and take his interest. Let’s wait and see.”

The next day, there was another surprise visit from Bruce Seeley, his wife, and his daughter. Kay ushered them in and heated the teapot. “May would like to apologize to Rhinehart, and so would I.”

Bruce wore a new tweed jacket and a vest sweater and tried to smile whenever someone talked to him. “I also wanted to show Marybeth your kitchen, and when I described it to her, she insisted on seeing it.”

“It’s stunning,” said MaryBeth, getting up to touch the green wainscoting that ran along the kitchen wall.

“It came with the house,” said Kay.

Grete heard them talking and joined them, wishing she had Kay’s way of entertaining people she did not like. MaryBeth spotted her first. “We came to apologize to your son as well as to you and Konrad,” said Bruce. “We brought along May, who wanted to see Rhinehart.”

“Excuse me while I go and get him,” said Grete, rising from the chair and into the parlour.

Rhinehart could hear strange voices downstairs and was standing at the head of the stairs.

“You have visitors,” said Grete, wiping her greying hair back and trying to smile.

Rhinehart walked slowly down the stairs and into the parlour before he heard May’s voice. He was ready to turn when his mother grabbed him by his shoulder and pushed him ahead of her.

May rose as soon as he entered. “Thank you for seeing me, Rhinehart. We, I, did you wrong when I lied about the father of my child. My parents and I have decided to call him Rhinehart if it’s a boy.” She broke into tears and rushed to him. He held her for a few minutes and escorted her to her chair. He sat down at the table next to his mother. May sat at the other end with her parents and kept staring at him.

“I was just telling Kay and Grete how much we admired their kitchen. When Bruce described it to me, I just had to come and see for myself. He did not do it justice.”

Kay glanced at the clock over the head of the doorway and could see that it was already past four o’clock. “Hugh and Konrad will be coming for supper soon. Why not join us.”

Bruce looked at his watch. “We should be going, and we don’t want to put you to the trouble.”

“Nonsense,” said Kay. “We’re having pork rubs, and I know how much Bruce likes them. Please stay.”

Bruce looked at MaryBeth. “We want you as friends again. We’ve missed you.”

Konrad saw their car as they drove next to them. “What now?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Hugh, opening the door and following Konrad inside.

Bruce held out his hand to Konrad. “We’ve come to apologize to you, your good wife and your good son. “We should have known better.”

Konrad shook his arm and smiled for the first time in days when he

saw May sitting with her mother. He glanced at Grete, who knew what he was thinking. He noted that MaryBeth had made room for Rhinehart to sit next to May at the other end of the table.

Hugh went to the cabinet and brought down their bottle of Brandy. “This calls for a celebration.” Kay’s mother, who liked Brandy, entered, and Hugh poured a shot glass for her.

Hugh raised his shot glass as they all stood and shouted, “to friendship.”

The Seeleys left just as it was getting dark. May kissed Rhinehart on the lips as she rose and headed to the door with her parents.

Grete couldn’t wait to talk to Rhinehart and opened his door. “Does the visit of the Seeleys change anything?”

Rhinehart didn’t respond. She could tell he hadn’t made up his mind.

“In one way, yes. And another way, no.”

“I have no illusions about May and her family. They need a father for May’s child, and I’m it. Should I do so, it will be on my terms, and they may not be palatable for her mother and father.”

“It’s quite clear that she still cares about you.”

Rhinehart didn’t respond and went back to his model airplane. “What did father say when you told him I wanted to go to Germany?”

“He’s not keen about it. Like me, he feels we will never see you again. If you become a father, you will understand how we feel.”

***

A week later, May and Rhinehart were talking on the phone every day. “I would love to see you. My father can come and pick you up.”

“Perhaps, next week,” he said and smiled. He returned to the farm and started working as though his life depended on it. He had a plan and had to do what was necessary before announcing it to his mother and father. He created a crystal radio and listened to the news from St. Catharines every evening before going to sleep.

At the end of the month, he decided to see May. Her father came and picked him up the following Sunday morning and talked incessantly about the possibility of owning his father-in-law’s farm one day once he and May were married.

MaryBeth and May had worked hard to create a memorable meal and his favourite chocolate cake with brown sugar-boiled frosting. Rhinehart kissed May as he sat beside her and smiled at her parents.

“May is starting to show,” said her mother, “and if there is to be a wedding, it will need to be soon.”

Rhinehart nodded and smiled at May. When they said goodbye at the door, he announced, “I will be leaving for Germany soon. If May would like to join me and get married there, she would be welcome.”

Bruce didn’t say a word as they drove back. When they drove into Rhinehart’s driveway, he said, “I hope you are joking about going to Germany.”

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life. My offer stands.”

“What do your parents have to say?”

“I have not told them yet.”

“Your son has just proposed to my daughter but will not marry her unless she goes to Germany with him.” “Then I will,” said Bruce, getting out of the car and following Rhinehart inside. He made his way to Konrad and Grete, out of breath.

“He hasn’t told us, ”said Konrad, giving Rhinehart a withering glance.

“I thought the offer was generous,” said Rhinehart. “And I will soon be old enough to go wherever I please, no matter what you say.”

“Knock some sense into his head. He has a chance to inherit our farm when Marbeth’s father dies, and we die. He will be set for life.” He turned and skidded as he drove out of their driveway.

“He’s right, Rhinehart. Think about that also when you fill your head with the nonsense of fairy tales.”

“I’d at least like to give it a try. Big things are happening, and I want to play a major role in making it happen.”

“Hitler is insane. He’s just marched into Austria. I know his kind, and nothing will appease him until he has all of Europe under his thumb and start a war in which millions of innocent men will die terrible deaths. As your father, I’m asking you to think this over before you finally make up your mind.”

Rhinehart nodded and made his way to his room. He checked his bank and found he had 142 dollars, enough to get him to Halifax, where he could earn his way and keep across the Atlantic on a freighter.

He needed to talk to his mother and waited until morning when Karl was off working on the farm with his father. She was washing dishes with Kay, and they were laughing and humming a German song. He sat at the table, ate a piece of toast, and drank it with fresh hot tea.

When Kay left to clean the parlour and the bathroom, Grete sat beside him. “Your father is upset and kept me up most of the night searing. He told me what you said to the Seeleys.” She paused to smile. “I have never seen him so upset.”

“It is my destiny, mutter. I believe I will become a very important man, someone you and my father will be very proud of.”

“When do you plan to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning before they get up for work.”

“Where do you plan to go?”

“Halifax and board a ship for Europe.”

Grete nodded. “How do you plan to get to Toronto?”

Rhinehart didn’t respond.

“I’ll be up before you and have a taxi waiting to take you to the bus station in St. Catharines.”

That night, he packed all his clothes in his father’s bag and placed them in the bathroom before returning to slide into bed. Karl had turned to the wall and was breathing heavily.

Rhinehart woke at four o’clock, slipped out of his room and into the washroom, where he turned on the light. He washed his face and body before donning oin his clothes and giving his hair a good brush. He then tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was 4.30, and he froze as he heard footsteps in the parlour.

His mother’s face showed first. She added kindling to the stove and made a new pot of tea. She went to the cupboard and took down a large brown paper bag of sandwiches she had prepared the night before.

Rhinehart ate one of the sandwiches as his mother phoned for a taxi. She reached into her apron and gave him 100 dollars which she put into his pocket. He heard a sound in the doorway and looked to see his father standing there.

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” said his father, who had tears in the corners of his eyes. He hugged Rhinehart hard for a full minute.

The lights of the taxi appeared in the parlour window. Rhinehart hugged his mother and kept whispering in her ear, mutter, mutter, mutter over and over.

Chapter Twelve

Rhinehart reached the Toronto bus terminal around 11 o’clock after a stop in Hamilton to pick up passengers. He found the row upon row of streets intimidating, stood, clutched his bag and left the bus, unsure which direction to take that would lead him to the harbour. He saw a car stop, and several people lined up for it. He stood behind an older man dressed in a torn jacket and overalls and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need to go down to the harbour. Can you point me the way?”

The man turned and took his arm. “Go in that direction, and you will eventually reach it.” The man had a kind face with a short growth of white whiskers and smiled at him. “Cross the street, go to the bus stop and wait for the next car going in the direction I showed you. You’ll need five cents.”

Rhinehart thanked him and waited for the red light to change, waving at the older man boarding the car. About 15 minutes later, he went to the other side of the street where a crowd had gathered at the car stop and waited. Rhinehart could hear the car as it squealed around the corner. He was second in line and asked the driver if the car would take him to the harbour.

“Sit up close to me, and I’ll tell you when to get off to get another car heading there.”

Almost 30 minutes later, the driver waved to him. Rhinehart stood, and the driver passed him a transfer. “Give this to the other driver, and it will save you a Nickle. The car heading for the harbour should arrive in a few minutes.”

Rhinehart thanked him, stood on the corner, and kept looking to the left until he saw the streetcar coming. He picked up his bag and stood back from the corner when it stopped. “Will this take me to the harbour?”

The driver, an older man with missing teeth in the front of his mouth,

nodded. “I don’t go exactly to the harbour but close to it. I can let you off there.”

Rhinehart sat on a side seat close to the driver. “Your stop is coming up, sonny.”

Rhinehart stood and held onto the strap above him to keep from falling when the car stopped with a sudden jerk. The driver looked at him. “Take the street on your right, and you’ll be there.”

It had started to rain, and he ducked into the doorway of a large warehouse. Every few minutes, someone would either enter or leave with packages. A woman who was leaving stopped when she saw him standing in the doorway. She looked at his bag. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Rhinehart shook his head. “I’m on the way to the harbour and stopped here to get out of the rain. I see it’s stopping now,” he said, looking at her young face and the fancy way her hair was curled. She wore a hat at the back of her head, and her blue eyes smiled at him.

“I work at an office down the road facing the harbour. If you’d like, come with me.” There was still a bit of rain in the air, and she unfurled her umbrella large enough to cover them both as they headed out. “I gather you’re a stranger to Toronto. If you’re thinking of joining a ship, it’s best to know what you’re in for.”

She suddenly stopped halfway down the street. “I work at the Harbourmaster’s office. Come inside, and we’ll see who’s in port and where they’re going.”

She sat down at her desk and pulled up a chair for Rhinehart. She passed a bundle of papers to the young man sitting at the desk next to her. “This lad hopes to get a berth.” She turned to Rhinehart. “Where would you like to go?”

“Europe. I’m prepared to work my passage.”

“Are you now?” said the man at the next desk. “Shovelling coal into a furnace all day long is a man’s job.”

“I come from a family of coal miners and have worked on a grape farm. I was born in Cape Breton, where we understand coal and how to work with it.”

The man at the desk cocked his head and gave Rhinehart a second look. “The Union is leaving for London tonight. The captain is a good man. Tell him Jack Burgoyne sent you. He might take you on. No guarantees, of course, but you never know.”

“I’ll show him the way,” said the young woman looking out the window. The rain had started again. “He doesn’t have an umbrella.”

They walked past four ships along the pier before coming to The

Union, loading fertilizer from a funnel over the deck and pouring it into the hold. To Rhinehart, it looked smaller than he imagined it would be. A larger ship beside them was getting ready to leave port, and Rhinehart wished he had been on that. He worried that The Union would be smashed to pieces in a major storm as he had seen in the books he had read.

A deckhand whistled as she passed him and headed for the captain’s office. She rapped on his door and entered. Captain Emerson looked up and smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Dunfield, and I see you’ve brought a friend.

Pat Dunfield smiled. “This is Rhinehart Aberbach. He is looking for a berth to take him to London.”

“I do need someone to stoke the furnace. The hand who normally does this has a bad back and needs help there.” He studied Rhiehart’s face and his thin body. “I’m not sure you’d be up to the task, son. This is hard, back-breaking work at the best of times.”

“I come from a coal-mining family from Cape Breton. I know just how hard it can be. But I’m anxious to get to Europe and would appreciate the job if it will get me there.” Rhinehart looked at the captain’s face and could see him revolving the offer in his head.

“Why do you feel you need to get to Europe? This is the land of opportunity where you’re living now. Not Europe.”

“It is my destiny.”

Captain Emerson smiled and shook his hand. “Ask Mr. Lonsdale outside to see me.”

Pat Dunfield kissed him on the cheek and left with Rinehart. “The captain would like to see you.” She turned to Rhinehart. “And this is where we say goodbye, Rhinehart Aberbach. If you are ever in Toronto again, be sure to contact me.” She gave him a long hug and disappeared.

A few minutes later, the deckhand reappeared. He looked Rhinehart all over before motioning him to follow him below to the crew’s quarters. “My name is Albert Londsdale. I’m the ship’s mate, and you’ll be answering to me. Pack away your bag and meet me on the deck.”

Rhinehart nodded, packed away his father’s travelling bag in a small compartment, and climbed the stairs to the deck. “Follow me,” said Lonsdale curtly as he headed down to the boiler room and furnace.

“We’ll be leaving in an hour or so. The furnace has to be stoked so that we have enough steam to leave the port, and we will need enough to get us through the St. Lawerence.”

He picked up a wide-mouth shovel and passed it to Rhinehart. “I will leave you to it. The seaman you’re replacing will come down shortly and

acquaint you with all the dials and gauges. You’ll need to keep your eye on them all the time you’re shovelling.”

There was enough steam to get the ship into Lake Ontario, where it headed for the St. Lawrence within an hour. His face was smeared with coal dust when one of the hands came down and talked to him about the gauges. He looked at the fire raging in the furnace as Rhinehart threw another shovelful of coal inside.

“Take it easy, lad. You’ll tire yourself out before long at the rate you’re going,” said the seaman, an older man with rings of coal dust around his dark eyes and who walked with a slight stoop. “At lunch, we’ll sit together, and I’ll tell you the tricks I used to get the better of the furnace. My name is Len. Len McCarthy.”

The first mate came down just before lunch with his replacement. “Jack White, this is Rhinehart Aberbach. He’s running the furnace during the day.”

Len was waiting for him just outside the room where the crew ate. He led him to an empty table near the back of the room. Sunlight streamed through the portholes on both sides and let in fresh air. The cook was smoking a cigarette as he dished out large bowls of beef stew. There was a tray of buns, and Len pointed to them. “Pick them up first before they disappear. And take your time eating. Rest yourself. You’ve got the toughest job on the ship. Don’t forget that.”

The first mate watched them eat and went to see the captain. “I almost don’t believe it. Young Aberbach and Len McCarthy are getting along like old buddies, and Aberbach is doing an OK job in the furnace room.”

They hit open water the following day. The sea was rough, and the ship lurched from side to side. Len McCarthy hobbled down to warn him. “ When the sea’s like this, red hot coals can suddenly burst from the furnace and skid across the floor if you’re not careful.”

The furnace needed coal, and McCarthy volunteered to open the door for Rhinehart to throw more coal inside and close it before the ship rolled again. They did this for 15 minutes until the furnace was raging.

The next day was far worse. A storm with fierce winds suddenly arose, smashed into the ship, and sent Rhinehart skidding across the floor. He kept looking up to see if McCarthy was coming down the stairs. He was having trouble feeding the furnace as one wave after another crashed against the ship.

He looked up to see the first mate come down the stairs. “Len fell and is bedridden. He asked me to come down and help you. He said you would tell me what to do.” He was shouting to be heard in the noise and fierce

wind that sent the ship crashing through large waves. The door above suddenly opened and what felt like a ton of water drenched them. There was an oily smell as some of the pistons started to slow. The first mate held onto the wall and went to find out why. He was bleeding from a gash on the side of his face and kept wiping away the blood as he made his way into the engine room.

The ship seemed to shudder as another giant wave crashed across the deck. Rhinehart heard the captain’s voice from above. He was calling down to the first mate. Rhinehart crawled across the floor and yelled up to him. “He’s in the engine room. A problem with one of the pistons. And I need someone down here to help me with the furnace.”

“Tell the first mate I need to see him immediately,” said the captain as he disappeared.

A minute later, two men had to hold the railing to keep their balance as they crawled down. “The captain told me to come down and help you with the furnace,” said a young deckhand while the other went to help the first mate in the engine room.

“Hold the door open when I shout, open, and close it just as soon as I’ve added a shovel of the coal.”

“The ship can’t take more of this. There’s gale-force winds outside, tearing the ship apart,” said his helper.

“Now,” shouted Rhinehart as he readied a shovelful of coal for the furnace. The door opened, and Rhinehart dumped it inside. “Again,” said Rhinehart, as they threw in another shovelful. This went on for five minutes until the furnace was burning brightly again.

The first mate emerged from the engine room and went straight to the captain’s office.

“We need to think about evacuating the ship,” said the captain. His face was grey, and his voice was tired. “It’s taking on water, and we can’t take much more before the ship breaks apart.”

“There’s water in the engine room. We’ve been oiling the pistons and doing everything we can to keep everything running.”

Captain Emerson nodded absently. “We also have to think of the men. They wouldn’t stand a chance in a lifeboat with the ocean the way it is.” He looked out his window to see one of the deckhands suddenly swept overboard. He grimaced. He looked at the thermometer and noted that the mercury was beginning to rise. “Go back to the engine room and see what we can do to keep this old tub afloat.”

Rhinehart found himself ankle-deep in water as he shovelled another load of coal into the furnace.

“Is it my imagination? I feel that the winds are dying down,” said his helper.

“I think the worst is over,” said Rhinehart. “And not too soon.” He sloshed around the water and walked to the stairs. Someone was yelling at them from the deck.

It was the captain, “leave the furnace and come upstairs.”

They climbed the stairs two at a time and felt a soft breeze touch their cheeks. “We need to set things right again.” He pointed to Rhinehart’s helper. “First, get on the pumps and drain her as soon as possible. See the first mate and tell him the storm is over and that we must get rid of all the water we’ve taken on.”

There was a party in the deckhand’s mess that night for everyone. Rum was flowing freely. Rhinehart sought out Len McCarthy and drank rum for the first time in his life. He almost choked with his first swallow and felt like throwing up. He used to smell the Brandy his father and Hugh drank and liked that better. McCarthy patted his back and ordered some milk to wash down the taste. The other deckhands who had been watching laughed. So did the captain.

But Rhinehart had earned his spurs in the storm, and he was the talk of the mess. “He kept the ship moving ahead and probably saved all our lives.”

Chapter Thirteen

“You’re sure you want to move on? There’s a berth for you on the old Union any time you decide to come back,” said Captain Emerson, who walked him down the gangplank and onto the pier, where Rhinehart shook his head and thanked him for giving him a chance.

“You know other captains, Captain Leggatt. I would be indebted to you if you could find me a berth going to France, Holland, Belgium, or even Germany.”

Leggatt smelled the streets of London and smiled. “Where would you like to go?”

“To Germany, if possible.”

“Then take a walk with me down the wharf.”

They strolled past eight ships before Leggatt stopped at a large passenger ship. “Let me have a word with the captain,” said Leggatt as he mounted the gangplank and asked to see the captain.

Leggatt introduced himself. “I have a crew member who wants to get a berth on your ship to Germany. He’s young, and I had doubts about him at first but gave him a chance. Thanks to him, he saved the ship in a fierce gale.”

“What did he do on your ship?”

“He shovelled coal into our furnace, even in ankle-deep water and kept us afloat.”

“We already have an excellent crew for that.”

“I suspect he can do any job you give him.”

Captain Drummie swerved in his chair and looked out the window.

“He’s waiting on the pier. You can ask him yourself.”

Drummie, who was clean-shaven and meticulous about everything on his passenger liner, nodded.

Leggatt returned five minutes later with Rhinehart.

“So you’re the famous saviour of The Union. Would you be interested in mopping up the vomit from cabin floors and the outside deck? It’s a messy job and smells enough to make you vomit yourself.”Then, after a pause, “But most of all, I need someone who can deal with difficult passengers quietly and quickly.”

“Where are you going?” said Rhinehart.

“To Denmark before Copenhagen and Hamburg –“

“I’ll take the job but plan to leave your ship at Hamburg.”

Captain Drummie made a face. “If you sign on, it would be for the entire trip.”

Rhinehart shook his head and started to rise. “Hamburg is where I want to go.”

Drummie felt his chin, still sore from a punch from a drunken passenger when they removed him from the dining room. “Okay, but maybe you’ll change your mind. You might by the time we dock at Hamburg. A cruise ship is quite an adventure.”

“You’re a good-looking young man,” said Drummie, who noticed Rhinehart’s strong arms and the assertive way he stood. “I like the way you know what you want. Skip the vomit cleaning. That was just to test you.”

They stood and shook hands.”I’ll have one of our officers find a cabin for you.”

Rhinehart saw Captain Emerson to the gangplank, thanked him repeatedly, and watched him disappear down the pier.

One of the ship’s officers had followed them out and introduced himself. “Captain Drummie asked me to show you around the ship and find a place for you to sleep.” He paused, “I see you have a German name like myself. Do you speak German?”

Rhinehart nodded. “I was born in Canada to German parents, “ he said in German.

“You have an accent. I hope you don’t mind, but I understand you will be leaving the ship in Hamburg.”

Jacob smiled. “Passenger ships are wonderful places to work as you will soon find out with many lonely ladies looking for romance.”

Rhinehart shook his head. “I am answering the call of the Fatherland, Herr Wagner.”

“Call me Jacob. I have many friends who have joined the German army and have risen in the ranks. They are begging me to join, but life to too sweet for me here.”

Jacob Wagner had a handsome oval face with bright blue eyes and blond hair and walked down the deck as though he owned it. “You’ll need

a uniform,” he said as he opened a door halfway down the deck and headed down a wide stairway. The crew quarters were on the third floor. Wagner took out a fistful of keys from his pocket and found a key for a cabin near the end of the corridor. He unlocked the door and ushered Rhinehart inside. “You’ll find your uniform in the closet. Be sure to dress in it before you leave the room. Captain Drummie wants every member of the crew to be dressed in the ship’s uniform when they are on duty.”

Wagner was about to close the door behind him when he turned, “we have supper at seven in the crew’s mess hall. You’ll like the food. It’s the leftovers from the passenger dining room.”

Rhinehart was amazed by the size of the room. It had a private bathroom as well as a good size bed. He sat down at a small table strewn with magazines with a lamp. There was another light at the head of the bed, which he could turn on or off while in bed. He rose and changed his clothes. All the shirts were white. He put the shirt on first. It almost reached his hip, and he stuffed it under his trousers. He reached for the tie and tried to tie it the way his mother did and finally gave up, stuffing it inside his jacket pocket and went in search of Jacob.

Rhinehart headed for the deck and saw Wagner chatting up two young women near the lifeboats. Engel saw him coming from the corner of his eye and excused himself. Rhinehart tried to look helpless. “I need your help. I never learned how to put these things on properly. I need you to show me how.”

Wagner smiled and showed him how to do it step by step. He had him do it four times so that Rhinehart would remember and returned to the young women. They approached him, each of them holding Jacob’s arm. “Isabella would like to meet you. Isabella, this is Rhinehart Aberbach, one of our officers.”

Isabella reached out for his hand and smiled as Rhinehart took it. “You are a very beautiful woman, Isabella,” Rhinehart heard himself say.

“You’re very cavalier, Mr. Aberbach. Jacob tells us you are also German.”

“I was born in Canada, but I am answering the call of the Fatherland.”

“Germany needs you, Mr. Aberbach. More than ever. I know our father would enjoy meeting you.”

Rhinehart could feel himself blush. He didn’t know what to say and looked at Jacob, who smiled at Isabella. “Both of us would enjoy that privilege, Isabella. But now, I hear the call for dinner. Let us escort you there. Perhaps we can meet your father there, said Jacob.”

The dining room was packed, and waiters in white shirts and black

jackets moved among the tables like dancers. Isabella and her sister led them to a table on the port side, where they could look out the windows.

“These two officers have been very kind to us and have given us a tour of the ship. Like us, they are German.” Isabella’s father, a heavy-set man with a white mustache and a fat face, nodded. “Thank you,” he said in German.

Jacob nudged Rhinehart and nodded. “We know you are a very distinguished gentleman, Herr Kuhn and feel privileged to meet you.”

“Rhinehart is from Canada. He is answering the call of the Fatherland and can’t wait until we reach German soil,” said Isabella.

Julius Kuhn stood and asked them to sit at their table. “Tell me more, Herr Aberbach.”

“My father is a coal miner and, in recent years, has found a new calling as a grape farmer close to Niagara Falls. He is a veteran of the first big war and wants to live out his life amind the grapes. He was sorry to see me go but did not stop me when I told him it was my destiny.”

“In what way, young man?”

“I want to restore Germany’s prestige in the world. I want to be part of that. I believe in the Fuhrer and his great dream.”

“Not everyone in Germany shares your opinion about Hitler,” said Kuhn.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Herr Kuhn. I am prepared to die for the Fuhrer and Germany.”

“I understand you will be leaving the ship in Hamburg. So are we.”He reached into his vest pocket and produced his card. “Take my card and see me when you reach Hamburg. I’ll be expecting you.”

Jacob nodded to Rhinehart and stood. “Thank you for introducing us to your distinguished father, Isabella.” They turned and headed out of the dining room.

“It seems you’ve made quite an impression on the old fellow. But I would not share your beliefs and ambitions to everyone. Just be careful.”

They passed by the bar and saw one of the guests shouting at the guests at a nearby table. They entered, stood on either side of the man, and edged him away from the table and to the deck. He shook them off and started for the door, but Rhinehart gripped his arm and seated him on a bench outside the bar.

“You’re manhandling me, young man. If you don’t stop, you won’t live to regret it. He reached into his jacket pocket and pointed a gun at them. Jacob froze. Rhinehart knocked the gun out of his hand and gripped him until the man settled down.

“Help me to my cabin, he said and began crying. “All I wanted to do was to kiss the lady. “

They dragged him down the stairs to his cabin, where Jacob searched the man’s pockets for his key. They undressed him and helped him lie down on his bed. Jacob covered him, threw his key on the table, turned off the light and left.

“Remind me never to get into an argument with you,” said Jacob with a smile. “You handled that like an old pro. I have to admit I was scared out of my wits when he produced that gun. With a drunk, you’re never sure what they’ll do. Now we need to go back to the bar and offer that couple this gentleman’s apology.”

The next morning, the captain sent them a message to join him. They weren’t sure whether they were about to be praised or ranked over the coals. “You can never tell with drunks,” said Jacob as they mounted the stairs to the captain’s quarters.

The drunk was thee sitting beside the captain. His face was drawn and grey and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked away from them as they entered.

Captain Drummie sat back. His face looked strained as he told them to take a seat. “Mr. Northcott came to see me about you two, and he wanted to thank you but didn’t know your names.” He looked at Northcott and nodded.

“I don’t know what would have happened if you two didn’t take me to my cabin. I can vaguely remember pulling out my gun, and that’s about all after you two escorted me out of the bar.”

He left shortly after, went to the bar to help him feel better, and bumped into the couple he had accosted the night before. He hung his head as he passed them and turned to see them looking back at him.

The morning sun was strong as the ship changed course and entered choppy waters. A few people were leaning over the railing and vomiting. “We need to go north to go around Denmark before turning south again to Copenhagen. The rough water won’t last long as we sail north. You’ll be able to see the coast of Denmark all the way.”

They saw the Kuhn ladies coming towards them. Jacob stopped them. “It’s going to be a bit rough for a while, but if you wait another hour, it will be smooth sailing.”

“If you can take it, we’re sure we can,” said Isabella as she passed them.

Just about everyone else had deserted the desk except for an elderly couple strolling the deck. Spray covered the older man’s face, but he

shook it off and resumed singing in a voice heard above the waves crashing against the ship. He suddenly slipped on the wet deck, tried to grab the railing and dropped to the deck. Rhinehart rushed to his side and helped him to his feet. But the look on the older man’s face suggested great pain. He tried to take a step forward but fell into Rhinehart’s arms.

“It’s my hip, and I think I broke it or something else when I fell,” he said in a weak voice.

Rhinehart picked him up and walked him to the first hatch, and took a sideways step inside. The man’s wife led them to their cabin and opened the door. The cabin was much larger than Rhinehart’s and had a large window that showed the dark blue waters outside and land ahead. The bed was much larger than his, and a two-seater sofa lined the wall opposite.

Rhinehart lay him down gently. “I think your husband needs a doctor. I’ll stay with him in case he gets worse.”

The man’s wife, a woman in her 60s with white hair and a face that could still turn heads, paused at the door.

“Just ask the first officer you see, and he’ll take you there.”

She returned five minutes later with the ship’s doctor and Jacob, who had a puzzled look on his face. The man grimaced and moaned as the doctor stood over him. “What happened?”

“He and his wife were strolling on the deck, and it was wet from the spray, and he slipped. I helped him to his feet and found I needed to be carried to his cabin. The rest, you know.”

The doctor removed the older man’s trousers. “What is your age, sir?” said the doctor as he saw the swelling on his right hip. He touched it gently and saw that it was turning purple.

“He’s 67,” said his wife, peering over the doctor’s shoulder.

The doctor nodded to Jacob. “He needs to be moved to the dispensary.”

“What do you think , doc?”

“Your hip has been broken, and we need to set it the best we can and put you in a cast.”

“I warned him it was not fit for strolling, but no, he knew best.”

“I’m an old sea dog and have walked a lot of decks worse than that,” he said in a loud voice.

Later, when Rhinehart returned to his cabin, he wrote a long letter to his mother and father. He found stationery and envelopes in the desk, a bottle of ink, and a long wood pen that came with a nib.

“Liebe Mutter, he began and poured out himself to her, telling her about all the people he met and that had spent only five cents so far. “I am

working on an ocean liner until we reach Hamburg, where I will leave the ship and seek my fortune. Tell Fader I miss him very much and will write him when I get to Hamburg.”

He waited for the ink to dry, inserted the two pages into the envelope, and addressed it. He left his cabin to find Jacob. “I have written a letter to my mother. Can I send it on the ship?”

“You can if you’re a paying passenger. Your best bet is to post it in Copenhagen. We’ll be docking there late tomorrow. I’ll show you where so that you don’t get lost.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I’m sorry to see you leaving the ship. You’ve been a blessing to the ship and me,” said Captain Drimmie, reaching into his pocket and passing him a ten-pound English note. “You’ve earned it.” Then, after a pause, “if you ever change your mind, remember the ship’s name. You’ll be welcome as one of the shop’s officers, right up there, with your friend, Jacob.”

Drummie and Jacob saw him to the pier and waved to him as he walked away. Rhinehart took one last look behind, waved to them, slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out from the port area and down a street with tall large buildings that blocked out the afternoon sun. He was on the road to his destiny, and that was all that mattered now.

He walked for hours, through a park with a fountain, where he drank the water, and down long rows of houses. It was getting dark, and he was getting hungry and stopped at the first bakery he found.

An older man and a young woman stood behind the counter. Rinehart looked at the bread and buns. The smell reminded him of his mother taking out pans of bread from the oven and how it made his stomach come alive.

The older man looked him over, spotting the bag hanging from his shoulder, as the young woman passed him a dozen rolls. “We also sell ham and beef cuts that would go well with the buns.”

Rhinehart nodded, and the young woman came from behind the

counter and escorted him to a small table next to the wall. She also brought along a large mug of coffee, and Rhinehart smiled and thanked her.

“You speak German with an accent,” she said to him when she returned to refill his mug.

“Yes. I come from Canada. My parents are German, and I learned German from talking to them.”

Her face lit up. “Why have you come to Hamburg?”

“I am answering the call of the Fatherland.”

Other patrons came and left before the older man came to sit with him. “I heard what you said to my daughter.” Then, after a pause, “if you do not have a place to stay yet, we would be pleased to help you find shelter where you will be safe.”

Rhinehart remembered what Herr Kuhn had told him – that not everyone shared his vision – and debated whether to trust the older man.

“My son is a member of the Hitler youth,” said the older man. He was given a special badge by the Fuhrer himself at a recent rally.”

Rhinehart left when they closed shop and followed them to the older man’s home a short distance away. They occupied the bottom floor of a two-story house. The older man’s wife let them in. “You’re late tonight, Nils.” She looked Rhinehart over. “And who is this stray cat?”

“Someone who has answered the call to the Fatherland all the way from Canada.”

He opened the door wider and led them into the parlour. The first thing Rhinehart noticed was the large portrait of Hitler and a picture of German troops marching into Austria.

“You can sleep on the sofa,” said Nils’s wife in a motherly tone. She returned and brought in a thick pillow and a small pillow. When she left, he took off his clothes and folded them next to his bed before turning off the lamp above his head.

He had the soundest sleep he had since leaving his home. He dreamed of his mother and the others sitting in the kitchen talking about him. He woke once when he thought he heard something stirring in the room before drifting off again.

Nils’s wife woke him up. It was around seven o’clock. “Did you get a good sleep?” she said as she entered the kitchen. Rhinehart gathered his clothes and went into the bathroom, where he could wash, shave and comb his hair.

She returned to the parlour and made up the sofa. “Your breakfast is waiting for you in the kitchen. Rhinehart sat down as she poured him a coffee and placed a large bowl and a mug of black coffee in front of him. She

stood at the door, watched him disappear around the corner with his bag slung over his shoulder and went back into the house with a smile.

Rhinehart was lost and felt into his jacket pocket for the card Herr Kuhn had given him and studied the address carefully before stopping an older man and asking him where Altonaer Strasse was.

“It’s a bit of a walk. Keep going down this strasse and turn right on Max Bauer Alee and then onto Altonaer Strasse. There’s a park there. You can’t miss it.”

He found Max Bauer Allee easily enough but got mixed up when he became hungry and stopped at a small diner and ordered a sandwich and coffee. The young man at the counter passed him the food, and he dug into his trouser pockets to find a note to pay him. That’s when he discovered his German marks and even the English ten-pound note were missing. He unslung his bag and searched inside for the money he had saved and the 100 dollars his mother had given him.

“My money was stolen by a couple who gave me a place to sleep last night. Jacob’s words came back to haunt him. Sorry.” He turned to go, but the young man tapped on the counter and shoved the sandwich and coffee toward him.

When he left, he made his way down the street. When he came to 77, he went up the steps and knocked on the door. A few minutes later, an older woman answered the door. Rhinehart smailed at her, “My name is Rhinehart Aberbach. He passed her Khun’s card. Herr Khun asked me to call upon him.”

She raised a finger.” I will see if Herr Khun is receiving guests.” She closed the door. When it opened, Isabella Khun was standing there smiling at him. “Please come in, Herr Aberbach. My father was asking about you just this morning.” She pushed back her blond hair and took him by the arm into the front room. She squeezed his arm for the second time and gave him another smile. “Please wait until I tell my father you’re here.”

Isabella helped her father to the front room. Rheinhart stood, shook his hand, and helped him to his chair in front of the sofa, where Isbaella had placed him. He had arthritis in his left leg and normally walked with a cane.

“As you can see, I’m finally in Hamburg and ready to join the German army. I thought I would consult with you before I made up my mind. I also thought about the Luftwaffe.”

Julius Khun nodded wisely. “Have you considered the SS? One of the Fuhrer’s special, elite groups that was formed to protect the Reich from enemies inside and outside. I have friends there who would like to meet

you.” He glanced at Isabella, who was sitting next to Rhinehart. “Get Col. Hartmann on the phone and bring the phone to me. Isabella rose and dialled Hartmann’s number. “Col. Hartmann, it’s Isabella Khun. My father would like to talk to you.”

He passed the phone to her father and returned to sit beside Rhinehart again. “Hoffmann, I’ve got an ideal recruit for your group. We met him while we were returning to Hamburg on a passenger liner. He was one of the crew and was working his way to Germany. His family comes from Canada, and he is answering the call to the Fatherland. I’d like you to see him. When can he come to see you?”

“I’m swamped today, Julius. Heinrich Himmler is due here tonight, and we’re busy getting ready to receive him. He will be gone the day after tomorrow. Bring him along then.”

“He is getting ready for a visit from Heinrich Himmler, who arrives tonight but would like to see us on Thursday. In case you do not know, Heinrich Himmler is head of the SS.” He turned to Isabella. Ask Hilda to make up the spare bedroom for our guest and that there will be a guest for dinner.”

“That is very kind of you, Mr. Khun. I stayed last night at the home of a restaurant owner who claimed to be an ardent supporter of the new Germany and Herr Hitler. On my way here, I discovered they had stolen all my money – the money I had earned, what my mother had given me and even the ten-pound English note.”

“Do you recall the man’s name?”

“Just his first name. I learned that from his wife. They never told me their last name.”

The front room had a large cabinet where Frau Khun stored her best china, which gleamed from the sunlight. Lace curtains covered the four large windows. In addition to the sofa, there was a second larger sofa against the wall opposite, fronted by an end table. An Indian carpet covered the floor. There was a large picture of Hitler and a number of paintings by Hamburg artists on the walls. The room was mainly used to greet important guests and for one of Julius Khun’s soirées.

His hands started to sweat when he walked up the steps to the SS office, past the two pillars on each side of the main entrance and through the doors with Khun. The guards, dressed in black uniforms and armed with rifles, stood at attention as Khun walked by.

Captain Kruger was waiting for them as they passed the information

desk. Kruger was tall and broad-shouldered and walked with a swagger. He carried his hat beneath his arm as he led them to Hartmann’s office. Franz Hartmann rose and opened the door for them. Kruger clicked his heels and left. He glanced at Rhinehart quickly as he waved them to a seat in front of his deck.

“So this is the young man you were talking about.” Hartmann spoke in a smooth, even voice that people liked. He turned to Rhinehart. “What do you know about the SS?” His voice suddenly turned cold.

“Only what Herr Khun has told me – that you protect Germany from its enemies outside and inside. I had thought about joining the army or the airforce. He suggested I think about the SS before making up my mind.”

“How do we know you are not a spy? You speak with an accent.”

Rhinehart stood. “I have not answered the call of the Fatherland to be insulted. I don’t care who you are. I am here to return Germany to its former glory and to support the Fuhrer in every way I can to achieve that.”

The anger in his face and voice made Hartmann smile. “What do you think about the Fuhrer’s policies?”

“Some I like and some I don’t. But if it means returning Germany to its glory, I will do exactly what is expected of me. But right now, I’m not certain I want to be part of the SS if that is how you treat your people, and I want to be part of an organization that supports the people fighting for it.”

Rhinehart stood and looked at Herr Khun. “Sorry.”

“Sit down, Aberbach. We are not finished with you yet and cool off. We are looking for recruits like you, especially people who can become officers in short order.”

Hartmann looked at Khun. “you were right, Julius.” He then turned to Rhinehart and pressed a buzzer on the right side of his desk. Captain Kruger stuck his head inside the door. “Take this young man and sign him up before he decides to join the army. And have him report in the morning to be measured for his uniform. And make sure he gets to know what the SS is all about and what we expect of him before he goes through all the physical training for recruits.”

Rhinehart stood and was about to follow Kruger out when Hartmann stopped him. “Just remember that when you sign the recruitment papers, we own you, all of you, every stick and barrel of you. There’s no going back.”

Rhinehart smiled and left with Kruger. The room was filled with typists and other junior officers. In the room at the back, several recruits dressed in the SS’s dark green uniform were attending a lecture. They stopped at Kruger’s desk, where Rhinehart was given a form to fill in and sign. He sat on

a chair next to Kruger’s desk and read the document carefully. Rhinehart thought about his mother and what she would think of seeing him do this. He signed the form and passed it to Kruger.

“You are now a member of the SS, and that means you must obey every order a superior officer gives you. Any questions?”

Rhinehart could hear his heart pounding as he stood.

“Report to me at seven o’clock in the morning.”

***

Rhinehart had the surprise of his life when he and Julius Khun returned to Altonaer Strasse. Isabella and her sister pinned red and green streamers from the corners of the front room and ordered a special meal for him. Several of their friends suddenly appeared and took their place at the table. They were all about his age and introduced themselves as they took their seats.

The main filled their glasses as each stood and toasted to his good fortune. Isabella looked at him with a bright smile.

The table started singing German songs Rhinehart did not know and did his best to join in to everyone’s laughter. The biggest surprise came after the third course when Isabella and the maid brought in a three-layer cake with sparklers. The young woman kissed his cheek, and the young men shook his hand. They all toasted his good fortune again as the party ended.

Julius sat in his chair at the head of the dining room table and had to be helped to his feet by his daughters. Isabella helped him up the stairs and returned to escort Rhinehart to his room. She lingered as she helped him unpack his clothes for his visit to SS Headquarters in the morning.

“Dress in your oldest clothes. You’ll never see them again once you start wearing a uniform. We’ll keep your best clothes for you.”

She suddenly stood, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips in a way no one had ever done before.

Chapter Fifteen

Kay looked out the window to see Bruce Seeley’s car stop outside. It was the late afternoon she was getting supper ready. She looked again to see May open the car door and lead her father inside.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we were on our way back from St. Catharines, and my father thought it would be nice to see you all again. So do I.” She paused to see how Kay and Grete were taking their arrival and saw Grete wipe a tear from her eye.

“I miss you all. I am sorry for my foolishness, but you say and do stupid things when you’re young. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t, and I don’t know what to do about it.” She started crying. Crete took her into her arms and rubbed her back. “I want to be here most of all. To be in the place where Rhinehart lived so much of his life. I don’t blame him for anything.”

Bruce Seeley cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to do. She cries all day and talks about killing herself and the baby.”

Grete gave him a startled look and shook her head.

“Could she stay with you and your family until the baby is born? I would gladly pay whatever you’d like. I would not like to lose her.”

Grete looked at Kay and her mother, who nodded. Grete opened her arms and hugged her. She held May in her arms and looked at Seeley. “She is welcome here for as long as she likes, and there will be no charge of any kind.”

“You’re starting to really show,” said Kay, holding May back before hugging her.

Bruce Seeley held her close to him before turning to leave. “I’ll bring her clothes tomorrow if you have no objections.”

“You’re welcome, Bruce.”

Konrad, Hugh and Karl were met at the door by Grete. “We have com-

pany who’s going to be with us for a while.”

May was sitting next to Grete at the table when they entered the kitchen to wash up at the kitchen sink.

“Her father is worried about her and asked if we could look after her until she gives birth,” said Kay. “She’s very depressed and talking about killing herself.”

Konrad sat down next to her. “You’re welcome. You bring back memories of Rhinehart when I see you.”

Hugh reached up for the Brandy bottle and poured each of them a shot.

“None for May,” said Kay, not while she’s expecting.”

“Speaking of Rhinehart, have you received a letter from him? Do you know where he is and if he is safe?” said May with a spoon of pudding in her hand.”

“One letter so far. He mailed it from Denmark. He was working on a passenger liner and planned to leave the ship in Hamburg,” said Grete. “You can read it after supper.”

Karl helped her up to his mother’s room, where she would sleep until she had the baby. Konrad took over Rhienhart’s bed with Karl. After supper, they went into the parlour to listen to the radio. The CBC had just come on air, and they could hear music, the news, and even plays. May listened until Grete and Karl went to bed. Grete helped her upstairs.

May held Rhinehart’s letter to her chest and wanted to sleep with it. Grete understood and helped her get into bed and covered her.

“Do you think he will come back to us?” she asked in the darkness.

“With Rhinehart, you never know. He likes chasing rainbows. He may well find that the brightest rainbows are waiting here for him.”

The next morning Hank Lawson was pounding on their door before anyone was awake. Hugh heard it first and ran downstairs to see Hank’s face at the door, and he opened it.

“Get everyone up. We need every available hand. The aphids are attacking the vineyard in every area.”

Hugh ran upstairs and roused Karl and Konrad. “Hank needs all of us in a real hurry. The aphids are attacking the vineyard in the thousands, and if we don’t stop them, they will eat up this year’s harvest.”

“What’s required?” said Kay.

“Not sure.”

Kay dressed in slacks that had become too tight for her and had not been worn in years. She looked among Hugh’s old overalls and chose one from his coal mining days. Hugh laughed as soon as he saw her and tucked

her blouse inside. She walked beside Hugh, Konrad and Karl as they made their way to Hank Lawson’s home. His son was out in front, preparing a mixture of soapy water with some alcohol and filling tanks with it. He looked at Kay suspiciously but didn’t say anything.

They strapped the tanks on their backs except for Kay, who found it a bit heavy for her. “It will be lighter,” said Hugh, “once you start spraying. Go back and get a new tank when your tank is dry.”

“Do we get a rest period?”

“Lunch. And even then, it won’t be for very long.” He patted her behind and left her to work on the bottom layer of vines while he climbed the sloping hill to spray the topmost vines. When he finished, he found her sitting on the ground and rubbing her back.

An hour later and two more tanks sprayed, Kay could hear Hank shouting “lunchtime.” Hugh carried her back to the homestead and laid her on a wide canvass where the cook had placed the food.

“I’m so tired, I don’t have the energy to eat,” she said, stretching out and closing her eyes. “There’s a few more hours left in you’re of a mind to carry on.” She woke three hours later and saw Hank sitting beside her.

She tried to stand and felt weak. “I think I had better wait for Hugh to come back. I hope they’re supper,” she added.

“There will be.”

“Thank heavens,” said Kay. “I’m sure Hugh and Konrad will be worn out by that time.”

“It’s best I drove you home. Your husband and others will continue using lanterns and flashlights after supper and into the night. The aphids eat morning, noon and night and the faster we kill them, the sooner everyone can go home and get a good rest.”

Hank dropped her off and went straight back to the farm. Kay walked slowly to the door and sat down at the table. Grete helped her take off the overalls and made supper for her.

“Hugh and Konrad will not be coming home for supper. They have to work over the night without stopping.” Kay ate supper, and Grete helped her to bed.

Hugh, Konrad and Karl appeared around four o’clock and slept on the floor, waking up with the smell of bacon and toast. They staggered to their feet and prepared to leave as soon as they had eaten breakfast. Hank came by an hour later to pick them up just as Kay appeared in the doorway, dressed in a new blouse and the same overalls.

Hank didn’t say a word and helped her into his car. “You’ve got spunk, lady,” he whispered in her ear as she strapped on the tank of soapy water

and sat next to Hugh as Hank’s son drove them to where they had left off earlier. She jumped off the truck and pulled Hugh with her. She could tell that he was tired by the lines on his face. They worked steadily until noon. Hank’s son picked them up along with Karl and Konrad and headed back to the homestead.

They feasted on steak and baked potatoes and Rasberry pie and lay on the grass to rest up for the afternoon. Back at the vineyard, Kay could tell that Hugh and Konrad were more tired than they would admit and had to be carried to the truck at supper time.

During the evening, Kay found she could spot the aphids by fluttering their fluffy white wings and helped Hugh finish the spraying. She discovered they could increase the number of vines they sprayed by working as a team. After midnight, Hank helped each of them up on the back of the truck.

“Let’s call it a day. I’ll drive you back home and get a good sleep. Tomorrow, we should see the end of the aphids. You’ve saved this tear’s harvest and will receive a bonus this year.” He looked at Kay. “You, too.”

In late September, Hank Lawson had a heart attack on his way to church. His car crashed into a telephone pole, killing him instantly. He had made a lot of friends throughout the Niagara area as well as the Premier. His funeral was held a week later. There was standing room only in the crowd overflowing the funeral home, who waited until the service was over and laid flowers on his coffin as the pallbearers passed them outside.

Kay was wiping her eyes as she followed the crowd outside with Hugh and Konrad. Grete stayed home to look after May, who was nearing her term.

“I can’t believe it,” said Hugh to Hank’s son. “He looked so great last week when we finished the harvest.”

David Lawson bowed his head. “He was larger than life. Everyone loved him.” A young woman made her way to him and embraced him. “This is my sister, Eileen, who lives in Montreal. Neither of us can quite get used to the feeling that we can’t talk to him anymore.”

“What will happen now?” said Konrad.

“The farm will continue, and I hope you will continue to be with us. But I must tell you, none of us want to operate the farm. We plan to sell it.” Then, after a short pause, “if you two would like to buy it, I’m sure we could arrange a mortgage for you. Think about it and let me know before

the end of the week.”

Konrad looked at Hugh, and they both nodded. “How much money are we talking about?”

“The last appraisal was for 60,000 dollars. That was a year ago. But I’m prepared to sell it to you at that price, and I know that’s what my father would have wanted.”

Hugh smiled at Konrad. “Get the papers prepared, and let us know when you’d like us to come and sign them.”

Later, when they were having supper, Hugh announced that he and Konrad were going to buy the farm.

“How much money are we talking about?” said Kay.

“Sixty thousand dollars,” announced Konrad.

Grete was holding her face and shaking her head. I never knew there was that much money in the world.”

“We will be paying it off over 30 years. Sooner if we are able to. That’s 2,000 dollars a year. The harvests should bring in far more than that.”

The following week, David Lawson had all the papers on the table and explained what they were signing with each document. “The last document is the mortgage. You know the terms laid out in it, and I would like each of you to read it carefully. Hugh, Konrad and Kay each read and signed it.

“Do any of you know how to keep business books?”

They looked at him with blank faces.

“Then I would like one of you to spend a couple of days with me to learn how to keep the books.”

“Do we really need them?” said Kay.

“There are taxes to be paid, and you also need to know if you’re making money or losing money.”

“I’d like to learn,” said Kay.

“When would you like to learn?”

“Right now, if that’s convenient.”

David Lawson opened the side drawer of his father’s desk and found his father’s accounts book. He then waved her to sit beside him as he turned over a number of pages.

“Memorize these two terms – Debit and credit. Each page is either a Debit or a Credit page. Every time you sell grapes, you will write down everything you have to pay taxes or buy bags or fertilizer on the debit page. You write down the amount on a credit page.”

This went on until Kay’s head was whirling with numbers. David had provided her with a pad and pencil to write down what he was telling her.

“In the next two lessons, we will cover how my father did it. If you copy what he did, you will be fine.”

***

On Thanksgiving Day, May went into labour. Kay’s mother, a midwife to several other women, including Kay, took charge and had Grete and Kay help her. Hugh, Konrad and Karl were told to stay in the kitchen no matter what they heard.

Peggy was visiting friends for the afternoon and entered just as May screamed. She could hear May sobbing even downstairs, and Hugh stopped her from going upstairs. “May is having her baby now, and we are to wait until the baby has come.”

Peggy shivered. “I don’t think I’ll ever have a baby.”

Hugh looked for his Brandy bottle and saw there was not much left. He shook his head at Konrad. “I have some Schnapps upstairs.”

The room upstairs suddenly went silent, and 15 minutes later, Kay and Grete emerged from the room and went downstairs. “May has a beautiful baby girl,” she announced.

“We must call her parents and let them know,” said Kay, who went to the phone.

“We’ll be there within the hour,” said MaryBeth and hung up. Thirty minutes later, they heard Bruce Seeley’s car stop outside and car doors slamming as they walked to the door and knocked.

“Can I see her?” said MaryBeth.

“She’s sleeping now, but I know she will want to see you,” said Kay. “In the meantime, let’s celebrate.” She reached to open the cabinet to find the Brandy bottle almost empty. She moved one of the chairs to the cabinet and stood on it, feeling her way until she found the Brandy bottle she had hidden for times like these.

Hugh poured everyone a shot and raised his glass to May and her new baby. The others stood and joined him.

“We must also save some for May. She has earned it today,” said Kay as Hugh refilled the shot glasses of the others.

“Has she decided on a name for the baby yet?” said Marybeth.

“I’m not sure,” said Kay, “but whatever it is, she will always be known as the Thanksgiving baby.”

Everyone laughed and did not hear the ringing of the phone. Kay thought she heard it and went to the parlour, but whoever it was had hung up.

Chapter Sixteen

Rhinehart loved everything about the SS – their uniforms, weapons and their creed but most of all, Heinrich Himmler, whom he admired enormously. To Rhinehart, Himmler was everything the Fuhrer needed now to make Germany strong again.

He was surprised when he heard one of the other recruits make fun of Himmler and how he walked and the way Himmler walked and how he used his crop to make a point.

“Heinrich Himmler is a great man and does not deserve your ridicule,” Rhinehart shouted.

The barrack room suddenly went silent. His imitator stood three steps forward. “And who is going to stop me?”

“If you do this one more time, I will make you regret it.”

The imitator started to strut, but now no one laughed. All eyes were now on Rhinehart, who walked to him and knocked him to the floor. The imitator tried to get to his feet, but Rhinehart used his knee to send him flying across the room.

One of the officers who had been watching the scene stepped in at this point. “There will be no more brawls in your barracks.” He turned to Rhinehart. “You,” he said, pointing at him, “follow me.”

They left the barracks and into the commanding officer’s office. “I just stopped a brawl in the barracks. One of the recruits was making fun of Herr Himmler, and this individual made him stop. I thought you might want to know about this.”

Rhinehart was out on a watch list after that. One of the officers was detailed to see how he interacted with the other recruits, who had grown to respect him and be careful what they said around him. Rhinehart always did things to perfection and obeyed orders exactly.

By the time their training period ended, Himmler had heard of the inci-

dent and made a point of attending Rhinehart’s graduation class. Himmler sat in the front row and had one of the officers point out Rhinehart to him. He tapped his knee for one of the officers to bend down. “Send recruit Aberbach to me when the ceremony is over.”

Rhinehart saluted and stood at attention as Himmler looked him over. He took his crop and whacked him across the knees. Rhinehart didn’t flinch. “If I ordered you to kill one of your classmates, would you obey me?”

“I will do whatever you decide.”

“Then take my pistol and shoot the first cadet, you see.” He passed the gun to Rhinehart, who took the pistol and saluted before turning and heading for the door. He had walked only 20 steps when one of the officers stopped him and ordered him back to Himmler’s office.

“I’d like my gun back before you do anything.”

Rhinehart passed the gun back to Himmler.

“That will be all, Aberbach.”

When Rhinehart had left, Himmler stopped on his way to the airfield and told the camp’s commanding officer, “send Aberbach to officer’s training and keep me posted on his progress.”

The training for Germany’s future officers was far different. He had someone to press his trousers and iron his shirts. He was also required to wear a shirt and tie to classes. The camp’s dining room had a white tablecloth, and wine was served at the evening meal.

As an officer of the SS Waffen, he enjoyed enormous respect. Even when he went to restaurants, he was treated with respect. Orderlies were already calling him SS-Fuhrer, giving him a feeling of importance.

It was reinforced by the camp’s commanding officer, who let him know Himmler was watching his progress so that it did not come as a surprise when he was chosen to lead a group in the invasion of Czechoslovakia. It was a chance that would change everything for him, and he knew it. His entry at the head of his group through the streets of Prague thrilled him. Everything seemed peaceful until he saw a burning torch headed directly at him. He took his rifle, batted it away, and ordered four of his men to find out who threw the torch and bring him in for questioning.

They arrived at the building that had been set up for them. He had stood throughout his drive-through and streets, jumped off his car, and headed into the tall, imposing building that awaited him. Two SS guards raised their guns in salute as he walked past them.

A junior officer was waiting for him and escorted him to his office. The office was large, with huge wide windows that lit up the room. He sat in the chair behind his desk and smiled. His dream was coming true. The floor had an oriental rug, and there were paintings by local artists on all the walls. He ordered most of them removed. “Replace them with a large picture of the Fuhrer and a picture of Himmler as soon as possible.”

The door opened. “We have the culprit who tried to kill you on your way here,” said the Sargeant who had been in his class during his early training.

Rhinehart shook his head. “Let him sweat in the cells for a day or two without food, and then bring him to me.”

He looked up to see the Sargeant still standing there. “We also have the ring leader of the protest movement. What shall I do with her?”

“I’ll see her two days from now. Right now, Sergeant, I need to get my bearings and know my enemy before seeing them.”

He looked at his assistant, a junior officer he met during his officer training, a young man with blue eyes and a thin body. He was trying to grow a mustache and kept pulling it when he was nervous.

“Do you have a list of Prague people on our side? Send out a squad and have them bring me four or five supporters.”

The following day, the junior officer escorted five prominent Prague citizens. Rhinehart ordered coffee for everyone and had them sit in chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of his desk.

“Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I would like you to suggest ways we could peacefully make Prague accept us and help them understand they will become an even greater and more prosperous country under German leadership.” Rhinehart had memorized what he would say the night before and scanned their faces for reaction.

There was silence after he finished and checked their reaction with a smile.”We are depending on leaders like yourself to lead the way.”

“For one thing,” said an old man in a faint voice, “there are too many German flags to remind us we are a conquered country.”

“Checkoslovakian flags will not be permitted to be flown. But we shall temper the use of the German flag until everyone gets used to it.” He scanned their faces again. “We also need your help rounding up dissenters trying to poison the minds of other citizens. Can you help us with that?”

They all nodded, except the older man, who cleared his throat. “They already know who we stand for and will not help us.”

“We do know,” said a short man, who stood behind the others, “that someone is planning to kill Reinhard Heydrich.”

“The Gestapo head in Prague?” said Reinhart. “Does he know?”

“I would be surprised if he did not,” said the man in the back. “He thinks he’s beyond anyone’s reach and ignores what his advisers tell him.”

The next few months rolled by without any major incidents. Reinhart forgot all about Heydrich and focused on going after the anti-German crowd picking off some of his men without warning. “We need to capture one of them, find out who their friends are, and go after them. Put together a special squad to do nothing else but tracking these people down.”

A month later, he received a call from Rhinehart Heydrich. His deep gravelly voice sent shivers up Rhinehart’s back. “I would appreciate a faceto-face meeting with you alone.”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“There is a small hotel not far from my office that I can reach by taking my back door. I suggest you go there with two or three of your associates and have lunch there. I have a ticklish problem you might be able to help me with. Could we meet around two o’clock? You will find me in Room 205.”

Heydrich opened the door and nodded for Rhinehart to enter. There were only the two of them. Once they were settled on the sofa, Heydrich offered him a cigarette, and they began talking.

“I have a ticklish problem I need your help with. Himmler is threatening to come to Prague one of these days. I have assured him that it is completely safe. You know, and I know it is anything but. I would like you to meet him at the train station and give him a tour of the city before bringing him to my office.”

“I can’t guarantee that there won’t be a few people out there ready to kill him if given a chance.”

“I’m known as the butcher of Prague. People hate me but don’t know you and are more likely to ignore Himmler’s visit. It’s me they are out to kill.”

Rhinehart nodded. “Keep me posted.” He rose and returned to the dining room and his men. “I think he’s got a lady stashed somewhere,” Rhinehart heard one of them say. They stopped laughing as he appeared around the corner. “Time to go, gentlemen.”

***

One of his men came into his office. “We’ve picked up some static about Heydrich, and we believe there will be an attempt to kill him when he boards his car to go to his hotel. Should we alert his office?

Rhinehart shook his head. “I want men on the street near his office,

particularly hotels, where a sniper could kill him. Or throw a gasoline bomb into his open car. I want cars on either side of him, in front and behind, and a man on each floor of the hotel across the street, armed and ready to capture any shooter. Capture them alive if possible. If Heydrich questions you, tell him you are acting on my orders. Also, have a couple of our snipers around his office with their eyes on the hotel’s windows opposite his office.”

Reinhart hid in the bushes around Heydrich’s office, with his eyes glued to the hotel windows. A sniper spotted one of the windows open on the seventh floor of the hotel and fired at the figure in the window. Heydrich suddenly appeared and walked to his waiting car. His driver opened the back door for him, returned to the front, and started the engine.

Heydrich turned to see Rhinehart looking up at the hotel. “What’s this about, Aberbach?”

Heydrich was a handsome man with a thin oval face and a smile that would charm everyone he met. His eyes were cold, and he waited for Rhinehart to respond.

Rhinehart walked to his car. “We had a last-minute word that someone was planning to assassinate you. We thought we could protect you best if you did not know, as you just witnessed.”

Heydrich’s cold eyes made him feel uneasy. “In the future, I expect you to keep me posted.” He turned his head and tapped his driver on the shoulder.

Rhinehart went across the street with four men and entered the hotel. He spotted an old elevator in the lobby and wondered if it worked. It was slow; five minutes later, they opened the door on the seventh floor. Rhinehart spotted one of his men holding his rifle over a man on the floor.

“I saw him come out of the door like a greased bolt of lightning and run towards me. I ordered him to stop or I would shoot. He dropped his rifle and pointed a pistol at me, and I shot him in the right leg. He fell and has been moaning ever since.”

“Good work,” said Rhinehart, patting the young soldier on the back. “I see he’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get a stretcher and a doctor up here on the double.”

Dr. Kraus wrapped his stethoscope around his neck. “Your prize patient is recovering well. He’s young and will come around before you know it.” Dr.Kraus was in his early 50s and attached to his Rhinehart’s union. His hair showed streaks of grey, and his bushy grey eyebrows, made him look older than he was. He spoke with a soft voice, and his light blue eyes looked tired. “You’ll be able to question him before the week is out.”

He decided to post two guards at his door and question anyone who wanted to visit their prisoner. Rhinehart was pleased about himself, and he now had a member of the opposition under lock and key, someone who could lead them to others.

The word about him saving Heydrich had got around, and everyone in the office congratulated him. Near the end of the day, there was a call from Himmler. “I hear Heydrich’s nose is out of joint when he should be thanking you for saving his life. Keep up the good work.”

He slept soundly that night and dreamed of his mother and how she cried when he said goodbye to her and his father. There must be a way to reach them on the phone. He would ask his communications team how to make it happen.

It was already mid-August, and things were beginning to heat up. There was a lot of traffic on the roads and trucks carrying soldiers north. He had met twice with his prisoner, who refused to give his name and friends’ names.

“A bit of torture might loosen his tongue,” said one of the Sargeants. It went against Rhinehart’s grain, and he knew instinctively what his mother would think. “A week or so without food of any kind might do the trick better. Let’s give that a try and see what happens.”

A week later, his prisoner had to be helped into Rhinehart’s office. “Please take a seat.” His prisoner sat in front of Rhinehart, who was eating a steak with potatoes and gravy. One of the soldiers stood behind the prisoner’s chair.

Rhinehart cut off a piece of steak and had one of the other soldiers take it to the prisoner. “Please join me. I hate to eat alone.”

The prisoner, a young man with dark brown hair and hunger in his dark brown eyes, took the plate. His hand shook as he tried to bite on the steak. His clothes were dirty and smelled. He chewed slowly to make each mouthful last longer.

“You were about to tell me your name when we first met. You look like a young man who could make a great name with the SS. I’d like you to think about it.”

The prisoner’s hands shook as he put the plate in the hands of the soldier and tried to raise himself from the chair.

Chapter Seventeen

Peggy answered the phone. “I need to talk to your mother,” said the voice. She passed the phone to her mother. “Auntie Kay, it’s me, Rhinehart. I cannot talk long. I want to talk to my mother.”

Kay cried out for Grete. “It’s Rhinehart, Grete.”

Grete’s hand shook as she put the receiver to her ear. “Is it really you, Rhinehart?”

“How wonderful to hear your voice. I have been promoted and am now an officer of the Waffen SS. That is all I can tell you other than I am strong and healthy and love what I do. And I remember you, Mutter and Fadder, with all my heart. In three months, it will be Christmas, and I will miss you all even more then.”

May, who had heard his name mentioned, stood at the doorway.

“May would like to talk to you. Here she is.”

“Hello, Rhinehart. We all miss you very much. I miss you terribly. I am staying with your parents, and I also had a baby girl who acts exactly like you.”

“Take care of yourself, May. I wish I were there to kiss the baby and you.”

May started to cry and passed the phone back to Grete. “She is like a second daughter to your father and me, Rhinehart, and she’s right. The baby does remind us of you.”

“I must go now, Mutter.”

A second later, the phone went dead. May helped Grete into the kitchen and held her head in her hands as she cried.

Peggy also had news. She tore open the envelope from Hotel Dieu in St. Catharines. She scanned it with a smile that widened on her face. “I’ve been accepted to study to become a nurse.”

Kay wasn’t pleased. Since they had moved into the Lawson home-

stead and all its rooms, Peggy had helped her and Grete put it in order and move all their furnishings to their new home. Kay and her mother didn’t want to part with their old sofa and rocking chair, which soon became a fixture in their new home. The beds and their covers were grander in their new bedrooms. They even set aside Rhinehart’s old bed in a room of his own should be return home. May found solace sitting inside his bedroom and telling his cot the latest family news.

Peggy passed May the letter, who read it with a smile that lit up her face. “I always dreamed of becoming a doctor when I was young. Congratulations. I envy you. When do you report to the hospital? I’d like to go with you,” said May.

“We also need you here,” said Kay. “Our new home is too much for Grete and me to look after ourselves.”

Peggy left the kitchen and went to her room crying.

Grete looked at Kay and tried to comfort her. “She’s not that far away, and I suspect we will see her many weekends before she finishes.”

Kay made her peace with her daughter after Hugh read the letter and congratulated her. “Our family never had a nurse, Peggy. You will be the first, and I know you will make us all very proud of you.”

He glanced at Kay and put his arm around her. “She can always come home any time she feels lonesome. It’s only a short drive away.”

A week later, May’s parents knocked at the door of their new home. “It’s wonderful,” said MaryBeth, glancing at the chandelier that hung from the decorated ceiling as she walked from the front room and into the kitchen lit up with the sun from its four windows.

May had heard their voices from her bedroom and came down with the baby in her arms. Her mother and father looked at her baby and played with her fingers.

“We’ve brought a friend of yours, who would like to see you,” said her father, who left, returning with a young man dressed as an officer of the Canadian army. “He came to visit you yesterday, and I told him you were now living with friends and asked us to bring him to you. We also told him you given birth to his baby.”

He advanced to look at the baby and held out his arms for her. May recoiled and held the baby close to her chest.

“We want to be left alone. You never bothered with me after taking me to Toronto, where you threatened to leave me if I did not stay over with you. I never want to see you again.” She looked to Kay and Grete as if for permission. “I want you to leave here now and never contact me again.”

She turned to her mother and father. “How could you?”

“We thought it was best for you and us. You don’t want to live with us with our grandchild. We miss you very much.”

Bruce Seeley touched his wife’s arm and nodded for them to leave.

“This isn’t the end,” said the army officer at the door. “I have connections and a wife who cannot have children.”

“And we now have the money and powerful friends who have the ear of the Premier,” shouted Konrad as the door slammed behind them.

May still held her baby close and began to cry. “Don’t let him take my child away from me.”

***

“We’ve sold all our table grapes and have two bidders for our wine grapes,” announced Hugh a week later.

“And we not done with the harvesting yet,” added Konrad, who placed a large bag of grapes on the table. They all ate their fill and finished it with a glass of wine.

“All’s that missing is a grape that has no seeds,” said Peggy, spitting out the seeds of the last bunch. “I bet you could charge a lot more for them.”

Kay and Grete looked at them.

“Some of the farms here already have them,” said Peggy.

“Then take some of our earnings and buy some of the vines that produce seedless grapes. Peggy’s right.”

May was rocking the baby in her arms and eating grapes in between. “How do you feel about minding my baby?” she said to Grete.

“Why?” said Kay and Grete together.

“I’ve been thinking. I want to go to Hotel Dieu and apply to learn nursing with Peggy. It’s been in my head ever since Peggy got her letter. ”

“I don’t mind,” said Grete.

“Neither do I,” added Kay. “When do you plan to go?”

“In the morning, if someone will drive me.”

“I will,” said Peggy. “We can study together.”

“I want to return every night. I do not wish to be parted from my baby.”

“I will learn to drive,” said Peggy.

That suited Kay perfectly. It meant she would have her daughter with her every day as well.

Hugh took her out in his car every night until she knew the road rules and how to turn in on-coming traffic. The week before September term started, he took her to St. Catharines to be tested.

Peggy emerged from their car, waving a paper. “I’ve got my licence.”

They returned home to find that Konrad had not returned for supper.

“Something’s happened to him. He’s usually the first person at the table. I’m going out with the tractor and look for him.”

Hugh left his plate untouched and started the tractor, combing the fields, twisting his head in all directions for any sign of him, before heading back to find him lying on the ground with a large gash on the side of his head. He knelt and held Konrad up in his arms and staggered back to the homestead. He kicked the kitchen door, and Kay opened it.

“What in the name of heaven happened?”

“Not sure. Call the doctor and tell him we need him right away. I found him behind the shed on the grass. Hugh carried him to the couch in the front room while Grete filled a basin with hot water and started to wash away the blood.

The doctor arrived 30 minutes later. Dr. Sean O’Neil was still in his early 20s and had a kind, comforting voice that went along with his kind face. He had small hands that checked the wound carefully. Peggy helped him take off his jacket and passed his bag to him.

He rose slowly. “Someone deliberately hit him with a board,” he said, holding up a splinter between his fingers. “Where did you find him?”

“Behind the shed.”

“In the morning, look for a board with blood on it but call the police now. I want to talk to them before I leave.” He reached into his bag. “Give him one of these if he wakes up. The best thing we can do for him now is help him sleep away the pain.”

Hugh went to the phone, called the police, and told them what happened and that Dr. O’Neil wanted to talk to them. Dr. O’Neil held the receiver close to his ear. “A bad cut to the left side of his head. Looks like someone had it in for him and was waiting for him.”

He picked up his bag. “The police will be here shortly. Call me if he worsens in the morning.”

Two constables arrived a few minutes later. They took a quick look at Konrad, sat down with Hugh, and went over every detail, where he searched and where he found him.

“Did you see anyone, anyone at all near your farm?” said the senior constable.

Hugh shook his head. I had just sat down for supper when I noticed Konrad was missing and went looking for him.

“Has he quarrelled with anyone recently?”

“Konrad’s not the type. He likes peace, and in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve ever seen him even argue with someone.”

“Well, someone out there has something against him.” The other con-

stable noticed a fire outside and pointed to the flames.

Hugh and Karl rose, rushed to the shed to wheel out their fire-fighting equipment, and had the fire under control in a matter of minutes.

The two constables helped them return the equipment to the shed. “I think it best if one of us stay behind and make sure you’re not all murdered in your beds. It would appear that your friend is not the target but your farm.”

He went to his car.”We’ll have a team here in the morning. We’ll be searching for anything strange that might suggest who might be behind this.”

Hugh turned on all the lights around the homestead. The other constable ensconced himself in the porch, where he had a wide view of the yard and beyond.

“Who would want to do this to us?” said Kay.

“I know,” said Peggy. “The man who came here and wanted to take May’s baby away from her.” ***

Four constables were at their door around nine o’clock the following morning and began a search of their yard and the area where the vines had been burned. Two of them looked for clues behind the shed.

Hugh decided not to go into the fields and waited for Dr. O’Neil to come and see Konrad, who had a troubled night. Dr. O’Neil went to his bedroom and touched the side of his head. Konrad opened his eyes and winced.

“I’m Dr. O’Neil, Mr. Aberbach. I was here last night when your partner found you behind the shed around supper time. Do you recall what happened to you?”

“Everything is a fog, doctor. I’m in terrible pain. Can you give me something to ease it?”

Dr. O’Neil dipped into his bag and gave him another pill with a sip of water. “This will make you sleep all day and tonight, and you should feel somewhat better tomorrow.”

“Was he able to tell you something?” said the constable who had visited them the previous night.

Dr. O’Neil shook his head. “He’s in too much pain to remember anything right now. I’ve just given him a pill to help him sleep for the next 24 hours.”

Grete was wringing her hands. “Tell me my Konrad will not die.”

“He will be fine. It will just take a week or two before he is.”

Later, when the police were ready to leave, the constable in charge

knocked on their door. “We did find the two-by-four that was used to knock out Mr. Aberbach. We’ll be examining it for further clues and will be patrolling this area every night for a while.”

Peggy told them what she thought. The senior officer smiled, thanked her, and drove back to St. Catharines.

Kay’s mother suggested hiring someone to patrol the farm at night until the police arrested the people involved.

The next night was quiet. Hugh had four ducks from another farmer to patrol the yard in the evening. “If they come again, the ducks will quack so loud that they’ll wake us, and we’ll turn on the lights.”

It worked. The ducks were silent every night after that, and all disturbances stopped.

The senior constable did not like to leave cases unsolved and turned to one of the officers. “That young woman at the farmhouse. She seemed to believe it was caused by someone trying to steal a baby. Find out what she was talking about and if we should investigate.”

Constable Osborne knocked on the door and asked to speak to the young lady who lived there. “ I don’t know her name.”

Kay’s mother closed her robe. “That would be Peggy. What do you want with her? She’s just a young child.”

She left to rouse Peggy, who didn’t feel like opening her eyes. “There’s a constable downstairs asking for you.”

Peggy dressed in a hurry and combed her hair before going to the kitchen. The constable was young and handsome. “How may I help you, constable?”

“You remarked to the senior constable that someone was trying to steal a baby. Can you tell me why you think so?”

Peggy offered him one of her biggest smiles and started.

Chapter Eighteen

Rhinehart was getting ready to leave when the telephone rang, and he picked up the receiver. “ Herr Himmler would like to talk to you.”

“Just to alert you. You’re being replaced at Prague and given a new assignment with the rank of Captain. Pack your belongings and report to me tomorrow afternoon. A plane will be waiting for you at the Prague airport at noon. It will take you to your hotel. A driver has been assigned to take you to our office. ”

“Can you tell me what the assignment will involve?”

“You will learn when you get here and understand why this conversation is secret to everyone else. Do not even tell anyone you are being reassigned.

Rhinehart buzzed his second in command to join him. “I will not be coming into the office for a few days, and I’m placing you in charge of the office in my absence.”

“You’re taking a holiday?”

Rhinehart nodded. When he emerged from his office near the end of the day, he didn’t bother to take his briefcase with him. He paused at the door before leaving. His car was waiting for him and dove him to his hotel, where he spent the evening packing and enjoying a leisurely dinner. Other officers waved to him and invited him to toast the Further, join them at the piano, and sing some popular German tunes. The bluish-grey smoke from cigars floated in the air, and several young women joined them as the evening wore on.

He went to bed in a good mood. The only thing he missed was his mother, and then, out of the blue, he heard May’s voice pleading with him. He shook his head, took a couple of aspirins, and went to sleep.

He woke in the morning with a persistent headache and took two more aspirins. The last thing he needed was a bad headache now of all days. He

shaved and dressed and went down to the dining room for breakfast. He didn’t feel like eating, but he knew instinctively that he would feel better if he did. He forced the eggs and toast down by drinking three cups of coffee. He returned to his room and tried to sleep for an hour before getting ready to leave the hotel for the airport. There was a monster traffic jam as several trucks filled with soldiers headed North stopped traffic for almost an hour. He was late for the plane waiting for him. The pilot, who liked to be precise, made it clear he didn’t like being off schedule. The plane took off almost immediately and was in the air in seconds, flying high in the sky to make up for lost time. It landed in Berlin only a few minutes late and came to a stop past the station where a car was waiting for him.

The pilot came from the cockpit and opened the hatch, and dropped the ladder for him. Rhinehart descended slowly and headed for his car, where the driver was waiting. He opened the car door for him and took his place at the wheel. The top was down, giving Rhinehart a great view of Berlin as they passed each street. His driver, a young man, who recently graduated from the Hitler Youth, gave him a running commentary about each street they passed and where he would drop him at his hotel. The driver picked up his bag, followed him into the lobby, and told the young woman that Captain Aberbach had already been signed in and that all he needed was his key. She gave the key to the driver, and Rhinehart followed him to the elevator. They didn’t speak until they were at the door to his suite.

“After you, Captain,” he said as he opened the door and stood back.

The first thing Rhinehart noticed was the large radio that stood next to a wide clothes closet. Stations were springing up all over the world, and he wondered if he would be able to hear a radio station from Canada. He would find out later when he returned after his meeting with Himmler. There were floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom, which gave him an incredible view of Berlin, the Chancery and other important buildings close to it. He walked up and down on the thick blue carpet, feeling his feet sink into it. It was almost like a massage. The paintings in the main room were by masters. He had never seen such wealth before, making him proud of his German heritage.

The young man returned an hour later with a faint knock at his door. “It’s time for me to take you for your meeting. It’s only five minutes from here.”

He let him off at an imposing building with four pillars and five stone steps. Rhinehart walked with his head held high and into the lobby. A young woman dressed in a SS uniform greeted him. “I’m here to see Herr

Himmler. My name is Aberbach.”

She opened her book and went down the list of names. “Yes, Captain Aberbach. His office is on the second floor, and you’ll see two SS guards outside his door.”

Rhinehart walked up the stairs, his heart beating wildly. He stopped in front of the guards and produced his identification papers. They glanced at his name and opened the door for him.

The office was alive with men and women dressed in SS uniforms. Many of them were consulting with others. The smell of cigarettes was in the air. Phones were ringing, and no one seemed to pay attention to him until a young woman looked up and found him standing in front of her. “My name is Aberbach. Herr Himmler is expecting me.”

“Let me escort you,” she said, rising from her desk.

“You’re a very pretty young lady.”

“So I’ve been told.” She didn’t say anything more until they walked down another passageway and knocked at the door. An SS officer opened it. “Captain Aberbach is here.”

He opened the door and winked at her, and welcomed Rhinehart. Himmler was talking to several senior officers from the airforce and army and looked up to see Rhinehart, who could feel his heart beating wildly.

“You’re just in time for something quite monumental. The Fuhrer has decided to invade Poland. You’ll be taking a major role in it. Gentlemen, let me present Captain Rhinehart Aberbach. He’s quite a brilliant strategist and headed for bigger things.”

One of the army generals rose to get a good look at him. “You’re the one who saved Heydrich, aren’t you?”

Rhinehart didn’t respond as other heads turned his way.

“I forgot to mention that he’s not full of himself, and he’s also one of our recruits living in North America who answered the call of the Fatherland,” said Himmler.

“When will this take place?”

“Friday, September first. The army’s tanks will cross into Poland with a large force of soldiers. The Luftwaffe will lead the charge by bombing their towns and cities and getting rid of their airforce. You will be in charge of our SS troops, who will also be involved in the invasion. Your job is to mop up any opposition and solidify our gains.”

“Thank you,” said Rhinehart.

“Now, gentlemen,” added Himmler, who liked to touch his glasses when he talked, “it’s time for us to feast on our victory.”

“What about the British?” said the army’s tank division commander.

“Their Prime Minister is weak,” said Himmler. “He won’t do anything, just as he did not act when we invaded Czechoslovakia, and he won’t now. He’s too timid.”

Rhinehart had no time to lose. He left the hotel with his driver and was on his way to the SS camp 70 miles away. He could see it from the top of the hill that descended onto the plain where the camp was located. It was in the wilderness, with guards at stations along the way to ward off unwanted visitors.

Their car rolled past the guardhouse unhindered and stopped in front of the main office and the commandant’s quarters. Rhinehart left the driver with his bag and entered the building. No one paid much attention to him until he pounded his fist on a desk at the entrance. The noise suddenly stopped, and everyone looked up to see him standing with his arms crossed.

“My name is Captain Rhinehart Aberbach. I am your new commander. On the way into the camp, no one stopped me to find out who I was. I could have been a terrorist sent to blow up the camp for all you knew. I want to see both guards in my office in the next five minutes. You,” he said, pointing to one of the soldiers, who had his head down, “you go and get them.” He looked at his watch. “If you’re not back with them in the next five minutes, you’ll also enjoy their punishment.”

His driver led him to his office, where a soldier sat at a desk in a small room fronted his office. He stood at attention and saluted when he entered. “Your name, corporal?”

“Wolff, sir.” He had left university to join the SS with many skills Rhinehart could use.

“You’re now a Sargeant. I will communicate my wishes to the troops through you. Tomorrow morning, I want to hold a war between the greens and the reds. The men can choose what side they want to be on, but the sides must be even.”

Wolff, who was holding a folder, was about to smile but thought better of it.

“Do you have something to say, Sargeant?”

“We’ve had mock wars, and they didn’t do much good. Everyone made fun of them.”

“Then we’ll add another wrinkle. All prisoners caught on both sides will spend their nights in the camp kitchen cleaning dishes and mopping up for a week. Make sure they know that as well.”

Wolff was nodding and smiling. He opened the door to his office, and Rhinehart followed him in and sat behind his desk.

“What was the previous commander like?”

“A bit free with the men, if you know what I mean. You’re going to be a big shock on them.”

“We may be at war one of these days, Wolff. Our enemy will cut them down in a hurry if they don’t know what to do. What about the other officers?”

“There’s only one. Jorg Shafer, and I think he’s waiting to see you.”

Rhinehart nodded and looked through the drawers for any information that might help him run the camp. Two minutes later, Shafer knocked on the door and entered. He stood in front of Rhinehart and clicked his heels. “Jorg Shafer. I’m at your service, Captain Aberbach.”

“I’d like you to take the men on a 12-kilometre hike up and through a swamp on your way back. I want them to feel and know what it’s like to be in a war. Don’t ease up on them, and make sure you don’t return until after dinner. Let them go to bed hungry. I want them to know what it’s really like and how to act under all circumstances.”

Jorg clicked his heels and left. Rhinehart could hear the clamour of the men shouting when Jorg told them to get ready for a long hike. Rhinehart looked out the window to see Jorg walk around them to ensure they were all in full combat gear. Rhinehart watched them march away behind Jorg as he headed for the highest hill near the camp.

Jorg could hear the grumbling in the ranks after the first two kilometres and knew who the instigator was. He had warned the previous commandant about Hans Franke, a big hulk of a man used to getting his way who complained about everything. The last commandant stripped him of his corporal stripes and tended to ignore him.

“I don’t know how walking waist-deep through in a swamp is going to make us be better soldiers,” said Franke in a guttural voice that intimated some of the others.

“Lazy soldiers will die in battle, and you’re the laziest of the lot,” said Jorg. “Right now you’re not ready for battle. You need toughening up, and the new commandant is trying to toughen you up so you can fight again for the new Germany.” ***

The war game the next morning had the soldiers moaning as they took their place in the courtyard. The two teams had chosen their leader, with Jorg acting as judge. The reds walked away first, followed by the greens in

a slightly different direction.

Rhinehart and Jorg waited an hour before ordering a combat car to take them toward the teams. They came across the Greens first, waiting for an attack from the reds. The Reds had encircled them and were waiting for the Greens to show themselves. They poured one smoke bomb after another into the Greens’ position, forcing some of them to leave their position and be captured by the Reds in a matter of minutes.

A few minutes later, the Reds attacked the Greens’ position, losing some of their men in the process, but they came out the winner in the number of captured Green soldiers.

Rhinehart decided to eat with them that evening. He sat at the head table with Jorg and joked with the captured greens carrying plates of beef and potatoes to the tables. Rhinehart ordered wine for the men, who rose to toast him and Jorg. The noise in the mess suddenly went silent when Rhinehart rose. Jorg used his fork to beat his water glass to call attention to their new commandant.

“Yesterday and today, you had a taste of what war is really like,” said Rhinehart. “I hope you learned a lot and that it will save your life one day.” He paused to look at the faces in front of him. “Tomorrow morning, you will pack your gear and get ready to be shipped out. The trucks will be here at seven o’clock to take you to a new location. You will board them at that time or be left behind as deserters.”

The noise level rose in the shouts that followed. Rhinehart withdrew his luger and shot it into the ceiling, and the noise ended immediately. He nodded to the cooks standing at the doorway of the soldier’s mess. They disappeared and marched in with trays of glasses and bottles of German wine. Many of the soldiers raised their glasses in salute. And for once in his life, Hans Franke was smiling.

Rhinehart entered the kitchen. “I want a full breakfast for the men in the morning and make it one they’ll remember in their old age.”

“I’ll need help.”

“Then get it.”

The cook shrugged. “What’s with this guy? Yesterday, he was the meanest son of a bitch in Germany and today, he’s Father Christmas. God knows what he’ll be like tomorrow.”

Chapter Nineteen

The cook and his assistants marched in with platters of eggs, ham and toast, and large flagons of coffee. They had barely sat down when the sound of planes passing overhead sent some of them outside. Franke pointed to the mass of bombers and fighter planes passing above them, ran inside, and told the others.

Rhinehart entered, and they stood immediately, unsure what was coming next. He waved them down and smiled as he sat at the head table. “Guten Appetit.”

Franke was scratching his head and looking at him. Rhinehart smiled back and waited until they ended breakfast before he made his announcement.

“Gentlemen,” he said, looking at his wristwatch. “I am pleased to inform you that our glorious army and Luftwaffe are now invading Poland.”

In the absolute silence that followed, he smiled and continued. “The Luftwaffe is bombing their airfields, their barracks of their armed forces, as well as other primary targets. Army tanks followed by soldiers have already crossed their border. We will also share in their glory.

“When you leave here, you will be trucked to the border, where we will solidify their gains. It will not be without peril of its own. Look after each other, and we will look after you.”

Rhinehart looked out the window to see several trucks riding onto their grounds. “Gott mit uns,” he shouted, and they shouted back in echo. He led them to the trucks, grabbing their bags on the way out. Rhinehart picked up his bag and got into his car, leading them to the area where their tanks had crossed the border.

They crossed the border about 40 minutes later, anxious and tense. Black smoke swirled in the air around them and the deserted barracks of the defeated Polish soldiers. There were a few houses and more black

smoke from burning cars.

A machine gun suddenly sent bullets into their trucks, wounding some of the men. Rhinehart pointed to the house that had the machine gun. “Follow me,” he shouted as he leapt from his car and ran towards the building, with his luger firing shots at the window where the machine gun was positioned. Bullets danced around him, and he dodged them like a ballerina.

“He’s not scared of anything,” shouted Franke, following him to a large boulder, where they had a clear view of the machine gun and the two men operating it. Rhinehart grabbed one of Franke’s grenades and threw it into the window. When the smoke cleared from the explosion, all they could see were two men leaning over their machine gun. Jorg led four others into the building and up the stairs with their rifles ready for anyone still alive. They brought back a Polish soldier limping from the grenade blast. He was shivering and looked ready to fall. Rhinehart found a bottle of Cognac and gave him a mouthful.

“Anyone know Polish?”

“I do, Captain,” said Franke, who rose to his feet.

“Tell him we know other Polish soldiers with machines are waiting for us. I would like him to give us an idea of where we might expect them.” Rhinehart offered him another mouthful of Cognac.

Franke talked to him for a few minutes. He says we can expect the same greeting on both sides of the road.”

Rhinehart threw him the bottle of Cognac. “Find someone to take him back where they’re rounding up prisoners.”

They had cleared the street by nightfall and set up tents in an open field to eat and sleep. Jorg posted guards around the camp and went to his tent to sleep. Morning for them came with the first streaks of dawn.

Rhinehart gathered his men around him. “We now have a good idea of what to expect as we go farther into Poland. We must expect a few more surprises, so be alert and look carefully at every building we pass for any hidden machine guns. We’ve already lost a few good men.”

Franke, standing next to Rhinehart, spotted the light from the barrel of a rifle and pushed Rhinehart to the ground as the shot rang out. The other soldiers peppered the window where the shot had come. Rhinehart rose to his feet, dusted off his uniform and held up his arm. “That’s enough, gentlemen.” He looked at Franke. “Take a squad and silence that gun forever.”

Franke picked six of his friends and made his way to the building. They crept into the first floor and found nothing but a floor littered with plaster droppings and shattered windows. They advanced slowly to the

second floor, where Franke put his finger to his mouth. They could make out voices from the third floor and tested each stair before stepping on it. A few minutes later, Franke threw open the door, and he and his men entered, shooting three men as they turned to see them.

One had a grenade in his hands, and it rolled across the floor in their direction. Franke shouted, “grenade.” He and his men backed away and were halfway down the stairs when it exploded. They emerged, waving their rifles and shouting.

They had four other episodes by the time they found a safe place to rest for the night. They found space for them to lay on the second and third floors. Sentries were posted at each of the doors at all windows.

The cooks had risen early and were already on the ground floor, using the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Everyone was in a good mood as the cooks added a bit of Cognac to their tea. The kitchen and dining room were the largest rooms. The parlour was smaller but had an Indian carpet. A faded picture of someone’s father hung at an angle.

Rhinehart and Jorg ordered Franke to join them to discuss the coming day.

“We are also promoting you to the rank of Sargeant, and you will work closely with Lieutenant Jorg.” Rhinehart looked down at the map he had spread on the table in the middle of the room. Rhinehart pointed to the other streets in the town. “We need to visit them. I have a hunch that they will be free of Polish patriots for the most part. Even so, we need to be on the lookout everywhere we go.”

Three days later, they boarded the trucks that had come for them, passing through rolling hills and lone houses that looked deserted, stopping only to have lunch before boarding again. By nightfall, the trucks stopped. They left them to see a town ahead with black smoke from burning tanks and where the Polish army had taken a stand. The sky was alive with Heinkels dropping bombs. The sound was deafening even from a distance.

A messager arrived shortly after they had arrived from Col. Kohler for him to report to his office at seven o’clock. Rhinehart had supper with Jorg and Franke to discuss the situation. “I think we will have our first opportunity to go directly against the enemy. It won’t be like fighting a handful of men with a machine gun. Do you think the men are ready for something far more demanding?”

“They’re itching to get a chance to fight a real war,’ said Franke. “So am I.”

‘We’ll know for sure after I return from my meeting.” He turned to Jorg and Franke. “Make sure they get a good rest tonight.”

The messenger was waiting for him outside and drove him to Kohler’s headquarters in the ruins of a bombed hotel. Kohler occupied the lobby. A number of other captains had arrived ahead of him and were smoking and drinking Cognac when he entered. There was an expensive Persian carpet on the floor, and the lobby had been rearranged to accommodate straightbacked chairs. The windows were taped to protect them from the shock waves of the bombing and artillery.

Everyone was smoking and talking loudly. That changed as soon as Col. Kohler entered the room. Kohler was in his back uniform with an iron cross at his neck. His hair was grey, and he had sharp, piercing, cold blue eyes. He had a thin face and a Prussian look in the condensing way he looked at people and how he stood.

He surveyed the room and smiled. “Now that we’re all here, gentlemen, it’s time to get down to business. You’ve all done a great job mopping after the army came through. Now, you’ll be given a chance to go up the Polish army. Your men will be trucked to the front in one last push against any further resistance in Poland. In case you don’t know, England and France have declared war on us.”

There was a low murmur in the group. Kohler watched them as he placed a cigarette in a holder and lit it.

“You are our best. Let us show the British just how good we can be tomorrow.”

Everyone clapped, and Kohler looked down at them and smiled. “Trucks will arrive at each of your camps at precisely six o’clock tomorrow morning. Make sure your men are all battle-ready by then. Any questions?”

He scanned the smiles on the faces in front of him. “Then, gentlemen, it’s time we saluted the Fuhrer and raised our glasses in a toast to our success.”

The same driver drove Rhinehart back to his camp. For some reason, he felt uneasy and didn’t know why. It was nine o’clock. He met Jorg and Franke outside his tent. “I was right. We’re going to see real action tomorrow with other SS groups. That’s the good part. Everyone must be dressed and ready for battle by six o’clock when trucks will appear to take us to the front. Gather the men together and give them the news.”

Jorg and Franke left and assembled the others 15 minutes later. Jorg gave them the news. “We will be given a chance to fight the Polish army on the front tomorrow. Each of us must be up, dressed, have breakfast and be battle-ready for the trucks that will take us to the front at six o’clock.”

A loud groan rose from the men. “Can’t it be a bit later?”

Franke smiled at them. “I’m with you, but if we don’t leave then, we’ll miss the show.”

Rhinehart was up by four-thirty. He shaved and washed and had breakfast with many of the men who had also risen early. The mess tent was full by five-thirty, and they stood outside by six, waiting for the trucks to arrive. They could hear them rumbling as they entered their camp area a few minutes later. It was still dark when they stopped, and the men climbed aboard them. Rhinehart rode alone in a car in front of them.

It didn’t take long before they could hear the rattling of machine guns and the blast from their artillery before they would be heading against the enemy. The trucks stopped a short distance away from the front. Rhinehart jumped out first and assembled the men before marching them to battle. They would need to cross a wide field and face enemy fire every step of the way.

The shelling from the artillery suddenly stopped Rhinehart, and his men were the first to head across the field. He glanced across the assembly area to see other captains lining up their men. Bullets were coming at them from every corner. He could hear Franke’s voice behind him, urging them on as some of the men fell and lay on the ground.

Rhinehart seemed to have a charmed life and kept pushing on no matter what, shooting his machine gun at the bushes and trees in front of him. By the time he reached the forest, he glanced back to see he had lost at least a quarter of his men.

Jorg, Franke, and other Sargeants were given one gun to overrun and take over. Jorg and Franke, and the rest of his were with him as he plunged into the forest, wiping out machine gun nests and heading in the direction of the Polish artillery. They paused at the edge of another field where the artillery was located.

“We need two squads to silence each gun,” said Rhinehart. “One to come at them from the left and the other from the right. Doing this will confuse them and enable one squad to get close enough to throw grenades at them.”

They readied grenades and had them ready to throw as they ran from their hiding place and onto the field, throwing their grenades at the artillery crew and shooting the survivors.

It was over in a matter of minutes as other Polish soldiers surrendered and cleared the way to the last resistance in their area. It was a time to pause and look after the wounded. They just had their first taste of battle and won, and it felt great.

Rhinehart made a round of his wounded group in the hospital tent, telling them how proud he was of each of them, that their wounds enabled the rest of the company to knock out the machine gun nests and the Polish artillery as well.

One of the wounded, Erwin Berger, was crying. He broke his left arm when he fell during their run across the field. “I can’t do this anymore,” he said, looking up at Rhinehart. “Make me a cook or a truck driver but don’t ask me to go into battle again. I don’t want to be killed, and I don’t want to kill someone else, even if they are my enemy.”

Rhinehart rubbed Berger’s head and smiled at him. “We all feel that way, Berger. You will feel better about it when you’re able to return to us.”

The next day they had a visit from Col. Kohler. Rhinehart assembled his group and found a box for the colonel to stand on. Kohler smiled as he saw the men surround him and climbed on the box. “For your outstanding bravery yesterday, the Fuhrer is awarding each of you a special medal and your group a special commendation. You have shown what the German soldier can do, even under the most difficult conditions. All Germany is proud of you.”

He brought several crates of wine with him and asked them to join him in a toast to their Fuhrer and Germany.

He motioned Rhinehart to join him in a tour of the hospital. Kohler stopped at many of the beds, where he smiled at each bandaged soldier. “Your bravery and sacrifice have given us a great victory and enabled us to complete the occupation of Poland. All Germany salutes you.”

Rhinehart accompanied him to his car, where Kohler stopped. “The high command has promoted you to Major and given you a new and larger group to command as we take our war elsewhere.”

Chapter Twenty

Theyall sat around the radio to hear the CBC announce that Canada, along with Britain and France, had declared war on Germany, which had invaded Poland that morning.

“All able males between the ages of 18 and 41 must report for duty,” added the announcer, who went on to report on how German troops had made inroads into Poland, which was also being invaded by the Russians from the Eastern side.

Grete looked at Karl with fear in her eyes. “I hope that does not mean Karl will have to fight.” She looked at Konrad, who had set his mouth, and feared the worst. “If there is conscription, he will have no option but to answer the call. If he doesn’t, they will find him and take him away. Let us pray it will not come to that.”

“They won’t take me,” said Karl with a laugh. “One look at me, and they’ll tell me I’m too weak to go to war.”

“So was I,” said his father, and before I knew it, I was in a uniform and ended up in a water-soaked trench.”

“We’re putting the cart ahead of the horse,” said Hugh. “Karl may never be called up. What’s more, they may never impose conscription.”

“I would not want to see my two boys trying to shoot each other,” said Grete. ***

Christmas came with no word from Rhinehart, and Grete began to fret. There was talk of rationing when they went to the store, and Karl was being pressured by his friends to join some of his schoolmates to join the army with them.

By the time Spring came, Karl began spending more time in his room

and avoiding contact with the outside world. He could feel people stare at him when he went to the movies or when he went shopping. It got worse when the first reports of casualties and deaths of some of his friends appeared in the St. Catharines Standard.

“I can’t stand it,” he told his father.

“People have mentioned it to me,” said Hugh. “They’re starting to think that you and your family are spies for the Germans. Especially when one of your friends told everyone that Rhinehart had joined the German army.”

“What should I do?” he asked his mother.

“I do not want to lose two of my sons to war. But I fear you might be attacked if the war gets any worse.”

Konrad and Hugh drove him to the recruitment depot in St. Catharines the next morning. Karl went inside and got in line at the recruitment desk. The line moved quickly enough, and he soon was facing the recruitment Sargeant.

“Your name?”

“Karl Aberbach.”

“Age?”

“Twenty.”

“Are you the one who has a brother in the German army?”

“Yes.”

“Do you hear from him often?”

“Our last call from him was a year ago. We have no idea where he is now.”

The recruitment Sargeant’s face had hardened. “You will need to take an oath.”

“That is not a problem. I was born in Canada, lived all my life in Canada and consider myself a Canadian if that will ease your mind.”

“You look like a milksop to me but see what the doctor says. If he approves you for duty, come back and sign up.”

The doctor had him strip as he examined his lungs and heart and checked his body for hints of disease. “Tell the Sergeant to sign you up.”

Karl got in line again, and when he reached the recruitment Sargeant, he smiled, “the doctor says I’m fit for duty.”

The Sargeant passed him a sheet with writing on it. “Sign here,” he said, putting his finger on the bottom line.

“Now go back home, prepare yourself for an adventure of a lifetime, and report back here in two days to be shipped out.”

Karl left feeling better than he had in months. His father opened the

car door for him and saw the look in Karl’s eyes. “Despite what your mother thinks, the experience might be good for you. It will certainly make you a lot stronger.”

“Better still, you might find yourself as a cook and get first dibs on all the best things and never see the end of a gun barrel.”

“Fat chance,” said Konrad, and they all laughed.

Grete had been praying that Karl would be rejected but put a good face on it and made Karl his favourite dish for supper. “You’ll be lucky if you ever have a meal like this where you’re going.”

***

Karl climbed aboard the truck and 16 others and found a seat on the side. They began to talk to each other as they boarded the truck again and speculated where they were going. They drove for hours before stopping at an army canteen to have lunch and drink a quick cup of coffee.

They reached Camp Pettawa in the afternoon and were led inside one of the huts to be outfitted with uniforms. They looked in a long narrow mirror to see how they looked and laughed at each other.

The next few weeks were the worst he ever knew in his life. The exercises were demanding, mentally and physically, and designed to toughen them up and left everyone so tired they barely had the energy to eat. They had their first pass by the end of the month and spent it at the local movie theatre and in the mess drinking ale.

Two months later, each of them was interviewed by a lieutenant to determine what area of the army they could make their best contribution.

Lieutenant Frank Withers had cornflower blue eyes, a thin black mustache and an engaging smile. “Aberbach,” he said, looking at Karl’s recruitment papers, “it says you have a twin brother who is an officer in the German army. Can you speak German?”

Karl nodded. “My parents are German and always spoke it to us. I was born in Cape Breton. So that you know, my brother and I are identical twins.”

“Where do you see you could contribute most to the army?”

“I’m not sure. Other than harvesting grapes, I have no other skills.”

“What do you know about our Intelligence Corps?”

“Nothing. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“ You speak and understand German. That could be very useful to them.”

Withers took another sheet of paper and wrote on it for about five minutes. When he finished, he smiled at Karl and added, “I’m posting you

to our Intelligence Headquarters in Ottawa to see how you fit. Take this paper and show it to your Sargeant, who will make all the arrangements for someone to drive you there. When you are dropped off, show the paper to the guard on duty and the receptionist inside.”

Sergeant McNeil, another Cape Bretoner, looked up, “Be ready to leave at nine in the morning. In the meantime, let your mates know that you’ve been posted but under no circumstances, tell them where.”

They went into town and were invited by a group of young women, waving banners that said Buy Victory Bonds, to a party for soldiers. It turned out to be a Victory Bond drive, where Karl met Janette Millet, a brunette with dark, inviting eyes and a lilt to her voice. She passed him a sandwich, a beer, and a form to sign up for Victory Bonds.

“If you put half your pay every month into the bonds, you will be able to take me to Montreal for a night on the town when the war is over.”

Karl read the form carefully and added his mother’s name should he die before the war was over. He signed it with a flourish.

Janette kissed him on the lips and folded his bond application before putting it in her purse. She got him on the floor to dance and show him how to waltz. They spent the rest of the evening talking and dancing.

“I’ll see you home,” said Karl.

“We’re not allowed to, but here is my phone number. Call me when you have a chance.”

“I’m being posted tomorrow,” he said.

“Then see me to the door when the evening ends.”

About 30 minutes later, the last waltz ended, and they headed towards the door. Just outside, he hugged and kissed her for almost a minute while her friends waited for her to leave with them.

Karl’s head was whirling when he joined his mates for their walk back to the barracks. “You hugged that brunette and never let the rest of us have a chance with her,” said Eddie Williams, his best buddy.

Karl went to bed as soon as they returned, hoping to dream of Janette. Instead, he dreamed of his mother and Rhinehart and woke with a sweat. Rhinehart was shaking his finger at him and saying over and over, “I can’t protect you now.”

They drove past the Parliament buildings to make their way to the Intelligence Corps. Karl was amazed to see all the signs along the way that were also in French. The jeep suddenly stopped. Karl grabbed his duffle bag and walked to the sentry guarding his way to the door. He reached into his tunic and produced the piece of paper with his ID and number.

The sentry glanced at it and gave it back to him. Karl opened the door and went straight to the reception desk, where another soldier asked for his paper.

“Take the elevator to the second floor, turn left and enter the second door on your right.”

Karl made it to the second floor without a problem and went down the corridor on the left and rapped on the second door on his right.

A gruff, loud voice shouted for him to enter. Karl opened the door to see an older man dressed in a Colonel’s uniform, who waved him to a chair in front of his desk. Karl saluted and sat in the chair.

“Major Stone is intrigued by your background and ability to speak and understand German. But I’m intrigued that you have a brother who is an officer in the Waffen SS. He must be something to rise that fast in that group.”

“My father was in the First World War, and tried to talk him out of it. My mother is worried sick about him and begged him not to go.”

“But why?” said Stone.

“Because his girlfriend cheated on him, and he saw his destiny in Hitler’s army.”

“If we parachuted you into Germany, do you think you could find him and convince him to work with us?”

The colonel looked at the birds eating the seeds he had placed in the window box for them. You could see Parliament and other government buildings and the Gatineau River.

“You would be wasting your time. When Rhinehart makes up his mind, it would take the end of the world for him to change it.”

Stone nodded. “That said, we feel you might be more useful working with us than taking part in battles. We monitor German broadcasts and now have to wait a day for the translation. What do you say to that?”

“I would love it. When would you want me to start?”

“This afternoon. We have our own barracks. Our driver will take you there and get you settled in.”

“You’ll also have the rank of Sergeant,” said the colonel. “One thing more,” said Karl. “What can I tell my parents?”

“Tell them that you’re being stationed for the time being. But do not tell them where or what you’re doing.”

Stone had him come to his office in the afternoon. He had the short wave radio on and turned the dial to capture morse code sounds from a

German submarine. Karl copied down the letters as Stone called them out to them.

“Can you translate what they’ve just sent?”

Karl shook his head. It’s a code of some kind. Let me work with it a bit and see what I can come up with.”

He spent the next three hours and thought he might be able to translate it. “It says convoy left Halifax the previous night.”

“Wait here,” Stone said as he rose and walked out the door. When he returned, he sat down and gave Karl a big smile. “We just sent a signal to the ships protecting the convoy to be on the immediate lookout for submarines heading their way.”

“That code was pretty simple, and be prepared if they change it to something far more complicated.”

“The Colonel would like to have a word with you again. He’d like to see you when you have time.”

Karl was apprehensive when he approached the Colonel’s door. He rapped on it and was invited inside. “Yes, Aberbach. We need to have a quiet chat with you about an assignment. Before we discuss it, we want you to know there will be danger attached to it. You can refuse if you wish, but you are our best hope.”

Karl didn’t respond, but his instincts told him it would be his path to bigger things. “I’m listening,” he said finally.

“One of our agents has been captured by the SS and is being tortured. We need someone to bring him back. Of all our staff members, you are best suited to help him. How do you feel about it?”

“Do I have to give you my answer today?”

The Colonel shook his head, but could you provide us with an answer tomorrow? Sleep on it and let us know. Just remember that if you decide it is too dangerous for you, we understand.”

Karl left the building with a thousand ideas swirling in his head, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He was too preoccupied as he made his way to the barracks to see Jeanette approaching him.

She had to bump into him to get his attention. “You never called me.”

“I was too busy in my new assignment. But it did not mean that I forgot you or your telephone number.” He rhymed it off to her and smiled. “You’re just the person I need to talk with about something. But before I talk about it, you must promise never to reveal what I tell you to anyone. Even your mother.”

“Agreed. But before we do anything, let’s at least have a coffee togeth-

er, and you can walk me home.”

They entered and sat at an empty booth near the front. Karl was too preoccupied with her to notice a man in a black hat and coat sit in the booth next to them.

“How do you like your new assignment?”

“Love it so far, and I’ve been offered a special assignment that I can’t make up my mind about.”

“Take me home and meet my mother. We don’t live far from her. I’ve talked about you so much that I know she would like to meet you. And you need not have to tell me anything further about your assignment or even where you’ve been posted.”

Jeanette’s mother had made a chocolate cake with boiled brown sugar icing. “I understand that you’re in the army. So is Jeanette’s father. We do not know where he’s stationed. But we understand. War is war, and you never know who may be listening. All we know is that he is doing his best to make sure we will be free.”

When it was time to leave, she took him to the door. “Whatever you decide, take care of yourself. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Kay passed the official-looking envelope to May. Her hands shook. “Envelopes like this do not bring good news.” May ripped open the envelope and read it slowly, line by line, before showing it to her.

“What does it mean, auntie Kay?”

“It means you are being sued for the custody of your daughter two months from now.”

“I’ll run away before I give them my baby.”

Grete had fire in her eyes and put her hand on May’s shoulder. “We can sue back,” she said in a determined voice.

It was close to lunchtime, and they waited to show the letter to Konrad and Hugh. They waited until lunch was over before May handed Konrad the letter. He also read it slowly and passed it to Hugh.

“They’re taking us to court to sue for custody of your child. We need to see our lawyer to get someone experienced in these matters to act for us when we go to court.”

Hugh and Konrad took the afternoon off to see their lawyer in St. Catharines. Anthony Saunders glanced at the letter. “My assistant is experienced in these matters and has acted on several other women at Court in these matters. You can count on both of us to be there for you. I’ll start by replying to their letter and letting them know that you will be contesting their claims. A date will then be set for the hearing. Once that is established, we will call you and prepare you for what to say before your court appearance.”

Saunders was in his late 50s and had wavy dark down hair with grey streaks. He wore a grey pin-stripe suit with a blue polka-dot tie and had the habit of licking his lips after each sentence. He put his hands together, rose to shake their hands, and saw them to his inner office.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to my assistant, Miss Agnew. She has extensive experience and has helped many families with Court proceedings. Her jet black hair was brushed back, and her dark eyes scanned their faces. She had a deep professional voice and rarely smiled. She was holding a folder dealing with a case she and Saunders would represent. She shook their hands and saw them to the door.

“What do you think?” said Konrad as they entered Hugh’s car. “She scares the hell out of me.”

Hugh laughed. “She lets you know in a hurry that she isn’t someone who could be trifled with.”

May peppered them with questions the moment they returned. She looked up from the Christmas cake she was spooning into a baking pan. “Do I still have to go to Court?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Hugh. “But our lawyer has a dragon lady assistant who handles cases like these with him.”

“She gave me the shivers,” said Konrad. “If anyone can get their suit thrown out, it’s this lady. Wait until you see her, and you understand what I mean.”

“Where’s Grete and Kay?”

May placed the Christmas cake into the oven and shut the oven door, “Grete is sick, and Kay is upstairs attending to her.”

Kay appeared an hour later. “I think Grete has a bad case of the flu. I think we should call the doctor. She’s vomiting and burning up. I took her temperature. It’s well over 100 degrees.”

Kay went to the phone and called their doctor. “Grete’s in a bad way. I think she’s got the flu.” He answered a few more questions before hanging up.

“He’ll be here just after super.”

“Where did she catch it?” said Konrad.

“Probably last week when we went Christmas shopping. She stopped to talk to one of the women from our church while I went on to look for oranges. They say we may not be able to buy them soon while the war’s on. I could hear her friend coughing as I returned.”

Dr. Chalmers arrived shortly after seven. It was snowing, and he ran from his car and into the porch with his bag beneath his arm. Kay opened the door for him as soon as she heard him stamp the snow from his shoes.

“If it’s what I think it is, it would be unwise for any of you to see her.” He put on a mask and followed Kay up to Grete’s room. The room smelled of vomit, and Dr. Chalmers opened the window to let in the fresh air. Kay shut it a few minutes later and watched Dr. Chalmers take her temperature

and listen to her lungs with his stethoscope.

“It’s flu all right and one of the worst cases I’ve seen. She’s having a hard time breathing and should be in the hospital, but with the snowfall getting worse by the minute, it would be unwise to move her.”

“The drug store is still open Call the druggist and get them to prepare the tablets for her and have someone bring them to you as soon as possible.” He took out his subscription pad and wrote a prescription for her. He looked at his wristwatch.

Kay escorted him downstairs and went to the telephone.

“I’m just closing,” he said,” and the snow is getting worse.”

“Dr. Chalmers feels that Grete might die if she does not get them as soon as possible.”

There was a noticeable pause before he said, “I’ll do my best and drive them to you myself. I have chains on my wheels, and that should help.”

Hugh looked out the window at the sound of a car in the driveway. “It’s the druggist,” he said, opening the door before he knocked.

Hawkins shook off the snow from his cap and his coat before entering. He gave the prescription to Hugh and took off his shoes. Kay waved him to the table and put a cup of tea on it. She sliced one of the fresh-baked Christmas cakes and added them to the table.

“I can’t thank you enough,” said Konrad.

Hawkins tried to smile. “It’s turned into a blizzard out there.”

“Then you’ll spend the night here or until it’s over,” said Konrad. “It’s the least we can do.”

“My wife will be worried.”

“Then call her,” said Hugh. “Our phone is in the front room.”

Kay left them and went to Grete’s room to give her two pills. “It’s a new pill, just out,” said Hawkins when she returned. “Supposed to be very good.”

Kay rose in the middle of the night to give Grete another pill and feel her forehead. She had stopped vomiting and was breathing easier. She looked out the window in time to hear a drift of snow slide from the roof. The snow was still falling.

Kay rose before the others to look in on Grete. She looked at the old clock on top of Grete’s dresser. Past eight. Time for another pill. She went to the washroom and poured a fresh glass of water and propped Grete up against her pillow, and had her take another pill. She coughed and started to vomit again.

Kay took the pail in which Grete had vomited and washed it out. She glanced out the window. The snow had stopped, and a huge drift had

swallowed Hawkins’s car. She heard Hugh walking to the washroom and Konrad stirring in the next room. When she went downstairs, she saw the druggist looking out the front room window.

Outside they could hear the plow rumbling down the road, leaving a huge pile in their driveway. Hawkins turned to see Kay looking at him. “It’ll take a week to dig ourselves out of this one. “I need to get to the drug store and open up. It’s Christmas time and my most profitable time of the year.”

Hugh arrived in the kitchen in time to hear Hawkins talk about the road being blocked. He quietly rose, went to the telephone, and called up the works department in St. Catharines. “Jeff Hawkins is snowed in at my place and needs to get to his drug store in case people need his medications. Could you have the plow swing back our way and plow him out?”

He returned to the table. “The plow will be coming back to clear the driveway within the hour. If the three of us get shovelling now, you should be on your way to your store before you usually open.”

They finished breakfast, wrapped themselves in their warmest coats, and headed outside. Hugh and Konrad wore stocking caps large enough to cover their ears. The wind swirled flakes of snow in their faces as they began shovelling. They cleared the snow that covered Hawkins’s car so that all he had to do was back up once the plow had done its work.

Hawkins looked at his pocket watch. “Just on eight o’clock.” His voice was more cheerful now. A few minutes later, they could hear the plow coming their way. They stood in the back of the car and rested their hands on their shovels. Fifteen minutes later, Hawkins backed out of their driveway and waved to them as he sped down the road.

They entered to see Kay coming down the stairs and going to the telephone. “Dr. Chalmers, it’s Kay McGill. I just checked Grete and found her vomiting and her fever back. Should I increase the pills?”

“No. The body has its way of healing. It just means she needs to get all the bad things out of her system. I’ll check in on her again this afternoon. All the roads should be plowed by then.”

Konrad wanted to see her, but Kay vetoed it. “We can’t afford to get you sick as well.”

Dr. Chalmers listened to her chest and heart again and took her temperature. He stood with a smile. “The worst is over. Her lungs are better than they were, and her fever has begun to abate. “Just make sure she takes those pills until they’re all gone.”

Kay could see signs that Grete was recovering by the next morning.

Grete still slept a lot. At the end of the week, she was sitting up and eating the stew Kay was spooning her.

“How many days until Christmas?” she managed to say.

“It’s the 21st. You’ll be able to see the tree when you come downstairs on Christmas morning.”

“What about the Christmas cooking? I should be making Christmas cake and other things.”

“May has seen to that. She is the daughter you never had.”

“What about the letter she received?”

“Hugh and Konrad have seen our lawyer, and they will be in our corner when we go to Family Court.”

“What about Karl?”

“Nothing more than he wrote in his letter to us. He’s in some branch of the army he can’t talk about. But I’m sure he’s thinking of you and the rest of us. I know he would if he could.”

“First Rhinehart and now Karl. I fear I will never see either of them again.” Kay could see the tears welling in the corner of Gretes eyes.

Kay helped Grete steady herself on Christmas morning as they descended to see their Christmas tree. “It is so beautiful I could cry and the smell of the pine in the air. It is everything I could wish for.”

May’s daughter was running around the tree, holding the doll she had told Grete she wanted when they looked over Eaton’s catalogue together.

***

May shivered and held onto her daughter tightly as she sat in the courtroom in St. Catharines. Anthony Saunders, the lawyer, patted her arm and smiled at her. Hugh, Konrad and Grete sat on the bench behind them. Konrad tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, “where is your assistant?”

“I’m afraid Miss Agnew come down with a vicious strain of the flu and is in hospital.”

Konrad set his mouth. He didn’t like the way things were turning out. He looked at Hugh and then Grete, who looked angry.

“Is there any way the postpone the proceedings?” said Konrad.

Hugh shook his head. “If we could, no doubt Saunders would have asked for a postponement.”

The court clerk read the names of the plaintiff and the defendant. “The plaintiff is suing for custody of his daughter from a woman he had sex with before the war.”

The judge looked at Andrew Jones, who appeared in officer’s uniform, and nodded. The defendant is May Seeley, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bruce

Seeley. They have joined Lieutenant Jones in his suit. They allege she is a wanton woman and an unfit mother and her daughter is in a family that includes two German people.”

“Is the mother present with her daughter?” said the judge.

The clerk asked May and her daughter to stand. Her daughter started to cry. “I want to go home, mama. That man scares me.” She hid her face in his mother’s arms.

“What proof do you have that this child is your daughter?”

Lieutenant Jones would be pleased to swear to this, your honour.”

Andrew Jones was sworn in in the witness stall and sat looking smart and confident.

His lawyer, Miles Sercombe, approached him. “How did you come to know the defendant?”

“We met in St. Catharines, and a few months later, we met again, and we went to Toronto. We dined there and saw a show, and when it came time for me to take her back to her home, she asked if we could spend the night together.”

“And you have proof that you both stayed over at a hotel?” said the judge.

Sercombe produced a receipt to a Toronto hotel and passed it to the judge.

Saunders rose and straightened his wig. “The defence has not seen this, your honour.”

The judge passed him the receipt and scanned it with a looking glass. He returned it to the nudge. “It would appear that the date has been rubbed out and a new date put in its place.”

The judge called for a looking glass and scanned it carefully. He looked up. “It would appear that to be the case, Mr. Sercombe.”

Sercombe apologized and asked leave to have May’s mother take the stand. “Did your daughter stay overnight when left with Lieutenant Jones?”

“She did, and her father and I fretted about her when she failed to return home.”

“Did she have a boyfriend before meeting Lieutenant Jones?”

“She had a crush on a German boy named Rhinehart Aberbach. I understand he has since left Canada to enlist in the German army.”

There was a murmur in the crowd.

“She refuses to see us or let us see our grandchild,” she added, wiping her right eye with a handkerchief.

Saunders stood. “I have a couple of questions for the witness.” He

paused to scan her face. “Is there a reason she refuses to let you see her child?”

“If there is, she keeps it a dark secret. She is probably put up to it by those people she lives with.”

“Your daughter has certainly shared it with us. Let her tell why,” said Grete.

He called May to the stand. “Is it true that you refuse to let your parents see your child?”

“They referred to my daughter in some unpretty names. You all know what she called me and called me names.”

“I thought of Rhinehart’s family and sought them out in desperation. They welcomed my baby and me with open arms and treated my daughter and me as though we were their own.”

She rose and walked slowly from the witness stall. When she took her seat, he called Grete as a witness. Sercombe smiled at her and said in a loud voice, “are you and your husband citizens of Germany?”

“No. We became Canadian citizens, and my two boys were born in Canada and brought up as Canadians.” She looked at Konrad. “My husband and I came to Canada because we did not want to see another war. He was a soldier of the German army in the First World War and tried his best to convince Rhinehart not to leave Canada and go to Germany. His twin brother is a member of the Canadian army.”

They were summoned back to court a week later to hear the judge’s decision.

“This was a hard decision for me to make. But in the end, I have to rule that in the child’s best interests, and I award her to her father, grandparents, and Lieutenant Jones. They alone can provide the care of a stable household for her to grow up in.”

Jones smiled at his wife with a smug smile.

“The child’s mother is to be granted visiting privileges two days every month. She is to be brought to her mother, where she currently lives, and picked up 48 hours later.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Acall for you, Major Aberbach. Col. Sandweiss.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“ I wanted to alert you that we will be invading the rest of Poland, now held by the Soviets. Your group has been chosen to lead the charge. The first strike will be launched in three days. It will be secret until then. I wanted to alert you to get your group in readiness. If you have any questions, call me at any time.”

“I have one request. I’d like to promote Sergeant Franke to Lieutenant. He’s a born leader and practically leads his squad, and Jorg confirmed as Captain. I would also like Captain Heinz Shafer transferred to another company, and Lieutenant Jorg confirmed as Captain in his place.”

“Do you have a problem with Captain Shafer?” said Col. Sandweiss.

“No. He’s competent enough. But if we are to venture into Soviet territory, I can’t afford to have someone in second command who needs to second guess me. I need people to lead my group who already know how I operate and do not deviate from my methods even in situations where I may not be present.”

“Understood, Aberbach. I’ll have Shafer’s transfer and Jorg’s promotion in your hands this afternoon.”

When Shafer’s transfer papers came through, Rhinehart thanked him for his service and asked him to stay in touch with him. Just before supper, Rhinehart called Jorg and Franks into his office.

“You’ll be pleased to know, Lieutenant Jorg, that you have been promoted to the rank of Captain. You will take over Captain Shafer’s duties immediately.”

Jorg clicked his heels and thanked him.

“And you, Sergeant Franke, have received a battlefield commission as Lieutenant. You will assume Captain Jorg’s duties. Any questions?”

“Are you sure, major? Men from the ranks are not usually made officers.”

“You’re a born leader of men, Lieutenant. I’d be surprised if you don’t end the war as a colonel.”

They all laughed and were about to go when Rhinehart stopped them. “Before you go, gentlemen, some news that affects us all and for your ears only. “ He paused for a few seconds, “we will be taking the rest of Poland away from the Soviets in three days. Make sure your men are up for it.”

“Does that mean we’ll also invade Russia?” said Jorg.

“That is not in the cards at the moment. But we can always hope.”

“Before you go, Lieutenant Franke, there is one soldier in our group who avoids shooting at the enemy. I want you to have a harsh talk with him. We can’t afford to have even one soldier not pulling his weight.”

They saluted and headed to the door, where they turned. “We won’t let you down, Major.”

The first thing Franke was to seek out Hans Vogel, who was heading to the food tent for supper. “We need to talk, private. We’ll take a walk so that no one can listen in.”

They walked in silence for the first 15 minutes when Franke suddenly stood. “We’ve been watching you, Vogel. You pretend you’re shooting at the enemy, but you really have no intention to shoot anyone on the other side. All our lives depend on everyone taking part.”

“I find it hard to kill someone, even someone who might be trying to kill me. Every time I think of it, I feel sick.”

“Then aim at enemy soldiers, close your eyes and pull the trigger. Just pull the trigger. Pull the trigger. Pull the trigger,” he kept repeating. He made Vogel say it over and over as well.

Vogel felt somehow lighter after his talk with Franke. He liked Franke in a way he talked to him and the others. He couldn’t imagine being in someone else’s squad.

Franke slapped Vogel on the back and smiled. “You have the makings of a hero lurking inside you. Let it loose. You can never tell where it will take you. I have just been informed by the commandant that I have been promoted. I am now a Lieutenant, and you will have a new Sergeant. But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me anytime you wish.”

A soft breeze swept across the field, blowing Franke’s hair. He put his cap on and entered the mess. Everyone knew by now that Franke was now a Lieutenant, and they all stood. He waved them down. “Tonight, I want

to dine with my friends.”

The smell cordite hung in the air. The Luftwaffe had just finished bombing. The border posts to Soviet-held Poland and the cannon batteries blasted holes in their defences. The tanks started to roll across the border, and Rhinehart’s group followed them in the first wave, silencing machine gun nests and killing and wounding Soviet soldiers guarding key border posts.

Rhinehart led the charge, looking back and encouraging his men amid the artillery shells of Soviet artillery. No one faltered as Franke kept up their spirits by getting everyone singing as they followed the tanks. A few of their tanks were hit by artillery shells and burned with their crews trapped inside. He had Jorg get a few men to help anyone still alive escape from their tanks before they blew up.

They had gone almost ten kilometres when they paused to get and tend to their wounded and rest before the next wave of bombing began, and their artillery had moved up to strike the remaining groups of Soviet soldiers. Trucks carrying fresh troops rumbled past them, and a temporary field medical tent was set up to tend to the wounded.

Everyone was exhausted. The running had taken its toll on almost everyone, and most of his soldiers were lying on the ground to regain their strength. Rhinehart headed to the medical tent and walked down the three rows of cots bearing men of his command. There were fewer casualties than expected, and most wounds were superficial.

“How are you,” he said to one soldier whose eyes and head were bandaged. He found a glass and fed him some water.

“I’ll be all right, Major. I’m sorry I got wounded. The doctor told me I would need to be bandaged this way for at least a week but that I was one of the lucky ones. I’ll be able to see.”He paused before adding, “how about the others?”

“They’re exhausted and lying on the field all around you. They are all worried about you and their other friends who are in here with you.” He rose and stood over him. “I’ll have a bottle of Cognac passed among you to give you a bit of comfort.”

The cook had set up an hour later and was cooking their afternoon meal, and Rhinehart went to see the cook and his helpers. “Our group needs a great meal today. They’re borne the brunt of the Soviet shelling and seeing their comrades die before their eyes. Is there any way we could provide them with some beer to wash everything down?”

“That may be hard to come by.” said the cook, a short, beefy man with

a large round face who liked his own cooking.

“Then leave it to me.”

He left to see Col. Sandweiss’s car head into their camp. Sandweiss was smiling. “I knew your group would enable us to mass our troops, who are now pushing into the heart of Soviet-held Poland. You’ve got a crack command that’s helping to change the map of Europe. Expect your group to receive a special medal from the Futhrer.”

“Right now, colonel, I’d settle for some beer to go with their afternoon meal and a few bottles of Cognac for the wounded.”

“No wonder your soldiers worship you. I’ll see about the beer and Cognac,” he said, climbing aboard his car.

They were just finishing their afternoon meal when a truck arrived. Four soldiers jumped down and carried cases of beer into the mess tents. There were also a dozen bottles of Cognac, which they placed in Rhinehart’s tent.

Rhinehart walked inside the mess tent and sat down as the cook brought him supper. He had barely finished when all his group stood and raised their glasses in a toast to him.

“Cool. Sandweiss came to tell us to expect medals from the Fuhrer and send you all beer in his appreciation for what you did today. Our group made it possible to launch our offensive on Soviet-held Poland. Let me raise my glass in my admiration to you all.”

Later, he met with Jorg and Franke in his tent. “I’ve just received orders from Col. Sandweiss to head towards the Soviet border, where Russian soldiers have dug in a final attempt to stop us from entering Russia. We will be picked up tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. Tell the men we must be ready to board trucks that will take us to the battlefield.”

The men were in good spirits when they boarded the trucks the next morning. They drove three hours before stopping for lunch and reboarded the trucks. They arrived at the battlefield in the late afternoon. The Russians could see them getting off the trucks and lobbed mortar shells at them.

Rhinehart shouted to his men to run in all directions as soon as they jumped off the trucks and reassemble in the forest behind them. Several soldiers were lying on the ground and groaning with injuries from the mortar shells. Rhinehart gritted his teeth and headed for the woods, where he divided the men into three groups: one under Jorg and one under Franke. He would take the third.

Rhinehart tried to put a good face on it. “In a way, they’ve done us a favour. We’ll rush them from three sides. I’ll take the middle one, and Captain Jorg will take the left and Lieutenant Franke, the right. That will scatter

their concentrated fire. Captain Jorg’s group will go first, followed a couple of minutes later by my group and Lieutenant Franke’s group a couple of minutes after them. The time to strike is now while they concentrate on the battlefield.”

Jorg’s group emerged from the woods with their guns blazing. It took the Russians by surprise, and they moved their firepower at Jorg and his men, just as Rhinehart emerged onto the battlefield with his men, killing several Russian soldiers, as Franke’s men entered, shouting and throwing grenades at their machine guns and artillery emplacements.

Rhinehart surveyed the area where the enemy decided to take a stand. They were surrounded by large boulders on three sides. The line of boulders extended into a thick growth of trees on the right side, which made passage very difficult. A plan was coming together in his head. He needed a distraction and talked to Jorg and Franke about it.

“We’re not going to blast our way to their position. The rocks will protect them from anything we have. We need to take the position where it is weakest. That is from behind. We can do that with a group of men armed with machine guns and grenades to take them by surprise from behind. The forest on our right has a thick undergrowth, making easy passage for us to get to the boulders, climb over them and surprise them from behind. I need something to distract the enemy and keep their focus on where we are now.”

“What if we brought in a truckload of boulders to make them think that’s where we’re going to launch our attack?” said Franke.

Rhinehart nodded. “Then get things in motion while Jorg leads a group of our men through the thick undergrowth and attack them there while I lead the others in a run at them from our present position. We’ll attack as soon as I hear you attacking them from behind.”

Just over 30 minutes later, they heard the first machine gun blasts and ran towards the boulders in front of them. Some of the Russian soldiers turned to shoot at them but were killed by grenades from behind. Rhinehart led the rest of his troops to the boulders and captured another group of Russian soldiers.

Later, when they sat down on the grass overlooking the border with Russia, Jorg approached him. ”Col. Sandweiss is on the phone. He would like to talk to you.”

Rhinehart made his way back to the camp and took the telephone.

“You’ve done it again. The only thing I can think of is that you’re made for war. We want you and your troops to rest. We’ll be going into Russia soon, and we want you and your group ready and willing to go.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Karl was surprised when he entered Stone’s office to see Janette Millet sitting beside him and taking notes. She was dressed in a CWAC uniform and attached to Intelligence. Stone had just been promoted to Colonel.

“We didn’t meet by chance, Karl. Lieutenant Withers asked me to check you out. We need someone with your unique qualifications to take on a dangerous assignment behind the German lines in France.”

“What do you say, Aberbach?” said Col. Stone.

“I’m not sure I could pull it off.”

“I think you can. You’re more daring than you think,” said Janette. “And smarter than you pretend to be. “

Stone smiled at him. “Let us tell you exactly what we want you to do before you make up your mind, private.” Then, after a pause, “one of our operatives has been captured and imprisoned by the Gestapo in France. We would fly you into France, where you would parachute at a clearing where you would be met by a group of French underground members and taken to their hiding place. From there, you would work with them to free our operative. He is very important. He has the name of every German spy in Britain and Canada. His name is Oscar Renzetti, a Montrealer.”

He paused to see how Karl was taking it. “You would pose as a German soldier dressed as one, with papers to show that you were born in the Ruhr Valley. The German accent you inherited from your father and mother would be yours. No one would suspect unless something happens to make them suspicious of you. As a German soldier, it would be easier for you to enter the place where Renzetti is imprisoned and tortured.”

“If you would like a day to think about it, we would understand,” said Janette.

“I’m scared witless to tell you the truth, but I will go,” he blurted.

“Good,” said Stone. “I had a hunch you probably would. You’ll start training for your assignment in the morning. One thing more, Janette will be going with you. She is not only French-speaking but has relatives in the same town where you will be dropped.”

Karl left Stone’s office with Janette with his head spinning. “I was also sizing you up as a partner I could trust. They can’t replace us, you know. I’ve tried to find someone with your unique qualifications, and there are very few.”

They had lunch in the officers’ mess. Karl felt lightheaded and gripped her arm when they left. “Pack all your belongings and tell everyone in the morning that you’ve been posted. If anyone asks, tell them Halifax.” He saw her home before walking to his barracks.

They met the next morning outside the army headquarters before being picked up and taken to a place in the country. The car stopped outside a large house that fronted a stream. They looked around and could see no other homes and were met at the door by a man dressed in tights. He led them to their rooms and gave them special clothes for his exercises.

“You both need to be in top physical shape for your assignment. We’ll meet 15 minutes from now to begin.”

They walked down the stairs and into the special gym that soared two stories above them. It also came with a running track, weights, and ropes hanging from the ceiling. Their trainer, Donald Howe, who wore a pencil-thin black mustache with laughing bright blue eyes, had them walk three miles on the circular track before getting them to lift weights for 30 minutes. His voice was soft as he explained and showed them the best way to climb a rope.

By the time they stopped to eat at noon, their arms ached, and they were in no mood to repeat the morning’s exercises, halfway through lunch, which consisted of healthy foods and fruit juice and milk but no sweets, a woman, dressed in a CWAC uniform, stopped by their table.

She was a young woman, about Janette’s age, with a bright smile. “This afternoon, we will introduce both of you to the marvels of the wireless radio. We need you to be alert when we teach you how to set it up and send us messages over the airwaves. You probably could use an hour’s break to rest after this morning. The rest of the time you’re here, you will learn morse code until you can send messages in your sleep.”

“I’ll be waiting for you in Room 206 on the second floor. My name is Irene. Don’t be late.”

Janette was at his door five minutes before two o’clock. “Time to get

up and make our way upstairs.”

Irene was waiting for them outside her door. She was looking at her wristwatch. “We had better synchronize our watches. Mine says your three minutes late.” She led them into the room, filled with wireless radios, down between them and removed the hood from the radio. “Treat it with care. It could save your lives one day.”

She showed them how to set it up and how to start transmitting. “One important tip. Keep your messages short and to the point. And only send messages when it’s important. The fewer, the better. This will make it harder for them to track you down.”

She saw them both write down what she had said and smiled. “Now, I’d like you to meet Nancy Richard. She will go with you to London and will handle all your messages. She will know how each of you sends your messages and if the messages come from you.” She turned to see Nancy enter the room. She was no older than 21 and had blond curly hair, bright blue hypnotic eyes, and a gentle way of talking that people liked.

“I will teach you the Morse Code. Each letter consists of a series of dots and dashes. We will start today. If you have your notebooks ready, we’ll go through the entire alphabet, and you will try to send me a message on the radio transmitter.

When they retired to their rooms around eight o’clock, they were too tired to learn any of the Morse Code letters and fell to sleep almost immediately.

Karl and Janette found it surprisingly easy to master and even invented a way to send messages to each other using their fingers – using the long part of their fingers as dashes and the two smaller bones as dots.

Their last two weeks were spent at a special camp outside Toronto, where they trained to disarm someone or slit their throat in a few seconds. They both went through the motions. Their instructor could tell and repeatedly remind them that it might save their lives one day or help them escape.

Karl and Janette spent a week at their homes before flying to Brittain when they completed their training.

***

“We haven’t heard from you since you went away,” said Grete. “I was worried that they shipped overseas.”

“They’ve given us some extra training for a special assignment, and we were not allowed to communicate with our families. But let’s not waste our time on this. I have six days left before I report back.” He looked at

May. “I don’t see your child.”

“Her baby was taken away from her. Her parents and the man who took her to Toronto convinced a judge to have her daughter brought up by them,” said Hugh. “He claims to be the father, and his wife cannot have children. We haven’t heard anything from them or her child since then, even though May was to have her child for two days every month. They always find a way not to bring her to May.”

“I hear he’s an instructor at the Royal Military College in Kingston. I understand his father, who has friends in high places in Ottawa, made it all possible for him. Other officers or his students do not highly regard him.”

Later, he asked his father about Rhinehart.

“We haven’t heard from him since he called. That was over a year ago. God knows if he is still alive or where he is. But I’m not worried about Rhinehart. He’s always been able to look after himself. I’m more worried about you. I gather you’re being trained for a dangerous mission.”

“I can’t talk about it. It doesn’t involve a lot of fighting.”

“You look stronger now and more sure of yourself.”

Karl smiled and hugged his father. “I promise to be in touch with you and mutter, hopefully in a couple of months.”

When their plane landed in London, they were met by Col. Stone, who had flown ahead. He drove them to a hotel on the outskirts of London, where they had supper. “The food isn’t great, but the people here are.”

Karl looked down at the two small potatoes and a large piece of fish. The tea was hot and strong. It didn’t matter somehow. Adventure waited for them both, and he couldn’t wait to get it over.

“You’re both signed in here as a married couple, so act as though you were. We understand the Germans have spies all over the place. As far as everyone else is concerned, you come from a small town in the country and talk as little as possible. Have breakfast in your room in two days and come downstairs with your travel bags. A taxi will be waiting for you at precisely nine o’clock. The driver is a disguised British soldier who will drive you to an airfield some distance from London.

“You’ve been billeted here so that you can get to know each other in how the other person thinks, see their weak points, and bond. You’ll need all that before you return with Renzetti.”

The night before they were to leave, Janette rolled over. “I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I.” Then, after a pause, “I think we might as well get up

and order tea and toast. I’m hungry.”

“Talk to me about your parents,” she said.

“You’ve met my mother. “They emigrated to Canada around 1920 and never want to see German again. They warned my brother, Rhinehart, that Germany held only misery for him and them, but he saw his destiny with Hitler. There was no holding him back.”

When they finished the toast and tea, they felt tired and went to bed. They went to sleep almost immediately and were groggy when the alarm clock started ringing. Janette went to the toilet first to wash and brush her hair. She emerged in a skirt and blouse. Karl washed and shaved and was ready in a matter of minutes.

Jannette had ordered breakfast for their room and answered the knock on the door. An older man pushed in a cart and began placing their meal on the table when Karl emerged from the bathroom in time to see him suddenly flash a gun from beneath a tablecloth. He wheeled around when he heard the door of the bathroom close and aimed his pistol at Karl.

In that split second, Janette took one of the plates and smashed it over his head. He reeled, and his pistol fired as he fell to the floor. Janette kicked away his gun towards Karl, who picked it up and pointed it at him.

“Go down and get the taxi driver to come up to our room. It was getting close to nine. He held the gun on the man, who kept rubbing his head. He tried to get up.

“Stay where you are,” said Karl as he waited for Janette to return. She returned five minutes later with the taxi driver, who went to the man and helped him up. “Gerry is one of our people. He was sent here to see how you would behave in a situation like this.”

“He certainly scared me,” said Janette, who went into the toilet to get a wet cloth and dabbed Gerry’s head with it.

They left and boarded the taxi. Steveson was waiting for them and made room for them. “Sorry to put you through this. But we had to know how you would react in a similar situation in France. You two work great together as a team. “

They arrived at the airport outside London, where a lone Lancaster waited.

“You will board the plane as soon as it’s dark and fly to France, where you will make your jump. Let’s go inside the hangar, where you’ll be outfitted with new clothes from France and given ID cards.”

He turned to Karl. “You’ll be fitted for your German uniform and given ID papers. You both will have new names. Janette’s surname is a popular name in the area where you will be operating, and you will have a new

German name – the name of another German soldier who was assassinated by one of our operatives.”

Next, he laid out a detailed may of the area where they would jump and the locations of nearby towns. “The Maquis will be waiting for you, so don’t panic.”

They had lunch in the hangar and were joined by Nancy Richard, who would handle all their transmissions. The lunch was light, with Whiskey for their tea at the end.

Janette and Karl boarded the Lancaster with their hearts pounding. They sat on the same side and next to each other as two crew members helped them into their parachutes. They talked with their hands. Janette told him her heart was pounding, and Karl answered, so is mine.

About an hour later, a red light suddenly began to flash. One crew member helped them. Then green light flashed a few seconds later. Karl stood at the open hatch where he could see searchlights in front of them and hear exploding flack all around him. The crew member pushed him, and Karl suddenly found himself floating in the air. He tried to look up, saw Janette’s parachute open, and looked down into the darkness. Suddenly he could see the ground coming up fast in front of him as he prepared to roll as soon as he touched the ground.

Farther ahead, he saw Janette’s parachute land among some trees and other figures running to free her. Three men were suddenly around him, speaking in French. No one spoke. They took his parachute and buried it under one of the trees.

He saw her as soon as she emerged from the forest, talking French to the men who had freed her. They ran as soon as they saw each other and hugged.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rhinehart sat atop one of the passing tanks as they pushed 100 kilometres into Russia. There was nothing to stop them. They passed burning houses and churches along the way and people hiding in the forested area as 100 tanks had rolled through the area earlier. He looked back to see the trucks carrying his group keeping up with him and had to admit he loved war.

He could hear the sounds of Luftwaffe bombers passing over the town ahead as the forward tanks entered the town, shelling Russian artillery that had escaped the bombing. He would stop just outside the town and enter when resistance grew weaker. They entered slowly with three tanks leading the way, surrounding the Russian artillery that continued to lob shells at them.

He was about to attack when one of their fighters sent a rocket into the battery, killing several soldiers and wounding others. He raised his arm, and a group, led by Franke, overpowered the remaining battery crew.

They stopped for the night just outside the town, and Rhinehart went to the night briefing with other officers. He breathed in the smell of gun powder and ordered Jorg to rush into the town, where black clouds from burning dwellings and offices covered the intense blue sky. Within an hour, the town was theirs.

“Our goal is to take Moscow before winter sets in. That means a major push into the heart of Russia. We have only a few weeks left to make that happen. If we don’t, be prepared for a cold campaign where our tanks may get bogged down, and our soldiers find it hard to shoot their weapons. Any comments?”

Rhinehart raised his hand. “If we could get the Luftwaffe to bomb heavily armed areas for a week or so, it might speed things up for us.”

“Other suggestions?”

“Bombing their army camps and killing off as many of the enemy as possible would also help.”

“We have only a certain number of planes available for our front. But we’ll do our best.”

They reached the outskirts of Moscow just as winter set in. A heavy snowfall had bogged down trucks and supplies and the movement of troops. The troops were not clothed for the Soviet winter and were constantly warming themselves around barrels where fires had been lit. The snowstorms managed to seep into their tents, and they woke in the morning to find the water they used for shaving had been frozen.

Rhinehart, who understood winter weather, added two more layers under his tunic and went skiing after a snowstorm. It was too cold for the others to join him. Jorg and Franke stayed around their tents and draped themselves in blankets.

By January, several men had deserted and were walking back to Germany in small groups. Rhinehart convened a meeting with Jorg and Franke in his tent. He had found a kerosene lamp to give some heat, but they could still see their breaths. They wrapped their overcoats around them and put their hands close to the lamp for warmth.

Rhinehart’s tent was sparse. Other than his uniforms, he had only one photograph. He took this picture of his mother wherever he went since he left Canada and always said good night to her as he always did since he was a boy.

“We’re losing a dozen men every night. If this continues, we won’t have a command before long. We must talk to our men on the first day it isn’t snowing. We need a big tent in which to meet with them. How you find one is not my business. Just find one. And in a hurry.”

It took a week, but Jorg and Franke were able to negotiate the loan of a large tent from their medical unit with promises to bring it back when they returned. A dozen men went to work setting it up.

“Go among the men and find out who can sing, juggle, or whatever, and get them ready for a night everyone will remember. We missed out on Christmas. Next, find enough food for a meal they’ll remember. I don’t care how you get it. Just get it.

It took a day for a crew of men, working with frozen hands, to set up the tent. Everyone in camp was wondering what was up and desertions suddenly stopped. Jorg invited Rhinehart and Franke to join them inside when it was up. When you get 500 bodies inside, the heat off their bodies will provide all of us with warmth. Franke talked to the men about per-

forming.

“It isn’t an option. Who among your buddies can sing, even opera?’ the Major wants you to perform. If you decide not to, then you’ll have to explain it to him,” Franke told one young soldier who could play the violin.

He was able to create quite a lineup by the time he was finished. “Be at the tent at four o’clock, snow or no snow, to set everything up.”

The only hang-up was food. Just about every unit was in the same boat. The constant snowstorms made getting food to them difficult.

“Go into all the towns nearby and find enough food for 500 men. That includes a few cows we can butcher ourselves.”

Jorg and Franke looked at him in amazement. “What if the enemy attacks while we’re feasting ourselves.”

Rhinehart nodded. “In fact, I’m counting on it. Have you not noticed that our recent attacks are more difficult? I’m convinced that there is a Russian spy in our midst. But this time we will be ready for them. If I am right, he’ll send a message to them that we will be having a special dinner for all our troops, except that we will be eating in shifts. Two hundred men will set up machine tests at every weak spot and all our entrances. Also, position our Flack 88s nearby should they arrive with tanks. I’ve been looking for a way for us to leave here without being blocked. Our scouts tell us the Russians have quite a build-up and are waiting for an opportunity to raid us while we’re vulnerable.”

“Won’t that individual also inform them that they’ll be entering a trap?”

“I don’t think so. I have a suspect in mind. His name is Boris Bosko, who joined us in Poland. “I remember interviewing him at the time. He said he was being persecuted in Poland because he told people he admired Hitler and hoped we could invade Russia one day.”

“I know Bosko,” said Franke. “The only thing he missed about Poland was his family, who had disowned him. He’s fought hard and long for the Fuhrer.”

“I’ve reached a different conclusion, Lieutenant. I believe him to be a Russian in disguise, who was sent to join the SS so that he could be of use should we decide to invade them,” said Rhinehart.

“Won’t he tell his Russian friends of our trap?” said Jorg.

“You will escort Private Bosco to my tent one hour before everything gets underway. I will tell him we have selected him as master of ceremonies at tonight’s dinner. He will be with me and you in getting ready for tonight’s show where he will welcome everyone.” If I am right,” the enemy will walk into our trap. If I am wrong, we’ll change shifts with the men

outside.”

Everything was going as planned, and, if I’m right, he thought, they’ll be able to wipe out the large Russian contingent blocking their way back to Germany.

At five o’clock, Bosco appeared. “Lieutenant Franke said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yes, private. As you know, we’re having a special dinner and presentation for all of us tonight. We’d like you to act as master of ceremonies.”

Bosco smiled. He had a round face with deep blue eyes and a muscular build. His uniform made him look even more menacing. He had taken off his cap, and his black hair was longer and seemed to grow in all directions. He had a deep voice that drowned out the voices of his squad. He quickly became their spokesman.

He saluted and was about to turn when Rhinehart stopped him. “I’d like you to practise your intros for each presentation, so I can hear what you’re going to say.”

Jorg brought in a list of performers and what they would sing or perform and left. “I feel stupid talking to your empty chairs. Perhaps if I had a few of my buddies from my squad, I would do a better job.”

Rhinehart smiled. “No. Please stay where you are. I will send someone to get six members of your squad to come and listen. Go on while we bring them here.” He left his tent and ordered one of the soldiers outside his tent to bring six members of Bosco’s squad to his tent.

They arrived 15 minutes later and took off their caps as they entered Rhinehart’s tent. “Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I think we all agree that he has a voice like no other. Well, we’ve appointed him master of ceremonies at our entertainment and dinner tonight. He would like you to sit in front of him as he practises and let him know how he does.”

They saw the six chairs behind Bosco and sat down. Bosco stood and bowed. “My name is Boris Bosko, and I will be your master of ceremonies this evening. So let’s start with Corporal Heinrich Rothmann, who will play Beethoven for us. Rothmann walked to the stage and stood in front of everyone. His hands were shaking as he began to play Fur Elise.” There was polite clapping when he suddenly held his violin to his chin and began playing Lili Marlane. He next played one of their marching songs and had everyone singing again. He had the entire group singing, whistling and standing on their feet by the time he had finished, shouting “encore.”

“If you liked Henrich, then listen to what Herbert Bohm has in store for us,” said Bosco, red-faced and shaking. Bosko lowered the microphone for him. Rothmann started playing as he sang an aria from Wagner and a

popular prewar love song. Bosco was also clapping along with the others and waved everyone to take their seats.

Rhinehart had to admit it was even better than he thought. An accordion player and someone reciting Goethe followed Herbert. Rhinehart raised his hands. “It’s intermission time. A string of chefs is waiting at the entrance to the tent, carrying plates of beef and vegetables. Several other waiters offered spaghetti, cake slices, and beer glasses. The noise level after the first five minutes was deafening.”

The sound of an 88 going off stopped everything. Some of the soldiers grabbed their rifles and headed for the door. Rhinehart stood in front of the microphone. ‘Do not disturb yourselves. It would appear that the Russians found out about our party and decided to join us.”

Everyone laughed and sat down. Jorg appeared about 30 minutes later.

“They got the surprise of their lives when their first tank was knocked out of commission. So was the second one. Thanks to our machine gun placements, the soldiers following the tanks and those behind them were also killed. They weren’t ready for us and barely returned our fire. It was a slaughter. No casualties.”

“Keep them at their post. If what just happened to me, I would regroup, thinking that the enemy would not expect another foray against us. So, keep everyone with their hands on their triggers.”

Rhinehart rose again and faced the microphone. “I have a great announcement to make. You may have noticed that some of your comrades are not with us this evening. They are busy fending off a Russian attack on our camp. They will join us presently. But now, let’s go back to our entertainment.”

There was a roar of clapping and whistling as they quieted down as they saw Bosco arise and go to the microphone. There was a tremor in his voice as he introduced Rudolf Koch, a juggler who managed to keep four balls in front of him going as the audience threw buns at him.

Next, an imitator took over the microphone and addressed everyone in Rhinehart’s voice. “You all will be going home for Christmas.” “I have a special announcement to make.” He stood the way Rhinehart stood when he reviewed them.

No one laughed. A strange silence settled upon the room. Rhinehart could see what was happening and took over the microphone just as machine-gun fire echoed into the room and the sound of 88s going off.

He smiled. “We may not be going home, my friends, but we will be heading back to Germany for a rest. We’ve been fighting almost every day

since we invaded Poland. Now, eat up and give your other comrades a chance to dine the way you have. “

Franke rose at a nod from Rhinehart and went to the platform with two soldiers. Bosco was just stepping down when the soldiers grabbed him and tied his hands behind his back.

“What is going on?” he yelled at Rhinehart.

“I don’t think you need to be told, Bosco, if that is your real name.”

Franke took him away and placed him under guard in front of a fire with four soldiers sitting around him to make sure he did not try to sneak away. In the morning, he asked Franke to allow him to talk to Rhinehart. “I have information he might find useful.”

Franke shrugged. “I don’t think he’s in a forgiving mood. You may end up worse than being shot as a spy. But it’s up to you.”

Bosco clicked his heels and saluted Rhinehart. He was freshly shaven and wore a clean uniform. His unruly hair was combed, and he looked even younger.

“You wanted to see me?” Rhinehart used the harshed voice he could muster.

“I wanted to tell you I am not the spy you’re looking for.”

“That’s it?

“It’s important if you hope to get back to Germany.”

“That spy is one of your other men.”

“You know this how?”

“I heard someone cursing in Russian. I was in my tent and looked out to see one of our soldiers. He was the only one there and walking quickly away.”

“How do you know it was Russian?”

“My mother was Russian and my father, Polish. I grew up speaking both languages.”

Bosco knew he had Rhinehart’s full interest now. “I can tell you that if you do not get that man before you start back to Poland, you will be wiped out unless that man is found and shot.”

“Do you think you would recognize that man if you saw him?”

“I caught only a glimpse of the side of his face, but I would know his voice anywhere.”

Rhinehart nodded, sent for Franke and Jorg, and had Bosco repeat what he had told him.

“I don’t know, Major,” said Jorg, pushing back his blond hair that had fallen over his forehead. “It sounds great, but I don’t know enough about Bosco to give you an honest answer.”

“I believe him,” said Franke. His squad likes him. He told them his mother was Russian and was teaching some of them how to speak it.”

“If I may cut in,” said Bosco. “There’s an easy way to find out in a hurry.” He paused, knowing he had their full attention. “Announce tomorrow morning to all the troops that we will leave our camp tonight. I will be Lieutenant Franke’s shadow all day, before and after you make the announcement. I will not leave his side.”

Rhinehart looked at Franke. “What do you think?”

“I’m all for it. We’ll send a small group first ahead of us. If the spy tells them we’re leaving at three in the afternoon, you can be sure they’ll attack us when we are most vulnerable. If we’re attacked, we’ll know Bosco is not our man.”

“See to it. We’ll send the rest of our men after them and stay out of sight until and if the Russians attack. We should wipe out most of their soldiers and move our camp to another location with any luck. It will mean walking for a day and a half without sleep. Have all our men to get as much sleep tomorrow after I make the announcement.”

Everything was falling into his lap. It was all too easy, and it bothered him. He kept shaking his head. That’s when he decided to add a wrinkle of his own but keep it to himself until the last minute.

He had the imitator from the previous night brought to him. “Do you know any Russian?”

“Just enough to order my meal and make love to young ladies.”

“I want you to dress like a Russian peasant, go to the enemy camp, find out how many men they have, their weapons, their weak points and whether we could turn the tables and attack them.”

The imitator, Pte. Erich Saxer was mid-height, had brown hair, dark grey eyes, and a way of making people laugh. He spent the rest of the day gathering a pair of trousers with holes and a coat to match. He found it at one of the neighbouring farms and exchanged it for newer trousers and a coat.

He shared a pipe with the older man and laughed at his jokes. Erich found four potatoes and juggled them until the older man got dizzy. The older man supplied vegetables to the Russian camp, and Erick volunteered to help him. They walked around the encampment, allowing Saxer to make a mental note of everything.

Two Russian soldiers escorted them to the vegetable bin and saw them to the gate. Saxer returned with many details – where they positioned their gun placements and machine guns at the entrance where they kept four horses. Horses could make it through the snow when their vehicles were

bogged down in the snow and ice.

Rhinehart smiled when he heard that most soldiers were sleeping in a small barracks. He sent for Jorg and Franke. “I sent Pte. Saxer to the Russian camp. He found out where they placed their guns and machine-gun nests, and most of the soldiers were asleep in the camp barracks. We’re going to change everything. Instead, tell them to get ready to move first thing in the morning. Instead of going West, we’ll head North and surprise the hell out of them. As soon as we’ve destroyed their camp, we’ll head South and West and keep going until we reach Germany.”

The soldiers were roused from their beds at five o’clock the next morning and given one hour to wash, eat and pack for the journey. It wasn’t until they were all assembled that Rhinehart announced that they would be going into battle. “We’re going to attack the enemy while they’re still sleeping. Their camp is a couple of kilometres away.”

He led them through the gate and into the snow. Walking was hard, and many soldiers were slipping and falling into the snow. Ninety minutes later, they came in sight of the Russian camp.

“Hold your guns above your heads. We’ll slide down and assemble outside the back wall, Franke said. The Major will lead us to the entrance, and we’ll all rush in and kill as many Russian soldiers while they’re still in their beds.”.

They ran through the entrance before the soldiers in the machine-gun nest realized what was happening and took charge of the Russian artillery. Jorg led them to the barracks, shooting every soldier in sight. They then headed for the officers’ quarters. The officers could see what was happening, armed themselves with machine guns, and fired at them. Rhinehart saw how his soldiers were being shot from the officers’ quarters and ordered his mortar team to blast their barracks. Within minutes the officers ran from their quarters with their arms above their heads.

“Tie them up. We may need them before we reach Germany,” said Rhinehart. “And release the horses in the barn. They can carry our wounded to our camp where they can get proper attention.”

The officers walked back with Rhinehart and had Bosco join them so that he could talk to them. “Let me know if they say anything interesting.”

Bosco listened as they talked. “They’re planning to escape tonight.”

Rhinehart smiled. “I’m interested if they mention where they plan to escape. There aren’t any villages close by. Perhaps a hidden camp we don’t know about.”

“I don’t think so, Major.”

“Perhaps if you offered them some Schnapps after supper tonight,

they might be more talkative.”

When they returned to their camp, he sent for Saxer. “Bosco is translating for me. I will need you to come and listen to them as well. But do not let them know that you can understand Russian. When Bosco is not present, they might reveal something we may need to hear before we set out.”

He still hadn’t made up his mind about Bosco. Time would tell.

Bigger challenges lay ahead. Snowstorms could decimate his ranks just as easily as bullets. Two of the horses could haul the two 88s while the other two could be used to pull sleds for the wounded. He made a mental note to have the sleds made before they set out. He scanned the sky and listened to his radio reports about five sunny days ahead.

Everyone was anxious to get moving. Almost everyone had frost bites and took longer to get ready than usual. But everyone was humming, and they were getting ready to move. Rhinehart had asked them to give him ten kilometres a day and spoke about being able to sleep in deserted houses they would see. They were going home, and that was all that mattered.

They started singing in the morning. There was no snow forecast, and the temperature rose above zero. Some men with frostbite in their fingers had trouble holding onto their guns and needed help from comrades. Bosco led the way with Rhinehart. He had the Russian officers give him their fur coats and used them to cover the wounded.

Some of the men began calculating how much closer they were to the German army every day. A member of Bosco’s squad had a map and a red pencil to show everyone.

On the sixth day, a blinding snowstorm halted their march. Makeshift tents sprung up to get them out of the storm. Saxer went to Rhinehart’s tent and told them he thought the Russian officers were planning something. “They were very secretive suddenly and stopped talking in my presence. There is no way they would know I can understand them unless someone had told them.”

It snowed all that day and night. The horses stood in the middle of a huge snowdrift, and Rhinehart went out to check on them. The cold air made his lungs ache. But the sky was blue, and he had Franke and Jorg rouse the men and get ready for travelling again. “I have a feeling our Russian friends are getting ready to make a move. Add a few more men around the horses.”

They were getting ready to go when one of the Russian officers produced a machine gun and aimed it directly at Rhinehart. “We are leaving and taking you with us.”

Rhinehart walked up to him and slapped his face. He grabbed the ma-

chine gun and whacked the back of his head with it. He pointed at the others, who rose and rushed Rhinehart, taking away the machine gun and throwing him onto the ground.

They pointed it at him and the wounded and demanded the return of their horses. “You have ten minutes to release our horses from the sleds and provide food for our journey. If you fail to do so, we will kill your Major and anyone else who gets in our way. “

Franke looked at Jorg and nodded. “It might take a bit longer than ten minutes. The harness is a bit stiff with the ice,” said Franke.

“Just hurry up, and while you’re at it,” said one of the Russians, holding his coat close to his body and shivering, “return our fur coats.”

The Russian with the machine gun looked at the soldier picking up their fur coats. Rhinehart used his leg to trip him, and he fell atop him. The other Russian officers crowded around them, grabbed the machine gun, and pulled the trigger. The bullets made an outline in the snow around Rhinehart’s head.

Someone behind them ordered them to stop in Russian. They turned to see Bosco pointing his machine gun at them. “Drop the gun and get ready to walk. There will be no midday meal for any of you.” He walked towards them and knocked the machine gun out of his hands. “Now, get ready to move.”

“Take their coats and let them march without them. If they wish, they have our blessing if they want to leave them in the middle of nowhere. If they want their coats back,” said Rhinehart, “let them know they will lose their jackets should they try to attack one of us again and left to freeze to death.”

When they stopped for lunch, they huddled around a fire in one of the tents and asked to see the Major. Bosco came with Rhinehart. “We deeply regret what we did this morning. We want you to know that we will not cause any more problems. We need each other. Your troops are as accustomed to very cold temperatures as you are and will die if they do not get back to warmer weather. At that time, we request that you set us free with our horses and enough food for them and us to reach our lines.”

“I agree but be forewarned, my superiors may have other ideas.”

A week later, everyone could feel the warmth in the air. The snow disappeared after a few days, but the ground was frozen. The wounded men were recovering, and some of them were able to join the others in their march.

Ahead, they spotted a deserted house. They entered to find the first floor covered with glass from the broken windows. Rhinehart walked

down to the cellar and found it barely touched. He turned to Jorg. “We’ll spend the night here. Find some wood and light a fire.”

“Where will the smoke go?” said Jorg.

“If we leave the cellar door open, they’ll escape to the first floor and the fresh air. The cellar was packed. The cook made tea boiled over the fire, warming the basement and the heat from the cramped bodies of almost 500 men who occupied the floor and the stairs.

The next morning, Rhinehart went upstairs to look at the sky. The sky was a dark grey with the smell of new snow in the air. He returned to tell his men to expect snow and to pass the day resting and warming themselves. The clouds disappeared in the afternoon, and the sky was a bright blue, except for some darkness towards the West. When he returned to the cellar, he ordered the soldier who carried their transmitter to set it up.

Pte. Zeller bowed his head. “ You may recall that our battery died the last time you used it, Major. Sorry.” Zeller was thin and walked with a slight stoop. He tended to smile when he talked to anyone. He unpacked the transmitter. “But perhaps it may come alive for the Major.” Rhinehart flicked the switch of their DMG 2 T pack transmitter, which had a range of 50 kilometres. Nothing happened.

“We must have a few spare batteries,” said Rhinehart. “I distinctly recall packing six extra batteries myself. We haven’t used it that much. Look around and see what you can find.”

Zeller nodded with a smile and left to check his pack to see if one or two had escaped his notice. Bosco followed him out as Zeller headed for their hastily built latrine. He waited outside until Zeller was finished and could hear him swear in Russian when he dropped the transmitter.

Zeller spotted Bosco and held up a new battery. “The major will be pleased.”

“I’m sure he will,” said Bosco, following him inside the building and down the steps where breakfast was being served. Zeller waved to him and showed him the new battery. He sat it on the floor and inserted it in the transmitter before passing it to Rhinehart.

Zeller nodded and left them. Bosco remained behind and sat down next to Rhinehart. “I followed Zeller to the lavatory and heard him send a message on your transmitter.” He paused for a few seconds, “I distinctly heard him swear in Russian when he accidentally dropped the transmitter.”

The pupils in Rhinehart’s eyes grew smaller and the colour drained from his face. “Track him down and ask him to join Lieutenant Franke and me outside near the latrine. Do not tell him anything more.”

Rhinehart waved to Franke and whispered to him before standing and going out into the yard. Pte. Zeller arrived a few minutes later with a smile. “I was glad I could find a battery for you, Major. I hope you got your message through.”

Rhinehart smiled. “I hope you got your message through as well.”

Zeller’s face drained. Then he saw Franke remove his luger from his side and press the barrel against Zeller’s forehead.

“Now, Pte. Zeller. What were you able to send to our enemy?” said Rhinehart.

Zeller didn’t respond.

“You have ten seconds; if we don’t hear what you sent, you will be a dead man.”

Zeller started to sweat, closed his eyes, and spoke in a low voice.

“Speak up if you want to live,” said Franke.

“I told a Russian patrol that has been following us ever since we left the camp where we were and in what direction we would be heading today.”

Rhinehart walked away with his hands behind his back. He was nearing the building when the shot from Franke’s luger broke the silence.

Chapter Twenty-Five

They boarded on the back of an old truck and were covered in hay. Some of it found its way in Karl’s mouth, and he kept spitting it out as more and more hay was loaded over them. “They need to do this just in case we get stopped,” said Janette. “One of our friends told me that we’re being taken to a safe house on the outskirts of the town. We’ll be able to relax then. But you’re going to scare the pants off them once they see I’m with a German soldier.”

A half-hour later, the truck wheeled into the driveway of an old house with a single light in their parlour. “The Germans visited there once, I understand, and searched the place and left them in peace ever since. They are old and have bad memories.”

The Bertins opened the door and waited for their guests to come inside. Maria Bertin’s hands shook, and her husband, Pascal, grasped everyone’s hands and led them into their parlour.

Almost everyone froze once Karl came into the light. Janette grabbed his arm and started talking. “My friend has a very difficult mission to carry out. Our officers thought it might help him in his mission. He comes from Canada and can speak German but no French.”

Maria’s hands shook as she rose, went to the sink, and poured water into a large dipper over the stove to heat it for their tea.

Claude Roussel sat down beside Karl. He was handsome and knew it. His black curly hair and he had a seductive voice.“Have you ever been to Montréal? I would like to go there one day. What is it like?”

“We stopped there for a couple of days on our way here. It is French-speaking. Janette can speak both French and English. But the place to go to is Québec City. They have a hotel there called the Chateau Frontenac. It’s almost like being in France.”

“And les demoiselles?”

René Benoit sat beside him and offered him a French cigarette. Karl thanked him and smelled it before accepting a light. When he inhaled it, he started coughing almost immediately. “That’s very strong tobacco.”

“We like them strong,” said Julian Renault, another group member. René pulled out his “squeeze box” and played old French songs. They all laughed and sipped the tea.

Everything ended with the singing of La Marseillaise.

“We wouldn’t dare do this in town,” said René. “But out here in the country with no one else within ten kilometres near us, we can sing our heads off.

They shook hands as they left, leaving Janette and Karl with the Bertins.

“In the morning,” said Pascal, “I will show where you can hide should we have unexpected and uninvited visitors.”

Janette slept on the parlour floor and Karl in the kitchen. They were awakened by the shadows of trees dancing in the wind outside. The house seemed to sway with the fierce gusts that cooled the floors. Janette rose and wrapped her blanket around her.

In the morning, the fierce winds had gone and left behind a heavy rain that somehow managed to find its way inside. They shivered as they washed in cold water and put on their clothes.

“I’ll go into town first. You might be stopped and asked to produce your papers. I have relatives here and will find out where the Germans keep the man we’re after.”

“I’ll be here at four if you need a ride back.” Claude arrived around ten o’clock and drove her into town. He reached for her hand as they entered the city and put his arm around her shoulder as they left the car close to where her relatives lived.

Sasha Vasseur was a cousin of her mother. She looked down the list of people. Sasha’s name was on the fourth floor. Salle Huit. She pressed the buzzer and was let in. Jeanette found the stairway and walked to the fourth floor. She stopped at the door with a large metal eight, knocked on the door, and waited.

The door opened a crack. “Oui?”

“My name is Janette Millet. My mother, who lives in Ottawa, asked me to look you up. I’m here on a special assignment. I’m here with someone else, and we may need a place to go in a real hurry. You’ll like him.”

“Come into the kitchen, and we’ll talk over a cup of tea.” Sasha led her into the kitchen and sat at her table. “I have often thought of your mother.

We played together when we were young girls. She was pretty. You take after her.” She poured them a second cup and sat back. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like you to show me around your area, the Natzi prison, and nearby places we would disappear into should we be chased.”

“Your mother and I knew every one of these places when we played games.” Sasha stood, “it’s time now to help you find your way.” She then went into her washroom, applied makeup, and brushed her hair.

Let me apply your makeup and brush your hair in the latest French style when she finished. The one you’re wearing is a dead giveaway.”

Sasha took her arm on the street, and they headed for the prison. They walked by slowly before heading into the next lane to show Janette several places close by where they could hide without being detected.

They passed by a sidewalk café. Four German officers clapped when they saw them and invited them for dinner in halting French. Sasha returned their offer with a smile.

Janette returned for supper, still excited by everything she saw. “I met Sasha, my mother’s cousin, and she walked me around the prison and places where we could hide in an emergency. She would love to meet you, and I told her we would come to see her tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best course for us,” said Claude. “See Sasha tomorrow and tell her our friend has come down with a bad cold. Shasha is your cousin, and she’ll make sure she looks after you, but my instincts tell me she might go rogue to help her German friends. I’d be very careful what you tell her about us.”

“I don’t think she would do that.”

“You can never tell with people, especially if she is romantically interested in one of the soldiers. Many things pass between people when they’re in bed. In the meantime, take a walk around the area and get to know it better before we walk around as a couple.”

Janette decided not to see Sasha and spent her time getting a feel of the area, the entrance where they brought prisoners, other exits and entry points, where they post soldiers and where their cells are located.

As she rounded the corner, she noticed someone following her for the first time. She had seen this figure dressed in an SS black uniform previously. She walked away from the area and stood at a store window to notice if he were still following her.

She decided to walk toward Sasha’s apartment, stopping at her buzzer to see him lighting a cigarette on the corner. Sasha let her in, and Janette walked up the stairs to her apartment.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Sasha asked.

“He’s come down with a cold and hopes to see you sometime soon. When I left, he was coughing his chest out. Do you have a doctor I could use to prescribe something for him?”

“I don’t, but I have friends who do. I’ll ask them and let you know when you come next. But let’s not talk about serious things. Talk to me about your boyfriends.”

“I only have one boyfriend. That’s my friend. Never had any others.”

“Then let me introduce you to some very handsome German officers who would die to take his place.”

Janette shook her head. “I know you mean well, Sasha, but I am happy with Karl.”

“You’re no fun. Is he like you?”

“Let’s not talk about men. I’d like you to take me to some of the shops you frequent.”

Sasha clapped her hands. “Now you’re talking. I suppose you have no money. I have enough German money for both of us. It’s what the shopkeepers want these days.”

They walked arm-in-arm along the street with a bounce to their step. The flowers were out, and the sweet scent from the blossoms planted in the centre of the street made them feel giddy. A car screeched to a halt beside them, and a loud voice shouted “Sasha”.

They turned to see Captain Fuchs waving at them. “Join me for lunch.”

Sasha nodded and pulled Janette to the back seat with Fuchs. He tapped the driver’s shoulder, and they headed down the road, following two trucks with soldiers before turning right onto the roadway that took them up to Montmartre. The driver stopped at the Captain’s favourite restaurant and jumped out to open the door for them.

Janette paused to look down at the city. Fuchs saw the wonder in her eyes and took her arm. “The three of us will take a stroll and perhaps visit the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur de Montmarte. Would you like that?”

Janette nodded and studied his face for a few seconds. He had a thin look, and his dark brown hair was beginning to show streaks of grey. Fuchs was a Prussian, very authoritative in his speech and how he did things. He wore a monocle, which he slipped in his shirt pocket.

A waiter, wearing a white shirt, ushered them to a table just outside, where they had a full view of the city. He placed menus on their plate and stood back. “Perhaps while you are making up your minds, we could tempt you to try a new Rhine wine?”

Fuchs nodded, and the waiter left, returning a few minutes later with

a bottle wrapped in a towel. He poured a glass for Fuchs, who tasted it, smiled and nodded as their waiter began to fill their glasses.

They all ordered the chicken and fresh-made bread and a salad with an Italian dressing for lunch. When dessert came, Fuchs leaned toward them, “I would like your opinion of this restaurant. Colonel Wallner, my superior officer, will be expecting our prison tomorrow, and I would like to take him to lunch. Do you think he would meet his expectations?”

Janette and Sasha nodded. “Tell your waiter you have a special guest who will be joining him for lunch tomorrow and wants a table that will show him what Paris looks like in all its beauty,” said Sasha.

He looked at Janette, who smiled back at him. “Depending on his appetite, I’d suggest a more hearty lunch.”

Fuchs laughed and kissed both their hands. “I also think he might enjoy your company. It will certainly put him in a good mood. What about it, Sasha?”

Sasha looked at Janette, who was also nodding. When they left the restaurant, he ordered his driver to follow them as they walked along the streets of Montmartre toward the Basilica and vendors offering freshly cooked barbeque chicken and newly baked bread. They came in sight of the Basilica ten minutes later.

Janette stopped at the white-domed Basilica and held her breath. It was even more wonderful than she imagined it. They walked down the aisle and at the altar and the paintings before lighting a candle and leaving. Outside, the sun had grown stronger, and Sasha pulled down the brim of her hat to keep the sun away from her face.

They boarded the car, and Fuchs dropped them off at Sasha’s apartment. Sasha was smiling all the way back. There was a smell of spring in the air, and she breathed in its warmth. “He is a wonderful man, and so are many of his fellow officers. I see no harm in dining with them. All they want is my company.” She paused to look at Janette. “I think Fuchs is interested in you. You could do well to be his friend.”

Later in the afternoon, just before Janette was leaving, “if you plan to join Fuchs tomorrow for lunch, he’ll send a car for us. So be sure to get here by 11 o’clock.”

“I’ll be here. You can count on me.”

Janette was smiling when she returned to the farmhouse outside the city. She heard her name mentioned. Karl was pacing the floor while the others they had met earlier were talking among themselves. She hung up her jacket and turned to them.

“You all look like chickens in a chicken coop ready to have their necks

chopped off. Out with it.”

“They came to tell me they saw you and your cousin drive off with a German officer. They’re concerned that you have fallen in with our enemy.”

“Well, gentlemen, while you were back here wringing your hands like old women, Sasha and I have been invited to have lunch with the colonel in charge of the prison. He is coming here tomorrow, and I intend to use his visit as our way into the prison.”

“What about Sasha?”

“She thinks I’m interested in entertaining German officers along with her. The moment we free our prisoner, I will offer her a seat on the plane that will take us back or leave her here.”

René shook his head. “She’s bound to catch on before we even set out to free him.”

“Here is my plan. When I’m introduced to the colonel, I will ask him for his card and sign it for me as a memento of our meeting.” She turned to René, “do we have a printer we can trust? I want them to print two or three copies of his letterhead and someone to forge his signature in the same colour of ink.”

She looked at Karl. “Here’s the hard part. You will go in your uniform with these gentlemen and show the guard to unlock Mr. Roszetti’s cell that you’ll be transporting him to Berlin for questioning.”

She turned back to René, “and on the night before we do this, we need to transmit Britain and arrange for a plane to pick us up at nightfall. What is the best place for a plane to land and take off?”

René took out a map of the area and unfolded it on the table. “Here,” he pointed. “There’s a large field for a safe landing and take off.”

Claude lit a cigarette and gave it to her. Like Karl, she began to cough with her first breath. He poured her a tall glass of wine, which she sipped slowly.

“Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“Yes, Claude. We need German uniforms that will fit you guys.”

“We’re ahead of you, Janette. We already have them .”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rhinehart looked at Bosco, whom he had just promoted as Sargeant. Do you think that he was able to get a message off?”

“Not sure. He dropped something. I think the transmitter, and that seemed to end everything. What he was able to do before he dropped it, I can’t say for sure. If he did, the message would have been very short.”

Rhinehart knew he had to do some hard thinking. He mentioned his fears to Jorg and Franke. They couldn’t stay where they were. One good bomb or a well-placed artillery shell could wipe them out.

“Let’s assume that he did get a message through. What would we do?”

“Get out of here as quickly as possible,” said Jorg. Franke agreed.

“Tell the men to pack up. We need to be far from here by tomorrow morning.”

Rhinehart could hear the men grumbling from his tent, but they were ready and in marching order an hour later. They set out immediately, using flashlights to light the way and avoiding areas where the snow had drifted. Around midnight, they could hear planes roar and the bombs setting fire to their old building. The soldiers stopped, looked back, and picked up their speed when the bombing ended. The sound of Russian planes disappeared into the night.

The men started to sing some marching songs as they manoeuvred around the drifts and picked up their pace even faster. Rhinehart walked back to move their 88s closer to the front. If any planes suddenly appear above us, assume they are Russian and try to knock them down.

By dawn, they had put at least ten kilometres between them and the building that was bombed. Everyone was exhausted, but he sent word to Jorg and Franke to tell their Sergeants there would be a short halt for

breakfast. After that, they would push on until lunchtime, when they could eat and rest until nightfall.

Bosco had his squad build a wall of snow around them and covered a makeshift roof with snow. Jorg did the same with his men. “If the Russians discover that we were not bombed, they’ll be on the lookout for us. We’ll put more miles between us tonight and hopefully out of their range.”

On the third day, everyone needed to have a long sleep and rest. Rhinehart ordered a hearty meal and had them sleep in their tents, which they covered with snow. The next morning they ate and were on the march again. The snow was lighter, and they made a better time.

It was just after lunch, and they were on the march again, when Rhinehart spotted a skier dressed in a white uniform with a rifle strapped to his back slide down the hill on their right. At least 100 more skiers followed him.

He yelled out to Jorg and Franke to tell their men to lie down and get ready to shoot the Russian skiers, who had unstrapped their rifles and were already shooting at them. Many of the soldiers had already done this and were returning fire.

A second wave appeared at the head of the hill, and a third wave was getting ready behind them. Rhinehart ran down the line to get his two 88s shelling the Russian skiers. They didn’t wait for his order and were already shelling groups of skiers before they reached their line. Bosco’s men were lobbing mortar bursts at them while the machine gunners sprayed the hill with bullets.

Rhinehart looked up and saw a squadron of MIG3s getting ready to dive down at them. He called out to the crews operating his 88s to focus on the planes diving down at them. The first 88 knocked out the lead MIG before it could bomb and spray them. A second MIG dropped its bomb, sending a wave of bullets at their line. The third lane was hit and veered off to the left. At the same time, another MIG managed to doge everything and put one of the 88s and its crew out of commission when it crashed into them. The last MIG headed away after dropping a bomb that missed them.

The hill was strewn with bodies. The waves of skiers suddenly stopped. Rhinehart had his men move away from the scene as quickly as possible, leaving the bodies of fallen comrades in the snow as they marched away.

No one spoke. Rhinehart’s men quickly marched away from the carnage, hoping they would not have to face another battle before night set in when they would eat. Rhinehart was looking for a large enough bare ground area to set up their tents.

His seven chiefs waited to see him outside his tent until Jorg and

Franke left. They entered to find him talking to Bosco. Rhinehart looked at them. “Out with it.”

“We have only enough food left for one more meal. We thought you should know this.”

“Noted, and thank you for letting me know. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

When they left, he turned to Bosco. “Do you or do you know who can operate our wireless transmitter?”

“I think I can, but it’s some time since I learned it. I’m willing to try.”

Rhinehart had it stored with him since they left their camp. He pointed to it in the corner of his tent. See what you can do.”

Bosco turned it on.

“It’s only good for 50 kilometres, but see if you can raise someone.”

Bosco sent a message in German for anyone to respond to him and waited. Five minutes later, the transmitter lit up. “We are a German group. How can we help you?”

“We are about 100 kilometres from Poland and have run out of food. Can you have someone drop us some by plane in the morning?”

“Your signal is very weak, but we have your message and will pass it along to our group in Poland.”

Bosco looked at Rhinehart and smiled. Rhinehart smiled back. “I’m sure,” said Rhinehart, “the rest of the men have found out about our food situation. So get the word out that we’re looking for one of our planes to drop us some food in the morning.”

The transmitter began to rattle again, and Bosco picked up its earphones to listen to the message and messaged back. “Plane should reach your location around nine o’clock.”

The entire camp was up by eight and scanning the sky for the plane. Bosco sniffed the air. “I smell snow,” he said to Franke.

“Just our luck.”

It started about 15 minutes later. Most of them returned to their tents and waited until they heard the sounds of a plane. Rhinehart had them build fires on the ground around their area. Close to nine o’clock, they could hear the sounds of an aircraft as it passed by them. Rhinehart had them put more logs on the biggest fire. “Make it as big as possible so that they might see it through the snow. He looked at Bosco, who went to the transmitter and sent a message to the plane.

Ten minutes later, they could hear the plane’s engines, this time flying closer to the ground. When it passed over their heads, it started to release the parachutes. At least 25 large containers fell at different places around

the camp. The soldiers dragged them to cook’s wagons.

They were stocked with fresh vegetables, fruit, flour for making bread, pork and chicken, and even a large bottle of Cognac.

The snow stopped just after one o’clock when the chefs went around the camp, dishing out beef stew and fresh bread along with mugs of tea.

They set out soon after, wading through the fresh-fallen snow. It was tough slogging for the first two hours. A German fighter flew overhead to check on them. He flew close enough to them and waved. They waved back and cheered. They walked into to darkness, stopping to have supper. The band of snow they had waded through had disappeared, and the rest of the night, the walking much easier. There were some patches of ice here and there, and the moon was out.

They started to sing again. They were now in German-occupied territory and covered the remaining 40 kilometres with smartness. When they reached the German border, Rhinehart went on ahead by himself. Heinrich Himmler had sent him a message to return, leave his men, and fly directly to Berlin for a meeting.

He met with Jorg and Franke and told them they were in charge and to press onwards to Warsaw. “I have a message from Heinrich Himmler, ordering me to fly to Berlin for an urgent meeting. I have no idea what he has in store for us, but my best guess is we’re needed more to turn the tide in Italy. At least there won’t be snow to deal with.”

A car and driver were made available to drive to Warsaw, where a plane would take him to Berlin. The drive through the Polish countryside was relaxing as they went down dirt roads onto the main highway to Warsaw. They drove as fast a speed as possible. Three hours later, Rhinehart could see the church spires of Warsaw. The traffic was heavy until they reached the outskirts and turned off the road to the airport.

His driver headed for a lone passenger plane on the runway. A young woman opened the cabin door and put down the stairs for him. He climbed aboard as the pilot started the engine. He was shown a seat by the woman. It was next to a small window that offered him a sight of the runway and the hills beyond. He put his head back against his seat and closed his eyes as he felt the plane lift from the ground.

Rhinehart was awakened by the jolt when the plane landed in Berlin. The pilot had wired ahead for a car to meet them as Rhnehart walked down the set of stairs to the pavement. There was a chill wind, and he folded his collar around his neck as he walked to the car, where the driver was holding the door open for him.

Rhinehart was unfamiliar with the streets of Berlin and saw that it had

been bombed and the incredible number of dwellings that had been devastated. Thirty minutes later, the driver helped him out of the car and pointed him to the door to Himmler’s office. Rhinehart nodded and walked briskly to the door. Inside, two soldiers with machine guns dressed in black SS uniforms stopped him to examine his credentials and remove his sidearm.

There was a second set of doors to go through, guarded by two soldiers with machine guns, who also examined his credentials and admitted him. Inside was a young woman also dressed in a black SS uniform.

“Major Aberbach? You’re expected. Go up the stairs to the second floor and turn right. Herr Himmler’s office is 204. Go inside without knocking.”

Himmler looked up to see who was entering. He rubbed his hands together and pushed back his black-rimmed glasses. “Major Aberbach?” he said with a smile.

Rhinehart nodded and sat in front of him. Himmler’s desk was bare and shone in the light from behind his desk. There was a large picture of Hitler on the sidewall, with the lamp above it, making his picture seem he was looking down at you.

“We called you here to reassign you and your group. We’ve decided to place our border at the Russian border to Poland. It will be far more defensive, and the winters will not be so brutal.

“We will also be giving you a larger group to lead. You will have 2,000 men under your command and be posted in France.”

“France?” Rhinehart blurted.

“Yes. What did you expect? Poland? We have information that Britain will launch an invasion against us.”

Rhinehart smiled. “When will this take place?”

“You are not to mention this to anyone. Understood?”

Rhinehart nodded. “What about my men?”

“You will return to them and lead them to Germany, where you and your men will be given a 30-day leave and reassemble at Cologne, where you and your men will board a train for France.”

‘What can I tell my men?”

“That they will march to Berlin, where everyone will be given a 30-day leave and to reassemble at Cologne 30 days later. That’s all.”

“If you have any other questions, just call me once you’ve crossed into Germany.”

The woman at the desk below stopped him. “A car is waiting for you to take you to the airport.”

“Col. Sandweiss was sitting in the back seat waiting for him. “I wasn’t aware it was for you, Major.” There was a stiffness in his voice that sug-

gested displeasure.

“I was called to a meeting, and I’m on my way back to my men.”

“Really. I wasn’t aware of this. Do you mind telling me what it was about?”

“I was asked to keep the contents of my meeting to myself.”

“Really. Can you at least tell me if it involves me in any way?”

“It was about my men, colonel. That’s all I can say.”

Their car went over a bump

Col. Sandweiss’s mouth tightened, and he looked away. “One day, your luck will run out, Major, and I hope I will be there to witness it.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Karl reached into the inside pocket of his uniform and produced an envelope for the guard to see. The guard, a young man of about 18, with high colour on his cheeks, light brown hair, and hazel eyes that stared holes in you, opened the envelope and noted Col. Wallner’s signature and the order to release one of their prisoners to his guard for questioning. He saluted and let them inside.

Inside, they met another guard who took them down to the cell where Renzetti was locked up. The guard entered his cell and roused him from the cot where he had been sleeping. The air was foul and smelled like old urine. One of the men who came with Karl took out his handkerchief and put it to his nose.

Karl looked at him and barked at him in German. “We’re not in a perfume factory, private and stand at attention. Renzetti wiped his eyes and staggered out with the guard.

“You are being transferred to another prison for questioning. The guard poked his bayonet into Renzetti’s arm. “Hurry up. And good riddance.” He drew back his arm and slapped him hard across the face. Renzetti was in his late 60s. His black and grey beard showed the lines on his face, and he walked with a slight bent. He grabbed the soldiers’ arms for

balance as they walked up the stairs and into the waiting car.

Claude started the car and left just as the alarm bells started ringing in the prison. Claude knew all the back streets and turned down one street and up another to leave a confusing trail, bringing the car to a halt at a rundown garage. An older man waved to them and opened the doors, and their vehicle slipped inside before the doors closed again. Sweat was dripping off Renzetti’s nose. Hearing them talk in French, Renzetti perked up. He watched them shed their German tunics and don their usual clothes.

René helped him out. Janette poked her head into the garage. “He needs a good bath,” Claude shouted.

Janette helped him out of the car and led him into the old house next door. “Take off your clothes and sit in the tub while I wash you. You stink,” she said to him in French.

She dried him with a large towel and threw him some of the older man’s clothes. “Dress while I prepare us something to eat.” She looked out the window to see several cards and motorcycles pass by and smiled. She knew he had to be moved as soon as possible. The best time would be in the evening, and she bundled up his old clothes and lit fire to them behind the garage. She returned to see Karl and the others talking in the kitchen.

She pointed to Karl. “It’s time to send a message to your girlfriend. Tell her we need a plane to pick us up at the designated place at two in the morning.” Karl left and placed the transmitter on the table and turned it on. He was faster and better at it than Janette and instantly transmitted the message. A few minutes later, the transmitter started to send a message.

Plane will arrive at two o’clock at the designated place.

One of Claude’s friends was at the door. “Just to alert you. They’re doing a house-to-house search.”

He left, and Claude watched him walk the road as though he were on an evening stroll. “We need to hide our friend and ourselves.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” said Janette.

“We need to hide the car as well. Put it in the pigpen and cover it with a tarp at the farthest end. They’re not likely to wade through that mess,” said Claude.

They hid between the cows and forked down some hay to suggest they might be up in the loft.

They came about 20 minutes later, searched the house, and found the transmitter. The officer with them sat down with the old man. “Where did you get this?”

The old man did not reply. The officer slapped him across the face and began beating him. His wife attacked the officer. One of the soldiers pulled her away. The officer took out his Luger and pressed it to his head. “Tell me, old man, or I will pull the trigger.”

His wife clawed at his arm. “Spare him, and I will tell you about them.”

The officer left her husband go, and he stood beside her. “They forced us at gunpoint to feed them, and they left about five minutes before you came.”

“Did you see which direction they went?”

“To the West. They were in a real hurry. You must protect us from people like this,” said his wife.

“I watched them go. I don’t know what is in young people’s heads now.”

The officer sat back. “Then why were you reluctant to tell us about them?”

“Because they threatened to come back and kill us if we told anyone they were here,” said the old man.

“Should they return, I want you to call us immediately. They can’t escape and may come back this way,” said the officer as he got into his car. “They’re still lying to us. I think they are still there somewhere. I want you to post six men in the driveway, and if they try to escape, we will have them before they know it.”

Janette and Karl emerged from their hiding place and into the house at nightfall and entered to see the old man and his wife sitting in their rocking chairs waiting for them. Janette and Karl sat down next to them. The old man was nodding, and his voice was shaky and hard to understand. “They are waiting for you to make a break. When the officer left, six of his men remained to guard the road out of here.”

“Then you and your wife pack some clothes. You will leave for England with us,” said Karl.

Janette looked at him and smiled. At midnight, Karl slipped out and talked to the others. They would make a break for it at one o’clock. They rolled the car from the pigpen, cleaned their shoes and trousers with hay, and went into the garage.

“I think our best strategy is to start the car and run them over if we have to. They won’t expect that and will fire their weapons where they think we are. We’ll stay on the right of the road.”

They started the car with the garage doors closed. Claude took the wheel as Janette and Karl helped the old people into the vehicle. René raised the garage door as softly as possible and sat beside Claude, who

pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The car flew from the garage at the soldiers and through the small barricade.

They were on the road, waving back and forth to dodge their bullets. Five minutes later, the shelling stopped. “We need to get there in a real hurry, hide the car and walk the rest of the way,” said Karl.

Claude and René took one of his arms as they headed for the open field. They walked along the road without a word. The old couple slowed them down, and Renzetti showed signs of weakening.

In the distance, they could hear the approach of several vehicles and pressed forward with as much speed as possible. Karl looked at his watch. It was 1.45 a.m., and they ran down onto the centre of the field. Their plane suddenly appeared from the clouds and circled the area to land. The noise of the cars was getting louder as their plane landed.

A flare went up, and they were suddenly silhouetted in the light.

Bullets barely reached them. The plane door opened, and Renzetti had to be helped aboard along with the old man and woman. Claude and René pushed them aboard and rushed into the forest. Their plane sped down the field and lifted off. Bullets ripped through the side of their aircraft. Renzetti fell. One had hit his spine, and he was writhing in pain.

A few minutes later, they were in the air. The pilot headed for the clouds. Karl went to the front of the Lancaster to talk to the pilot. “They’ll be sending up fighters to knock us out of the sky. Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m going at full speed. Hopefully, we’ll have cloud cover most of the way. Once we reach the channel, we can count on support from Spits.”

A few minutes later. A ME109F fighter slid by them, setting one of their engines on fire. The pilot was busy trying to put it out without success. He suddenly sent the plane into a deep dive before levelling out and climbing again. “Sometimes, that helps.”

The smoke streamed behind them as he climbed towards the nearest clouds. Thankfully, there was no moon, and they went along without incident for at least 30 minutes when they came out of the cloud cover.

Janette tried to comfort Renzetti as best she could and fed him some Whiskey.

“We should reach the channel in 15 minutes,” said the radio operator.

“I’m not sure we’ll make it across the channel. Radio for a Canso to head our way in case we have to ditch.”

Six ME109F fighters suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The top and front gunners blasted away at them, downing one in their first pass. They were in sight of the channel now where a squadron of Spitfires met them.

They pushed on ahead. The starboard engine fire flared again, but the pilot focused on getting across the channel. Their plane was losing altitude, and he levelled it out as he spotted six more Spits heading their way. The German fighters suddenly broke and headed home.

The cliffs of England weren’t far away. There was one on each side of them. If he could only keep it flying for another 15 minutes. An airport just outside London was in sight now and started their descent for a landing,

The pilot tried to lower the wheels, but the hydraulic system had been riddled with bullets and failed to respond. He told the navigator to tell their passengers they were in for a rough landing and to buckle up.

The front of the plane buckled and blocked the engines as the plane skidded almost out of the runway. A fire truck and ambulance met them as they stepped down the ladder. Two attendants had to carry Renzetti down and into the ambulance, which sped away to the nearest hospital.

Col. Stone was there to welcome them and whisk them to one of Lonon’s posh hotels. “Now, with Renzetti, we can get a handle on all the German spies in England. You must be tired, so we’ll chat tomorrow at breakfast.”

Karl suddenly felt very tired and excused himself as he was escorted to his room. He undressed and fell into bed. He woke with sweat and used his sleeve to wipe off his forehead and face moisture.

In the morning, he had to call Janette to help him get up and ready for the day. She felt his forehead. “You’re burning up.” She called downstairs and had a doctor visit them.

The doctor was young, handsome, and had a thin black mustache and an actor’s voice. He stood and packed his stethoscope in his bag and went to the phone for an ambulance to take Karl to the hospital.

They wheeled Karl to a room next door to the room occupied by Renzetti. Two MPs guarded Renzeti’s room entrance with orders not to let anyone inside other than his doctor.

Janette visited him along with Col. Stone shortly after his nurse and doctor left. “They think you picked up a bug in the barn and hid among the cows.”

“We need you in good shape for another assignment.” He wore a mask just in case to cover his face to avoid catching the bug from Karl. His doctor returned and rolled up his sleeve and gave him a shot. “It’s penicillin. They use it to heal wounds on the battlefield. It won’t hurt you and may even help you get a speedy recovery.”

“Are you also Mr. Renetti’s doctor?” said Stone.

The doctor nodded. “I’m the only one allowed to see him. I operated

on him this morning, removed the bullet from his spinal area, and will be the only doctor to treat him until he is discharged.”

“We need to talk to him as soon as possible. We need his list of German spies badly.” He looked at Karl. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I think they’ll try to kill him, either here or when he’s discharged. What about having a soldier in another bed beside him, armed and ready to stop anyone who might try to silence him?”

“Get him also to write down the names of the German spies,” added Karl.

“You catch on quite fast, Aberbach,” said Stone. He looked up to see someone else standing at his door. It was Irene, the young woman who took their signals from their transmitter.

“I heard you had come down with a bad bug and came to see if you needed anything.”

“She’ll be at your disposal while you’re in the hospital. Just call her on your phone.

Irene passed him a small bag.“I was saving these up for Christmas.” Janette smiled at him.”I think you’ve made a conquest.”

“Because she came to see me?”

“A woman can always sense these things.”

Karl opened the bag and saw a handful of chocolates. Janette reached down and picked up one. “They’re worth their weight in gold over here.”

He felt tired and closed his eyes to sleep again when he heard voices outside his room. He opened them in time to see them push in another bed for another patient in Renzetti’s room and closed his eyes again.

He could see they were talking through the glass partition wall between them. A few minutes later, his doctor returned to check his temperature and give him another shot of penicillin. He then took his heart. “You’re improving. The penicillin is working. If you continue to improve the way you have, you’ll be out of here in a couple of days.”

The next morning, Janette, Col. Stone and Irene entered with news from the front. “The invasion has begun. Canadian troops are right there along with them and making better gains than most of the others.”

Janette kissed him on the forehead. “Get well soon, Karl. We need you at Intelligence.”

Irene came with a small paper bag of scones. “My mother made them for you.”

“She did not need to do that. I know everything is rationed.”

“She needed to. We received word that my brother was killed during the landing in Normandy. She needed to do something to keep her mind

off of it. Making them for you was her way for my brother.”

He thanked her and held up her bag of chocolates. “You and I will have them on Christmas day.”

“We will need you with us when we enter Germany. We’ll all likely be here to celebrate Christmas and for you to keep your word.”

When they left, he went to sleep again. He was still tired and feared it would prevent him from being discharged. He looked at Renzetti’s room to see two figures enter. He shouted at the top of his voice, hoping someone would hear him. They placed a pillow over Renzetti’s face.

A passing nurse opened his door. “Sound the alarm,” he shouted “someone is trying to kill the patient in the next room. She left, running down to the nurses’ station to sound the alarm, and returned with two orderlies, who rushed at the two figures. Renzetti pulled the pillow from his face and was gasping for air.

Karl struggled to his feet and made it to the door, tripping over the bodies of two soldiers who lay at his feet in the darkness. He picked up one of their guns and opened the door. Two other men, also dressed in uniforms, reached for their revolvers. Both had knives sticking from their chests.

“Stop whatever you’re doing, or I’ll send you to hell in a hurry.”

One of the orderlies walked past Renzetti’s attackers. “The two soldiers who were guarding Renzetti are now dead. There’s an extra gun in there. Pick it up while your friend runs to the nurses’ desk and gets the army in here in a real hurry.”

One of the attackers lunged toward him, and Karl pulled the trigger. His attacker bent over and fell writhing on the floor.

Col. Stone suddenly appeared with a squad at his back a few minutes later. The orderlies carried out the dead soldier who shared his Renzetti’s room. “I want these two handcuffed and taken to our prison for German spies, including the one who was shot.”

He turned to Karl. “Good work, Aberbach.”

The next morning, Karl was released from the hospital, and Renzetti was now well enough to be taken to a military hospital to recuperate.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The train to Cologne carried most of Rhinehart’s new command. Cognac ran freely as one bottle passed from one soldier to another. Rhinehart had a car to himself, and Jorg and Franke occupied the car next to him. The steady sound of wheels running on tracks was comforting, and Rhinehart checked over his orders for the eighth time.

He was to assemble all his men and board a special train that would take them through Belgium and into France near the English Channel and receive other orders there.

It was time to walk through all the cars and chat with the men. He paused to chat with Erwin Berger, who was sitting by himself. “After Russia, I hope you’ve mastered using your gun.”

Berger just smiled and looked out the window. Rhinehart pulled out a bottle of Cognac and passed it to him. “Have a shot of mine. I understand there are a lot of very pretty French ladies just waiting for a guy like you. Take another shot,” he said, moving down the aisle.

He stopped to chat with the Sergeants and offered them a shot of his Cognac, especially the new Sergeants and men he inherited. “Do you know where we’re headed, Major?” said a young recruit.

“To France where we can toast each other with Champagne.”

Rhinehart made a point of talking to the new soldiers and officers he inherited. And had Jorg and Franke spend as much time as possible with the new officers.

They whizzed through Belgium before they knew it and went to sleep where they were sitting, waking when kitchen helpers passed through with breakfast.

Jorg and Franke walked down the aisles and told them to eat and get their things together. “We’ll be disembarking in 20 minutes. When you de-

part, assemble into groups for inspection by the Major.”

When the train puffed its way into Cologne, they had lined up and were ready to step down into the train station. Rhinehart, Jorg and Franke were waiting for them as they reached the platform. They and the other new officers had them in marching order in minutes.

They marched out of the station, singing marching songs to a large garage, where they boarded trucks that would take them to their barracks, about an hour away. Rhinehart went to see headquarters, located nearby.

Col. Richard Zimmerman had a black patch over his left eye and wore a chest full of medals. He was tall, had a deep, authoritative voice and walked with a swagger. He motioned for Rhinehart to take a seat. “I hear great things about you.”

“And even greater things about you, colonel.”

“We both think the same way, from what I understand. I asked Himmler to place you under my command. I need commanders who can think independently and are not afraid to take chances. We are in this war to win it, and win it, we shall. So let us get down to brass tacks. The high command is having fits about an impending invasion of France and ultimately, Germany.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I do not want your troops at the front, but as the backup, should things turn against us, to halt any advances the Brits and their allies might make in their landing. You and your men will be posted closer to the front and carry out defensive tactics and strategies. With Russia, we bit off a bit more than we could handle. But here, we can hold our own and drive them back into the sea. We can still win this war. I know you feel the same way. Whatever you need, tell me, and it will be given to you. Any questions?”

Rhinehart was pleased when he left and returned to their camp. He met with Jorg and Franke and three other officers from the new group and told them they would be getting their men focused on defensive strategies

“In the next few days, we will be moved again, this time a bit nearer the front. The new barracks will be our homeland. Let the men know about the move. Just make sure the men get good food and plenty of rest because we’ll be running them ragged a few days from now.”

A week later, Col. Zimmerman sent an officer to tell him that they would be moving to a new camp the following morning. “Col. Zimmerman sends his compliments and wishes you good luck.”

Everyone was ready to board the trucks that came to pick them up at eight o’clock the next morning. The men climbed with trucks without comment. The new barracks had been built for them, and they all rushed inside

to get the best bunks. There was singing inside as they waited for supper and breathed in the wonderful smell of new lumber.

The next morning, they assembled outside for exercises before being taken to a rifle range to sharpen their shooting skills and the best way to bayonet an enemy soldier.

They went for long marches through a fire that had been set in the forest for them. And to wade through chest-level water while keeping their rifles dry.

The following week, Rhinehart received eight new 88s and ammunition and a surprise visit from Col. Zimmerman, who came to see the men in action.

The rains suddenly came from nowhere, but they were forced to walk through them all day. The next day, they woke to the sound of heavy artillery fire. The word came quickly. The Invasion had started, and they would soon be tested.

They prepared for what they knew would be worse than the Russian campaign. Enemy planes suddenly appeared overhead and dove down, shooting at many of them, before they sought refuge amid the trees of the forest. The aircraft fired rockets at their 88s, destroying three before leaving.

“Colonel Zimmerman, Major. A runner found him. He says it’s urgent.”

Rhinehart found a phone a few minutes later. He was breathing hard when he heard Zimmerman’s voice. “The enemy has made bigger inroads than we imagined. I need you and your men to fall back and create a defensive position that will be difficult for them to overrun your men. I have ordered my men to do the same. Hilter has refused to release any tanks to help us to make matters worse. We’re on our own. Good luck.”

Rhinehart met with his officers once the shelling stopped. “I’ve received orders to fall back into a better defensive position. Evidently, the enemy has made greater inroads than they expected. So get the men to get ready for another move.”

He nodded to Jorg and a new captain to remain. “Find a good defensive position to halt their advance and protect us from enemy fighters. Take whatever time you need and let me know.”

Darkness had fallen when they approached him with a map and their suggestions. “The Ardennes. It’s full of trees and has several places where we can dig in and halt them in their tracks.”

“What if we need to leave there in a hurry? The place we have in mind will allow us to fall back slowly undercover if need be.,” said Jorg.

“There is a long open field and several houses at the edge of the forest. We would be able to kill hundreds should they try to reach us.”

“I’ll need permission from Zimmerman. Stay with me when I call him.” Zimmerman answered the phone himself. “My men have found a place to stop their advance. They suggest hiding among the trees in the Ardennes., where we would be able to kill a large who might attack us and no longer be targets for their aircraft.”

“Go with it and report to me when you’re dug in.”

***

They reached the Ardennes four days after delaying repeated attacks on their position. The next day, Rhinehart knew they had to leave before they were surrounded and left in the middle of the night.

They were followed by allied troops and were bombarded night and day by enemy artillery. During the quiet periods, they had to fight off daily attempts to lodge them from their position.

Rhinehart hadn’t slept in days, and to make matters worse, he received a message that Col. Zimmerman had been killed and that Col. Sandweiss had now assumed his command.

“You haven’t slept in days,” Jorg told him when he read the message about Col. Zimmerman. He tried to sleep but kept waking up when artillery shells exploded close to his tent.

The next morning, he received a message from Col. Sandweiss to present himself at his headquarters that afternoon. Franke and his squad guarded him as they made their way to the clearing and the field beyond. They returned to the forest after seeing Rhinehart board a car and disappear down the road.

The anger had not left Col. Sandweiss’s face. “You are under my command now, and I want you and your men to abandon the forest. You’re losing men by the dozens, I hear. They’re sitting ducks where you are now. Do that tonight and take up positions in farmhouses behind the clearing. From there, you can kill our enemy by the hundreds should they attempt to rush you. I’ll have a dozen 88s sent to you.”He paused to study. Rhinehart’s face. “Any questions?”

Rhinehart shook his head. “We’ll start as soon as it gets dark.” He was going to ask Sandweiss about the enemy’s aircraft, which could change the odds but decided not to.

Sandweiss smiled and nodded to end their discussion.

When Rhinehart returned to the forest, he gathered all his officers in his tent. “Col. Sandweiss has ordered us to leave the forest and take a stand at some farmhouses across the open field. He believes we will be able to

kill hundreds of enemy soldiers if they try to rush us from a protected position.”

“What about enemy aircraft?” said Jorg.

“I was tempted to ask him that, but I could see he was not interested in hearing anything I had to say. We leave as soon as it gets dark.”

“The enemy will have a field day once they see we’ve abandoned our position,” said Franke. “They’ll just bring up their artillery and shell the hell out of us.”

Franke and seven other officers led the men through the forest. They sent up a flare to see if the coast was clear before marching down the field and to the deserted farmhouses. Rhinehart set up his office in a shed behind the farmhouse and billeted almost 300 men in the farmhouse while the others set up tents behind the farmhouse.

The first enemy soldiers appeared at the edge of the forest two days later when the sky cleared, and their aircraft reported that they had deserted the woods and had set up in a farmhouse nearby. The aircraft had sent rockets into two farmhouses, setting them on fire.

A large mass of enemy soldiers had gathered at the edge of the forest and were setting up mortars to shell them once they launched an attack. Rhinehart lowered his binoculars, shook his head, and had Jorg, Franke, and other officers ready for a mortar attack when the enemy sent their soldiers into battle.

“Get the 88s into action and set up your machine guns where they will do the most damage. Start firing the 88s and knock out their mortars and into the soldiers massed there. That will force them to attack, and that’s when the machine guns should go into action. “You are the best of the best gentlemen. Good luck,” he said, standing and saluting them.

The enemy commanders launched their attack, sending 400 soldiers running across the field. Most of them lay on the battlefield, either wounded or killed, before being called back.

Two more attacks were launched with the same result before darkness set in. The enemy officers discussed a night attack but were vetoed down. “They will hear us coming and send up flares and begin another slaughter,” said their commanding officer. “Radio for a couple of squadrons of Typhons to bomb them instead.”

Rhinehart had a different idea. He could see that they were outnumbered, and when the aircraft bombed them, he decided their best approach would be to lead his men out of there and find a better-fortified position.

He sent Jorg ahead to check out the better location. He spotted a steep hill and drove back to the farmhouse on his motorcycle. He described it to

Rhinehart, who called together all officers and told them they would move out to a new, more defensive position and have their men leave without a sound. “As long as the enemy thinks we’re still here and ready, they will hold off.”

Rhinehart and Jorg led them as they walked to their new position. Their soldiers followed them up a trail to the top, where they set up tents and dug themselves in for a siege. “Send a message to Col. Sandweiss and let him know we had changed our position before we were overrun by enemy soldiers. Tell him we need air support in the worst way.”

The wireless rattled as it received a return message. “Unable to provide aircraft support. You will have to do the best you can.”

Rhinehart had machine nests placed along the trail up to the top and waited for the first signs of the enemy. He went to a camouflaged area to survey the spot where he knew the enemy would come.

In the distance, he could see dust rising like a cloud and knew it was only a matter of minutes now.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Col. Stone waved Karl inside his office. It had a wide window framed with delicate white curtains that looked out on the parade ground. A Large portrait of Churchill and the King hung on the wall to his right. The battleship linoleum gleamed beneath his feet, and there was a faint rustle from the curtains when he took his seat.

“We’ve got good news for you. When our commanding officer heard of your exploit and saving the life of one of our most important operatives while still in hospital, he promoted you to the rank of Lieutenant.”

“You’ll be taking a bigger role in our operations,” added Stone, “and be asked to take on other hazardous missions. At the moment, you’ll be assigned to work with me here. Good luck and congratulations.”

When he left, he was shown to his own office. “This is where you’ll be hanging out,” said the CWAC, who escorted him. “Everyone is talking about how you rose from the sick bed and prevented someone from killing Renzetti.”

He sat down behind his desk and picked up the telephone. “Janette, you’ll never guess what just happened. I’ve just been promoted to Lieutenant.”

Janette laughed. “So now I’ll have to salute you. I was just getting ready to bring an old friend to see you. If you’re still there, I’ll leave now.”

About 20 minutes later, Janette arrived with a man. “You remember Claude.”

“I should,” said Karl. “He saved our bacon more than once.”

“Claude made it through enemy lines to find me. He has asked me to marry him. I have accepted. We expect to be married at the end of the month when I get a week’s leave. He would like you to be his best man.”

It was like a ton of coal dumped over him. He caught his breath and

extended his hand to Claude. “Congratulations, she’s a great gal. Just tell me where and when, and I’ll be there.”

Janette studied his face and knew he was putting on a show for them. “I ran into Irene, the transmitter lady, the other day, and she asked me to say hello to you.”

She had no sooner left when Stone appeared at his door. “We need you to talk to one of their colonels we captured recently.

Col. Sandweiss clicked his heels and bowed slightly. His face froze as soon as he saw Karl and began to shake. “You remind me of someone,” he managed to say.

“Probably my brother, Rhinehart. He’s my twin.”

“Major Aberbach was under my command before I was captured. He has a great reputation and is currently fighting a rearguard action.”

Karl related what Sandweiss had told him, mentioning that he commanded his brother, Rhinehart, who was fighting a rearguard action.

“I didn’t know you had a brother who was an officer in the German army.”

“His name is Rhinehart, and we are identical twins. When he was 16, he left home to find his way and join the German army. He is now a Major.”

“Is there any way we can get him to surrender with his men?”

“Not likely. Rhinehart does not change his views very often. The last time I talked to him, he only wanted to talk about Hitler and how much he doted on him. My father and mother tried to talk him out of it, but Rhinehart wasn’t listening. It’s turning out exactly what my father told him it would.”

“Maybe he might change his tune now?”

“Then we’ll save it for another time. In the meantime, see what you can get from this old guy. Sandweiss was captured by a squad of British soldiers walking along the road. Sandweiss had taken a wrong turn and was stopped by the soldiers. He was interrogated in France, but that got nowhere because no one could understand German, so they sent him sent to us.”

It took only five minutes to learn that the Germans were getting ready to retreat behind the Rhine and fortify the entire length, that they were prepared to do whatever it took to prevent any of the allied armies from crossing into Germany. “We are prepared to defend our country to the last man.”

Col. Stone listened carefully and did not comment until the interview was done. “Sounds like we need a group to disable their communications and train a group of volunteers to parachute in and attack them from the

rear.”

“Is this something you would like me to undertake?”

Col. Stone shook his head. “We need you here to guide us in the decisions we need to take when that day comes.”

He left, feeling a bit down when someone grabbed his arm.

It was Irene. “You seem down.”

“It’s been a crazy day. First, I learn that I’ve been promoted to Lieutenant, then Janette tells me she is marrying someone else who wants me to be their best man, and I learn that my brother is a Major in the German SS.”

“My mum has been asking about you. Ever since my brother died, she’s been in the dumps and cries a lot at night. Why not come home with me and talk to her? It would do her a world of good to see you.”

They took the tube and got off at her stop. Her home was a 15-minute walk from there. She took out her key and poked her head inside. “I’ve got company. Are you decent?”

Irene led him inside and sat him down next to her mother. “You remember Karl, mum. He visited us once before, and you made scones for him.”

She reached out her hand. “I hope you’ll forgive me. I wasn’t expecting company. It is good to see you again.”

“He’s got marvellous news. He’s just been promoted to Lieutenant.”

“Congratulations, young man. I’m afraid we cannot offer you a fancy meal. I have a chicken stew on the stove. “

“My mother used to make stews for us, and I love them,” said Karl. When supper was over, they listened to the BBC. It was all about the V2 bombs. There was also news from the front – that the allies were at the borders of Germany.

When it came time to leave, Irene walked him to the tube. She was about to leave when he grabbed her and kissed her. She looked up at him and kissed him back. ***

The next day he was on a plane crossing the Channel and into France, refuelled and headed for Germany, where he parachuted and made his way into a small town. He found the street and the number of the house he was to stay in and was about to knock when he spotted a German soldier walk by and stand in front of the driveway. He spotted one of the Gestapo’s cars in the shadows.

He walked on the grass so that he would not be heard. He needed to think and find a place where he could transmit his signals to London. He spotted a small shack standing behind a two-storey house. The shed had

been an old outhouse at one time and housed at least 100 flies that flew out when he opened the door. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Air blew in from spaces between boards, and the smell had long gone.

He took a small flashlight out of his pack and shone it around. It would do. There were also covers for the holes in the seat. He placed his transmitter behind one of the seats and sent a signal to London that he had landed and that the safe house was no longer safe.

The transmitter rattled. “Where are you exactly?”

It was Irene. He knew her hand and her distinctive way of sending messages.

“In an old outhouse.”

“You’re joking,” came the message back.

“I’m not. Will message tomorrow.”

He sat back and smiled when he thought of her. He opened the door and walked around the property. There was a small garden behind the outhouse filled with lettuce, cucumber and turnip plants.

He changed his clothes into his German soldier’s uniform and tried to sleep. He woke at dawn and headed out onto the street. There was a cool breeze, and he turned up the collar of his jacket. Fires began to appear from the chimneys in the area. He spotted a small café down the street and walked there slowly. He felt for his papers to make sure he had them if he were stopped.

He sat at one of the tables near the café’s windows to see who was entering. He was the only person when he entered. He walked with a limp and recovering from a bad wound in case someone asked why he wasn’t at the front. He ate the bun and sipped the hot tea slowly.

He paid in Reichmarks and left, tipping his cap to the young woman at the cashier. He almost bumped into a Gestapo officer as he opened the door. The officer glared at him. “Why aren’t you at the front?”

Karl limped. “Recovering from a bad wound.”

The Gestapo officer made a face and walked by him. Karl smiled. It had been a good test, and he had passed it. He felt lighter almost immediately and reminded himself to walk with a limp.

He spotted the bridge from France to Germany and saw several young soldiers, no more than teens, setting charges to blow up the bridge if necessary. Several Tiger tanks rolled down the street near the bridge, and fifteen 88s had been set up and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Four machine gun nests had already been set up with two-men crews and stacks of bullets in wood cases behind them.

Karl looked around to see if one of the soldiers might be Rhinehart.

There was tension in the air, ready to explode at any time.

He ate a quick supper and waited until nightfall to walk to the hideout. He opened the door. Nothing had been disturbed. He had saved two buns for his breakfast, sat on the seats against the wall, and slept away the night. He woke while it was still early and sent a transmission to London with details of what he had seen and any weak spots they might focus on.

He left the outhouse while it was still dark and headed for a restaurant, where he entered their washroom. He found his razor and some soap and began shaving. When he finished, he combed his hair and ordered breakfast.

He spent the day looking for an alternative site where he could sleep and send messages to London. He found it in an old church on the outskirts of the town. The church was no longer used, and its doors were locked. He walked around it and found a small door at the back. It, too, was locked. He reached into his pocket for the small knife he carried and used that to play with the lock. He was about to give up when the lock suddenly opened. It led to the basement. He could hear movement above and climbed the stairs to see several injured German soldiers like himself who were cared for by nuns.

He hobbled his way to the front. “I’ve been wounded, sister, and need someplace to rest before I try to make my way home. She led him to an empty cot and fed him a thin broth with bread. He ate it slowly and thanked her.

It wasn’t quite the answer he was looking for, but it would do for the night. When he woke, he saw a Gestapo officer standing over him. “Your papers, private.”

Karl presented him with the papers and saw him check his face and his picture a few times before giving him back his papers. “Where are you headed?”

Karl was prepared for that. “I am making my way to my home in the Ruhr.”

“That’s in enemy hands now.”

He walked away and then stopped. “Your father’s name?”

“Konrad Aberbach. He was a soldier in the previous war.”

The Gestapo officer left the church a short time later. The nun who had been listening smiled at him and turned her attention to someone else. He left in the morning to see someone following him as he made his way to the outhouse. He stopped at noon at a restaurant nearby to see his follower enter and sit at a table next to him. Karl took a quick look and saw him issue a V for Victory sign with his two fingers. He nodded and looked

away. The stranger was the first to leave, and Karl left shortly after.

The man was waiting for him in the shadows. “I am to relay all your messages here on in.”

Tell them the Gestapo is following me, that I need to leave here as soon as possible and that the Gestapo are closing in on me.”

The stranger, who had a grey beard and heavy white eyebrows, flashed him a smile and left. Four Gestapo officers replaced him and sat at his table. “We’ve had our eye on you for some time. Back at headquarters, we will soon know why you came here and why you’re visiting us. So drink up. It may be the last tea you’ll ever have.”

He looked out the window to see his friend with the beard smile at him.

Karl looked away. The agent sitting next to him grabbed his collar and pulled him up. His associate grabbed his left arm and marched him to the car outside. Other patrons looked down and shook their heads.

Two agents sat in the front seat, and the other sat between them in the back seat. The inside smelled of stale cigarettes. They moved into the traffic and picked up speed when they came to an intersection. The driver ignored the stop sign and was halfway through when the right side of their car was suddenly rammed by a large truck carrying soldiers to the front.

For a few seconds, everything stopped. The front of the truck had punched a large hole in the right side of the car. The driver was slumped over the wheel, the horn was honking under his face, the agent next to him lay back against the seat unconscious, the driver beside Karl was bleeding from a gash in his head, and the agent next to him lay unconscious on the floor.

He felt his arms and head quickly for any signs of blood. There was none. He opened the door next to him and emerged from the wreckage. A crowd, including two police officers, had gathered as they waited for the ambulance.

Karl backed slowly away and headed for the first side street nearest him. It was deserted, and he ran down it, stopping when he became winded and slowed down to a slow walk, breathing heavily. He stopped a few streets from the house with the outhouse and entered the restaurant on the corner. He ordered a cheese sandwich and tea and ate slowly.

An hour later, he was the only person in the restaurant. He paid for his meal before heading out and walked past the house with the outhouse. There were other houses behind the outhouse, with backyards and outhouses of their own. Karl turned the corner and walked to the street behind them. He walked slowly by and spotted his outhouse.

He decided to wait until dark before going down the small laneway to the outhouse. In the meantime, he walked around the neighbouring streets looking for other opportunities. A few people said “good night” as he passed them and smiled at him.

An hour later, he could see families eating their evening meal. It was getting dark, and he took a chance that he wouldn’t be noticed walked down the lane to the outhouse. As he neared, he saw a woman emerge from the back door and go to the chicken coop carrying a basin, which she emptied onto the yard. Karl waited a few minutes until the back porch light was turned off before entering the outhouse.

His transmitter was exactly where he had left it, leaning against the left wall.

He turned it on and waited before sending his message:

Just escaped from the Gestapo. I’ve been compromised and need to leave here as soon as possible. Need answer and instructions immediately.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Karl walked the five kilometres to the edge of the forest as soon as he received instructions to be at a small clearing in the forest five kilometres outside the town just after midnight. He checked his wristwatch. It was 11 o’clock, and there was no moon to guide him through the forest. Unseen branches brushed his face as he felt his way through the thick underbrush and large tree trunks. It seemed to take forever as he tripped and fell, injuring his ankle. The pain was horrific, but he knew they would leave without him if he didn’t make it to the clearing. He broke off one of the branches of a nearby tree and used it to lean on as he made his way out of the forest. It broke in two just as he neared the centre of the field. He crawled the rest of the way. He had to make sure the pilot would see him, and he began to feel faint.

He sat in the middle of the clearing where he had to be noticed by the pilot. He used his penlight to check the time. It was almost midnight, and he was beginning to get nervous. After a few minutes, he heard the whomping sounds of a Sikorsky R$ helicopter headed in his direction. He also heard shots fired at it as German soldiers sent up a flare to see where the helicopter was going.

Karl turned on his penlight to guide the pilot to where he was sitting. The helicopter landed only a few feet from him, and he tried to stand but fell back. A crew member saw what was happening, jumped down, and came to him. He helped him walk to the open door and crawl aboard. A few German soldiers emerged in the clearing and began shooting at them. The pilot began to take them skyward as a hail of bullets riveted the helicopter’s body.

“There’s a machine gun next to the wall in front of you.” The pilot yelled back to them. “Use it to shoot at the soldiers guarding the forest’s edge. Just be careful you don’t expose yourself and get a bullet in your

body from return fire.”

Karl picked up the machine gun as the crew member who helped him get aboard opened the door. Karl sprayed the edge of the forest from where they saw the tracer bullets. Seconds later, they approached the bridge, where he could see tracer bullets headed their way. He pointed his gun in their direction and pulled the trigger.

Ten minutes later, they descended, and Karl could see Stone’s face in the light from the helicopter as they landed.

The hill was more than Rhinehart had hoped for. There was a large cavern where they could eat, sleep and tend to the wounded. All attempts to use the trail had failed. The Machine guns and flame throwers made the enemy’s appetite for an assault up the trail die quickly enough.

An attempt to send fighters by parachute also failed. Most enemy fighters were either killed or wounded badly, and using aircraft to blast away at them only ended in having their aircraft downed by his Flack 88s, fired from behind large boulders.

And on the few bombing runs, they had a large cavern to wait it out.

Rhinehart knew that he and his men would need to leave at some point and started making plans. He knew instinctively the best way to do it when he had a cool head. They would run out of food in the next week or two. The small amounts they did get by parachute were getting fewer and fewer.

He called all the officers to his tent to discuss the situation. “What we’re looking for, gentlemen is a secret way we can descend and move to another fortified position.”

“I’ll send out a few men down different paths in the morning to find one where we can leave,” said Jorg. “There has to be another way made by different people in the past.

They found it three days later. Jorg and Franke went down it and came back elated. “It’s a wonder the enemy didn’t find it before we did.”

Rhinehart ordered a full meal for supper. He sat at a table near the front with Jorg and other officers. He stood and waited for the chatter to die. “We’re pulling up stakes again, my friends. We’ve found a place where we can escape unhindered and will leave as soon as you pack your bags and assemble on the square.”

It was dark by the time they were ready to leave. Jorg and the soldier who discovered the path led them down the hill. “If the enemy gets any wind of what we’re doing, they’ll be at the foot with guns pointed at our

chests. So no noise. Not even whispering to the man next to you. You can talk to your heart’s content once we’re down and climbing aboard trucks to take us to our new home.”

The pathway was rough. Jagged boulders were sticking out at every turn, but no one said a word, not even when they skinned their knees.

They paused halfway down when Rhinehart looked at his watch. It was two o’clock. Further down, they hit patches where the dirt had turned to watery mud. Several soldiers fell into the mud, spitting out mouthfuls.

They could see the ground in spots with no trees and smiled at each other. In another hour or two, they would be on level ground and marching to meet the trucks that would be coming for them.

“We’d like to get our hands on a German officer who’s quite an escape artist. First, he held up our advance into Germany for almost a month, and now, he’s managed to escape with all his men to block us again. He should be on our side,” said Stone.

They now occupied an office close to the German border and the fighting nd could hear explosions in the distance.

“Sounds like my brother, Rhinehart.”

“I’m sure he must know now that he’s on the losing side.”

“Not necessarily, not if he believes Hitler’s propaganda. To Rhinehart, he’s the greatest man in the world and believes everything Hitler says, especially that Germany will soon have a weapon that could destroy the world.”

Stone glanced up at the picture of Churchill, which he had brought with him. “That man stayed the course at a time when everyone thought he would lead them into disaster. Before Hitler unleashes his horror on the world, we need you to chat with some German officers. We need to find out where their main divisions are and what plans they have to protect Berlin when we are at their gates.”

Karl wrote a letter to his mother to tell her that he had heard about Rhinehart, that he was not a senior officer in the German army, and was highly regarded even by his enemies.

“We are now preparing to move into Germany and hope to be at the gates of Berlin before autumn. I am not on the front lines as Rhinehart is. Don’t worry about him. He always manages to escape every trap our armies set for him. My work at present is interviewing German officers about their defences. It’s interesting work, and they are all amazed that I am Rhinehart’s brother.”

His first interview was with a junior officer like himself. He was young, with curly blond hair and light blue eyes and his hands shook when he talked. He was frightened, and his thick boyish face showed it.

“We do not torture our prisoners, Hans. If we ask questions, it is only because we are interested in ending the war as soon as possible.”

Hans bit his lip and nodded. “We are interested in where your main divisions are now located.”

Hans didn’t respond, and Karl smiled at him.

“We don’t bite. I am asking you this only because we wish to extend offers of surrender and shorten the war.”

Hans held his hands together to stop them from shaking.

“We hear that Berlin is being fortified with thousands of soldiers there to protect us from capturing Herr Hitler.”

Karl knew he had made a mistake by starting with Hans. Perhaps the next officer, a major who wore his uniform proudly. His name was Bruno, and he walked with a swagger into the room.

Bruno sat without being invited and crossed his arms. There was hatred in his eyes and the sound of his voice that was hard to miss.

“We are gathering information about Berlin. We will be there within a month. Shedding more bloodshed is useless. You would save lives if you would.”

“What do you need to know?”

“The defences around Berlin and where your remaining troops are stationed.”

“I can’t talk to what defences are being raised for Berlin, but I can tell you that we are planning a major offensive against your positions soon aimed at driving all your troops back on the other side of the Rhine on all fronts. We will be putting all our effort into this. The Fuhrer has assured us that he has a new weapon – a new kind of bomb – that will wipe out an entire army with just one bomb. It will be unleashed by this time next month.”

Karl talked to Col. Stone about it, who did not seem rattled by it. “We’ve heard rumours from other sources, but affirmation is good. For your ears only, we are planning an all-out bombing raid to destroy their tanks, artillery, and defences before they’re ready to fight back, starting in two days.”

Col. Stone smiled at Karl. “Have another chat with your major after the air raids and show him pictures of the attack. You might find him not so belligerent once he sees the pictures. You might also tell him that his comrades are in full retreat.”

Karl was about to rise, but Stone stopped him. “One thing more. We will be moving our quarters closer to the front.”

“There’s a German SS officer that has your name? Any relation?” said Col. Edward Stone, Karl’s commanding officer at Canadian Intelligence.

“Tht’s my brother, Rhinehart. My mother hasn’t heard from him since the outbreak of war. He’s part of the Waffen SS, and my mother and father are worried sick about him. He wanted to be part of Hitler’s Germany and left us in 1936 to join Hitler’s army.

“We understand he’s in command of an SS group not far from here,” said Col. Stone, who wore a sandy mustache and a twinkle in his light blue eyes. He liked to smile a lot and was smiling now.

“I have it on good authority that the Germans will surrender sometime tomorrow morning. “You might be interested in taking a jeep and take a ride into his camp and let him know that any further attacks would be pointless by him or us at this point.”

It was only a 30-minute drive to Rhinehart’s camp. The Sargeant suggested that he fly a white flag to avoid sniper fire from them or us. He pinned a large white flag to the aerial of his jeep, saluted him and wished him luck.

The trip was uneventful for the first 20 minutes, but a German soldier stopped him, pointing his gun at him. Karl stopped the jeep and held up his arms so he could see his hands. “I wish to see Herr Rhinehart Aberbach,” he said in German. “I have an important message for him. Hop on the back and guide me the rest of the way.”

They rode into the SS camp with the soldier behind him, still pointing a gun at his back. Some of the other soldiers followed them to Rhinehart’s tent. He was dressing down one of his soldiers who found it hard to shoot his rifle at the enemy. The soldier left with his head down, feeling sheepish, knowing his comrades had heard everything, as he melted into the crowd.

Rhinehart opened the flap of his tent to find out what the buzz was about and suddenly faced Karl. His men looked at him, then at Rhinehart as he hugged and held Karl back. “I can’t believe my eyes. And an officer to boot.”

They hugged again. “I’m in Canadian Intelligence, and I got promoted because I can speak German,” said Karl in English.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“My commanding officer asked me if we were related, and I told you were my brother and that our mother was worried sick about you. He suggested I take a jeep and visit your camp, about 30 minutes from us. He wanted you to know that your army will surrender to the allies sometime

tomorrow morning and that any further between us would be pointless.” Rhinehart ushered him inside his tent where they could talk. “We have received no word of this. How sure you are of his information?”

“Quite. My colonel mentioned this to me only because I told him our mother was worried sick about you and did not wish to see you killed pointlessly.”

“Until I hear otherwise, I will not tell this to my soldiers. Otherwise, it will spread through the German army in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. I will tell them that you are not to be touched, that you are my brother from Canada. I will appoint one of my men to escort you around the camp if you wish. I have to finish a report for my colonel, and then we can have a good chat, and you can tell me all about the grape farm and our dear mutter.

“Everyone worries about you, including Uncle Hugh, Auntie Kay, and even Peggy. They heard rumours that you had been moved to the Russian front. There was no word from you after your promotion in the SS.”

“Well, I’m alive and well, as you can see. I’m now also a Major and command a lot of troops. I’m glad you came with your message from your colonel.”

Erwin Berger, the soldier Rhinehart had lectured earlier, sat in his tent feeling bitter about everything. It was not his fault that he was a civilized man and felt the war was unjustified for killing someone he did not know and had not harmed him. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

He strapped his rifle over his shoulder, walked out of his tent, and dared anyone to look at him.

His friends had never seen him look like this before and found other things to do as he passed them by. As he approached Rhinehart’s tent, he saw Aberbach or his brother emerge from the tent and walk towards him with one of the other soldiers.

Vogel unslung his rifle and aimed it at Karl when they got close. There was an immediate buzz from the others, and Rhinehart emerged from his tent and saw what was happening.

“Disarm him,” Rhinehart shouted to the others. Two of Vogel’s friends tried to wrest his rifle from him, but he pushed them off.

“Leave me be.” He swung his rifle in their direction.

The others backed away.

He aimed his rifle again at Karl’s chest. He could hear Franke’s voice shouting at him in his ears. You’re a coward, Vogel. The Futhrer’s enemy is your enemy, over and over in his ears. All you need to do is pull the trigger. Pull the trigger, Pull the trigger. Pull the trigger. The words echoed and kept on

repeating until he pressed the trigger.

Rhinehart sensed what was happening and ran in front of Karl and took the bullet in his upper chest. He fell to the ground. Everyone seemed stunned until someone grabbed the rifle from Berger and threw him to the ground.

The camp doctor, who witnessed what had happened, ran to Rhinehart’s side and carried him to the hospital tent. He ordered Karl to follow. “If he needs blood, he will be able to get it from you.”

The doctor put him to sleep with a needle. He was a young man in his early 20s with a slim build, a thin face, and black hair, which he kept pushing back from his eyes. He then tried to stop the bleeding in his chest, taping it over finally after three thick blood-soaked bandages, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and sitting down suddenly, feeling exhausted.

“Well, doctor, will he make it?”

“The next hour or two will tell the tale. Your brother has lost a lot of blood. Lie down on the other cot while I get ready to take some blood from you.” Karl, who hated needles, closed his eye while the doctor stuck the needle into his arm to extract the blood. It was over about 20 minutes later when the doctor took some gauze and white tape to close up the wound and stop him from bleeding.

The cook came into the tent and offered Karl some tea. “So you’re the major’s twin. If you were in his clothes and ordering me around, I would never know you.” Then, after a pause, “he’ll pull through. The Major’s a tough young bird.”

Karl fell asleep and dreamed of his mother. She was crying and blaming it on him. He woke a couple of hours later, and the doctor was standing over him. “Your brother has lapsed into a bad fever, and we have no drugs left to deal with it. I’m sorry. I’ve done all I can. He’s calling for you.”

He helped Karl off the cot and guided him to Rhinehart’s stretcher. He stood over him, not sure what he should do next. Rhinehart opened his eyes and closed them again. He opened them again and opened his mouth.

“Mutter,” he managed to say.

Karl could barely hear him, but he knew he was calling out for their mother.

Rhinehart opened his eyes again a minute later. “Mutter.”

“The bullet is lodged close to his heart. I’m just a field doctor for me to operate on him. If you have a surgeon at your camp, it might be wise to risk putting him on your jeep and have one of my soldiers keep the stretcher steady over any rough patches until you reach your camp.”

He helped Karl up. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“If not, I’ll just stop and trade places with your soldier.”

A few minutes later, Karl headed out of the came with Rhinehart and one of his soldiers holding down the stretcher where Rhinehart was strapped. As they neared the Canadian camp, one of the guards raised his rifle on seeing the German soldier but lowered it as soon as he saw Karl, who waved to him.

They drove directly to the hospital tent, where Karl went inside to talk to one of the doctors. The inside smelled heavily of anesthesia. Dr. Eric Campbell, dressed in whites, lowered his mask when he saw Karl enter with a stretcher.

“It’s my brother. He took a bullet that was aimed at me. He is a Major of the Waffen SS and head of the SS group not far from here. I went to give him a message from my colonel. One of his soldiers aimed his rifle at me, and my brother took the bullet. The German doctor said that the bullet was too near his heart for him to operate on and that a surgeon should remove it. Can you or one of your other surgeons save his life? So that you know, he was born in Cape Breton, the same as me. Our mother writes me all the time to find out what had happened to him.”

Dr, Campbell made a face. “I’m not entirely happy about saving the life of a Waffen SS Major, but I will refer you to one of my colleagues who knows about hearts.” He turned and went down a long row of beds, chatted to another doctor, and returned. “Dr. Bernstein has one ahead of your brother. But in the meantime, we can prep him for the operation. Understand, we will have to open up his chest and that you agree to this.”

“I agree, and thank you, Dr. Bernstein.”

Col. Stone was waiting for him when he emerged from the hospital tent. “I heard you brought back your brother to the hospital tent.”

“He took a bullet meant for me. It’s near his heart, and they’ll be operating on him shortly.”

“I hope you understand that he may face criminal charges when the war ends. Waffen SS was notorious for the way they treated and tortured our men and the peoples they conquered.”

“Rhinehart was not the type. He liked things simple and direct. And as a boy, he was more inclined to help someone who was being bullied than doing any bullying himself.”

“On the other hand, he may have witnessed some terrible things and might be a key witness in the trials that will follow the war. In any event, he will be a person of interest to us.”

Two days later, Dr. Campbell approached him in the officers’ mess.

“Dr. Bernstein has operated on your brother and wants to talk to you.”

Karl went directly to the hospital tent and sought out Dr. Bernstein, a middle-aged man with a goatee and a strange accent. He wore thick glasses, and his face looked tired and worn.

“You look exactly like your brother, only in better shape. “We were able to remove the bullet without any problem but not without weakening his heart. He will need a lot of rest, and I’ve recommended that he be flown to the coast and put aboard a hospital ship headed for Montreal. You can see him but understand he tires easily, so don’t spend too long talking to him.”

He led Karl to another row of beds, where several nurses, also dressed in white, were moving up and down the aisle. Rhinehart was sleeping when they arrived. Wait until he wakes up. He’ll be glad to see you. He’s been asking for you.”

One of the nurses stopped to look at him. “You must be twins. And German.”

“Both Rhinehart and I were born in Cape Breton to German parents. We grew up in Niagara, where we have a grape farm.” He smiled and looked to see Rhinehart open his eyes. He could see her talking about him to the other nurses and looking at him.

“I would like to hug you, but I’m too weak. Thank you for bringing me here. You saved my life, I understand.”

“Don’t tire yourself. I have good news for you. You’re going to be flown to the coast and put aboard a hospital ship going to Montreal. But only when they feel you’re able to travel. So sleep and focus on getting well. And thank you for taking the bullet meant for me.”

Rhinehart closed his eyes and was asleep by the time Karl stood. Karl had to find a way to call his parents and give them the news. He went to see what Col. Stone could suggest.

“Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can arrange. Some of the war correspondents might have a way if all else fails.”He paused, “I’ve been very impressed with your work, and so have some of the higher-ups. There will be criminal trials of high-ranking Nazis a few months from now, and they would like you seconded to participate in them. You’ll be part of history.”

Karl nodded. “Thank you for recommending me. Of course, I’d like to go home, but this would be an experience I’ll tell my grandchildren.”

Rhinehart improved slowly over the next week, and by the second week, he was strong enough to be shipped to the coast and sent to Canada. On the day of his departure, Karl accompanied him to the aircraft to take him to England. Karl helped him board the plane, where the seats had been

turned into beds and nurses to ensure no flight problems.

Two days later, Col. Stone waved him to join him for lunch. ”I’ve arranged a ten-minute call to Canada. You’ll be able to talk them right after lunch from my tent,” he said as they left the officers’ mess.

Peggy answered the phone. “I need to talk to my mother, Peggy. It’s about Rhinehart.”

He heard his mother’s voice a few seconds later. “Is it really you, Karl?”

“It is mutter. I want to tell you about Rhinehart. One of his men shot him to defend me from getting killed. I took him to the Canadian camp, where the surgeon removed the bullet. It left him very weak. He is now on a hospital ship arriving in Montreal in a week. He will be strong enough to take the train to St. Catharines. The war is over, and perhaps I can call again soon.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Grete was beside herself, and the doctor had to give her something to calm her down before they boarded the train, which seemed to take forever to leave the station. They had to board another train in Toronto to take them to Montreal. Kay had packed enough lunch to last them for almost a week in three hampers. May and Peggy sat in a different seat and watched the scenery go by as they stopped at Kingston before arriving in Montreal.

Hugh had arranged for a hotel close to the harbour, where they spent the night. Grete could not sleep and was first up to layout breakfast and get ready for the hospital ship that was expected to dock around 11 o’clock. Hugh flagged a taxi at ten o’clock to take them to the pier where the hospital ship was to berth. They were 50 minutes early, but it didn’t matter. Grete walked up and down the wooden wharf, using her hand over her eyes to look up the St. Lawrence, and kept walking until she could make out the image of a white ship.

They all stood where the gangplank would be placed and waited for another 25 minutes before the ship berthed. It took another 15 minutes before several nurses appeared on the deck, leading patients. They watched everyone who emerged down the gangplank. It was May who spotted Rhinehart first and began waving to him. He tried to wave back but gave up until the nurse escorted him off the ship.

Grete hugged him first and held him in her arms for almost five minutes before the others got a chance. May and Peggy were last, and each took one of his arms and escorted him to a taxi that brought them to the hotel.

“I’m hungry. The hospital ship meals were healthy, but what I’d really love is a hot hamburger. I used to dream about them in Germany.”

May and Peggy helped him again into the hotel and the hotel’s dining room. Grete ordered a hot hamburger and soft drinks when they were all seated. Rhinehart swallowed the soft drink and asked for another.

When they went to their rooms, May escorted him to his room, helped him undress and then undressed before sliding in beside him. She bent over, kissed him, and put her head on the pillow. “Wake me if you need me.” “Your mother felt one of us should be with you in case you needed help in the middle of the night.”

His father and mother smiled at him and May. Kay, Hugh and Peggy also had smiles. They ate breakfast in the hotel dining room before leaving to go to the railway station at 11 o’clock.

“We’ll be boarding the train in an hour,” said Hugh, looking at his wristwatch. “So eat up and get our bags ready for the taxi. We’ll need a six-seater.” He left to pay the hotel bill and order a taxi.

“I need a cane so that I can walk myself.” When they headed out to the taxi, Rhinehart was still wearing his officer’s pants and one of his father’s shirts and jackets. May and Peggy were there to help him, but he wanted to try on his own but was about to stumble when they grabbed him.

“Karl warned us that you were not to do anything that would tax your strength,” said Grete. “So you will get our help and like it.”

He grumbled as they helped him up the stairway to their coach and his seat. May sat beside him, and his mother and father in front of him. “If you need anything, just ask us,” said Konrad. Rhinehart closed his eyes and went to sleep just as the train pulled out of the station and headed for Toronto.

He woke when the train jerked to a stop at Kingston to take on passengers.”Where are we?”

“Kingston,” said May. “They’re taking passengers and will leave again in a few minutes.”

He closed his eyes again, and May woke him when they neared Toronto. ”It’s time to eat,” she said, taking out thick sandwiches from one of the hampers and stopping one of the trainmen to order coffee for them all.

Rhinehart held the mug in his hands. “When we were in Russia and on the Western front, all we had was make-believe coffee.” He took the cup in both hands and smelled its aroma before taking the first sip. “Let me never leave Canada again.” He ate his sandwich and a piece of Kay’s chocolate cake with brown sugar icing. He smiled at Kay. “You remembered.”

When they reached the farm and into the front room, Hugh and Konner had to help him out of the taxi.

Rhinehart grimaced. “I’m sorry to be such a burden to you all. But just sitting in this room gives me new strength.”

“We’ll be taking you to Hotel Dieu in St. Catharines for a thorough check-up before you’re here for good. You need also be seen by a cardiologist and x-rayed,” said his mother. “But tonight, you’ll be sleeping in your old bed.”

May appeared with two bottles of orange pop. “It’s either that or lime.”

They listened to the radio until he became tired again. Konrad and Hugh made a seat with their hands and carried him upstairs and into his bed. May appeared, undressed, and covered him before slipping in beside him when they left.

“What about your child?” he said with his eyes closed.

“The father suddenly appeared with my parents and took me to court to take custody of my baby. What you did not know at the time, this man took me to Toronto and told me that if I did not spend the night with him, I would have to find my way home.”

She could see Rhinehart grit his teeth. “When I am well enough, I will pay a visit to this man and help him change his tune.”

“You and she are the only persons I want in my life. Your parents have been wonderful to me in my greatest hour of need.”

He glanced at him and saw that he had gone to sleep.

***

Three months later, Rhinehart went for short walks to strengthen the heart muscle that the bullet had damaged. He was happier now and knew he had to build up his strength for what he had to do. They had become lovers and decided to get married.

“But not before I bring back your daughter to you,” he told her one night.

The days went past quickly. There was news from Karl and his work for the war crimes tribunal. He talked about all the key figures of Hilter’s Nationalist Socialist Party and how some of them had committed suicide. He would even the score for the wrongs he had committed for these individuals, Rhinehart decided. To think I once worshipped these individuals.

He walked farther and farther as the months went by and was walking

more quickly now. He had learned from Hugh that the Lieutenant who stole May’s baby was visiting the Seeleys with the child.

When he asked Hugh about the Seeleys, he described the day they arrived with the police and ripped the baby from May’s arms. They had promised to share the child with May in family court, but that never happened. They always had an excuse. One month it was because her child was sick, and the next month, there was a problem with their car. After a year or so, they just stopped calling and never did come with May’s child all this time.”

“She may not know me now,” said May that evening.

“There’s only one way to find out. I want you to go with me to the Seeleys. We will leave with your baby one way or another. Do you remember the fight we had when you came back from Toronto with that man I made you have sex with me? You broke your promise to me when you named me the father. But later, you blamed this individual so that I would not get in trouble. Now is the time to tell the world.”

It quickly became a family affair as they piled into Hugh’s Model T and drove to the Seeley farm. They could see the Lieutenant’s car outside as they walked to the back door and knocked.

Bruce Seeley, who saw them get out of the car through his kitchen window, opened the door. “I see you’ve brought everyone, Konrad, including that son of yours who was an officer in the SS. People like him are not welcome here.”

Rhinehart pushed him aside, and the others followed. May spotted her daughter first and reached out for her. The Lieutenant’s wife had her stand behind her.

“No SS veteran is going to order around a Lieutenant in the Canadian army,” said her husband.

“Stand aside before I give you a taste of what kind of an SS officer I’ve become.”

“You’re a German soldier and have no business being in our home against our wishes.” He picked up the phone and was about to dial the police when Rhinehart added, “please do, and we plan to tell him you broke your promise to family court to share May’s daughter with her.”

Jones stopped dialing, and Rhinehart added, “you should also be aware that the child you claim as yours is mine. May and I met after her episode with you in Toronto, and we had sex, and that child is mine.”

“You’re an officer of a defeated army and hold no sway here,” said Jones, “I was and am still an officer in the Canadian army.”

“I rose on my own merit while you sat out the war as a teacher at the

Military Academy in Kingston. There’s a world of difference between losing a make-believe battle, seeing your best friend lose his head in an artillery barrage, and seeing your men fall dead to hidden machine guns. If you did, you would like to even think about war in any way.”

May couldn’t wait to jump in, but Rhinehart had just begun. “You also raped the woman you think produced your child. One thing more, I am as much of a Canadian as you are. I was born here, the son of honest parents who wouldn’t lie to save their souls.”

May walked around Jones’s wife and led her child away in the silence that followed. Her daughter broke it, “she locked me in a room with no light to punish me because I would not call her mother.”

“If you want to see us in court, I will not neglect to inform the court that you raped me and left me to my own devices. Thanks to the Aberbachs, I found a place where I could bring up my child in peace.”

Grete had a smile on her face. “It’s time to leave,” she said to Rhinehart.

Karl returned a year later with tales about the war crimes trials and how the defendants acted. He and Rhinehart became closer over the next few months. Rhinehart had not improved. He tired easily and slept on the big chair in the front room on and off during the day. He wasn’t walking the way he did before and was putting on weight

“I’ve been itching to ask you this,” said Hugh, “did you ever fight against our troops?”

“Just the Brits and the U.S. troops. I had a good record with my superiors and could choose my battlefields. They were usually the ones the other commanders didn’t want to fight. I usually beat them,” he said with a smile.

Later that month, Rhinehart began breathing hard and was taken to the hospital. He was also getting chest pains with any exertion. “It’s like a knife sticking into my chest,” he told May one morning.

Grete decided that he needed to go to the hospital. He spent a day there as they took x-rays and increased his frequency of nitroglycerin. “Any time you get a pain, put one of these under your tongue, and the pain will go away after a few minutes. At first, you’ll also get a bad headache, but it also will go away,” said the doctor who examined him.

A few weeks later, May woke up with a start by his heavy breathing. It was in the middle of the night, and she reached out for his nitro pills, but they were gone. She cried out for help. Konrad was the first to enter, followed by his mother.

Rhinehart was breathing harder now and gasping for air. He suddenly stopped and began breathing again after a few seconds.

“Mutter,” he managed to say.

Grete bent over him. He looked up at her and smiled, and stopped breathing.

Kay heard her cry and put her arms around her. Crete and May were also crying, and they wrapped their arms each other.

The Seeleys came to his funeral along with the doctor who treated him at St. Catharines Hospital and all the farm’s customers. Konrad wished Karl were there to talk at Rhinehart’s funeral. It fell to Hugh.

“Rhinehart was always special from the day he was born. He was stronger than his brother in many ways and took the role of seeing that no one harmed Karl all the time they were in school. He couldn’t be there for Karl when he was in an opposing army, but as the war ended, Rhinehart took the bullet that was meant for his brother.”

He went on to talk about how protective Rhinehart had become before he died. “I like to think, a very happy man. May he rest in peace.”

Back at the house, when they all sat around the table and dinner was being served when May suddenly stood. “You all may be interested in knowing that I’m pregnant.”

Hugh reached for the Brandy bottle. A mixture of emotions was rising inside her that she had a hard time dealing with. Konrad kissed her on the forehead while Crete slipped away and went upstairs to her bedroom.

She glanced out the window to see the hillside covered in blue. The forget-me-nots, her favourite flower, were two weeks early. Tears ran down her cheeks as flashes of Rinehart holding a bunch of them in his thick fingers.

She wiped her eyes and whispered: Du hast mich lieb.

About the Author

Jim Carr’s adventure with words began as a teacher of Latin grammar for the first five years. He studied Latin for seven years and holds a degree in Classics and English. He has written a Latin Grammar called Lingua Latina, Latin for Beginners.

It was followed by a lengthy career in print journalism at two daily newspapers as a reporter, copy editor, columnist and editor. He left journalism to become a communications specialist for a number of national and international corporations and institutions.

He returned to journalism and now, in retirement, acts as associate editor of Spa Canada magazine and a freelancer for other publications. He writes a blog about Thai Retreats and spas, which is featured on Spa Canada’s website.

He has also written an ebook about 50+ outstanding Thai resorts and their spas in Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Pattaya, Hua Hin, Koh Samui, Krabi and Phuket, called Spa Magic Collection.

Four mystery novels, Abbot’s Moon, Gravediggers The Door, and Death Star and his book of short stories, Betrayal, are available as ebooks and as print books. His other books include There’s Always Tomorrow, and a historical romance, Yesterdays.

Forget-Me-Nots has a sequel -- Femme Fatale, that follows Karl’s adventures in Soviet East Berlin