Chapter Ten Ava

TEN : AVA

TULLAHOMA, TENNESSEE

FEbrUARY 1942

I still had a job.

That was something to be grateful for, considering the setbacks I'd experienced in my first week working for Colonel Foster. True to his word, he was a fair man, but I'd seen the look of disappointment in his eyes when I knocked on his office door late Friday afternoon and confessed I had not finished updating the personnel files.

"I'm sorry, sir." I prepared myself to be fired on the spot.

His intense gaze narrowed on me. "What happened?"

Without laying blame on anyone but myself, I admitted I'd had a difficult time locating employees spread throughout the large hospital complex, all while trying hard not to bother anyone. I didn't mention how at least three doctors hadn't been cooperative or that a handful of nurses declared themselves too busy yet found plenty of time to flirt with handsome patients. Some of the files even had the employees' names and ranks incorrect, which took precious time to figure out.

"I still have a dozen or so files to update. If it's permissible, I'd be happy to work through the weekend without pay to complete the task."

The colonel seemed to contemplate my offer. "That's quite admirable, Mrs. Delaney," he said after a lengthy silence. "However, that won't be necessary. You may finish on Monday. But I must warn you, things will only get busier. If you aren't up to it, I suggest you visit the secretarial pool administrator and ask to be reassigned." He'd dismissed me without waiting for my response.

Happily, I delivered the updated files to him early Monday afternoon. He didn't look up from the papers on his desk and simply nodded his thanks. Now, my fingers flew across the typewriter keys, determined not to let the colonel down again. In the past two days, I'd typed dozens of letters, filled out countless supply forms, and taken notes during the two meetings he'd had with various officers. Eight days on the job, and I was finally beginning to feel like I might survive.

"Mrs. Delaney, please come into my office," came the colonel's voice through the open door behind me.

I grabbed a notepad and pencil and hurried to comply. I'd taken two steps into the small, stark room when he said, "You may close the door."

I did.

"There is a situation I need to discuss with you in private. Please have a seat."

After I settled in the chair opposite his desk, wondering what our meeting was about, he motioned to the notepad. "You won't be needing that. What I'm going to tell you will soon be public knowledge, but for now, this is confidential military information."

I nodded. "I understand."

"Two weeks ago, a train full of prisoners arrived at the camp. These men were arrested under the Enemy Alien Control Program and are being housed on base in a restricted and highly guarded area."

I recalled reading about arrests that were made in the days following the attack on Pearl Harbor. People with ties to Germany, Italy, and Japan were rounded up. I hadn't paid much attention to the situation, considering I was dealing with my own grief and fears for the future.

"Why were they brought here?"

"From what I understand, there are thousands of these detainees all across the country." He leaned back against his chair. "Too many to incorporate into our prison systems. The Department of Justice is overseeing the internment program, and several military installations are being used to house the men, Camp Forrest among them. The men we've received are all German citizens."

My heart raced as thoughts of Hitler and the Nazi swastika sped through my mind. "Are they dangerous? Is that why they were arrested?"

"I've been told they were in the United States legally, either working or going to school. None have a criminal history, although it can't be assumed that all of them are anti-Hitler. For most, it seems, their only crime is having been born in a country that is now run by a dictator."

While his comment brought a measure of reassurance, I couldn't help but feel on edge, no matter that the camp was full to overflowing with trained soldiers. The thought of having men with possible ties to Hitler's regime right here at Camp Forrest was terrifying.

"The reason I'm sharing this information with you is because at least one of the detainees will be working in the hospital."

I gasped. "Sir, is that wise? Won't the staff and patients be in danger?"

"I don't believe so. As I said, the men being detained aren't soldiers. This gentleman has indicated he has hospital experience, and according to the DOJ, the detainees are allowed to work while they're here. I suspect there will be others working in various departments around the base. I've been assured an armed escort will always accompany them. That should alleviate any fears."

I gave a hesitant nod.

"Obviously, I will assume responsibility for this man, which is why I thought it necessary that you be made aware of the situation. While I don't foresee the need for you to interact with him, I didn't want you to be taken by surprise when word of the detainees finally leaks out to the staff."

"Are Miss Marsh and the other secretaries aware of the situation?"

He shook his head. "I'd like you to inform them. Just the basic information."

"Yes, sir." I rose to leave, but he stopped me with a question.

"This may not be the best time to ask this, considering the news I've just delivered, but how do you like working at Camp Forrest, Mrs. Delaney? Is it what you expected?"

I returned to my seat. "I admit that after my first day, I was positive I'd made a mistake by accepting the job. But I think that's probably true of any new situation. Thanks to Bren and the other girls, I feel I've settled into the position well." A sudden thought brought a pang of anxiety. "Have I disappointed you, sir, with my job performance?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Delaney. I'm very pleased with your work. I appreciate the efforts you've shown to learn the ropes. The hospital will only get busier as the war progresses, so it will be imperative that we stay one step ahead of things." He smiled. "I think you and I make a good team."

His words of affirmation were a balm to my anxious heart. "Thank you, sir."

I left his office with a lighter step. Bren took notice and came over to my desk.

"Looks like you and the colonel are getting along," she whispered, a sly grin on her lips. "He is quite handsome. And single."

I'd felt comfortable enough with Bren to tell her about Richard. I hoped it hadn't been a mistake. I had no interest in dating anyone.

"It's nothing like that. He simply said I was doing a good job. I do have some news to share with you and the others, though."

Bren called over the other two secretaries, Stella and Ethel, and I passed along the information about the German detainees. However, none of the three young women appeared as shocked as I'd been.

"We've heard rumors about a group of men who are being kept in a fenced-off area of the camp," Bren said. "It's guarded, with towers and ten-foot-high barbed-wire fences, but no one knew who they were."

"Are they Nazis?" Stella asked, her blue eyes wide. "My brother is in Europe fighting Hitler's army. I don't like knowing there are Germans right here in Tullahoma."

"Colonel Foster doesn't believe these men are dangerous. They were in our country legally when the war started, but now the government considers them enemy aliens. The colonel believes the men were arrested because they were born in Germany, not because they are a threat to our safety. But he wanted us to be aware that at least one of them will be working in the hospital."

"I wonder what Captain Leonard thinks about this," Bren said. "Her son is a B-17 pilot. She may not appreciate having Germans working so closely with her nursing staff."

"The Department of Justice is in charge of the detainees, and they've given the men permission to work while they're being held."

The outside door opened, and the supply officer entered the room. Bren hurried to greet him, and Stella and Ethel went back to work. I stayed busy the remainder of the day, but my conversation with Colonel Foster was never far from my mind. When we prepared to leave for the evening, Stella whispered her plan to drive past the detainees' area to see if any of the men were in the yard. Bren and Ethel eagerly said they would follow her. I secretly thought it a foolish idea, considering the area was restricted to military personnel only. The last thing I needed was to lose my job because I ignored the rules. Besides, getting a peek at prisoners considered dangerous enough to lock behind barbed wire wasn't something I was interested in.

I bid them good night. As their vehicles disappeared around the corner, I headed the Ford in the opposite direction, toward the safety of the farm.

· · ·

A week had passed since Colonel Foster informed me about the German detainees. Bren and the other secretaries reported no sightings the night they drove past the fenced-off area. They did, however, see dozens of small huts, guard towers, and enough armed soldiers to ensure no one could attempt to escape the area without being caught. After the initial uneasiness regarding the foreign men living on base, the topic faded into the day-to-day busyness of running a military hospital.

I'd just settled at my desk that morning when Colonel Foster brought me another stack of personnel files.

"I'm sorry to assign this task to you again so soon, but we've had another turnover of workers. A group of doctors and nurses shipped out yesterday, while others have joined our staff. These records need updating. I'm afraid this will be an ongoing situation for the duration of the war."

I stood and accepted the folders. "I'm certain it will go faster now that I know my way around the hospital complex."

He nodded, then seemed to study me for a long moment.

"You look very nice today, Mrs. Delaney," he finally said. "I like the way you've done your hair."

His compliment flustered me. "Th... thank you," I stuttered, my face growing warm.

I'd swept my shoulder-length pin curls to the side, anchored with a pearl comb, a style I hadn't worn since before Richard died. That the colonel noticed rattled me. Mercifully, none of the other secretaries were in the room, otherwise there would have been no end to their teasing.

The colonel returned to his office, and I donned my coat, gathered the folders, and left the building. The breeze outside was brisk, but it felt good on my warm cheeks.

Colonel Foster's comment regarding my appearance was unexpected, but I had to admit it brought a hint of pleasure. After Richard was sent to Hawaii, I didn't worry much about my hair and makeup, considering I mainly stayed on the farm with Gertrude.

According to Bren, the colonel had never been married and had devoted himself to his patients and military career. The gray around his temples had us guessing his age, which we all agreed must be around forty. But as Bren pointed out the other day, he was indeed a handsome man. It made me wonder why he remained a bachelor.

A pang of guilt washed through me as memories of Richard's ready compliments came to mind. He, too, had liked my hair in this style. From the day we met, he made sure I knew he only had eyes for me. Even his letters were filled with words of love and admiration. He'd looked forward to our future together with hope and excitement.

I heaved a sigh.

How I wished I were in Hawaii right now, with Richard alive and well by my side instead of trying to navigate life on my own. But no amount of wishing would bring him back. I was a widow, which meant I was as single as Colonel Foster. There wasn't anything wrong with receiving—and enjoying—his compliment, I reminded myself.

After an hour of gathering information on the new employees, I came to a name no one recognized. His file contained only one sheet of paper, with minimal information filled in the blanks. His occupation was listed as Day-Time Orderly , which meant he could be in any of the sixty-plus hospital buildings, depending on where an orderly was needed at that moment. After searching to no avail, I met one of the nurses who'd helped me locate employees a few weeks ago.

"I'm not sure about the name," she said, continuing with her task of filling pill bottles while we talked. "But I saw a new orderly in the trauma unit a little while ago. There was an accident on the training field."

I thanked her and hurried to the building where specialized care was given to critically injured servicemen. The place buzzed with activity, with doctors and nurses calling out to each other, and patients on gurneys awaiting their turn for medical attention.

Clearly, now was not the time to try to update the file on an orderly.

I'd just turned to leave when I ran into the firm chest of a man wearing a grass-green shirt and matching trousers. Several folders slipped from my hands to the floor.

"Oh, pardon me." I looked up to find intense blue eyes staring at me. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

He simply nodded and stooped to retrieve the items I'd dropped. When he handed them to me, I smiled. "Thank you. I'm Ava Delaney. I work for Colonel Foster."

He dipped his chin. "Fr?ulein."

The single word was so soft I barely heard it, yet it didn't sound like English.

Just then he cast a nervous glance behind him, and I followed his gaze. There stood an armed soldier, unsmiling, watching us.

"Orderly!" came a shout from a doctor across the room. "Get over here. Now." His angry glare was on the man I'd run into.

My heart thundered as the pieces connected.

The reason I'm sharing this information with you is because one of the detainees will be working in the hospital, Colonel Foster had said.

My eyes darted to the name badge clipped to the pocket of his shirt.

Gunther Schneider. Department of Justice Internee.

Here was the orderly I sought.