Prologue

From Johanna Berglund to Charles Donohue, attorney-at-law

January 26, 1945

Dear Mr. Donohue,

If I were an expert in criminal law, I’d be sick to death of outraged clients claiming to be falsely accused, and especially of weepy female clients wringing their hands and saying things like, “How could it have come to this?” Which is why I deliberately avoided any of that in our initial meeting, though it occurred to me later that I might have come across as cold or detached.

So allow me to say thank you for agreeing to take my case. I’m aware that representing a civilian charged with involvement in prisoner-of-war–related crimes is a complicated affair.

The following file contains all of the documents I’ve gathered related to the incidents at Camp Ironside this past year, arranged by date received. I wasn’t sure what would be of use, so I’ve sent everything, including some information that might, at first glance, seem incriminating.

Many of the letters I translated for censoring and for the camp records had carbon copies, and the Ironside Broadside archives have been helpful as well. Quite a few of the people I wrote to had other reasons for keeping my letters to them—Brady McHenry saves all correspondence to the newspaper office because he’s paranoid about being sued for libel; Pastor Sorenson hasn’t thrown away anything larger than a Doublemint gum wrapper since the start of the Great Depression; and Peter . . . well, his reasons should be obvious as you read on.

In assembling this collection, I’ve found that every letter has two messages: the one written on the lines and the one written between them. Both are necessary to give a full picture of what really happened during my employment at the camp.

This morning I was seized by a sudden, crazed instinct to burn every last page instead of giving them to you. I even opened my nearly brand-new Acme Tires matchbook—only one match missing; you’ll get to the significance of that later—and pictured these papers curling into shriveled black ashes. Not because I’m afraid their contents will condemn me, but because they will reveal me, every detail of my personal life made public.

Since I gathered up enough common sense to present you this paper trail undestroyed and complete, I hope you’ll agree that it provides evidence to clear me of any wrongdoing. I am innocent, no matter what the outcry surrounding this case has led people to believe.

No, I should clarify. Years of reciting “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” with the rest of the congregation every Sunday has trained me. I am guilty. I know that with certainty after reading these letters again. Guilty of selfishness and bitterness and foolish, reckless pride. Guilty of hurting the people I love the most.

But not guilty of treason.

I want others to know the truth. Not the newspapers and their readers across the country, eager for a spy scandal. Just the people closest to me: Dad and Mother. The Sorensons. Peter. I hope, whatever the judge decides, that they can forgive me for all of the hurt I’ve caused, starting years before the first piece of evidence.

Now I just need to forgive myself.

In any case, thank you for the book of legal terms and procedures. I read it cover to cover and now consider myself fluent in seven languages, including jurisprudence. Memorizing vocabulary is at least one thing I’m unfailingly good at.

Please let me know if you have any questions about the enclosed as I prepare my testimony.

Johanna Berglund