Legacy of Sorrows

by Roberto Buonaccorsi

  Kuller was approached in his cell soon after by one of the guards who had taken part in the beating. He said to him, ‘Kuller, I don’t know if what they say about you is true, but I know your past history in the SS. I’m a married man with a family and I don’t want an accident happening to me.’ As a final retort he added, ‘I also served in the military and, like you, was also an infantry soldier at Stalingrad.’ Kuller studied him for a moment in silence before saying to him,’ ‘What you did to me was out of loyalty to a comrade. Misplaced loyalty to a Jew over a German, but you still showed commendable loyalty. I would have done the same as you did. Don’t worry about any accidents happening to you.’ The guards thanked him and was about to leave when Kuller added, ‘Tell your other friends that I also respect their loyalty in this affair, but to never again choose a Jew over a German, especially one who has served his country.’

  Kuller spent the rest of his sentence being respected as a man not to be trifled with by prisoners and guards alike, and he never had any further problems.

  He was released in 1981 and immediately returned home to be with his family. His wife, who wasn’t sure what to expect from her returning spouse, was greeted by a slap round the head for not having a meal ready and waiting for him, and so life returned to what passed for normality in the Kuller household.

  At the next meeting of the Old Comrades Association, Kuller was treated as a celebrity who had upheld the values that they all espoused. He was asked to give an impromptu speech to the gathering which he readily did.

  ‘Dear comrades, the honour you give me is indeed touching. You all know that because of the Jewish menace, we now find ourselves with a divided country and Bolshevism living next door to us. Let us not forget what our Führer taught us, the values of purity of race, obedience and honour. It is our sacred duty to re-educate the German people in this and to remain faithful to our oath.’

  The room erupted with wild cheering and hand-clapping. Former SS soldiers thumped the tables and impromptu singing broke out. Kuller felt elated as the words of the Horst-Wessel-Lied rose up all around him. As he gave the Nazi salute, tears filled his eyes as his comrades followed his example.

  Sometime later in 1984, as he was driving in Munich with Gertrude sitting beside him, he was involved in an accident when another car came speeding out of a side street and crashed into the side of his vehicle. Thankfully, no one was injured. Kuller got out of his car and approached the other driver, who by this time was inspecting the damage to the vehicles. The driver was very apologetic to Kuller, ‘I am so sorry, sir. It is my fault entirely, please accept my apology.’ This seemed to pacify Kuller until it came to exchanging insurance details. Kuller looked at the man’s name in amazement, ‘Your name is Goldman. Are you Jewish?’

  Herr Goldman, not knowing the fury that was about to fall on him answered, ‘Yes I am. Is that a problem?’

  ‘Problem, problem,’ roared Kuller, as he stepped forward and punched Herr Goldman in the face with such ferocity that he was knocked to the ground. As Goldman tried to get up Kuller kicked him repeatedly in the face, on his body, anywhere he could. Gertrude tried to stop him but Kuller slapped her round the face a few times, knocking her to the ground as well.

  He began shouting out as the blows rained down on Goldman, ‘There was a time when we could treat Jewish scum like you anyway we wanted.’

  Eventually he stopped. A crowd had gathered on the pavement watching with amazement what had happened. Kuller helped his wife to her feet and they walked away towards their car. They drove off without another word. When the police arrived, Mr Goldman couldn’t tell them who his assailant was, as he had no idea of his name. In the small crowd that had gathered, apparently, no one had thought to take down Kuller’s licence number. Even though Kuller had lived in the area with his wife for many years, no one admitted to recognising him. The description given of a tall blonde man could have fitted a high percentage of the German male population in the town, so Kuller was not traced. He realised that the damage to his car was a giveaway, so he visited an auto-body shop belonging to a former comrade and the car was repaired with no record of the work being done and no questions asked.

  When the police, on a routine enquiry, asked the owner of the auto-body shop if he knew anything about a damaged black Volkswagen Beetle, he just shrugged his shoulders and said no.

  Herr Goldman was in hospital for some time with a fractured jaw, broken limbs and ribs. However, the greatest damage done to him was that once again he had become frightened to walk German streets as a Jew.

  Kuller first heard the news that Walter Reder could possibly be released from his Italian prison from someone at the Old Comrades meeting. Apparently, Reder had apologised to the Italian Government through an open letter. Kuller laughed at this and called it nonsense, a mere ruse by Reder to help him in his campaign for release.

  He wrote to Reder congratulating him on his expected release and to ask him if he would when freed be the guest speaker at a reunion dinner of the 16th Waffen SS Old Comrades Association, which would be held in his honour in his home city of Vienna. Reder answered that he would be delighted to, and also that he was pleased to hear from others that sergeant Hans Kuller was still being faithful to his SS oath. Kuller laughed. I knew that Walter Reder could not change. Even after all these years of imprisonment, this man of steel is still the same. His beliefs have not diminished and the flame of National Socialism still burns true in his heart.

  In 1985, the news that Kuller was waiting for arrived. It was announced in the German press that Walter Reder was to be released within the next few weeks. Kuller was overjoyed with this news. He even took Gertrude out for a meal to celebrate, much to her surprise. He contacted as many of his closest ex-SS comrades as he could and organised a party to celebrate Reder’s release and to plan a reception in his honour in Vienna. He even contacted the Austrian Defence minister Herr Frischenschlager to tell him that the last Austrian prisoner of war, incarcerated in an Italian jail, was about to be released after thirty-four years. Herr Frischenschlager, who had been completely unaware of Reder, or his imprisonment up to this point, promised to meet him with full military honours on his arrival at the airport. His office even informed the Austrian television stations of the event in order to get the greatest publicity. The minister saw this as the dawn of a new era for Austria. The past forgotten and the future lying wide open. The only thing missing in all of this hype was that Kuller conveniently forgot to mention to the minister that Reder was not a prisoner of war but was in fact a convicted war criminal who had been sentenced to life imprisonment in a military court in Siena for the massacre of Italian civilians on Monte Sole and Sant’ Anna di Stazzema.

  Finally, the big day arrived. The Defence minister was in attendance with a military band. The television cameras of Austria’s three television stations were ready and waiting for Reder’s plane to appear. The ranks of newspaper journalists were waiting to hear from Reder’s own lips, the returning war hero, how it felt to be free again.

  At last the plane landed and the official delegation, comprising of the Minister of Defence, the Mayor of Munich, the Colonel of Police and the local military Commander all lined up to meet their guest of honour. To the side of the runway, Kuller and his Old Comrades Association stood to attention to receive their distinguished and beloved leader.

  The moment Reder appeared at the head of the steps that were covered in red carpet to suit the occasion, the band struck up the Austrian national anthem. Herr Frischenschlager stepped forward to shake Reder’s hand and introduced him to the assembled dignitaries, who then followed on behind as Reder inspected his Old Comrades honour guard.

  Kuller face was beaming as Reder approached him and warmly shook his hand before embracing him. The television cameras mounted on their mobile platforms captured every word and every moment and transmitted it throughout Austria to the delight of the population. There was even a link-up with RAI Italian television for their early evening n
ews bulletin. Reder was still big news. Even more so now that he had been accepted by the Austrian establishment in the person of the Minister of Defence as a returning war hero. The Catholic Church even presented him with a hunting lodge in the Austrian Alps as a temporary home until he was settled, and it wasn’t too long before the Austrian government, on behalf of the Austrian people, gifted him a home of his own. It is interesting to note that it was around this time that Reder rescinded the letter of apology he had written to the municipality of Marzabotto and to the Italian people in general, stating that as a soldier, he had merely done his duty and followed orders, therefore he felt no guilt or remorse.

  The feelings of outrage and disbelief in Italy at Reder’s rehabilitation and integration into Austrian society sounded loud and clear in the Italian media. It was universally condemned as unprecedented and dangerous for a tried and convicted war criminal to be feted by the Austrian government, people, and media in such an outward display of affection. It was an insult to the Italian people and to the memory of those slain.

  Vatican sources in Rome and the hierarchy of the Catholic Church in Italy and Austria then went into overdrive and were instrumental in bringing to an end the ill feelings generated by the Austrian government’s actions.

  Chapter 9

  Iwas sitting at home with my family and had just finished eating my evening meal and was enjoying my after dinner espresso. I called out to Moreno, ‘Would you switch on the evening news, please.’ Moreno picked up the remote control and the screen came to life. It was filled with a newsreader presenting the news of Reder’s release and his reception at the airport. The picture then changed from the newsreader in the studio to the airport runway at Vienna.

  I sat in shock and watched the screen in silence. Maria came in from the kitchen and sat beside me, holding my hand. Moreno turned the sound up.

  The presenter on the ground was describing the scene as Reder inspected his honour guard. I froze as I recognised Kuller shaking his hand and embracing him.

  ‘It’s him, Kuller.’ I stood and shouted out aloud. Moreno reached over to the cassette recorder and turned it on to record the events so we could watch it later. ‘He’s a little fatter and his hair is greyer, but that is Kuller.’

  I stopped talking to take in the scene in front of me. The presenter was interviewing Reder on the runway before he left with his friends.

  ‘I understand that your Old Comrades Association is arranging a special reception for you, Herr Reder.’

  ‘Yes they are. It’s on Friday night at the Hotel Bristol and I understand that most of my old comrades in arms will be there. I am looking forward to that.’

  ‘What does it feel like to return to your homeland as a war hero so many years after the war ended?’

  ‘I served my country and did my duty to the best of my ability and the honours I was presented with then are still relevant today in my eyes.’

  In the background, the honour guard was being dismissed and some of them were heading over to where Reder was. I watched transfixed as Kuller appeared over Reder’s shoulder. Reder looked round and saw them, then said to the TV presenter, ‘These were my men. They served with me in battle.’ He pointed to Kuller ‘This man was my sergeant, Hans Kuller. He also served the Fatherland and did his duty as required.’

  The screen changed back to the TV studio and the newsreader with a different news item.

  Moreno looked at me, waiting for some reaction from me on seeing Kuller. I was very quiet. He’s too quiet for his own good. I wonder what he’s thinking of.

  I got up from my seat and reached for my jacket. Without a word, I put it on and left the house. I drove around the city for a while before I eventually stopped outside the hotel where Italo worked. When I walked in, I saw Italo standing at the main doors to the kitchen looking thoughtful. I wondered if he had seen the news bulletin as well.

  ‘Italo, did you see it?’ Italo looked at me for a few moments before saying, ‘We have to talk, Bruno. I’ll take my break now and we can go for a coffee down the street.’ We walked along together in silence, both of us thinking the same thing, both planning things in our minds. Every so often, our eyes would meet and we both knew.

  We sat at a corner table and drank our coffee in silence until I said. ‘Can you get the time off. The reception is being held in two days’ time so we would only need three days to do it.’

  Italo nodded. ‘You would need to phone in sick for those days, Bruno. We can come up with a definitive plan as we travel to Vienna.’

  I asked, ‘Do you still have your gun?

  Italo nodded. ‘Do you still have yours, Bruno?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve kept it in good condition just in case I ever found out where Kuller was.’ I pulled out a railway timetable from my pocket and put it on the table. ‘I picked this up last week. It shows a train leaving early tomorrow morning, and with a change in Austria, it arrives in Vienna at three in the afternoon. Kuller will probably have a room booked at the hotel Bristol where the reception is being held. We can also book a room there by phone or we can hit him before or after the event then leave. What do you think Italo?’

  Italo thought for a moment or two. ‘It sounds all right to me, except how do we know Kuller will not be sharing a room with someone else?’

  ‘We don’t. We can ask at the hotel reception what the situation is and change our plan to suit. I’ll also tell Maria that we are going fishing for a few days up north. She probably won’t believe me, but what can she prove?’

  ‘Have you thought Bruno how we are going to kill him?’

  ‘I have a plan forming in my mind. I’ll share it later once I’ve thought it through myself. In the meantime, I think it’s better if I go home now, as Maria will be worried about me after seeing the news. I’ll see you at the train station tomorrow morning. Oh, by the way, I nearly forgot. We better get dressed as if we are going to the reception. We don’t want to stand out from the rest, do we?’

  The two friends stood and embraced each other. Italo looked searchingly at me before saying, ‘I know you lost everything on Monte Sole, but I also lost many comrades and people I knew as friends. Don’t think you can’t trust me to see this through.’ I nodded, ‘I trust, you my friend. This has been a long time coming and no matter how it turns out, I know we will see it through together.’ We embraced once more and then parted.

  When I returned home, I was met by an anxious wife and son. ‘Where have you been?’ said Maria.

  ‘Just driving around trying to get my head straight. I passed by the hotel, saw Italo and arranged a fishing trip over the next couple of days. I think it will do me good just to get away from all this.’

  ‘Are you planning something stupid Bruno, like going to Vienna and killing Kuller?’

  I looked her in the eye and said, ‘It did cross my mind, but what would it achieve now, after all these years?’

  ‘Promise me on your mother’s grave you are not planning something against him.’

  I gave a sigh. ‘I promise you on my mother’s grave I will not go to Vienna to kill him or anyone else. I just want to get away from all of this for a few days with my best friend.’

  This seemed to satisfy Maria. She kissed me on the lips and said, ‘I know you won’t break that promise, Bruno. I think a fishing trip is just the thing you need.’ She left the room a lot happier than before. I turned to Moreno, who all this time had been studying me. ‘What’s wrong, son?’

  Moreno said, ‘I know you too well dad, you’re going to Vienna to kill him and I want to be there when you do it. I won’t say to mum, but I want to go with you.’

  ‘Moreno, I won’t try to fool you. We leave for Vienna tomorrow morning; however, it is impossible to take you with me.’

  Moreno scowled, ‘Tell me why.’

  ‘I need you here to look after your mother in case I don’t return. Anyway, you haven’t been involved in anything like this before and I can’t take the risk of Kuller getting to you first. He�
�s killed enough of my family. This man is a brute, and it will take brutish methods to kill him. He can smell danger.’

  Maria came back into the room, saw us both in deep conversation, and asked, ‘What are you two talking about?’

  ‘I’m trying to convince dad to let me go with him fishing but he said no. He wants to be alone with Italo.’ He made a “I know something” face and laughed.

  I smiled at him and mouthed ‘Thank you’.

  The train proved to be quite crowded that morning. Italo and I moved along the carriages until we found two aisle seats beside each other. With people all around us, it was impossible to discuss anything about our mission. I said to Italo, ‘Let’s just spend the time thinking of what’s ahead of us and we’ll discuss it later.’ He agreed.

  I settled down for the long trip and began to focus on Kuller.

  He will probably be in the company of around one hundred ex-SS comrades. Men who have lived and fought together over a number of years. We are going to walk into the hotel, kill Kuller and leave again without being noticed. Apart from that, we don’t have any idea yet on how to do it. I shook my head in disbelief at this and looking round I caught Italo smiling at me. ‘Not so easy Bruno, eh?’ I smiled back at him.

  Our journey was in two parts, as we had to change trains for Vienna once we arrived in Austria. It was around 4pm, later than expected due to maintenance work on the line, when our train pulled into Wien Westbahnhof railway station, the magnificent heart of the Austrian railway system built on two levels. We used the integrated underground system to make our way to Karntner Ring where the hotel Bristol was situated near the State Opera House. In any other circumstances, it would have been a treat to go to the opera together. We were both lovers of Puccini and that night La Bohème was being performed.

  We had agreed beforehand that because we didn’t know what to expect inside the hotel, it wasn’t possible to come up with a definite plan of action, so we would just have to react to whatever we saw inside or to any situation that developed. One thing in our favour was that neither Kuller, Reder, nor any of the Old Comrade’s Association knew us by sight or by name.