TWENTY-NINE
Newsflash: April 30th, 1945.
Adolph Hitler is dead. Russian forces were outside the Chancellery in Berlin when the Fuhrer shot himself. His staff found him dead alongside the body of Eva Braun, whom he had married two days previously, and who had already killed herself by taking poison.
It was VE Day—Victory in Europe—when Germany signed the surrender in a schoolhouse in Rheims, and the world celebrated. In Sydney the streets were packed with strangers hugging and dancing. Harbour ferries flew flags and tooted in triumph. In London, crowds assembled in front of Buckingham Palace and in New York they filled Times Square.
In the Cowra POW camp, where there had been several Italian peace treaties claimed but rejected, word spread that Italy’s war was over at last. After four years captivity for many, they could go home. However none of them knew it would take a vast armada of boats to transport them, or how protracted the process would be.
Carlo rejoiced with Walt and a studio full of friends, then later walked to the house where he knew Winifred would be waiting.
“Couldn’t have you celebrating alone, Win.” He opened a bottle of local wine he’d brought, while she selected two crystal goblets from a cabinet.
“Here’s to peace,” she said. “I’d begun to wonder if I’d live to see it.”
“To peace.” They touched glasses and drank the toast.
“Did she ring you?” Win asked.
He shook his head. He’d tried to phone her, but it was hopeless.
“The whole world seemed to be ringing each other. No doubt the air force are all celebrating. I know the trainees in the camp near us are going crazy.”
He’d passed the camp where he’d seen local girls rushing to join the wild revelries. In a moment of alarm his imagination ran to Julia being enticed by airmen in their smart uniforms with fighter pilot’s wings. It was a day for sexual adventures, nearly five years of war ended, millions dead, and the lucky survivors free to grab some pleasure. Someone who looked like Julia…she’d surely be the first target of the bloody airborne warriors.
He realised that Great-aunt Winifred had picked up her lorgnette as if to study him more carefully.
“The trouble with most creative people is their overworked imaginations, Carlo. It puts all kinds of nonsensical fancies into their minds. You’re worried about her being caught up in a few days of this frivolity.”
“I’m not,” he tried to protest.
“Of course you are,” she retorted. “You’d be a cold fish if you weren’t, and you’re not that. Just a hot-blooded Romeo concerned for his Juliet.”
He smiled at that. “I personally always felt Romeo was a bit of a dill.”
“So did I,” she said, making him laugh.
“But I do miss being able to share this day with her. Or even just talk to her.” He didn’t tell Win that when at last he’d found a free phone box and managed to reach the base and ask for her, a fairly drunken male voice had said she was too busy having fun and hung up before he could answer.
“Why don’t you have another glass of this nice wine and let me try,” she suggested.
She filled his goblet to the brim and went to the phone where she had the number of aircrafts woman Sherman J., and all the details written down. When the phone was answered she used an authoritative voice to announce herself.
“Just tell her this is her Great-aunt Winifred. I’m ninety two years old and at my age I hope not to be kept waiting for too long. Thank you, young man.” There was a startled pause. “Oh, you’re the Commander. I do beg your pardon, Wing Commander Curtis. Very kind of you to say so. Yes, I’ll hold.”
She smiled at Carlo. “I got the Big Cheese. The senior fromage himself. How about that!” Carlo raised the brimming goblet and drank half of it to toast her. By that time Win had made contact, urgently beckoning him and busily talking.
“Julia darling, Happy Peace Day in Europe, or whatever they’re going to call it. I’m well, my love. And you? Going crazy trying to get him? I’m sure he’s been going nuts trying to get you. Just a moment, darling, I think I’m about to sneeze…”
She handed the receiver to Carlo.
“She’s not sneezing. We’re going to empty a bottle of wine and talk of how much we miss you.”
“Carlo!” It was a joyous shout that made his heart accelerate.
“I’ve given your Aunt Win a new title. She’s another wonder woman. Chatted up the Group Commander and got through to you. I tried earlier and was more-or-less told to bugger off.”
“I heard you’d rung. Some drongo hung up, so I was trying to call you back.”
“A drongo, was he. I thought so.”
‘You know what drongo means?”
“I do, my darling. He sounded very drongo-ish to me.”
“I wish you were here, Carlo,” she said.
“So do I. It’s a day we’ll remember as long as we live. We should be sharing it.”
“That’s not my only reason. I wish you were here to tell you how much I love you.”
“You do?” He could hardly say the words, the rush of emotion made him feel breathless and close to tears with sheer happiness.
“I really do.” There was a pause. “Are you there, Carlo?”
“I’m here. Will you say it again?
“I love you. I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks, but I hoped we’d be together, wrapping our arms around each other when I did. And I have more news.”
“That’s the best news I’ve ever had.”
“Wait for this bit. I might be there soon. I’m trying for an accelerated discharge so I can be there for your birthday on June the tenth, when you turn twenty-six. I want that to be the start of our life together.”
He gave the phone to Win a few moments later and when he sat down his eyes were moist. He watched her speak for a few more minutes, then hang up. She refilled Carlo’s glass, gave herself a tiny refill and sat down beside him.
“Happy?” He nodded, but she looked puzzled. “Why the tears?”
“It’s never happened before. I think it’s inherited from my mother. At moments of great happiness she cries. When I painted her portrait the first time at the age of thirteen, she liked it so much she sobbed and couldn’t drive the car.” He was torn between laughter at the absurdity of this and the tears that moistened his face. “This is the best day of my life. She loves me.”
“Of course she does. She loved you months ago. I wanted her to tell you then, but she was intent on waiting. Determined to make sure this time that it was for real.”
“One promise, Win. Please don’t tell her I was so happy that I sat and bawled my eyes out.”
“She’d be flattered. Thrilled.”
“I’d look such a goose.”
“I don’t think so. But if you insist, I promise I’ll keep it a secret that your tears watered our wine. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to help me finish the bottle, so I can tell people that you and I got nicely sloshed together on Victory in Europe Day.”
There was an air of confusion in the camp during the next two weeks, with many of the Italians demanding to be repatriated. The most heated were the small group of right-wing extremists, still stunned by the killing and public display of Mussolini’s corpse in Milan. Some were insisting they be sent home in the hope they could join a new faction his survivors had started, unaware fascism was now repugnant. The exposure of the death camps, the cold and murderous extermination of so many million Jews, had appalled the world. Nazis were being rounded up and held in prison for the Nuremberg Trials as war criminals. Those with enough money and contacts fled to refuge in South America.
Carlo felt detached from these world events; he spent the fortnight in a state of quiet happiness that he’d not believed possible, and each day woke with the thought it was another sunrise closer to being with her. Each few days he sent her a brief letter enlivened by a loving drawing, or the pair of them in a cartoon. She wrote back making plans to be in Cowra by June the 10th. That day began to assume all kinds of significance: his birthday, exactly five years since Italy entered the war and he’d been deprived of his scholarship, and the day by which she hoped to be free from the WAAAF. She would come to Cowra and Major Morton would surely free him for a few weeks, so they could drive to Griffith and make plans. VE Day might signify Victory in Europe, she wrote to Carlo, but LC Day will be our own Love in Cowra Day.
And then, just two weeks before this, something happened that made all their romantic plans impossible.