Everyday Courage

My dear old granny was a widow with two teenage sons during the war. They lived in a nice townhouse in Copenhagen.

Because of her comfortable accomodations, the occupying German army stationed four officers in her house. With no options, she entertained them graciously, as she was a fabulous cook.

This naturally provoked resentment among her neighbors, some of whom secretly marked swastikas on her door each night. Each morning she washed them off.

What her neighbors did not know was this:

She was a member of the Danish underground.

She had two septic tanks in the basement of the house; one was sealed while the other in use. The members would stash arms for the resistence in the sealed tank. They used her house as a meeting place and picked up needed weapons there.

They did this while she bravely entertained four German officers in her dining room two floors above.

Can you imagine how she felt inside? Smiling serenely to her "guests" each night, listening in terror for any sound that might alert them, searching each morning for any sign in the dirt that might give her away?

Can you imagine how her heart pounded, knowing she was alone without a husband, with two sons? She was a wise old woman -- she knew what penalties they faced if found out.

Her old eyes filled with tears 50 years later as she talked about the sound of young men, "our neighbors' children," being shot at the wall. "It happened that sometimes we could hear it," she said, shaking her old white head, lost in memory.

Every member of my family was involved in the resistance in some way, young and old. They taught me that heroism during wartime is a way of life. The way of life.

My dear old granny lived to be 96 and she lived a life full of daring adventure. She was a fascinating and funny woman of extraordinary courage.

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