Fire and Steel, Volume 6

by Gerald N. Lund

  “And that makes it all go away, right? You’re only carrying false identity papers for six people, four of whom are Jewish.”

  “Not so loud,” he whispered. “The children will hear you.” He went to her and took her gently in his arms. “You’ve seen the briefcase. It’s amazing. You can’t tell there’s a secret compartment there.”

  “Unless you look very closely.”

  “All right,” he said, moving back. “If you’d like, I’ll call the Bavarian Police. See if there are still army checkpoints at the border. Will that make you feel better?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and went back to his packing. But her eyes never left him. He straightened again. “What?”

  “I don’t like you bringing Benji into this, not in any way.”

  Now he threw up his hands in his exasperation. “I’m not bringing him into anything. I’m going to stop and see him. And why not? Potentially, he’s my future son-in-law. And members of your branch know he’s in Vienna. If they learn I was down there and didn’t even try to see him, or take him and his companion to dinner, they’ll think it is odd.”

  “And you’re not going to ask him to help you find this man you’re supposed to see?”

  “I’m not a fool, for crying out loud. I’ll ask him for some directions on how to get around the city, but that’s all.”

  She shot him a skeptical look.

  “I don’t want to be found wandering around the streets of the city like some stupid tourist. So I’ll have him draw me a map, and that’s all.”

  “Gut. Because it wouldn’t be just your potential son-in-law that you’re putting in jeopardy. It’s his companion, too. And it could bring the Church into it as well.”

  He raised his right arm. “I give you my word that I will not put Benji, nor his companion, nor your church in jeopardy in any way. I so solemnly swear. Okay?”

  Emilee came over and kissed him. “Thank you, Hans. I’m sorry to worry so, but there is so much at stake here.”

  “I know, I know. And I am going to take every precaution.”

  She kissed him again. “I’ll pack you a lunch for the train. Anything special?”

  “Yeah, how about a T-bone steak, some fried potatoes, and maybe a piece of that raspberry torte of yours that I like so well?”

  She laughed, turned around, and left without answering.

  “I need to leave in about forty-five minutes,” he called after her. “So you’ll need to get started on that steak right away.”

  There was no answer, except he thought he heard a soft “Ha!”

  7:31 a.m.

  Hans was in his office, loading his notepads, pencils, and a couple of books into the briefcase, when he became aware that there was someone standing in the doorway. He jumped a little. To his surprise, Emilee, his mother, and Lisa were all there. He put the last of his things in his briefcase and got to his feet. “And what is this?” he asked slowly.

  Emilee stepped forward, her expression as grave as he could remember seeing in a long time. “Hans, there’s something I need to say.”

  He snapped the briefcase shut and set it on the floor beside the suitcase. “All right,” he said warily. “Do you want to sit down?”

  She shook her head. “Hans, I. . . .” Emilee drew in a long, slow breath. “Hear me out. Don’t— Just hear me out, okay?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “As I was preparing your lunch a few minutes ago, suddenly I had the strongest feeling come over me. It was very strange.”

  “What kind of a feeling?”

  Another deep breath, then a long sigh. “I had this sudden impression that Lisa needs to go to Vienna with you.”

  Hans stiffened. “What? No, Emilee.”

  “That’s what I said too. But I couldn’t shake it, Hans. It was . . . so powerful.”

  “No. This is ridiculous. I’m leaving in ten minutes.”

  “I know. That’s what I said to myself too. But. . . .” She shook her head again. “You’re not going to believe this either.” She turned to her mother-in-law. “Tell him, Mama Inga.”

  Inga didn’t hesitate. “I was in the bedroom, getting dressed so I could come out and say goodbye to you, when. . . .”

  “No!” Hans snapped. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “I’m sorry, Hans. But it’s true. Suddenly, I had the strongest feeling that Lisa needs to go to Vienna with you. And I hadn’t talked to Emilee at all.”

  “Aw, come on, Mama. This is crazy.”

  Lisa stepped between her mother and grandmother. She said nothing, just looked steadily at her father. For a moment he was confused, but then suddenly understanding dawned. His visage darkened. “Not you too? Absolutely not.”

  “Mama and Oma said nothing to me, Papa. I swear. But as I was brushing my hair, all of a sudden I had this powerful thought come into my head, almost like a voice, and it—”

  “No, Lisa,” he thundered. “I don’t know what you three are cooking up here, but no! You are not coming with me.”

  Lisa reached back behind her grandmother and brought forth a small suitcase. “I’m all packed. I won’t make you late.”

  Hans was really angry now. “This . . . this . . . conspiracy of yours is not going to work. Lisa, you are absolutely not coming with me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Papa,” she replied calmly. Then she stepped right up to him and looked up into his face. “Have I ever lied to you, Papa? Ever?”

  “I. . . . No, but. . . . I don’t understand it, but the answer is the same. You are not going with me.” He punched out each word angrily.

  “Think about it, Schatzi,” Emilee said. “What could be more innocent than a father and daughter traveling together to do research, her last holiday before she starts at university in a couple of weeks?”

  He stared at her for a few moments, then stepped back, holding up one hand as if to ward her off. “Goodbye. I have to go.”

  Lisa turned to her mother as if he wasn’t there. “Can you take me to the train station, Mama? Guessing what Papa would say, Mama, I called the station. There’s another train leaving for Vienna at 11:45.”

  “Yes,” Emilee said. “I’ll take you.”

  As her father’s face reddened, Lisa turned back to him. “I’m almost nineteen now, Papa. You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do anymore.”

  6:30 p.m.—Margareten District, Vienna

  Benji set aside the letter he was writing when the knock on the door sounded. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ve got it, Elder Bachman,” he called toward the bathroom door.

  There was a mumble that sounded like “Okay” coming out of a mouth filled with a toothbrush.

  Benji moved quickly across the room, unbolted the door, and pulled it open. For one long second, he froze. Then he fell back, nearly tripping over himself. “Lisa!”

  “Guten Abend, Elder Westland.” Her smile was like a searchlight in the darkness.

  “Hello, Benji,” Hans said, extending his hand. “Guten Abend.”

  6:34 p.m.

  When the bathroom door opened, Benji immediately stood up, as did Lisa and her father. “Elder Bachman, let me introduce you to Herr Hans Eckhardt and his daughter, Alisa, from Munich. Herr Eckhardt, Alisa, this is my companion, Elder Jonathan Bachman, from San Jose, California.”

  Surprised, but beaming, Elder Bachman shook both of their hands. “I am very pleased to meet you,” he said in passable German. “Benji has told me about you and your family.”

  “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Elder Bachman,” Hans said. “Benji has written to us about you and tells us you are adjusting well to missionary work.”

  “Not as fast as I would like, but it is coming.”

  Benji turned to Lisa. “I can’t believe you’re here. I was just writing to you.”
r />   “You’re just saying that,” Lisa teased.

  “No, really. I. . . .” He turned and pointed to the small desk. “It’s right there.”

  “I thought you were only allowed to write on Mondays?”

  “Ja, ja. But. . . . Never mind. I’ll explain in a moment. So what are you doing here in Vienna? Talk about a shock.”

  “I am here to do some research for my doctoral studies,” Hans said. “At the University of Vienna.”

  “Oh.”

  Lisa then spoke. “As you know, I start at the University of Munich in two weeks, so I am trying to get ready and have a lot going on, but Papa said he was lonely and insisted I come with him, so here I am.”

  Her father gave her a withering look, which Lisa blandly ignored. Hans came in again. “We’re just off the train and thought we’d stop by and see if you elders have had supper yet.”

  They exchanged glances, then both shook their heads. “Nein,” Benji said. “I was going to cook us up a batch of sauerkraut and bratwurst here in a bit. We’d love to have you eat with us, though it’s not much.”

  “Nonsense. Lisa and I are hungry. Train food is not the best cuisine. And we would like to take both of you to dinner with us.” As the missionaries looked at each other, he went on. “However, in the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit that we have an ulterior motive. Lisa and I are hoping you can give us some help in finding our way around the city. We’re here for three days.”

  To Lisa’s surprise, Benji’s face fell. “Oh? I . . . I’m afraid we can’t be very helpful, Herr Eckhardt. Elder Bachman and I got a call from our mission president this afternoon, and he wants us to leave tomorrow morning. We are to visit all the elders and sisters in the eastern half of Austria.”

  It was all Lisa could do to stop from crying out. She looked away, but not before she saw Benji turn and look at her, his face stricken as well.

  “It’s a bit of an emergency, actually,” he explained. He glanced up at the clock above the sink. “But, Herr Eckhardt, we have a very nice Biergarten not far from here, where the food is excellent. And just around the corner from it is a bookshop. They will have tourist maps of the city. But they close at seven o’clock. We can still make it—it’s only a few blocks from here.” He then looked at Lisa. “Then I’ll explain why we have to leave.”

  “Then let’s go,” Hans proclaimed.

  7:43 p.m.—Wiener Gärten, Vienna

  “Anything else?” the waitress asked, smiling prettily at the two missionaries. They all shook their heads, and she smiled and moved away.

  Benji turned to Hans. “We have a few minutes. Would you like us to show you some things on the map?”

  “Ja,” Hans replied. “That would be most helpful.”

  As Hans opened and spread out the map, both missionaries stood and came around to stand beside him. Benji asked which hotel they were staying in and started there, showing them key points and directing them how to find them. Hans used a napkin to take notes. Lisa, who was on the other side of the table, had a chance to study Benji as he spoke. And she thought her heart was going to break.

  When the thought of going with her father had first come to her that morning, she had dismissed it as schoolgirl fantasy. Benji was now a little more than a month from the end of his three-month extension, and she was counting off every day until his release, when it would no longer be “Sister Eckhardt” and “Elder Westland.” When her father had announced the night before that he was going to Vienna, the thought had crossed her mind, but she knew what the answer would be, so she had brushed it aside. Then came the feeling this morning.

  Now she was confused. Why? If she was lucky, she might have two hours with him, and then he was off. It didn’t make sense to her. Once again it seemed like a conspiracy to keep them apart. Jo going to America to see him while she went to Hitler Youth Camp. Her going to America, hopes high, only to find that he was gone. Jo and Oma emigrating to America while she stayed home. Then he was asked to extend his mission for three more months. And now, two hours. All that way for a lousy two hours.

  If you had known it would only be for a couple of hours, would you have come? The answer to that had come in no more than a hundredth of a second. Absolutely. So Lisa smiled when he glanced up at her.

  As he finished answering her father’s final questions, Benji turned to Lisa and smiled at her. Then he and Elder Bachman came back around and sat down, with Benji sitting next to her. “All right, then,” he said. “I think we owe you an explanation. Because,” he rushed on as she went to speak, “you need to know that if this were something we could change, we would.” He turned to face Lisa. “Do you remember when President J. Reuben Clark came to Germany last year?”

  “Yes, of course. We never got to see him, but we did get to hear President Grant.”

  “President Clark is a member of our First Presidency,” he said to Hans. “He was a very prominent government official in Washington before he was called to be a General Authority.”

  Hans nodded. “I remember Emilee and Mama talking about him.”

  “Well, he was invited to some kind of government economic conference in Berlin last year. So while he was here, he and President Grant met all the mission presidents in Europe.”

  Lisa nodded too, though she wasn’t sure why this was relevant.

  “So, I guess the conference was so successful last year that our government invited President Clark back again. He was here last month. Once again, he went to the mission presidents’ seminar, which they moved to Berlin so he could meet with them.”

  He turned and was speaking to Hans now. “He was in our State Department, which is like your Foreign Ministery. Hearing all the news about what was going on here, especially with all the talk about Lebensraum and the Sudetenland, President Clark stopped off in Washington and spoke with his contacts in the State Department.”

  Benji suddenly had Hans’s full attention. “Officially, you mean?” Hans asked.

  “Uh . . . no, I don’t think so. All informal, but nonetheless useful.”

  Now it was Lisa who pulled herself back to the conversation. “How does that affect you?”

  “If war breaks out between Germany and Czechoslovakia,” Hans said, “it will affect everyone. Austria included, since they share a long, common border with the Czechs.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Benji replied. “There was enough concern—and this was for all the European missions, remembering what happened in the last war—that President Clark asked all eleven mission presidents to start drawing up contingency plans to evacuate our missionaries.”

  “Evacuate! To where?”

  Benji’s face was grim. “To the nearest non-involved countries. So for the East German Mission, that would be Denmark and Holland. For the West German Mission, it would be Holland, Belgium, and France, and possibly Switzerland for those farthest south. In our mission, the Swiss-Austrian Mission, only those of us in Austria would be moved out, and that would be to Switzerland, since they are neutral.”

  Relief flooded across Lisa’s face. “But not home.”

  “No. This would just be a precaution, unless another full-scale war broke out.”

  “And is that why you’re leaving tomorrow?” she pressed. “You’re being evacuated?”

  “No, Lisa. We’re not packing up quite yet. But the situation is serious enough that the mission presidents have been instructed to have a specific evacuation plan for each missionary companionship, including enough money to purchase train tickets. The president wired us the individual plan for each companionship and also wired us money. So that’s what we’ll be doing the next four days. Taking that around. That’s what I was starting to write to you.”

  “Four days?” Lisa cried in dismay.

  Surprised, Benji turned to her. “Yes, why?”

  “Because we leave in three,” she said forlornly.
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  Hans was nodding thoughtfully. “That is a very wise move on your church’s part. Very wise indeed.”

  September 20, 1938, 7:25 p.m.—Eckhardt Home

  It was an idyllic scene at the Eckhardt home on this pleasant fall evening.

  Hans was in his office correcting exams. Emilee and Oma Inga were in the living room listening to a concert by the Berlin Philharmonic as they did handwork. Emilee was finishing a needlepoint of Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Inga was knitting a winter stocking hat for one of the younger children. The children were playing a relatively quiet game of Chinese checkers in front of the radio. They were quiet only because Emilee kept threatening to shut the game down if they couldn’t contain themselves. Lisa was in her bedroom with the door closed, studying her American history textbook in preparation for an exam the next day. Jo, of course, was not there because she was at her private Catholic boarding school.

  When the phone rang, the Eckhardts’ three children leaped to their feet and dashed for the kitchen. Hans Otto went through the door first, but Enrika ducked past him and grabbed the phone off its hook. “Hallo! This is the Eckhardt residence.” She was eleven now and very prim and proper. Hans Otto and Niko leaned in close so they could hear.

  Rikki’s eyes widened and she nearly dropped the phone. She turned toward the door and cupped her hand to her mouth. “Mutti. It’s Benji.” Then she put the phone to her mouth again. “Guten Abend, Benji. It’s me, Rikki.”

  Emilee was up and in the kitchen in a flash. She took the phone from Rikki, hushing the others. “Elder Westland. It’s Emilee. Is that really you?”

  “Guten Abend, Sister Eckhardt. Yes, it’s me.”

  She covered the phone with her hand. “Hans Otto, get Lisa. Quickly!” As he left she lifted the phone again. “Where are you? We heard that they evacuated all missionaries from Austria.”

  “They did. We got the orders the night of the sixteenth. Elder Bachman and I are in Basel, Switzerland. We just got here a couple of hours ago.”