Chapter 10 - The Red Tag

Uncle Cor sends a message through windmill telegraph to let his family know he is safe. The war rumors in Holland cause chaos and confusion. Joris is upset because the Germans are taking away dogs, including his dog Freya. He goes to church to pray for her but questions why God doesn't stop the Germans. Father Kovus explains that God wants people to have free will. Meanwhile, Dirk Jan and his friends come up with a plan to save Freya by swapping her with an older dog. At the dog collection, many people say goodbye to their pets, and Dirk Jan tries to avoid being noticed by Liendert, who is collaborating with the Germans. CHAPTER TEN THE RED TAG Uncle Cor had arranged to send word of his safe arrival by windmill telegraph, for windmills have always had their own language. In the old days, when Catholics were persecuted in Holland, a white rag tied to the wing of a windmill showed that a priest had come to say Mass. When a mill was at rest, its wings formed a St. Andrew's cross. The position least likely to attract lightning, travelling millwrights know that a mill needs repair when the cross is crooked. On a feast day, or when there is a birth or wedding in a family, the wings of the mill form an upright cross, leaning slightly to the right, the joy position. A leaning of the wings to the left indicates sorrow. Uncle Cor had told his sister to look in the direction of Leyden at three o'clock on Monday afternoon, and if the Jankintersveen holdmill stood at joy, all would be well with Charles and himself. That is exactly what happened. The Verhagen family breathed easily again, and it had been upsetting to see Uncle Cor and Charles abducted on Lienert's motorbike. The day after was Mad Tuesday. Dutch people will forever remember the crazy, improbable first Tuesday in September 1944, when rumors flew around that the war was over, and the Liberators were marching into Holland. Whence those rumors came, no one knew, but even the Germans believed them. They hastily packed and left, and land watchers and other traders disappeared from the streets. Housewives searched their trunks for flags and orange streamers, which they hung out of their windows. But it was a false alarm. The Germans returned, and the land watchers strutted about again, determined to enjoy their power while it lasted. In Saterwood, school had started. There was a conspicuous gap in Dirk Jan's class, where Ernest Pouat had sat. Glances strayed to the ink-stained desk on which he had carved his name, after school the boys stood talking in groups. My father says that Schindler Hans, his fellow, is a menace, growled R.E. Koren, a son of one of the wealthiest farmers of the Rhinestater polder. He and his motorbike. I hear he is looking for a fourth aviator to betray now, as if three weren't enough. I think we should keep our eye on Lienert, said Dirk Jan. We should find out what he is doing and warn people. Exactly my opinion, agreed Ingel de Bry. Let's go to my house to discuss it. The boys moved off. Meanwhile, Joris stood transfixed before a poster which had been pasted on the wall of the Burgomaster's house. The others had not noticed it. No dog owners, it said. The German army is in need of dogs. All dog owners must bring their pets to the Fussilfiel on Saturday of this week. Dogs useful to the army will be accepted. Rejected dogs will get a red tag. Dogs who do not have such a tag will be shot. That meant Freya. The Germans would be sure to want her. She was quite big now and very strong and beautiful. If Joris did not bring her, she would be shot. Either way, he would lose her and never, never, never would he find a dog like her again. Perhaps this had happened because he had not really prayed lightly. Perhaps if he went to church now and prayed very hard, God would forgive him and save Freya. God always forgave you when you were sorry. The church was cold and empty. Few candles burned as they were getting too scarce. Only the red light flickered before the altar. Joris stumbled into the pew. He wanted to pray, but all he could think of was Freya. Freya waiting to go for a walk, her head to one side, her ears cocked. Freya hiding from her bath, creeping under the table and unable to keep her tail from wagging when she heard Joris' steps. So the thump-thump on the floor betrayed her. Freya lying before the stove like a lovely hearth rug, her paws twitching in her sleep. There was no end to the pictures Joris saw. At last he just put his head on the pew and sobbed. My dear child, said a voice, and he felt Father Kovus' hand on his head. What is the trouble? Bad news at home? There was real concern in his voice. Such cruel things happened every day. The Germans are going to take away our dog, sobbed Joris. She'll have to go to Germany and I'll never see her again. Dear, dear. The priest was stroking Joris' head and there was a note of relief in his voice. The news was not as tragic as it might have been, but when he looked at Joris' tear-stained face he realized that it was a serious matter all the same. I don't understand God, Joris went on rebelliously. Why doesn't he stop the Germans? Why does he let them go on and on doing awful things to people when he is almighty and can stop them? Here was a theological problem. Father Kovus sat down to it, pushing into the pew beside Joris. How would you like God to stop them? he asked. He should kill them all, said Joris fiercely. There was a silence. Joris heard his own words echo through the church and they frightened him. You mean you want God to kill all the fathers and mothers and the babies and the little girls and boys, the old grandfathers, the artists and the people who make songs just because they are Germans? Father Kovus asked gently. It was Joris' own argument used against him. No, no, he said faithfully. Faithfully? I didn't mean that. Then what do you expect God to do? Well, he could kill Hitler and all those awful people who started the war, argued Joris. And not give them the chance to be sorry to save their souls? asked Father Kovus. Joris had not thought of that. In books we were always pleased when the villains were killed, but God would worry about their souls. He saw that. Well? asked Father Kovus. Joris had to admit that was out, too. Could he not at least make the Allies win? Joris asked. He will. He will, the priest assured him. They are winning, but it won't solve anything for long. Wars never do. The evil is inside and has to be conquered inside. That is where God works. It is in your heart that the Lord will conquer. Joris sighed. He did not think God was making much headway in his heart. Look what he had just been wishing. Then there is another thing, Father Kovus went on. If God interfered too much with us, we would not be free. You have a dog. Would you like it if she only followed you when you dragged her by a rope? Joris' eyes lit up. She doesn't, he cried. She follows me everywhere because she wants to. She looks for me when I'm away. She watches after me when I go to school, with her front paws on the windowsill. Once, when I had a cold and couldn't go out, she lay at the foot of my bed all day long. Joris' triumphant voice rang through the church. Hush, child, hush, said Father Kovus, smiling a little. I can see that your dog loves you, and it is the way God wants us to love him. He wants us to follow him, out of our own free will. Will he not do a little miracle, then, to save Freya? asked Joris humbly. The priest smiled again. I'll make a personal request to him, he promised. Joris' spirits lifted. If a holy person like Father Kovus asked for a miracle, God was sure to give it to him. Consoled, he thanked Father Kovus and ran all the way home. Meanwhile, Dirtjan and his friends had left the doctor's house, where they had had a conference about Leandert. Riena was present, looking stronger. The upshot of the conference had been that the boys had resolved to take turns watching Leandert as much as they could. Now they passed the burgomaster's house and noticed the message to dog owners. Phew! said Ingle. They're never satisfied. Are they? They've taken our copper, our silver, our bicycles, food, radios, and now they want our pets. They'll take Freya, murmured Dirtjan. It will break Joris' heart. Can't you hide her? Not with Leandert around. He'd notice if we didn't bring her. But if she had a red tag, mused Ingle, wait a minute, I think I've got an idea. They won't want our flip. He's too old. What if you took him instead, and so got a red tag for Freya? On Saturday, the football field was transformed into a scene of tragedy. Children and adults parting from their pets. Fat German officer sat on a platform under an enormous red banner with a black swastika on it. One by one, aged people brought shivering little lap dogs, the last comfort of their lives. Luckily, the German army did not want small dogs. The old ladies went off rejoicing with their red tags. All the bigger dogs were taken, except a few who had physical defects. The farmer parted from his sturdy bulldog with such grief that even the German officers had tears in their eyes, but they took the dog all the same. However, they said kind words to the farmer in broken Dutch, telling him how noble it was to serve in the unconquerable German army, and how glad he should be that his dog was chosen for such a glorious mission. The farmer made a rude noise in his throat and spat on the ground. So the parade went on. Dogs came not only from the neighboring farms, but from villages quite a distance away. Dirk Jan led poor old Flip by a string and waited in line. Then he ducked because he saw Liendert Schinderhans, the head with Nero. He'd know Dirk Jan was not bringing the Verheggens' dog. Now Liendert was dragging the unwilling Nero before the German judges. They praised the beautiful dog and clapped Liendert on the shoulder. Dirk Jan guessed that Hendrik had refused to bring the dog himself. He could very well imagine how Hendrik must have pleaded with Liendert to use his influence with the Germans to let him keep his pet. But Liendert wouldn't care. All he wanted was to be in favor with the Nazis. When Liendert had delivered Nero, he did not leave. He stayed with the officers, feeling one of them. It was clear that the officers didn't like it, but they didn't tell him to go away. Liendert was useful to them. Dirk Jan wished they had sent him away. It was most awkward having Liendert there. Dirk Jan looked behind him. There was a long queue. If he lost his place, he might never get a turn again. It was better to risk going on. So Dirk Jan ventured forth with Flip and marched before the judges. Poor Flip could hardly stand up and was greeted with yells of derision. The vet did not even bother to examine him, but flung a red tag at Dirk Jan with the remark that the German army was not going to pay for the dog's funeral. Dirk Jan was happily picking up the tag when Schindlerhans interfered. That is not the boy's dog. It doesn't belong to him. He told the vet in extremely bad German. So what? said the vet. I don't care who it belongs to. I don't want the old carcass. But... but... but... don't you see? Liendert fell over his words in order to explain quickly. It's the doctor's dog. He has not his own. Wunderwetter! shouted the vet, getting angry. I do not want this dog, you hear? I do not want him! Take him away! He glared at Dirk Jan, who grabbed Flip under his arm and ran off, amazed at this incredible piece of luxe. And you too! Oh, I mean, and you too! thundered the vet at Liendert. Interfering the lump of clumsy Dutchman, do you think the German army is a home for broken-down animals? Liendert slunk away. At the watchman, a radiant Joris tied the red tag to Freya's collar, believing most firmly in the efficacy of Father Koos's prayers.