by Judith Laik
“You and Lise did a good job with her disguise. It will be all right.”
“I didn’t expect the performance for the Russians to be real. I’m a little scared,” she admitted.
He reached out to take her hand. “We’re genuine performers. All the troops so far have loved us. We can put on a show and be on our way. We’re going to a different border checkpoint in case there was a record of how many of us came through this morning at the other one.”
“But what if Mrs. Sepp is recognized anyway? Or if her papers—or Toomas’s—get questioned?” Norma could feel her body shaking inside, where it didn’t show. Frank’s grip on her fingers was the only thing preventing her from flying apart. But she was sure he didn’t realize how truly scared she felt. She’d never faced such danger before. She was a long way from Tacoma, that was for sure.
“We’ll have to count on the disguise you and Lise gave Mrs. Sepp, and trust to luck. The only way to carry off a bluff like this is to be bold, act like we have nothing to worry about. Can you do that?” His expression suddenly turned deadly serious, with no hint of the clown he sometimes played.
She nodded. “Let’s talk about something else. Maybe I can forget for a while.”
“Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?”
“Oh, I don’t know. With all the preparations for this tour and Lise’s rescue of her mother, I haven’t asked you for ages how your brother is doing.”
He let go of her hand and moved back on the bench, his eyes avoiding hers. “He’s recovering, slowly. It’s uncertain whether he’ll ever regain his health. In fact, I was waiting for a chance to tell you.” He glanced at her quickly and then away again. “I’ve resigned my teaching position at Stadium, and just before we left, I told Mrs. Gillespie that I won’t volunteer at the club any more. I’m moving back to Montana to help my parents care for Jack and to work the ranch.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, trying to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. “I—well, I understand. They need you.” And so do I. But she must not think about herself. For too long, she’d relied on him to be her confidant and friend, to jolly her out of her bruised feelings when yet another soldier or sailor turned out not to be her special hero. She told him things she couldn’t share with anyone else. “Maybe we can write each other.”
“I’d like that.”
The truck slowed, driving out thoughts of the unwelcome news. The Sepps also broke off their conversation. Mrs. Sepp’s face paled and she clutched at Toomas’s arm. His lips formed a tight, grim line, while Lise’s breath caught in a gasp. Frank moved to the opening and leaned out, then turned back to them. “We’re here.”
They drove in, the gates shutting behind them. Stone walls, with wrought iron gates, not those of a typical army camp.
Servants came out to unload the equipment from the truck, and Norma turned to face the building. It was grand, also built of stone, a country estate much like others Norma had seen since her arrival in Austria, judging by its style probably built sometime in the 18th century.
A Russian officer came out and greeted them with a formal bow, speaking in precise English. “Welcome. I am Sergey Stanchinsky, captain in the Soviet army.” He had blond hair, sculpted, cold features with eyes placed too close together. “We are pleased to offer you our hospitality. We have rooms set aside where you may refresh yourselves. We have dinner arranged at 6 o’clock, and the entertainment will follow dinner.”
Frank leaned over to whisper to Norma. “Be careful what you say while you are ‘refreshing.’ Russians are known for listening devices. Warn Lise and Madame Sepp also.”
An awkward atmosphere pervaded at dinner. Tensions among the American-Estonian contingent subdued their normal ebullience, but the Russians seemed equally restrained. Seated, besides the four entertainers, were six Russian officers, including Capt. Stanchinsky and a silver-haired man, perhaps in his early 50s, with a hawkish face and receding hairline. He had introduced himself as Colonel Petrov, the camp commander.
Cpl. Kelly, as the USO group’s driver, and Toomas, whose uniform also proclaimed him an enlisted man, had not been invited to the table. Ironic, since they were sitting with supposedly classless Communists.
“I expected us to go to a camp like those we’ve performed at so far.” Norma spoke to Col. Petrov, who sat at her left. Manners, and protection of the Estonian women, with their notable accents that might provoke questions, compelled her to make an attempt at conversation with her host.
“The camp is two kilometers from here,” he said with a heavy accent. “There were no suitable quarters for officers. We found this estate to be very convenient.” He smiled.
What had happened to the family whose home this was? Best not to ask. “Where are we going to perform?”
“There is an excellent entertainment room in the house, with good acoustics and a stage. I believe you will all be pleased.” He nodded stiffly.
The table was set with expensive linens, crystal, and porcelain, and a tall silver epergne blocked Norma’s view across the table. The luxurious food ranged from the caviar presented before dinner to the Charlotte Russe dessert.
She wished she was back in the convivial atmosphere and simple food at Frau Schulz’s home. Nerves had stolen her appetite. Despite Mrs. Sepp’s disguise, Norma worried someone might recognize her. In fact, Col. Petrov’s cold gaze turned to the older woman a little too frequently. Mrs. Sepp looked rigid with fright, but she carried on a conversation with Capt. Stanchinsky, and the very young officer seated on her other side, apparently at ease.
Finally the meal ended and it was time to perform. Frank left the group to find Toomas and Cpl. Kelly and check that the stage was set up for their acts. Meanwhile, the women retired to the chamber they had previously used, to apply fresh lipstick and comb their hair. Once more, they guarded their speech, fearing their words might be overheard. “Remember to be careful of your voice, Frau Weber,” Norma reminded Mrs. Sepp to sing in the contralto range, not the soprano that was her usual voice. Luckily, as Lise said, she had a wide range. “You are just recovering from that cold.”
When they were ready, a male servant led them to where they were to perform. To Norma’s surprise, it was a large, vaulted-ceilinged room with a theatrical stage at one long end. Their piano and other musical instruments had already been placed on the stage. A dozen elegant, rococo chairs, set back about thirty feet from the stage, provided comfortable seating for the audience. Otherwise, the room was eerily empty, seemingly created for larger crowds.
Norma acted as announcer for the show. She introduced Lise first, who sang the two songs she had auditioned for Lance back in Tacoma, as well as Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, and a duet with Frank, People Will Say We’re in Love. They gazed into each other’s eyes during the song, like true lovers. He’s never looked like that when he sang with me. Norma had to blink back tears, surprised at her reaction. Must just be the tension of the situation.
Lise departed the stage, leaving Frank to perform a duet with Norma, Anything Goes. Then Norma took her turn and sang light, nonsense tunes: Swinging on a Star, Jeepers Creepers, and Mairzy Doats, persuading the Russians to sing along at the end of the last one. She doubted that, with the intricacies of the English language, they really understood such lines as “Mairzy doats and dozy doats and little lamzy divey,” but that didn’t spoil their enthusiasm.
When she finished her set, she took a bow and forced a wide grin. “You may not realize it, but we have a real Western cowboy with us tonight. He’s gonna demonstrate just how they catch those little dogies in the Wild West. Frank Atwater!” She clapped and moved to the side as Lise stepped to the piano and Frank strode on stage with his ropes. He had changed into Western garb, jeans and a plaid, open-necked shirt, and cowboy boots.
He opened his act with On the Atcheson, Topeka and the Santa Fe. Norma still could scarcely believe the skill with which he twirled the lassos. Frank sang Tumbling Tumbleweeds, I’m an Old Cowhand, and Pistol Packing
Mama, and wound up as always with Sioux City Sue, roping Norma and stealing his kiss.
Throughout the tour, egged on by the troops’ enthusiastic whistles and clapping, the kisses had been growing longer, more like real lovers’ kisses. This time, Frank’s lips barely touched hers, and they were chilled and stiff. His arms and torso were as taut as high-power lines. In spite of her own nerves, Norma missed the sensual touch. They parted, Frank gathered up his props, and jumped off the stage.
Mrs. Sepp mounted the stage. To distract the audience from recognizing the obvious physical resemblance between Lise and her mother, they’d decided Norma should accompany her. As she took her seat, she barely controlled the shaking in her fingers, and her heart hammered hard enough for someone standing nearby to hear. Norma played the medley of Marlene Dietrich songs, and Mrs. Sepp made her voice sultry and purring and remarkably like the popular German actress and songstress. She opened with Dietrich’s signature song, Lili Marlene, and was singing the last tune in her set, See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have, when disaster struck.
Col. Petrov slammed his fist down on the chair in front of him, and shouted, “I knew it. I could tell there was something… You are Meeri Sepp! I saw you in Berlin in 1936. Your eyes, your smile. With the blonde hair, it took me awhile to recognize you.”
Perhaps if Mrs. Sepp could have bluffed her way through the accusation, the situation could have been salvaged. But she stopped singing, her face paper-white, and flinched as Petrov drew his revolver. His aim moved between Mrs. Sepp and the two men in US army uniforms. “What did you have planned, eh? Sneaking her out of the zone? I know the game—she is an Estonian national and as such must be returned to her own country. None of you are going anywhere tonight.”
The other Russians also drew their guns and trained them on the group. Norma jumped up from the bench and desperately gazed around. Her heart banged against her chest and her legs could scarcely hold her upright as she made her way to Mrs. Sepp’s side.
Frank stood close to Petrov and a second officer. Lise had seated herself nearby when she completed her part in the performance and she stayed there, frozen. Toomas and Cpl. Kelly were at the far, stage-right side of the room, not moving but tensed for action.
Norma moved out in front of Mrs. Sepp. She tried to keep the shaking from her voice. “You cannot hold us. We are American citizens.”
“I do not think so, Miss McIlroy. Not all of you, at least.”
If they had any chance at all of escape, she would have to create a diversion so that the men could act. They were outnumbered, but the situation was desperate. She took hold of Mrs. Sepp’s arm, keeping herself between the older women and the Russians, and said in a low voice, “Get behind the piano.” She gave her a push in that direction.
Instantly, the Russian officers all cocked their guns. Petrov and the man to his left aimed at the two women on stage while the others covered Frank and the other men. Reflex took over Norma’s brain. She pushed Mrs. Sepp to the floor, partly blocked by the bulk of the piano, and rolled on top of her, turning so she could see what was happening.
At the exact moment Petrov and the other officer fired in her direction, a loop of rope circled the air and dropped around the Russians. Frank tightened the lasso, jerking the men off their feet. They crashed to the floor. He moved to the downed men, kicked Petrov in the head, and bent over the other officer. Norma couldn’t tell what else he did, but he moved back to the colonel and repeated the motions, then picked up a gun. He bent over the other officer and took his gun also. He shoved them in his pocket.
Lise screamed as more gunfire erupted. Norma pushed herself and Mrs. Sepp closer to the piano, expecting to feel bullets rip through her. It didn’t happen. She popped up again to see a melee as the men fought with fists and chairs. Petrov and the officer who had stood next to him lay on the floor, tied up like calves at a rodeo. Frank, Toomas, and Kelly wrestled with the other four Russians. As Norma watched, Lise picked up the leg of a broken chair and swung it at the head of Capt. Stanchinsky. He fell, rolled, and struggled to get back up. She hit him again, and he lay still.
Frank knocked out the man he had engaged, and with a glance to see that Toomas and Kelly didn’t need help with their opponents, ran to Norma, and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you all right? You weren’t shot?” He ran his hands over her arms, looking her over. His eyes were wild.
“I’m fine,” she managed to say, although she was holding herself together by the slimmest thread. Another shot rang out. Frank whirled, pulling one of the guns he’d picked up from his pocket. Capt. Stanchinsky still lay on the floor, but he’d recovered consciousness and had shot Cpl. Kelly. Blood dripped from the American’s arm. Without hesitation Frank fired and the captain fell back, not moving again.
Lise ran to Kelly, pulled off his coat, rolled up his shirtsleeve and, undoing his necktie, wrapped it around his wounded arm. Norma turned to Mrs. Sepp. “Are you all right?”
“I am a little bruised, I think, but I will live,” the older woman said, her blonde wig askew. “I think perhaps you saved my life.”
“And Frank saved us with that lasso,” Kelly said. “Good work. They got the drop on us, and we couldn’t draw without getting shot first.”
Norma’s heart swelled at these words. Her pride at Frank’s heroism warred with her feelings. She could no longer deny she was in love with Frank. But it could never be. He didn’t feel the same, and he was moving to Montana as soon as they returned home.
Vienna, two days later, mid-July, 1945
“It’s been an adventure, for sure.” Norma gave Lise a hug. The women stood in the middle of a scene of disarray, the luggage of the whole USO troop stacked and waiting to be loaded in the C-47.
The Estonian woman was staying with her mother in Austria to help navigate the process of obtaining permission for her to immigrate to the US.
After the battle with the Russian officers two nights before, a few Austrian servants who had remained at the mansion helped load the show equipment had showed them the way to a cellar room that could be locked, where the men stashed the surviving Russian officers. Toomas and Frank hid Stanchinsky’s body in another room.
They agreed to leave the Austrian servants to make their way home, or wherever they chose to go next. Toomas pointed out they were resentful citizens of a country occupied by the Russians and not likely to cause the American-Estonian group any problems. As the Austrians left the mansion, Cpl. Kelly said he had no doubt most of them would flee, perhaps to make their own way out of the zone.
The hardest moment was when Toomas parted from his mother and sister. He intended to return to Estonia to continue their country’s fight for freedom from the Soviets. Norma suspected that Cpl. Kelly had joined the rescue operation of Mrs. Sepp in order to contact Toomas and set up communications between them.
Toomas as much as proved it when he gazed at Kelly as he told Lise and Mrs. Sepp, “I have contacts in the West. I’ll try to get word to you.” The women had openly cried. Even Toomas’ eyes appeared red-rimmed. Norma went teary-eyed too.
On the drive back to Vienna, she tried to comfort Lise and Mrs. Sepp. But she knew what Toomas intended was extremely dangerous. Despite Kelly’s wound, he had insisted on driving. They’d passed the Russian guards at the border with no trouble, crossing into the American zone. They’d all taken a deep breath of the free air then.
Now, Frank hugged the two women. “We’ll see you in the States soon enough. There won’t be any trouble approving a famous opera singer’s immigration.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll see you again before you leave.” Their plane descended as it made its final approach to McChord Field, south of Tacoma. Norma tried for nonchalance, but her brain was fuzzy and her whole body ached. She was exhausted from the long hours of the flight home after the weeks of touring and the danger and drama of their additional mission. But mostly she missed Frank already. Perhaps they would have had a chance if she had only read her heart lon
g ago. “You’ll be busy packing all your belongings, I suppose.”
“I’m sure I’ll come by the USO club to say good-bye to everyone.” Frank’s face revealed no emotion, but she could see the strong feelings beneath the surface. He was about to sacrifice the life he loved—his students, his teaching career—for his family.
After a pause, Norma asked, “Will Lise be moving to Montana?”
He frowned. “Why should she do that?”
Norma’s face heated. “Well, you’ve grown very close in these last few weeks, while you were rehearsing and all. I thought…”
“You assumed from that some romantic connection between us? No, Norma, we’re just friends.” For just a second his eyes revealed almost unbearable pain, but he turned away, his expression hidden from her.
She must have imagined it. “Why did you ask her to accompany you, instead of me? I thought we were friends, too.”
“I was foolish. I had some stupid idea—well, I wanted to surprise you. Maybe impress you.” He turned back to her, but his expression had gone blank, unreadable to her.
“Oh.” Norma couldn’t remember feeling this bereft of words. What did he mean? They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He didn’t speak, which compelled her to fill the silence. “I don’t think we’re friends.”
“You don’t?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“’Cause when friends say good-bye it doesn’t feel like this.” Her voice had gone gritty, and tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Like what?”
“Awful. It feels like my life is over.” Her ears popped from the change in air pressure as the plane descended. She didn’t have much time left with him.