Chapter 22

Grace Mainwaring to Vanaver Mainwaring November 14, 1937

You are too hard on yourself, Van. Will has lost his right arm below the elbow, but he is going to live. Harry wrote us about how you carried Will out of no man's land after he was hit and were almost cut down by a machine gun for your trouble. The Lanes are fine people and you spared them the agony of mourning their son. That was a brave and decent thing and I am proud of you for it.

Will's recovery won't be easy. However, the Friends of the Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion Rehabilitation Fund will help him. He will have the best treatment possible. I talked to Mother and there will be a job for him when his recovery is done. Please, don't ever suggest that I turn away from you again. I will wait for you, not just because I love you, but because you are a good man and worth waiting for.

From the Journal of Honey Sutton November 22, 1937

Mr. Bridgeman refuses to instruct the nuns at St. Martha's to allow Grace to write a letter to Laura. Laura respects Grace and Mrs. Bridgeman is sure that Grace could persuade her to reconcile with her father. I talked to Grace earlier today. She agrees that Laura is making a mistake in cutting herself off from her father, however wrong he is in trying to force her to abandon her opposition to Franco.

At least her schoolwork hasn't suffered, especially her drawing. Althea showed me some still life and animal sketches she had made. They were a little rough, but they have vitality. With practice, she might achieve something really fine someday.

Regretfully, I have to agree with Grace that the American Catholic bishops have also made a mistake in releasing their Letter to the Spanish Hierarchy supporting their Spanish colleagues' stand for Franco. She does believe that the American bishops are being naïve rather than deliberately dishonest. She gives them credit for also issuing a letter condemning Hitler and the Nazis. However, she considers that condemnation extremely self-serving. The focus is almost entirely on the wrongs done to the church. The crimes committed by the Nazi regime against the Jews are barely hinted at.

The only consolation in all this is that there has been no collective statement supporting the Spanish hierarchy from Canada's bishops. Grace isn't sure if this is because our bishops have more sense than their American counterparts or because there is no Canadian equivalent of America's National Council of Catholic Bishops to organize one. The difficulty of getting French-Canadian Catholic bishops and Irish-Canadian Catholic bishops to put aside the bad feelings between them over the issue of bilingual schools for French Canadians may also have something to do with it. Whatever the reason or reasons, Canada has been spared an embarrassment.

Hub is also unhappy about these developments. He wonders if maybe they are part of why God is calling him to the priesthood. He is certain that now more than ever, the church needs priests who will work and fight for God's poor rather than deliver them into the hands of dictators whether fascist or Communist. The Catholic Workers in America and the Antigonish movement in Canada have proven that such priests and their work exist and can provide an alternative to both fascism and Communism.

Hub may be right in believing that such work must be the future of the church if it is to have any future at all. The question is will it? Hub looks to Spain and fears that if the church hierarchy there and their supporters continue to betray the people into the hands of fascist mass murderers, the people will not forget … or forgive.

May Bailey to Jessie Buchanan November 23, 1937

It was a shock to see Will Lane get off the train this past Saturday. He was thin when he left New Bedford, but now he isn't much wider than a yardstick. Grace has heard stories about food shortages in Republican Spain from her contacts in Toronto and her brother-in-law's in New York. If the soldiers are not being adequately fed, I can't imagine how the civilians are faring.

It was even more awful to see Will's right sleeve pinned up because he no longer has an arm with which to fill it below the elbow. He has to do everything with his left hand now. Still, at least he is alive which is more than can be said for that poor sergeant whose rank Harry Schmitz assumed after he was killed at Fuentes de Ebro.

Vanaver Mainwaring to Grace Mainwaring November 28, 1937

I am glad that Will is improving and grateful for what you and your mother are doing for him. I am also grateful for your kind words although I don't feel brave or decent, just tired and used up. I train more apprehensive Spanish farm boys as replacements for our losses and wonder how many will make it through the next battle.

Don't ever think I don't love you, Grace. However, the longer this war goes on and the more blood I see spilled, the harder it becomes to believe that I will ever see you again. I can't help wondering if I have any more chance of coming back to you than of keeping my old promise to get you the moon and all the stars. Even if I do come back, will you recognize the person I have become?

From the Journal of Honey Sutton November 28, 1937

Will Lane wasn't very talkative at Sunday dinner. He was uncomfortable with the children's adulation of him. Grace made chicken ala king, not the usual Sunday dinner fare. I asked her why. She admitted that she did it so that Will wouldn't need to have someone else cut his meat for him because he has no right hand anymore to hold a knife. Dr. Barlow assures us that the split hook on the new artificial limb he will be getting from the Hosmer Dorrance Company will solve that problem. Apparently, it performs with nearly all the strength and dexterity of a real hand.

Max took Grace up on her suggestion that he offer a sympathetic ear to Will as his former teacher and as a fellow veteran who understands what it is like to come home from a war. They were together in May's conservatory for quite a while. Max was somber afterwards. He said little except that Will was doing fairly well for someone who has spent a year on speaking terms with death. Will was the first of his students to go to war against fascism. He wishes he could believe that he'll be the last. …

Grace Mainwaring to Sally Henry December 6, 1937

… Henry couldn't be happier with the way things are going for him. His driving lessons are finished in spite of some early misadventures with my Ford that I thought might finish me. His new enthusiasm for automobiles is impressing Rebecca, although it seems that every week he comes up with a new way to try and sweet talk me into letting him drive my roadster.

Rebecca is in seventh heaven. Iris Barlow is letting her help with the costumes for the United Church annual nativity pageant. Working at Toppy's dress shop has sharpened her skills as a seamstress. She still dreams of being an actress but is willing to get her foot in the door first as a wardrobe mistress.

Grace Mainwaring to Vanaver Mainwaring December 8, 1937

… I refuse to believe anything but that we will one day be together again. I can hardly bear the thought of losing you, especially after what Will reluctantly told me about Jarama, Brunete, and Fuentes de Ebro after I showed him your last letter. Two months ago, he would have had a hard time believing that he would ever survive this terrible war. Now he is back home with his parents again.

If you could see them reunited, I think some of your fears would be eased. Will is a different person than before he went to war, and not just in the loss of his arm. He is more subdued, and he wasn't exactly talkative before.

He is also a little skittish. His mother told me that just the other day, she accidentally dropped a pan she was washing onto some of the dishes in the sink and he threw himself to the floor. He doesn't spend much time with his old friends anymore.

He takes long walks at all hours. He talks to Max and one or two other Great War veterans more than he does his own parents. Nonetheless, the Lanes love their son and their joy and relief at having him back home with them matters far more to them than any adjustments they have to make to the person he has become. Whatever this war does to you, how can you think it would be any different between us?

From the Journal of Honey Sutton December 16, 1937

… Mrs. Bridgeman spoke to me after the Ladies' Sodality meeting today. She is at her wits' end. Laura continues to give her father the cold shoulder. She hasn't sent him a single letter all fall and since she returned to New Bedford for Christmas refuses to speak to him any more than absolutely necessary. All I could tell her was that she may or may not like the advice Toppy gave her about her problem, but if Laura refuses to listen to her or her father, she may have no choice but to take it.

… Max has finished the first draft of his new play A Miner's Son. I think it has some terrific dialogue and characterizations, although it still needs a strong central thread to give it coherence. It's uncomfortable knowing that the story and characters are based on Max's own life. The scenes of the hero, his brother, and their mother suffering at the hands of his brutal, drunken father are harrowing. Max rarely speaks of his childhood and if that's what it was like, I don't blame him. I suppose that he learned the kindness and gentleness he shows our children from his mother.

Henry is feeling discouraged because his latest plea to be allowed to take Rebecca to the movies in his aunt's roadster has fallen on deaf ears. Grace refuses to budge on her terms. Henry can use her old Ford anytime he needs to borrow a car. If he can go a year without an accident, then he can borrow her roadster. I almost laughed when he complained that "Aunt Grace never used to be this stubborn."

I couldn't help but observe that in the past year, she's had a lot of practice.

May Bailey to Jessie Buchanan December 16, 1937

… Grace and Mr. Bridgeman continue to be scrupulously polite to each other at work, but the chill between them is so severe that we might as well have held Tuesday's board meeting in an arctic blizzard. Mr. Graham has also made his displeasure at Grace's dedication to the cause of the Republic known to me on a couple of previous occasions. He once told me that he would never let Rebecca behave as Grace does. However, he seems to understand that Grace is a grown woman and long past the age when I can make her do anything even if I were so inclined.

Unlike Mr. Bridgeman, he doesn't seem disposed to worry himself half to death over things he can't change. I am grateful that he is so tolerant of Henry's courtship of his daughter and have told him so. He explained, "It isn't the boy's fault that his aunt is a firebrand. Besides, this war will be over and forgotten long before he or my daughter leave high school. Hopefully, by then, Grace will be back with her husband where she belongs."

Speaking of relatives, or at least wards, with minds of their own, Maisie is determined to subject the family to yet another culinary horror. She promises-perhaps I should say threatens-to make fruitcake for Christmas. I can feel every inch of my stomach and most of my intestines cringing at the awful prospect.

It's almost enough to make me nostalgic for the hardtack and salt pork John and I used to eat on the trail. At least the recipe she is using doesn't require alcohol. Her father's sobriety will be safe although his digestive tract will still be in mortal peril.

Grace Mainwaring to Sally Henry December 17, 1937

… I spoke to Chao-xing Yuen at the gazebo while watching her son Billy playing with my nephew Zack. She is very proud of her little boy. Billy is almost four and loves reading, especially Mickey Mouse Magazine.

… Chao-xing and Mr. Yuen are very anxious about his father in Nanking. The news from there of wholesale rape and butchery of Chinese civilians by the Imperial Japanese Army is horrific. The Yuens are thankful that Chao-Xing's parents live in a small town near Chungking which is far inland from the Japanese advance. I will pray tonight for Mr. Yuen's father and for all the other poor souls at the mercy of an enemy whose armed forces seem to consist entirely of rapists, murderers, and accomplices. If anyone ever needed help from God, they do.

… Laura and her mother were waiting for me in one of the back pews of St. Matthew's as Toppy told me they would be. Apparently, Mrs. Bridgeman really did want me to speak to her daughter. Fr. Fitzroy was discreetly absent. Laura all but threw herself into my arms. After a hug and greetings, she wasted no time explaining to me how awful the previous months had been and how unfair her father was being.

The nuns do sound a little rough, but not much more than teachers in public school who use the strap. Of course, I don't believe in the strap. I've always admired Max for taking a stand against it even if he couldn't persuade the school board to do away with the policy. I'm not surprised that Laura still agrees with me about fascism and especially about Franco. People can be persuaded to change their views, but they can't be forced.

I tried to persuade Laura to go easier on her father. He may be stubborn and wrongheaded, but he is only trying to do what he thinks best for her. Laura called him a monster and wished that she never had to speak to him again. I could feel an old and deep grief waking inside me. I reminded her that I was only a little younger than she was when my father died and that I would give anything to be able to speak to him just one more time. She seemed to understand a little what I was trying to tell her.

She didn't protest when I explained that it is perfectly normal for parents and children to disagree. If I counted on my fingers all the times I've disagreed with Mother over the years, I'd need at least four dozen extra pairs of hands. She hasn't always been fair to me, but she does love me just as Laura's father loves her. I've found that it helps to be patient with her even and perhaps especially when she makes me so angry I want to scream.

Perhaps Laura could do the same with her father. It's a lot better than going around being unhappy all the time. Laura supposed that she could at least give my advice a try. I just hope that Mr. Bridgeman is receptive if she does. There may not be any peace between warring powers in this year of Our Lord, but there should be peace between family members who love each other.

From the Journal of Honey Sutton December 20, 1937

Wonderful news. Joe is coming to New Bedford for Christmas. I am glad that his fighters have been mostly successful since their training camp on Bas Lake ended, but I have missed him very much. I wish my brother were more of a letter writer. It was unfair that Grace learned about his new girlfriend Julie before I did even if she did have the advantage of seeing him in person when she visited Toronto last fall.

… Grace is beginning to mope and fret as she always does when she hasn't gotten a letter from Van for a long time. It doesn't help that the Spanish republic launched a new offensive five days ago against a small provincial city called Teruel. Both Grace's sources in Toronto and her brother-in-law's in New York agree that the Republic's pointed claims that only regular army units are being used and that the International Brigades are being kept out of the action are true.

So, apparently, are the reports of tension between the Republican government and the International Brigades' Communist organizers. Grace still worries that something will go wrong with the offensive and Van and his comrades will be sent into the breach. Max and I have tried to assure her that the news stories of surprise and success in the attack on Teruel must be accurate, but I don't think I gave her much comfort. I'm afraid that she has heard too many similar claims that turned out to be premature.

From the Memoirs of Grace Bailey -

As Christmas Eve approached, I had heard nothing from Van since he wrote to me in late November. Harry mentioned him in a letter from the first week in December, but after that there was no further news. Anxiety tormented me a little more with each day that passed without a letter from Van.

Had the battalion been thrown into action in spite of the Republic's claims and promises? Had there been an accident? Had Van simply stopped writing out of a misguided idea that I would be better off not waiting for him? Over three weeks passed and still nothing. There was always a sympathetic word or a small act of kindness from one or another of my friends and family to let me know that I didn't have to shoulder my troubles alone. Nonetheless, by Christmas Eve I was absolutely miserable with dread.

Next Week: A memorable Christmas Eve. War across the world. Nerves wearing down.