The California Immigrant

by Barbara Anne King

  When Marty and Tom Paul walked in the door, Lena and Martin could hardly believe their eyes. Lena jumped out of her seat and ran toward them, not knowing which one to hug first. Martin just stood up and waited for Lena’s hysterics to abate and then gave each of his sons a hug and handshake. “You both look well. The war must have gone easy on you.” Marty and Tom Paul looked at each other and said in unison, “Wait until you hear our war stories to decide.”

  But even more telling than their own war stories, Marty and Tom Paul wanted to know about Frankie. “Is Frankie back yet?” asked Marty. “We parted at Cherbourg and I haven’t seen him since.”

  Martin said, “He’s home. He’s been home awhile.”

  Then Lena chimed in. “It won’t be long until his wedding.”

  “Wedding,” said Tom Paul. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “Ivana Rosandich. You remember her. Very pretty blonde. Her father is an apple farmer.”

  “So, where is the groom so we can congratulate him?”

  Just then, the door opened and Marty and Tom Paul heard the familiar stomp across the kitchen floor. They were afraid to turn and lay their eyes on Frankie for fear of what else they might see. But they had no choice. Marty was the first one to make the move. And when he saw Frankie’s smiling face, all in one piece, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Frankie,” he said, “it’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you since we parted in Portsmouth, but as I told you, I had your back in both Normandy and Cherbourg.” Then he stepped in closer to give Frankie a hug. When they parted, he could not help casting his eyes downward for a glimpse of his war injury. Even though Frankie was wearing long pants he could tell he had lost a leg.

  “You can probably tell there is something different about me. The Germans gave me a new left leg and it’s working pretty well. Thank God for German ingenuity.”

  Tom Paul was hugging Frankie now. Somehow he felt it unfair that Frankie had had to go head-to-head with the enemy while he was insulated in a Hellcat that he loved to fly. Certainly, it was always a fight between life and death—never anything in between. But he had emerged relatively unscathed in both body and soul. Even Marty had more battle scars than he did, although they were invisible to the naked eye.

  “Well, it’s past dinnertime but you are probably hungry. Come sit down in the kitchen and I’ll make you a sandwich to tide you over until breakfast,” said Lena.

  “Don’t worry about us,” said Marty. “When we stopped at Mare Island, we got a chance to grab some grub before flying down here.”

  “What about you Tom Paul?”

  “I’m fine, Ma. But I think Marty and I could use a shot of sljivovica.”

  “Of course,” said Martin. “Let me go get a bottle. Lena, please get out the crystal glasses. The boys deserve the best.”

  Chapter 73

  On Sunday, the family went to church together to give thanks that they had all survived the war. Then they went home to gather around the dining room table for a feast that Lena and Martin had jointly prepared. A roast leg of lamb seasoned with rosemary and garlic and surrounded by a variety of fresh, seasonal vegetables was the centerpiece of the feast. The meal was accompanied by mint pesto. Lamb was always a favorite around the Petrovich household. The boys took seconds with Tom Paul stashing away a third. As they waited for dessert to arrive, Clara asked Frankie if he and Ivana had set a date for their wedding. “We wanted to wait until Marty and Tom Paul returned home. But now we will set a date soon. One thing I learned from the war, don’t count on tomorrow.”

  “Well, I certainly agree with you there,” said Marty. “That’s why I want to meet Ivana as soon as possible. I’m surprised she’s not here today.”

  “I had a discussion with Ma and Pa about that, but we thought her first meeting with you shouldn’t be the first time you had a chance to talk with the family about your experiences.”

  “I agree with that,” said Tom Paul. “But let’s invite her for next Sunday. Maybe by then you will have set the date.”

  Lena carried out an apple tart while Clara put out the coffee service. After dessert, Martin brought out the sljivovica and offered a toast. “To God and to freedom. May both reign forever.” After they finished their first glass, Martin said, “Now, boys, follow me into the den.” After they entered, he closed the door and said, “We need to talk.”

  Clara and Peter took that as their cue to depart with the kids, leaving Lena with a sink full of dishes to address. They would keep her busy while Martin discussed the war and the future with his sons.

  “Now, that we are alone among warriors, we can really talk,” said Martin. “Here. Let me fill up your glasses.” He went around the room to fill them and then check the remaining contents of the bottle. “Don’t worry,” he said, “there is more where this came from. Why don’t we first start by taking turns sharing our experiences in the war. Who wants to start?”

  Marty began by recounting the various battles he and his shipmates on the Nevada had been in. “My one disappointment was we were not able to stay in the Battle of Okinawa to the end. But those kamikazes saw to it that we were too damaged to make the finish line.”

  Next Tom Paul took a turn. “It was a thrill to fight in a Hellcat. That machine was built for doing battle. But it tore me apart when I witnessed my wingman hit and going up in flames while I was too helpless to do anything but fly on.”

  Now all eyes were on Frankie. “Pa has heard some of what I’ve gone through so I’d like to spare him a repeat. But there is nothing more inhumane than hand-to-hand combat. In order to do it, you have to become a machine without a heart or soul. But I did it. I made it through Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge. After dodging so many bullets and bombs, who would ever have imagined I’d lose a leg to a rock while securing a building. But better that than my life.”

  When Frankie finished, there were several moments of silence. Then Martin said, “Everyone paid a price for the war. Some more than others. But now it’s time to move on and talk about the future. Frankie, as you know, has plans to get married. And he’s going into the apple business with his soon-to-be father-in-law. Have either of you given any thought yet to what you’d like to do?”

  “I just want to fly,” said Tom Paul. “Maybe I could become a commercial pilot and fly one of those big jets.”

  “What about you, Marty?”

  “I might want to take advantage of the GI bill and go to college. That’s what some of my mates are doing. Maybe I’ll study engineering like Marko and build ships.”

  “You know, ship building could be in your genes. Relatives back home in Croatia are ship builders. Tom Paul, what do you think about going to college? Education is the way to prosperity.”

  “I will have to look into it. Maybe I’d study aeronautical engineering, which would be good for a pilot to know.”

  “Your plans are very sound. Frankie, you, too, could go to college and study agriculture.”

  “At my age, I think I’ve missed out. And, besides, I can learn all I need to know about apple farming from the best apple farmers in the world right here at home.”

  “As for me, the navy is still here but will be winding its operations up in the next few months. The Japanese community will need support for its future and I’d like to do whatever I can to help.”

  Chapter 74

  By October, most of the Japanese who’d planned to return to Watsonville had but it was not the same number that had been living in Japantown prior to the war. This left the community broken as it struggled to repair itself. The reality of what they returned to was a shock—leased land had been lost, property destroyed, even farms that had been put in the hands of caretakers had suffered neglect after initial crops had been harvested.

  Martin stopped by the strawberry farm on a regular basis to visit with Ken and bolster his spirits. But instead he listened to Ken’s tale of woe. And he was learning more about his Poston experience. A low point happened early on when a guard beat a Ja
panese prisoner suspected of being an informer. That resulted in more beatings and a camp-wide strike and work stoppage. After a period of negotiations, the camp settled down as internees learned to accept their situation.

  Today when Martin arrived, he found Ken in the office with one of his sons who was wearing a Boy Scout uniform. This took Martin by surprise. “Did you join the local Boy Scout troop?” he asked.

  Before he could answer, Ken spoke up, “Martin, this is my son, Bill.” The boy bowed and when he stood up, extended his arm to shake Martin’s hand.

  “Actually,” Ken explained, “Bill joined the Boy Scout troop at Poston. But we were familiar with scouting since it had been in Japan for many years, although it was suspended during the war years, I understand. Bill likes to wear his uniform around to show his patriotism for America.”

  “I see,” said Martin. “We had scouting in Yugoslavia, too, but I wasn’t a member. What did you do in your scout troop, Bill?”

  “We learned a lot of outdoor skills and worked on merit badges. We even got to have a couple of jamborees with nearby troops. That was a really good time—so many boys just having fun together.”

  Martin raised his eyebrows. He was surprised they had Boy Scout troops in internment camps and even more surprised that they let American boys inside to interact with them. “I’m glad you have a few good memories of your time away.”

  “Now I want to join a troop here if I can find one.” At that, Ken motioned for Bill to leave the office so he and Martin could speak privately.

  “Have you tried to find a troop for him here?” Martin asked. “It might help his transition back.”

  Ken let out a sigh. “We are treading lightly until we gain a better foothold. We don’t want our children feeling rejection. It’s enough that we adults feel rejected.”

  “Well, if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.” Martin wanted to ask Ken about his relatives in Hiroshima but was afraid that would open up more wounds that were still very fresh and raw.

  Chapter 75

  In November, the navy pulled up its last stakes and left town, leaving its buildings behind which the town eyed for a new school. Martin was on hand for a departure ceremony, during which the navy thanked the town for its hospitality and cooperation. Captain Barkley said, “I especially want to recognize Mayor Simpson and Martin Petrovich, town liaison, for all their support of our efforts. You contributed to the success of our mission here and our victory in war.” A wave of pride welled up in Martin, knowing that his own son got his dive-bomb training at this facility and that training had enabled him to become an ace and, more importantly, saved his life. Martin was overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of his feelings and could not hold back the tears. I guess this is finally the release of all the emotions I suppressed during wartime.

  The following Friday night, the Captain invited Mayor Simpson, Martin, and his committee, made up of just Michael and Filip, and their wives for an evening of dinner and dancing at the Naval Post Graduate School in Monterey. He and Lena had not been there since their honeymoon when it was known as the Del Monte Hotel. But once they were inside, it felt much the same and brought back memories. They walked down the hallway to the Trident Bar where the group was supposed to meet up. Trident, Martin mused—what an appropriate name. The weapon of Poseidon that legend tells us he used to control the sea. My father always offered a prayer to the Greek god before he set sail and for the most part, he used the Trident to keep the seas calm. I guess the navy prays to Poseidon, too.

  As Martin and Lena entered the room, he heard his name called and looked in the direction of one of the large tables in the corner. The Captain and Mayor Simpson along with their wives were already seated, engaged in conversation, and when Martin and Lena arrived they welcomed them warmly. After Filip and Michael arrived with their wives, the group headed for the dining room where a table for ten was awaiting them under a Spanish-style chandelier aglow with candlelight. After they took their seats, the Captain proudly announced, “I asked you here on a Friday night because the navy flies in king crab from Alaska as a special treat.” A smile crossed Martin’s lips and he had trouble suppressing a laugh. “What’s the matter? Do you have something against crab?”

  “No, not at all, Captain. But I just heard tales from my two boys about a big crab feast they had at Ulithi Atoll.”

  “Was it on an island called Mogmog?”

  “That it was. Apparently the island was crawling with the creatures so big and strong they could crack coconuts with their pincers.”

  “Those stories of a crab feast on Mogmog found their way around the world, gaining mythic proportions. They’re the stuff of legend now. Your boys were lucky to take part.”

  “Anyway, they got a lesson in the various varieties of crab and learned that Alaskan king crab is the best, if not the hardest to catch.”

  “That’s why Friday nights are so special here. But there are a lot of other good items on the buffet as well if you don’t fancy crab. And by the way, you can drop the Captain. I got my star.”

  So, he is now a rear admiral. There is nothing like war for advancement.

  Chapter 76

  A flurry of activity heralded the beginning of December. Not only had the holidays arrived but Frankie and Ivana had set the date for their wedding for the Saturday after Christmas, December 29. Martin was happy they had chosen a date his restaurant would be closed so he could use all its resources to cater the reception. While it would be easier on Lena not having a reception in their home, Martin was not familiar with the Rosandich’s home so he was going to have to make a special visit to learn about the venue.

  This Christmas was an especially meaningful one for the family as they all gathered together to celebrate. Martin felt especially blessed that all of his children were with him, even though a few were bruised, none were broken. Ivana had chosen to spend Christmas Eve with Frankie’s family, and she brought a note of good cheer that could have been overshadowed by melancholy.

  As they dined on traditional fare, Frankie spoke up. “Guess who I got a Christmas card from?” He waited out a moment of silence before revealing the answer. “My nurse, Greta, at Luitpold Hospital in Wurzburg.”

  “That’s nice,” said Lena. “You should reply to let her know how you’re doing and that you’re getting married.”

  “I’ll send her a wedding picture. She’ll like that. But I want to tell you what she said. They’re going to rebuild Wurzburg just like it was. To me, that is just incredible. Only a few building remained by the time I got there, but from what I saw that baroque architecture is extremely intricate. It’s going to be difficult.”

  “They must have a plan in mind. Germans don’t leave anything to chance. My guess is that they have some of the original workmen around who can help.”

  “That’s just it—they don’t. Most of their men are either dead or maimed and not up to the task. It’s the women who are going to do it.”

  “Women,” said Tom Paul, as if he had not heard correctly.

  “That’s right…women.”

  “Well, I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Marty.

  “Don’t discount them,” said Frankie. “They have building and engineering in their blood. I was amazed at how fast San Francisco was rebuilt—twenty thousand buildings in three years.”

  “That was new construction, built by men,” said Marty. “They’re going to try to replicate historic buildings. Not easily done.”

  “You’re already talking like an engineer,” said Martin. “No doubt you’re meant to be one.”

  When New Year’s Day dawned, Martin was a happy man. Frankie’s wedding had been a more joyous celebration than he could have ever imagined and since Ivana’s father had no sons, only sons-in-law, Frankie not only gained a father-in-law on his wedding day but a business partner. Martin knew Frankie would prove himself to be up to the task with his work ethic and love of all things nature. It would take a while to get the other tw
o sons settled, but he knew they were on their way, too, and besides they were now men who had to forge their own futures.

  When the restaurant reopened after the holidays, Martin got ambushed by Liu and Chao. “The time has finally come to start our own restaurant so we must leave.”

  Martin began to stammer. “Leave. I don’t know what I’ll be able to do without you. Is there anything I can do to change your minds?”

  “You have trained us so well, and for that we are grateful, but as you know it has always been our dream to own our own restaurant…be in business for ourselves.”

  “Yes, I know. But as the years went by I thought you’d given up on that.”

  “Before, the opportunity wasn’t right. But now, prosperity is in the air and we want to grab some of it.”

  “What about Hong? Is he going to join you?”

  “You will have to talk to him yourself. We cannot speak for him.”

  That response gave Martin a bit of relief. At least if Hong was staying at the grocery store he would not have that business to worry about, too. “You once said you would have replacements for me. Is that still the case?”

  “We so sorry. We have asked around but things are good in San Francisco and no one wants to come down here where there is no Chinatown.”

  “I see. So, how much notice are you giving?”

  “If two weeks is customary, we will give you that.”

  “Thank you. And Happy New Year.”

  “Oh, it is not New Year’s for us yet. Chinese New Year starts on February second, which will be our grand opening. It will be Year of Dog, a good time to seize opportunities.”