Mitch closed his eyes. The whistle of the approaching bomb pierced his eardrums. The others in the shelter screamed.
The ground shook and the upstairs windows rattled.
God, save us!
Then silence.
He counted to ten and started to breathe, then dared to open his eyes. He wrenched his arm from Audra’s embrace. She resisted. The pressure of her touch reassured him that he wasn’t dreaming.
Or dead.
He wilted in relief, his arms and legs going weak.
The others lifted their heads. A little at a time, they began to speak. They laughed and patted each other on the back. “We’re alive.”
Audra leaned against his chest. “We almost died.” Her green eyes filled with tears.
“Almost.”
Annelies whimpered in the background.
Audra batted her just-about-white eyelashes. “You protected us.”
He sat back from her, steadying her with his hand, which he released as soon as she straightened. “Nein. Only God did.”
“Where did it land?” Gisela, sitting on the bed across from him with the girls, spoke in his direction but didn’t look into his eyes.
“Very close. In the garden, perhaps. Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”
Gisela leaned toward him. “Nein. Don’t you go out there. If it was a bomb, it could explode at any time.”
He switched to English, not knowing the German for what he needed to say. “If it made it from the plane to the ground without going off, it’s not likely to do so anytime soon. Just as a precaution, let me see what landed next to us.”
She shot nervous glances at the girls and at him. Hurt and uncertainty colored her face.
“Stay here. I will be fine, I promise.”
Kurt commandeered the spot next to her. “Ja, stay here with me and you will be safe.”
Mitch’s shoulders tensed. He turned and took the stairs two at a time and was soon blinking in the sunlight. The day was warm and calm.
He climbed over piles of rubble. He crept around the corner of the building, staying low, ready to hit the ground at any instant if the bomb should explode. Not that he would have a chance to react. And there, in the garden, a giant crater gaped where potatoes and cabbages had grown. Stepping lightly, going a few paces closer, he saw the tail fins of the bomb. The body of it was as large as a man’s torso.
The real deal.
Thank You, Lord.
If this shell had detonated as intended, there would be ten dead people in the building’s shelter.
His knees wavered and he sank to the ground, trembling.
Images of the carnage this bomb could have delivered slashed through his mind like a picture show. The blood in his veins turned to ice.
He hadn’t stopped it like Audra gave him credit for. Nothing he did prevented the tragedy. He sat helpless in the basement, awaiting the end.
But it hadn’t come.
“Why?” The word echoed in the soft breeze.
No sooner had the thought escaped his lips than he knew the answer.
God.
Only God.
Only Him.
He spared their lives. He watched over them all the way from the POW camp in East Prussia, through Danzig, and their days in Berlin. In fact, God had allowed the Germans to capture Mitch so he would spend the bulk of the war far from harm.
The warmth of God’s presence flooded him and he shrugged off his jacket, looking to the heavens. “You are here, Lord, aren’t You?”
A breeze tickled the back of his neck and a ray of sun warmed his face.
On his own, he was as useless as a puff of air against a brick building. It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. God had his life under His control.
Even if this bomb in front of him had discharged, God would have kept him safe and delivered Mitch to his heavenly home.
In the recesses of his mind, he heard his father’s voice reading the Bible the night before he left home. Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.
He could hear the pop of the fire on the hearth and smell his father’s cigar. I learned these verses from Psalm 61 when I fought in the Great War.” His large hand caressed the Bible page. “You would do well to remember them, no matter what happens in your life.”
These words from his father were wise. Whether or not they agreed about the course Mitch’s life should take, his father had Mitch’s best interest at heart. He didn’t want his son to experience the hardships of war. He knew them well enough. All too well.
Mitch sat on the ground, head in his hands, for a long while, enjoying the feeling of peace and contentment. He had done the best he could under the worst of conditions in Belgium and France. No one knew where to go. No one saw the panzers coming.
And in the heat of battle, God had kept most of his chums alive. Captured, facing hardship, but breathing. If they had been able to return to England and then back to the battlefield, how many of them would be alive today? Perhaps not any of them.
An object blocked out the sun, cooling Mitch’s back. He turned and Gisela stood behind him. He hadn’t heard her coming.
“What are you doing?”
He stood, his legs cramped. He stretched his muscles. “That is a bomb, no doubt, but it never exploded.”
“A dud.”
“Yes, a dud. God sent us a dud.”
Gisela stared at the rusty-looking metal bomb. “Wow.” That was the only word her tumultuous brain could conjure.
“That’s a good word for it.”
“We came so close to dying.” Dying. She should be dead now. A tremor passed through her body.
“Very close. But God took care of us. He is the one who delivered us.”
“A poor bomb maker in the Soviet Union delivered us.”
“No, God did. What could you and I have done to prevent this shell from detonating?”
She studied the small crater. Mitch had a point. “Nothing. We were helpless.”
“Don’t you see? God is the one who, as the hymn says, brought us safely thus far.” In the midst of the battle, the heartbreak and sorrow, he lifted his beautiful tenor voice.
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
was blind, but now I see.
’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
and grace my fears relieved;
how precious did that grace appear
the hour I first believed.
She joined him, adding her alto harmony.
Through many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
’tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
and grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me,
his word my hope secures;
he will my shield and portion be,
as long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
and mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
a life of joy and peace.
They had come a long way. A very long way, through many trials and peril. “He has, hasn’t He?”
“Do you know this in your head or in your heart?”
She didn’t have an answer for that question. “We have no guarantee that we will live to see our liberation. No promise that you will ever see England again, or that I will see America. No assurance that you and Audra will get married.”
He scrunched his dark eyebrows. “What? Married?”
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. I don’t understand what you just said.”
“You do.”
“I really don’t.”
“Listen, we need to let the rest of the people in the cellar know about your discovery. We can finish talking about this later.” Much, much later.
Although Mitch continued looking puzzled, they went inside together. He stopped her in the front hall. “Think about what I said. You and I have been so busy trying to make up for past wrongs, but we can’t. God forgives. He protects. He gives life and takes it away.”
It sounded so simple, to absolve herself of her guilt that way.
But she couldn’t shake the truth that she had abandoned her cousins when they needed her most. And Opa and Ella and Herr Holtzmann. And Mutti. She had failed so many.
The next three days passed in a haze. The shelling in the nearby suburbs was constant.
The Soviets had the city surrounded.
The noose tightened.
The basement filled with people grew stuffy and confining. They had moved the couch, the kitchen table and chairs, and another bed downstairs. They lived here, ate here, slept here. Gisela was boxed in. The old women chatted about Paris and London and New York without ceasing. Where in the world they went on holiday changed on any given day. Any given moment.
Audra clung to Mitch. Kurt continued to sidle up to Gisela. With Mitch ensnared in Audra’s clutches, perhaps she should turn her attention to the German soldier. He had never been unkind to her and had always been attentive.
Just the thought of Mitch made her heart thrum as if she had run a marathon.
It didn’t kick up even a notch around Kurt. In time, could she love him, or would she always think of the British soldier with longing?
She studied Kurt’s angular profile, handsome in a very Aryan way. Then she caught a glimpse of Mitch, his dimples creasing his face. Goose bumps broke out over her arms.
Renate crawled on her lap and stroked her cheek in the way children have. “Why sad, Tante Gisela?”
“Oh yes, dearie, you should not be sad when in Copenhagen. This is such a cosmopolitan city.” Bettina waved her hands in front of her face. “And the food is the best in the world. Listen to the band striking up a tune. It makes me want to dance.”
Mitch caught Bettina’s wrist and kept her in her seat. “That’s not music. For now, you had better stay here. We can dance later.”
“We can dance here.” Bettina pulled Annelies to her feet. “This dance hall is nice enough. Let me show you how to do the fox-trot.”
The little girl giggled as she made a clumsy attempt to follow Bettina’s zigzagging steps. Annelies stepped on her partner’s toes more often than not.
Gisela pinched her nose to keep from crying. Mutti and Vater had waltzed like they were gliding across the floor. It was magical to watch them. Oh, that they might come home.
Renate bounced on Audra’s lap. “Me too. I want to dance.”
Katya rose to oblige the child. “I hope you are a better dancer than that other girl.”
Renate nodded, solemn as could be. “I dance good.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
Gisela couldn’t help but laugh as Renate did more hopping than dancing. Her laughter died when she noticed the way Audra stared at Mitch. Without words, she was inviting him to dance.
Katya paused in the middle of humming a tune. “You do dance very well, even though you could be a bit taller.”
Across the room, Jorgen slumped in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. She thought that once she rescued him from standing sentry, he would open up and blossom. Instead, he hunkered on the hard bench, face downcast all of the time. He had said not more than two or three words since he arrived.
Gisela slapped her thighs and went to him, holding out her hand. “Will you dance with me?”
He shook his head.
She shifted her weight to her left foot and tapped her right. “Dance with me. A man shouldn’t leave a woman sitting alone during a waltz.”
Again Jorgen refused.
She lowered herself on the bench beside him and he scooted over. “Why won’t you join in the fun?”
The artillery fire picked up in intensity, a brief spurt of machine guns.
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s not a reason. My mutti never accepted that answer from me.”
He pivoted to face her, his blue eyes blazing. “You aren’t my mutti.”
“I know that.”
“She will be mad that you took me away. Mutti said I had to protect the Fatherland and Herr Hitler.”
“You didn’t want to sit out there with that gun.”
“I don’t want to be in trouble. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Gisela rubbed his back, afraid he would pull away. He didn’t. “The Russians will be here in a day or two. Then it won’t matter. It will be over and you can go home to your mutti. That is a gift I don’t have.”
His shoulders relaxed and the grimacing mask he wore melted away. The hard soldier persona left and he was a boy again.
“Now, come and dance and have a little bit of fun.”
Gisela grabbed him by the hand and led him to the makeshift dance floor. He moved like a wooden toy soldier, but when Annelies and Renate fell to the floor in a puddle of giggles, a smile raced across his face.
Kurt came to her side and held out his hand. No smile crossed his hard features. “I am afraid I cannot hold you properly, but would you care to dance?”
And what could she say to that? Turn him down and hurt his feelings? He made the best of his disability and she didn’t care to crush him. No matter how uncomfortable he made her. “I don’t dance well.”
“Neither do I, so it will matter not if I step on your toes.”
She acquiesced and he pulled her a little too close to himself for a ballroom dance. They moved across the concrete floor, a cross between gliding and stumbling. Audra and Mitch sailed past them with pro-like grace.
Gisela shivered. She didn’t glance into Mitch’s chocolate eyes. To see his love for Audra written there would be worse than the pain from her blisters.