The Upside of Hunger

by Roxi Harms

  Near Bremerhafen, the train slowed as they rolled into a beehive of port activity. He strained to read the names of the ships they were passing. When they came to a halt, Adam stood and lifted his hat and his cardboard suitcase down from the luggage rack as the conductor announced, "Bremerhafen—end of the line—everyone off!"

  This is the beginning of the line, thought Adam as he stepped down off the train, grinning to himself.

  For a few moments, he stood transfixed. People of all descriptions were rushing in every direction. Mothers holding onto small children, old couples shuffling along, young women and young men on their own dressed in their best travelling clothes. Suitcases and heavy trunks on dollies were everywhere. Dock workers were heaving cargo off and on vessels of all sizes, captains and other men in uniform were rushing on and off boats, and immigration officials scanned lists and directed traffic. Adam stood and took it all in.

  It didn't take long to find The Fair Sea, even amidst the throngs of people. She was the biggest ship in port, by far. The official standing at the bottom of the gangplank ran his finger down the passenger list. "Baumann, Adam, disembarking in Quebec City with onward passage by train to Vancouver," he read out loud, looking at Adam for confirmation. Adam nodded.

  "How many does this ship hold?" Adam asked, gazing at the massive ship while the man marked him off the list and hunted through some papers.

  "Eighteen hundred. She was built for carrying troops, but now she transports immigrants from Europe to North America and Australia. We got 1,800 Germans on this trip, headed for Canada." He handed Adam a small bundle of papers. "Here's your papers for when we dock in Quebec City. Men's quarters are in the bow."

  CHAPTER NINETY

  Most of the passengers were close to Adam's age. Friendships were struck up easily as they speculated about what Canada would be like, and what they would do when they arrived. Everyone he talked to was headed for Ontario, other than Willy Fleischmann, a guy he met the first afternoon at sea. Willy's wife had run off and taken their young son, and he wanted to get as far away from Germany as possible. Vancouver, the wild west of Canada, would be perfect, he explained to Adam.

  "Play another!" a pretty blonde girl called out a couple of evenings later, as the clapping died away. Adam had eaten his supper in the second sitting, as per the posted schedule. When they'd finished eating, he and Willy had come out to the deck to find a place to sit near the back of the ship out of the wind, and Adam had pulled out his harmonica. Before he finished the first song a small crowd had gathered, sitting on the deck cross-legged or perched on the large wooden storage boxes that lined the walls of the ship.

  As he was considering what to play next, a young male voice called out, "How about a polka?"

  "As long as you get up and dance," laughed Adam and put his mouth organ to his lips. With that, the young man who had requested the song hopped up and pulled the girl beside him to her feet. Soon the deck was full of merriment as couples crisscrossed the makeshift dance floor to the music. While he played, Adam scanned the people who remained sitting. It was almost all girls. There were a lot of young women on the ship on their way to join men who had gone ahead of them to get established. Adam looked at the pretty girl who had asked him to play another. She was standing off to the side of the group, tall, with long sexy legs and high boots. She smiled brightly as she clapped to the music.

  After a few more songs, he tucked the mouth organ back into his pocket. "That's all I got for tonight," he said to the group. As he stood up to go and talk to the pretty blonde where she'd settled with her back against the ship's wall, a couple of girls started singing a lively German folk song. Adam joined in as he tipped his hat to the blonde girl and lowered himself to the deck beside her. As the last line of the song ended, another started up. Looking at one another and laughing, Adam and the blonde girl joined in again. A slower song followed, and the crowd swayed as they sang the romantic lines. Finally, no one could think of another song, and a few people stood up to leave.

  "I'm Adam," Adam smiled at the girl.

  "I'm Beatrice. Pleased to meet you. I loved your music," she said, smiling prettily at him.

  "Would you like to go for a stroll around the deck before turning in for the night?"

  Beatrice was bound for Toronto to join her fiancé. He'd written lots about Canada in his letters. They would be married soon after she arrived, Beatrice explained as they walked. After strolling a full lap around the ship, Adam said good night and left Beatrice at the entrance to the women's quarters.

  As the shipload of immigrants journeyed across the Atlantic away from their homeland, a carefree mood prevailed. Laughter could often be heard as groups passed the time playing games and swapping stories.

  Adam often joined one of the many card games that took place in the afternoons. In the evenings, he was scarcely seen without Beatrice by his side, dancing in the ship's refurbished ballroom or strolling arm in arm under the stars. They compared notes on Germany and their families, and wondered what it would be like to live in Canada, if it would really be as cold as they'd heard, and if bears really roamed through towns attacking people. Willy often tagged along, but when they wanted some privacy, it wasn't hard to give him the slip.

  A week into the voyage, The Fair Sea hit rough water. Within hours, the air below deck reeked of vomit. For three days, Adam and others not affected by the rolling seas, spent part of each morning and each afternoon carrying babies and toddlers from the women's quarters up to the dining hall, feeding and entertaining them to give their mothers a break.

  Then, the day before they were due to dock in Quebec City, the morning dawned bright and blue, the seas hospitably calm. Anticipation had been growing. Talk among the passengers was that they would sight land before dark. From early afternoon, Adam stood at the rail with his eyes on the horizon, whistling one tune after another. He didn't want to miss the first glimpse of Canada.

  "Hi, Adam," a soft voice beside him interrupted his thoughts. It was Beatrice. She wasn't her usual smiley self.

  "Where's Willy?" she asked.

  "In the loo, I think. His stomach isn't used to the calm water," Adam joked.

  "Good. I wanted to talk to you alone," she hesitated and looked down.

  "Okay, go ahead, we're alone," said Adam.

  She raised her eyes to meet Adam's and hesitated. Then her words came in a rush. "I want to go to Vancouver with you."

  "But you're meeting your fiancé in Ontario, aren't you?"

  "Yes, but you said the future is in the west, and I haven't seen Karl in ages and sometimes I feel like I hardly remember him, and I'd like to go with you instead. Wouldn't you like that?" she batted her lashes and smiled.

  "Of course I'd like that, Beatrice," said Adam, putting his arm around her shoulder, "and I'm very flattered. But I can't take another man's fiancée from him. And besides that, I only have seven dollars and no job. I'm expecting a lot of hard times ahead, and your fiancé already has that good job and everything all set up so you can enjoy Canada like you should." Adam's voice was gentle, but he saw Beatrice's eyes fill with tears. "I'm really, really flattered, but I'm not established like your man is, and I can't take responsibility for someone else right now. Even if she is the prettiest girl on the ship."

  Beatrice smiled a tiny smile through her tears at the compliment. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but the last thing he needed was a girlfriend or a wife.

  "Okay, well, that was just awfully embarrassing then," Beatrice said, turning to stare at the horizon.

  "Nonsense, forget about it. And your fiancé is the luckiest guy in Canada. I bet he'll have a nice house set up, and in no time, you'll be starting a family and your kids will be Canadian." Adam continued his pep talk as Willy came up and leaned on the rail on the other side of him.

  "What's that, Adam?" Willy asked.

  "Nothing. Beatrice is just excited to see her fiancé after all this time," he said, winking at her.

  Early the next morn
ing, passengers filed up onto the deck with their luggage to watch as they cruised up the St. Lawrence River, into the gulf, and approached Quebec City. The air nearly crackled with the crowd's nervous anticipation. Everyone strained to get a closer look.

  "All the best, Adam," the guy who'd slept in the bunk above him called out over the heads of the people between them.

  "You too. Stay warm."

  "Bye, Adam," yelled a voice on the other side of him.

  "All the best!"

  The handshaking, backslapping, and hugging continued as the ship docked and the immigrants began to file off and disperse into line-ups according to their final destination.

  On the dock, Adam and Willy pumped the hands of the last of their new friends, and stood for a few minutes, laughing at how the ground swayed under their feet.

  "Come on, let's find the line-up for Vancouver." Adjusting his hat to a jaunty angle, Adam turned towards the crowded building, Willy right behind him.

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

  It turned out Willy and Adam really were the only passengers from The Fair Sea going all the way to the west coast of Canada. Adam couldn't understand a word of the strange-sounding conversations all around them on the train. And all he could see out the window was snow-covered forest, devoid of colour. It went on forever. A day later, the scenery hadn't changed. Canada was bigger than he could ever have imagined, and, my God, the distances between the towns.

  When they did slow down to pass through a town he stared at the buildings.

  "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get work as a bricklayer in Canada, Willy," he finally said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Look closely at these walls." The train had slowed right down to pass through a little town. He and Willy put their faces close to the glass and Adam pointed as they went by the next building. "The joins between the bricks are so fine you can't really even see them. Look at how smooth the whole wall is."

  Willy squinted and tried to see what Adam meant.

  "I don't know how they do it." Adam sat back against his seat again as the train resumed its speed and the scenery changed back to snow covered trees.

  Climbing down onto the platform the next morning, Adam looked for the conductor. The train was stopped at a little station, and they needed to restock on food. Using sign language and pointing at the face of the clock on the station, they determined that the train would be stopped for about twenty minutes.

  It didn't take long to find what they were looking for in the little shop across the street, and soon they were back on the platform with time to spare. Adam wandered over to the building at the end of the platform to have a closer look at the brickwork. He knocked his knuckle against the wall and listened.

  "Well, I'll be damned. It's not brick. It's a thick sheet of some kind of tar paper made with sand or something, covering a wall made of wood. Unbelievable."

  Adam inspected the wall and the structure of the building for a few more minutes, until the conductor stepped down from the train and motioned for them to board. As the train eased out of the station, he became even more apprehensive. They didn't need bricklayers in this country if that's how they built. They needed carpenters.

  "Isn't this bread the strangest thing you've seen?" Willy said as he folded a slice around a chunk of Spam.

  "Yep," said Adam. "I've been wondering about that too. First of all, how do they get it so white, and how do they get it full of air? They must use some kind of an air compressor, which seems like an awfully big expense for a bakery."

  The next morning, Adam and Willy were feeling groggy when the train slowed to a stop. Three nights sleeping sitting upright on a hard train seat was taking its toll, and Adam's legs were stiff. It had been snowing lightly since first light. The sign on the platform said Winnipeg. It looked like a fairly big town. They watched silently as people filed off and a new crowd filed on, reaching up to stow bags and then hats, scarves, and heavy coats, shedding their winter layers and settling into their seats. Some even had fur hats and wraps, and everyone was wearing big, thick boots.

  "I wonder what the temperature is out there," Adam mused out loud.

  "German?" a young man sitting opposite enquired when he heard Adam speak.

  Adam and Willy both nodded.

  "Do you have a Leica camera? I will buy it from you," the young man spoke slowly and rubbed his fingers together as if he was talking about money, but Adam and Willy didn't understand.

  "Leica camera," he said even more slowly, and made a motion like taking a picture.

  Fishing in his coat pocket, Adam pulled out the little Agfa camera he'd splurged on just before leaving Laudenbach.

  "No, this is an Agfa," said the man, pointing to the brand printed on the top of the camera. "I want Leica."

  "No Leica," said Adam, putting the camera back in his pocket. He sat quietly, thinking. Canadians obviously had disposable money. He just had to pay attention and figure out where the opportunities were.

  The forest had disappeared and the land was flat as far as they could see. Nothing but white snowy expanse, and an occasional small town. The next afternoon, they rolled into a place called Jasper, the last stop before Vancouver.

  "I'm not getting off. I've got enough food for tonight and can't afford to spend any more money anyway," Adam was saying to Willy just as a German voice interrupted from the front of the car.

  "Adam Baumann und Willy Fleischmann?"

  "Yes," they said in unison. A tall, uniformed man strode towards them, speaking German.

  "I am from the immigration office and have been contacted by my colleagues in Vancouver. They have been reviewing the files of the German immigration program of which you are a part," the man explained. "I understand you are both planning to go to Vancouver to seek work. Do you have any relatives or friends in Vancouver to stay with until you find work?" He glanced back and forth between Adam and Willy.

  "No, neither of us knows anyone in Vancouver," said Adam hesitantly.

  "Because it is winter time now, they say it is unlikely that you will find work in Vancouver. Labourer jobs typically become available in Vancouver in the spring and summer. Perhaps you have enough savings with you to live on over the winter if you can't find work?"

  "No, sir, I don't," replied Adam. This was serious. Willy said nothing.

  "There is another option," the immigration official said. "There is a place called Prince George, in the northern part of British Columbia. It's a booming area. There are almost 5,000 people in the town now, and a lot of work in the winter. Hundreds of sawmills and they all need men. The jobs are out in the bush, working in camps. They give you room and board. It's pretty basic, mind you. But they're willing to teach guys the ropes as long as you work hard and don't mind the cold."

  Adam and Willy looked at each other and back at the officer. After a moment, Adam shrugged.

  "If there's work, I'll go to this place. I'm out of money and I need to work."

  Willy interrupted him. "I don't know, Adam. I was hoping to see Vancouver and I'm not sure about living in a camp in the bush. I've got my savings. Let's keep going."

  Adam looked at Willy impatiently. "I need work. And if this guy says there's no work in Vancouver . . . No, I'm going to go to the other place." Adam turned back to the immigration guy. "How do I get to this other place?"

  "There's a train at the next platform, leaving in about ten minutes, same time that this one leaves for Vancouver. The town is called Prince George and you'll arrive at four tomorrow morning."

  Adam stood up and reached into the rack above his head for his suitcase and hat. Willy stayed sitting.

  "Are you coming?" Adam looked down at his friend and asked.

  Willy hesitated a moment more. "No. I don't want to go north and live in the bush. There's gotta be one job in all of Vancouver. It's the land of opportunity, remember?" Willy smiled as he quoted what Adam had said on the ship.

  Adam settled his hat onto his head and reached out his han
d. "All the best to you then. I'll look you up when I get to Vancouver in the spring – if I don't freeze to death over the winter."

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  November 1951

  Adam stepped down from the train tentatively. His Sunday shoes had seemed like the best choice when he left Germany nearly three weeks earlier, a fact that was by now almost comical. Crossing the icy ground precariously, he breathed a sigh of relief as the door of the small dark station building opened with a gentle pull. Inside, he stoked the little potbelly stove from the pile of wood beside it, relishing the surrealness of the situation, and sat down to wait.

  For whom or what he waited, Adam wasn't quite sure, but a little past nine, when it had been daylight for nearly an hour, the arrival of an immigration official with a translator in tow ended his wondering. The two men stamped the snow from their heavy winter boots before joining Adam beside the stove to warm their hands and introduce themselves. The fellow in Jasper had telephoned first thing, they explained, and they had a job lined up for him starting Monday. Adam beamed at the news.

  Down the street, they helped Adam check into The Europe Hotel where Immigration Canada had an account. He could pay it back later with the rest of what he owed for the trip. Next, they showed him where he could get a meal at the Mason Café, and where to find the unemployment office on Monday to catch his ride out to the sawmill.

  With nowhere to be for the next three days, Adam walked the streets of Prince George, peering into shop windows and studying the buildings, returning frequently to the hotel or stopping at the café to warm up. All weekend the snow fell. And each day the snowbanks grew several inches. Elek and Laudenbach had snow on the ground all winter, but not like this.

  ‘Cutlet' was the only word on the menu of the Mason Café that Adam recognized. The third time he ordered it, the waitress laughed and spoke to him in German. Her family had immigrated here before the war, so she knew all about living in Canada and happily answered Adam's questions. He'd seen police hauling people away from the dance hall across from the hotel late at night and didn't understand why. The reason, she explained, was that Canadians had a lot of rules about how much fun you are allowed to have in public places. Adam shook his head. Strange.