C h a p t e r 3 L o n d o n C a l l i n g
Her last view of Casablanca was of Ricks place. In the sky above
Morocco, on that dark December night in 1941, there were tears
in Ilsa's eyes.
She touched her husbands arm. "I didn't know Rick was in
Casablanca. How could I? Are you upset about Rick and me? In
Paris I had nothing, not even hope."
She started to cry again, but she was not sure why. "Then I
learned that you were alive, and that you needed me to help you
in your fight against the Nazis—your fight for the freedom of
Europe. Now I understand why you kept our marriage a secret
from our friends. You didn't want the Gestapo to suspect that I
was your wife." She managed to look over at Victor, but he was
staring straight ahead, lost in thought. "Tell me . . . tell me you
aren't angry with me."
For a time they sat together in silence. Then Victor said, "I
choose to live without anger or jealousy. My work is too
important. And, my dear, when we get to Lisbon, I want you to do
exactly what I tell you. It will be very dangerous. I haven't told you
about the plans because I haven't been able to tell anyone. I don't
even know all the details myself yet. I'm sure you understand."
"I'm sure I do," said Ilsa quietly. She admired Victor's calm
certainty. Would she ever experience that herself?
"This is more dangerous than anything I have ever done
before. But I know we're doing the right thing when even a man
like Rick can see the difference between us and the Germans."
He smiled at her.
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"What do you mean?" said Ilsa.
"Rick has taken years to realize that there are more important
things in life than his own happiness. He gave us those exit visas
instead of keeping them for himself. He knew I had to escape
from Casablanca."
Victor said nothing more until they arrived in Lisbon.
When Ilsa woke the next morning, in the Hotel Aviz, Victor
wasn't in bed. On the other side of the bedroom door, she could
hear whispers:"... British . . . danger . . . alive . . . der Henker . . .
Prague . . . as soon as possible . . . "
She heard a door shut softly, and she jumped back into bed
when she heard the turn of the key in the lock. "Is that you,
Victor?" She pretended to be sleepy.
"Yes, my dear. I went out for a morning walk." Ilsa opened her
eyes. "And, there's some wonderful news. The Americans will
have to join the war now."
Ilsa sat up. "Why?" she asked.
"Because the Japanese have bombed American ships in Pearl
Harbor. Most of the ships were destroyed, and many men were
killed. Don't you understand? It will take time, but Germany's
finished. Now we can act. We must pack our clothes
immediately." Victor was almost shouting now.
Ilsa got up quickly and began to pack. "I've always wanted to
see New York," she said.
"We aren't going to New York now."
"Then where are we going?"
"To London. We're going to plan our fight in London. Lots of
Czech people live there. Some were in the government in Prague
before the Germans arrived."
Ilsa suddenly remembered Rick. She had asked him to follow
her. Now she must tell him where to go. She wrote a message
(To London . . . Der Henker . . . Danger . . . Prague . . . come
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quickly . . . ) She asked the man at the hotel desk to give it to
Mr. Richard Blaine.
In an hour, they were in another airplane.
"Victor," Ilsa whispered, "let me help you this time."
Victor looked straight ahead. His mind was not on the present,
but the future.
•
Victor arrived in England to a hero's welcome, but a secret
one. At the airport they wore their collars up and their hats
down. A car took them to a house in a quiet London street.
There, two men spoke to Victor, but too softly for Ilsa to hear.
After a few minutes, Victor asked Ilsa to go upstairs to rest, but
although she was tired, she couldn't sleep. She had been in this
situation many times before (meetings in the middle of the
night, strange men with hidden faces), and she was always
asked to leave the room. She was proud of Victor, but she
wanted to work with him and be a real member of the
Resistance group.
She also wondered if Rick had seen her messages, and if he
was following. Rick had given her something that she had never
had before, a closeness and excitement. She realized for the first
time that her feelings for Rick were exactly the same as Victor's
feelings for his work. She knew she loved Rick, but her place had
to be beside her husband.
At that moment, the door opened and Victor came in.
"Victor, there's something that I need to say to you." She sat
up and faced her husband. "I don't know why we're here, or what
you're planning . . . "
"That's for your own safety."
"But I want to be part of the Resistance, part of your work. I
want to share it with you. Please," she said.
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"That's impossible."
"It isn't. I can do much more. I want the same as you."
"You're certain?" He could see she was serious.
They went downstairs.
"Gentlemen," said Victor, "this is my wife," and he introduced
the British Secretary of War and Major Miles to Ilsa. "She has
something to say to you."
"Yes," began Ilsa. "I've talked to my husband. I understand all
the dangers. I've lived through so much in the last two years,
with and without my husband—at one point I thought he was
dead. I want to take part in your activities . . . I mean, our
activities."
Major Miles looked at Victor, who smiled. "Well, this is
wonderful, Mr. Laszlo.You're a very lucky man."
Victor smiled. "Thank you," he said. "You can see that we're
both ready to die for our beliefs, like our two friends here . . . My
dear, I forgot to introduce you to these two men. This is Jan
Kubiš and this is Josef Gabčík. They're from Czechoslovakia.
They're helping us with plans for the fight against the Germans
in their country."
When the meeting finished, Ilsa sat and thought about her
past. She thought about her early life in Norway and her student
days at the Sorbonne in Paris. She was a star student; she had
studied Slavic languages, and was especially good at Russian. In
1939, she had met Victor. She loved to remember his first words
to her: "Miss Lund, they told me that you are the most beautiful
girl in Paris. They were lying. You are the most beautiful girl
in Europe!"
Victor's work had always been dangerous, and when they got
married, not even their friends knew about it. Victor continued
to work for the Resistance, and then he told Ilsa that he had to
return home to Czechoslovakia. Ilsa didn't want him to go. ("Ilsa,
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I must go. How can I ask others to do what I won't do myself?")
In Prague, the Gestapo were waiting for him. A few days later, his
death was reported.
Ilsa continued to study, but she also worked for the Resistance
because she felt she was continuing Victor's work. Some months
later, she met Rick.
She thought about them, Rick and Victor. Was it possible to
love two men at the same time? Victor had taught her about love
of her country, for other people, and for freedom. Rick had
brought her back to life. When she was with Rick, she felt like a
woman. She felt important, and he loved her. And then, Victor
came back from the dead.
Ilsa's mind was full of different emotions and impossible
decisions. "Victors my husband," she thought. "His work for
Czechoslovakia, and for everybody in Europe, is the most
important . . . " But tears came to her eyes. She wondered if Rick
was in London.
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