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She was arrested by the Gestapo and taken to Pawiak prison, situated between Dzielna Street and Pawia Street in Warsaw, for interrogation. It’s a mighty four-storey complex in a grey world, and was built by the Tsarist authorities and completed in 1835, when this part of Poland belonged to the Tsar, and the rest of the country was shared by the Prussian and Austro-Hungarian Empires.
The Warsaw ghetto now sits beside it, and the prison is mainly used for political prisoners, members of Armia Krajowa (Home Army) and other dissident factions. Many of these are either dispatched to an appropriate Concentration Camp, or executed in situ, and many thousands never leave the building.
During her time there Maya paints a water coloured picture in her cell, which is signed by eighteen other inmates. Some of them write poems and paint scenes of their life during their incarceration. Others look for solace in a lone elm tree in the centre of the dark yard, situated beside the female block, which is sometimes visited by an occasional sparrow or a yellow beaked blackbird. They often envy the little creatures their freedom, as they flap their wings and fly up into the sky, leaving the earthly problems behind them. Sometimes they look up at the stars twinkling and dancing in the endless sky, and wonder where Heaven is. It seems so distant and remote from their private hell, and it appears that God and his angels are unaware of their wretched existence. Maya is considered a threat to the establishment and transferred to Ravensbrück. Read full post >>
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Schmidt notices a movement from the bushes about 400 metres away. He peers through his binoculars and notices the muzzle of a gun pointing in his direction.
Hans grabs a HE round (high explosive) and slams it into the breech.
“Range 400 metres –10 o’clock. Achtung! At my command – fire!”
The 88 makes a massive ear splitting smash and Tiger-Lilly rocks from the recoil like a nervous filly. The empty shell casing rumbles through the spring action mechanism of the shell-casing ejector, and clangs into the canvas bag.
Hans’s ears are ringing, but he enjoys sending greetings to the Bolshies. The Waffen are much quicker on the draw than their Marxist enemy.
He feeds his Tiger with HE and is determined to continue stuffing it until it chokes or throws up.“Achtung! At my command – fire!”
The massive thump of the discharged round almost merges with the booming slam of the sledgehammer impact.
Hans is ramming then in as quick as he can.
“Achtung! Load! Fire!”
“Achtung! Load! Fire!”
“Load! Keep firing!”
Hans is smiling to himself and frothing at the mouth. This must be better than Heaven. The buzz is turning him on and he’s getting more excited every moment. He’s ecstatic and his face is glowing with gleeful pleasure. He feels he might burst at any moment. At last he’s found his true calling. His commander is getting hoarser by the minute and he’ll have to use sign language if his condition worsens.Killing the bastards is pure enjoyment. It’s like eliminating targets at a carnival, except his new hits jump and hop around in circles like a raving group of fire breathing dancers and skippers, jigging and skipping in every direction.
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Gas chamber - Majdanek, Poland
Some attack each other and others tear their hair out by the roots. The frenzied scrachers and scrapers rip their nails against anything around them and bash their heads off the dark blue, inky walls of the chamber of extermination, filled with wretchedness and hopelessness. The piercing screams and screeches are fused with the endless, spine tingling shrieking, wailing and weeping, which slowly subside into a deathly silence. A ghostly stillness and calmness seems to descend like a mantle of comfort over the knotted pile of broken lives, with their stolen dreams and stolen lives. The mounds of misery are splattered with excrement, vomit, urine and bits of brain and intestines from the crushed victims. The powerful stench is joined by noxious smell of the pungent, poisonous gases.
Hans squeezes his nose together with his left hand and swallows large mouthfuls of his spirit, in order to kill the smell of the condemned and the damned. Sometimes half of a litre provides a cure and does the trick, but there are occasions when the odours cling to him and perade his insides. He’s mesmerized by some of the fixated staring eyes filled with pain, terror and shock. He believes that they’re holding secrets, which will always be locked away from him.
The Sonderkommando (Jewish, Polish and Russian inmates used by the Lublin SS) arrive and hose down the bodies and then distentangle them. They drag them outside and remove gold teeth and hair, before transporting the grizzly load to the coke-fuelled furnaces in the crematorium. The lifeless bodies melt and wrinkle as they blaze and burn. Their limbs contract and move like they’re still alive. The grotesque pageant belongs to a bizarre world that’s escaped from reality. Read full post >>
As Hans is leaving the building a tall dark haired SS-man approaches him and introduces himself.
“Hello, my name is Hermann Müller and I work in SS HQ (Headquarters) in Wilhelmstraße. I think I’ve seen you before.”
“Yes, that’s possible. I like to spend time in Berlin. My name is Hans Koch and I’m based in Sachsenhausen.”
Hans is curious and surprised at Hermann’s interest in him. Maybe they have met in one of Berlin’s many nightclubs, when he was under the weather and on the prowl for a stray female.
“Would you like a coffee, Hans? I know a nice coffee shop nearby.”
“Of course, Hermann. Why not.”
He can see that Hermann is middle class and speaks with a cultured accent. Maybe he can be a useful source of information. He looks elegant in his black uniform and obviously comes from the sunny side of the street. Hans is surprised that he’s not an officer. He’s just an SS-Sturmmann like himself.
“I’m a Berliner, and I was a student in Universitat Zu Berlin on Unter der Linden for three years. I decided to leave last year, because of some dangerous and undesirable elements there, and felt I would be better off doing useful work for the Reich.”
Hermann is economical with the truth. He is fiercely proud of his city and his university, which had been founded by the humanist Wilhelm Von Humboldt. It became a centre of German philosophy and produced Karl Marx. Albert Einstein was a professor there, when he was director of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Physics in Berlin. Hermann left because the Nazi peasants burned books, and expelled and murdered many students and professors. He was devastated and had no choice but to enlist in the forces of the Reich, as he believed he had a better chance of survival inside the serpent’s lair than outside. He likes to keep his feet on the ground so the Luftwaffe (Air Force) and the Kriegsmarine (Navy) were out of the question, which left the choice between the Wehrmacht and the SS. The streets of Berlin are wall to wall with Wehrmacht, making them almost common, and he did not want to be one of the millions. He wanted something a bit more exclusive, and the SS seemed a better choice with its maximum number restricted to ten percent of the Wehrmacht’s strength.He knows he can rise above its Nazi ideology and avoided officer training, as even he didn’t want to get buried in a sea of ideological confusion. He chose the Allgemeine SS and was happy to find a nice comfortable niche in SS HQ (Headquarter) in Berlin, so he can stay in his native city.
Hans is unsure about Hermann.
“My job is to keep the records of the camp up to date, and share information with the Gestapo.”
Hans is a trained killer and a practiced hangman and executioner in the camp, and he’s wary of his new friend. He knows his curriculum vitae would make many cringe, and he does not intend to reveal his real purpose to an ex university pen pusher. Read full post >>
"On 19 July 1969, at the Church Congress in Stuttgart, Manfred Augst, Ute Scheub ’s father, stood up during a reading by Gunter Grass , grabbed the hall microphone, made a confused speech attacking the Church and what he called the establishment, before concluding to boos from the audience: ‘And now, I’d like to salute my comrades from the SS’. He then put a small bottle to his mouth, swallowed the contents, and informed the woman standing next to him: ‘And that, young lady, was cyanide.’ In a book that couldn’t have been written before now, Scheub confronts her father’s past – a candid study of private guilt and a wider assessment of the German psyche from the Second World War onwards. "
Das falsche Leben. Eine Vatersuche(A False Life: In Search of My Father)
Piper Verlag February 2006,
Nazi Germany - newsreel (part 3)
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Nazi Germany - newsreel (part 2)
Nazi Germany - newsreel
"Germany under Hitler - This short video merely provides a glimpse of what's in Nazi Germany, not every bit of it (which is impossible). Whether you are pro-Nazi or anti-Nazi, you may have your own interpretation but that's what really took place at that time. The subtitles merely tell you what's going on in the video. The music comes from the video editing program which was used to produce this video. It's up to your personal taste to like it or not. You should be happy to live at this time, being free to express your own opinion (don't use foul language!)... imagine you were in Germany of 1930s."
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'Tank explosion'. Instalation by James Van Arsdale
A few days later Dima accelerates out of the valley of death, after he’s seen a battlefield near Krasnograd, and he notices a Tiger about 500 metres away with smoke billowing from it.
They’re probably charging their batteries and he alerts Alik who decides to contact Fiodor, as both tanks are designated for one Tiger. He organises machine gunners and snipers to deal with the crew if they attempt to escape.
Larissa is instructed to fire the first round at the tracks, and that should move it forward for a short distance on one track, and it should then turn sideways because of the damaged track. The moment it turns sideways Fiodor’s T 34 will fire at the fuel tank on the side of the Tiger.
Meanwhile Hans Koch has grudgingly got permission from his Commander Helmut Schmidt to relieve himself. He doesn’t like any of his crew leaving the tank, as that’s when they’re most vulnerable, but he allows a morning and evening visit to the toilet. Helmut is obsessed with his loader, and rarely takes his eyes off him, and watches him going towards the bushes. He’s unaware that he is under surveillance from two T 34s that intend to send him on his way to a hellish Inferno filled with everlasting fire.
Hans has just found a comfortable spot in the bushes, when he hears a massive explosion, and sees a blinding flash, which waters his pupils and stings his eyes, and leaves his insides dry, until he’s unable to breathe.
The Tiger rattles and shakes violently, as it twists and turns sideways, leaving its fuel tank exposed, and when it’s hit the second time the hull rocks and trembles making the impotent monster quiver with fearful convulsions.The HE (high explosive) ammunition, which he had stored in the tank that morning, explodes with a vicious vengeance, and creates pressure waves inside the compartments, which blasts the hatches open, causing white hot slivers of steel from the inner walls of the tank to dance and ricochet around the interior, slicing the torched and burnt out crew with permanent disfigurement and mutilation, that will dispatch them to eternity.
The blazing red and orange-yellow flames dance and leap from the exposed hatches, attacking everything in their path and lick the burning, melting, sizzling steel with naked aggression, looking for something to scorch and melt.
The sparks fly and gush from the mouth of the 88 MM cannon with hostile intensity, spitting furious fire on the roasting and bruised Tiger that’s burning uncontrollably with demonic savagery.Steam hisses from the giant engine that’s expired, and small droplets of molten metal drip from the twelve-cylinder Maybach power plant. Hans notices that the ’Serpent’s Head’ Völker is the only one who manages to escape. He crawls towards Hans waving his hand and screaming for help. Hans has his SS dagger ready, as he’s determined to cut the Serpent’s eyes out, and crush his fingers with his boot.
Tanya, one of the Russian snipers, gets a perfect shot between the Serpent’s eyes, and the bullet departs from the back of his ugly head taking a few pieces with it.
Hans is ecstatic for a few seconds and jumps in the air forgetting that his braces are undone, and he collects a bullet in the rear, which throws him forward and the second sniper, Pietya, gets him in the leg.
The T 34 crews are overjoyed, and when they get their 1000 rubles bounty for the kill, they’ll pass it on to the widow and family of one of their dead comrades. Read full post >>
Russian monsters - T 34s
From 'Cross of Iron' - battle sceneRead full post >>
His demonic vision is not spontaneous, but a deliberate plan to unite the people behind him, and give them common goals. This bonding is strengthened by providing them with a common enemy, which includes the Jews, who are responsible for all their ills, and the Bolsheviks, who are a threat to the fatherland’s new political freedom. Many more enemies of the Reich will join this endless list, and accommodation has been thoughtfully prepared for them, as early as 1933 in Dachau, Buchenwald and Sachsenhausen, with fully trained staff on hand.
Hans is nervous. He’s besotted with Victoria and he’s unable to concentrate on anything for the last 3 days. Yesterday he tripped over a suitcase and fell down the stairs, colliding with an elderly lady. She injured her leg and needed medical assistance. The hotel manager was not impressed and Hans was threatened with dismissal.This morning he spent most of his week’s wages on a bouquet of red roses in the hotel’s florist shop. Most of the staff are making jokes about the posh porter behind his back and some of them refer to him as ‘Cockroach Koch’. Hans is trying to work up the courage to ring Victoria and arrange a date for this evening. The problem is that he’s not quite sure what to say.
She’s got successful parents and they live in a luxurious villa surrounded by elm trees. He’s alone and has no one to confide in. He feels like an outcast who belongs to nothing, and seems to be destined to a lifetime journey travelling on a twisted road filled with misery and insecurity. Poor Hans has been an outsider from childhood and he would kill to be an insider. Victoria is too good for him. How will she react if he tells her the truth? He’d prefer not to live a lie in his first relationship. Telling lies about lies is not the way he wants to live. Will she be happy to tell her rich friends that her new boyfriend is a porter? He’s not just a porter, but a porter without parents. He can’t introduce her to his non-existent family. He’s sick of having a permanent identity crisis.
Hans only refuge is a lonely, little attic room, filled with an iron bed with broken springs and a wafer thin mattress, which he shares with the local fly population. He’s joined by two resident mice, which are intent on starting a family. When he looks out his attic window he feels like a trapped pigeon. The peephole doesn’t close properly and he has to stuff the gap with a blanket, which he stole from the hotel. The furniture is complemented with a table that has a gammy leg and an unstable three-legged stool. His room makes an average prison cell look inviting.
Victoria dresses in her finest, and borrows her mother’s sable coat, and takes a taxi to the Adlon.
She goes into the restaurant and approaches the senior waiter.
“Excuse me, please. I’m looking for a Hans Koch. He’s staying in the hotel.”
“Madam, we have someone of that name working here, but you’d have to check at reception to see if they have a guest with that name.”
“The Hans I’m looking for is about 22 years old, approximately 172 to 175 cm tall, stock’ily built, with short blond hair, blue eyes and a fresh complexion.”
“Yes, madam, that’s him. He’s been working here as a porter for the last two years, and I believe that he worked as a farmhand in Oranienburg, before he took up employment here.”
“Many thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”
“It’s been a pleasure, madam. Good day.”This has been Victoria’s darkest day and she’s sick with rage, as she storms into the foyer, where she sees her out of breath spy coming in through the main entrance, hauling a trolley load of suitcases and dressed in a ridiculous looking uniform. He looks like a garden gnome. Poor Hans doesn’t see her until she’s standing in front of him, blocking his path. She clicks her fingers and screams:
“Gepäckträger, Gepäckträger! (porter) I want you to trot outside and collect my luggage, you horrible little man.”
Hans’ face has turned white, as his pathetic little world comes crashing to the ground. He’s unaware that the reception staff and several guests are staring at him.
“Your uniform suits you. Where are your medals? When you’ve collected my luggage, I demand that you polish my boots.”
And with that Victoria marches towards the exit, crashing the doors behind her.
Hans is trembling and grabs a suitcase, and throws it in the direction of the reception desk, and dumps his porter’s jacket on the floor. He heads for the exit like a mad bull, waiting for a chance to kill the first person who gets in his way.
When he gets back to his apartment he throws the rest of his uniform into the incinerator, and goes to the nearest pub to get smashed. Read full post >>
Old & new Nazi propaganda
Other link to similar video: good documentary photos, neo-Nazi song
Terrifying...Read full post >>
Nazi murder mills
The shadow of Ravensbrück
Prisoners of Ravensbrück
by Maria Hiszpanska
Woman who married Jew exposed as a concentration camp guard
By Catherine Elsworth in Los Angeles
A German woman who for more than 60 years kept secret her role as a Nazi concentration camp guard, never telling her Jewish husband, has been deported from America after officials uncovered her past.
Elfriede Rinkel, 84, des-cribed as a "nice, sweet lady" by neighbours in San Francisco, admitted working with an SS-trained attack dog at the Ravensbrück women's labour camp near Furstenberg, where an estimated 90,000 people, many of them Jews, died.
According to the US Department of Justice, Mrs Rinkel was a guard at the camp from June 1944 until it was abandoned by the Nazis in April 1945.More than 10,000 women died during the year Mrs Rinkel worked there, some after being gassed or undergoing medical experiments, others from starvation and disease.
When questioned, Mrs Rinkel, who was not a member of the Nazi party, claimed she never used her dog as a weapon against the prisoners.
She said she had volunteered to be a dog handler because it paid more than her job as a factory worker.
Relatives of Mrs Rinkel, whose late husband was a German Jew who fled the Holocaust, expressed shock at the revelation, which came to light on Tuesday with the release of court documents.
Mrs Rinkel left America on Sept 1, telling friends and family that she was returning to Germany because of problems with her San Francisco flat.
It was not clear how US authorities discovered her past but a Justice Department spokesman said it was routine for investigators to compare guard rosters and other Nazi documents with immigration records. "Concentration camp guards such as Elfriede Rinkel played a vital role in the Nazi regime's horrific mistreatment of innocent victims," said Alice Fisher, a Justice Department lawyer.
"This case reflects the government's unwavering commitment to remove Nazi persecutors from this country."
Officials knocked on Mrs Rinkel's door shortly after her husband, Fred, died in 2004. She admitted her role in the camp and struck an agreement with prosecutors to surrender her green card, move back to Germany and never return to America. She now lives with a sister in Viersen.
Authorities agreed not to release any information about her case until after her departure. Mrs Rinkel, who emigrated to America in 1959, had attended synagogue with her husband and had planned to be buried alongside him in a Jewish cemetery. The couple had no children.
Alison Dixon, her lawyer, said the marriage could "have been a type of atonement for her". She told the San Francisco Chronicle: "My understanding is that she has also contributed to Jewish charities."
Mrs Rinkel is the first woman to be prosecuted by the Justice Department's Office of Special Investigations, formed in 1979.
Daily Telegraph, 20.09.2006Read full post >>
Hitler in action
by posdeapecuniaeRead full post >>
The quickie media researchers
He was interned after the war for two and half years, and was with Keitel’s deputy in the Supreme Command. There were Naval and Luftwaffe officers in the same camp. He believes that their failures started in Dunkirk, when Hitler stopped the panzers against Field Marshal Walther von Brauchitsch’s orders. This interference happened throughout the war up to the end, when the Soviet tank armies were in Berlin.
To understand Tiger tanks and their deployment on the Eastern Front at company or regimental level a good source is ‘Tigers in the mud’ written by Otto Carius. He was a tank commander, and later a Company Commander of ‘Tiger’ tanks on the Eastern Front for several years. He was awarded the Oak Leaves of the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross by Heinrich Himmler in Salzburg at the end of October 1944. The award was normally given by Hitler, but he was indisposed.
Hitler’s hunts and habits are covered by Traudl Junge’s book ‘Until the Final Hour’. She was one of his secretaries for over 3 years, and was in the bunker when he shot himself. It happened after Traudl had her lunch, and when she heard the shot she looked at her watch: it was a few minutes after 1500 hrs on the 30th April 1945.
Traudl’s husband Hans Junge was one of Hitler’s orderlies, and the two witnesses on their wedding were Otto Günsche who was Hitler’s adjutant, and Erich Kempka who was the Führer’s chauffeur and the officer in charge of Hitler’s personal transport section. Both of them threw petrol over the bodies of Hitler and Eva Braun, and Otto Günsche threw a burning rag in the petrol. He told Traudl Junge that Hitler’s skull was badly shattered, as he’d shot himself in the mouth. This is substantiated by Russian sources, including photographic evidence on newsreel and film.
If you want incorrect information there’s a huge choice available. There’s a bunker book written by an ex-Hitler Youth member. There were no schoolboys in the bunker. Another bunker book ‘Inside Hitler’s bunker’ by Joachim Fest says Hitler shot himself at 0330 hours. The bullet main a coin-sized hole in his right temple (I wonder was it a five pence or ten pence coin). Their bodies were burnt using matches and papers to light the petrol. An intelligent person would have used a rag.
The real ‘Schindler’s List’ is written by Elinor Brecher. The book is called ‘Schindler’s Legacy’. It’s written by the survivors of the camp and has little common with Whoopi Goldberg’s fantasy version. His film is fiction, but was sold to the uneducated public as historical truth. Whoopi made sex jokes about the victims of the holocaust. His populism equates to the masses of monkeys, who march into the Tacos of this world thinking that it’s cheap. The directors are smiling all the way to the bank.
There are serious film directors – Roman Liebling Polanski and Martin Scorsese. Whoopi doesn’t belong to this group. His film was softened for the proletariat. In the real world the SS-men grabbed babies from their mothers and held them by the legs, as they smashed their skulls against walls. SS-Untersturmführer (a green-horn Second Lieutenant) used his Great Danes to eviscerate his prisoners (not Whoopi’s German Shepherds).
The Second Lieutenant Amon Goeth was from Vienna and his family run a large publishing company there. He was not hanged in the concentration camp. He was arrested by the Nazis on September 13, 1944 and was charged with engaging in black market activities in the Plaszow Labour Camp and stealing property that had been confiscated from Polish Jews. Due to his diabetes he was not held in jail but in an SS sanatorium in Bad Tölz near Munich where he was arrested by General Patton's troops in 1945 and sent to Poland for prosecution as a war criminal. He went on trial in Krakow on the 24th August 1946 and was hanged on the 13th of September 1946. Some of the survivors in the United States attended the trial. One of them was Margot Schlesinger, who was a prisoner in the Plaszow Camp.
I’m afraid the cosy club of journalists and the rest of the media bandwagon couldn’t see the truth if they fell over it. According to them – for example – Joachim Fest is one of Germany’s most distinguished historians of the Third Reich. It’s strange that he’s not familiar with the 24-hour clock (despite his declared service in the Wehrmacht) and cannot agree with Frau Junge about the time of Hitler’s death (NB.he put his fingers into a screen version of Junge’s memoirs, ‘Downfall’). His position in the eyes of the Anglo-Saxon media seems to have only one reason: Herr Fest was a German journalist, broadcaster and long-term editor of the cultural section with the leftie Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung .
The problem with mafia groups is that they don’t have the correct facts, the arrogant know-alls never check data, and leave their followers walking around in a pool of ignorance.
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Tigers vs. T-34s
Some photos from the Eastern Front.Read full post >>
"Positive side to our work..."
“There is a positive side to the situation, gentlemen. First, we are getting rid of the enemies of the Reich. We supply cheap labour to many of our Reich factories, including producers of military hardware, which gives us an economic advantage over our enemies. Some of our inmates are used for medical experiments in the laboratory, which helps to advance German medical research. Our camp also includes a cinder track, where some of them run around in circles all day, testing the durability of shoe soles. It has the secondary advantage that many die from exhaustion, and if the heat doesn’t get them the extreme cold will. You can’t lose. You can see, gentlemen, that there is a positive side to our work.”
Colonel wishes to scream: Jesus Christ!
There’s a long silence and Hans notices that his comrades are gazing at him, as if they are hypnotized. He’s obviously impressed them and decides to show them some action photos, which he took in the camp after ‘Crystal Night’.
“Gentlemen, I must show you some photos of my work. These are enemies of the Reich that I have personally dispatched. I hope you find them interesting.”
The Colonel has just knocked back another extra large glass of cognac and wishes it was stronger. He takes the photos from Hans and gives some of them to Hermann, who is decidedly under the weather, and has almost emptied the cognac bottle.
“Thank you, Hans. Much appreciated.”
The photos are worse than he expected. The pictures of the hangings are taken at different stages of the process all the way to the victim’s death. Age or sex makes no difference. He feels dirty and sad, because he and many others did nothing to stop this happening. He can’t believe that this is being done in his name, and in the name of his fellow Germans. This monster has probably murdered some of his friends including Jewish ones.
He notices that Hermann is gone to the bathroom, probably to get sick, and he must get some fresh air, as he feels unwell. He’s nervous and afraid in this creature’s company, and does not want to upset him. He can see that the beast is loaded, and his face is lit up like a red traffic light. He gives the photos back to Hans.
“You are a diligent SS-man and a good photographer. I think we should go into the garden for some fresh air.”
Hans jumps to attention and almost takes the Colonel’s eye out, as he raises his right hand in the air, clicks his heels and screams
“Jawohl, SS Standartenführer. Heil Hitler!” Read full post >>
Zee Obersturmführer looked like the classic role model, which most empires would die for. His ‘Heil Hitler’ face showed a cool and determined expression, like he’d been especially poured from an SS test tube for an advertising poster.
The picture had been painstakingly added to with his prominent nose and manly lips, that can spit you into a gas chamber instantly without flinching, to the tune of ‘Sturmstaffel Marschlied’. His ‘Deutschland über Alles’ dimpled, square jawed, jutting chin looked like it was designed to dominate the landscape. If you press a spot on his narrow forehead he’ll scream “Sieg Heil!” and march on Poland, as he roars down the Autobahn in his hysterically large ‘Roll-over-Poland’ Daimler Benz, crushing everything in its path to the tune of ‘Lilly Marlene’ and ‘Vee are zee Ubermenschen’.
Hans would like to be a hero and show off his decorations, but he’s never been put to the test. The only enemies he’s ever shot were wretched, starving, unarmed civilians in an enclosed area with no escape. The thought of meeting an experienced and well tooled up mad, bad Ivan – out of his head on an overdose of vodka or hallucinogenic mushrooms – is a worrying prospect. Read full post >>
The normality outside is surreal, with the tree lined avenue leading up to the entrance, hiding the bazaar madness in the midst of the normality surrounding it, with children playing on their swings and see saws in the nearby gardens, as the villagers go about their everyday business.
Hans is unaware of these oddities, as he has become conditioned to normality and insanity being side by side. He’s pleased that he’s only a ten-minute stroll to the railway station, which will take him to Berlin in about thirty minutes, so he can strut around the capital getting envious looks from the porters, doormen, tram drivers and postmen.
He now has a licence to kill, and intends to use his authority whenever he wishes. He exudes power and senses a feeling of fear and awe from the other male predators, who are afraid to get in his way. The SS have a fearsome reputation and he enjoys every minute of it. He demands and expects respect in large doses, and is determined to make up for his lost years as a nobody.
The days of being a bastard orphan farm boy and a trolley pushing porter are history, and now he represents the right arm of the Third Reich with the might of the SS behind him. He knows that he’s above the law and can kill, torture and execute at will. His days of opening doors are over and he’s welcome in whatever nightclubs he chooses. Crossing Hans is a dangerous practice, as he becomes well connected with the Berlin Gestapo, who have expanded their interrogation. He checks the Totenbuch (death book), which records the details of those who have been executed, and is delighted to find Victoria Snyder and the rest of her family’s names entered in the register.
(L.Hellmann, When the lights went out, 2006) Read full post >>
The groupies’ delight
A whole nation has now become obsessed by a hysterical Austrian provincial with penetrating, flashing eyes, who dances on his podium like a raving epileptic. His flaming eyes dart around, as he gesticulates in a frenzy to his fawning disciples, like an ill mannered baboon. The coarse and repulsive redneck dribbles a continuous torrent of diarrhoea, fuelled with lies, as foam drips from his open mouth and spills onto the gutter, where he came from. This hateful tyrant succeeds in turning millions of people into a race of heel clicking, robotic, ‘Sieg Heil’ slaves. To keep control of this circus the actors are put in fancy dress, and made dance to the music. This is super symbolism at its best, fuelled with a massive overdose of martial music, incessant parades and rallies, decorated with rows of flags, miles of bunting and pictures of the Corporal’s face, staring at you from every lamppost. The range of uniforms is mind-boggling, with almost everyone from rat catchers to vermin exterminators dressed up like Field Marshals. The secret service is exempt, but they have a penchant for long black leather overcoats, which doesn’t make them very secret. This is paradise on earth and a groupies’ delight. Read full post >>
Otto & Maria (2)
Later they sit down to a hearty meal, and he gives them a brief edited outline of his shady past.
“I worked in the Adlon Hotel in Berlin, and because of my age I knew I’d be conscripted for the Wehrmacht. I was young at the time and volunteered for the SS, as I liked their uniform and felt that it had more prestige.”
Otto and Maria are curious.
“What did you do in the SS, Hans?”
“I was given Infantry training at the beginning. I wasn’t a great soldier and worked in the quartermaster’s stores at Lichterfelde Kaserne, Berlin, which is the HQ of the Leibstandarte – SS ‘Adolf Hitler’.”
“Did you fight?”
“Yes, Otto. I was sent to the Eastern Front as a tanker and was injured. I was in hospital for many months, and was detailed to report to a Concentration Camp, as I was no longer fit for service on the front.”
Otto is fascinated with this big world outside of his farm.
“There has been talk in Saarbrücken about Jews being sent to camps, but we’re not sure, Hans.”
“It’s the truth, and they are being exterminated by gas, shootings and starvation. It’s not only Jews. It consists of many different types of people including Gypsies and misfits. I didn’t want to do this, and that’s why I escaped from Berlin and came here. If the authorities catch me I’ll be executed.”
Otto is impressed with Hans’s character.
“I’m glad you did, Hans. I would have done the same. I understand that someone who fights for his country has to kill the enemy, but killing innocent people is evil, and is against God’s law. Whoever breaks that law will pay the price sometime, and if it’s not in this life it will be in the next one.”
“Yes, Otto. I joined the SS to fight for our Fatherland.”
“We’re so proud of you, Hans. We always knew you were brave.”
(L.Hellmann, When the lights went out. 2006)Read full post >>
Otto & Maria
Hans continues with his impersonation act in SS Psychiatric Clinic in Giessen for a few weeks, and gradually shows an improvement in order to gain more freedom. The doctors are pleased with his rapid progress, and allow him to walk around the grounds with the healthier patients. Hans observes all of the staff and patients, and he slowly builds up their confidence in him. He’s punctual and correct, and develops set routines, which they get used to, and - when he catches the right moment - he disappears, and travels by night on a stolen Zündapp KS600 motorcycle to Otto and Maria Koch’s farm in Martinshöhe, which is situated between Saarbrücken and Kaiserslautern. When he arrives in their area he stays in a forest until morning and burns the bike, and hides the remains in the undergrowth.
Otto is working in the vicinity of the barn, when Hans approaches. He’s not sure who the stranger is.
“Good morning. Can I help you?”
“Hello, Otto. How is Maria? I’m Hans Koch from the orphanage in Oranienburg. It was a long time ago. You probably don’t remember me.”
“Of course I do, Hans. Wilkommen (welcome). I’m delighted to see you. Please come over to the house and meet Maria.”
Hans can see that they’re a lot older looking now. Otto’s face is wrinkled, and his hair has turned grey, but he still has the sparkle in his eyes. Maria is robust looking, and still has her warm welcoming smile. He feels happy and sad, and knows that they’re his only connection to his childhood, and part of his identity. That’s all he’s got.
“I’m delighted to see both of you. You bring back many happy memories for me. I wish I could turn the clock back. I’ve so much to tell you, but I don’t know where to start.”
Otto and Maria notice his dishevelled look, and are curious about his life since they last met over 20 years ago.
“Don’t worry, Hans. We’ve got all the time in the world, but first we’ll get you something to eat and organise a clean bed for you to lie on.”
Hans can see that they are kind, simple people, who live in their own uncomplicated world, and would never harm anyone. He feels ashamed, and knows that they’re too good for him.
“You’re the kindest people I’ve ever known. I’d forgotten that people like you still exist in this savage world. Maybe there’s still hope for civilisation.”
“Don’t mention it, Hans. What’s the point in living if you can’t help someone? That’s what life is for.”
Hans is embarrassed with their deep Christian values, and doesn’t want to infect them with his evil. He gives himself a much-needed scrub, and changes into some of Otto’s fresh clothes.
(to be continued) Read full post >>