Chapter 24

6 JULY 1942

HAVE LEAVE STARTING FRI STOP KARL

* * *

7th July 1942

Dear Karl,

I’ll be in London from Thursday on. Will you meet me there? I have a whole week off, and I’ll be staying with my parents. My brother is coming too. I haven’t seen him for a few years, but he shipped over last month . . .

I look forward to seeing you again.

Millie

* * *

Karl swallowed before knocking on the door to the Stevenses’ apartment. He’d met both of Millie’s parents before, briefly. They’d been gracious when Millie had invited him to breakfast at their flat in Zurich. Back then, he’d been a refugee the family had been willing to lend a hand to. Now he was courting their daughter, and he was even more determined to make a good impression. Family life had been so normal until the war had begun, something he’d taken for granted. Now the thought of not fitting in with a new family—Millie’s family—made his stomach churn and his palms itch.

A man in an American Air Corps lieutenant’s uniform opened the door. Karl had never seen him before, but he looked a bit like Millie. Same brown eyes, same intelligent expression. “Can I help you?” the man asked.

“I came to call on Miss Stevens.” Karl did his best to pronounce each letter correctly. “Did she make it down from Fenny Stratford?”

“Yeah, she showed up last night.” The man gave Karl a closer inspection. Maybe Karl shouldn’t have been worried about disapproval from Millie’s parents. He should have been worried about disapproval from Millie’s brother. “I guess you’re her sailor friend?”

Karl nodded. “And you’re her brother, the navigator?”

He almost cracked a smile. “Yeah, that’s me. Come on in.” He waved to a coat stand in the corner. “Feel free to hang your hat there.”

Karl complied, recognizing one of Millie’s hats and noting a Royal Navy cap, a Homberg, and two olive drab U.S. Army caps. He added his fedora, then followed Lieutenant Irving Stevens through the hallway.

Voices met Karl’s ears, growing more distinct. He wasn’t shy. He didn’t mind large groups. But this one . . . this one was different because he was desperate for Millie’s family to like him.

“Millie,” her brother called when he and Karl entered the room.

Millie sat in front of a low table near the room’s center. Her eyes met Karl’s, and a grin stretched across her face. She stood and hurried over to him, giving him an embrace despite the audience. “I was so hoping you would make it. How long do you have?”

“Almost as long as you do, I imagine. They’re fitting the Hillingdon with an Oerlikon cannon and cleaning the boilers. That will take a few days, and then the stevedores will need a few days after that.”

Mr. Stevens joined them and shook Karl’s hand. “Glad you could come, Mr. Eckerstorfer. Now I won’t be the only man not in uniform. Though I daresay you’ve seen more action the last year than the rest of us combined.”

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

“Let me introduce you to everyone.” Millie took Karl’s hand and led him around the room. “You’ve met my mother before.”

“Pleased to see you again, Mrs. Stevens.”

“And this is my brother, Irving. Who had better not have given you any trouble when he let you in.” Millie raised an eyebrow at her brother.

“Of course not.” Lieutenant Stevens grinned and shook Karl’s hand.

“Henry Bridger. Old family friend.”

Karl shook the man’s hand. Like Irving, he wore a lieutenant’s uniform but without the wings over his breast pocket.

“And my uncle Silas.”

Karl took a quick glance at the thick braid and sleeve curl on the man’s cuffs and decided he had better stick with a title rather than address him by his given name. “A pleasure to meet you, Admiral.”

“The same. What’s this action Glenn mentioned?”

Millie pulled her lips into a pout. “Karl just arrived. You can pester him with naval talk over supper, but not now.” She pulled Karl to the table covered with upside-down pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, then sat next to him on the couch, across from her mother and Lieutenant Bridger.

“Why are all the pieces upside down?” Karl asked.

Lieutenant Bridger chuckled. “Because Millie has already done the puzzle right-side up and thought a second attempt would be too easy.”

Mrs. Stevens tried a few pieces before finding a match on the border. Millie did the same, but she worked much more quickly.

“What does it look like on the other side?” Karl asked.

“A ship with sails.” Millie spread out a few pieces and studied them before grabbing the one she needed.

“Let’s get a new one. Something with airplanes.” Irving stood behind his mother, watching his sister work.

“You and airplanes.” Mr. Stevens shook his head. “The navy has airplanes, and the Stevenses and the Adamses are navy families. You broke tradition.”

Karl listened to it all. The chatter, the comradery, the gentle teasing. All the sounds of a family. The Langs had been torn apart before Anna and Ingrid could banter back and forth the way Irving and Millie did with their parents and uncle, but time spent with the family at Falcon Point hadn’t been so different. The chatter might have been made by younger siblings, but it held the same trust and love, the same feeling of belonging. He’d missed it.

Karl did what he could with the puzzle. Mostly, he just enjoyed the setting, so different from life at sea but familiar in its way.

He was asked to stay for supper, where he was seated between Millie and Admiral Adams. “All right, I’ve waited long enough,” Millie’s uncle said. “What’s this action Glenn mentioned?”

“I’m an ordinary seaman on the SS Hillingdon. On the SS Gracechurch before that. We’ve made a few voyages without seeing any U-boats or the damage they cause, but those are the exceptions, sir.”

Admiral Adams leaned back in his chair. “If you see me on the docks in Liverpool, it might be a different matter, but while you’re Millie’s guest, there’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ Now, tell me about those ships.”

Karl complied, giving Admiral Adams the size of the tramp steamers, the destinations of their voyages. He didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation, but Millie’s uncle kept asking questions, and the others seemed interested, even Millie, though she’d already heard most of it in letters.

“What was it like being torpedoed?” Irving asked from across the table.

Karl hesitated. “Well, I won’t lie. I was scared. In both cases, the ships sank slowly enough for everyone not killed in the explosion to get off. I’ve seen a lot of other crews who weren’t so lucky.”

“Both times?” Irving asked. “You’ve been torpedoed more than once?”

Millie broke in. “After the Gracechurch sank, he and one of his shipmates were picked up by the Loch Lomond. She was sunk the next morning.”

“I remember hearing about that.” Admiral Adams cut open his jacket potato. “She fell behind, didn’t she? Ships that fall behind tend to be picked off if there are U-boats anywhere near the convoy.”

“Yes, sir. She fell behind in order to rescue seventy-some sailors.”

“But lost her cargo.”

Karl almost held his tongue. Nearly everyone he’d sailed with had complained a time or two that politicians and admirals seemed to regard merchant seamen as expendable. Here was his chance to tell someone in the Royal Navy what it was like to be in a convoy that didn’t have proper protection. He didn’t want to make the evening awkward for Millie by getting into a debate with her uncle, but he owed it to his shipmates to tell the truth. “With all due respect to the navy, being part of a convoy wasn’t very helpful when it came to avoiding the U-boats on that voyage. We had escorts, but the wolf pack began its ravage when the ships were still in perfect alignment.”

“What good are the escorts, then?” Lieutenant Bridger set his utensils down.

“One of them picked us up after our second sinking,” Karl said.

“Other than the rescue aspect, do the convoys really work?” Lieutenant Bridger asked. “Seems like it concentrates an awful lot of the targets all in one place.”

“When you look at the numbers, the convoys most certainly do work.” Admiral Adams didn’t seem upset by Karl’s comment or Lieutenant Bridger’s question. “During the last war, 10 percent of unescorted ships were sunk, only 2 percent of ships in convoy. Some of the convoys run into trouble, but when we get an entire group of ships through safely . . .”

“And the escorts are getting better.” Karl would point out weaknesses when necessary, but he would dole out praise, too, when it was deserved. “Even when they don’t sink the U-boats, they can force them underwater. They’re significantly slower when submerged, and then the rest of the convoy can get ahead of them. Sometimes far enough away that they can’t catch up again. Airplanes do the same when they’re available. They can spot a U-boat and approach more quickly than she can dive.”

“My ship helped sink a U-boat in the last war,” Mr. Stevens broke in. “We considered it our greatest achievement.”

“I wish I could do that, fight back against them instead of being a target all the time.” Karl glanced at Admiral Adams. “I would have preferred to serve on a warship, but the Royal Navy doesn’t take enemy aliens, and the U.S. Navy wasn’t at war yet.”

“Well, the second of those facts has changed. And I’ve heard discussion about changing the first.”

“Really?” Karl put his fork down. “The Royal Navy would accept someone born in Austria?”

“It’s being debated. I could look into it, if you’re determined. We’ve already accepted German- and Austrian-born men trained in engineering and medicine.”

“Uncle Silas . . .” Millie started, then seemed unsure what to say. “I think our family has already pulled Karl into enough danger. Dad suggested he find a tramp steamer, and that led to the torpedoes.”

The rear admiral glanced at his niece, then at Karl. “Statistically, he’s significantly safer in the Royal Navy than in the Merchant Navy.”

“Maybe so.” Millie’s lips pressed together. “It just doesn’t seem like it when the papers focus more on the HMS Hood and the HMS Royal Ark than they do on all the ships sunk while in convoy.”

Millie was worried about him. It wasn’t surprising, given all he’d told her about his voyages, but either the worry was new, or she was getting less able to hide it. He’d noticed it in her letters too. The weight of the war—and his role it in—seemed to be getting heavier for her. He slipped one of his hands under the table and found hers. She gripped it firmly, as if by holding him she could somehow keep him away from the U-boats.

Mr. Stevens seemed to sense a growing tension and changed the subject. “What sort of work have they got you doing, Henry?”

“Paperwork, mostly. Nothing so dramatic as Mr. Eckerstorfer’s work or as exciting as Irving’s. The office wanted me because I speak Dutch.”

Mr. Stevens asked a few follow-up questions, and Mrs. Stevens drew her brother into a conversation.

Karl turned to Millie and kept his voice quiet. “What would you think of a change in assignment for me? Royal Navy instead of Merchant Navy?”

She shrugged.

“Millie?” Maybe he’d made her angry, because she didn’t normally shy away from sharing her opinion.

“It’s your decision, Karl. Not mine.”

“I think you’ve earned the right to have a say in my decisions.”

The smallest hint of a smile softened her lips. Had they been alone, he would have leaned in and kissed her. She must have had the same thought because she glanced at his mouth and her smile grew. “Perhaps it would be wise to discuss the pros and cons. Pro: statistically, you’d be safer.”

“Pro: I’d finally get to fight back, and I’m sick of being a target.”

Millie’s smile wasn’t quite so bright. “And the cons?”

“I’d have to say goodbye to my shipmates. And I’d lose the war-risk bonus. But pro: I’d be paid regularly, on shore or on ship. And con: I might be sent to the Pacific and see you even less. Or pro: I might see you more often with the right home port.”

Millie wove her fingers through his. “Whatever you decide, Karl, you’ll have my support.”

Karl thought about his options. All the possibilities of remaining in the Merchant Navy. All the possibilities of joining the Royal Navy, his original plan the first. He wanted to fight back. Few desires were stronger—maybe only his wish to find Ingrid and his yearning to keep Millie in his life.

Millie’s brother broke Karl’s train of thought. “Henry and I are heading to a dance over in Piccadilly. Nancy’s tagging along. Want to join us?”

Karl looked to Millie. She gave a small nod. “We’d be happy to,” he said.

Millie finished off her glass of water. “Best keep an eye on your sister, Henry. She gets all wobbly-kneed around men in uniform.”

Irving brushed imaginary dust from his uniform. “Are there a lot of women like that in London?”

Lieutenant Bridger chuckled. “Enough, I imagine.”

Mrs. Stevens gave her son a reproving look, but her husband smiled. “They have hardships aplenty to deal with. Let them enjoy a little fun,” he said.

As supper ended, Karl turned to Admiral Adams. “Sir, if you’re willing to inquire about getting me into the Royal Navy, I’d be grateful. I want to be the one dropping depth charges instead of the one being targeted through a periscope.”