Page 91 of All We Thought We Knew
“As you wish. I will make a note, asking Dr. Ludwig to look in on you. Good night, Mr. Schmidt.”
A small, bespectacled, suit-clad man emerged from behind the curtain. He was thinner than Gunther remembered, but there was no mistaking his old professor.
“Dr. Sonnenberg?”
His mentor’s eyes widened. “Gunther Schneider,” he said, clearly as astonished to see Gunther as Gunther was to see him. “I could not have wished for anything so wonderful as to find my favorite student here in North Dakota.”
The two embraced.
“How long have you been here?” the older man asked when they parted.
“I arrived in May,” Gunther said. “Before that I was in Tennessee, and before that, Ellis Island.”
Dr. Sonnenberg opened his mouth to respond, but Wolfgang’s loud voice interrupted their reunion.
“Schneider, don’t tell me you’re a Jew-lover as well as a traitor,” he shouted. Gunther couldn’t see the riled sailor’s face, but it didn’t matter. He’d witnessed Wolfgang’s anger plenty of times in the past three months. “I always knew you couldn’t be trusted.”
Gunther ignored the remark and motioned for Dr. Sonnenbergto follow him. He led the man to an empty room at the far end of the hallway where they could talk in private.
“I cannot believe you’re here.” Gunther spoke in hushed English, astonished at finding his beloved professor so far from Columbia medical school. “When were you arrested?”
“In the spring. My longtime position at the university kept me safe for a while, but I knew it was a matter of time before they came for me.” He gave a helpless shrug. “They accused me of being a spy.”
“Were you given a hearing?”
Dr. Sonnenberg shook his head. “I was charged with passing vital information to the Gestapo. There was supposedly evidence but nothing was ever presented. I was held at Ellis Island until three days ago.”
A memory surfaced in Gunther’s mind. “When I was questioned on the island, they showed me a telegram you received, with instructions to destroy files after America declared war on Germany.”
He gave a solemn nod. “I suspect my nurse was a spy. I don’t know what secrets she passed while working in the clinic, but I believe her associates sent the telegram to me to throw the authorities off her trail.”
Gunther’s stomach roiled at the injustice. “You are a renowned doctor and professor at Columbia medical school. It is obscene the way you’ve been treated.”
“I am a German in their eyes. Nothing more, nothing less.” His keen gaze studied Gunther. “Tell me about yourself. Are you practicing medicine these days?”
Gunther filled his mentor in on the work he’d done at Camp Forrest, giving the doctor credit for demonstrating the lifesaving technique he’d used on the soldier in the mess hall. He told how Colonel Foster assigned him to the dispensary and recommendedhim for the hospital at Fort Lincoln when they learned of his transfer.
Gunther left out the part about Ava’s help and how she’d become someone dear to him. He’d been disappointed she hadn’t come to the depot to see him off. The one brief letter he’d received hadn’t given him hope she felt more than friendship, and he’d deliberated the wisdom of continuing the correspondence. Ultimately, he decided he would rather have Ava as a friend than not have her in his life at all. He’d sent another letter and now awaited her response.
“What barracks are you assigned to?” Gunther asked as they made their way outside.
The small medical building was located on the west end of the internment camp, just beyond the ten-foot cyclone fence surrounding the complex. Only authorized personnel were permitted in and out. Should someone attempt an escape, as Gunther had heard happened before he arrived, patrolmen positioned in the seven steel guard towers strategically located along the fence were armed and ready to stop the desperate inmate from getting far.
The sun had just disappeared below the treeless horizon when they were escorted through the gate. Although afternoons could get hot on the North Dakota prairie, evenings were comfortable and pleasant. All that would change once winter arrived, he reminded himself daily.
As it turned out, Dr. Sonnenberg was housed in the same redbrick building as Gunther but on a different level. The man sharing Gunther’s small, dormitory-like room volunteered to switch with Dr. Sonnenberg when he heard of their long friendship, allowing Gunther to delight in deep conversations with his mentor once again.
If not for the ugly detail of being held prisoners of the American government, Gunther might have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
• • •
By September, Gunther and Dr. Sonnenberg had firmly reestablished their teacher-student relationship, with the older man giving wise instruction to Gunther as they worked side by side in the hospital. Medical procedures, thoughts on various medications, and all manner of lively scientific discussions helped lift the depression each of them had carried since their arrests. Although they continued to remain hopeful their internment would not last the duration of the war, having a friend one could trust was life-giving while they awaited freedom.
Two events, however, reminded everyone of their status as enemy aliens in America.
On a mid-September evening, Gunther and Dr. Sonnenberg were making rounds at the hospital when the roar of loud voices came from the enclosed camp.
“That does not sound good,” Gunther said. He rushed to a window and looked out across the yard. A large group of internees—too many to count—made their way toward the main gate, shouting, and brandishing sticks and anything else they could use as a weapon. “It looks like a riot.”
