Season of My Enemy, page 6
By the time they finished and the back of the truck and both wagons were filled, the sun had almost fully set. Silence fell into twilight as the engines were cut. Fraülein O’Brien climbed stiffly out of the truck and walked past the men to speak to the corporal. Wolf heard their conversation clearly but understood only vinery and their nods.
He stepped closer, drawing their attention. “Will we work into the night, Corporal? The fact that we are out later than expected has not gone unnoticed by my men.”
“We’ve received permission to work through the night if necessary. The vinery schedules farms for deliveries, and it must all be done within those parameters. Understand?”
Wolf nodded. “Ja, Corporal. I understand. I only wanted to know. If you do not mind, I also wanted to thank Fraülein O’Brien and her family for allowing us to work for her. Please tell her. And tell her we will continue to do our best as long as we are needed here.” He punctuated his speech with a smile at her. She shifted her feet and folded her arms over her middle.
“I’ll tell her.” The corporal turned to Fraülein O’Brien, and with a few glances at Wolf during the speech, he passed along his message.
“There’s more,” she said to the corporal. Then she lowered her arms and finally looked at Wolf directly. “Thank you for saying so, Captain Kloninger.” She paused so the corporal could translate, then continued. “I appreciate your willingness to be here despite … despite everything.” She looked away nervously and back again. “You can be sure our family notices the hard work your men are doing.” Her words sounded stiff and formal, but she waited for the corporal to finish translating and then nodded so the captain would know she was finished.
Wolf bowed slightly and turned away. He knew he hardly looked like the man of rank—the Hauptmann he was—in his filthy prison uniform, but his appearance was no cause to behave improperly. His men eyed the exchange momentarily before ignoring them altogether. Only Leo squinted, regarding the entire thing. Whether out of curiosity, suspicion, or simple weariness, Wolf couldn’t tell, but he was certain that once they’d all rested, Leo would let him know.
CHAPTER 5
At five o’clock in the morning, Fannie stepped once again into the rusty Ford and turned the engine over, breaking the lovely stillness of morning of a new day. Her body ached from head to toe, but she did her best to ignore the grip of weariness by telling herself that all she needed was another cup of coffee. She tucked her thermos beside her on the seat and pulled away from the yard. Once she got to the vinery, she could pour herself a cup and sip it while the crew took last night’s load off the trailer. Then they’d all come back to the farm for the other wagon. Now that a second guard was coming, only four of the men would go to the vinery. The other four would stay and load the second trailer behind the tractor. At least she hoped Corporal Taft wouldn’t be arriving alone today.
As the sun spread golden fronds over the edge of the eastern sky, her thoughts spread back to last evening when the prisoners returned to get the final load onto the wagon, and to the encounter with the German captain, Hauptmann Kloninger. He had caught her eye several times throughout the day, and though his expression was almost always unreadable, he’d seemed desirous of a smooth affiliation between them—between her family and his men. While part of her wanted to believe that he meant no disquiet to their lives, the other part remained suspicious. Hadn’t she read of a German spy somewhere who tricked Americans he’d lived and worked with for years before the war—even graduating from an American university—only to cause them harm later on by subterfuge? How much more might these friendly appearing prisoners of war pretend compliance only to try to hurt them if given the chance? Weren’t they secretly sworn to do so? Patsy read novels too old for her, and she claimed it was always the case. In the local newspapers Fannie scanned at the library, letters to the editor muttered the same concerns.
It still grated on her that her family was in the position of needing the Germans’ help on the farm. Yet how would they have ever gotten so much done in the past twenty-four hours without it? The men had worked very hard. That much was true.
Fannie was grateful that she couldn’t understand their talk, for maybe she would have to endure their complaints. Yet they didn’t seem to complain. She heard their chuckles and light-sounding banter. Noticed their camaraderie. Jerry had too. She caught him grinning a time or two at some joking behavior he’d observed, even though he couldn’t understand them either.
Of course, she was aware that some of them watched her with another kind of interest. They’d not acted out of line other than giving easily interpreted glances the first day they’d come to do the potatoes, when she’d thought one of them made an off-color remark. Still, she’d only assumed. After all, she’d been ogled by men before.
She wished she knew some of their names.
The notion took Fannie by surprise. What did it matter what their names were? Kloninger. That was the only one she knew, and it was interesting that he also had learned their last name. The curiosity must be mutual then. Or maybe it wasn’t curiosity. Maybe it was something more sinister. But what?
What about that other one? The one with the dark hair and gray eyes who’d admired her tractor. Maybe she should let him try a turn on the mower just to offer an olive branch of trust. Of course, the prisoners weren’t supposed to be allowed to operate machinery, but it wasn’t like the mower was anything complicated, and she’d be right there running the tractor with a guard following along. The more she thought about it, the more the idea tickled her fancy. Maybe she was addled from lack of sleep.
Fannie pulled the heavy wagon into the vinery a few minutes later. The army transport was already there, and the prisoners were waiting beside it. The tarp had been removed so they could ride in the open air. She hadn’t thought about how smothering it must have been inside yesterday, but she thought of it now.
She pulled her load alongside the viner, and the men took their places to unload while she uncorked her thermos and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a sip and relaxed, resting an elbow on the open window. Captain Kloninger suddenly appeared beside her. Fannie jerked and nearly spilled on herself.
“Guten Morgen, Fraülein O’Brien.” He offered a friendly smile, as bright as the morning.
“Good morning, Captain.” His greeting was at least one phrase she knew in German, it surprised her to realize.
He expanded his chest with a deep breath, held it, and then expelled the air and smiled again as though to say it was a lovely day and good to be alive to enjoy it.
“Yes,” was all she said, and her thoughts sprang to Dale and Cal, hoping they were well. Her smile fell away, and thankfully he walked away as she frowned. There was injustice in the entire thing. That Dale was imprisoned and they had no idea how he fared, and that Cal was someplace where they seemingly couldn’t reach him. Did her brothers eat well? Rest well? Were they warm and safe? Did they enjoy a fresh breath of summery air and wear clean uniforms like Captain Kloninger did? Did the Germans or Japanese respect the Geneva Convention rules, or did Dale suffer? How was it fair that he might if these PWs did not?
She stiffened and tossed the grounds in her cup out the window. Then she got out of the truck and walked toward the viner to stretch her legs. Corporal Taft stood watching the men while he chatted with another soldier. She strolled over.
“Good morning, Corporal.”
He bobbed his head. “Good morning, Miss O’Brien. This is Private Vicks. He’ll be coming along out to your farm today. He can ride back and forth with the wagons, and I’ll stay at the field so you can keep cutting your peas with some of the men.”
“Nice to meet you, Private Vicks. Thank you. That will help tremendously. We can load much more quickly. Maybe we’ll be finished by suppertime.”
Private Vicks was young too, maybe only about twenty. As he moved, she noticed he had a slight limp. “Are you hurt, sir?”
“I took a little shrapnel, but I’m fine now. They sent me here.” His brief explanation said much. He couldn’t go back there, not with a wound to slow him down, but he could still serve by standing watch over prisoners. Again, she thought of Dale and Cal.
“I’m hoping my brother Cal will be home before long. We haven’t heard from him in a while. The army is supposed to be locating him.”
“I hope they send him to you soon.” His lips pressed together in a grim line that made her uneasy.
“Thank you.” She turned away again. Sometimes talking about it only made her nervous for Cal. She watched the men working down to the end of the load. They seemed vigorous and refreshed for the day. The coolness of the morning helped. The dark-haired PW with the gray eyes looked her way and lifted the corner of his mouth. She found herself returning a weak smile, but the moment after she did, she turned quickly away and uttered a prayer for Calvin’s safe return.
She strode over to Mr. Pearson, who was supervising the viner. He glanced down from where he stood on a ladder, checking that nothing was binding on the conveyor. “Everything’s right on schedule. Your loads are looking good.”
“We should be done on time.”
“Very good. I’ve got the Beillers’ peas coming in today from over by Canton. You’ll probably alternate loads.”
She nodded and glanced toward her crew. “Looks like we’re about finished. See you again in a little while, Mr. Pearson.”
The men were in their truck and already pulling onto the road by the time she got her wagon turned around. She’d have to follow them. Now that the tarp was pulled back on the army truck, there was nothing else to do but watch the men riding in the back all the way home. And they could see her too.
She pretended not to pay them any mind, of course, but it couldn’t be helped. Several of them seemed to be the talkers, keeping the other men listening or answering. One man, the young one built like a wrestler, barely spoke, but he smiled a lot. The two that most captured her curiosity were the captain and the dark-haired one. They both exhibited leadership, even though she didn’t know if the duskier man held any rank. He turned his face aside to watch the country rolling by. His profile was angular and handsome, and she wondered what he thought of her beautiful America. Was Wisconsin anything at all like the place he’d come from?
Supposedly a lot of Germans came to Wisconsin because it reminded them of home in one way or another. Did he live on a farm, or was he from a city like so many of the immigrants around Milwaukee? Someplace like Hamburg or Berlin? Did he merely admire her tractor, or did he miss one of his own? His gaze turned back to the men with him and suddenly lifted to pin on her. This time she didn’t pretend to look away but stared back.
His eyes appeared hooded, thoughtful, and neither smile nor frown expressed itself. He was entirely unreadable, but then maybe she was too. Then the transport hit a rut, and just as quickly his gaze moved on and so did Fannie’s. This time it was Captain Kloninger she saw looking at her, but only for a moment, and then he spoke to one of the young prisoners beside him.
Her driveway was just ahead, and she slowly loosened her jaw which, until then, she hadn’t realized was tightly clenched. She felt needled and worn, as if she’d endured a long and uncomfortable conversation, when none had taken place. And yet the discussion did not feel ended.
As soon as the prisoners got out of the truck, Corporal Taft gave orders in German. Fannie headed off to the field where Mom and Jerry were already cutting the first row of the day. She could relieve her mother. They saw her approach and stalled the tractor. Mom climbed down. “I’ll let you take over. I’ve got Patsy working on the bread. I want her to get a big jug of lemonade ready and brought out. Those men worked hard yesterday. I want them to have something special to show our appreciation.”
Fannie moved past her to climb onto the seat. “What for? They’re getting paid.”
“I know, but I want to do this.”
“Make sure you save us some,” Jerry said from his place on the mower seat.
“This is no time to be selfish, Jerry,” Mom said as she picked her way back over the cut peavines. “You’ll have plenty.”
“That’s all that matters to me.” Jerry grinned and hollered after her. “Other than that, give ‘em all you want.”
Fannie geared up the tractor and turned it at the end of the field. On the second row, they passed the Germans hustling along to catch up with the windrow.
Her brother whooped from behind her. “Faster! Faster! You can do it!”
She craned her neck to look behind. What was he yelling about? Two men were on each side of the windrow like teams in a race, laughing and pitching, but clearly trying to outdo one another to the end of the row. The other four PWs had gone down to the end of the row she’d just begun cutting.
They laughed and cast glances at Jerry, who continued to spur them on as she drove past, but they didn’t slow down.
Finally clear of them, she turned and called to Jerry. He guffawed. At her. When she got to the end of the row and saw that the prisoners were some fifty yards back, she scrambled down off the tractor and marched back to him. Anger boiled inside her. “What are you doing?” she shouted. “Stop it. They aren’t your high school football team. They’re your enemy. Have you forgotten?”
Jerry drew back. “So what? I’m just having some fun. For crying out loud, Fannie, take it easy.”
She leaned close to him. “Take it easy? They’re here because Cal and Dale aren’t. Have you forgotten that?”
His brown eyes dulled with a chill in them. “I didn’t forget.”
“You act like you have.” She lowered her voice. The prisoners were getting close. “See to it you don’t.”
“They’re not much older than me, Fan. Don’t you forget that.” He squared himself on his seat, and she climbed back up on the tractor. She refused to look at them as she rammed the tractor into gear and fed gasoline to the engine. She powered on, turning for another row.
Her heart pounded and her rib cage tightened like bands around her breaths. Poor Dale and Cal. She had to focus her thinking on them. Not on the fact that Jerry was right about these young men. They probably had families back home begging God for their sons’ and brothers’ return.
She passed them again as they neared the end of the windrow, some of them heaving for breath from exertion. Most of them so young.
Then the captain caught her looking and so did the gray-eyed man. She stopped and set the brake on the tractor. Climbing off, she took determined steps toward them. She walked directly up to the gray-eyed man. “What is your name?” She spoke demandingly. He glanced at his captain. “Name?” she asked again.
He blinked slowly and then said, “Obergefreiter Friedrickson.”
“Oberge …” She frowned. “No, your name.”
His brow leveled and the left side of his lips lifted slightly. “Leo Friedrickson.”
“Come, Leo. I have a job for you.” She ignored his near smirk and directed him to the mower. “Get down, Jerry. Show him how to operate the mower.”
Jerry’s eyes widened, preceding a grin. “Sure.” He hopped down and pointed to the German to get on. Leo hesitated only a moment, then seated himself on the machine. Jerry pointed out the levers and offered explanation with lots of hand motions. He did a good job.
Fannie turned at Corporal Taft’s approach. “We’re not supposed to let them near the machinery, ma’am.”
“Yes, I know, Corporal, but my brother needs a break. I’m not worried that they can cause any harm with you and me looking on. We have a full summer of work ahead. If I can train these men to do a few more tasks, it would help us tremendously.”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced back at the other guard. “I have my orders, ma’am.”
“Please, Corporal. You yourself promised me they’d be hard workers and that they weren’t dangerous.”
“I know. It’s just—”
She gripped his arm but quickly let go. “I’m not going to mention it if you don’t.”
He removed his cap and scratched his forehead. Then he tugged his cap back on. “I guess there’s no real harm in it as long as I can see what’s going on. Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” An internal voice told her she was being defiant for no good reason, yet it was true that it would help if they could swap jobs now and then. If Jerry could take the tractor while a prisoner operated the mower, she could take a break from driving too. Maybe by summer’s end, if they could be trusted enough, she’d give Leo a chance to drive the tractor he so admired.
She climbed aboard and glanced back. When Jerry gave her a thumbs-up, she started forward. She looked back a few times to see Jerry walking alongside and giving extra direction, but the man seemed to catch on pretty quickly. By the time she reached the end of the row, Jerry had gone off to ready the second wagon for loading, cheering on the crew on his way.
When she reached the end, she climbed down and met with the corporal again. Her mom was already standing beside him. “I’ll take this load with the new guard, Fannie. You and Jerry stay here with the others. If we’re not back by the time you get the wagon loaded, Patsy will have some fresh bread and apples to eat for a break. She’ll bring them out. There’ll be enough for everyone.” She gave Fannie a meaningful look.
Had her mother and Jerry connived to make the prisoners feel at home today? Or was it the same feeling that was sweeping over her, that they were in this thing together and would just have to make the best of it as long as it lasted?
“Okay. Anything else?”
Mom smiled. “No. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s going well.”
It was going well. There was no denying that. Even now, the men were pushing the empty wagon onto the field with their bare strength, no truck or tractor needed. To fill the load without a truck pulling the wagon was difficult. They had to detach the mower and hook up the wagon or else park the wagon midway up the field and haul the peas. That would be too tough a workout. Best start unhooking the mower.
