Of Windmills and War

by Diane Moody

  Anya raised her hand. “Wait a minute. Back up. Why are they transporting the Jews to Poland? Why would they move them out of the country?”

  “Not all of them are taken out of the country,” Bram answered. “Some are taken to labor camps not so far away—just down the road at Amersfoort or on the coast at Scheveningen. But the things we are hearing about these camps, especially the ones in Poland . . .” Bram closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It is urgent that we keep as many as we can from getting on those trains.”

  “How?” Anya asked, her voice thick with emotion. “How do we do that?”

  Bram folded his hands, his index fingers pointing at her. “Anya, we have to hide as many of them as we can. We have to transport them away from our cities and villages. But unlike the Germans, we can’t just round up large groups of them. No, we must take them a few at a time. A couple here, a child there . . . nothing so as to attract attention or arouse suspicion.”

  Anya sat up straighter, her resolve growing. “Let me help. Show me how. Teach me. I have to help my friend Lieke and her family as soon as possible. I must help them—take them far from here! How soon can I do this?”

  Bram looked at his wife, then his son, then back to Anya as a broad smile widened on his weathered face. “Anya, I’m glad you asked.”

  17

  Anya still couldn’t understand God’s silence in the Occupation of her country, but she thanked Him anyway for protecting her ride home that evening. How else could she have traveled that distance after curfew without encountering a single German? As she tiptoed into the house she asked God for a second favor—to be able to sneak in without disturbing her father.

  “Anya!”

  She cringed, recognizing the aggravated tone in her father’s voice. “Yes, Father?”

  “Where have you been? I’ve been out of my mind with worry!” By the time the sentence was out of his mouth, his hands were clamped tightly on her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Father! I should have—”

  His hands gripped tighter. “You should never have left without asking me!”

  “I know, but I—”

  “Anya, what if something had happened to you? What if the Germans had taken you away from me?! What if—”

  “But they didn’t! I’m here! I’m home, Father! I’m so sorry!”

  He held her at arm’s length, his face wild with anger. Then, in a split second he crumbled, gathering her into his arms. “Oh my little Anya! I was so frightened. I thought I’d lost you!” He wept quietly as she hugged him back. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Anya bit back her own tears, still vowing to keep her resolve even as her eyes burned. “I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered. “I should have told you.”

  Finally, he pulled back to look her in the eye, struggling to find his voice. “Helga told me you went to the Boormans. How could you disobey me? You knew I would worry, but more than that, you disobeyed me. How could you?”

  She pulled out of his grasp, avoiding his penetrating stare. “It was wrong. I know it was wrong. But I . . . I had to go, Father. I was so upset.”

  “Why? Why were you so upset?”

  She turned back to face him. “Because I cannot continue living my life as if nothing’s changed! Everything has changed! We’re at war. Our friends, our neighbors . . . they’re not just hiding behind closed doors. The Germans are rounding them up like so many cattle to be slaughtered! I cannot turn a blind eye to them anymore!”

  Her father wiped his face with a handkerchief, letting out a long sigh. “Anya, sit.”

  “What? I don’t want to sit.”

  “Sit! Do as I say.” He motioned toward the kitchen table.

  She dreaded the lecture, but knew she deserved it. She slowly took a seat as her father sat across from her. She kept her head bowed, unable to face him. His fingers tapped slowly on the table. She waited.

  “I am not blind, Anya. I know what is going on around us. Today I met with other ministers in our city. We talked. For many hours we talked. The things I heard, well, it all made me sick.”

  Anya looked up. “What?”

  “The atrocities against our Jewish friends and neighbors—unspeakable.”

  Had he heard the same things the Boormans had told her today?

  “All afternoon, one after another—such horrors against them, I cannot tell you. Then I come home only to find you gone? Dear Helga tried so hard to cover for you until I told her what those Nazi animals are capable of. She burst into tears, begging my forgiveness as she ran from the house. I could not leave your mother, and so I paced. And with each step I imagined another despicable act forced upon you by German monsters.”

  Anya looked away again, sickened that she’d caused her father so much pain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Father.”

  He blew his nose into his handkerchief.

  “It was wrong of me to burden Helga like that. I will apologize to her.”

  “It’s not just Helga. It’s not even me, Anya. It’s the danger you put yourself in! You said it yourself—everything has changed. We are at war. And we are smothered by these godless Germans who make a sport of torturing anyone in their way, Jew or non-Jew. When I told you not to leave the house except to go to school, it was for your own protection.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what am I to do with a sixteen-year-old daughter who disobeys me? How can I make her—make you understand the risk of wandering about alone when evil lurks all around us?”

  “That’s precisely why I had to go to the Boormans!”

  “Why? What could possibly be so important, you would risk your life to go there?”

  His question hung between them. What could she tell him? Hadn’t Bram warned her to keep her mouth shut, even to her father?

  “Well?”

  She dug deep inside for the courage to say what must be said. Bram was wrong. She could not take part in this movement behind her father’s back. She would not. Lowering her voice in case their guests might be listening, she began. “I went to ask for their help, Father. I’ve decided I’m not going back to school—”

  “That’s ridiculous. Of course you’ll go back to school. I won’t allow you to quit.”

  She clenched her teeth. “No, I will not. I cannot waste another moment when lives are at stake.”

  For a fleeting second, her father narrowed his eyes. Then just as fast, he blinked. “Go on.”

  Go on? She tried to read his expression but couldn’t. “I cannot sit in a class half-empty because all the Jews are gone. I cannot sit by and watch Lieke and her family dragged off to some death camp in Poland! I have to save them, Father. Don’t you see?” He said nothing so she continued. “The Boormans are like family to me now. I trust them. They too have guests, many more than we do. So I knew they would understand the urgency I feel in my veins. This calling in my heart to do something!”

  “And what is this you think you can do?”

  “I had no idea until I spoke to Bram and Ella and Wim.” She paused, still hesitant. Her father tilted his head just so, the way he always did when he listened with his heart. It was one of the things she loved about him. “They told me of many others.”

  “Others?”

  “People like me, like the Boormans, who are desperate to do what we can to help the Jews.”

  Again, something flickered in her father’s eyes along with the slightest hint of a smile. “And that would be?”

  “To hide them. As many as we can. And not just in our homes, but everywhere—to shuffle them here and there, put them in safe houses away from the hideous shadow of the swastika.”

  He sat back, folding his arms over his chest. “Anya, Anya. When did you grow up on me? Eh? One moment you were this little girl, covered in dirt, your wooden clogs always covered in mud, your braids flying in the wind as you climbed the wings of our windmill . . . and suddenly, the next moment I look across the table and see this beautiful young woman whose heart beats for her country, he
r friends. Such a remarkable change. But one, it seems, I had not noticed. How did this happen?”

  “It happened when we lost Hans.” She searched for the right words. “Nothing was ever the same after he died. Not me, not you, not Mother. We all changed. Then the Germans began to breathe down our necks. They stormed our borders and fell from the sky, destroying everything in their way. I believe they stole our innocence as well.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  She reached for his hand. “So you understand? You accept my decision?”

  He took a deep breath. “Yes and no. Yes, I understand why you’re so passionate. But no, I’m not sure how wise it is for one so young to walk such a dangerous tightrope.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Father, may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “This meeting of ministers you attended today. Is it possible some of these men of God are also organizing to help our friends? Could you and I both be stepping into the same organization?”

  He gazed at his hand over hers for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “It seems your mother and I raised a very smart girl.” He winked. “A very smart girl, indeed.”

  18

  “Anya, they won’t listen. I know my parents,” Lieke Grünfeld argued. “They think if we just do as we’re told, we’ll be treated fairly. Besides, the papers said it’s just until the war is over. We’ll be back in—”

  “The papers? The German papers?” Anya cried. “You believe the lies of the Nazis over the truth of your friends?”

  “Shhh! Mama will hear you!” she snapped. “She’s scared enough as it is.” Lieke lifted her young sister into the high chair. “There, little Inge. Eat your koekje like a good girl.” She broke the cookie in two and handed it to the child.

  “Lieke, you have to listen to me.” Anya followed her friend around the kitchen table. “There’s no time to argue. You must convince your parents to let us help them. To help you and your brothers and sisters.” She looked toward the door then lowered her voice just above a whisper. “There is a whole network of people who will take you and your family to a safe place. You can stay together.”

  “That’s only asking for trouble,” Lieke insisted. “Who knows what the Germans would do if they caught us all sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

  Anya held her tongue, afraid she might say something she regretted. She blew out a slow breath. “And if you stay, they will split you up, put you in cattle cars, and send all of you off in different directions where you’ll all be baked alive in ovens!”

  Lieke spun around and slapped Anya’s cheek. “How dare you! What an awful thing to say!”

  Anya touched her hand to her stinging cheek. “BECAUSE IT’S TRUE!”

  Inge wailed at the outburst, wailing at the top of her lungs.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” She lifted the child from her high chair.

  “Look what I’ve done? You’re the one who’s too stubborn to listen to truth!”

  “No, you’re the one who’s trying to get us all arrested. Honestly, Anya, how can you believe all that gossip? Father says the Resistance crusaders are the ones causing the most harm. He spoke to a member of the Gestapo the other day, and he promised we will all travel together. He said—”

  “Lieke! Listen to yourself! You might as well lie down on the railroad tracks and let them roll their trains right over you and your family.”

  “Get out, Anya.”

  “What? You can’t—”

  “I said GET OUT! You are no longer my friend. You and your ignorant friends will get all of us killed. So get out and don’t come back. I never want to see your face again!”

  Anya froze, too stunned to move.

  “GET. OUT!”

  She pulled in a long, rugged breath, staring in disbelief at the friend she’d known her whole life. The one friend who had always loved mischief as much as she did. The only friend she’d ever trusted. Anya wanted nothing more than to drag her from the house and force her into hiding, with or without her family. But even as she blinked back the wretched tears, she knew that would never happen. As a haunting groan took root inside her, she turned on her heel and ran.

  By the time Anya reached home, she was panting, angry, and so frustrated she could hardly think. Pausing to catch her breath before going inside, she rested on a bench under the tree in her front yard.

  “Hello, Anya.”

  She looked up to see Mr. van Oostra coming out of her house. Most likely he’d been to visit her father. She smiled but didn’t return his greeting.

  “What’s wrong, my dear? You look like you’ve lost your last friend.” He adjusted his spectacles, then donned a cap over the ring of gray on his head.

  She knew he couldn’t have known, but the question caught her off guard. “I fear that’s exactly what’s happened.”

  He took a seat on the bench beside her. “Really? My dear child, you’re much too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Would you like to tell me about it? Perhaps I could help?”

  Bram’s warning echoed through her mind, though she wasn’t remotely tempted to tell the church busybody anything, much less what had just happened. She stood up and walked toward the front porch steps. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Of course you will. Your father will see to that. Still, if you ever need to chat, I’m always happy to offer a listening ear.”

  And a big mouth. “Thank you. Goodbye.” She hurried up the steps and into her house. “Father, what did that windbag Mr.—”

  “Anya, you remember Mrs. van Oostra?” her father interrupted with a warning glare. “She and Mr. van Oostra just stopped by to invite us to a gathering tomorrow night at their home. A chance to get to know our new German friends one-on-one and perhaps find some way to get along.”

  Anya felt her mouth drop open.

  “What’s the matter, my dear? Mrs. van Oostra said. “Be careful lest you catch a fly,” she teased with a giggle.

  Anya snapped her mouth shut and glared back at her father.

  “Yes, well, so nice of you to drop by, Mrs. van Oostra. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.”

  “Good. Good! I’ll be on my way now to catch up with that husband of mine. Good day, Reverend Versteeg. Anya, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Once the door was closed Anya turned to her father. “What is wrong with you? How could you even consider going to such a meeting? I can’t believe you’d—”

  “Enough, Anya! What was I to do? If I declined, the van Oostras would most likely report me to their new Nazi friends. That would only lead to more scrutiny and perhaps another more thorough search of our home. Yes, I agreed to go to their stupid meeting, but I have no intention of going. God forgive me for the lie, but it seemed the wiser thing to do, all things considered.”

  Anya flopped down onto the sofa. “Thank goodness. I thought you’d lost your mind, Father.”

  He lifted his wire eyeglasses from his face and began cleaning them with a handkerchief. “Nevertheless, young lady, I will not tolerate such behavior as that which was displayed when you walked into this house. You have no way of knowing who might or might not be here, and I will not stand for such disrespect.”

  “But Father—”

  “No buts! Were it Hitler himself, I will not allow you to come in here calling him names or throwing your attitude around like some brat of a child. Do you understand?”

  “No, I do not understand. If Hitler were your guest, I’d rip off his ugly mustache and kick him in the shins. And if I had a gun, I’d blow his brains out without so much as a second thought!”

  “ANYA!” Her father shook visibly as he neared her, as though trying to calm a caged beast inside. “How can I make you understand how dangerous such words are now? You cannot continue to speak your mind so recklessly when all around us are ears listening for any excuse to take us into custody. You can�
�t tease about such things. You must not!”

  She planted her elbows on her knees, then dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t help myself, Father. It’s as if everyone around here has handed their brains over to our enemies. How on earth will we ever survive such madness?”

  She heard him blow out a heavy sigh, then felt him sit beside her. “You’re right, of course. I’m completely baffled by such actions. Still, we cannot for a single moment be careless or let an unguarded thought slip from our mouths.”

  She leaned back against the sofa. “Today I begged Lieke to let us help her family escape.”

  “No! Anya, what did you say?”

  “How could I not say something to her? But it did no good. She threw me out of her house, Father, and told me we could no longer be friends.”

  He put his arm over her shoulder and drew her close to his side. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it. Perhaps under the circumstances she only—”

  “No, Father, she meant it.” She put her hand to her cheek. “She slapped me and told me never to come there again.”

  He grew quiet. Anya wondered what he was thinking.

  “Father?”

  “You won’t want to hear this, but I must say it anyway. I ran into Lieke’s father earlier today. In our conversation, he assured me the Germans would take good care of them. I was careful in choosing my words when I responded. Still, he made it clear to me they intend to follow the edicts of the Germans and comply as instructed.”

  “But how can they be so blind?”

  “I haven’t a clue. And yet, even as we spoke, I realized the danger in trying to reason with him. Which is what I must insist you do as well. Anya, we can’t save them all. We can try. We can state our case, but in the end the decision is theirs.”

  She tried to make sense of it. “You’re telling me to give up on Lieke? To let her and her family go knowing full well we may never see them again?”

  He tucked her head under his chin. “I’m telling you we can only help those who want to be helped.”