Chapter 29

From the Journal of Maisie McGinty March 6, 1938

… While we waited for dinner, I showed Lionel the painting of the Princess Eboli in the dining room. He already knew that Van had persuaded Grace to impersonate her two summers ago for a prank he had played on some friends of his. He was impressed by the painting. The Princess Eboli must have been a dead ringer for Grace. She didn't look the least bit Spanish. Lionel nodded when I told him that her mother was a German Catholic.

Later, in the parlor, Hal Lane asked Lionel why his last name was different from his brother's. He didn't mean to pry, but he couldn't help being a little confused. I realized that in all the time Grace and I had been visiting him and his wife, we hadn't told them much about Van's family. We had mentioned that Van didn't get along with them and little else.

Fortunately, Lionel didn't get his nose out of joint over Mr. Lane's question. He was good-natured about laying out the whole story. The Lanes looked as thunderstruck as I felt when I first heard it and realized that being rich didn't necessarily mean having it easy. I still can't believe that anyone could be as rotten as old Jonathan Marshall. What kind of guy disowns his son for wanting to go into business and make money instead of going into the army and maybe getting killed in a war?

Both my mom and my grandpop told me every now and then that they ought to throw me out into the street, but they would never have actually done it. I can't believe that Van's older brother gave him the bum's rush too. That wasn't even the worst of it as Lionel explained acidly. "My dear father forced our sister to marry a virtual carbon copy of himself. Poor Jane went from being browbeaten in her family home to being browbeaten in her own home."

May shook her head. "I still can't believe it, an arranged marriage in this day and age."

Lionel gave her a relaxed smile. "It was more of an understanding than an arrangement. Father tried to do the same to me. I refused."

Mrs. Lane stuck her oar in. "You didn't like the girl he chose?"

Lionel's smile became even more relaxed. "I liked her very much. She was a very sweet, kindhearted person. That's why I never would have let her marry into a family as awful as mine even if I were the marrying type. When father realized that I preferred to continue with my wicked bohemian existence, he disowned me like he did Van."

"I don't know if I approve of wicked bohemian existences," Archie commented, "But disowning your own child much less two of them seems a little extreme."

"Not for my father. He could afford to cross Van and me off. He had our perfect older brother to carry on the family name. Charles Marshall was probably the only Marine in the history of the corps who didn't curse, get drunk, or chase women."

May gave me the fish eye as I stifled a laugh. Lionel continued as though nothing was happening. "Of course, after the war ended and he was discharged, he married the prig of our father's choice. From what my sister tells me the two of them are very happy together."

From the Memoirs of Grace Bailey -

As [Maisie] hurried up the stairs to bring Van down to dinner, I suddenly realized that the last time we had been together in this house was the day I discovered his hidden life as a con artist. I was amazed at how distant the anger and bitterness that had raged in me then was. The memory still hurt, but mostly all I felt now was love and concern for Van and the growing hope that we could rebuild our marriage on a basis of trust and respect.

I smiled as I walked back towards the kitchen past the Empire clock on the mantel, sparing a glance at the blissful bronze Cupid and Psyche that crowned it before I left the parlor. My ears caught a hint of hard driving swing from upstairs, "One O'Clock Jump" by a sensational new big band out of Kansas City led by former Benny Moten Orchestra pianist Count Basie. It was probably one of the stack of records sent to Van by his New York friend and fellow jazz club haunter John Hammond. If my husband was listening to hot jazz, he must be feeling better.

… Van was happy to meet the Lanes and the Schmitzes at last after hearing so much about them from their sons. He congratulated Will on how deftly he used his split hook to hold and manipulate a knife while cutting his roast beef. Will replied that Van should have seen him during the first month of trying to get used to it. He was dropping things all the time.

Van doubted he was that clumsy. "I'm sure you learned soon enough like you learned how to drill and keep your rifle clean."

Will smiled ruefully. "I remember. We all looked like a bunch of clowns the first time we drilled."

Van grinned. "It wasn't that bad. After a couple of more tries, most of us only looked like a bunch of clowns half the time. Of course, then Brigade Command decided that we were fully trained soldiers and sent us into the line to fight the Fascists."

The kids and some of the adults looked shocked to hear two ex-soldiers speak so irreverently of their commanding officers not to mention their own experiences. I grimaced. I had suspected a certain amount of disorganization in the International Brigades and stupidity on the command level for a long time. It was still unnerving to have two veterans confirm my suspicions. Max smiled the ruefully knowing smile of someone who had seen it all before. Mother changed the subject by asking Van what his trip across the Atlantic had been like.

… The Schmitzes were beaming at all the nice things he had to say about Harry. They were touched by all the nice things their son had said about them. Van spoke of Harry with warmth and fondness, but also with a hint of melancholy that made it obvious how much he missed his friend. I knew from Van's letters and Ida's complaints that there were things he wasn't mentioning, Harry's eye for the ladies and his earnest atheism. Fortunately, Ida didn't bring either up.

I think that she was sobered by the recent news of Harry's Cousin Gottfried and his narrow escape from death. His shrapnel wounds hadn't been as bad as Van's. He had only required a couple of weeks in the hospital and was now back with the Thaelmanns. However, three of the men next to him, including one who had been with him in the Thaelmanns since the beginning, had been killed. I also caught Ida glancing at Van's mangled ear a couple of times. I suspected that all she could feel at the moment was relief that her son was alive and uninjured.

Johann told us all about Gottfried's latest letter. He and his comrades were resting in a small village behind the lines while they awaited further orders. They were happy to be out of combat and relived that they would be able to relax and regroup for a while.

The next day, Franco launched his spring offensive into Aragon. The Republican lines, thinly

manned by inadequately armed conscripts, crumpled like paper. Franco's columns struck and shattered the International Brigades in the villages where they were billeted. Bands of fearful survivors struggled to maintain discipline as they attempted a fighting retreat towards the north. Five days later, Hitler invaded and annexed Austria.

The fascists had plans for Spain, for Europe and for the world. Those who had the courage to oppose them lacked the strength to prevail. Those who had the strength lacked both the courage to stand up and the intellectual honesty to see fascism for the murderous evil that it was. Darkness so deep that it seemed as though it would blot out the dawn forever was falling across the world.