Shadows on the Sea Page 13

  “You see, I don’t understand a lot of things—like this war and people killing each other. I’m so scared that Mom may have been in that boat that went down this morning. I’m scared it may be my fault that the U-boat bombed those ships ’cause I didn’t tell anyone about the pigeon and its message. I thought I was doing the right thing. But now, if anything happens to Mom, it’ll be all my fault. I never got to say I was sorry for being so mean. Please, please take care of her. Please don’t let her die. Please.”

  Jill wasn’t sure how long she had been on the widow’s walk, when Nana pushed the trapdoor open and poked her head up. Sarge leaped out onto the deck ahead of her.

  “I’ve got good news! Quarry rang to tell us that the ship that was torpedoed was not the Caribou.” As Nana started back down she beckoned to Jill with her finger. “Come on down, Jill. Let’s have a cup of tea.”

  Jill felt like dancing around the roof, but she remembered the victims of the torpedoes—and Paulie Binette and Mr. Wilmar—and all the families that were mourning today, and she restrained herself. She scooped Sarge into her arms and ruffled his fur. “Hear that, Sarge? Mom’s okay! She’ll be coming back any day now.” She looked up at the sky, where bits of blue were beginning to break through the clouds. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Later in the afternoon, the telephone rang. Jill ran to answer it.

  “Hello, honeybunch!”

  “Daddy! Where are you?”

  “In New York. I’m singing tonight on Manhattan Merry-Go-Round, remember?”

  “Daddy, all kinds of scary things have happened up here.”

  “I talked with Nana late last night and she told me all about it. Oh, Jill, honey, I’m so grateful you’re okay. I never dreamed that you’d be in danger in Winter Haven, so far away from the war.”

  “The war’s not far away, Daddy. Another ship was torpedoed this morning,” Jill said, “but it wasn’t the Caribou.”

  “Mom called me last night.”

  “She did? How did she know where you were?”

  Dad chuckled. “Oh, Mom has my schedule memorized! She knew I’d be in New York for the Merry-Go-Round tonight.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Waiting for passage on the next ship. It won’t be much longer, Jill. Try not to worry, honey.”

  “I won’t worry anymore once we’re all together again. I just wish Mom would get back safely and I wish you’d come up here to Maine too. I wish …”

  “We’ll wish together, okay? Watch for that bright star—you know the one. Then wish with all your might. I’ll be wishing too.”

  “I will, Daddy.”

  “And listen to the Merry-Go-Round tonight. I’ll sing a song especially for you.”

  That night Jill, Quarry, Nana, and Tante Ida gathered around the radio as the theme song urging them to jump on the “Manhattan Merry-Go-Round” burst over the airwaves.

  The first song, “I Hear a Rhapsody,” was sung by Drew Winters. Jill’s eyes filled with tears when she heard her father’s beautiful voice.

  Dinah Shore sang “Blueberry Hill” and another wartime favorite, “Time Was.” Then Jill’s dad sang again—“There’ll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover.”

  “Ach! How I love those words,” Tante Ida whispered. “There’ll be love and laughter and peace ever after, tomorrow, vhen the vorld is free.”

  There were other popular songs from Broadway shows, and at the close of the program Jill’s father introduced the final song, “When You Wish upon a Star.”

  “This song is dedicated to my beautiful and brave daughter, Jill. May all your wishes come true, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” Jill whispered.

  Tweed

  Things were hectic around Winter Haven for the next several days. Practically everyone had their own ideas as to where Adrie Dekker and Wendy were and how they got away. “I had a feeling somethin’ was goin’ on in that Tearoom Inn,” people were saying. “Someone in Winter Haven must have helped those German agents!” No one was beyond suspicion. As Quarry said, “Gossip ain’t never been so good!”

  On Thursday morning a khaki army truck pulled into Clayton Bishop’s yard and Jill went over to see what was happening. Two soldiers were putting the carrier pigeons into baskets.

  “What are you doing with the birds?” she asked them.

  “They’ve been drafted by the army,” one of the men told her with a grin. “These here birds are right valuable pigeons.”

  “Now they’ll be working for us, instead of the Krauts,” the other man added. “They’ll carry messages across enemy lines.” He tucked a fluttering bird into a basket. “They always fly home—’cause that’s where their mate is.”

  Jill recognized the brown-and-white pigeon that she had rescued. “Good-bye, little sonnabend,” she whispered.

  On the way back to her house, she was surprised to see Gloria Brandt riding up on her bicycle.

  “Hi, Jill,” Gloria called. “Wait for me!” She pulled up to Jill and stopped.

  “Hi, Gloria,” Jill said cautiously.

  “I just thought I’d come by to say …” Gloria looked down at the ground nervously and kicked at some dust with her sneaker. “Jill, I want you to know I’m sorry the Crystals were so mean to you the other day.”

  “I don’t really care, Gloria.” Jill started to walk away, then stopped. “Well, actually, I guess I do care. Nobody wants to be treated like that. But the person you were the meanest to was Wendy.”

  Gloria looked straight into Jill’s eyes. “Do you know what they’re saying now? They’re saying that they were right all along—that Wendy proved she wasn’t good enough to be a Crystal—that she’s probably a Nazi!”

  “I suppose they feel they did the right thing by blackballing her.”

  “Yes, they do. But I don’t. I don’t feel Wendy deserved to be treated that way.”

  “Then why do you stay on as a Crystal?” Jill asked.

  “’Cause I want them to like me.”

  Jill nodded. “It’s real important that they like you, huh? Even if they’re mean?”

  “Maybe someday I’ll quit the group.”

  “Well, good luck,” Jill said, walking away.

  “When I do, I’ll come see you,” Gloria called after her. “Okay?”

  “Sure,” Jill answered, “if someday ever comes!”

  Back at Nana’s house, Jill sat on the back steps and thought about Wendy and the plans they had made for the summer. Now Wendy and her mother were running for their lives—probably to some foreign country. Would Wendy be scared? Maybe not. Maybe Wendy thinks she’s a real spy and enjoying all the excitement. She’s probably telling some whopping stories now.

  “Jill!” Nana called as she came back from the letter box. “This is for you.”

  Jill laughed when she saw the scribbling on the envelope: SWAK! VIA TRAIN MAIL! TOP SECRET!

  A letter from Patty! Jill ripped it open eagerly.

  Dear Jill:

  SURPRISE! Your grandmother invited me to visit you in Maine! It’ll be SO dreamy. Mom says I can come! I’ll arrive in Bangor on Sunday at 3 PM! Can’t wait! Watch out, Winter Haven! Patty and Jill are together again!

  XXXXX Patty

  “Nana! Patty’s coming! You didn’t tell me you invited Patty to visit.”

  “I wanted to be sure she’d get permission first. I didn’t want to disappoint you if she couldn’t come.”

  Jill hugged her grandmother. “You make me so happy! Patty and Quarry and I will have loads of fun.” She giggled. “We’ll get Patty to look for the fillieloo!”

  “Well, now you know why I love secret surprises.” Nana put her finger to her lip. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but someone else will be coming up on the same train.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell.”

  “Daddy?”

  Nana just smiled.

  Later that day, Jill went up to the widow’s walk. The sparkling w
aters were dotted with brightly colored buoys, marking lobster traps. Jill had come to love this beautiful place, especially now that all the dark secrets had been uncovered. Even the fearful night she was trapped on the roof was just a fading memory. She couldn’t wait to share it all with Patty. She and Daddy would be here in two more days!

  Jill aimed her binoculars at the Tearoom Inn. It was closed now, the windows shuttered. She looked out at the sea. Was U-1230 still hiding somewhere out there? Or had it gone back to Europe, carrying Wendy and Adrie with it? She had read reports of German agents who had been transported to Spain by submarine.

  A car approached. Jill focused her glasses at a dusty taxi that was rumbling up the road. It turned into Nana’s driveway and stopped. The driver opened the trunk and pulled out a suitcase. Jill recognized the baggage.

  “Mom!” she screamed.

  The back door of the taxi opened and her mother climbed out, looking around to see where the voice was coming from.

  “I’m up here on the widow’s walk!”

  Mom’s face lit up with a smile as she saw Jill waving. “Jill!”

  Jill slid down the steep steps, then flew down the stairs to the first floor, almost tripping over Sarge. The cat howled and ran under the table, his tail bushing out in excitement. Jill raced through the kitchen and onto the back porch, slamming the door behind her. She leaped off the back steps, dashed down the driveway, and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

  “Mom!” Jill buried her face in her mother’s soft sweater—and the tangy, fresh scent of Tweed.

  I’m home, Jill,” Mom whispered. “I’m home.”

  Afterword

  The plot and characters in Shadows on the Sea are fictional. However, the mystery is based on recollections from my childhood as well as events that occurred in the real town of Winter Harbor, Maine, during World War II.

  I chose 1942 as the year for Jill’s adventure because it was the year that a ferry called the Caribou was torpedoed. The infiltration of German Intelligence agents into Maine actually occurred in November of 1944. In order to compact the story time-wise, I decided to have the entire plot take place in the summer of 1942.

  During this period, the United States and Canada took great care to prevent enemy ships from entering the harbors along the Atlantic Coast. Metal nets were set up in the larger ports, like Portland, Maine. Lights along the coast were dimmed or extinguished; thick draperies covered windows at night; the top halves of automobile headlights were painted black in order to hide coastal cities and towns at night from enemy planes and ships—just as in my story During that time, children who lived along the Atlantic Seaboard often sat on the rocky shores and watched for periscopes and shadows on the sea.

  Despite extreme precautions, enemy ships did infiltrate bays and harbors. Some of these incidents were part of a German plan known as Operation Elster. In English this means “Operation Magpie.” The German submarine U-1229, which was first commissioned to sneak agents into Maine, was sunk in the Atlantic Ocean by the U.S. Navy Its mission was then transferred to U-1230. This submarine slipped into the quiet waters near Hancock Point in Winter Harbor in November of 1944 and dropped off two spies. It is suspected that the spies who landed in Winter Harbor had assistance from the mainland, but the archives do not indicate who these persons might have been. The two agents were later apprehended.

  German officers who were on U-1230 have since spoken of fishermen’s anchors dragging along the hull of their submarine, unaware of its presence. Amazingly, U-1230 also eluded a U.S. Navy surface search on the way out of the restricted waters. During the day, U-1230 lay submerged inside the waters of Winter Harbor, only a short distance from the U.S. Navy Radio and Direction Finding Station located on Big Moose Island at the tip of the Schoodic Peninsula.

  Did the U-boat officers know this and therefore still its radio communications while close to the Maine shore? I wondered about this, and thought it would be plausible for submarines to use carrier pigeons for the Germans to communicate with the agents or German sympathizers on shore. This is why I created the pigeon Sonnabend in my story I was pleased to recently find records that substantiate this theory.

  Carrier pigeons—also called homing pigeons—have been used as message carriers for thousands of years. They were a vital part of the intelligence during World Wars I and II, when they made their way through gunfire, bombings, and storms to bring critical information through enemy lines. Some carried miniature cameras. One pigeon named Scotch Lass accompanied a secret agent into the Netherlands. This bird, though badly wounded, flew back to England with thirty-eight microphotos of German positions and documents. Other pigeons were parachuted into Europe, then carried important information hundreds of miles back to London!

  These valiant winged messengers are credited with saving many lives. They were also targets themselves and many were killed or became missing in action. Others, despite injuries, courageously flew hundreds of miles to fulfill their missions. One of the most famous carrier pigeons was GI Joe, who was awarded the Dickin Medal for gallantry by the Lord Mayor of London. Pigeons received more awards for valor than any other animal! Military pigeons held the rank of captain and were decorated and buried with military honors. Historical records indicate that three thousand soldiers and one hundred and fifty officers were assigned to the U.S. Army Pigeon Service to care for the fifty-five thousand trained pigeons.

  There really was a ferry named the Caribou that sailed between Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and Port aux Basques, Newfoundland. It was used during WWII to take military personnel to bases on Newfoundland. At three-thirty A.M. on the calm, dark morning of October 14, 1942, the Caribou was spotted by the prowling German submarine U-69. A single torpedo struck the Caribou amidships on its starboard side, and in less than five minutes the Caribou sank into the frigid waters. More than one hundred and thirty-five passengers and crew were killed. One hundred and one survivors clung to debris or huddled in lifeboats. Many of the passengers were members of the American, Canadian, and British armed forces. Today there is a new ferry named after the Caribou that takes passengers to and from Newfoundland along the same route. Aboard the ship one can see a model of the ill-fated earlier ferry and read the story of its brave crew.

  In 1942 I was a young child when my mother had to cross the Gulf of Saint Lawrence from North Sydney, Nova Scotia, to be with her dying brother in an outport in Newfoundland. She was a registered nurse and was given special permission to cross through the dangerous waters which swarmed with German U-boats. Although I was younger than Jill, I still recall the fear my dad and I had for Mom’s safety She crossed both ways on the Caribou, which was torpedoed shortly after she returned home. A picture of the Caribou and her crew hung in our den for many years.