Julia, page 13
The men helped unload the women’s luggage, then Heppner shook Julia’s hand. “Great to be working with you again. I think you’ll know some of our other transfers who just arrived. Rosie Frame and Paul Child.”
Julia’s words disappeared for a moment. Paul was here too? It had to be new because her last letter from him—last week—hadn’t said anything. And Rosie too? She was excited to see Rosie, and she pushed down the memory of Paul saying he and Rosie had gone on a couple of dates . . . But more importantly, what would it be like to see Paul again? Would they fall into their easy friendship again? Would they be pairing off like they had at Kandy? Or would new distractions and new people keep them firmly in the casual friend corner?
“It’s getting late,” Heppner continued. “We’re having food delivered here so you can unpack. Tomorrow morning, be ready to get to work.”
“We will,” Betty said.
The next morning, Julia’s roommate, Betty, somehow commandeered a truck, and Julia jumped in with her. Ellie and Peachy were roommates, and Julia didn’t know what their schedule would be. As Betty drove, Julia saw Kunming with fresh eyes. Most of the buildings had red-tiled rooftops, which created a harmonious picture. Once they were out of their nicer neighborhood, they drove along muddy roads crowded with people and wagons and trishaws.
Many of the Chinese wore padded blue coats, and to keep their hands warm this early in the morning, they tucked them into the opposite sleeves. “Look at the beautiful embroidery of that woman’s slippers,” Julia said as they drove past a shop woman setting out her wares on the sidewalk.
Then something foul filled the air, and Julia wrinkled her nose. “Oh, what’s that smell?”
Betty held a scarf to her nose. “Well, it looks like sewage and smells like sewage.”
“Down the middle of the road?”
“You’re not in Kandy anymore.”
They certainly weren’t. The truck passed seedy alleyways that Julia was pretty sure she’d never dare step foot in, and after they left the walled city, they arrived at the Detachment 202 compound, which was also surrounded by high walls. Regardless, Julia was more than happy to be out of the mud and stink. She was also a little happy that Peachy and Ellie weren’t with them right now—Julia didn’t know how she’d react to seeing Paul. Or better yet, how he’d react to seeing her. Did he know she was here? He had to.
She wouldn’t have to explain anything to Betty, and Julia wanted to keep it that way. For now.
Heppner was there to greet them, and he led Julia to her new office. “We’re in desperate need for your talent, Julia,” he said. “I’ve told Helliwell all about what you accomplished in Kandy.”
“I hope I can live up to it, then,” Julia said, all the while wondering if she’d turn the next corner and see Paul. Of course, he wouldn’t be wandering around. He’d be neck deep in setting up another War Room.
“Here we are,” Heppner said, opening a door.
Inside the room littered with desks and stacks of files, Helliwell rose to his feet. It was early in the morning, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. His hair stuck out on end, and he sported dark circles beneath his eyes. “Welcome, welcome,” he said. “Did Heppner give you the grand tour?”
Julia looked at the man. “Did you?”
He grinned. “Not yet, but there’s work to be done right now.”
“Yes, sir.” She turned to Helliwell. “What can I start on?”
Relief crossed his face, and over the next couple of hours he showed her the ins and outs of how their division served the intelligence branches. He explained that once he trained her, he’d be turning over the operation to her. “Don’t worry, there are nine other staff members who will work directly under you.”
“Nine?” Had Julia been promoted?
“It’s a large operation, and information has to be sorted, labeled, and distributed immediately.”
Julia could understand that. After only a couple of hours with Helliwell, she could also see that a new system for code names and filing confidential paperwork needed to be implemented. The way Helliwell was doing it was much too tedious.
The other staff began to arrive, and after brief introductions, everyone set to work.
Julia familiarized herself with the index files system, and it didn’t take long to spot where improvements needed to be made. She found a stack of reports that had come in from the OSS field missions—which included the coastal cities of China. The field reports detailed the locations of prisoner-of-war camp sites, and some of the reports were months old.
“Have any of these reports been categorized or indexed?” Julia asked Heppner.
By the look on his face, he didn’t even need to answer. “It’s in the queue. We’re getting more every day, and it will take time to verify the locations and the number of prisoners.”
“I think it needs to be prioritized,” she said. “These prison camp locations can’t be estimates only. We need to cross-locate them with other field reports on the movement of the Japanese army and the prisoner estimations in each of these locations.”
Heppner sighed. “Yes.”
Yes? That was his only answer. Julia noted the expectation in his eyes. She now knew why she’d been reassigned here. “I’ll start organizing the system. When the OSS rescue teams are allowed to perform rescue operations, we need to provide them with accurate information so those prisoners don’t spend one more day in camp than they have to.”
The next hours passed quickly, and when Louis Hector, the man from the plane, entered, Julia was happy to see him.
“I need some currency,” Louis said to Heppner.
The man nodded. “This way. Julia, you come too. Since you’ll be doling this out.”
Julia, curious, followed the men into the adjoining office. In one corner sat a steel footlocker. Heppner turned the combination then opened it. He reached inside and drew out squares of grease paper that looked like small pieces of chocolate had been wrapped inside.
“What’s that?” Julia asked.
Heppner glanced over at the open door, then up at Julia. “Secret currency that we pay the spies for their work. Money is not all that valuable to them.”
Julia frowned. “And that is . . .” Then she realized what she was looking at. “Opium? We pay them in opium?”
“Correct.” Heppner counted out a dozen pieces, wrapped them, then handed them over to Louis.
After the transaction and Louis had left, Heppner explained their currency method of what he called operational opium. “Kunming is an opium stronghold. We tell all OSS, especially the women, to only travel to designated and approved areas. And never travel alone.”
When Julia got over the shock of the opium payments, she returned to work, pushing through. She probably would have continued straight through lunch if Helliwell hadn’t stopped her. She was so deep in her work, she hadn’t even heard him talking until he came over to her desk.
“You have to eat, or Heppner will have my hide.”
“I’ll never complain about stopping for a meal,” Julia said. When they stepped outside the main building, the wind pummeled around them. “Is this normal weather?” she asked, touching her hair—knowing it was too late to save it.
“It’s normal for spring, or so I’ve been told,” Helliwell said. “Word of advice: Don’t talk until we’re at the cafeteria. There’s a lot of dust in the air.”
Julia had just noticed that a reddish-brown dust billowed around her, making her eyes water. She kept up Helliwell’s pace and hurried to the cafeteria. Once inside, she brushed off her clothing. Helliwell didn’t even seem to notice that his hair was peppered with reddish-brown dirt.
“Julia!” a voice called, and she turned to see Rosie Frame.
The petite woman flung herself at Julia and hugged her. “I heard you were coming.” Rosie drew back. “You’re as beautiful and statuesque as ever. I think China suits you.”
Julia laughed. “You’re as flattering as you’ve always been.”
“I’m stealing her, Helliwell,” Rosie said and drew Julia toward the cafeteria buffet. They walked arm in arm. “Tell me everything,” Rosie continued. “As soon as I found out you knew Paul Child, I drilled him with a thousand questions. I think he’s been hiding from me the past couple of days.”
“What did Paul say about me?” Julia asked, then regretted being so transparent.
“Oh, I’ll let him answer that himself,” Rosie said lightly. “He just walked in the door.”
Julia couldn’t help but turn and look. Sure enough, Paul headed toward them, an easy smile on his face. She couldn’t explain the relief she felt at seeing him safe and sound after three months apart. She didn’t expect him to fall over in raptures, but his smile was nice.
“Julie, you’re here,” he said.
“I’m here. I didn’t know you’d be here though.”
He stepped close, kissed her cheek, then stepped back.
Julia’s skin warmed at his touch and attention. She tried to keep her voice mellow though. “When did you get reassigned?”
Paul motioned toward the line that had moved forward. “Let’s get our food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Julia frowned as she inspected the large platters of food. “What is all this?”
“Rice, potatoes, water buffalo, and canned tomatoes. You’ll get used to it.”
Julia’s stomach recoiled. “I hardly think so.” She looked over at Paul and asked, “Is it really water buffalo?”
“It is.”
Their table ended up being crowded, with Paul, Rosie, Ellie, Peachy, Heppner, and Betty. It was like no time had passed at all, and there were only a couple of different faces mixed in. Everyone had a story to tell, including Paul about his challenges of securing needed equipment and waiting for his full team to arrive—which would include Jack Moore and Jeanne Taylor.
Rosie regaled them about her great crush on a man named Thibaut de Saint Phalle. “He’s OSS, too, but he’s French. With a name like that . . .” She blushed. “He’s from a famous French family, you know.”
A family Julia had never heard of, but that didn’t matter. She was happy to see Rosie so obviously enamored, and secretly happy that it wasn’t Paul she was after. Because, even now, knowing Paul for almost a year, and seeing him in two different settings, Julia could honestly say that her feelings for him were only growing stronger.
Chapter 13
Kunming, China
April–August 1945
“In the closing days of the war, the Office of Strategic Services was given the vital humanitarian and military assignment of locating, contacting and protecting Allied prisoners of war and civilian internees at camps scattered throughout China, Manchuria, Korea and French Indochina. The highly efficient manner in which simultaneous airborne landings were carried out after the aerial distribution of psychological surrender leaflets prepared and printed in China by OSS personnel was a glowing tribute to careful planning, excellent teamwork and unremitting devotion to duty of all personnel.”
—OSS Unit Commendation
Julia stayed in Kunming for just over a month, then she was transferred again. To Chongqing this time. Paul had been able to fill her in on a few details about what to expect in Chongqing, and they’d spent more time together, but it was always in groups.
Julia’s impression of Chongqing was that it was beautiful in a wild, chaotic way. The city was built atop hills and cliffs, and the Yangtze River flowed through the center of it. The temperature was warmer and more humid than Kunming, and Julia enjoyed the contrast. And the population was dense. Julia stood out like a towering statue among all the people, and gaggles of children followed her everywhere in the brown streets. In fact, everything was brown—the clothing, the water, the buildings, the roads.
Amid the beauty, though, there were harsh reminders of Japanese bombings everywhere, from the crumbled houses to the destroyed roads.
When Julia found out that her assignment was only short-term and then she’d be returning to Kunming, she was overjoyed. She’d been tasked with organizing the file system, which mostly meant reducing redundancy. She was more than happy to be overseas and helping with the war effort, but why did it always have to be attached to spending tedious hours cataloging and filing?
The day she finally returned to Kunming, she learned that President Franklin D. Roosevelt had died. It was April 12, 1945. However, the nation’s sad news could not overshadow the joy she felt at being back. Even though the US’s politics were in an upheaval and Kandy was the paradise she truly missed, her dearest friends were here—and that made Kunming feel like a second home.
She wasn’t too happy about the cafeteria food, despite rumors that said the OSS base had hired some Chinese cooks, but there was only so much that could be done with army food, it seemed.
“Is anyone up for exploring the city for other options to eat?” Paul asked as a group of them entered the cafeteria together.
“Me,” Julia said immediately. Everyone else had an excuse, but she didn’t mind.
“Let’s go,” Paul said. “We’ll take the OSS truck.”
Julia was more than thrilled to find herself riding along with Paul on a narrow dirt street until they found a restaurant he said he’d been to a few times, one their mutual friend Theodore White, who’d been in China since 1939, had recommended. Julia could only hope that something inside would be tastier than what they’d left behind in the mess hall.
They parked at the far edge of the road, and Paul held the door open for her. Then they waited for a couple of trishaws to pass before crossing the street and entering the restaurant.
Everything inside was noisy, hectic, and smelled amazing as the cooks chopped vegetables and meat, then stirred the food in sizzling woks.
A server ushered them to a table next to one of the open windows. The noises from the street only made the dining experience more striking. The server lavished them with dish after dish of tasty food, and Julia was pretty sure she was in heaven.
“What is this?” Julia asked, taking another bite of some sort of fragrant chicken stew. “I could eat it every day. Can we come back tomorrow?”
Paul smiled. “It’s called qi guo ji.” He reached for his drink, then said, “I’m not sure about all the spices they use, but they cook the stew in a clay pot.”
Julia took another dreamy bite. “It’s incredible. What else have you eaten here?”
Paul described dishes such as ba jiao y zheng yu and guo qiao mi xian. It all sounded delicious, and she wanted to try everything. Besides, it was nice to have Paul along since he was the driver and he knew Chinese better than she.
Over the next weeks, she and Paul visited more restaurants. Once in a while, others would accompany them, but mostly, it was the two of them. When the news came that Adolf Hitler had died on April 30, Paul wanted to celebrate, so they headed out to find another restaurant. Apparently, Kunming was the capital of Yunnanese cuisine, and Julia couldn’t get enough. She loved to sit and watch the chaotic preparations all around them as their waiter yelled their order to the cook and the cook threw the dishes together in adept fashion. Julia was completely entertained and only wished she could speak the language better.
Paul got by very well, and she watched as he picked up chopsticks and artfully began to use them.
The chopsticks in Julia’s hands wouldn’t quite cooperate.
“Don’t grip so hard,” Paul said. “Here. Think of them as an extension of your fingers. Just as your fingers might pick up that piece of meat, so can the chopsticks.”
Julia drew in a breath, then tried again. She successfully picked up the meat, but it wobbled as the chopsticks rose. With Paul watching, she felt self-conscious. She managed to get it into her mouth, but some of the sauce escaped.
Paul only laughed and handed over a napkin.
“Does it get easier?” she asked. “I’m going to starve at this rate.”
“You’ll become an expert in no time,” he said.
The next hour sped by, and Paul ordered more food. If he wasn’t in any hurry, then neither was she.
“Word is that transfers are coming again,” Paul said.
Julia had heard this too. She both dreaded it and wanted to see more of the world. Mostly she didn’t want to give up Paul again. Yet she couldn’t ever tell him that. He hadn’t kissed her in Kunming, even though they’d spent more time together than ever before.
“Tell me about your sister,” Paul said.
The question was surprising, but the other day, he’d asked about her father and brother. She’d told him about her father’s extreme political views and his general stubbornness, and she’d also mentioned John’s war injuries and his wife, Jo. Then Paul had shared more about Charlie and their childhood rivalry, which Julia suspected was still going on. Paul seemed to obsess over the things Charlie had that Paul didn’t, such as an education, a steady job, marriage to the love of his life, and children—although Paul had said he wasn’t keen on having a brood of children since he’d had his fill teaching school.
“Dort is impulsive,” Julia said.
“Knowing her older sister, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“My sister is . . . well, she’s the typical younger sister, copying everything I did as a kid. But she’s more creative than I am—more passionate and really talented in all aspects of the theater. I know she’s putting things on hold while I’m over here. Someone has to look after our father.”
“It’s noble of her, certainly,” Paul said. “But you’re doing something noble too.”
Julia wouldn’t argue with that, but she also worried about Dort’s becoming resentful. “She and Pop get along well. Dort doesn’t push his buttons as much as I do.” Julia shrugged and took another bite of her steamed fish. She took a moment to chew and enjoy the taste.
