As to Anders’s sermon, he didn’t mention a word about it. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but please don’t demean his faithful service to our community by implying that was cowardly of him. I’ve always said the church doesn’t need to interfere in every civil squabble. A pastor must concern himself with heavenly things, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only member of Immanuel Lutheran Church who found last Sunday’s message on the Babylonian captivity very uplifting.
After the service, Annika asked about you. She does sometimes, you know, and it sounds to me that she doesn’t hear from you often. That’s such a shame, dear, your best friend for all those years.
Which brings me to the translation job. I’m surprised you didn’t write or even call after you received the offer, but Major Davies told us all about it on his latest visit, and about your refusal. Half the town knows by now, I’m afraid, although I’m sure you know they didn’t hear it from me. I would guess the leak was Major Davies’s wife, who accompanied him. She seems to be the chatty sort, though very elegant. Used to New York City as she is, she probably doesn’t realize that in a small town, if you speak someone else’s business in a whisper, it will be shouted from the rooftops by noon the next day.
I hope you weren’t rude to the major, dear. Your father is in a delicate place coming up on November’s election, trying to keep the town agitators mollified and still maintain good relationships with the army and Farm Help Coordinating Committee. Your cooperation in this would certainly be appreciated. I think it would comfort people a great deal to have someone they know translating at the camp. And your father and I would be delighted to have you back home.
Of course the decision is yours to make. After the dance-hall incident, heaven knows I’ve given up trying to force your hand on anything. But it’s something to consider.
At the very least, you’d get some decent food here. Dear old Cornelia Knutson is quite handy with stretching ration coupons, and I’ve been borrowing some recipes from her to get by until the farmers market opens. I’m making potato soup now, and your mouth would water just to smell it. Rice and vegetables seven days a week—how can you stand it? Remember, if you’re undernourished, you’ll be susceptible to pneumonia, especially in this cold. There’s nothing worse than being sick away from home, so please do take care of yourself.
Much love,
Mother
From Dr. Smythe to Johanna
February 7, 1944
Dear Miss Berglund,
It has come to my attention that the anonymous administrator of the trust from which your scholarship is drawn has decided that, for future semesters, the funds will be granted to a student using his or her language degree for patriotic purposes—diplomacy, foreign-aid efforts, government service, etc.
If you would like to reapply for the scholarship, you may do so. An essay will be required to demonstrate fulfilment of this new requirement.
Before you storm to my office to accuse me of interfering, I assure you I have done no such thing, although I agree that the timing is rather suspicious. Even though I do not know the donor’s identity, I suspect Major Davies considers him (and half the city) an “old friend.” Need I say more?
I have heard from Fort Snelling about your difficulties with accepting the offered position at the new POW camp. Should you change your mind, I am willing to administer your spring examinations early. Judging by your consistently flawless assignments and your frequent glazed looks in my class, I think you’ll be more than ready. And I hope it’s not too indiscreet to point out that the generous proposed salary will go considerably further than your wages from your current part-time employment at the campus library.
You have great potential, Miss Berglund. I’d caution you not to waste it out of stubbornness and to direct your considerable talents toward a more realistic goal.
Dr. Sheridan Smythe
Chair of the Modern
Languages Department,
University of Minnesota
From Johanna to Major Davies
February 9, 1944
Dear Major Davies,
No compliments this time. If you feel comfortable asking my scholarship donor to withdraw funds for my schooling, then I don’t need to keep to rules of etiquette anymore. I’ve always thought of etiquette as institutionalized insincerity anyway. Much better to say things straight out.
I find myself in the unenviable position of being blackmailed into serving my country. You army gentlemen are all about conscription, aren’t you? It doesn’t seem like I have any alternative other than to take a leave of absence from my studies and come to your POW camp.
I hope that’s left you feeling guilty enough to make you more amenable to the compromise I would like to propose:
If I come back to Ironside Lake to serve as your translator, censor, girl-of-all-work, etc., I want you to agree to reevaluate the position on August 1 of this year. If morale in the camp is high and relations between the town and the camp are running smoothly, as I’m sure they will be, then having me around won’t be necessary, will it?
I’m offering to surrender six months of my life to serve my country in a role no one else wants. I hope you’ll agree that this is a reasonable compromise.
Make no mistake: I am qualified, and I will do my work with excellence. There’s no need to worry on that front.
I hope you will consider these terms and respond as soon as possible.
Johanna Berglund
From Major Davies to Johanna Berglund
February 12, 1944
Dear Miss Berglund,
I can’t tell you how delighted I was to receive your response in today’s mail! Chatted with Smythe this morning as well, and he said he’s happy to have you going too. Very accommodating fellow. I thought he’d slap my knuckles for taking away his star pupil, but he seemed relieved that we’d found someone for the position. He also advised me that you have a slightly abrupt manner, so I interpreted your letter in that light.
My wife, Evelyn, will appreciate having another woman about the camp in addition to my secretary and some of the soldiers’ wives. She’s been distressed all month at the thought of leaving her friends in Manhattan, even though I assured her that we’ll certainly be home for Christmas, as the camp will close for the season in November.
To that point, your recommendation of reevaluating your employment come the end of summer seems reasonable to me. Just save this letter and remind me of it in a few months, and we’ll see what’s what. With any luck, all will be calm as a graveyard, and off you’ll go to your studies again!
I will say, though, that I had nothing to do with taking your scholarship away from you! Perhaps you might hold back on your accusations and simply consider if Providence has guided your path to the very place where you belong.
Further instructions regarding transportation, arrival, etc., will follow from my secretary, Miss Harrigan. Again, we look forward to your assistance with this essential wartime effort! America is grateful for you!
With Great Respect,
Major J. E. Davies
Telegram from Johanna to her parents on February 16, 1944
COMING HOME THIS MON TO BEGIN TRANSLATION JOB. ARMY TO PICK ME UP FROM DULUTH STATION. WILL ARRIVE AROUND NOON. PLEASE AIR OUT BEDSPREAD.
From Peter to Johanna, left with her and found while on the train to Duluth