Children of the Promise

by Dean Hughes

  Alex was stunned. He was only a private. How could he suddenly be made a sergeant? What about McCoy?

  When everyone else filed out of the hut, Alex walked up to Summers. The lieutenant told Alex, “I talked to some of the men. They told me you were the one who got them to the right spot last night. They said McCoy didn’t know what he was doing. Believe it or not, they told me you were the one who ought to be the squad leader.”

  “I’m good at maps, but that doesn’t mean I ought to take over the squad.”

  “I didn’t ask you what you wanted to do. I don’t have that luxury any longer. We’ve got a job ahead of us, and I can’t mess around. So are you going to lead these men or not?”

  “I will, but I’d rather not.”

  “Thomas . . .” He swore. “Listen to me. I need a man who won’t go to pieces when things get tough. And I know that’s you. But are you going to kill Germans or not?”

  Alex didn’t know. He had tried all during training to predict what he would be like when the firing started, and he just didn’t know. But that’s not what he said. “I’ll hold my own out there.”

  The lieutenant cursed again. “Why doesn’t that convince me? I know you can find your target, and I know you can set up an MG emplacement. But I have no idea whether you’ll kill anyone.”

  Alex didn’t answer.

  “God is not on Hitler’s side, Thomas. If you want to bring your religion into this thing, you better fight on the same side God’s on—and fight like everything good depends on it.”

  “That’s how I do feel, lieutenant. I agree with that.”

  “So what happens when you face your first German? Are you going to kill—or get yourself killed?”

  “Kill,” Alex said, and he felt the enormity of the word. For all these months he had continued to tell himself that somehow he wouldn’t have to face that decision. Maybe he would get pulled into Intelligence after all. But this was it, and now he had announced his decision.

  “All right. You’ll get your stripes. I never thought this would happen. A year ago, I thought some of those men would kill you before you got this far. But soldiers have a way of sensing who their leader is, and they all know it’s you.”

  Alex didn’t know what to say to that. And so he merely saluted and then walked to his barracks. When he entered the door, Duncan laughed. “Here comes our sarge,” he said. “Ain’t he nice looking? They ought to use him for a recruiting poster, not put him on the battlefield.”

  Duncan was just mouthing off, as usual; he didn’t sound upset about the promotion. But Alex still wondered what these guys really thought of him. “I didn’t ask for this,” he said. “Let’s just make the best of it. Let’s pull together.”

  This brought a huge laugh from Duncan and most of the other men around the barracks. “Golly gee, Deacon, you’d make a swell cheerleader,” Duncan said. “Maybe you could go into battle wearing a little skirt and carrying a megaphone.”

  Alex had the good sense to laugh. “Well, anyway, you know what I mean.”

  ***

  Bobbi walked from the burn ward and noticed that down the hallway a tall marine in his brown uniform was smiling at her. And then, suddenly, she realized it was Gene. She ran toward him, and he grabbed her up in his arms and hugged her, but he set her down rather quickly. Bobbi could see he was embarrassed by all the attention the two of them were getting.

  “I didn’t expect you yet,” Bobbi said, out of breath.

  “I know. We got here sooner than I thought we would.” He had written her a couple of weeks before and told her he was stopping in Honolulu—if all the rumors were right—and he would try to contact her if he got a chance.

  “When did you get in?”

  “A couple of hours ago. I was on my way to Tripler—the army hospital—before the cab driver told me I could have just walked over here in the first place.”

  “So how long will you be here?”

  “I don’t know. They don’t tell us much. I have to be back to the ship by 2200 tonight. But I don’t know whether I’ll get another chance to see you.”

  “Oh, dear. Let me see what I can do. Maybe I can get off early. Do you want to go swimming at Waikiki?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any trunks.”

  “We can get some.” She suddenly laughed. “You’re so handsome in your uniform. Look at those nurses staring at you.”

  Gene grinned, that familiar, boyish smile of his. And he turned a little red. “They’re just saying, ‘Bobbi must be an old lady to have such a big little brother.’”

  “You watch your tongue.” She hugged him again. “We could buy you a swimsuit over in town if you—”

  “Naw. Let’s just go see what it looks like. I don’t care if I swim or not.”

  “All right. Let me see what I can do to get out of here. Just wait here a minute.”

  Lieutenant Kallas was never pleased by disruptions, but she was in a decent mood today, and Bobbi told her the burn unit was in good shape, with fewer patients than usual. “Make your rounds again,” Lieutenant Kallas said, “and let someone know what’s going on so someone can cover, and then go ahead. Are you sure this kid is only going to be here a short time?”

  “Yes. He said this might be the only day he gets off the ship. He doesn’t know for sure.”

  Bobbi was already heading out the door. She hurried back to Gene, where a couple of nurse friends were talking to him. She told him he could wait in the front lobby and she would be ready in half an hour.

  “Hey, leave him here,” one of the nurses, a girl named Verna, said. “We like these younger boys. We can raise them up the way we want them.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll lead him astray. He’s a good boy.”

  Gene was grinning again, but then he turned and walked down the hall, taking long steps, like Richard’s.

  Bobbi didn’t finish quite as soon as she hoped, but in an hour she and Gene were on a bus, headed into Honolulu. “Do you know where you’re going when you leave here?” Bobbi asked him.

  “The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not heading straight into battle.” He rubbed the palm of his hand across his forehead. “It’s humid here,” he said.

  “Not any worse than Virginia, is it?”

  “I was there mostly in the winter.” But then he came back to the question. “We’re supposed to do some more amphibious training before we hit our first beach. Some of the guys think we’ll be on the big island of Hawaii—or maybe on Maui.”

  “Neither island is far at all.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll be close for a while then. But I don’t know whether I could get over here on a pass.”

  “Find out as soon as you can. If you could come for a weekend, I know a lot of people you could stay with. You could go to church with me.”

  “That’d be nice. I’ve only gotten to Mormon meetings a couple of times in the past year.”

  “You’ll find churches on the big island, or Maui. There are a lot of Mormons in the islands.”

  “That’s good.”

  Gene had never minded church as much as Wally, but still, Bobbi was impressed, maybe even a little surprised, at his desire to go.

  When the two got off the bus, they strolled down to the beach. There were actually very few people out on the sand, and most of them were probably military personnel on their days off. Tourism in Hawaii had almost come to a stop since the war had begun. All the ships were transporting soldiers, and Hawaii now meant Pearl Harbor—and war—to most people.

  Bobbi tried to lead Gene out onto the sand, but he protested that he would ruin the shine on his shoes and have to work on them before he could go back to his ship. So they walked on a boardwalk along the edge of the beach, and then they found some lawn to sit on, near the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. They looked out at the pretty breakers and the deep blue water.

  “No wonder people like to come here,” Gene said. “Ralph’s brother was on a mission over here, and he loved it.”

>   “That’s where you ought to be heading, not going off to war.”

  “Yup.” But he was quick to change the subject. “Mom wants me to ask you all about this Richard guy and give her a full report in my first letter.”

  “Are you kidding? The only thing I told her was that I had met a fellow from Springville and he was a nice man. I think I even told her he was mostly just a friend.”

  “Well . . . you know Mom. She thinks she can read between the lines, and she’s sure that he’s your new beau—to use her word.”

  “That’s just like Mom.”

  “Oh oh.”

  “What?”

  Gene laughed and then set his hand on Bobbi’s shoulder. “I notice you’re not denying a thing.”

  Bobbi knew she was blushing—she could feel it. “Oh, Gene, I’m in another one of my messes.”

  “Messes? Why?”

  “I’m really nuts over this guy, and he’s a navy officer. He’s out there somewhere, right in the middle of everything, and I hardly ever hear from him. It’s been five weeks since I got his last letter, and the worst part is, if something has happened to him, I don’t know how I would find out.”

  “He’s probably all right. Those navy boys just deliver us. We’re the ones who stick our leather necks out.”

  “Gene, don’t say that. It scares me so bad.”

  Gene pulled at his tight collar. He had filled out so much since Bobbi had seen him last. He looked like a man now, so changed from the way Bobbi remembered him.

  “It’s so awful to have all four of the guys I care most about in danger,” Bobbi said. “Wally’s situation must be awful, and I know Alex will be landing in Europe before much longer. Now you’re heading out there somewhere with Richard. I think I’d rather go myself than to wait and worry.”

  Gene smiled. “Take my uniform. I’ll stay here and do the worrying.”

  Bobbi laughed. “I wish you could get assigned here somehow, with a nice, safe office job.”

  “What I’ll be is a replacement. I’ll hook up with some unit that’s already taken a lot of casualties. I’ll be landing on some island in the next month or two, if everything goes the way they tell me it will.”

  “Tell me what you’re feeling about that, Gene.”

  “Well . . . I’m okay about it.” Gene leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, and he smiled. “You and Mom and Millie are the only ones who ask that. Guys never do. It’s best just to take what comes and not think too much about it.”

  “I’d be terrified if I had to land on an island—with people shooting at me.”

  Gene looked out toward the ocean again, and his smile faded. “I got to know this guy at boot camp,” he said. “He wasn’t religious at all. But one day he said to me, ‘I wish I believed in heaven. Then I wouldn’t be so scared.’ He was just kidding around, but it hit me—he was right. All my life I’ve been going to Sunday School and everything, but I think that was the first time I ever just said to myself, ‘Okay. I do believe in heaven. So everything will be all right—no matter what happens.’”

  “I know, Gene. I try to think of that too. But I don’t want to lose anyone yet. We’re all too young.”

  “I think about that too.”

  Bobbi slid closer, and she took hold of Gene’s arm. “You’re still this little kid to me, Gene. I can’t think of you any other way.”

  For a long time after that the two sat silent. Gene was obviously thinking about a lot of things he wasn’t saying. He had always been that way.

  “Somehow,” Bobbi finally said, “it all has to come out all right. I just have to believe in that, or it’s all so frightening.”

  “I’m sure it will,” Gene said. “So quit making me think about it. I thought we came down here to see some hula girls. Don’t they have any of those around here?”

  “No tourists—no hula girls.”

  “What a dirty deal. I came all this way, and no one will even dance a hula for me?”

  “I could give it a try, but I doubt you’d get much of a thrill out of it.”

  Gene laughed in that familiar chugging style of his, and for the first time, he really did seem the same old Gene.

  Chapter 21

  It was Easter time. It was also Passover. So Sister Stoltz bought horseradish to use for bitter herbs, and she and Hannah Rosenbaum baked unleavened bread for a Seder feast. The Rosenbaums had no copy of the ceremony, and it was dangerous—probably impossible—to find a copy anywhere, but David wrote out the words he could remember. “On all other nights of the year, we sit or recline, but on this, the holiest of all nights. . . .”

  They broke the unleavened bread, shared it among them, and Peter grimaced as he ate the bitter herbs. They didn’t dare leave their apartment door open, not when they were doing something so audacious, but they left a bedroom door ajar and left a place at their table for Elijah to arrive and take his seat. And finally, they ate a good meal. It wasn’t quite the feast it would have been in the Rosenbaum’s own home, or in their parents’ homes when they were growing up, but it was good food, and fitting, if not exactly kosher.

  The Stoltzes were actually a little ashamed they had so much to share. With three adults in the family working, they managed much better than many families. They had to pay high prices for food, but with little else to spend money on, they were able to do all right. More and more foods were rationed these days—or simply not available—so their diet was often little more than bread, potatoes, and milk, and a little cabbage when they could get it. But at least they had enough.

  Much of Berlin was now nothing more than heaps of debris. Tens of thousands had died, and hundreds of thousands had migrated from the city, but work crews continued to replace train tracks, clear rubble, restring electric and telephone lines, and, above all, keep defense plants going. That meant continued work for those who stayed. And then in March the Allies seemed to find other targets more important. Attacks persisted, but not as often and not with such huge armadas of airplanes. The Stoltzes and Rosenbaums were very aware of their blessing that their little corner of the city had survived, and that they were all right, warm, and eating well.

  A celebration feast was fitting for both families, but the Seder dinner was especially meaningful to the Rosenbaums. “Benjamin should learn our traditions,” Herbert told the Stoltzes. “But we have had no way, these past two years, to do anything like this.”

  “We know how you feel,” Anna told her. “We’ve not been able to go to our church for such a long, long time.”

  They had eaten their meal, and yet everyone was lingering at the table, where they had had to crowd together for all of them to have a place—and to leave a place for Elijah. Hannah was holding Benjamin on her lap. He was more docile than usual tonight, as though he sensed how important this dinner was to his parents. “I know that you had trouble with the Gestapo,” Herbert said, “and I understand it’s just as well that Hannah and I not know your past, but can you tell me this much? Why would you, as Christians, put yourselves in such danger for our sakes?”

  Brother Stoltz was tired of being careful. He said, “Others helped us when we were running from the Gestapo. In that sense, we are only returning the favor. But it’s also what religious people should do. I hope you don’t think that this evil being done to your people comes from Christianity.”

  “No, we understand. People who hate come from every background,” Herbert said. “We’ve heard you say that you are Mormons, but we know nothing of this religion. Can you tell us anything?”

  Brother Stoltz told the story of their conversion, and he explained the Restoration. Then he said, “The young missionaries who visited us, back in 1938, asked me one night what it was that Germans had against Jews. I was hesitant to answer, and so I asked them what the Mormon attitude toward Jews was. One of the young men answered promptly, ‘They’re our brothers and sisters.’ I was very surprised by that, but now I understand.”

  “What did he mean?” Hannah asked.
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  Brother Stoltz was about to answer, but before he could, Anna said, “We’re all brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of God, no matter who we are.”

  Brother Stoltz nodded, but then he said, “But there’s more to it than that. We believe that God has made special covenants with the children of Israel. When a person becomes a member of the Church of Jesus Christ, he or she takes on those covenants and is adopted into one of the twelve tribes of Israel.”

  “But most Christians blame Jews for Christ’s death,” Herbert said.

  “Very few of the people who lived at the time of Christ actually accepted him as the Messiah. And it was the Romans, not the Jews, who officiated over his death.”

  “But Hannah and I have not accepted him as the Messiah. Doesn’t that offend you?”

  “Not many people on this earth believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet. All we ask is respect and the right to believe as we choose. So why shouldn’t we accord the same respect to people who believe differently from us?”

  “Yes, of course. But so few seem to feel that way.”

  “Maybe more than you might suspect. But in this country, people are frightened. They see Jews disappearing, being mistreated, and in their hearts they know this is wrong. But they don’t dare do anything about it.”

  “Are there many in Berlin doing what you are doing? Helping Jews?” Herbert asked.

  “I help create false papers for people,” Brother Stoltz said, “and so I know something of what’s happening. There are dozens of people involved, working underground, trying to save lives—but we are doing little compared to what needs to be done.”

  Hannah held Benjamin close to her. “If the war continues for a long time,” she said, “I’m afraid all of us will be found.”

  Brother Stoltz nodded. He wanted to be honest and not make any false claims. “Perhaps. But in some ways, things might get easier. The bombing interferes with organized searches. If officials begin to see that Germany is losing the war, they may also concern themselves less and less with carrying out Hitler’s orders.” He hesitated. He didn’t want to frighten them more than he had to, but there were things they had to know. “I must tell you that we are still being sought. If the Gestapo should catch up with us, you could be caught in the same net.”