Chapter Twenty-six Ava

TWENTY-SIX : AVA

DELANEY HORSE FARM

JUNE 1943

I wept the day Gunther boarded a train bound for North Dakota.

To my great disappointment, I wasn't allowed to bid him farewell. Armed soldiers flooded the area and kept all non-military personnel far away from the depot, fearful someone might attempt an escape. Desperate to see Gunther one last time, I drove to a railroad crossing and waited an hour before the train pulled away from the station and began the long journey north.

As it picked up speed, I stood alongside the Ford, straining to catch a glimpse of Gunther in any of the railcar windows, but to no avail. By the time the red caboose rattled past, its rear deck occupied by two soldiers with rifles, tears flowed down my face.

Gunther was gone.

The days and weeks dragged by after that. Bren and the other girls noticed my melancholy and tried to entice me to join them at the USO on the weekends, but I declined. I had no interest in dancing with anyone other than Gunther.

I arrived home after a long day. Several hundred new German POWs had arrived at Camp Forrest. Each was given a full physical, and their records were kept in a locked filing cabinet in Colonel Foster's office. He'd asked me to take charge of them, making sure the information was complete and remained confidential.

"A letter came for you," Gertrude said when I entered the house. "Who do you know in North Dakota?"

I gasped.

It had to be from Gunther.

Before I could answer, Ivy Lee entered the room, dressed to the nines. She obviously had a date with her colonel.

"What about North Dakota?" She picked up the envelope from the table. "That's where all those German spies were sent." Her blue eyes landed on me, a smirk on her ruby lips. "Don't tell me you're correspondin' with that fella you snuck around with. What was his name? Adolph something?"

Heat filled my face. "I didn't sneak around with anyone. I helped Mr. Schneider with his English."

"Why would he contact you?" Gertrude's scowl deepened. "It isn't appropriate for a German prisoner to write to an American war widow. Did you invite him to correspond with you?"

I refused to be questioned by these women. "I'm tired. It's been a long day, and I'd like to lie down. I'll make a sandwich later."

I didn't wait for a response.

I snatched the envelope from Ivy Lee and hurried down the hallway to my bedroom. In the waning light, I leaned against the closed door, the letter clutched to my heart. When my breathing grew normal, I moved to the window. With trembling hands, I opened the envelope, taking care not to rip the edges. A single sheet of folded paper slipped out.

Dear Ava,

I arrived at Fort Lincoln, North Dakota yesterday, a place I had never heard of but now find it is my home. The internment camp is much like the one at Camp Forrest...

Although I could tell military censors read my letter before it reached me, I devoured every word. When I came to the last paragraph, my heart skipped, and I had to reread each word to be sure I hadn't misunderstood his meaning.

I miss our English lessons and your chicken salad sandwiches. I am ever grateful for the time we shared together. It is bold of me to ask, but I hope you will write to me. It would brighten my day.

Sincerely,

Gunther Schneider

I pressed the back of my hand to my lips to keep from squealing with joy.

Gunther hadn't forgotten me. He missed our time together and wanted me to write to him.

I read the letter again, and again, memorizing each detail he shared. He'd been assigned to the hospital, for which I was pleased. While not the same as attending medical school, he would continue to gain experience and knowledge, preparing for the day when the war ended or he was released, whichever came first, and he could return to his studies.

I had to send a reply right away. It had taken several weeks for his letter to reach me, whether that was due to his position as an enemy alien or wartime mail service, I didn't know. I worried he might think I wasn't going to write back.

Settling at the desk with paper and pen, I stared at the blank page for a long time. There were so many things I wanted to say to him.

I miss you.

I wish you were here.

I love you.

Yet it was too soon for such revealing sentiments. The future too uncertain. Knowing an official at Fort Lincoln would no doubt read my words before they reached Gunther, I needed to be careful.

I kept my reply lighthearted and general, filling him in on the arrival of the German POWs, news from the farm, and my hope that he stays well.

When I came to the closing, however, my hand hovered over the paper.

How should I sign it? He'd used the word sincerely in his letter, but I wanted something less formal and more meaningful. Best wishes? Kindest regards?

His friendship meant more to me than he knew, so I chose to acknowledge it.

Your friend, Ava.

I sealed the envelope, resisting the desire to stamp it with a red lipstick kiss.

"Good night, my dearest," I whispered, looking out the window to the twinkling stars. Were the skies in North Dakota clear tonight? I wondered.

Although Gunther was a thousand or more miles away, I suddenly didn't feel quite so lonely.