As they were finishing their food about half an hour later, Reissner’s head came up. He was seated so that he was facing the door of the restaurant. Hans saw that he was staring at something and half turned to look. But he was behind a pillar and couldn’t see the door or what had caught Reissner’s attention.
Reissner took another bite and then lifted his head again. He leaned forward, squinting a little. “Hmm. That girl looks familiar.”
Again Hans turned. Now he could see the back of a man but nothing more. He reached across and nudged the missionary. “I thought you elders weren’t supposed to be looking at girls.”
Reissner shot him a look and then stared some more. “Do you know her, Elder Jackson?”
“Nope,” he said. “Never seen her before.”
“Never mind. But I could swear I know her from some—” He stopped and snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. Remember, Elder? We saw her about a month ago at the Johannistag celebration.”
“The what?” Jackson was blank.
“St. John the Baptist’s Day. We went with the Arnheims. Remember? They had that huge bonfire.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “And she was on the grandstand with her parents. Count and Countess something or other.”
Hans lunged across the table and grabbed Reissner’s arm. “What did you say? You saw Magdalena?”
“If that’s her name, yes.”
“A month ago?”
“Yeah, about that.”
“That’s not possible. She’s with her family in Scotland.”
“Not that day, she wasn’t,” Reissner said. “I’m sure that’s her. She’s beautiful. You don’t forget a face like that.”
Hans didn’t hear any of that. He nearly knocked his chair over as he leaped up and spun around. In two steps he cleared the pillar and had a full view of the room. For a moment he didn’t see anyone that even resembled Magdalena, but then a movement caught his eye and he saw a waitress leading a couple toward one of the small back rooms where people could dine in private. He only got a glimpse, but it was enough. It was her! She was back! He felt like leaping into the air and shouting hallelujah.
Working his way through the tables and the thinning crowd, he followed after the waitress. She was just closing the door on the room as he entered the hallway, so he stopped and examined a painting on the wall until she was past him and out of view. Then he moved forward. Hesitating for only a moment, he knocked on the door.
“Come in.” It was the man’s voice.
Hans opened the door and stopped. They were sitting together, shoulder to shoulder, on the same side of the table so that they both faced the door. He could scarcely believe it. It was indeed Lady Magdalena Margitte Maria von Kruger. And she was as radiant and beautiful as he had ever seen her. The pair’s heads were together, and they were talking softly to each other. Looking up in surprise, the man started to get up. Magdalena’s head came up. She gave a little squeal and fell back. “Hans?”
Hans recognized the man—or boy, actually—instantly. He was a student at the academy as well. His name was Rolf Godecke. He was a year older than Hans and had just graduated with a specialty in European history. They hadn’t had a lot of classes together, but Hans had always liked him because—his eyes narrowed—because he was the son of a clothing merchant in Augsburg. Like Hans, he was one of the twenty-five percent of the student body who came from lower-class families. All of that flashed through Hans’s head in an instant.
Before he could process it, however, Magdalena leaped to her feet.
“Hans? What are you doing here? I thought you went home for summer break.”
“No, Maggie. What are you doing here?” He started forward. “I didn’t think you were coming back until Monday.” He wanted to run to her and sweep her up in his arms, but she didn’t move from behind the table, and Rolf was standing between them.
“When did you get back?” he finally asked, suddenly aware of how awkward this was.
“Uh . . . a little while ago.”
“I am so glad to see you again.”
Rolf looked back and forth between them, his expression a combination of awkward confusion and open irritation. Hans ignored him. “Look, can I talk to you for a minute?” He looked at Rolf. “Would that be all right? I’ll bring her right back.”
Turning, he looked at Magdalena. It was clear how Rolf felt about it, but she finally nodded. “I’ll just be a minute, Rolf. All right?”
He nodded and stepped back, making room for Magdalena to come out around the table. As she came up to Hans, he went to take her by the arm, but she jerked away and hurried past him out into the hall. He quickly followed.
As soon as the door shut behind him, she turned on him. “You can’t do this, Hans. You just can’t just barge in on me like this when I’m with someone.”
He was looking around and didn’t answer. He took a few steps and opened the next door. Another small dining room. And it was empty. He held the door open and motioned for her to go in. She did, her skirts swirling angrily as she pushed past him. He checked the hall once more to make sure Rolf wasn’t going to follow them and then shut the door.
For a moment, he just stared at her, drinking her in like a dying man gulps down water. Then he moved to her, took her in his arms, and leaned down to kiss her. She jerked her head away and pulled free of him. “No, Hans! Not now.”
“Aw, come on, Maggie. I haven’t seen you for six weeks. I’ve missed—”
“Don’t call me Maggie. I’ve told you. I hate that name.”
“You never said that. You told me you loved it when I called you Maggie.”
“Well, I don’t. So say what you have to say. I need to get back with Rolf.”
“I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I guess I shouldn’t have barged in on you, but when I saw you, I . . .” He took a quick breath. “When can I see you?”
She looked away. “I’m not sure. I’m not in school, you know. And it’s not like you can come to the house and visit me.”
“But that’s got to happen sometime, right? We talked about this before. About how someday maybe we might get married . . .” He let the thought die as he saw the expression on her face. She was incredulous. Shocked.
“You didn’t think I was serious, surely?”
“I—”
“Oh, Hans. We had some fun, that’s all. Lots of laughs. I like you. You’re a great kid.”
Anger flared inside him. “Kid? I’m a year older than you.”
“It’s over, Hans. That’s why I didn’t come see you when I got back.” She reached out and let her fingertips brush his cheeks. “It was a lot of fun, but it’s over.”
Magdalena pushed past him and left the room, slamming the door behind her. He stood there, staring blankly at the door—hurt, angry, confused. And then, an image from years before flashed into his mind. One day, during recess at the school in Oberammergau, the boys had noticed a magnificent thoroughbred horse tied to the hitching rail at one of the wood-carving shops. In awe, the boys gathered around, admiring it. Then, as Hans had watched, a large, black horsefly had landed on its haunches. The horse’s flesh rippled a little, trying to shake it off. The horse noticeably flinched as the fly bit in. Hans stepped in to shoo the fly away. The horse was faster. Its tail flicked up and knocked the horsefly away. When it flew back a moment later, the horse did it again. After that the fly disappeared.
Back at school, Hans had told Herr Holzer about what they had seen. Now he remembered his reply. “Hans, there is a lesson to be learned in that. A horsefly may bite the horse and cause it to flinch, but when all is said and done, the thoroughbred is still a thoroughbred, and the horsefly is still a horsefly.”
Later, as he took Elders Reissner and Jackson to the trolley stop and gave them directions to find his Aunt Paula’s house, Hans was still smoldering and still half dazed. Even though the missionaries could tell that something very upsetting had happened in the Ratskeller, Hans said nothing about it, and they
didn’t ask. Now, walking back to campus, he was muttering to himself under his breath.
“She’s moved on. That’s what it is. She’s found some other poor working-class slob to bestow her radiant presence on. Does that give her some kind of perverse satisfaction? Stooping down to mingle with the unwashed masses? Seeing how the lower half of humanity lives? Tolerating the horsefly to see what it feels like?”
His next thought was grating on him even more than the first. “She didn’t even say she was sorry. Not once. She never once said she was sorry.”
_______________
Chapter Notes
During the years that the Church was waging a legal battle against the United States government to get plural marriage legally recognized, the negative publicity filled newspapers all across the country. It quickly spread across the Atlantic, and the missionary work in Europe was heavily affected. In England, the Church came under a lot of persecution, but generally the British protection of religious liberty prevented local governments from stopping the Church from functioning.
In Germany, however, though there were laws protecting freedom of worship, these were enforced with differing levels of vigor throughout the fragmented German states. In the 1890s and during the first decade of the twentieth century, many cities and states passed laws making it illegal for Latter-day Saint missionaries to proselytize and for citizens to join the Church or attend its meetings. Mormons were accused of preaching a religion that advocated immoral behavior and disloyalty to the government. The immoral charge was an irony, since it was very common for a German man to have a mistress. Everyone knew this and accepted it, but people were outraged at the idea of a man having two legal wives at the same time.
Nevertheless, so many missionaries were being banned from Germany that in 1904 the German and Swiss Missions were combined, and many missionaries were moved to German-speaking Switzerland. Eventually the persecution began to ease, but the missions were kept combined.
After World War I, things had changed enough that in 1924 a new German-Austrian Mission was divided from the Swiss-German Mission.
It was a common tactic during those years of persecution for missionaries who were thrown out of one location to move to another city or town where they could continue their work for months before the authorities caught up with them. Because this action was often precipitated by local magistrates enforcing laws that were in contradiction to German national law, missionaries felt that bypassing these laws was not contrary to the Church’s commitment to honor and obey the law (see Mormons and Germany: 1914–1933, 26–34; and Mormonism in Germany, 40–60).
Banishment and jailing of missionaries became so common that it did become a bit of a badge of honor for missionaries. One elder joked that it was a good thing that he was banished to another area, because “the intention of the president was to transfer me anyway.” Another wrote his family saying that he had been blessed with another night of “free lodging.”
The story of Elder Rudger A. Clawson, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, who was serving as European Mission President at that time, is found in Mormonism in Germany, 54.
August 6, 1913—Graswang Village, Bavaria, Germany
Inga came through the front door and looked around. The house was empty. She turned toward the stairs. “Annalisa? Is anyone here?”
A head appeared at the top of the stairs. It was Annalisa, Ilse’s first child and Inga’s oldest granddaughter. “I’m here, Grandmama. Mama and the others are out in the barn with Grandpapa.”
“Run and tell Grandpapa that I’m back from the village. And tell him we have a letter from Hans.”
“Yes, Grandmama.” She ran lightly down the stairs and out the back door.
Inga moved to the table and set down her bag of purchases. Dropping into a chair, she took the envelope from her apron pocket and tore it open. “I hope you remembered to tell us what train you will be on,” she murmured.
But when she extracted the letter, she was taken totally aback. There were two lines of hastily scrawled words, with a signature dashed off below them. She let the letter flutter to the table and sat back. “No, Hans. Not again.”
Two minutes later when her husband came in from the barn, she was still sitting there, staring out the window. “So what does he say?” he asked, coming over. “When is he coming?”
Slowly turning, she picked up the letter and, in a dull voice, read, “‘Sorry. Can’t make it home. Too much preparation for fall classes. I’m in the midst of finals. Got to run. Write later.’”
As he sat down at the table beside her, she took a quick breath. “Hans?”
“Ja, Schatzi?”
“I want to go to Munich.”
He jerked up. “What? Now?”
“No. Not tomorrow either. I have to get things ready. But on Friday. I’ve saved enough money to purchase the train ticket. And I’ll stay with Paula, of course. That will be good too. With Wolfie’s new promotion, he’s gone a lot more. I think she’s struggling a little with the new baby.”
He fell back in his chair, not answering. She waited, letting him sort it out in his head.
Finally, he took a deep breath and then let it out in a long, slow sigh. “You think this is about the girl?”
“What else?” she muttered. “He promised he’d come home for a whole week. Now this.”
He said nothing.
“It worries me, Hans. What if those two foolish children take it into their heads to tell her parents they are talking about marriage? You know—” Her mouth fell open as a worse thought hit her. “Surely he wouldn’t run off with her and get married?”
He scoffed openly. “Nein. He would never do that.” But even as he said it, she could see the impact her question was having on him. “Would he?”
She looked away, wringing her hands. That did it. Her husband jumped up, “If I helped you, we could have you catch the afternoon train tomorrow.”
Relief shot through her. “Tomorrow? Yes! That’s good. I think time may be critical.”
He reached out and found her hand. “I don’t understand this,” he said. “When I first saw you, I was smitten. But I never lost my head over you like he’s done.”
“No. You never did, Hans.”
“Stupid boy! He could lose everything.” He leaned over to give her a perfunctory kiss. “Go. Go quickly.”
“Danke, Schatzi.” She paused for a moment, then, “I may stay as long as a week.”
“Stay two weeks if that’s what it takes. Do whatever you have to do. Just stop this nonsense once and for all.”
August 7, 1913—Munich Main Station
Wolfgang Groll was waiting on the platform as Inga descended from the train. He rushed forward, all smiles. “Guten Tag, Inga.” He bent down and kissed her on both cheeks and then took her bag. “So good to see you again. Paula is so excited to have you back so soon. And the children are too.”
“Danke, Wolfie. I am excited to see them too.”
He frowned slightly. “There is one slight problem. I have a new position at my work.” The smile was instantly back. “I am the manager of my section now and supervise nine other people.”
“That’s wonderful.” To her surprise, her voice was suddenly husky. She reached out and touched his arm briefly. “You are a good man, Wolfie. You are a good husband to Paula. And a good father to your children.” She swallowed quickly. “And you are good to me as well.”
She could see that her words had touched him. He looked down at the ground for a moment and then whispered, “Danke schön, Inga.” Then he brightened. “But here is my problem. When I asked my supervisor if I could come and meet you here, he was very happy to let me go. But we are working on a report that must be turned in tomorrow.”
“All right,” she said, not sure what that meant.
“So, I have to go back to the office now. I’ll be working late, so I can’t take you home.”
A stab of panic hit her. He rushed on. “But it’s all right. I ha
ve arranged for a small carriage and driver. He will take you all the way to our home so that you don’t have to worry about changing trolleys.”
“But . . . That will be too much money, Wolfie.”
He leaned forward, grinning as he cupped his hand and whispered in her ear. “Don’t tell anyone, Inga, but with the new position, I got a ten percent increase in my salary.”
• • •
As the carriage pulled up in front of number 16 Herrenstrasse, Inga began fumbling in her purse. The driver, a congenial, grandfatherly man, turned in his seat. “No, Frau. Herr Groll already gave me a generous tip.” He wrapped the reins around a stubby post attached to the wagon seat and jumped down. “Here, let me help you with your bag.”
He helped her down first and then retrieved her bag and set it on the sidewalk beside her. She waved and called out her thanks as he drove away. Immensely relieved that she hadn’t had to traverse that much of Munich on her own, she picked up her bag and started up the steps. But she had only got halfway up when the door opened and a tall young man in a suit stepped out, followed by a second a moment later.
She stopped. So did they. The sun was low in the sky and shining directly in their eyes. The first man raised a hand to shade them. “Guten Tag,” he said politely. Then almost instantly, he leaned forward, peering at her. “Hallo! Is that you, Frau Eckhardt?”
The sun was partially in her eyes too. Surprised at being called by name, she set her bag down. “And how is that you know me?”
But even as she asked, she looked up into his face and recognized who he was. “Ah, you are Young Hans’s friends. Uh . . . Kirchenältester Reissner, right?”
His face lit up with pleasure. “And you remember my companion, Kirchenältester Jackson? Schwester Groll said you were coming, but she didn’t expect you for another hour.” He smiled warmly. “Here, let me help you with your bag.”