Chapter 32
Grace Mainwaring to Sally Henry March 17, 1938
… Van and I visited the Schmitzes today. We were accompanied by Juanita and by Will Lane and his parents. Both Johann and Ida are very worried about Harry and his cousin. What little news there is about the International Brigades in the papers or on the radio is not encouraging. Neither Van nor I mentioned New York Times correspondent William C. Carney's report of seeing the bodies of dead International Brigades members. I was glad that Van was certain that none of them was Harry. If there had been any Negroes among them, Carney would certainly have mentioned it along with the better uniforms and equipment as proof that they were from the International Brigades. He wouldn't have missed a chance to crow about fascist triumphs.
… The Schmitzes were glad to hear that Van was doing well enough to take walks. Will remarked that they should see the way the kids in town crowd around him, always asking questions about the war. He could have stopped there. He didn't have to add that if my darling husband weren't married, the girls would be doing the same or look so amused when he said it. After he lamented, tongue firmly in cheek, that he was yesterday's news with all of them, I took the opportunity to tease him a little. "At least Eileen Sawyer hasn't forgotten you."
Will actually blushed. "I took her to the movies a couple of times. We did have a lot of fun though."
I wasn't ready to show him mercy just yet. "That's a good start. Play your cards right, and you might enjoy yourselves all the way to the altar."
The look of panic in his eyes was very satisfying. "I've only been seeing her for a week. It's a little early to be talking about marriage."
"He's right, darling," Van interrupted slyly. "There's something to be said for the slow and cautious approach. After all, we knew each other for an entire month before we were married."
"Ah, the young," mused Johann fondly to Ida. "Did we ever have such fire in us?"
Ida looked at him with equal parts disapproval and affection. "You sure did. Woudn' stop comin' 'round the Childers' kitchen door when I was workin' for them. Tol' me I was the one you was gonna marry the third time we met. Thirty-eight years. Fo' children …."
Johann understood why she broke off and why she looked at him with such anxiety. He took her hand in his and smiled tenderly at her. "Gott will provide. Our boy will come back. When he does, he and Hal and I will go to that good fishing spot on Bas Lake. He won't believe how clear the water is. Not like Cabin Creek where the streams are orange because of the mine runoff"
A dreamy look stole across Ida's face. "He'll probably take to fishin' like his daddy has. Seems like ev'ry time he can Johann takes his rod 'n reel an' bucket of nightcrawlers an' brings back a mess o trout." Ida smiled. "Course I always hafta fry it up."
Van was smiling too. "Harry always did say that nothing would stop him from coming back and tasting your wonderful cooking again and he's a man who keeps his promises."
… As we left, Juanita shook her head. "It's a shame that they don't know if their son is alive or dead. Sometimes I wonder if I was wrong to stay single, but when I see what parents go through worrying about their children when they're sick or in danger …. Maybe it's a good thing I chose nursing over marriage."
I find it hard to understand not wanting a husband and children, but I can't say that Juanita is entirely wrong. Marriage can bring you happiness and contentment but doesn't guarantee them. Sometimes it can bring you terrible pain.
From the Memoirs of Grace Bailey -
As I turned the roadster onto Lake Street, I asked Van a question that had been on my mind. "Why did Ida say she and Johann had four children?"
Van didn't say anything for a moment. He just gave me a very unhappy look. As I saw in his eyes his decision to speak, that look became still more unhappy. "Harry told me about that in the trenches at Jarama. We had time to talk about a lot of things there."
I gave him a questioning look.
"No," he said as he raised his hand. "I didn't say anything about my past as a con artist. One of my reasons for going to Spain was to escape that."
Van was silent for another moment. A hint of shame deepened the unhappiness in his expression. Then it passed and he spoke again. "Johann took part in the Cabin Creek coal strike in West Virginia before the Great War. Did it make the papers in Canada?"
"It did," I confirmed. "I remember Father and Mother wondering why the mine owners couldn't have just invited some of their employees to talk over their grievances instead of dictating to them. Father had a theory."
"What was that?"
"Some people when they make a fortune or build a company let money and power go to their heads. They think they did it all by themselves. They forget the employees whose loyalty and hard work helped them every step of the way. They forget that they owe loyalty in return."
Van nodded. "I've known people like that. The mine owners were definitely that way. They wouldn't even negotiate with the strikers. They just hired strikebreakers to take their places and lowlifes from the Baldwin-Felts Detective Agency to intimidate them. The Baldwin-Felts men evicted the strikers and their families, including the Schmitzes, from their company-owned houses at gunpoint. Harry remembered them trampling through his mother's vegetable garden. Apparently, the corn and cabbages weren't even good for hog feed when they got through."
I winced. I would have hated for someone to do anything like that to my garden even if I did grow far more flowers than vegetables. "That's awful."
"Not as awful as what came next," Van continued grimly. "Harry and his family had to live in a tent for over a year while the mine owners were refusing to budge. Besides the three children you know about, Johann and Ida had a little girl named Lena, their youngest child. She was only two. Luckily, the winter was mild which disappointed the mine owners. They were hoping the miners would freeze to death or submit to their terms. However, there wasn't much food in the tent camp. Even with help from the union everyone suffered from malnutrition. If Lena hadn't been weakened by it, maybe her cold wouldn't have turned into pneumonia. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Harry told me that the day he lost his little sister was the day he started to become a Communist."
On that somber note, I asked Van what Harry's chances were of ever coming back from Spain. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. His answer was just a little too cheerful to be convincing. "At this point, he's seen even more fighting than I have. He knows how to take care of himself."
I wasn't reassured. "I've had people say similar things about you. It gets hard to believe after the second or third time you have to tell a child that his or her pen pal is dead."
Van put a gentle hand on my arm. "You won't ever have to do that alone again. I'll come with you if you like the next time you have to deliver bad news."
I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you. That means a lot, … but it doesn't tell me about Harry."
Van sighed as a grim frown settled on his face. "What's going on in Spain has all the characteristics of a rout. Casualties are probably very heavy."
I wasn't surprised, but my heart still sank. "At least the Fascists seem to be taking Lincolns and Mac-Paps alive instead of shooting them out of hand."
Van was unconvinced. "If you believe General Yagyue. Personally, the word of the butcher of Badajoz doesn't fill me with confidence. I'm glad Sidney Babsky is alive, though, even if his interview with Carney was obviously staged for foreign consumption. However, we don't know what's actually going on at the front." [Van's skepticism was fully justified. Shortly after the interview, Babsky and his fellow prisoners were taken out and shot. Although some of their comrades were spared to be sent to prison camps, executions of International Brigades prisoners in the field remained common. Ed.]
Van said nothing the rest of the way home, but I could tell that his thoughts were troubled.
Next Week: A heart with wings. What is a hero?