ATOP Chapter Forty-Six

It was the Second Morning. That was all Rachel could think as she woke early that day. The second morning since her sisters had been found.

They were in France now, and likely to be there for at least a couple of weeks yet. They couldn't take the girls home until the adoption visas were finalized... there were so many, many papers to deal with. It made Rachel more grateful than ever for Ronnie... he seemed to know what he was doing. And she didn't have a clue. Her own immigration experiences had been mostly illegal until she had become a war bride. 

The hotel room was dark and silent except for the thin rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains... and someone standing close to the light, leaning forward to peer in the mirror above the bureau. Rachel watched as Rebekah ran frustrated fingers through her cropped hair, pulled it back, tried to push it onto her head, attempted twisting it into a bun... and finally let it fall with a groan.

"Bekah?" At Rachel's call, the girl in front of the mirror started guiltily, hands flying to her hair again. "Are you alright?"

A pause and then a muttered response in Yiddish. Rachel glanced at Shonie, still sleeping peacefully by her side, and climbed out of bed. 

"There are bobby pins in my suitcase," she added, approaching Bekah as if she was a frightened, wild animal. "And a hairbrush and... will you let me help? I can help..."

"You... you know nothing of what I have suffered..." Bekah's words shot like arrows and every one of them hurt. Rachel backed away. 

"Let me... here... I..." she stammered and turned to fumble in the bag she had left on the side table. She found the pins and the brush, trying to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking. "Bekah, please... do not look at me like that. You are beautiful, my sister, beautiful. We can fix your hair so that no one will know how long it is. Please. Come... sit..." she gestured to a chair and moved to turn on a lamp. 

Bekah stared at her a moment longer and with a sigh, sank into the chair. 

"You are going to have another baby," she raised an eyebrow as she ran her eyes over Rachel's middle. "It is his?" she nodded toward the door where Ronnie stayed alone in the adjoining room.

"Bekah..." Rachel frowned. "Of course. We have been married for more than a year."

"That's right..." Bekah sighed again. "You are going to have a half-Jewish baby."

"And he will be a beautiful, precious little one. Or she, if it is a girl." Rachel smiled as she picked up the brush and gently ran it through Bekah's chopped locks. The younger girl grew suddenly stiff... and then slumped in the chair, her shoulders shaking. She was crying... without tears.

"Your hands... Rachel..." she choked back a sob. "Rachel, your hands feel like Mama's..." Reaching up, she clasped Rachel's hand and leaned her head against it.

♡♡♡

Telegram from Ronald Stewart to James and Donna Stewart and Malcom and Katharine Scott, March, 1947

REBEKAH AND RISHONA ADLER FOUND STOP FINALIZING PAPERS NOW STOP WILL BE COMING HOME IN THREE OR FOUR WEEKS IF ALL GOES WELL STOP GOD IS GOOD STOP RONNIE

Telegram from James and Donna Stewart to Ronald Stewart, March, 1947

REJOICING AT GOOD NEWS STOP CANT WAIT FOR YOUR RETURN STOP BENJIE ASKS ABOUT ALL OF YOU EVERY DAY STOP GOD BLESS YOU AND BRING YOU ALL SAFELY HOME STOP MOM AND DAD

Telegram from Malcom and Katharine Scott to Ronald Stewart, March, 1947

FILLED WITH JOY AT THE GOOD NEWS STOP CANT WAIT TO MEET THE GIRLS STOP PLANNING TO BE IN JEFFERSON WHEN YOU GET BACK STOP EXCITING NEWS HERE TOO BUT WILL WAIT TO TELL TILL YOU GET BACK STOP SENDING LOTS OF LOVE STOP MAC AND KATIE

♡♡♡

"This is Josh and Emma," Rachel slid another photograph towards Bekah. "I know you will love them. Josh is... how do you say it, Ronnie...?"

"A clown," Ronnie said drily and Rachel laughed.

"Jah, a clown, he is a clown, Bekah. And Emma is so sweet. She is one of my best friends now. And oh, wait until you try the cookies that she makes!"

"Who is this?" Bekah pushed aside the photographs that were scattered over the table and reached for another one. Shonie picked up the aforementioned picture of Josh and Emma... a wedding picture, no less... and smiled at it. 

"That is Mickey," Rachel smiled. "Ronnie's little brother. His real name is Michael but I do not think I have ever heard anyone call him that... except the time he spilled a gallon of honey on the porch steps and his mother shouted at him." 

Bekah quirked a crooked half-smile, almost involuntarily, as she stared at the picture in her hand.

"What was he doing with the honey?"

"Ach, I do not know," Rachel laughed. "Who can tell what ideas that crazy boy comes up with?"

"He was trying to set up a gopher trap," Ronnie grinned. "That was the week of the county fair. Terrible things happen at county fairs, take it from one who knows."

"He was catching gophers at the fair?" Rachel looked just as confused as Bekah.

"Sure," Ronnie chuckled. "Very large gophers. Sneak up on someone when they're asleep, pour honey all over them, set up a bucket of water over their head that's rigged to dump when they get up... you can do all sorts of things with it... The fair is the perfect time cuz there are always people sleeping in random corners of the livestock barns..."

Bekah looked at Rachel and slowly shook her head as she muttered something in German. Rachel shrugged and answered in the same language. Ronnie stifled a sigh and turned to Shonie, who was concentrating very hard on the photographs. She had sorted them according to who was in them and lined them all up very carefully, as if studying for a test of sorts.

"Y'know what we should do, Shonie?" he asked suddenly and she looked up, eyes wide and eager. "We should go get some ice cream, eh? Kinda getting boring sitting around this hotel room, don't you think? Ever had ice cream?"

She shook her head and Bekah glared up at him.

"She's hardly ever had normal, decent food," she snapped, her voice harsh.

"She will now," Ronnie answered firmly. "Both of you. All you can eat of the best food we can get. And that's a promise, Rebekah."

Bekah met his steady gaze and sparks seemed to fly from her eyes. Rachel saw the grey in Ronnie's eyes and hastily pushed back her chair.

"Jah, ice cream, it sounds lovely. Shonie, come, you shall change into your new pink dress. It is lovely, jah?"

Shonie smiled again... she had a faint, tiny smile, but it radiated sweetness... and she nodded. 

"Oh, you dear sweet thing..." Rachel swept her sister into an embrace. Her tears had started again, as they had so often in the past several days... but she laughed through them. "Ach, my dear, precious little sister..." she slipped back into German, the words flowing easily.

"Mmm..." Shonie murmured, reaching up to wipe a tear from Rachel's cheek. The tiny smile grew just a little bit wider.

♡♡♡

To Whom it May Concern...

I'm afraid none of us is much good at writing letters of this sort, but we'll give it a shot... and hope we're going about this in the right way. I have a story to tell... about the bravest man I've ever known and... well... to get straight to the point, I think... we all think... that he ought to get a medal or something because of what he did. We can provide as many eyewitness accounts as you could possibly ever want.

His name is Ronald Stewart and he lives in Jefferson, Ohio. During pretty much the entire war he served with the First Infantry Division of the US Army, as a private, a sergeant, and a second lieutenant. He fought in North Africa and Italy, went ashore with the first wave on Omaha Beach, D-Day, helped liberate Paris, and led an entire company of soldiers through the Bulge when his captain was shot and there was no one else to take command. He lost most of that company during a German ambush, but he managed to lead the survivors almost to safety... when they came across another ambush. The others were too weak to fight so he sent them away and single-handedly faced an enemy squad, saving the lives of all the men left in his command, and a civilian widow and child they had found along the way.

He was captured after wiping out half that squad on his own, and taken to a German prison camp, where he went on to lead a successful escape that freed over fifty men, among them many who were so sick they would have died had he not gotten them out. To save the life of a fellow soldier, he gave himself up and never managed to escape. At the orders of those in charge of the camp, because of what he had done for his fellow prisoners, he faced near-execution and then was beaten almost to death by the prison guards.

I don't know about you, but to me, that seems pretty much the bravest darn thing I've ever heard. And over there, in the middle of that fighting, brave things like that meant a lot. It's hard to explain, us that were there, to people who sat at home while we fought for them... but I'm telling you... this man saved a lot of lives over there.

All of us whose names are signed below owe our lives to Ronald Stewart. We'll give whatever proof you need. He ought to be honored for this.

Signed, 

Jack Davis                                           John Marshall

Carl Davis                                         Daniel Asher

Gregory Thompson                       Samuel Ross

Loren Jamison                                  John Riley

David Kaczynski                              Thomas Wade             

Captain Reginald Martin Phillips

"And it goes on to list a few dozen more names, as you probably already know," the secretary glanced over the bundle of papers in his hand. "We've been reviewing this case since September of last year. The entire incident is extremely well-documented, there are twenty-seven signed eye witness accounts here, and contact information for enough men to get at least... seventeen more, it looks like. I called you in, Captain Phillips, because your name is here on the letter and you have also provided an eye-witness account. I trust your judgement and... frankly... I'm interested in hearing more. What can you tell me about this Lieutenant Ronald Stewart?"

The Captain smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"I can only reiterate what has been said in the letter... Ronnie Stewart is the bravest man I've ever met. Just a boy, and he has the heart of a true leader. I can personally vouch for every last one of those accounts that tells what he did in the prison camp. As for what he did before being captured, I didn't know him then, but knowing him as I do know, I am completely confident that it is absolutely true."

"Did he receive the purple heart and the POW medal?"

"I believe he has two purple hearts," the Captain nodded. "One from the African campaign and one from D-Day. He ought to have gotten one for what happened in that camp, if you ask me. They almost killed him there."

"So they openly defied the Geneva Conventions."

"It's been done before," the Captain chuckled humorlessly. "We've all heard the stories coming out of Japan."

"Yes, but... the Germans were always careful with American prisoners..."

"That's a blatant lie. True, they did not torture Americans the way the Japanese did, far be it from me to undermine those atrocities, but the Germans were certainly capable of great evil. You've seen the concentration camp footage, I assume. The POW camps were never as bad as the Jewish camps, but you can see to what lengths the Nazis would go. I did not witness what happened to Lieutenant Stewart when they took him away, but when they brought him back to the barracks, he could not stand on his own. He was unconscious within a few minutes, and delirious for days after that. Head injuries, broken and dislocated bones, deep gashes... he was covered in blood, and bleeding from the mouth too. It was horrific."

"All this because he led the escape?"

"Yes. The German corporal would have shot him, he had a gun pressed against his head, but... they decided to beat him instead, I suppose."

"There was a civilian widow and child mentioned," the secretary mused, paging through the papers. "Do you know who she is? Is there any more information on her? It's not required, but I would be interested in her account... I suppose she would be difficult to find though, maybe impossible..."

"Not impossible at all," the Captain pushed a photograph across the desk. "I've not met her personally, but I've heard much about her. Her name is Rachel Stewart."

"Rachel Stewart, eh?" The secretary picked up the photo, noting the smiling young couple, the woman with a young child in her arms... and then he realized what the Captain had said. "Stewart, you say?"

"Yes." The Captain's smile returned, wider than before. "She married Ronnie Stewart after the war. Seems he searched all over Europe to find her, and there she was in a refugee camp in France. That's their wedding picture there."

"A fascinating story..." the secretary shook his head slowly. "And one that will definitely be going up for more discussion and consideration."