Coming to Colorado: A Young Immigrantâ??s Journey to Become an American Flyer

CHAPTER 11. Ingrid’s Return

Ingrid’s Return CHAPTER 11 { 132 } INGRID’S RETURN Both Hedy and Leo worked long hours, Hedy more so than Leo, volunteering for overtime at the Lowry BX to bring home as much money as she possibly could. They arranged their lives to fit the goals Hedy set—first, a house, then a car. No more visits to the bar for Leo. Leo was not a man able to hold his liquor. One beer was enough to make him happy and willing to buy a round of drinks for everyone. That generosity quickly became a thing of the past. Instead, they joined the Edelweiss Club, to which many of the German and Austrian wives of American service men belonged. At the Edelweiss Club they could have a good time among friends, eat familiar foods, and dance to music that brought back memories of yesteryear. Hedy was an excellent dancer. Leo never felt the rhythm of music in his bones, but he didn’t mind Hedy dancing with others, and watched patiently from their table, nursing the one beer Hedy allowed him to have for the evening, maybe two. Unfailingly Hedy and Leo made the required monthly child support payments for the boy Leo adopted. It was an expense they had to cope with until the boy turned eighteen. Outside of the money spent on essential needs and a few small pleasures, all other income went into a savings account for the new house. Laughter and levity was one of the casualties of Hedy’s unwavering focus on achieving her goals. There was a reason why Hedy was so adamant about getting a house of her own and making it her first priority among many. Our government quarters at 52 Jones Street reminded her too much of the German military barracks she and I once occupied—a time of suffering and personal degradation for her. The longer we lived in our Jones Street duplex, the more intense her desire became to get out of there, to get away from the borrowed furniture and reminders of her ugly past. On weekends, when Hedy wasn’t working, she asked friends to drive her and Leo around the area to look at houses—not used houses, with other people’s smells and ghosts, but new houses, to give her a clean, fresh start. The winter of 1947 in the Trauen barracks had brought Hedy close to her breaking point. We had little to eat and wear, no soap to keep clean, no heat to keep the cold out of our beds at night. Nearly everyone lost his or her job at Fassberg airfield, including Hedy. Losing her NAAFI job { 133 } INGRID’S RETURN meant she lost the hot lunch which was part of her pay and the scraps of food she was able to bring home for her children. The money she made had little value. The black market was king, and its principal currency was cigarettes and sex. That winter, Ingrid contracted rheumatic fever. Hedy took her to a former German military hospital, an assemblage of rotting barracks like the one we lived in. The team of military doctors and nurses who had remained behind still cared for the torn and ailing bodies of wounded soldiers and youngsters like Ingrid. Ingrid recuperated slowly. Then Hedy came down with hepatitis, her skin turning a brownish yellow. She walked the ten kilometers to the hospital where Ingrid was being cared for and remained there for treatment. I got very lonely for my mother. One day I set off to see her. Hedy was overjoyed at my unexpected visit. The nurses were kind and shared with me the little food they had. That afternoon Hedy asked me if I wanted to stay the night. Although the hospital was filled to capacity, after some whispers among Hedy and the nurses, a bed was found. “The room doesn’t have any lights,” Hedy informed me, “but you don’t really need a light. The nurses will make up the bed and wake you at first light in the morning.” I remember being shaken awake by a nurse very early the next morning . “It’s time for breakfast,” the nurse announced cheerfully. “Go down the hall and wash up. Here is a towel and a face cloth. When you finish, please join your mother in her room.” I did as I was told. Many months later...