The Incidental Spy

Chapter 3 & 4

Chapter Three

1935 -- Chicago

But Josef didn't come up with a plan, and three weeks later, Lena boarded a ship for New York. It was a rough voyage, and she spent most of it below deck, green and seasick. She vowed never to travel by sea again. Once in New York she passed through immigration, then followed the instructions in her aunt's letter and took a train bound for Chicago.

Her "aunt" Ursula met her at the station. A thin, wiry brunette with pale blue eyes, Ursula had married Reinhard Steiner, a math professor originally from Regensburg. They'd come to the Midwest five years earlier, when Reinhard was offered a position at the University of Chicago. Now, as they drove by taxi to a spacious, leafy neighborhood called Hyde Park, Lena found Ursula brisk and all business, but not unkind. Clearly, she had been making plans.

"... English lessons... " She was saying. "Typing, too, so you can get a job. We will lend you the money, of course, and you can pay us back bit by bit when you are employed. And Reinhard has connections at the University, so we might be able to place you there after you're qualified. The weakness in the economy still lingers, so you will be lucky to get any job at all."

Lena thanked her and gazed out the window. True, she was sixteen, an age at which many German girls left school to work or marry, but she had somehow expected—no, hoped—she would have a year or so left to study for her baccalaureate. It wasn't that she didn't want to join the adult world. It was just too soon. Three weeks ago she and Josef were in the Tiergarten stealing kisses. Now, her childhood was over. She blinked back tears.

***

The next six months were filled with English tutors, secretarial school, and letters from home. Josef wrote regularly, telling her about his days—he was studying at home, learning how to cook, taking long walks. He missed her terribly, he declared, and would never stop loving her. Her parents wrote cheerful letters too, never mentioning how they were coping with Hitler's restrictions. Lena knew her mother was trying to make life sound normal so Lena wouldn't worry. But the more cheerful the letter, the worse Lena knew things were. She read the newspapers. She wrote back, begging them to leave Berlin for Budapest, Paris, or New York. But leaving Germany was never mentioned, at least in the letters that came back.

Starting around the High Holidays, letters from Germany became less frequent. Then, in December a letter came from Josef.

You are lucky you got out when you did. Things here are very bad. My parents have decided to go to Budapest. I don't know how much you know in America, but in September Hitler passed the Nuremburg Race Laws. These laws strip all German Jews of their citizenship. We are now "subjects" in Hitler's Reich. The laws also forbid Jews to marry or have relations with Aryans or to hire Aryan women as household help. They also presume to define how much Jewish blood makes one fully Jewish.

So, now everyone is arguing whether someone is a full Jew or part Jew. What does it matter? My father says if we stay we will be killed—they are considering even harsher laws. We will be nothing more than criminals. It is hard to believe.

Friends of my parents in Budapest have arranged for an apartment for us, but apparently it is quite small. We will leave in a few days. I miss you desperately. I have not seen your parents. Perhaps they have already left?

The next day a letter came from her mother. Unlike Josef's, it was strangely devoid of news. Just the same trivia her mother always wrote. Lena immediately replied asking why they hadn't left. Had they talked to Josef? Again she begged them to leave Berlin. And then she cried.

She never got a response.

Chapter Four

May, 1936 -- Chicago

It was exactly a year later when Ursula declared her fit to be hired. "I was a secretary myself before we came to America, you know. That's how I met Reinhard. So I know all the tricks a lazy girl does to pass herself off as competent."

Lena didn't know whether that was directed at her, but when her aunt smiled, relief washed over her. She had learned English easily; within four months she was practically speaking like a native.

"Reinhard has already talked to people at the University. The physics department is looking for a secretary. And..." Ursula's smile broadened, "...there are two German students in the department whose English is not so good. They are thrilled at having a secretary who is bi-lingual. Especially in today's world, " she added.

Lena swallowed. "But I know nothing about physics, Aunt Ursula. In Gymnasium I got most of the fundamental concepts wrong. Acceleration, rate, gravity... I'm hopeless."

Ursula waved a dismissive hand. "You don't need to know physics. I could barely add two and two and look where I ended up."

But Lena didn't want to meet and marry a German academician, like her aunt. Josef was waiting for her in Budapest, and as soon as she could, she would bring him to the States. In the meantime, though, she took the position.

***

Ryerson Physical Laboratory, a pleasant, ivy-covered building on 58th Street edged one side of the university quad. Lena liked to walk through it on her way to work, imagining she was a student at the university. She wondered if she would ever reclaim those carefree days.

Although the department was small, it prided itself on two Nobel Prizes won by its scientists, one of whom, Arthur Compton, was the department chair. She quickly learned that Ursula was right about one thing. She didn't need to know anything about physics.

The one imperative was to make sure her typing was accurate. Most of the documents contained columns of symbols and fractions and percentages that, while a mystery to her, were known to the scientists, so it was critical to get them right. When she asked why, Professor Compton explained that the department's mission was to instill the habit of careful, intelligent observation of the external world.

"In order to do that," he said, fingering the small mustache that looked a little too much like Hitler's, Lena thought, "we expect our graduate students to replicate classical experiments by eminent investigators. And that includes the data they observe and analyze."

Lena nodded. She was intimidated by Compton but more relaxed around the students, who told her Compton's nickname was "Holly." But they never explained why, and she never figured it out. She and the scientists chatted and laughed and traded jokes that were surprisingly funny. There were the two German graduate students who had come to America a year earlier and soon depended on her to help write their papers. A young Brit and three Americans also hung around.

"There are actually three of us Germans," Franz told her one day. "But Karl is at Columbia University in New York for the semester."

"Why?" Lena asked.

The second German, Heinrich, smiled. "That's where the action is. They're doing lots of exciting experiments on the atom. I can't wait for him to come back and tell us everything."

Thankfully, Lena knew what an atom was. "But why are they experimenting with the atom?"

"Splitting it," Franz said. "Even Einstein thinks it might be possible."

"To what end?"

"Who knows? But they say Hitler is doing the same thing. So, of course, the Americans must too..." his voice trailed off. "At any rate, Karl will be back in September."