Chapter Eleven
January 30, 1942 Berlin, Germany
The hall very large and filled with a cocktail of cigarette scents. Above us and on the walls were long red banners decorated with the Nazi swastika. Every one inside the Sportpalast including me was dressed in full gray-green SS military fatigue. The mood was somber. Every face was grim.
'We have never done anything to England or France. We also have never done anything to America. Nevertheless, there follows now the declaration of war, and now it has gone further.' The man shouted. He wore an angry expression on his oval shaped face, his black eyebrows furrowed. It was the Fuhrer. He was speaking in German, and very animatedly too as he stood grim-faced on the podium. Eel whispered to me that the third Reich had just declared war on the United States.
Behind the Fuhrer, on the podium, seated facing towards us and listening intently to the Fuhrer's speech were, according to Eel, from right to left, Heinrich Himmler, Hans Oster, Friedrich von Rabenau, Josef Dietrich, Paul Hausser, and Theodore Eicke, all high ranking Nazi Military officials and SS officers. Above them looking down was the all imposing Nazi Red flag bearing the black Eagle atop the black swastika's pointing arrows encircled in a white circle.
'However, you must out of my whole history understand me rightly,' continued the Fuhrer, 'I once said something that foreign countries did not understand. I said, "If the war is inevitable, then I should rather be the one to conduct it not because I thirst after this fame, on the contrary, I here gladly renounce that fame, which is in my eyes no fame at all. My fame, if Providence preserves my life, will consist in works of peace, which I still intend to create. But I think that if Providence has already disposed that I can do what must be done according to the inscrutable will of the Providence, then I can at least just ask Providence to entrust to me the burden of this war, to load it on me. I will beat it! I will shrink from no responsibility; in every hour I will take this burden upon me. I will bear every responsibility, just as I have always borne them.'
'Eel,' Uncle Henry whispered. He and Doctor Lynn were tightly squeezed in the row behind ours.
‘How are we to get close to the man?’
'After the speech, I will introduce you to him.' Eel whispered back.
'The home front therefore need not be warned,' the animated Fuhrer spoke wiping sweat off his hair covered brow with a white handkerchief. 'The prayer of this priest of the devil, the wish that Europe may be punished with Bolshevism, will not be fulfilled, but rather that the prayer may be fulfilled; Lord God, give us the strength that we may retain our liberty for our children and our children's children, not only for ourselves, but also for the other peoples of Europe, for this is a war which we wage, not for our German people alone, but for all of Europe and for all of humanity!'
This was immediately followed by a standing ovation accentuated by loud applause from the now overly excited crowd, right arms came out stretched, raised in salute pointing skywards.
'Herr Hitler!' the packed hall noisily echoing in chorus to repeated chants.
Ten minutes later, we were in the Fuhrer’s motorcade travelling to his official residence, the new Reich Chancellery at the corner of Voßstrasse and Wilhelmstraße, a mud brown building four hundred meters long and twenty meters high. The heavily guarded entrance was adorned with four monumental pillars, the Reich eagle with swastika again occupying a prominent position above the portal.
We were then briskly ushered through a medium sized reception room whose double doors almost seventeen feet high opened into a large hall clad in mosaic. We ascended several steps, passed through a round room with a domed ceiling into a long intimidating corridor, shown through a brazen door leading into a cozy office space.
Inside the office six men stood. Eel introduced us first to the head of the Reich Chancellery Martin Bormann, Hermann Goring, Propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, the Fuhrer's pilot Hans Baur, his Favorite Architect Albert Speer and lastly to the Fuhrer himself.
'Herr Ileus came to us in our party's infancy, when we were still known as the German workers party.' The Fuhrer said pointing at Eel, 'At that time, I had just embarked on writing a paper on social classes or class interests. These interests which seemed to be founded in classrooms stood in the way of interests which lie in the people themselves.'
'Korrekt!' interjected Joseph Goebbels the Fuhrer's Propaganda minister beaming.
Although I didn’t understand German, at least that word didn’t escape my mind as to what he meant.
A few more pleasantries were exchanged between the Fuhrer, Eel and the Fuhrer's confidants, before we were asked to follow the Fuhrer up stairs into the Führerwohnung-Leader’s apartment.
'I have been entrusted with the greatest authority among this people, and the being who entrusted me with this power knows me.' I noticed he seemed to walk with a slight limp.
'It knows that I had endless plans in those years before the war. It sees everywhere the signs of works I have begun, the works being done and sees also the possibility of completion. Although he remains hidden from view, he instructs me. His intentions I carry out which makes him the true cause and purpose of this struggle.' The Fuhrer then walking to the window, drew its huge purple curtains allowing into the study the evening sunlight.
'When I saw you seated in the crowds today,' he continued, 'I knew he had sent you Herr Ileus. So, tell me, what does he want now? I have done everything he asked of me. I've waged war on Poland, France, attacked Russia, plundered these countries reserves, taken their gold, silver, art, you name it. I have killed all who have tried to stand in my way, our way. To tell you the truth Herr Ileus, I sometimes wonder why my master hates humanity so.'
'We are here to relieve you of this burden my dear Fuhrer.' Eel replied. I could see the look of terror flash in the Fuhrer's eyes as those words fell to his ears.
'So you are here to kill me then Herr Ileus?'
'No, no. I am only here to take that rock our master entrusted to you.'
'But it's why I have been successful this far, without it, the third Reich will be defeated by our enemies, trampled on and not to mention what will happen to me and to Eva.'
'My master assures you of victory Herr Hitler. He himself will see to it that no one grabs victory from your grasp and not to mention, your reward will be great.'
'I most certainly hope so.'
Without another word, the Fuhrer strode briskly to his neatly polished Mahogany desk, bent and opened a drawer retrieving a metallic box handing it to Eel.
'There you go Herr Ileus, tell my master his humble servant awaits his reward.'
'I most certainly will convey your message.' Eel answered taking the box and opening it. He glanced into it before shutting it again and then passed it over to me.
Outside the new Reich Chancellery, we were escorted by a young grim faced officer to a waiting army Jeep.
'That was easy.' Uncle Henry whispered to me as we climbed into the back of the open Jeep. Our driver was yet another grim faced young German soldier. As we began to move, I noticed we were in a convoy as more Jeeps and trucks followed closely in our direction heading into central Berlin. It had quickly turned dark. I could barely see anything on either side of the road. It was freezing cold and looked gloomy. Berlin was in total darkness. Our Jeep's dim headlights flashed only a few meters ahead. The trucks following behind flashed no headlights at all.
'Am Scared Henry.' Doctor Lynn said.
'We all are'. Uncle Henry replied trying to smile 'Danny boy here looks like he's just been hit by a truck. But don’t you worry Di, we will make it out of here alive, put all this behind us and forget this ever happened, I promise.'
She looked like a young man in her SS uniform. Our Jeep came to a sudden halt. It was a road block. I could see Metal and wire barricades lined across the road.
‘stopp! Identifikation!’ A hoarse male voice bellowed in the dark. Next, I saw the young Jeep driver jump and run towards the barricade with both his arms rais
ed in the air shouting
‘Amis!! Amis!!’
‘Legen Sie Ihre Hände, wo ich sie sehen kann!’ Another voice commanded. I heard guns being cocked.
‘What’s going on?’ I heard Uncle Henry yell.
‘We are surrounded!’
I panicked. We had nowhere to retreat to, we were on a bridge. We raised our hands surrendering to a large group of German soldiers who had surrounded our Jeep.
At twelve noon the following day, I was sitting on a cold concrete floor in a filthy cellar next to Eel. Uncle Henry was squatting in the corner. Doctor Lynn had been whisked away to God knows where. A German solider with a crooked nose walked into our cellar and hit me in the face with his rifle butt sending spasms of pain throughout my entire body. I tasted warm blood on my lips.
‘Aufstehen!’ He shouted at me. His blood shot eyes and tobacco breath hitting me. He kicked at my feet.
‘He says you get up.’ Eel said.
‘Where do you think they are taking us?’
‘I think to the slaughter house.' answered Eel.
‘Halt den Mund!’ The now visibly angry German man shouted back at Eel’s face.
We were bundled onto a wooden lorry truck with loads of frightened men, women and children and as we travelled through Berlin hurdled in the back of the open truck; people lined the streets hurling bricks and missiles at us as we sped past. Almost an hour later, our lorry came to an abrupt halt. With guns drawn at us, we were asked to disembark from the lorry by irate soldiers. Pushed and shoved into queues.
‘Willkommen zu Hause!’ The commander yelled. We were all lined up to enter the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. I could see Uncle Henry’s tall frame a few bodies ahead of me which brought me some relief. I couldn’t see Eel or Doctor Lynn. I felt for the tiny rocks hidden in my shoes.
‘Yankie! halten zu fuß!’A hoarse voiced man yelled at me. I didn’t understand a word. He spat at me instead.
The camp's high metal gate looked rather intimidating. It was encamped inside a watch tower or building, I wasn’t very sure, but, it did have glazed glass framed windows on the ground floor and up above. The building was surrounded by a high ash grey wall stretching for what seemed like miles in either direction. As we were being marched past the half open gates, my eyes caught welded metal bars embedded into the gate in German- 'ARBEIT MACHT FREI.'
'It says 'work brings freedom'.’ Eel said behind me.
We were assembled in rows of five each outside in a large Appellplatz. On my right, I could see what looked like a camp kitchen and an open laundry area with heaps upon heaps of tattered stripped uniforms. We stood silent for almost three hours in the afternoon heat before a burly looking man smoking a pipe came, stood on a wooden pedestal and addressed us in German.
'‘Call me Mister Anton, or the individual concerned with your welfare matters.' He said. 'You are my business now. Here in this place, I am the highest authority in human and material terms. I oversee all displinary matters of this camp and also happen to be charged with your execution, should the need arise.' He continued to speak on for another half an hour before we were shoved towards our dormitories.
Inside the smelly dormitory, were rows of wooden decks staring at us, a central washing area, and a separate room lined with five stainless steel toilet bowls. On all the beds were folded gray and black stripped pajamas. Our guard, a tall man with a freckled face rudely pointed to our clothes. I reckoned he wanted me to strip.
Full dressed in prisoner garb, I climbed on to the upper deck, Eel onto the deck next to mine. Another fellow silently took to the bed adjacent to Henry’s below us. He kept staring at me. He then handed me a metal plate with a single boiled potato on it.
‘zjeść coś młodego człowieka , jego wszystko mi zostało’ He said, his eyes looking sad and tired.
‘He says eat something young man,’ Eel interpreted, ‘it’s all he’s got left.’
‘Why are we here Eel?’ Uncle turned facing up. 'Why don’t you get us out of here?’
Eel remained silent. The damp stinky black and grey stripped woolen shirt I had worn had a red triangle on the right breast area.
‘Ask him what this sign means.’ pointing to the inverted triangle cloth stitched onto my shirt.
‘jesteś komunistą’ the man answered.
Lights went out just as those words fell into my ears.
‘This camp's perimeter fence consists of a three meter-high stone wall on the outside.’ Eel’s voice came in the dark, ‘Within it, is a space that is constantly patrolled by guards and dogs. This too is bordered on the inside by a lethal electric fence, inside which, is a gravel strip forbidden to all prisoners. Any prisoner venturing onto the strip is shot by the guards without warning.'
I felt tired and soon fell asleep on top of the hard lean mattress. My dreams were strange and fragmented, mostly of the San Francisco bay area. How I missed home, sweet home.
I was awakened by a loud siren sound piercing through my ears. For a moment I didn’t know where I was.
'Aufstehen. Folgen Si Mir!' It was freckle face shouting again, and it was already morning.
Outside, we were paraded again, before being frog marched into what looked like an industrial complex on the western side camp perimeter. We walked past a group of prisoners squatting in the compound with arms outstretched in front and behind them stood four guards smoking cigarettes. The long brown building we marched into contained a workshop in which droves of malnourished looking prisoners were busy at work. It was a brick factory. I looked around anxiously, wondering where Doctor Lynn might be. Then I spotted her. She appeared shaken and frail but once she recognized us, her face lit up. She too was in a queue, dressed in prisoner garb.
‘Do you still have those rocks?’ Eel inquired as we assembled blocks of mud brick readying them for the furnace.
‘Yeah.’
‘Where?’
I motioned with my eyes pointed towards my now filthy, smelly army leather boots. The siren blared loudly again and commotion ensured as more guards came rushing into the factory shoving us into lines again. We were led out into the courtyard and in front of us, again, stood Mister Anton.
‘I once read am not so sure where,' he said waving his right arm in the air, 'that death comes like a thief in the night. Well, in all my miserable years on this earth, I’ve come to learn that death comes to us all. It doesn’t matter how, but what matters is when.’ Mister Anton had had us hastily assembled to witness a public hanging of four individuals, all male. The mere thought of death sent shivers through my entrails. Eel who stood behind me explained that the four had attempted to escape the night before.
‘I thank the rest of you for placing your lives in my hands.’ Mister Anton concluded. I found myself up front watching in horror as these four poor souls departed to the nether world. I had never seen a public hanging before in my life. There seemed to be a haunting gaze from their sullen eyes as the thick ropes tightened around their necks. I also noticed sadly that the victims seemed to wallow in pangs of anguish. Gasps for breath engulfed the men, spittle clouding their gaping mouths followed by a sudden, violent clasping of teeth, arms and feet rigidly stretched out and then, a peaceful surrender. I must admit, I immediately began contemplating my own demise. Once it was ascertained that these enemies to the third Reich were indeed dead, we were sent back to our stations.
We labored on without any rest or meals until late in the evening and as my exhausted hungry frame was about to give way, the siren rang. My back ached, my knees buckled and I felt my tongue’s dryness on my lips.
‘Folgen Si Mir!’ A solider ordered. I guessed it meant we fall in line. I wasn’t very certain but I did fall in line, somehow. On our way out, each one was handed a metal plate with a boiled potato and roasted corn which we proceeded gingerly with to our respective dormitories. I dropped like a log onto my hard mattress, tired and exhausted and closed my eyes.
'Wake up!' A male voice commanded in English. A brigh
t light flashed in my eyes preventing me from seeing who it was that stood by my bedside. A strong arm grabbed at me dragging me down from the bed.
'Move!'
He spoke with a German accent. Outside in the cold dark compound, I tried adjusting my sight towards the figures that surrounded me. The flash light came on again, directed into my face. I raised my arm trying to block the bright light,
‘Halt!’ He shouted. I stopped.
‘Where is the Fuhrer’s stone?’ The man with a husky voice asked.