The California Immigrant
Page 12
“We’ll you have aged a bit yourself but not as much as me. Men who lose their hair always look older than they are.”
“I’m a family man now so that responsibility and worry has put on the years.”
“Vlad told me you got married. I’m happy for you.” They both took a moment of silence thinking about Nevenka, but neither one wanted to bring up her name and the old wounds that would open.
“Where are you headed?” Martin asked.
“To Boston. Then from there the Mediterranean, I hope.”
“What a coincidence. That’s my plan as well. Maybe the ship will pull into the port of Dubrovnik and I can see my family again.”
“Or into Korcula where I can see mine.”
“What do you mean? Your whole family is in San Francisco.”
“Not everyone. I still have aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents in Korcula. At one time we were all very close.”
“And do you have your own family as well in San Francisco?”
“Yes, of course, that is life’s plan. I married a Croatian girl I met at the Slavonic Society and we have three children—two boys and a girl who is a dead ringer for Nevenka.” After he said that, Stan realized it might upset Martin so he gave him a quick glance and caught his eyes opening wide in astonishment.
“Praise God. The circle of life continues even after death has intervened. I’d like to meet her and your entire family sometime.”
“After this war is over, you certainly will and our friendship will never be broken again.”
Darkness began to envelop the train, and Martin realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He opened his knapsack and pulled out the rations Lena had packed for him. Thank goodness there’s no hard tack among them. Instead, there was a prosciutto and cheese sandwich on French bread, not quite fresh but not yet stale. When he sank his teeth into it and tore off a hunk, the flavors filled him with a taste of home. He looked over at Stan who also pulled food out of his knapsack. Instead of a sandwich, Stan had a slab of ham and cheese with pickles and potato salad on the side. “What a feast we’re having,” Martin said.
Stan’s mouth was full so he only nodded until he swallowed. “So, I hear you finally got your restaurant.”
“Yes, a little diner near downtown and a grocery store as well. Life is finally being good to me. And you, what work are you doing?”
“Like you, I’m a chef. Anton taught me well…so well, in fact, that I work in the Fairmont Hotel kitchen.”
“Now I’m impressed and it’s a bit of a coincidence, too. That’s where I proposed to Lena in 1909 when we came for the celebration.”
“No kidding. In my hotel.”
“Not only your hotel but your restaurant. Maybe you brought me luck because she said yes.”
Chapter 30
The time passed quickly as the train roared across the plains, over the Mississippi River and into the Eastern states. When Martin and Stan heard the conductor call out “Boston next stop” it almost caught them unawares. As the train pulled into Boston South station, they gathered up their luggage and debarked, catching a transport to the Boston Navy Yard. Martin had not expected such humid weather but the breeze off the harbor helped to cool the air a bit. Once he and Stan had checked in, Martin said, “I want to walk around the city awhile and see a couple of sights. My cousin Marko said to be sure to check out Harvard University’s campus as well as the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, both the best in the world.”
“That would be an experience,” said Stan. “I’ve never been on a college campus.”
“If it weren’t for Marko’s graduation from Stanford, I never would have been on one either. Stanford is built in a western style so it will be good to see a couple in an eastern style.”
“I’ve heard this is the city where the American Revolution took place and that there are many historic sites.”
“Of course, I learned about the American Revolution during my citizenship classes but I don’t remember much about it.”
“Don’t you know that the Americans were fighting for their independence from England…for freedom from oppression.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s not taught in schools back home. The authorities don’t want us to get any ideas.”
“But now that we’re here, ideas are nothing to be afraid of.”
It was not long until they came to Harvard Square where the university was located. They noticed students coming and going to class, carrying books, discussing what they learned. “If only we had had such an opportunity,” said Martin, “we’d be on top of the world.”
“We’re not doing so badly. Now that we’ve seen what’s out there, it’s for the next generation to accomplish it.”
“That’s right. It was enough for us to just get here and find a way to make a living. We can’t do everything in one lifetime.”
By the time the pair returned to the Navy Yard, it was time for supper in the mess hall. Most of the tables were already filled by the time Martin and Stan had gone through the food line, but they managed to find a couple chairs when some men had gotten up to leave. Martin looked down at his tray full of food and smiled. “I guess the navy is going to feed us well.”
“If this is their standard, we’ll do all right.”
“I’ve heard cod is very plentiful around here. Of course, we have it every year for Christmas Eve to remember how much power there is in humility.”
“Dip your spoon into this clam chowder. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“It’s so rich and creamy but also has the strong taste of clams. We could learn something about cooking seafood here.”
After that comment there was no more talking as they focused on eating and enjoying their meal…one of the last they’d have on land for quite a while.
The next morning, Martin and Stan got their ship assignment, the USS Lydonia, a private yacht that had been acquired by the navy, 180 feet long, equipped with four three-inch guns and two machines guns. That afternoon they sailed out of Boston Harbor toward the Caribbean where they would meet her. From there, it was on to the Mediterranean to their base in Gibraltar, a strategic British territory, which controlled passage in and out of the Mediterranean. The crew would be escorting convoys and supplies to their allies. They were also supposed to be on the lookout for German U-boats, but an encounter was deemed unlikely.
The Allies had the Adriatic blockaded as well as Constantinople, which gave their ships nearly conflict-free passage in the Mediterranean. U-boats, though, could slip under the blockade and still pose a threat. When Martin and Stan heard about the blockade, they both let out sighs. They knew their hopes of seeing family again had been squashed.
When the sun finally rose over the Mediterranean, both Martin and Stan cheered. The full-blooded American sailors just looked at them, not understanding their enthusiasm until Martin said, “It smells like home…the clean, salty, slightly fishy smell that I love.” Stan let out another yell in agreement. They were both on home turf now where they felt so alive, pulses beating quickly, blood rushing through their veins.
The Lydonia pulled into port at Gibraltar where they would have a day’s rest before taking on their assignment. When Martin and Stan got off the boat, they found themselves surrounded by monkeys looking for a handout. Not knowing what to do or if the animals posed any danger, they just stood still until someone shouted, “Don’t feed them. Just move on.” Still it was hard to do, since there were so many in every direction, even hanging over the path from tree branches. This was definitely not something that was covered in training, Martin mused. As they continued along the road into town, they noticed a body of land across the strait. “Africa,” they heard someone say. They turned to give each other looks. They had not known how close they would be to the African continent, but the strait was a mere eight miles wide at this point. This was truly another world.
The next day Martin and Stan boarded the USS Lydonia to begin their mission. The ship had
already been loaded with supplies bound for Italy and France. The days were long and monotonous. but Martin thrived on life at sea. With Stan it was a different story. While he had grown up on the Adriatic, he had not spent as much time on a boat, so his bunk often provided a retreat from seasickness.
Soon it was the end of the year and holiday time. They had a chance to celebrate with their crew and others as they feasted on local delicacies and sang carols into the night. But then it was back to the work a day grind.
By 1918, it seemed there were so many battles and wars going on it was difficult to keep track. Once in a while they would get reports of the action and were especially concerned to learn there was a revolution going on in Russia. “I wonder what that will mean to our families in the old country?” asked Stan.
“I don’t know but it could set off the Serbs and that would be bad for the rest of the Balkans.”
In February, the Lydonia shot at two German U-boats but missed. “It’s too bad we were in the stern when we finally got some action,” Stan said. And Martin agreed. They were getting a bit bored just shuttling back and forth with supplies and wanted to experience the thrill of war. Even though they were family men, they were still young and had that need to prove themselves. On May 8, they got their chance. This time Martin and Stan were on the bridge where they could be part of the action when a German submarine sank a merchant ship they were escorting. The Lydonia teamed up with a British destroyer opening fire. Before they could confirm the hit, they had to return to the merchant ship’s location to rescue survivors. But later they learned they had been successful.
“While I’m glad we saw some action, I don’t know if I’m up for this on a regular basis,” said Stan.
“Let’s just pray this war will end soon so we don’t have another day like this one. Once was enough for me to get the taste of war, and I have to say it left a bad flavor in my mouth.”
In mid-July when Martin returned to Gibraltar after another mission, he encountered British sailors toasting the RMS Carpathia in a local bar. He said to one of them, “I thought enough time had passed since the Titanic rescue. Why are you still raising your glasses to the ship?”
The sailor gave him a sad look. “I guess you haven’t heard, a German U-boat sunk it off the coast of Ireland. It took three torpedoes to bring it down. Fortunately, most of the crew survived.”
“The Carpathia was the ship that brought me to America.”
“Well, that Cunard ship has had quite an impressive history from transporting immigrants to the New World, to rescuing Titanic survivors and finally to its wartime service to the Crown, transferring American and Canadian forces to Europe.”
“And to think I had the honor to be aboard her.” But for some reason, the news depressed Martin more than ever, leaving him to count the days until he could return home.
Chapter 31
At the 11th hour on the 11th day in the 11th month of 1918, World War I came to an end and with it the Austria-Hungarian regime. Nine million soldiers died and twenty-one million were left wounded. Another five million civilians died from starvation, disease, and exposure. But Martin and Stan had survived its trail of death…but not quite, as a deadly menace lurked nearby—the pandemic known as the Spanish flu.
The flu had taken its toll amongst soldiers who lived in close quarters or were cramped together in trenches along the Western Front. The virus had swept through US training camps, and troops took it with them to the battlefront in Europe. Martin, Stan, and their shipmates feared the Spanish flu even more than they feared German U-boats. And since Gibraltar was on Spain’s Iberian Peninsula, there was much cause for concern.
Martin noticed that Stan began to spend even more time in his bunk and appeared lethargic whenever he saw him. He worried that Stan had put himself at risk for infection by spending so much time inside in close quarters. Meantime, Martin tried to spend as much time as possible on the deck in fresh air, one of the best means to stay healthy. He recalled that Lena had been prescribed fresh air when she was trying to overcome tuberculosis and it had worked. The Lydonia was not even half way back across the Atlantic when a flu outbreak struck. It was not a surprise that Stan was among its victims.
Martin was worried about his friend. He heard how the virus could strike a healthy man in the morning, leaving him dead by nightfall. He did not want Stan to meet that fate. But what could he do to help?
Everyday Martin went below deck to the bunkroom to check on Stan but not before covering his mouth and nose with a clean handkerchief. Somehow Stan was holding his own against the virus, but Martin did not know how long he would be able to keep up the fight. As the ship drew closer to the US coastline, life grew grimmer aboard as man after man succumbed to the illness. But so far, Stan had not been among the dead.
The captain made an announcement that the Lydonia would be pulling into port at Baltimore where the crew would debark and be transported to the Naval hospital in Bethesda for quarantine, observation and treatment, if necessary. Martin was relieved as he noticed more and more of the crew developing dark spots on their cheeks and turning blue as a result of a lack of oxygen in the lungs. It was anybody’s guess who would be struck next.
Stan made a fine recovery at the naval hospital and Martin’s quarantine kept him from getting it. Now the pair made their way to Washington’s Union Station to catch the transcontinental train back to San Francisco. With their war experience behind them, the return journey was more subdued as they thought of reuniting with their loved ones back home in time for Christmas. They slept most of the way, no longer interested in the scenery as they had already seen enough to last a lifetime.
When the train pulled into Union Depot, a Beaux Arts building akin to Washington’s Union Station, their families were waiting for them. Martin and Stan spotted them right away but got separated from each other as they moved through the crowd. When Martin laid his eyes on Lena, he picked her up in his arms and twirled her around before hugging her close to give her a sensual kiss. He wanted her to know what she could anticipate as soon as they got home. Before he could even embrace his two children, Lena said, “You left me with more than memories.” Then she turned to point to a baby in Karlo’s arms. “I named him after you.”
Martin looked at the swaddled bundle nearly seven months old. “Why didn’t you write to tell me?”
“I did. But my letter was returned a month ago so I thought I would just wait and surprise you.”
As he released her from his embrace he said, “Well, you certainly did that. Any more surprises that I should know about before getting home?”
“None that you need to know about right now. Your safe return is the most important thing at the moment.”
“If I can find him, I want to introduce you to Stan and his family.” Martin looked around him but didn’t see Stan anywhere. He felt sad that they had departed without even a goodbye.
But once they had exited, Martin saw Stan lingering on the sidewalk surrounded by his family. They exchanged addresses with a promise to get together and then headed off through the crowds with their families in tow.
Martin had been gone from home for sixteen months. He knew he had changed, and he wondered how home had changed—if there would be any more surprises.
He had not noticed Pauline’s absence at his arrival, but once they walked into her home and she was not there to greet them, he thought it strange. “Where is your mother?” he asked Lena.
“She is not well, Martin. We have been keeping her in her room. It could be the flu. So many families have lost loved ones while you were away that no one was untouched.”
Martin’s face became red as he tried to hold back his fury. “You mean she is lying there in a sick bed and you and the children are living under the same roof. You could all end up dead if the disease spreads.”
Tears rolled down Lena’s cheeks. “We are doing our best. But someone has to take care of Mama so I’ve been elected since we’re living here.”
That turned out to be unnecessary. The next morning when Lena went in to check on her mother, she ran out screaming. “She’s cold as ice. No breath. Her eyes are glazed over like a corpse.”
Karlo hurried into the room to confirm Lena’s findings and let out a bellowing primal cry. “My love has been snatched from me by the Angel of Death.” As he pulled up the blanket to cover her face, Karlo murmured, “May your soul rest in peace.”
Once the undertaker removed Pauline’s body from the home, the task of sanitizing the room as well as the whole house began. Even though it was December, every window was thrown open to allow fresh air to circulate to help rid the house of airborne pathogens. “You need help,” Martin said to Lena. He put out the word and soon Mexican laborers who were still in town after the harvest showed up, glad for the work. They were willing to do any job no matter how risky to earn money to live and provide for their families. The house had to be readied quickly to receive mourners since the funeral was only two days away.
When mourners arrived, filling the house with a sea of black, Martin noted the stark contrast to his wedding reception when the house was filled with guests dressed in colorful finery, wearing smiles on their faces. Liu, Chao, and Hong had come early to prepare for the reception, a simple lunch of ham, turkey, and salads in keeping with the occasion. The only dessert was dried fruit and nuts. But liquor flowed freely as it always did at wakes and funerals, including sljivovica, which Martin had included from his own collection. The liquor could be counted on to soothe wounds no matter how deep.