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14

Lizzie

Huntsville,Alabama

1950

Cal was a civilian aeronautical engineer with the Fort Bliss experimental aviation division through the war. After it ended, he was quietly promoted to a classified project so secretive that, at first, he wouldn’t tell me a single thing about it.

I was too easily deterred from pushing him for the details, distracted as I was by Henry’s behavior after the war. The rest of the world was celebrating, but my brother was sleeping at all hours of the day and night, and irritable whenever I tried to encourage him to get out of the house. Then came the drinking, and after that, he started disappearing for days, returning broke or beaten up, or sometimes just beaten down.

After a year, Henry told me he needed to stand on his own two feet, and announced that he was leaving El Paso. I tried to convince him to stay, and Cal tried too, but Henry was determined that he knew what was best for him. We were worried, but he was an adult. We had to let him go.

Only after Henry left did Calvin finally tell me the truth about his new job. He was supervising a handful of highly trained, specialized scientists captured in Germany after the war ended, brought to America under the Operation Paperclip program.

I knew right away that something was rotten about that arrangement. Even if my common sense didn’t tell me that inviting a bunch of German scientists to America was a bad idea, Calvin’s tense, uneasy tone did.

“There’s a dossier on each of them,” he said heavily. “I’ve read them all, and they suggest that these men were geniuses and spent the entire war making scientific discoveries. Apparently their hands are clean.”

“But you don’t believe that’s true.”

Cal pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes.

“No one can know what I’m about to tell you, Lizzie. It has to stay between you and me.”

“Of course.”

“It’s just too convenient. I asked Newsome when he was in town last week. At first he insisted the dossiers were completely accurate. Only when I really pushed him did he admit the truth. It seems some...maybemost...of the German scientists we’re working withwereactive in the Nazi party. He’s even seen evidence that some of the senior scientists were officers in the SS.”

My mouth went dry. I followed the news about the Nuremberg trials so closely it was borderline unhealthy. I knew all too well what kinds of evil the SS had been responsible for.

“Those Germans must have lied to our officials! Our government would never knowingly allow anyone like that to come here,” I whispered sickly.

“Truman only allowed Operation Paperclip to proceed on the condition that no Nazi party members were included. But the skill these men have to offer us is sovaluable. Even the junior Germans I’m working with are skilled far beyond any of the Americans on my team. One senior German scientist was deemed to be so important, a team of US soldiers was sent into Berlin to capture him before the dust settled on the German capitulation. American lives were put at risk to secure that man’s knowledge. I can easily imagine officials at the Office of the Army Secretary looking at someone like him and deciding to whitewash his history.”

“Christopher Newsome can’t be comfortable with this,” I said uneasily.

“He said he’s come around to see the logic in it. He believes that those who were mixed up in the Party were probably forced to join.”

“Forced,” I scoffed. “There’s no circumstance on earth that would have convinced you or me to join the Nazi party.”

Calvin gave me a helpless look.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Don’t you have a right to know whoyou are working with? These men could be murderers, Calvin,” I pressed.

“I’m frustrated and concerned, sure. But I guess I have to remind myself that these Germans are locked up on base and no threat to anyone at Fort Bliss. We can learn from them now, then ship them home to face trial later, if that’s what the situation calls for.”

But over the years, more and more German scientists were brought across the Atlantic. And as the size of the team expanded, their privileges expanded too, until the Germans lived and worked on base but were free to do as they pleased. Calvin protested this fiercely—but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

“So...will these men still face trial once they finish sharing their knowledge with you?” I asked Calvin one day.

“I thought that was the plan, but...it’s looking like they’ll be offered permanent jobs. Maybe even citizenship.”

“But you said...you said some were probably party members. Some might even have been SS officers!” I exclaimed furiously. “We can’t just let them become Americans. What happened to justice for their victims?”

“I’m not thrilled about it either, Lizzie. But these men really can change the world. Their skills and knowledge can be the foundation of a space program. Space! One of the senior scientists is convinced we can get a man to the moon, and you know what? I’m starting to believe him.”

“The moon?” I repeated, staring at him in disbelief.

“Working with these men? Yes. This is the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said passionately. “I’ve done nothing remarkable with my life, Lizzie. We don’t even have children. But if we can learn to accept the moral compromise of working with these Germans, I could go down in history as the man who took this country to space. This could be my legacy. Tell me you understand.”

Ours was a complicated relationship, but I adored my husband and I wanted to please him. I could see that he wantedmy approval, but I couldn’t give that to him—and it turned out, he didn’t really need it.

I begged him to look for another job, but he stayed with the program anyway. And for the first time in over eleven years of marriage, we found ourselves on the opposite sides of a moral divide, with no common ground to be found.