The Red Cross Girls with Pershing to Victory

"People come to our home all the time to see my brother, but Freia and I are never allowed in the room, only my father. Then they whisper together so we may not hear."

Major Hersey smiled; Gretchen was a born gossip, even in her babyhood, already he had observed that she deeply enjoyed recounting the histories of her family and friends, more especially what Gretchen unconsciously must have regarded as their weaknesses.

"But your brother, Captain Liedermann, is ill, perhaps it is natural that he does not wish a little chatterbox about him all the time. If I had been confined to my bed for as many months as he has, why I should have turned into a great bear. One day you would have come in to speak to me, Gretchen, and then you would have heard a low growl and two arms would have gone around you and hugged you like this," and Major Hersey suited his action to his words.

After a little squeak half of delight and half of fear, Gretchen settled herself more comfortably in her companion's lap.

However, she was not to be deterred from continuing her own line of conversation.

In the years to come, Major Jimmie had a vision of this same little German girl, grown older and stouter, her yellow pigtails bound round her wide head, sitting beside just such a fireside as his own and talking on and on of her own little interests and concerns, forever contented if her hearer would only pretend to listen.

For the sake of the listener of the future Jimmie hoped that the small Gretchen would continue to have the same soothing effect that she was at present producing upon him.

"My brother is not always in bed," Gretchen protested. "Now and then when he thinks he is alone, and I am only peeping in at the door, he climbs out of bed and walks about his room. One day one of his friends was in the room with him and when he got up and stamped about they both laughed."

"Oh, well, any fellow would laugh if he was growing strong again after a long illness," Major Hersey answered a little sleepily, realizing that Gretchen really required no comment on his part.

"Besides, you must be mistaken, your mother told me that Captain Liedermann had not been so well of late, nothing serious, a little infection in a wound he had believed healed. As for guests who come frequently to your brother's room, why I never knew so quiet a household as your's, kleines Madchen! During the many hours I am here in this sitting-room, no one ever rings the front door bell or passes my door."

As a matter of fact Major Hersey's sitting-room was upon the first floor of the house and near its entrance. Formerly his room must have been either a small study or reception room, as the large drawing-rooms were across the hall. But these were never in use at the present time and kept always darkened, as a household symbol that all gayety and pleasure had vanished from the homes of Germany.

It occurred to Jimmie Hersey at this instant to wonder if Hedwig Liedermann had no friends. She was a handsome girl with light brown hair and eyes and a gentle manner. Surely there must be some young German officer in Coblenz who regarded her with favor! But if this were true he had never appeared at her home at any hour when Major Hersey had caught sight of him. It would not be difficult to recognize a German officer, even if he should be wearing civilian clothes.

Besides why did Fraulein Liedermann not entertain her girl friends in the drawing-rooms of her home? These rooms must have been used for social purposes before the war, as the position of Colonel Liedermann's family in Coblenz was of almost equal importance with the German nobility.

"Oh, no one comes to call upon us at the front door any longer," Gretchen added amiably. "You see you are an American officer and use this door and our friends do not wish to see you. They do not seem to like you."

"They – they don't," Major Hersey thought other things to himself, although naturally, in view of his audience, saying nothing unpleasant aloud.

How stupid he was not to have guessed what the smallest daughter of the house had just related! After all one could understand, the German viewpoint since in spite of having been told to love our enemies, how few of us have accomplished it?

It could not be agreeable to the defeated officers and soldiers of the conquered German army to enter the homes of their friends and find them occupied by the victors.

"Better run away now, Gretchen, it must be getting near your tea-time," the American officer suggested, the little girl having occasioned an unpleasant train of thought by her final chatter.

But before Gretchen, who was not disposed to hurry, had departed, they were both startled by the sudden ringing of the front door bell, the bell whose silence they had been discussing, then they heard the noise of people outside.

A little later, one of the maids having opened the door, Gretchen and Major Hersey recognized familiar voices in the hall.

The same instant Gretchen escaped.

Then followed a cry from Frau Liedermann, and Sergeant Hackett's voice and another voice replying.

Major Hersey, unable to guess what had taken place, and anxious, joined the little group outside his door.

In his arms Sergeant Hackett was carrying Freia. It was apparent that the little girl must have fallen and hurt herself, yet evidently her injury was not serious. They were accompanied by Nora Jamison and the little French girl, Louisa.

"I am so sorry, Frau Liedermann, a number of children were playing in the park and Freia must have fallen among some stones. She was so frightened I thought it best to come home with her and we had the good fortune to meet Sergeant Hackett along the way. I don't think you will find there is anything serious the matter; I am sorry if we have alarmed you. I must return now to the hospital."

At this moment unexpectedly Frau Liedermann began to weep. She was a little like a grown-up Gretchen, and one felt instinctively that she was out of place in her husband's household. He was a stern and gloomy old man, possibly too proud to reveal to strangers how bitterly angered he was by the German defeat and the disgrace of his former emperor.

But Freia, whose name came to her from the legendary German goddess, who represented "Life and light and laughter and love," was the adored child of the family and particularly of the little mother to whom she was "her wonder child."

"But you will stay and see if Freia is seriously hurt? You are a Red Cross nurse and must know better than I," Frau Liedermann pleaded. "Freia has so often said that she wished to have us meet, but you would not come to our home and I could not go to you at your American Red Cross hospital. Can the war not be over among us women at least? I have relatives, brothers and sisters in America from whom I have not heard in four years. Yet my husband thinks I am not a true German because I wish to be happy and make friends again with our former foes."

Just for a fraction of a second Nora Jamison's eyelids were lowered and her face changed color. Was it possible that she did not desire to forgive and forget as the little German frau appeared to wish? Was there not a grave near Château-Thierry and a memory which must forever divide them?

And yet of course one did not wish to be unkind.

"Please stay just a minute," Freia pleaded.

The following moment Major Hersey watched the little procession climbing the stairs to the second floor of the house where the family were living at present. First Frau Liedermann led the way, then Freia walking, but holding close to Miss Jamison's hand, Gretchen and Louisa just behind them.

Afterwards Major Hersey was glad to have been a witness to this first introduction of Nora Jamison, into the German household.

CHAPTER XV

A Re-Entrance

ON this same evening Major Hersey and Sergeant Hackett were sitting before the same fire, shortly after dinner. They were talking in an idle fashion, neither of them particularly interested. Both would be pleased when the evening was over and they were in bed. Major Hersey had given his orders to his sergeant for the following day and then had suggested that he sit with him for a time longer.

The days were not difficult in Coblenz where one had many duties and interests, besides the association with one's fellow soldiers and a few other friends. But unless one went constantly to the German restaurants and theatres and movies, one could not find sufficient entertainment in the various Y. M. C. A. and Red Cross headquarters to occupy every evening of the week.

It was a brilliant winter night and the young men had left the curtains of the window open and the blinds unclosed so that the early moonlight shone into the room.

Therefore both of them noticed a soldier-messenger march down the street from the corner and enter the front yard of the house where they were living.

In answer to a command from his superior officer, Sergeant Hackett met the messenger at the front door. The soldier bore a note which was addressed to Major Hersey. The note requested that Major Hersey come at once to the headquarters of his Colonel.

There was no explanation as to why his presence had become suddenly necessary. However, without any particular emotion either of interest or curiosity, Major Hersey at once set out.

The streets were fairly deserted. The citizens of Coblenz were living under military law and, although the laws were not severe, two demands were made upon them, one that no arms or ammunition of any kind remain in the possession of any German, the second that they be inside their own homes at a certain hour each night.

This hour had not arrived and yet there were not many persons about, a few groups of American soldiers on leave, but scarcely any Germans.

The house of Colonel Winfield was at no great distance away.

"Most extraordinary thing, Hersey!" the Colonel was soon explaining, "you might guess for a dozen years why I have sent for you and never hit the correct answer. Don't look so mystified over my words. I have not sent for you to give you any military command, or to ask your advice on military matters, as I have now and then in spite of your being too youthful for the title you have been lucky enough to earn. I have sent for you because tonight you and I may regard ourselves as characters in a play. In a short time I hope to introduce the heroine."

Colonel Winfield was an elderly man a good deal past fifty, with closely cropped grey hair, small twinkling blue eyes under heavy brows and a mouth which could be extremely stern when the occasion demanded and equally humorous under opposite conditions.

Tonight he was seated in a large, handsome room, a little too elaborately furnished after German ideas of luxury, and before a wide table covered with books and old American newspapers and magazines.

Major Hersey could only stare at him in amazement, and with a total lack of comprehension.

"I might as well explain to you your part in the drama, Hersey. You haven't at present a very fortunate role, although I cannot tell how it may develop. The facts are that two women, or I should say one woman and a girl, arrived in Coblenz this afternoon without satisfactory passports. They were detained by one of our officers and because of something or other in their story, perhaps because of their appearance and manner, the circumstances were reported to me. I believe the young woman knew my name and requested that she be allowed to speak to me. I was busy and only saw her and her companion a few moments ago. Then she asked that I send for you and for Mrs. David Clark, saying you would both be able to identify her. Most extraordinary story she related, I find it difficult either to believe or disbelieve!" And Colonel Winfield leaned back in his chair studying the younger officer's face.

If he expected to find any clue to his puzzle in Major Jimmie's expression at this instant he was disappointed. The younger man was nonplused.