The Submarine Hatch

"She doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in."

― Sonya Hartnett

"Every door is another passage, another boundary we have to go beyond."

— Rumi

Back at the villa in Salzburg, Maria and the children were getting along famously. After lunch that afternoon, they had closed their books and went outside to play. Since the Captain had left the villa for Vienna earlier that day, Maria had decided that there would be no more marching and no more whistles. She had purposefully planned their afternoon activities to be disorganized since the children had not been able to just be for such a long time.

As they all filed out the back terrace door, Frau Schmidt came out from the salon and smiled widely at the sight. It had been so long since she saw the children having fun, and to think, it took a governess from Nonnberg Abbey to make it happen.

"Fraulein Maria, dear!" she called out as Maria approached the door behind the line up of happy children. "I will bring afternoon tea out onto the terrace in a few hours and you can relax out there, it is such a lovely day!".

Maria smiled back and thanked her for her kindness as she made her way outside. The children were so pleased that they were allowed to play and have free time instead of marching about the grounds breathing deeply.

Friedrich and Louisa mucked about on the bank of the lake looking for creatures in the very spot that Maria had wandered earlier that morning. Liesl sat on the terrace working on some embroidery that Josephine had help her start several months ago, and the younger children bounced balls on the terrace and played catch or played with their dolls. Maria sat back and watched the children, studying their interactions with each other, and locking away her observations for later.

When Frau Schmidt had brought out the tea later on that afternoon, the children were so excited to be able to eat on the terrace. Maria learned that the Captain had banned all outdoor eating over the past few years, so only the older children could recall teatime outside, or even picnics on the mountain with their mother and father. At that moment, Maria decided that she would do more of this sort of thing and she started sketching out some potential outings around the villa for the children to enjoy.

With all this newfound freedom being afforded to the children, the afternoon went by so quickly. Everyone tidied up their toys and released the creatures back into their natural habitats, and then it was time to go in and clean up for dinner.

Later on, washed and groomed, everyone sat around the table conversing about their day and what fun they had. Maria sat proudly at the head of the table, smiling at her charges and at their tired and content faces. God had worked miracles in this home in just over a day – Maria could not wait to see what the next few days would bring. At the end of the table, however, the chair where the Captain had sat last night was empty. Although she wasn't cold, Maria felt a chill and she ran her arms up and down the gooseflesh that was appearing there. His absence was palpable. Last night she noticed how blue his eyes were, how steadfast they were in their gaze. She knew he missed nothing, and in retrospect, she felt a bit self-conscious about her drab convent dress. She would need to start to work on some new clothes with the fabric the Captain had ordered for her.

That evening, Maria and the children gathered in the salon to work on quiet activities and read stories. Gretl asked Maria if she could sing about her favourite things again, and with a little bit of hesitation, she finally agreed. The children were spellbound at the sound of Maria's voice. It was so clear and beautiful.

Frau Schmidt wandered into the salon after a time, initially with a look of concern on her face at the sound of music in the villa once more. However, when she heard the music and saw how happy the children were, she was reminded of happier times when the late Baroness would sit in the very chair that Maria was occupying, baby Gretl curled up on her lap and Brigitta on the floor hugging her leg. Her eyes moved across the room from Fraulein Maria to the settee where the Captain used to sit with his book and a glass of cognac. Oh, how she had longed for those days, and after so many years, they had appeared to have returned with the arrival of governess #12!

Bedtime that evening was quite relaxed and the children did not struggle with their routines. They were tired from all the fresh air and exercise they had that afternoon, coupled with the fact that they had stayed up late the previous night during the storm. After a bedtime story, the little ones had drifted off to sleep, and Maria and Liesl finally managed to have their talk that had been interrupted the night before.

Liesl told Maria all about Rolfe and how they had met at school and that he was one grade older than her. Rolfe had a job working as a telegram delivery boy in the evenings and since he covered so much ground delivering telegrams on his bicycle, he knew everyone and everything that was going on in Salzburg. Maria also learned that the Captain was still under the impression that Liesl was still a little girl and he had not entertained any of her requests to spend time with a boy.

"He said 'no' without any discussion at all, Fraulein!" Liesl wailed. "He told me I was too young to spend time with a boy, let alone someone who was older than me! He advised me to wait and not bring up the topic for discussion until I was at least twenty! TWENTY! Fraulein, that is why I said yesterday that I didn't need a governess. I wasn't mad at you for coming to stay with us, I was angry at Father for his stubbornness! He treats me the same as Gretl and she is eleven years younger than I am."

Maria listened carefully as Liesl poured out her heart, recalling a time long ago when she too thought she was in love at Liesl's age. Now that her destiny was to serve God in the Abbey, she would never have to worry about her own heart breaking ever again. Maria tried to offer some comfort to Liesl, suggesting maybe they could invite Rolfe on a picnic sometime over the summer.

ooOoo

Now that Maria had spent a full day with the children, they were settling into an easy and comfortable routine with each other. After saying good night to Liesl and shutting the door to her room, she thought she really should turn in and catch up her sleep from her restless night, but there was one place she just had to go before going to bed: the Library.

She could not wait to see all the neat rows of books once again and to find some new reading material that was not sacred music or the Liturgy. Maria quietly stole down the stairs, across the grand foyer and headed towards the library. She paused in the middle of the foyer and turned around to face the ballroom doors. She started to step towards them, wanting to just take another peek, but she thought the better of it and continued to her original destination.

She pushed open the library door and felt her way along in the semi-darkness towards the desk just inside the door. She pulled the chain on the little desk lamp and as it sputtered to life, the entire library began to glow from its soft light.

The library was furnished in dark mahogany wood, with walls lined floor-to-ceiling. There were books of all shapes, sizes, and colours, each with a gold accented spine. Turning her head ninety degrees, Maria read the names printed in embossed gold letters: Shakespeare, Longfellow, Austen, Rilke, Tolstoy, Hugo, and Browning, among so many others. She ran her fingers along the spines and briefly caressed each book lovingly. She found children's stories, biographies of the great composers of Austria, works detailing the naval and military history of Europe, volumes of sheet music, encyclopaedias, and works of poetry. Maria felt as though she was a child in a candy store! Never before had she been exposed to so many different types of books at once – she was sure the Captain's collection rivaled the one that she had used when she was at Teacher's college in Vienna.

There were so many possibilities, Maria did not know where to start. However, before coming down here she did have an idea of what she was looking for: World War I naval history. She knew that she just had to learn more about the Captain and his exploits in the Great War. While she did know a few details about his many battles, her knowledge was rather superficial. She had studied the war in school and had read about important events in newspapers. Perhaps an understanding of the roles he played would help her to understand him better, and in turn, would help him to reconnect with his children.

She found the place on the shelf where a collection of military and naval history books were stored. She pulled out a volume that appeared to detail Austria's military honours, including the Maria Theresa Cross and other medals that were afforded by the Empire. As she went to turn to sit in the plush red velvet chair by the fireplace, something caught her eye. It was a large volume with a wide spine, but it didn't quite look like a book since nothing was printed on the side. She set her original selection on the floor and carefully pulled this larger one from its place on the shelf.

Her instincts were correct. This was a box designed to look like a book, but it was not a book! Instead, Maria had discovered a memory box of sorts... Intrigued, she carried the volume carefully towards the chair and she sat down, perched on the edge of the seat, holding the volume across her lap.

Carefully opening the top, she peered inside the box to find a collection of newspaper clippings, photographs, and other memorabilia. On the top of the pile, there was a photograph of a man who she assumed was the Captain, standing at the end of a dock with an open submarine hatch over his left shoulder. In another, image she could make out a motley crew of submariners, standing in a line on top of their ship. Along the bottom of the photograph, "The S.M.U. 5 is greeted by the S.M.S. Monarch" was written in the same hand that had penned the governess' manual.

Maria tried to focus her eyes on the many faces of the men in that image and finally settled on the figure of the Captain standing atop the sail. The image was taken at too great a distance to identify anyone's specific facial features, but she would recognize his posture anywhere. She set the photo down on the arm of the chair and came across a handful of other images of the Captain and his crew during their time on the water. It was so incredible to think of events that she had only read about had been experienced by the Captain, himself. She, Maria, was now the governess to the seven children of one of Austria's greatest heroes!

As she leafed through the pile, she came across a photo of the villa's gazebo on a beautiful sunny day. The Captain and another man with a moustache stood proudly beside it; each clutching a hammer and looking like they were having the time of their lives. The moustached man's striking brown eyes danced with mirth and mischief and he had a huge grin plastered on his face. For some reasons Maria had a hunch this might be the infamous Uncle Max.

The next photo made Maria's heart leap: it was the late Baroness! Maria was amazed at how well she had been able to piece together a mental image of this woman just by looking at her children. She was seated inside the gazebo, a book in one hand, and a teacup and saucer in the other. She wasn't a tall woman, perhaps the same height as Maria, but she had a much sturdier frame compared to Maria's elfin stature.

Maria closed her eyes and she could imagine the Baroness sitting in the salon with the Captain and the children, their toys scattered about much like they had earlier this evening. The Captain might be sprawled out on the floor, re-enacting great battles with his boys and their toy soldiers. Looking at this photo of the Baroness, she could envision evenings filled with stories, songs, and togetherness. A beautiful, happy couple, surrounded by their love and the love of their seven children. As she opened her eyes, a tear escaped and she took a deep breath before continuing. She did feel sad for the Captain's and the children's losses, but at the same time she was struck with a pang of jealousy for the life they did have together. Maria's memories of her own family were so foggy. Her only memories of family were nothing like the Von Trapp's for her Uncle was a cruel and a very cold man. How could the Captain willingly force these memories away?

In the box, Maria came across sheets of foolscap paper written with very familiar handwriting. At first, she was sure she had found another copy of her governess 'how-to' manual that the Captain had given her yesterday. However, as she studied the words on these pages, she discovered that the Captain had written down a series of observations and stories recounting his life at sea. As she read through them, Maria understood that he had taken great care to document some of his expeditions in the Navy.

Maria had come to the library hoping to learn more about the Captain, and her wish had come true!. She was completely fascinated with the many tales of his exploits that he had jotted down on foolscap. He was a well-spoken man with impeccable grammar and the curls and flows of his penmanship reminded her of the ebbs and flows of the sea. Maria was perhaps most struck with the realization that these words were seemingly in conflict with the image of the imposing martinet that the Captain had exhibited yesterday.

The Captain had so many interesting recollections that were worthy of a history book. The descriptions the Captain provided were so poignant she could easily imagine them coming to life before her eyes. The more Maria read, the more she wanted to learn, and she hungrily devoured his words. However, it wasn't just the words that captivated her, it was also his neat handwriting and his command of language. The Captain was able to effortlessly add depth and colour to his tales, and at the same time, his text only added complexity to his already intriguing personality.

One passage in particular captured Maria's imagination. Across several pages, the Captain recounted the landscape and people who lived on the islands around Sebenico in the Adriatic:

"Their singing touches my heart strangely the first time I hear it. The concert of many hundreds of cicadas is like an accompaniment, and the light evening wind brings the land's fragrance – intoxicating, heavy, and sweet". [1]

"So," she mused, "he hasn't always hated music…"

Further along she read: "This is a completely new color harmony: blue-blue in all shades, like swimming in blue. The sky above, the vast blue sea all around, the only contrast coming from brilliant white summer clouds above and equally white rocky islands below." [2]

This was all so poetic for a man who had spent so much time under water…

"Mines lie between the islands. At any moment an enemy periscope, scope, or a plane with bombs, could appear, and the nights have become exceptionally interesting; there are no more beacons! The war has extinguished them" [3]

War...Maria was suddenly struck with the realization that real men went to war! It was not just some story that boys and girls read about in books in school. These were real people and the Captain was one of them, leading teams of men both above and below the water.

Further along, the Captain's notes relayed a conversation he had with one of his men on his submarine. The man had said:

"…there is more to our trade than to life in the trenches or on a torpedo boat. I think it takes more nerves. Look, you have it better than the men and me. We know absolutely nothing about what is going on up there. We can see nothing. We only know that you are going for an attack. You have no time to talk, but we must read your facial expressions to infer what is going on up there." [4]

Maria found it so fascinating to have this glimpse into life in a submarine. These men put their blind faith and trust in this man, their Captain. He had to be a good, strong man to maintain their faith and keep their attitudes positive. Running her hand through her hair, Maria couldn't help but observe how similar things were in the Abbey. A motley crew of men or a clutch of women from across the Empire, all coming from different backgrounds and classes, all putting their faith in their leader. Learning from their expressions, actions, and finding conviction in their judgements.

Looking up from the pages and straight ahead at nothing in particular, Maria exhaled loudly. "So far, I can attest to the fact that there is so much to learn about the Captain just by reading his facial expressions. Yesterday afternoon, so much of his personality was demonstrated in the play of his features, the glint of the blue depths of his eyes, his steady posture." The Captain effortlessly conveyed an air of authority and intimidation. But now she was struck with the simple fact that he possessed a much more tender, human side. These words, so carefully assembled, told her so. "Indeed, he may not say much with words, but if these men were able to read him, perhaps in time, and if I manage to stay long enough, I will be able to figure him out".

Maria was entranced by the eloquence of the Captain's words and the way in which he grounded himself despite the horrors of war. Here was a man who missed nothing, appreciated everything, and loved freely and deeply. Nibbling on the nail of her baby finger, she shook her head. She could not help but wonder what happened to that man? The one who loved freely, felt deeply, and who knew that the one gift the Lord gave him was the blue sky and the blue depths of his sea. Truly, that man could not be gone forever! He was just camouflaged, hiding…waiting for the right time to re-appear. He had known such loss. First his coastline and his Navy, then his beautiful wife, and in some respects, he had also lost his children to his grief.

Maria picked up the photo of the Baroness again. As she studied the woman's features, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the Captain in those early days after he had lost her. Her own hazy memories were conjured up behind her eyelids. Carefree days in the mountains near Innsbruck in their cozy house, the pasture out back, the horses and the sheep. The cats in the barns. The love of her parents. Then one day, it was gone.

At the time, she was much too young to appreciate the impact of those events on her life. But as she aged, Maria, herself, realized that she was one of those people who had been brow-beaten by the slings and arrows of misfortune. She may have suffered greatly, but with the love of the right person, a good dose of compassion, she was able to grow and live with the pain, to find a sort of happy medium where she could remember with fondness and less with sorrow. The sisters of Nonnberg had helped her to shed her shell of despair and find joy in all of God's creations.

She set the photos and the stack of beautiful words onto the arm of the chair and continued on in her exploration. As she picked through the items in the box, she found a photograph of a man who looked vaguely familiar to her. He had dark hair and piercing eyes like the Captain, but she was quite certain it was not Captain Von Trapp. Turning the image over, she saw the name "Werner Von Trapp, 1882-1915, d. Galicia, Austria" written in the Captain's neat hand.

She looked up and straight and her eyes focused on the ship in the bottle that sat on the bookshelf in the corner: "The Captain's brother!", she gasped. Gone at such a young age because of the vagaries of war. The children had mentioned him earlier that morning at breakfast.

Maria recalled her lessons from school: the Battle of Galicia was a key battle on the eastern front between Austria-Hungary and Russia. Several hundred thousand Austrians had been killed or taken as prisoners of war during that battle. The Captain's brother had been one of them. The Captain was one of the lucky men who had participated in the defense of the Empire, yet he had managed to return home to his family. This blasted war had proven to be a double heartache for the brave Captain: he had lost his Navy and his brother.

Maria continued to leaf through the box and she found a series of newspaper clippings recounting the Captain's glory days: stories of the sinking of Leon Gambetta, the Kilwinning, and the Nereide. They were neatly trimmed and assembled in a pile, and Maria could almost imagine the Baroness gathering these items while the Captain was away on duty. Treasuring the images and words he likely had sent to her in the mail, she could also picture her seeking out the latest news of the Navy's exploits during the Great War in the Wiener Tagblatt or the Neue Freie Presse.

At the very bottom of the box, she found a cardboard photo folio that opened like a book. Maria was rendered speechless when she opened it. One on side was a photograph of the seven VonTrapp children, taken when Liesl could not have been more than 10 years old. All the older girls had white bows in their hair and wore similar white dresses. Kurt and Friederich were dressed in their familiar uniforms with a striped scarf tied neatly with a white bow. Baby Gretl sat perched in Brigitta's lap [5].

On the opposite side was a photograph of the Captain and the late Baroness on their wedding day. Since it was a professional portrait, it was much easier to make out the Baroness' features compared the photo of her in the gazebo that she had come across earlier. Her hair was piled neatly on her head in a full pompadour and she wore a fur stole. The Captain was so handsome in his naval uniform, decorated in his many medals and his hair combed impeccably.

Time had been kind to Captain Von Trapp; he had not changed much, save for a few gray hairs that accentuated his temples. In the photo, his hands were clutched together in the same manner as when he marched around her yesterday in the foyer. The Baroness had her arm laced in his and they were the epitome of Austrian nobility, and a couple very much in love. Maria knew that in the upper classes, many weddings were of convenience and rarely built on affection. The Captain and his Baroness were clearly the exception to that rule.

All at once Maria began to understand the extent Captain's grief and could at least empathize with his behaviour. His whole world had been built around the Navy, and when that was lost at the end of the Great War, that alone would have been quite the blow. During the war he had also lost his brother to enemy gunfire at Galacia. Then, to lose his beautiful wife and the mother of his seven children, he would have been quite literally a boat without a rudder, drifting aimlessly. His wife was his anchor, the last bastion literally holding him together…before he crumbled into the sea.

Maria felt a wave of compassion wash over her as she recalled how he had paraded about like a martinet just over 24 hours ago. Rules, discipline, decorum…but that was all he knew, the only way he felt comfortable. It was as if he purposefully dragged himself back to a point in time when he was able control the world around him. When his men would read his face to learn what would happen next. He didn't need to speak, he just was. They would read his expression and know what was going on. There was comfort in the Navy, and it seemed he did not hesitate to recall his life on the water. The decorations in his study had proven that. Although Austria was now a landlocked nation and it no longer needed any decorated naval captains, he clung to the order and predictability it provided. The Mother Abbess was correct when she told her not too long ago that habits are like submarines: they run silent and deep. It was an appropriate analogy for the life of the Captain.

All memories of the Baroness, however, were banished from the home. This box was the only physical evidence that the woman had actually existed apart from the seven children Maria now cared for. Why would he not cultivate the fond reminiscences of his life with her and the children? Maria barely remembered her own parents, but what times she could recall, she always considered them to be a source of joy in her heart. She wished she could remember more, if she did, she would never banish them.

Yesterday, Maria had effortlessly painted a picture of the late Baroness just by looking at the Children. The photograph confirmed how detailed her observations were. It now all made sense: not only were their resemblances obvious to her, the Captain must have seen them as well. When he looked upon the faces of Louisa and Friedrich, he saw her, but he could not touch her. He could not hold her in his arms. For him, it was better to not have anything, than to try to find solace in the present where her memories were everbearing. Instead, it obvioulsy hurt him to remember.

"I bet he barely had recovered from the loss of the Austria he had put his life on the line for, and then the Baroness passed away. His world would have been thrown into so much disorder, there would have been so little light. Who would have supported him when he was supposed to be the epitome of bravery and strength?"

With these revelations, Maria began to piece together the significance of the ballroom and the rusted doorknob on the boathouse. When he lost his wife, he stopped living; it was as complex as it was simple. Tears began to stream down Maria's cheeks as she realized the depth of this man's love and more importantly, his loss. He needed someone to show him the way, and Maria realized that it was God's will that she was sent here to help in some small way. Even if it was just to prepare this family for a new mother. Hopefully the Captain could begin to live his life and be himself once again.

Maria neatly assembled the items she had looked over and placed them gently back in the box. Looking down at the pages and images, she picked up the folio that contained the image of the children and the Captain and his wife. She wasn't quite ready to part with that one just yet, and with the Captain in Vienna, he would not realize it was missing. Maria wasn't even sure if he realized that this box still sat on the shelf, since he had banished all evidence that the Baroness had even existed from the villa.

Closing the lid, she rose from the chair, took a deep breath, and placed it back in its original place. She bent down to pick up the book she had originally come searching for. It was her hope that by learning more about the Maria Theresa Cross she could learn more about the Captain's efforts in the Great War. Instead, she discovered more than she could ever have hoped for. She was indebted to the person who had cared enough to assemble these memories, and she was quite certain that it had been the late Baroness.

With new perspective, and her eyes still wet with tears, Maria opened the folio and looked on the faces of the Captain and his wife. She studied them intently for several minutes, studying their expressions, marvelling at the resemblance between the Baroness and Louisa, and she recognized the Captain's features in Liesl and Brigitta. Closing the folio once more, Maria shuffled her feet towards the desk and pulled the chain on the lamp. At once, the room was plunged into darkness. She would come back tomorrow for some new reading material. Right now, there were too many thoughts floating around in her head to focus on reading. Adjusting to the darkness, she followed the light coming in from the main foyer and headed in that direction.

Pulling the door shut behind her, she once again took in all the details in this great foyer that she had first encountered yesterday - the one that seemed so un-lived in. Today it had so much more meaning than it did upon her arrival. She could now imagine life before the Baroness had passed, this space alive with activity. Great vases of flowers would have dotted the space and the children's toys would have been strewn about. The footsteps of the children would have reverberated throughout this entry way as they ran down the stairs and then eventually outside through the terrace door.

She crept in the direction of the ballroom and when she reached the doors, she looked around to ensure that no one would spot her. She turned the knob and stepped inside. Unlike yesterday when she was mesmerized with its beauty, tonight she felt the sadness that the Captain carried. She finally understood what he had meant when he said that some rooms were not to be disturbed. She understood him now, well, at least a little more than she did yesterday.

Armed with this new appreciation, she took a deep breath and turned about the ballroom as the light from the foyer penetrated in angled beams which pierced the darkness. She walked over to the piano and set the photographs on top of it, opening it up as if they were displayed on someone's mantle. Standing still once more, she put her hands together, bowed her head and sent a little prayer to the Baroness in Heaven. Maria wanted the Baroness to know that she was thankful for what she had learned this evening and that she would shower her children with all the love and affection she possibly could. Hopefully it would be enough to hold them over until their father was married again and they would be able to move on together as a family once more. Lifting her head, she curtseyed to the Baroness and whispered, "Gott segne dich". She retrieved the photo, walked out of the room, closed the big door gently behind her, and made her way upstairs to bed.

[1-4] are excerpts from the real CVT's book – "To the Last Salute"

[5] You may 'recognize' this photo from the description: it's a photograph of the real Von Trapp Children that was taken in 1921. If you go to the Georg and Agathe Foundation website, look under the "Heritage" tab, and then select "History: Georg and Agathe".