Amanda felt her stomach sink. She remembered reading about GAFF in a college history class. It was a prominent Nazi front organization.
"So Karl is coming to Washington?" Amanda asked.
"He'll be there next week. He's leaving New York on Friday and bringing a friend," Kurt said. "I'll understand if you decide to cancel your trip."
Amanda sighed.
"No. I'll go. I want to go," Amanda said. "Whether my family will still want to go is a whole other matter."
CHAPTER 46: ELIZABETH
Washington, D.C. – Friday, March 31, 1939
Elizabeth walked slowly along the long south wall of the Georgetown row house and gazed at photographs that repulsed, intrigued, and inspired. If photos were a reflection of a family's values and priorities, the Schmidt clan was a complicated lot.
The repulsive shots were easy to find. Pictures of German military units on parade took up much of the right side of the gallery and hung next to images of the 1936 Summer Olympics, the shiny facade behind which Nazi Germany so recently tried to hide.
The intriguing photos included images of Heinrich Schmidt posing with celebrities like German President Paul von Hindenburg, U.S. President Calvin Coolidge, Charles Lindbergh, and Babe Ruth. They did not include images of Schmidt standing next to members of the Nazi party.
The inspiring photos celebrated nature and included shots of the Alps, the Danube, and what looked like the coast of Maine. Pictures of European settings outnumbered pictures of American settings two to one.
"Do you see anything you like?"
Elizabeth turned around and saw Johanna Schmidt enter the lavish living room, which took up half of the residence's first floor. She smiled politely when the matron of the house, a pretty, fair-haired woman of fifty, joined her in front of a photo of an alpine meadow.
"I like this one," Elizabeth said. "It reminds me of a movie I saw once, a musical with singing and dancing, a musical set in Austria."
"I'm not surprised," Johanna said with a faint German accent. "That photo was taken near Austria, in the Bavarian Alps, near the town of Kempten. Heinrich took our family there the summer we came to the United States. He wanted the boys to remember the best about their native land before they adopted a new one."
"Have they?" Elizabeth asked. "Have they adopted this country as their own?"
"They have to a certain degree," Johanna replied. "We all have."
Elizabeth wondered about that. She didn't doubt that Johanna and Kurt had developed an affinity for the U.S. She could see their happy American memories plastered all over the wall. She wasn't as sure about Heinrich Schmidt, who kept his views and his loyalties to himself, or the mystery son who had just arrived from Germany.
Elizabeth stepped away from the photo of the meadow and moved toward one of the Schmidt family in New York. She was immediately drawn to the twin boys, who stood between their parents in front of the Statue of Liberty. One of the boys smiled. The other did not. Elizabeth didn't have to guess who was who.
"What was it like raising twins?" Elizabeth asked. "I imagine you have many stories."
Johanna smiled.
"I have more than I could possibly share."
"Tell me one."
"All right. I will," Johanna said. She paused for a moment. "One of my favorites is not that old. Five years ago, when the boys were high school seniors, Kurt began tutoring a freshman girl in German. He tutored her once a week in the fall and the winter and had planned to help her through the spring, but he stopped when he turned out for track."
"Let me guess," Elizabeth said. "The girl needed more help."
Johanna nodded.
"She needed a lot more help. She had just begun to master the basics of the language when Kurt decided to focus on other things."
"Did Kurt tell her why he had to stop?"
"No," Johanna said. "He had planned to. He had planned to go over to her house and tell her in person until Karl offered to take his place and continue the tutoring."
"That was nice."
"There's more. When Karl went to the girl's house, he did not identify himself as Karl. He pretended to be Kurt. The girl knew the difference, of course, but her parents did not. Karl asked the girl to keep the secret to herself and continued the lessons as if Kurt had never stopped."
"I'm not sure I see where this is going," Elizabeth said.
Johanna looked closely at her guest.
"Karl knew his brother needed prestigious references to get into the college of his choice and wanted to make sure that Kurt got full credit for tutoring the girl, the daughter of the Spanish ambassador. So he made it appear as though Kurt had tutored the girl for the entire year."
"I take it that Kurt got into his college."
"He did," Johanna said. "The ambassador wrote Kurt a letter of reference that we believe made a difference."
"What about Karl?" Elizabeth asked. "Did he get credit for anything?"
"No. He didn't ask for it either. He didn't think he needed the same kind of references to get into the college of his choice."
"I'm guessing he did."
"He did," Johanna said. "When the number of colleges to turn him down reached five, he decided to continue his education in Germany."
"Why are you telling me this?" Elizabeth asked.
Johanna frowned.
"I'm telling you this because I know you've already formed opinions about my family and particularly the son you have not met," Johanna said. "I don't expect you to agree with Karl's choices or the views he may express while you are here, but I do want you to know that he was once a young man worthy of even a critic's admiration."
Elizabeth smiled.
"My daughter was right about you."
"How is that?" Johanna asked.
"She said you were very supportive of your sons. She could tell what kind of woman you were simply by speaking to you on the telephone."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Johanna said.
"You should," Elizabeth said. She looked at Johanna with kind eyes. "I'm sure we have many differences, Mrs. Schmidt, irreconcilable differences, but I'm comforted to know that we have at least one thing in common."
"What's that?"
"We are women who care about our families. That may not seem like much now, but it's something. It's something I can hold onto this weekend."
"I'm happy to hear that," Johanna said.
She started to say something more but stopped when the sounds of car doors shutting and men talking reached the living room. She put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.
"It sounds like the men have returned," Johanna said. "We should prepare for dinner."
CHAPTER 47: AMANDA
Amanda stared at the men and laughed at her luck. Thanks to a series of unfortunate circumstances, she had the pleasure of dining with two Hitler Youths instead of one.
She had expected Nazi blather from Karl Schmidt and, in fact, had mentally prepared for it all week. She had not expected the same from Max Becker, a native New Yorker who had been described only as Karl's new American friend.
Amanda pondered her lot for another moment and then returned to her meal. She and Kurt sat between Elizabeth and Susan on one side of a long mahogany table. Karl and Max sat between Heinrich and Johanna Schmidt on the other.
The diners ate in peace for twenty minutes and discussed nothing more controversial than the weather, the blossom festival, and the Washington Senators. That changed when Max, a svelte man of twenty-five, decided to inquire about one of his fellow guests.
"Miss Peterson, I'm told you have a keen interest in history, politics, and international affairs," Max said. "Is that true?"
"It's true," Amanda replied.
"I see. Do you plan to pursue a career in one of those fields?"
"I do."
"Which one?" Max asked.
"I haven't decided yet."
"Have you given any thought to working for an organization that educates the public in areas such as
international or cultural relations?"
"I have," Amanda said. "Why do you ask?"
"I ask because I know there are many opportunities in these organizations for bright, educated, and principled women like yourself."
Amanda stared warily at Max.
"I suppose you have such an organization in mind."
"As a matter of fact, I do. I know of several current openings at GAFF," Max said. "That's the German American Friendship Federation."
"I know what it is," Amanda said.
"I thought you might."
"Tell me, Mr. Becker, what exactly do you and others do at the German American Friendship Federation?"
Max smiled.
"We do many things," Max said. "We promote better relations between the two countries, address misconceptions about Germany, and educate the American public on a variety of issues."
"I see. Do you think Americans need to be educated about why Germany annexed Austria last year or forcefully occupied Czechoslovakia just two weeks ago?"
Amanda glanced at Heinrich, Johanna, and Karl and saw differing reactions to the polite barbs. Heinrich maintained his familiar stoicism, Johanna grimaced, and Karl smiled. He seemed a little too eager to please his fellow fly in the ointment.
"I see you do not care for the policies of the Third Reich," Max said.
"You're right," Amanda replied. "I don't. I don't care for them at all."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"I'd be happy to, Mr. Becker. I take great issue with what Germany is doing not only to its neighbors but also to its own people. I think what Hitler and his supporters did to the Jews last fall was appalling."
"Do you know all the details behind that unfortunate series of events?"
"I know enough," Amanda said. "I know that even now, four months later, Jews continue to be treated like third-class citizens. That is inexcusable and unprecedented."
"Unprecedented?" Karl asked.
"Yes," Amanda said.
Karl laughed.
"We're sitting in the most segregated city in the world, the capital of a nation that has persecuted ten percent of its population for centuries," Karl said. "Can you honestly say that what's going on in Germany today is worse or different than what's going on in the South? Can you say that America has treated its blacks, Jews, and indigenous peoples any better?"
Amanda winced. She knew that the comparisons were not fair, but she also knew she could never win an argument over human rights records when the U.S. was still enforcing Jim Crow laws and was just three years away from interning its Japanese citizens.
She knew as well that it was pointless and even dangerous to suggest that Germany's treatment of Europe's Jews was about to go from appalling to evil. She may have had knowledge of places like Auschwitz, Buchenwald, and Dachau, but the rest of the world, at least in early 1939, did not. She felt angry, frustrated, and helpless.
"I don't believe the situations are comparable, but even if they were that would not excuse what Germany is doing to its neighbors," Amanda said. "It has become a bully among nations."
"What would you have Germany do?" Max asked. "The nation is constantly pestered by meddlers and troublemakers who wish to undermine its interests."
Amanda looked at Susan, saw a frown, and decided to behave. Then she looked at Elizabeth, saw a smile, and decided to press on. She simply could not let Max's nonsense stand.
"Who are these 'meddlers' and 'troublemakers,' Mr. Becker? The British? Americans? Jews? I don't see troublemakers from where I stand," Amanda said. "I see people who want to keep Nazi Germany from acting on its worst impulses."
"You have strong opinions about Germany," Max said. "I'm curious as to how you arrived at them. Have you ever been to Germany? Have you been there recently?"
Amanda sighed.
"No. I have not."
"I see. So you really don't know what you're talking about."
"That's not true," Amanda said. "I do know what I'm talking about. I know because I read. I read articles by people who have been to Germany and other places in Europe where the Nazis are creating chaos and mischief."
"Are you referring to the Sudetenland?" Max asked.
"Of course I am. Germany has no more right to meddle in Czechoslovakia than it does in Austria or Poland or Lithuania or anywhere else."
"So you believe a nation should not assert control over areas it considers its own?"
"Yes!"
Amanda realized her mistake the second she saw Max grin. He smiled like a cat that had just cornered a mouse, a mouse that suddenly found herself in over her head.
"I take it then that you oppose America's annexation of Hawaii and the Southwest," Max said. "I assume that you oppose its occupation of Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines and its outright theft of this entire continent from the Indians."
"That's not the same thing," Amanda said.
"It's not?"
"No."
"I think it is," Max said. "I think it's exactly the same thing, except that Germany has restricted its 'meddling' to its own backyard."
Amanda saw an opportunity and seized it.
"Really?" Amanda asked. "Does Germany's backyard extend to Spain?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Amanda said. "Germany has actively supported the Nationalists since the beginning. It has provided Franco with soldiers, tanks, and planes and done so at the expense of a growing democracy."
"You overstate Germany's influence, Miss Peterson."
"I don't think so," Amanda said. She sighed. "Not that it matters. Madrid has fallen. The Republicans have surrendered. The war is over."
Amanda sank in her chair when seven people looked at her. She knew even before Elizabeth put a hand on her knee that she had stepped in it again.
She had assumed that it was April 1 – the day Francisco Franco had claimed victory over government forces in the Spanish Civil War. When she remembered that it was March 31 and that Franco had not yet spoken to the world, she braced for the worst.
"I've heard no word of a surrender," Max said. He turned to Heinrich. "Have you?"
The colonel shook his head.
"I've heard nothing either," Heinrich said. He looked at Amanda. "Where did you hear this news?"
Amanda took a breath. She had just seconds to dig herself out of a hole and move the conversation in a less dangerous direction.
"I heard something on the radio just before dinner, Colonel," Amanda said. "I can't remember the station, but I definitely heard it. The Republicans have surrendered."
Amanda put on a brave face as Heinrich Schmidt, Karl Schmidt, and Max Becker looked at her with skepticism, suspicion, and contempt, respectively. She didn't think any of the men would investigate her claim in a serious way, but she didn't really know.
All Amanda Peterson knew was that she had put herself and her family at risk. She vowed to do better. She didn't have a choice.
CHAPTER 48: AMANDA
Sunday, April 2, 1939
Amanda swept the landscape with her eyes and beheld a sight she would never forget. No matter where she looked, she saw green grass, blue sky, and an arresting riot of pink. Spring had come to the nation's capital and had announced itself with a shout.
She gazed at the far reaches of the Tidal Basin, a reservoir between the Potomac River and the Washington Channel, and then slowly returned her attention to the man at her side. She could see that he was enjoying the moment as much as she was.
"I must admit I'm envious," Amanda said. "Chicago has nothing on this. I don't think any city has something on this."
"I take it you like cherry blossoms," Kurt said.
"I like heavenly scenes, and this, Mr. Schmidt, is heavenly."
Amanda leaned into Kurt's side as they sat on a small wooden bench. Despite the presence of thousands of people, who had come to D.C. from all over the nation to see the changing of the seasons, she felt like they had
the place to themselves.
"I assume it's more heavenly than a dinner at my house," Kurt said.
"You assume correctly."
Kurt smiled.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. You defended your principles Friday night. You raised points that needed to be raised," Kurt said. "I admire that."
"Does anyone else though? Your parents haven't said more than a few words to me in the past two days. I suspect they weren't too thrilled with my theatrics."
"My father is a German diplomat, Amanda. You can't expect him or my mother to openly rush to your defense when you criticize their country in their own home."
"I suppose not," Amanda said. "I'm still not sure they like me."
"They do," Kurt said. "I know that for a fact."
"They told you this?"
Kurt nodded.
"They each said something yesterday."
"What did they say?" Amanda asked.
"Let's see. They said you're a beautiful, charming, intelligent woman that I should cherish, nurture, and hold on to if it's the last thing I do."
"They didn't say that."
"No," Kurt said. He laughed. "They didn't. I did."
Amanda smiled.
"You're terrible!"
Kurt sighed.
"No. I'm a man who's very fond of you."
Amanda burrowed further into Kurt's side.
"So did your parents say anything about me?"
"They did. They said they like you and want to see more of you. They asked me to invite you back to Washington for another visit this summer."
"I'm sure your brother will love that," Amanda said.
"Karl won't be here," Kurt replied. "He'll be in New York stirring up trouble."
Amanda lifted her head, gazed again at the sea of pink, and mentally revisited her contentious first meeting with Karl Schmidt. She could not believe that the strident Nazi and the man she adored had come from the same womb.
"What's the deal with him, anyway?" Amanda asked. "I'm serious. What does he see in those nasty bigots? I don't get it."
Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2) Page 23