by Diane Moody
“Everything checks out. On your way, now,” the guard told Nathan in perfect German. Almost in disbelief, Anya had watched the send-off exchange including a barely imperceptible wink from the guard as they drove off.
She leaned back in her seat. “If I had not seen it for myself, I would not believe it.”
“You have to admit it gives you pride to know your fellow countrymen—and women—have far exceeded all our expectations when it comes to fighting our enemies.”
“I suppose,” she said, letting her eyes close as fatigue and momentary relief washed over her. “But many have paid the ultimate price as well.”
“Yes, that is true. But we never give up. I love what that English chap, Prime Minister Churchill said—‘Never give in! Never give in! Never, never, never, never!’”
With her eyes still closed, Anya mused at her driver’s rather perfect English accent and optimism. And with that thought, she fell sound asleep.
59
04 April 1945
After the third roadblock, Nathan pulled off the road to check on Danny, Charlie, and Morrison. They’d been cramped in the back of the truck beneath some smelly tarps and blankets for hours. As Charlie helped him down off the truck bed, Danny winced at the annoying pain in his ankle, aggravated even more by their long journey on foot to Utrecht.
“How’s the ankle?” Anya asked.
Danny hadn’t seen her standing on the other side of the truck. “Not worth discussing, I’m afraid. How are you holding up?” he asked, taking a seat on the tailgate.
“Not worth discussing.”
Her eyes held the hint of a smile even if her mouth didn’t.
“How much further to the coast?”
“Another ten kilometers,” Nathan answered, joining them. “About half an hour at the rate we’re going, but no more roadblocks.”
“How do you bypass the Atlantic Wall?” Charlie asked.
“What’s that?” Morrison asked.
“Hitler knew the entire western coastline was vulnerable to attack,” Anya began, “so he created the Atlantic Wall which is basically a system of fortifications that stretches the entire length of that coastline. From France, Belgium, our Netherlands—all the way up to the northern tip of Norway.”
Morrison seemed perplexed. “You mean there’s an actual wall all along those coastlines?”
“Not a literal wall,” Nathan answered, “but a series of fortifications. A good many of them are concrete pill boxes housing machine guns and anti-aircraft artillery. Some are right on the beach, others are more inland. Then there are the mines.” Nathan shook his head. “Those scare me more than anything.”
“We’ve lost three vessels to mines,” Anya added. “There must be thousands of them, and not just on the beach. The most dangerous are the ones off shore.”
“No disrespect, but isn’t there a safer way out of here without taking such a risk?” Charlie asked.
Nathan took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair before putting it back in place. “I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury, Lieutenant. In fact, we need to load up and get moving so we don’t miss our connection. Anya, make sure they’re covered then come along.”
Morrison climbed up in the truck bed. “So how can you be sure we don’t find one of those mines?”
“You just need to trust us,” Anya said as she started to help Charlie move Danny.
“Charlie, give me a second, will you?” Danny asked.
“No problem,” his friend answered.
Danny grabbed Anya’s hand. “Please tell me we’ll have time to talk before we get on that fishing boat?”
“I cannot make such a promise, Danny. It is very dangerous there.”
“I can’t just leave you like this, Anya. There’s still so much to be said.”
The truck rumbled to life. Anya looked up at him. “We need to get you covered.” She raised her voice and called out, “Charlie? We need to get you guys back under the tarps.”
Danny pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of it. “This isn’t goodbye.”
He could see the confusion in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than she pulled her hand free.
“C’mon, buddy, let’s get you hidden from the Krauts,” Charlie said.
Danny wanted to scream. He was sick to death of all the hide and seek. Sick to death of this despicable dance he and Anya were playing. And sick to death knowing that once he boarded that boat, he might never see her again.
The faintest whiff of salt air permeated their cover, causing the tension in Danny’s gut to tighten even more. It wouldn’t be long now. When the truck slowed then turned, he amended his thoughts, thinking they’d arrived sooner than he expected. But the vehicle continued, the road—if it was a road—rutted and bombed out, by the feel of it. With a squeal of brakes, it stopped.
They heard muffled voices, then the slow dropping of the tailgate.
“We arrived ahead of schedule, so we stop here to wait,” Nathan said, throwing the tarps off them. “Here we have cover. On the beach, we are most vulnerable.”
“Okay if we climb down and get some fresh air?” Morrison asked. “Those tarps really stink.”
“Yes, I know,” Nathan said with a broad smile. “Very nasty. But wait until you board De Roos.”
“De what?”
“De Roos. Your transportation across the North Sea. A fishing trawler called The Rose.”
“How much time do we have?” Danny asked as Charlie helped him to the tailgate again.
“Ten minutes. Not a second more,” Nathan answered after checking his watch.
“Then I’m going to ask a favor,” Danny said as he scooted to the edge of the tailgate. “I need to speak to Anya. Privately.”
She had just stepped into his line of vision as his request caught her by surprise. “What?”
“You heard me. Guys, if you’ll get lost for a few moments, I would really appreciate it.”
Their sheepish, knowing grins might have embarrassed him, but he had no time for formalities. That was the problem—he had no time! They shuffled away in the direction of the truck’s cab, leaving him alone with Anya.
“Would you mind?” He held his hand to the spot beside him, hoping she’d join him.
“Danny, what’s this all about?”
“Please, just have a seat.”
She hesitated. He could almost hear a ticking clock inside his mind, desperately aware of the moments he had left with her. Finally, she hopped up beside him. “What is it?”
He stared at her, mentally memorizing every feature of her face, the exact color of her hair, the shape of her eyes, and the mystery they held. He fought the pounding of his heart to say what must be said. “Anya, I can’t believe it’s come to this. I would give anything for it to be different, you know.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But we have no choice.”
“Well, it’s no secret how much I disagree with you on that particular subject, but I won’t spend the valuable moments we have left arguing about it.”
She turned to look at him and he saw the relief in her gaze. “Good. I couldn’t bear it if you kept after me. Not now.”
He reached for her hands, slipping the gloves off them, finger by finger. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you.” He held her hands in both of his. “And it doesn’t mean I’m giving up on us.”
He could see the rise and fall of her chest beneath her coat as conflict troubled her face. He reached for her chin and slowly turned her face toward him.
“Danny—”
“Anya, I love you. And I have loved you for such a long time. All those letters—sure, at first I just needed to keep a connection with you because I—well, I just couldn’t believe Hans was gone. But even if I never admitted it to myself, I knew it was more than that. I didn’t continue writing you letters just because of Hans. I grew to love every one you sent,
every word you wrote to me.
“All those years went by, and I never forgot you. I kept wondering if you’d survived, if you were all right. Then all these years later—in the middle of a war no less—I jumped out of my Fortress and landed in Holland. What are the chances of such a thing? And for some inexplicable reason, before I left home I grabbed that picture of you and your family and tucked it inside my wallet. Why did I do that when we hadn’t exchanged letters in years?
“Then, because I was rescued by members of the Dutch Resistance, your colleague found that picture and notified you. These are not coincidences, Anya. That night you came to the safe house cellar questioning me . . . when I realized it was you, all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and keep you there forever. I knew it then as I know it now—I love you, Anya. And I’ve never been so sure about anything in my entire life than the simple fact that I love you.”
She lowered her eyes and shook her head as if trying to dismiss such a thought. She tried to speak and couldn’t.
He wrapped her in his arms. “I’ve been such an idiot. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and here I’ve waited until the last possible moment.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “And the thing is . . . well, I may be blind about some things, but I’m pretty sure you love me too.” He couldn’t have stopped the wide smile on his face if he’d tried. Then, without a moment’s hesitation he leaned down and touched her lips with his. He hadn’t thought beyond this moment, but he knew there was no turning back now. He kissed her once, then kissed her again.
At first she held back. He knew she was warring with her emotions again. Why did she always do that? Was it merely instinct? Or was it the same barrier she’d tried so hard to hold up between them? Then he felt her begin to relax in his arms and return his kisses. Her tears dampened his face and she clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist. Oh, to be anywhere but here—in the back of a dirty truck in the middle of a country still occupied by Germans, within easy earshot of three others.
She slowed her kiss then looked up at him. “I’ve been so afraid, so scared of my feelings for you.” She wiped at her cheeks. “I knew I couldn’t bear it if I lost you, but I knew I would. Of course this day would come when I’d have to watch you go. I knew it from the beginning. And it just all feels like some cruel joke.”
He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “But it isn’t a cruel joke. It’s real. This isn’t goodbye, Anya. Even if you won’t come with me, it isn’t goodbye. I will come back for you—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you understand? We have no assurances, no certainties. We live from one moment to the next and nothing more.”
He put his finger to her lips. “That’s the talk of someone exhausted from a long war. That’s all it is. And we both know the war is about to end. All around us the Allies are liberating one town after the next. It will all be over soon, and I will come back for you.”
“How? Will you just hop in one of your planes and fly over to get me?”
“Maybe? Who’s to say? It doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes, I will come back for you. Just tell me where I can find you. Where would you go if the war ended this very day?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re such an optimist. As if everything always goes the way you want it.”
“We have to believe, Anya. We have to find hope, even when it seems hopeless. How else would we have survived this long? Any of us?”
She grew quiet and he prayed she was considering all he’d said. He had no idea how he’d get back here or how he’d find her. But there wasn’t a trace of doubt that he would.
“I’m just so tired. I can’t think straight anymore. I wouldn’t begin to know how to believe or hope about tomorrow when we have no guarantees for today.”
“Then I’ll believe for you. I’ll hold on even if you can’t. We were meant to be together, Anya. It’s so obvious. After all these years, we were meant to be.”
He kissed her again, first on her forehead, then on the tip of her nose, then on her trembling lips. She murmured something, pulling her arms free and cupping his face in her hands. “I love you, too, Danny,” she whispered through her tears. “I’ve just been too much of a coward to admit it.”
He held her hands between his. “I had a feeling that was the problem, but I’m sure glad to hear you say it. And all I’ve got to say is—it’s about time.”
“Lieutenant, it’s time,” Nathan said after clearing his throat.
“All right. Thanks,” Danny answered. He looked back at her as she swiped another tear from her face. “Tell me where I’ll find you when I come back. Where will you be?”
“How can I possibly know that?”
He placed his fingers against her lips again. “Shh. Think for me, Anya. If this all ended tomorrow, where would you go?”
Pressing her lips together, she looked away for a moment. With a ragged breath, she looked back into his eyes. “I would go home. I just want to go home.” Her face crumbled and she wept openly. “I just want to go home,” she whispered through her tears.
He leaned his head against hers. “Then one day soon, I shall knock on your door in Utrecht and hope I’ll find you there.”
He kissed her once more, sealing his promise.
Part V
60
29 April 1945
Framlingham, England
“Come on, Danny. You need a change of scenery. It’ll do you good to get off base for a while.”
He knew Charlie was right. After three weeks back at the 390th, Danny was about to lose his mind. He’d spent the first week and a half in sick quarters staying off his foot as much as possible. But all that lying around only amplified the frustration knotting up inside him. He couldn’t get Anya off his mind.
He’d busied himself, first making sure his parents were notified he was no longer MIA, then wrote them a long letter. He wondered what they’d been told and when they’d heard the news. After all they went through worrying about Joey when Pearl Harbor was attacked, he hated to think they’d experienced those fears all over again. Did they fear receiving another telegram? Were they afraid the blue star in the front window would have to be exchanged for a gold one?
The day after he got back, Sally had stopped by to see him in sick quarters. He was surprised how happy he was to see her even though she’d actually come to say goodbye. Her papers had finally come through and she was going home. They visited for almost an hour as Danny told her about his detour through Holland and finding Anya. She promised to pray he’d find a way to go back for Anya once the war was over. They exchanged their home addresses, promising to keep in touch after the war. She hugged him and wished him well, then she was gone.
“Hello in there?” Charlie teased. “Anybody home?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Charlie dragged him outside and over to the Jeep. “Come on, hop in. I’m headed to Quincy’s. Sophie said she’d make us some shepherd pie. If I can’t convince you to get out of here for a while, maybe Sophie’s cooking will.”
“All right, all right. Enough of the begging. I’ll go.”
With only a slight limp now, he made his way to the battered vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat. It was another gray and foggy English day, but he didn’t care. The weather matched his mood. The fresh air and breezy short drive into Framlingham awakened his senses if not his spirits. Charlie was right. If nothing else, the change of scenery woke him out of his aggravating doldrums.
When they’d first arrived back on base, everything felt off-kilter. It was bad enough being confined to sick quarters, but even there he picked up on the restlessness among the men of the 390th. The war would soon be over, and they were all anxious to get back home. Every conversation seemed focused on who would do what or where they’d go once they got home—topics that didn’t resonate with Danny. His mind and heart were still back in Holland.
Then on April 12, they received word of President Roosevelt’s
passing at “The Little White House” in Warm Springs, Georgia. News reports indicated that Roosevelt had complained of a terrific pain in the back of his head then immediately slumped over in a coma. He was carried into his bedroom where he died a short time later at 3:35 p.m. His attending cardiologist diagnosed his death as a result of a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Roosevelt had been president for twelve years, and his sudden death was a shock around the world—especially to those still fighting the war. Now they had a new Commander-in-Chief. Vice-President Harry Truman was immediately sworn into office as the 33rd president of the United States.
On that same day, the largest Nazi concentration camp was liberated by the 6th Armored Division of the Third Army. Reports about the atrocities of those imprisoned at Buchenwald spread like wildfire, increasing the urgency of the Allies to free other prisons like it. Millions had died.
Still, the job the Allies had come to do wasn’t finished. The bombing raids had continued through the previous week until April 20, when the 390th —on its 300th mission—led the entire Eighth Air Force in finishing off targets in southern Germany. With the Luftwaffe annihilated, the Allies stood down in their strategic missions, now attempting the final blow to the Nazi regime.
For months, the Allied commanders had wrestled over the rumored “National Redoubt”—a final stand by Hitler and his Wehrmacht, supposedly based in the rugged mountainous terrain in Bavaria and Austria. With the Allies and Soviets both racing to capture Berlin, it was believed that the dictator and what was left of his army would hide out in the Alps then reclaim a new Germany headquartered there. With railways busily transporting goods to be stockpiled in those areas, the obvious solution was to bomb those rails and cut them off.