Long Way Home(35)
“We should all make plans to immigrate to Palestine instead of the United States,” Aaron insisted. “It’s our ancestors’ homeland.”
“I thought the British White Paper restricted Jewish immigration after the Arab Revolt?”
“There are other ways to get into Palestine for those who are determined. We could go there on student visas, for instance.”
“Aren’t most of the settlements farming communities?” Sam asked. “I know nothing about farming.”
“We would join the other pioneers, Sam, and build a nation. We’d be preparing the way for more immigrants to come in the future. They’ll need engineers to drain the swamps and set up irrigation systems—the land has been wasting away for a thousand years. And medical professionals to fight malaria and other diseases.”
“And weapons and military fighters?” Sam asked.
“Yes. To protect ourselves. We need a homeland where no one can ever persecute us again.”
A group of children were playing ball in the street as we talked, and Sam tossed the ball back to them when it landed at his feet. I was slowly growing accustomed to seeing Jewish children playing safely outdoors again, young couples walking hand in hand to the cinema, mothers pushing babies in carriages, and elderly people sitting in the park in the sunshine—things that we’d been forbidden to do after the Nazis came to power.
“I’ll never forget how it felt to be on that ship with no place to land,” Sam told Aaron. “There wasn’t a country in the world where we were welcome, and we feared that we’d have to return to Hamburg. That should never happen to any of our people again.”
“I’m just saying give Palestine some thought. It may be years before we’re allowed into the United States.”
Later, Sam asked me what I thought about establishing a homeland in the ancient land of Israel. “It sounds like life there would be a constant struggle,” I replied. “With hostile neighbors and barren land and ruined cities. I just want to live our lives, Sam, don’t you? I want to have a home and children and just live in peace. Haven’t we already gone through enough turmoil for one lifetime?”
“I agree. I don’t feel much like a pioneer or a freedom fighter. All I want is a safe home and a future with you. Starting all over again will be enough of a challenge without trying to do it in a desolate country with warring neighbors.”
“Then let’s be patient and wait until the United States lets us immigrate there.”
As September approached, Ruthie and I and Sam’s two brothers prepared to attend school in Antwerp’s Jewish community. I was excited about finishing my last year of secondary school and had enrolled in a program to complete a nursing certificate two years after graduating. We were settling into our new lives in Belgium, even if they were only temporary. And even though it was difficult, Sam and I obeyed our parents’ wishes and spent a little less time with each other. For a few brief months, we were all happy.
Then, on September 1, 1939, two and a half months after Sam and I and our families had arrived safely in Belgium, our future dreams were shattered once again. The Nazis staged a brutal, lightning-quick invasion of Poland. In response, Great Britain and France declared war on Germany. Europe was at war again. And tiny, neutral Belgium, our new homeland, stood directly in the path of the warring nations.
9
Peggy
JUNE 1946
It was past noon by the time Joe and I returned home from visiting Chaplain Bill in Connecticut. Joe had spent the first part of the drive talking nonstop about his favorite baseball team, the Cleveland Indians, comparing them to the New York Yankees, and the remainder of it asleep. I had hoped we could talk about Chaplain Bill. I wanted to ask Joe what he thought of our visit, but I was afraid he would become upset again. Bill’s comment about the war haunted me. “None of us are the same after what we saw. And did.” Clearly he and Joe Fiore and Jimmy Barnett had been deeply affected by their experiences, and I didn’t see how insulin comas and electrical shocks and jets of hot and cold water were going to erase four years of seeing the world burning and millions of innocent people suffering and dying, as Bill had described it. His faith had been shaken, and I wondered if Jimmy’s had, too.
I changed into my work clothes as soon as I got home and hurried across the road to the clinic. I was working in the dog kennels when Mr. Barnett found me. “I’m heading out to Blue Fence Farms, Peggy. Do you have time to come along?”
“Sure, I’d love to.” I was supposed to be teaching Donna how to take over Pop’s bookkeeping this afternoon, but I was feeling stubborn and a little sorry for myself. Donna had waited all these years to take an interest in Pop’s business, so she could just wait a few hours longer. As Mr. Barnett’s truck rattled down the country roads toward the thoroughbred ranch, I told him about my trip to Danbury to see Chaplain Bill. “He isn’t depressed like Jimmy is,” I said, “but his faith has been shaken and he’s questioning God. He’s going to resign from his church.”
“That’s a shame.”
“The chaplain remembered Jimmy as having a lot of faith for a young man. He said that Jimmy was courageous under fire, crawling around to take care of his wounded men while the bullets were flying. When the chaplain asked him why he was so fearless, Jimmy had quoted a Bible verse that said all of his days were written in God’s book.”