5.
Letters From Austria
As autumn came and winter closed in, the nurses forgot about Enzo. Halette became just another hardworking soul within the clinic, yet she spent little time with them, preferring to get home as fast as she could, even as nights became cold, and the rain came in. The chilly weather brought more patients, the days seemingly longer now that she barely saw the sun.
She did, however, see more of her father. The clinic had slowly been transitioning from the great coal burners on the lower levels that serviced the entire building to electricity, yet it was only now that its true potential was being put to the test. The building was almost two hundred years old, the rooms cold during winter, but her father had been working diligently to insert electric heating in every room. It came at great expense, but Enzo’s father believed that electricity would be the driving force in propelling his clinic into the future.
As months passed, Halette noted that her father and Enzo’s were spending more time with each other, either seen in closed off rooms, deep in discussion, or disappearing into the bowels of the clinic where Halette had never been. She had tried to sneak in on several occasions, but each time she found the doors to the lowest levels were locked.
“Where does it lead?” she asked Aubert one day, but the clinic’s head nurse gently shoved Halette up the staircase leading back to the main hall.
“A door is locked for a reason,” Aubert had said. “You’ve enough to worry about without becoming embroiled in the clinic’s affairs.”
The comment had stayed with Halette her entire bike ride home, realising that it was Jacques Blanchet, Enzo’s father, whom she’d seen driving away from the house that day in his black car. Wondering again about the reason for his visit, she soon arrived back home. Her mother was inside, the house warm, the fire lit. Halette changed from her uniform, and when she returned to the kitchen, her father walked in through the outside door.
“It’s not often I see you both at once,” her mother said, welcoming him home with a kiss. “I’m beginning to think of you as guests while I live here alone.”
Her father forced a smile.
“I’m sorry. You run a less complicated house.”
“But one that still needs work,” her mother replied. “There’s a leak in the barn, and I think something’s blocking the coal burner.”
To Halette’s surprise, her father barely registered the comment. Halette looked warily at her mother, for she had noticed it too.
“And there are rats burrowing into the cellar,” her mother continued. “I caught them sniffing around your wine.”
Yvette took a moment when Henri didn’t react.
“One of them wore an orange hat.”
There was nothing from her father. Halette’s mother threw her hands up in despair and went into the kitchen, but Halette shifted close, putting her arms around her father’s weary shoulders.
“In the clinic,” she said quietly. “That door to the lower levels. What do you and Enzo’s father do down there?”
Her father shifted beneath her, and at once Halette knew it was this that was bothering him.
“Aubert said you’d been enquiring,” her father said. “She was right. You have enough to do without worrying about what goes on beneath the clinic. There are other patients there, that’s all. Ones beyond your skill to heal.”
“Other patients? But I thought –.”
“I’ll hear no more of it,” her father interrupted. The sharpness of his voice shocked Halette, and it brought her mother back from the kitchen.
“Henri?”
Her mother shot him a look. Concern, and reprimand. In apology, Henri turned to Halette and took her hand.
“I have something for you,” he said, humility filling his voice. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want it, but it’s not my choice, I guess.”
He reached into his jacket, which was folded over the chair beside him, pulled an envelope from the pocket and slid it across the table. The stamp read: Vienna. Halette could barely contain her surprise.
“Let’s have dinner before you read it,” her father said. “I want to hear how you’re enjoying life at the clinic.”
Halette’s mother slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Don’t be mean,” she playfully chastised, then took the letter and gave it to Halette. “Go on. You have half an hour, or we eat without you.”
Excited to hear what adventures Enzo was having, Halette hurried upstairs to her room. She lit the small oil lamp beside her bed and closed the door. She’d never received a letter before, not just for her. Brushing her fingers over the rough envelope, she saw how delicate the stamp was, the slightly smudged ink revealing it was posted two weeks ago. She carefully prised open the seal and pulled out a single piece of paper.
My dear Halette,
I am writing from a small café opposite Österreichische National bibliothek, Austria’s National Library. It’s in the old part of the city, not far from the University. You would like it there, and I often visit when I think of you.
I wish I had more time when I saw you last. It was wrong of me to say goodbye like that, without warning, and at work. You must forgive me, sometimes my mind is not where it should be.
You were right about falling in love. Not with a girl. That, I hope, still lies open for you and me. I have fallen in love with Vienna, and perhaps the German way. There is structure and order; things I understand. I am still learning to speak German, but I now find it quite easy, and have made many new friends. Some are officers in the army, training to be medical staff like me. Their focus. Their determination. I confess, I find it admirable. Not once have they looked at me as a lesser man. They are intrigued by my studies. In fact, I have begun my own specialist research. I will not bore you of that here but let me say this. I feel I have purpose, and strangely, I owe it to German hard work and dedication. It’s far more efficient than in France.
I have not just been focused on studies. You’ll be surprised to know I attended Oktoberfest in Munich not long after I arrived. I was invited by Wilhelm, one of the German medics. It was enjoyable, even though I much prefer wine, but we have remained good friends since that weekend.
Winter will soon come. We have a trip planned over Christmas. Skiing in Innsbruck, followed by New Year’s Eve by the lake in Hallstatt. Obviously, it will be difficult for me to ski, but I’d like to try.
Yes. Even I am open to an adventure.
I look forward to returning, to seeing you once again. I hope this letter finds you in good health, that the nurses at the clinic are treating you well, that Aubert has not been too tough on you, and that no matter what dreams of heroes you’ve been having, you spare the odd thought for me.
Yours, in kindness and in waiting,
Enzo Blanchet
7 November 1937
Halette read the letter three times over. Since he’d gone, she’d come to realise how much she’d missed him. She was proud that he was finding his true self. She’d heard stories of Innsbruck. Vast, steep mountains covered in snow as far as the eye could see. She laughed, wondering how Enzo would fare on skis, yet she yearned to be with him. Despite his disabilities and her desire for adventure, his life seemed more intrepid than anything she’d ever done.
Halette carefully folded the letter, placed it in her bedside drawer, then returned to the kitchen downstairs. Her parents were curious about what Enzo had to say, but Halette said only that he was enjoying his studies, for she wanted Enzo’s words to be kept just for her.
The next morning, however, she felt unable to contain the joy she felt in knowing Enzo’s desire to see her when he returned. She put the letter in her overcoat, determined to show Aubert, the one person she regarded as more than a colleague. The others she had yet to get to know, but she thought if she could convince Aubert that this was no idle fancy, that if the clinic’s head nurse could accept Enzo’s feelings toward her, then perhaps the others would fall in line. It was a hope dashed the moment Aubert began reading.
“He seems… sympathetic to Germany,” Aubert said, searching for the right word. “You want my advice? Wait until he returns. Get to know him again, then see where your heart lies. Distance changes people.” Aubert glanced at the letter once more. “I would want to know where his mind is at.”
“You think he’ll change his mind about me?”
Aubert folded the letter and gave it back to her.
“Just be mindful of who he is when he returns,” she said. “When we remember people who are not here, we idolise what we desire. Hope becomes all we see.”
Halette felt her heart sink, as though the whole world were against her. Aubert noticed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” Aubert said, the first real kindness to Halette she’d ever shown. “Reveal this letter to no one. Keep it for yourself and wait for Enzo’s return.”
Aubert gave her a gentle squeeze then left to tend her patients within the clinic. Fighting hard to rekindle the joy she’d felt that morning, Halette followed Aubert into the ward, but for the rest of the day, she found the small moments of satisfaction were not enough. Patients thanked her for her kindness, yet she rode home despondent, knowing in her heart she was destined for greater things, that her true moment of heroism was yet to come.
When winter struck, Halette put all thought of Enzo aside. The clinic became inundated, and she was so rushed off her feet she had little time for fanciful dreams. Even the other nurses abandoned their mockery of her desire for Enzo. They were all too exhausted to do anything but survive each day.
Halette received another letter not long after the New Year. Enzo was still enjoying Vienna, still good friends with Wilhelm and the other German Officers he’d met earlier that scholastic year.
There is hope among many here of Austria’s return to Germany, he had written. It causes some unrest but what I enjoy most about Vienna is all the German things the city has to offer. There are private discussions, but I try not to get involved. I am here for my studies, after all.
Halette did not fully understand what was happening, but Enzo seemed happy. His German had improved, and by Enzo’s accounts, his new colleagues seemed to be men of reputation and rank.
If I am to gain a firm standing in my profession, I feel I must have friends such as these, he continued. There is only so much I can learn at my father’s clinic in Baschel. Perhaps when I return, if we share the same desire, we could visit another city, perhaps even stay.
His words were a welcome surprise, for it proved that Aubert’s concerns were unfounded, that Enzo had not abandoned her. Halette clung to Enzo’s letters and the hope of seeing him again, for they gave her the warmth she needed until summer returned.
As winter’s wind began to thaw and the forests filled with leaves, Halette’s father resumed his passion for taking photos. He’d only managed a roll of film during winter’s short days, capturing the odd moment on the weekend of Halette and Yvette wrapped in warm cloaks, the desolate forests coated with thick mist. Yet, as the days grew longer and colour came back into the world, Halette saw his enthusiasm renew. The future looked bright once more. Summer was coming, and Halette began thinking of Enzo’s return.
It was early on Saturday March 12 when Halette arrived for work. It was a clear day. Normally, the village market would already be bustling as people from villages all around Baschel came to buy their weekly food, but this morning it seemed subdued. People talked in whispers, and Halette heard little cheer as she rode through. She ascended the rise leading over the river to the clinic’s main gate, locking her bike to the fence near the main courtyard entry overlooking Baschel. When she entered, she found the duty nurses huddled around a small radio tuned to a news report broadcast from Radio-Paris, the volume loud enough so everyone, even the patients, could hear.
“What’s going on?” Halette asked to anyone in general, but a nurse in front simply held up her hand for silence, forcing Halette to get as close to the radio as she could to listen to the newsreader’s report.
“…following Austrian Chancellor Kurt Von Schuschnigg’s resignation last night, he told his nation that the Austrian Military was not to resist the German forces. Schuschnigg signed off by saying, “I say goodbye with the heartfelt wish that God will protect Austria.” Austria’s referendum to determine its unification with Germany was to be held tomorrow, but Germany’s forces, having mobilised along Austria’s borders yesterday, crossed over first thing this morning. Already, there are reports of hundreds of arrests as Nazi forces began detaining any opposition to Hitler’s regime. It is unclear what President Wilhelm Miklas’ next move will be, but he seems unlikely to prevent Hitler from returning to his native land for the first time in twenty-four years.”
Halette’s breath caught in her chest.
“Has there been any word of fighting? Any word of Vienna?”
The nurse beside her just shook her head, and all Halette could think was that Enzo was now caught in the middle of a war.