The nun’s hand fluttered to her veil. “Yes, of course. Go for now, and when you come back next week, Ethel, I’ll have the temporary papers ready for Franz.”
Anke rode in Bert’s arms with Franz clutching Ethel’s hand as they all headed home.
When Bert unlocked the front door to their second-floor apartment, there was a white teddy bear with a red bow sitting in the recliner. Anke rushed over to the bear and crushed it to her chest.
“Do you like it?” Ethel sat down in the chair and held Anke in her arms. Then she played a game of peekaboo with the bear, much to Anke’s delight. Her peals of laughter made Ethel’s heart swoon.
“Come on in, son,” Bert said, his hand on Franz’s back. Unlike Anke, Franz took timid steps around the living room with his eyes darting over the television set, sofa, and coffee table. The transistor radio seemed to catch his attention, and he meandered to where it sat on the bookshelf in the corner. Before touching it, he looked at Bert, who nodded encouragingly. “Let me show you how this works.” Bert turned the dial, and when German folk music cranked out, Franz threw his hands up.
“You like this?” Bert said. “Let me see you dance,” and he tapped his toes and snapped his fingers until the children imitated his movements.
Franz stomped and twirled, and Anke abandoned the bear and shook her hips. Ethel sat watching until Bert reached for her and pulled her to her feet. The four of them held hands and danced around the living room in a circle.
The Gatherses lived in a two-bedroom apartment, and Ethel had converted the spare room into a bedroom for Anke. All week she had dashed between the homes of the Negro Wives of Mannheim, picking up secondhand items. Pink drapes hung from the window, and she had spread a frilly comforter over the twin-size bed. Once the kids were settled with snacks and coloring sheets, Bert ran over to the barracks to see if he could secure a cot for Franz.
While Ethel prepared the sauce for chicken à la king, she heard Bert lugging in the camp bed with Franz quickly at his side. As the two rearranged the bedroom to make space for Franz, Ethel and Anke made a game of setting the table.
Over dinner, Bert said, “Once we have the official adoption papers, I can put in for a larger place. The kids sharing a room will work for now, but long term, they’ll need more space.”
Ethel nodded.
“Are you happy, darling?”
“Don’t I look it?” She smiled back. “After all this time. We finally did it. It’s not the way I pictured it, but the Lord sure works in mysterious ways.”
When Ethel climbed into her own bed that night, she was so giddy from her day that sleep eluded her. She thought back to her hands on the grotto at the shrine of Lourdes and the words she had heard. Ethel closed her eyes and mumbled “Thank you” over and over.
CHAPTER 14Mannheim, Germany, September 1948
OZZIE
At 0700 Ozzie and his company gathered around their battalion fleet to conduct “Motor Pool Monday,” a standing weekly battle rhythm during which the troops facilitated preventative maintenance checks and service on their military vehicles and howitzers. Ozzie had his head in the guts of a Borgward B3000, replacing transmission fluid, when he heard First Sergeant Petty roar: “If a tire falls off because the lug nuts aren’t properly tightened to the correct torque, then you’re a sitting duck in the middle of combat. Leave no screw untouched.”
“Yes, First Sergeant,” the company replied in unison.
Tire irons, screwdrivers, pliers, and jack wrenches clicked and clanked as men changed tires, examined belts and loose cables, and replaced hoses. The transmission fluid smelled sweet, almost like candy, as Ozzie removed the dipstick, wiped it on a towel, and then reinserted it to check the levels. The night before, Ozzie had spent over two hours before bed studying technical manuals and reviewing inspection worksheets to assure that he wouldn’t make any mistakes. Motor pool checkup was an essential part of his job. If any ofhis vehicles left base with faulty equipment, Ozzie’s unit would feel the ass chewing.
Morgan was crouched down, checking the tire pressure on a cargo van. “Looks like somebody got lucky this weekend,” he teased.
Ozzie tried keeping the smile from his face as he topped off the fluids.
“?’Bout time our boy got that stick out his ass and had a little fun.” Satchel knelt on the ground, changing the spark plugs to a generator. “Let me guess. It was that big-eyed waitress, wasn’t it?”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells.” Ozzie wiped grease from his hands.
“Well, I sure ain’t no gentleman,” Satchel sang as if it were the blues. “I gotta honey here, and a fine-ass woman back there.” Satchel tapped the generator, keeping time with the rhythm. “Gave her a promise ring and everything. But shit, it’s impossible to stay faithful over here, and that’s as real as a chicken wing.”
The guys all cackled at Satchel’s song. “You ain’t never lied,” Morgan said to him, then turned solemn.
“It’s the isolation that gets to me. We are literally on the other side of the world.”
“Away from everything we know.” Ozzie closed the hood to the truck.
“Being with men all day, every day. Shiiit, you need a touch from a woman to make life bearable.”
Ozzie nodded in agreement.
“That’s why Germany stays right here in Germany,” Morgan piped. “Work hard, play hard.” And all the men agreed.
