An unlikely romance animates 鈥楾he Girl from the Channel Islands鈥�
Last spring marked the 75th anniversary of Liberation Day in the Channel Islands, the only part of the British Isles to be occupied by Nazi forces during World War II. The celebration had to be held virtually because of COVID-19 restrictions, but physical separation couldn鈥檛 dampen the joy expressed by generations of island dwellers as they remembered the heroic feats of survival that occurred so many years ago.
That resilience required an abundance of goodness, courage, and humanity, which are expressed in spades in Jenny Lecoat鈥檚 historical fiction debut based on the events of the occupation: 鈥淭he Girl from the Channel Islands.鈥� For Lecoat, the history is personal. She was born on Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands, and members of her family lived through the events she depicts in her novel. (Two were even deported to concentration camps.) Her deeply moving screenplay for the 2017 film 鈥淎nother Mother鈥檚 Son鈥� tells the story of her great-aunt, Louisa Gould, who secretly sheltered a Russian slave laborer after her son was killed in the war.
From the beginning of 鈥淭he Girl from the Channel Islands,鈥� Lecoat advances a narrative of optimism. 鈥淥utside the window, the strongest, brightest stars were beginning to push through the darkness,鈥� she writes, foreshadowing the inner light of bravery that grew within island residents as they persevered through the occupation. One of those islanders is protagonist Hedwig 鈥淗edy鈥� Bercu, a Jewish woman from Vienna who escaped the Anschluss 鈥� only to find herself hiding in plain sight from the Nazis on Jersey as she reluctantly works as a translator for them. Supporting the enemy, even to ensure her continued safety, takes its toll.
鈥淓ach morning she watched as the trucks, filled with dead-eyed mercenaries, rumbled off to their construction sites to reinforce antitank walls and build new airport runways, knowing that she was now a part of it,鈥� writes Lecoat. 鈥淪urvival, it seemed, was an expensive business for the soul.鈥�
Eventually, Hedy encounters Lieutenant Kurt Neumann, a sympathetic German officer. The two聽 are drawn together despite their differences, and despite the fact that Hedy continues to hide her identity. Still, their unlikely romance is an antidote to the confining, inhumane rhythms of wartime life. And romance branches out into acts of resistance: Hedy steals petrol coupons and gives them to island doctors so that they can travel to patients. 鈥淚t鈥檚 an atonement, for taking wages from the Krauts. My own personal mitzvah,鈥� Hedy confesses.
And Hedy finds a sense of belonging. Her friends become her family, and their interactions provide a nourishing backdrop of support and goodwill. Hedy鈥檚 fellow Austrian escapee, a shy baker named Anton, is like a brother to her 鈥� though she鈥檚 less sure about his Jersey girlfriend, Dorothea Le Brocq, who Anton insists has 鈥渁 heart of gold.鈥� But it turns out there鈥檚 infinitely more to Dory than meets the eye, even though 鈥渢he woman鈥檚 obsession with old movie magazines and endless chatter about hairstyles made for poor conversation.鈥�
Lecoat provides generous descriptions of the island setting, and her dialogue captures the emotional nuances of each moment. Flashes of humor lighten the weighty plot. (Lecoat鈥檚 background as a comic likely helps with this.) Scenes featuring villains, meanwhile, produce visceral reactions of dismay.
As rumors of an Allied rescue attempt circulate, Hedy must go into hiding to survive. The plot intensifies, until it finally reaches a conclusion that is well worth the wait. 鈥淭he Girl from the Channel Islands鈥� sends a timely message of hope and underscores the incredible importance of embracing forgiveness and inclusivity.
