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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Gypsy Moon
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Each night she lay awake, asking herself,
Why am I so upset? It’s all over.
And yet she could not put Erik out of her mind, which bothered her so much she almost forgot about the proposal, such as it was, from Karel Citroen.

Finally, on Thursday, she wrote the order for Erik to be discharged. As she went from one ward to the next, she was surprised to encounter Erik in the hallway, fully dressed and in his uniform. She had not seen him in a Nazi uniform, and the sight of it sent a cold chill through her.

His face, however, seemed to blot out that sight. He smiled and came to stand in front of her. “You don’t take very good care of your patients, Doctor.”

“Why do you say that, Herr Commandant?”

“Herr Commandant! Not Erik?”

“We’re very formal in this hospital.”

“I see that.”

She stood for a moment, aware that he was studying her face. “I won’t be here long, Gabby. I’ll be going to the front soon. General Bruno Rahn will be in charge of the occupation forces. He’s been ill but should be here soon.”

“I see. You must be very careful. You were very fortunate that the bullet missed your lung.”

“I know I was lucky, and I had good care. You’re an excellent doctor, Gabby.” He waited for her reply, but when she was silent, he went on, “I would like to see you sometime. Perhaps we could have dinner.”

“That wouldn’t be wise, Erik.” Feeling the need to bring closure to her relationship with this tall, handsome man she had once had such strong feelings for, she said, “What we had is over.”

“Love is never over. You know, since I’ve been here, I’ve been thinking of a poem that I memorized when I was just a boy in school.”

“What poem is that?”

“I’m sure you know it. By the Scottish poet Burns.” He spoke slowly, his eyes fixed on her.

“O my luve’s like a red, red rose,

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my luve’s like the melodie,

That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

“I always think of you when I remember those lines, Gabby.”

She dropped her eyes. “You mustn’t say those things to me, Erik. I must go.” She turned and went into the next ward, and as she did, she was protesting with all the vehemence of her spirit,
I can’t feel anything for him. It’s all over! It has to be!

CHAPTER TEN

An Unusual Picnic

Gabby had just finished her rounds at the hospital when Betje tracked her down.

“Do you have a free moment, Gabby?”

“Of course. Let’s get some cold tea and go outside.”

The two women got some tea from the kitchen and found seats on an iron bench under a spreading chestnut tree. The branches threw a welcome shade over the bench. As soon as they sat down, Betje said, “I suppose you’re surprised to see me here.”

“A little bit, but I’m glad. How have you been, Betje?”

“All right.” The answer was weak, and her usually merry eyes were sober. She took a sip of her tea. “You know what I’ve been doing.”

“About the underground? Yes, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s the Jews who are in trouble. They’re killing them like flies in concentration camps. It’s a sure death for them to go there.”

“We don’t actually know that. That is, we don’t have proof.”

“A few have miraculously gotten away. They say the Nazis are working them to death in slave labor camps. Those who can’t work are being beaten and shot by firing squads. As for families, they tear children from their parents, husbands from wives. They’re monsters!”

A floppy-eared hound of mottled mustard colors came
loping across the yard, catching their attention. They watched as he chased a squirrel into a small grove of trees to the north of the hospital. When the yard was quiet again, Betje asked, “Have you heard about Saul Nimitz and his family?”

Instantly, Gabby grew alert. Nimitz had been her favorite professor at the university in Amsterdam. He was a brilliant man, warmhearted, always willing to help, and she had always been grateful to him for his assistance. She had been in his home and knew his wife, Irma, and their children, Sarah and Aaron.

“What’s happened to them? Are they ill?”

“No, but I learned they’re going to be picked up by the Nazis.”

For a moment Gabby could not speak. Her throat seemed to close as she thought of the happy times she had enjoyed in their home. “I can’t believe it. He’s not political at all.”

“He’s a Jew. That’s all that matters.”

“How’d you find out about this?”

“We have a cleaning woman who’s a member of our covert cell group. Gretchen keeps her ears open as she does the cleaning. You’d be surprised how a person like that becomes almost invisible. The Germans don’t think about a cleaning woman being a member of the underground. If they caught her, they’d kill her instantly.”

Gabby sat utterly still as she tried to digest the information. “We’ve got to do something!” she said vehemently. “We’ve got to get them out of here.”

Betje laughed. “I came here wondering how to convince you of that, and here you are ready for anything.” She leaned forward onto her elbows. “You’re like two women—one very careful and cautious, backing off from anything involving the emotions, but underneath that there’s a fiery rebel. I’m glad to see it.”

“Never mind me. What about Saul and Irma and the children?”

“They’ve got to get out before this weekend, but I can’t
figure out how. It’s not as easy as it once was, Gabby. The Germans have placed a line of guards around the city. Nobody can get in or out without a pass.”

“Where would they go if we
could
get them out?”

“A fisherman would take them to England. The Germans are smart enough but stupid in some ways. The fishing boats go out every morning. The guards don’t count them. So if we could get the Nimitz family to one of the canals, their boat could mingle with the other boats. Twenty-two fishing boats would go out and twenty-one would come back. They’d never know the difference.”

“All right, I’ll help.” She tapped her fingernails on the bench while a plan began to form in her mind. “As a matter of fact, I believe I might even know a way that would work.”

“It’s got to be nearly foolproof. They’ll shoot you if they catch you, Gabby.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Fear has nothing to do with it. I need to do the right thing. You know, I think if Jesus were here, He would have been a member of the underground.”

Betje laughed. “That almost makes me want to become a Christian.” She got up and said, “I’ll keep in touch. Think through your plan from every angle. I’m counting on you.”

From that moment on, Gabby knew her life would never be the same. Up till now she had avoided any thoughts of joining the underground, determined as she was to continue her work as a physician and keep herself available to the orphanage and the sick. But as of July 14, 1940—as she later recorded in her journal—she knew she was going to have to do much more.

****

Gabby was hungry when she left the hospital that evening, and she did not fancy going home and cooking, so she stopped at one of the cafés. She had become fond of a small
place called La Belle époque. It had only eight tables and a six-stool counter, and the room was decorated in turn-of-the-century decor. The food was not expensive and very good. She gave the waitress her order—sauerkraut with bacon and sausages—and sat back to let the fatigue seep out of her.

She closed her eyes for just a moment and opened them to see Erik Raeder walk through the door. He came straight to her table and smiled. “May I join you?”

Actually, Gabby didn’t think that was a good idea, for it was not smart for a Dutch woman to be seen with a German officer. But she had little choice, so she nodded and said, “Of course.”

“You wouldn’t go out with me, so I followed you,” he said. “I know it puts you in a bad position, but I had to see you, Gabby.”

“Why don’t you order something, Erik?”

“All right. What do you recommend? What are you having?” She told him what she was having, and he told the waitress he would have the same.

He ordered wine, and when the bottle was brought, he offered her some. When she refused, he smiled. “Still no alcohol, eh?”

“That’s right.”

“You don’t change, do you, Gabby?”

“Of course I change. Everybody does.” As she studied him, she saw that he was even better looking than she’d remembered. He was aging well, and she had to admit that the Nazis knew how to design uniforms. The perfect fit revealed his muscular build nicely. He was tanned, and his eyes were clear. “Your wound doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

“Not a bit. I had an excellent doctor.” He sipped his wine as the waitress set Gabby’s plate of food down in front of her. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll catch up when mine comes.”

“I am hungry,” she said. “It’s been a long day.” She ate, enjoying the spicy food, and when he asked about the hospital, she told him about several cases. He also inquired about
the orphanage, and she wasn’t surprised that he knew about her movements.

“Erik, I wish you would help. If you could do anything for the orphanage, I’d appreciate it.”

“Why, of course. Help in what way?”

“The supplies are being cut way back, and the children are suffering. They don’t need to be punished like this. They are innocent.”

“Of course. I will see to it at once that things are better.”

“Thank you very much.”

Erik’s meal came, and he ate heartily. After they had finished, he continued to drink his wine while she drank strong black coffee.

“Gabby, do you hate me?” he asked quietly.

She looked up and saw that he was totally serious.

“Of course not. Why do you say such a thing?”

“We are hated, we Germans. I regret it.”

She could not think of a reply. “I don’t like what’s happening. I think Germany could do so much, but the people running the country are being misled.”

“I know that’s what you think, and I’ve told you before, there are things I don’t like about some of the leadership. Some of us are protesting. Right now events are moving to change things.”

Gabby had learned enough about Adolf Hitler to know that Erik was dreaming. Hitler, in her mind, was a maniac, and she had told her great-aunt, “If ever a man was filled with demons, it’s Adolf Hitler.” She said none of this, however, for it would be useless and could put her in serious danger. The Nazis did not tolerate people who spoke out against Hitler. She still could not believe how clearly she remembered the good times she and Erik had had together.

Suddenly, he asked, “Do you remember when we were skiing and I fell down?”

“Yes, of course I remember.”

“You came over and thought I was hurt. I pulled you down in the snow with me and kissed you.”

Her cheeks grew flushed. “I remember that too.”

“Do you, Gabby?” He reached over and took her hand before she could move and held hers firmly. “I’ve forgotten nothing.”

“But I suspect you’ve had other girlfriends since then.”

“They meant nothing. I’ve never been able to forget you, Gabby.”

She hesitated. She did not know how to speak to this man any longer. It bothered her that she still thought of him, of his caresses, and she tried to change the subject. She finally said quietly, “Those days were in another world, Erik.”

“It’s the same world. The political climate has changed, but some things never change. Love never changes. I’ve collected poems that say what’s in my heart about you—that love never changes.”

“I don’t understand you, Erik. You’re a soldier engaged in a terrible war, but there’s something better in you than that. Something finer.”

“I’m glad you think so. I don’t want you to hate me, Gabby.”

She pulled her hand back, and he released it.

“Have you heard from the Burkes?” he asked.

“No, I think the occupation forces have stopped the mail.”

“If you want to write to them, I will see that the letter reaches them.”

“That would be kind. Thank you.”

Gabby rose, and Erik rose with her. He looked tall and strong in his uniform, and a pang went through Gabby as she thought,
He could be so good. How can men like him give themselves to be the tools of Hitler’s evil designs?
“Good night,” she said as they walked toward the door.

“I’m going to ask you out again.”

“Please don’t, Erik.”

“I’m a determined man. I don’t give up easily. Good night, Gabby.”

She got in her car and drove home. She was shaken by the incident and knew that Erik had spoken the truth. He was a determined man, and it was painfully obvious that he still had deep feelings for her. “I can’t let this go on,” she murmured. “I’ve got to do something to let him know that we can never be together.”

****

Betje looked around the room, which was no more than a cellar at the hospital where old equipment was kept. The cell group met there sporadically, never on a regular schedule, but Betje had felt it was necessary this time. She glanced around, her eyes touching on Jan ten Boom, a small, average-looking man with brown hair. He was in his midtwenties and loved practical jokes. He was fond of girls and wrote the most horrible poetry that Betje had ever read, but he was a key member of the team. He looked absolutely innocent, but underneath his jovial manner lay a sharp mind. Next to Jan was Gretchen Holtzman, a sixty-two-year-old woman who cleaned for the Germans and kept the group posted on bits of information she picked up. Across the room sat Groot Dekker, a huge older farmer, and Gottfried Vogel, almost as large. Vogel was a pharmacist and a man with a fiery temper who needed watching. The final member was Karel Citroen, the pastor. He did not seem to fit in with the group, but Betje had learned, despite her antagonism toward Christianity, that he was a man of iron convictions and had been very helpful in their clandestine work.

“What’s up, Betje?” Jan said. “I’ve got a date. I can’t stay here long.”

“Your date can wait, Jan,” Betje said with a smile. “I’ve got a date too, but we needed to meet. We’ve got to do something about the Nimitz family.”

BOOK: The Gypsy Moon
11.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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