Thank you for the generous gift of tickets to your concerts. It will be the highlight of our year.
God bless you,
Geraldine Klein
Chaisley pressed the letter against her heart. Sobs shook her frame.
If she lived in Germany—would they have done the same to her?
The thought sobered her. Did others know about these horrors being done to innocent people?
Why, God?The cry ripped from her heart toward the heavens. Hiccups rattled her diaphragm, and she tried to slow her breathing. Her fingers scanned over the text again. This time, questions assailed her.
How were they living in hiding?
Who was helping them?
She chewed on the corner of her lip. The date of the letter was almost two weeks ago. Had they moved from wherever they were since then?
Folding the letters back together, Chaisley slid them into the envelope and then put it in her pocket.
A new purpose behind this European tour was before her.
She would find Mary Beth and her mother and get them to safety. No matter what.
Amsterdam, Netherlands—Friday, March 18, 1938
Rick sat in his new employer’s office and stared out the window. He was supposed to start his cover assignment as a driver days ago but was sent home after the news of Germany taking over Austria reached them. This morning, he’d been called back in.
Prayerfully, he still had a job. He hadn’t heard from his contact in Amsterdam—who was supposed to relay news from headquarters—for two weeks, and each day more and more people sought refuge in Holland.
Most of them Jews.
How could the world be ignorant to what was happening? Newspapers and the radio kept them up-to-date. Or... was no one reporting the truth?
He raked a hand through his hair, fighting the frustration swelling in his stomach. His work with SIS gave him an inside look at what was happening in Germany, Britain, and other parts of Europe. Without this job, he would be like so many others. Head down. Working to feed a family and keep a roof overhead. Struggling to live one day at a time.
It was difficult to see the hardships of others when survival was foremost in the mind. When fear ruled every decision made for the safety of loved ones. He understood that. He did.
He rested his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. It wasn’t just the Germans listening to Nazi propaganda. His own government’s disposition of appeasement was suffering more and more disapproval from the British people. Germany’s manipulation of British media was weakening, thanks to brave diplomatic correspondents.
But the Führer’s propaganda machine had done a fair amount of damage. They seemed to say something different to whatever group of people they were speaking to, placating the whims and longings of the crowds.
Especially the young men.
Rick stood and walked to a large window looking over an industrialpart of Amsterdam. It was cloudy today, which matched his mood as memories from years ago swam to the surface.
Young men, looking sharp in their crisp Nazi uniforms, marching in unison in a parade for Hitler.
Bonfires of books, furniture, and other goods lighting the night sky in Berlin.
The glee and joy as the Nazi youth harassed Jewish citizens.
Then the Olympics happened, and all the while, behind the scenes, the man was planning to take over as a world power and do abominable things to people he deemed unworthy of life.
Some were willing to give Hitler the benefit of the doubt. He was making them strong again. He was helping the economy. They didn’t have to pay attention to what he was doing in Germany.
Then Hitler invaded Austria.
