As soon as the shock of Finn’s imprisonment faded, Delia and Inga headed into town in search of the German pamphlet boasting of Finn’s capture. As a neutral country, the Netherlands allowed publications of propaganda from both sides of the war. Soon she had the terrible photograph in her hands. The dashing young man she had fallen in love with now looked defeated and destroyed as he slumped against a wall. She wanted to embrace him and soothe his fears, and at the same time she wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled.
They sat in the rooming house’s garden, where Inga translated the article for her, which of course was written in German. It claimed Finn had been caught sabotaging German supply lines. It wasn’t until after he’d been captured and brought to headquarters that the villain was recognized as Finn Delaney, the American pilot who had escaped from Belgium the previous year.
It was physically impossible for her to remain in cozy Rotterdam while Finn was being held in prison. It might not have been so bad if she hadn’t seen the photograph, but nobody with a beating heart could see the desolation in Finn’s eyes and remain unmoved.
“I’m going to Brussels,” she announced to Inga. She set the pamphlet on the garden table, where only a few hours earlier she’d been sharing a festive meal with the others. Enjoying the beauty of this peaceful garden felt like a betrayal of Finn.
“Won’t Bertie need you here in Rotterdam?”
Delia bit her lip. The entire reason she’d been brought to the Netherlands was because she was a skilled secretary knowledgeable about the CRB. But Inga was also a skilled secretary. She could step into Delia’s shoes and even provide translation services for Bertie if necessary.
“Could we swap places?” she asked Inga. “You’ll work for Bertiein Rotterdam while I accompany Benedict and Baron von Eschenbach to Brussels?”
A guarded look came over Inga’s face. “To what end?”
How could Delia explain? She shouldn’t abandon her post to go on a personal mission, but she had a better understanding of what had compelled Finn’s desire to rescue Mathilde. “I want to see Finn and let him know he hasn’t been abandoned or forgotten.” The last time she saw Finn was at the Port of New York, where she vowed never to forgive him if he left. That mustn’t be the last time he saw her on this earth. “Will they let me visit him in the prison?”
Inga looked skeptical. “Benedict was able to visit Allied prisoners in Germany, but that was because the United States was still neutral and he had a diplomatic pass.”
“Hestillhas a diplomatic pass,” Delia pointed out. “Perhaps I could accompany him as his secretary.”
“They may not let him through now that we’re at war,” Inga cautioned. “Do you want to go all the way to Brussels and take the risk of being turned away?”
Delia would risk anything to see Finn again. “Absolutely. If I have to walk through fire or crawl over broken glass, I’m going to find a way to get through to Finn.”
30
Finn braced his hands on the cold granite wall of his cell, standing on tiptoes to quietly speak through a rusty ventilation pipe near the ceiling. The pipe’s opening was about the size of a baseball, and it had become his lifeline, a conduit connecting him to Father Gerhardt in the neighboring cell.
“Are you still praying for our enemies?” Finn whispered in a sardonic tone.
“Of course,” the priest replied, his voice drifting softly through the pipe. If they spoke too loudly, it might alert the guards, and then Finn’s only source of joy in this dank, dark world would be snatched away.
“Doesn’t the Bible say that if your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat, and if he’s thirsty, give him water to drink?” Finn asked. “I’m still waiting for the Krauts to give us more food and water.”
“Perhaps they will if you stop referring to them asKrauts,” the priest gently reprimanded from the other side of the ventilation pipe.
These rambling conversations had been going on since the morning after Finn arrived, when he was awakened by a harshwhisper in the night.Is anybody there?the voice asked repeatedly in French, and it was tinged with hope.
That was the beginning of a friendship built on hushed exchanges through the pipe at the top of his cell wall. The camaraderie Finn shared with his fellow prisoner was a gift from God, a reminder that even the darkest of nights held a glimmer of good in them.
Father Gerhardt had been here ever since being arrested six months ago. He was born and raised in Germany but slipped across the border into Belgium to carry messages of reconciliation to the Belgians. “The German Army called it treason, but Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.’ I came to Belgium so that I might be a warrior for peace.”
Finn gave a cynical laugh. “I’m the other kind of warrior. The kind called to take up arms and drive the invaders back to where they belong. I couldn’t look the other way while the innocent suffered. It would be a betrayal of our duty to love our neighbor.”
They could debate such philosophical questions for hours. When he and Delia discussed the war, all they did was argue. Father Gerhardt was different. He tried to convince Finn through using kind, gentle words of wisdom. “Violence begets violence, Finn. Turning the other cheek is not weakness, but the greatest act of courage. Words can build bridges where bombs can only destroy.”
Finn pondered the priest’s words during his endless hours of captivity. Never had he needed Father Gerhardt’s companionship more than after learning of Mathilde’s execution. The bravest woman in all of Belgium had been shot to death by a firing squad, and it was entirely Finn’s fault.
As usual, Father Gerhardt had a unique angle for understanding what happened. “Finn, we cannot know the depths of God’s plan or why you and Mathilde were set on a path that collided in that muddy field. Mathilde’s sacrifice and your role in her life are threads woven into the tapestry of God’s greater design.The world is unfolding as it should. Mathilde fought the good fight, she has finished her race, and now she is with God as her reward.”
Though the priest’s wise counsel helped some, Finn still wanted revenge. He itched to escape his cell, hop back into an airplane, and bomb every German encampment in Belgium to smithereens.
Still, Father Gerhardt did help him with seeing the other side of the story. He was the only German friend Finn ever had, and listening to the old man talk about his life growing up in a small village was fascinating. Gerhardt came of age hiking in the Black Forest, fishing in its streams, and learning woodworking skills in the village’s cuckoo-clock workshops.
“My job was to carve wooden leaves and acorns to decorate the clocks,” Father Gerhardt reminisced. “I loved celebrating nature in the carvings because there is nowhere more beautiful than the forests of Germany.”
“Are they different from other forests?”
