Almost a Great Escape Read online

  “Yes, but he can go to university when the war is over.”

  “The war! Are people supposed to give up their lives just because there’s a war on?”

  Alice sinks deeper into the armchair, wondering how long she can avoid an argument.

  “Sit up straight,” Big Marjorie tells her. “I suppose you’re slouching like that because you’re worried about your pen pal, that Norwegian pilot. What’s his name?”

  “Jens, Mother. Jens Müller. You met him at the Inn. You had dinner with him three times.”

  “Oh, yes. Now I remember. One of Officer Malm’s men. Polite enough. But I expect they’ll both be killed soon. I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long.”

  “Please don’t say that, Mother. It’s terrible.”

  “It’s the truth, that’s all. You have to be realistic about these things. I’ve heard England is overrun with foreigners who have lost their own countries. I imagine there are thousands of those people lolling about in London and getting in everybody’s way. They should do the right thing and be the first to get shot up by the Germans. I’m sure that’s what will happen to those Norwegians.”

  “Mother!”

  “Oh, I know you and thousands of other silly girls are writing aching heart letters to keep up their spirits. That’s very noble of you, Alice, doing your part for the war effort. Goodness knows I’m doing mine — inviting all those dreadful farm boys in uniform to our dinner parties. But you mustn’t think there’s anything more to it than that. When the war’s over, everything will go back to the way it was before. Everybody will be back in their right place. You’ll see.”

  Alice shakes her head and is about to reply when Big Marjorie interrupts. “Oh, don’t look so gloomy. You’re going to have a wonderful life. Much better than mine with all my sorrows. You have everything I never had. You have a mother who loves you. And when the war is over, everything will work out for you just as I have planned. And I will have a home at the top of Westmount Boulevard.”

  Alice tries to smile.

  “That’s better,” Big Marjorie says. “Now that you’re smiling I have a surprise for you. You received two letters this morning. One from that Norwegian and one from the Cochonds. They want you to ride their horses in our show at the Alpine Inn this summer. Won’t that be grand? And Joan will be riding our horses. I wonder who will get the most ribbons — you or her? Probably Joan. Little Marjorie and her Wilfred have promised to help me with the guests. Isn’t this turning out splendidly? Don’t I take the best care of my girls.”

  Big Marjorie slides two envelopes out from under her blanket. “Here’s your letters, my dear. And please return my tray to the kitchen.”

  Alice sits in the kitchen. She turns over the envelope from Jens and inspects the sealed flap. Big Marjorie would open it if she could. How many letters has she intercepted? Jens has written saying she must not have received all his letters.

  Yes, he is still wearing her school pin in the liner of his flying helmet. And here’s a photo of him with her pin painted on his fighter plane. Beside it he has stencilled ODIN. The Norse god of warfare. He flies with her photo in his jacket.

  Flying With Alice. Jens piloted this Hawker Hurricane Mk II on missions from England with Alice’s school crest on the fuselage, her pin in his helmet, and her photo in his jacket. Photo courtesy of the author.

  But he never says anything about his missions. Are they dangerous? Are many pilots missing? Presumed dead.

  Everything is censored, he writes. Everything but my love for you.

  But at 588 Lansdowne Avenue, Westmount, Quebec, even love is censored.

  LETTERS

  LOVE AND MORE

  It is a time of great uncertainty, made worse for you and Jens by the slow and irregular delivery of mail by transatlantic ship. The Nazis have captured France. It should be a time of despair, but he writes today with an optimism that seems misplaced. “I may be with you sooner than I thought.” Amazing, isn’t it, that his plans are all on one goal, to return to you.

  June 6, 1941

  Darling!

  It seems years and years ago since I was with you the last time. Though when looking at the present, time seems to fly and I may be with you sooner than I thought. I’ve been missing you so much Alice, and the day I may hug you again I’ll be the happiest and most grateful of all. I love you Alice, as I’ve never loved before and never will. Your influence has wakened sleeping qualities within me it seems, qualities which I have neglected to develop in the most crucial way. But I know I’ll be able to bring them up to standard level. And so I look at the future with much optimism. You bet your sweet life I’ll reach our dreams and make them come true.

  . . . . Jens.

  P.S. Do you remember the last hours we spent together in 588, you were teasing me and assuring me your words would haunt me? Well, they do. I’ll love you forever darling, so very much!

  “Loving You.” The Jens Album contained 99 letters and telegrams. Alice never knew how many her mother intercepted. Photo courtesy of the author.

  September 9, 1941

  Dearest,

  For over one month I hadn’t heard a word from you and I started wondering what was happening. Then suddenly come eight letters one day. It made me feel quite a new person. The way you write Alice brings me so close to you and Canada, although it sometimes takes me awhile to find out what you have written. I find it takes quite a lot of practice, of which I hadn’t had nearly as much as I had in Toronto, where I, in the end, could read your letters quite fluently. But I’ll stop teasing you darling, because I love everything with you, even your handwriting, — And then I haven’t such a wonderful writing myself. I know I’ve not at all written enough to you dearest, and the only excuse I have is that I haven’t felt like writing anybody, not even you.

  I must congratulate you with passing your exam, although it’s rather late to do that now, but I only today received your letters telling of it. And besides with your brains it would hardly be a difficult task.

  . . . As always, I’ll be dreaming and thinking of you Alice.

  Your Jens

  October 8, 1941

  Darling,

  Some people think it not wise to tell the person one is in love with, too clearly of this love. However, I find it most wonderful to be able, without any need of hesitation, to tell you unreservedly of my love for you Alice; that I love you with all my heart, and that you can always feel sure darling, that nothing and nobody shall ever be able to change my love for you, which has, if possible, grown stronger and more sincere during the time we have been apart.

  I shall close for this time. I only want to tell you once more that I love you so much Alice. So very much.

  Your Jens

  The Social Scene: Another of your clippings, now in Alice’s Suitcase. This one features you as the clever young rider of Ste. Adele and among the prominent entrants in the coming Military Show at St. Jerome Army camp. I see you’ve already won ribbons in other shows. Well done. This will be a nice reminder for me that you always looked good on a horse.

  October 25, 1941

  Darling,

  Today is quite an occasion. I think I remember correctly when saying that it is your birthday today. I wonder if you remember what you once said you wanted me to give you today?

  This makes me think, however, of what I shall do for a living when this war is over. To pilot a plane is about all I have learned thoroughly, and what use have I of that with all the pilots let loose after the war? Never the less, I do my best to absorb some navigation & such, which a commercial pilot, with any self-respect, ought to know.

  My highest ambition is to be able to marry you darling, and make you happy.

  I hope your feelings for me will still be the same after some years, and you will still be willing to take the chance of marrying me.

  I love you as always,

  Jens

  December 11, 1941

  Dearest,

  I received your so swee
t letter today & as usual it made me most happy. Later today your book of poems also arrived. Thanks ever so much darling, for both. I have only up to this moment had time to read the one of the poems you like; & the last verse, if you recall is, in effect what I promised myself the moment we parted. — Ottar came in this evening & of course started teasing me when he saw the book. We see quite a lot of each other these days. — Ottar sat reading your book when he told me of how well you write Alice.

  Don’t you think you could possibly favour me too with the honour of reading some of what you have written. Honestly dear, why not send me some of your writings?? I asked you once to show them to me but you seemed so unwilling that I did not dare to ask once more. If I had known then that Ottar had been granted the permission, you should not have got away with it so easily. — So please Alice?!

  So remember this, my one and only. I love you and always shall.

  Your Jens

  The Social Scene: I don’t like the snobby tone of this clipping, but I’m keeping it in Alice’s Suitcase. I think it is important for me to see you and your friends finding new ways to be silly and trivial and popular during the war. There you are with five other marriage prospects at a raffle for a silver fox cape donated by Holt Renfrew with proceeds going to the Queen’s Canadian Fund. I despair to think this was the best you could do with your talents.

  AN ALICE AND JENS STORY

  COMPLICATIONS AND COINCIDENCES

  I have told nobody but Judy about my visits here. She needs to understand my galloping around in lives that took place long before I was born. I tell her My Goodbye Mother memories of 13 years have broken down the corral rails and there are horses running loose everywhere. I am a group of one gathering a scattered herd. And I’m not asking for help.

  What’s new? she answers.

  I have brought a few letters to read with you, but first I’m going to spread out a blanket. I will be here a few hours and I may as well be comfortable. The low sun drips purple over the cloudless Rockies. I expected to see more grave visitors on a cheerful day like this. Perhaps they’ll drive out after supper. By the way, the grounds crew mowed the grass this morning. Everything is neat and tidy. I suppose they drive right over top of you.

  I’ll start with Pilot Officer Ottar Malm’s letter. You have to admire the Norwegian education system that taught English to these airmen. They write well.

  May 27, 1942

  Dear Alice,

  Thank you very much for your letter. I can assure you that I like to hear from you very much and it is very nice of you to write and tell me all the news about the family and yourself. It sure seems a long time since we saw each other; but one day the whole thing will be over and we shall again have some fun together.

  We are kept quite busy these days in Fighter Command and I have had several trips over the channel which is exciting every time.

  Otherwise life goes on as usual over here. I have been here (London) 10 months now and I am getting used to the blackout and all other things that goes together with a country at war. I am looking forward very much to the time when lights again will shine in all the cities and villages of Europe and that is going to be some day!!

  I find it difficult to write letters these days, everything is censored and all the things that happen around can not be known till after the war! That is of course understandable and I guess there is nothing one can do about that.

  All the best to you Alice and please write again.

  Love Ottar

  Now here’s one from Jens glued beside the picture of him with your school crest painted on his fighter named Odin. He always flies with your school pin in his helmet and your picture in his flight jacket.

  June 6, 1942

  Dearest,

  The rate at which your letter parcels keep coming in is over­whelming. Some days ago I got “Life” “Reader’s Digest,” then the “Navigation Notebook” came the same day as two of your letters. The result is that I feel very much on top of the world. More so than I have for a long time.

  I miss you very much Alice, therefore I enjoy so to hear from you; you get so near then, I can almost hear you telling me of all the things you write about.

  I am sorry to hear that you have been ill again, Alice, I think your suggestion of going to school this summer to learn French or dramatics, is not a very good one. Why not take it easy with the studying for a while, rather climb Mount Baldy a couple of times a day?

  Think of all the things we are going to do together when I get over to you again for good.

  I love you Alice

  Jens

  You don’t have time to answer this letter right away because you’re studying for your Matrics. Bert and Big Marjorie are concerned about how hard you are pushing yourself. They don’t understand that McGill is your chance to have a life of your own, away from Big Marjorie’s debutante parties, coming out parties, and dinner parties. At McGill, things will be different. You’ll still have to live at home, but . . . things will be different. You’ll have your independence. Isn’t that what you wanted?

  This letter from your father expresses his concern for you in such a cheerful way that I think it must have been hard for you to keep your engagement from him.

  Undated

  To my very sweet little “Blondie,”

  Your teacher Miss Nichol called Mother saying that she thought you were worrying too much about your Matric or “something” and that it was affecting your studies. Now my dear don’t be silly and ruin your health. If you do not pass the world will still go on and does not matter much. Please talk to me about it because your health is more important to us than hundreds of Matrics. If you are worrying about anything else let your Dad know and we will fix it up all swell.

  Love,

  Dad

  Could that “something” be Jens?

  On June 19 you finished your Matrics and, instead of writing Jens, you sent him a telegram. Here it is: the rectangle of date-stamped, blue and red Marconi Telegram paper that the messenger delivered to Jens’s 331 Squadron Barrack.

  PLT JENS MULLER RNAF LONDON

  DEAREST HAVE JUST FINISHED MY EXAMS

  LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVER

  WILL WRITE SOON YOU TOO

  ALICE TYLER

  I found this telegram in your Jens Album, which didn’t make sense. If you sent it to England, why was it returned to you? It took me a long time to figure that out. We’ll get to the unravelling soon.

  Were you disappointed when Jens didn’t reply to your “Love you more than ever”?

  Twelve days later you wrote Jens again.

  June 30, 1942

  Dearest,

  Mother and John and I came over to the Inn for dinner this evening and at this point Mother is chatting with some friends so I decided to write you while I was waiting but I think we shall be leaving soon and I will finish this letter when I go home.

  Well Mother and I have been sitting for two hours discussing past, future, and present and now Marjorie and she are playing cards. John keeps asking “quiz” questions and so I shall have to stop writing for awhile once more.

  . . . Do remember me to Ottar and tell him I will write soon. As always I love you with all my heart and it doesn’t matter when you come back darling because I shall still love you just as much as ever one hundred years from now — only the sooner you come back the happier I will be.

  And so for now I remain

  Yours as ever,

  Alice

  You pasted this returned to you letter in The Jens Album beside the returned telegram of June 19. Why didn’t Jens keep them?

  The next letter you pasted in The Jens Album came from Ottar Malm, dated June 20, 1942. Jens left for England a year ago.

  AN ALICE STORY

  “I AM VERY MUCH AFRAID”

  588 Lansdowne Avenue, Westmount, Quebec

  A letter today? Maybe, you think as you open the front door. Jens can be confusing. Sometimes you get two letters in a week. Other times, a le
tter every two weeks. You’d think he would have answered your telegram about finishing your Matrics. You wish you understood better what he was doing over there. Where is he flying that he can’t tell you about? He shares his love not his dangers. Poker Face.

  On the table is a letter from Ottar Malm. His handwriting is so clear. Definite. Purposeful. Most likely another of his everything is censored but don’t worry life is wonderful letters with gallant references to adventures and signed With Love To Your Family, Ottar.

  The house is quiet. You open Ottar’s letter at the kitchen table.

  June 20, 1942

  My dear Alice,

  Most of the times when I sit down to write letters to friends of mine I do it with pleasure. But this time it is different Alice. Our good friend Jens is missing from operations yesterday and I am very much afraid that we shall never see him again. We became involved in a dog fight somewhere in England and Jens failed to return.

  I find it difficult to write and tell you this Alice, because I don’t quite understand it myself, in fact none of us in the squadron from aircraft hands and up to the top man can believe that it is really so.

  War is a cruel game Alice and it has taken many fine young men’s lives. I have lost many good friends; in Norway, in Canada and here in England. The finest of them all was Jens, and I know that all his friends, and he only had friends, are behind me when I say that in him Norway lost one of its best and promising young men.

  One gets to know the boys in a squadron because they are always together, in the air and on the ground; they go through the happy moments as well as the tough spots together; and the friendship that emerges from that sort of a life is something that is difficult to put on paper, one must be a member of the squadron to feel it and understand it. And all of us in our squadron who knew Jens as we did, know that he was the noblest and finest pilot and friend we could have.

  And you lost something Alice! Jens was in love with you; you know it and so do I. You had once given him your School-pin. He always wore that, and on his aircraft he had copied and painted that same pin. He very often talked to me of you because I knew you so well. He had plans for the future after the war and the first was to go back to Canada and see you. He was a hard-working young man; he never had an idle moment, but was always reading and studying when off duty. And he would have succeeded in whatever field he would have chosen after the war.