Of Windmills and War Read Online Free Page A

taken by my cousin
Piet. The windmill behind us is not far from our home. It is called Mollen De
Ster (Star Windmill) and it is my favorite. This picture was taken when we had
a family picnic with Piet and his family. That is Anya standing to my left.
Mother was upset with her for scraping her knee while chasing Piet through a
tulip field.
    By the
time you get this letter, perhaps your letter and picture will arrive here. I
wonder if you look as I imagine you to look!
    Your friend,
    Hans
     
    Danny carefully
unwrapped the tissue paper folded around the photograph. He too had been
curious what his Dutch friend looked like. It was strange to be good friends
with someone he’d never met. Immediately he spotted Hans standing next to his
father. Danny smiled seeing his picture for the first time. Hans had a thick
head of blond hair brushed straight back. His face was oval, his chin squared a
bit. He assumed Hans’ eyes were blue, though he couldn’t be sure in the gray tones
of the photograph. He had a friendly smile, just as he’d expected. Now he had a
face to go with the name.
    Hans
looked a good deal like his father, except for the round glasses perched on his
father’s nose and the bushy mustache below it. He too had a friendly smile.
Danny wondered what it was like to hear him preach. Was he soft spoken and
kind, or one of those who shouted his sermons? Then he looked at Hans’ mother,
her face quite beautiful despite the firm set of her lips. Danny recognized
that expression, so similar to his own mother’s when she got upset. And then he
glanced at Anya standing there with her arms folded across her chest and a
pronounced scowl on her face. Sure enough, her pant leg was stained and dirty
at the knee. Two messy pigtails hung down three or four inches below her
shoulders. Danny chuckled, having no trouble imagining the girl’s mischief.
    He
studied the windmill in the background, its four outstretched wings lending an
air of majesty to the photograph. Hans had explained the important role of the windmolen helping pump water from Holland ’s precious land to prevent
flooding. The Dutch had a long history battling their below-sea level ground,
and the windmills stood at the forefront of those battles, dating all the way back
to the thirteenth century—a fact Danny had included in his latest report for
Mr. Chesterton’s class.
    He
leaned his head back on the pillow, crossing one arm over his head. As he often
did after reading Hans’ letters, he tried to picture himself in their world. He
wondered what it would be like to live in a land dotted with those big
windmills. He wondered what it must look like to see everyone riding bicycles
to and from their destinations. And he wondered what it felt like to have that
Hitler nut just across the border breathing down your neck. Hans said everyone
in The Netherlands was nervous about the Germans.
    Danny’s
only worry was if the Cubs would make it to the World Series.
    How
different, their worlds.

3
     
     
    October
1938
     
    Dear
Hans,
    I still
can’t believe it. Our Cubs made it all the way to the World Series, then they
lost the first four games! FOUR GAMES! The first two games were played here at
Wrigley. We couldn’t get tickets. Probably just as well. Dad would’ve killed me
if he found out I skipped school to go, but I sure wanted to. But everybody’s
real upset. We were so sure this was our year! People keep blaming Dizzy Dean
for letting us down, but I think they should get off his back. If it wasn’t for
him, the Cubs never would’ve made it to the World Series. I don’t know, I’m
just real sore we lost.
    In your
last letter, you said your mother was not well. Is she better now? I told Mom
about her and she promised to pray for her.
    Joey said
he’s getting used to being in the military. He seems to like being stationed in Norfolk , but
hopes to get assigned to a ship soon. I wish I could go see him. He said I’d
love living near the ocean.
    Well,