The propaganda meant nothing to Frederick because he had always had only one opinion of the war—that it was wrong. For him, music represented the warmth he never received as a child. There was nothing he could look back on in his upbringing that made him nostalgic about his relationship with his father. He didn’t have memories of Karl teaching him how to fish, camp, or talk to girls, because none of that ever happened. And he also didn’t know what real committed love looked like, because his parents didn’t have a loving marriage. With his father away every weekend with his girlfriend, Frederick knew only infidelity, loneliness, and betrayal. He had no idea what true romantic love felt like, but when he listened to jazz he longed for it.25

The dysfunction of Margarete and Karl’s relationship fueled Frederick’s desire to have a genuine relationship with a woman. He didn’t want any arrangement or obligation for the sake of keeping up appearances. He wanted an intense bond with a woman who would be by his side and make him feel valued as a man. And he associated his passion for love with music by African Americans.

It seemed like a typical late summer afternoon. It was scorching hot outside as usual, and Frederick was relieved that his kitchen duties allowed him to wear lightweight clothing. He normally didn’t venture out into the mess hall, as every POW had his designated role. The cooks stayed in the kitchen; the servers worked the main floor. But every now and then, those in the back wanted to see what was happening out front. And that day, Frederick glimpsed into the dining area. Not long before, a group of black nurses had been transitioned into the hospital staff. Since most of the POWs had never spent any time around black people, the nurses’ arrival did not go unnoticed.

A profound feeling overcame Frederick when he spotted a beautiful, tall black woman. He had never felt so drawn to a complete stranger before. It was if he had been hypnotized when he first made eye contact with Elinor. She walked in with other nurses and headed toward their designated eating area, which was removed from the tables where white officers and physicians sat. Frederick didn’t see anyone else in the room. She was striking at six feet tall, and her impeccable posture gave her a regal quality; her mother had always told her daughters to stand up straight the way dignified and important women did.

Incapable of concentrating on his kitchen duties, Frederick bypassed the POW waiters and walked right up to Elinor. He looked her in the eyes, smiled, and said with a German accent, “You should know my name. I’m the man who is going to marry you.”26