The Austrian: A War Criminal's Story

by Ellie Midwood

  He seemed puzzled at my reaction. “You find something amusing about that testimony?”

  “Why yes, quite amusing. It appears that Herr Schellenberg involuntarily solved the puzzle that was bothering your lot, the psychiatrists I mean, for quite a while. Obviously, my lack of appetite can be explained very easily – I can’t eat without watching someone getting shot. Maybe we can organize something on the opposite wall, a little sheet spread out maybe, so I could again enjoy private screenings while I eat? Seeing people die really boosts my appetite, according to Herr Schellenberg.”

  Dr. Goldensohn drew his brows together as the interpreter translated my words. “Are you being sarcastic, Mr. Kaltenbrunner?”

  “What do you think, doctor?” I folded my arms on my chest.

  “You’re saying he was lying about the movies?”

  “I’m saying he was lying about the luncheons to begin with. Doctor, Müller and I… how do I put it? Weren’t too fond of each other. He didn’t think much of my mental abilities, and I didn’t think much of his. Now you tell me, why would I share a lunch – at least twice a week – with a man, who I detested?”

  The American psychiatrist observed me quietly for some time, and then finally muttered, as he began standing up, “I don’t really know what to think of you, Mr. Kaltenbrunner. Your behavior together with your words is still a mystery to me.”

  _______________

  Berlin, January 1939

  “You know, your words are a mystery to me!”

  “I don’t care what you say! I love Berlin!” Melita laughed and playfully kicked fluffy, freshly-fallen snow at my feet. I jestingly pushed her off in return. I had just given her a ride home after a dinner she had invited me to considering I was in Berlin, and she confessed on the phone that she missed me, after having to move to the capital permanently.

  “I will never like it in here. I’m Austrian, and to me there is no better place than home. Besides, most of the Berliners are of Prussian descend, and you know how fond I am of those. Just think of Heydrich.”

  Melita chuckled, taking my hand again. “Are you two fighting over something again?”

  “Not anymore, we’re not. Now that we are of the same rank, he can’t say a word to me.”

  “You’ve done pretty well in just one year, haven’t you?”

  “What can I say? Not only am I extremely handsome, I’m also highly intelligent.” I winked at her.

  “And you quite obviously don’t suffer from some kind of inferiority complex, judging by what I just heard,” Melita concluded, giggling.

  “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  “No?”

  “Not with your new job position, no.”

  “What, you have something against the T4 program?” Melita theatrically squinted her eyes at me.

  “I don’t know much about the program, because you aren’t telling me anything.”

  “I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone.”

  “I solemnly swear.” I even rose my hand in the air, smiling.

  “Not even your best buddy Otto!”

  “Why don’t you just cut my tongue out right away?”

  Melita gave me a dirty look, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine, not even Otto. Spill it out, what is it you’re doing in your big guarded medical facility that even I, SS Gruppenführer, don’t have access to?”

  “It’s not that secretive, really. Well, not on my part at least. There are parts of the facility that even I can’t go into without a special pass. As for my job, I and several other psychiatrists evaluate patients to decide if they’re suitable subjects for the new executive action. The euthanasia program. You have heard of it probably, when in 1935 one man, a father of a newly born disfigured child, wrote a letter to the Führer, asking him to put the child down. The Führer accepted his request, and that’s what started our department’s sphere of activity. We evaluate mental patients from different hospitals and try to bring their number down to a minimum, so to say. It’s quite a fair procedure if you ask me, because it takes three independent doctors, who aren’t acquainted with the patient in question, nor with each other, to give their consent for the euthanasia of that patient. If all three doctors sign ‘yes’ on the medical record, the patient gets peacefully put to sleep. The same goes with the newborns who suffer from Down syndrome or similar incurable diseases. Most of the time the parents of those children receive an order for sterilization as well.”

  “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  “Not at all, if you think about the whole picture. We want to breed the healthiest, most superior nation, like the ancient Spartans did. If the newborn child didn’t meet their requirements after a thorough inspection, they would throw him off the cliff. We aren’t that barbaric of course, but we do want the same results: a perfectly healthy generation that will pass only good genes to their children. And that’s the reason for the sterilization of the people who possess unwanted genetic traits: mental sicknesses, deafness, or muteness; anything that we don’t want to see in future generations. That’s why the healthy Aryans are required to marry only other healthy Aryans. That’s why your children are healthy,” she concluded with a smile.

  “I guess,” I replied pensively. “But still, all that is known to the public. What is all the secrecy about then?”

  “Not even Otto,” Melita reminded me once again.

  “Right, right, not even Otto.”

  “We’re currently testing a new facility for mass euthanasia,” she finally said in a barely audible voice, after a pause, and after looking around, just in case.

  I looked around too, not even sure why. “And what the hell is that?”

  She thought about it for a moment, as if deciding whether she should continue or not. “It would be a special chamber, which is constructed in such a way that it resembles a regular shower room. Only instead of water, the exhaust pipe is connected to the showers.”

  Melita stopped and looked at me, while I was trying to make sense out of what she just said.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand anything,” I confessed at last. “Why would you connect the exhaust pipe to the showers?”

  “Well, let’s say you have a hundred patients scheduled for euthanasia, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And now imagine that you have to drive around the city with a syringe, because only qualified doctors are allowed to do the procedure, and then file all the needed paperwork. And that’s only in Berlin. So, we came up with an idea of how to do our work more efficiently and in one place. We take all these people, bring them to our facility, put them in the ‘shower room’ so as not to cause the panic, lock the door and… turn the exhaust pipe on.”

  This time I stopped and looked at Melita.

  “I’m sorry, but from my limited knowledge of human anatomy, it doesn’t seem like a quick, peaceful and humane death to me.”

  “You’re right, it isn’t at this point.” Melita averted her eyes. “It takes them over an hour to die, and they bang the doors and scream… well, that’s why the access to the facility is restricted. Until we find a better way, our superiors don’t want anybody to know about the tests. That’s why I told you to keep quiet about it. If someone finds out that I told you, we’re both dead.”

  “And who would be those superiors, who came up with such a ‘brilliant’ idea?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  I kept staring at her intently until she finally gave up.

  “It was the Führer’s order, but the executive action is under the direct supervision of Reichsführer SS and the chief of the RSHA.”

  “Himmler and Heydrich.” I smirked and shook my head. “I should have guessed.”

  We finally stopped at the front gates of Melita’s new townhouse.

  “Nice place you have here.” I decided to switch the topic.

  “My position is paid very well.” We stood silently for some time, until she pushed the gates op
en. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Thank you for invitation, but I have a date with a bottle at home after what I just heard.” I tried to joke. Melita offered me an apologetic smile.

  “I know it all sounds disgusting. I was only present during the test once, and… you’re right, it is an absolutely horrifying experience. But we’ll come up with something better soon.”

  “A better way to kill people?” I arched my brow at her.

  “To euthanize them.”

  “No.” I laughed. “No, no, no, that is not peaceful euthanasia we’re talking about anymore. I understand the concept behind the whole program, and on some level, I agree with it. If I, let’s say, get into a car accident and become paralyzed from the neck down, I would ask for a euthanizing shot myself. But, if you decide to drag me into a room with a hundred more people and start slowly gassing me with exhaust fumes, that’s a little different, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I absolutely agree with you. But I have no say in anything. I’m just a psychiatrist, who happens to be a member of the Party, Ernst. I only do as I’m told. It was not my idea.”

  “I understand.”

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “No.” I brushed her cheek with my fingers. “You’re the love of my life, and I will never be upset with you.”

  “I’m not the love of your life.” She laughed at last, and I was glad that I could cheer her up a little. She didn’t seem to be too overjoyed with these new responsibilities of hers. And who knew, if not me, that she didn’t have much of a choice but to do what she was told to.

  “You’re the next closest thing.”

  “Well, then your life is pretty sad, and I feel sorry for you.”

  “Thank you. Now if you don’t mind I’ll get my old bones back to my car and will try to put myself to sleep with alcohol.”

  “You should find yourself a girl,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

  “What is it with everyone telling me to find myself a girl?!” I exclaimed in fake indignation and waved Melita goodbye. “I have too many of them. Maybe I should lose a few.”

  “The real girl,” she yelled at my back, and I only shook my head, laughing, and walked back to my car.

  Deep in my thoughts about Heydrich and his new invention on my way back to my hotel, I barely noticed the quickly approaching headlights of another car, which stopped within a couple of feet from mine at the intersection. Still clasping the wheel with both hands after I had to jam on the breaks, I took a deep breath, begging myself to stay calm and not to murder the idiot, who had almost crashed into me, and got out of the car.

  The idiot meanwhile jumped out of his car and saluted me, even though I was dressed in a civilian suit. I reached for my cigarette case and lit one, looking the young guy over. He was someone’s adjutant or a driver, I guessed, judging by his uniform and the fact that he knew to give me a military salute. He had already seen me somewhere.

  My guess was confirmed after his chief appeared from the back seat, quickly rearranging his disheveled uniform. Well, at least someone got drunk earlier than me tonight.

  “Heil Hitler, Herr Gruppenführer!”

  Drunk or not, he greeted me loud and clear and froze at attention. He looks familiar, I thought, studying his face.

  “SD Standartenführer Friedmann, we met at the Party meeting several months ago,” he introduced himself.

  Ah, SD. One of Heydrich’s people.

  “Yes, yes, I remember.” Normally I had no desire to exchange pleasantries with any of Heydrich’s minions, but this time I decided to offer him my hand. He shook it firmly. “Standartenführer, can’t you find a driver who can actually drive?”

  “Allow me to apologize for this moron, Herr Gruppenführer. He’s actually a very good driver… when he looks at the road.”

  Friedmann shot a glare at his adjutant, and the latter lowered his head even more.

  “And what the hell happened to your uniform, Friedmann?”

  “Nothing, Herr Gruppenführer.” He grinned with embarrassment as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “It’s my wedding today, and my wife… took care of it.”

  “A wedding? Congratulations!” I shook his hand again and patted his shoulder, wondering at the same time how he had managed to stay single for so long. He was of my age, so it was very curious that Reichsführer Himmler didn’t get to him earlier, especially taking into consideration that Friedmann worked right here in Berlin, right under his nose. “So where is the new Frau Friedmann?”

  He beamed at me at the mention of his wife’s name and rushed to get her out of the car. I took another drag on my cigarette and got rid of it, minding my manners before Friedmann’s new spouse. I couldn’t see her yet, as her husband was holding his hand out to help her out of the car. And then he turned back to me and with a smile led his bride to me.

  She was much younger than I expected her to be, barely twenty or even younger, I thought, drinking in the mesmerizing beauty of her face, fresh like a rose. She blushed slightly under my straightforward gaze but didn’t turn away her eyes, which were blue like an Austrian sky on a cloudless summer day. She was looking at me with barely masked curiosity, like only children can, studying your very soul without any shame or pretense. She was like a picture that had come to life by some miracle, an angel caught on canvas by a lucky artist, a fairy tale creature in her white dress, with white flowers in blond hair, gracefully crowning her pretty head, in the middle of the white snow, shining in the moonlight.

  “Here she is, Herr Gruppenführer,” Friedmann announced with obvious pride in his voice, reminding me of his existence. “Annalise Friedmann, my wife.”

  I was staring at her without uttering a word until her husband turned to her again. “Annalise, meet SS Gruppenführer Dr. Kaltenbrunner.”

  “Nice to meet you, Herr Gruppenführer.”

  She extended her arm to me and I took it carefully in mine, shaking hands with the woman who was going to change my whole life soon, and would be the reason for my death.

  Note to the reader

  All the characters, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional. The character of Ernst Kaltenbrunner, even though based on a real political figure, is also fictional. Some major facts, taken from the biography of the real Ernst Kaltenbrunner, are based on real events, however, they were also fictionalized by the author.

  Short biography of the real Ernst Kaltenbrunner, who served as a prototype for the fictional character:

  Ernst Kaltenbrunner (4 October 1903 – 16 October 1946) was an Austrian born senior official of Nazi Germany during World War II. An Obergruppenführer (general) in the Schutzstaffel (SS), between January 1943 and May 1945, he held the offices of the Chief of the Reichssicherheitshauptamt (RSHA, or Reich Main Security Office) and President of the ICPC, later to become Interpol. He was the highest-ranking member of the SS to face trial at the first Nuremberg Trials. He was found guilty of war crimes and crimes against humanity and executed.

  Most of the historical events, mentioned in the book, are real, like the Night of the Long Knives, the assassination of the Austrian chancellor Engelbert Dollfuss, the Anschluss of Austria and the euthanasia program. Also, Dr. Höttl’s affidavit, read out on the Nuremberg process, where Ernst Kaltenbrunner was tried, is a real document, not changed by the author.

  Thank you for reading “The Austrian.” I hope you enjoyed it! If you liked the story, the author and all the people who worked on the book will really appreciate it if you leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.

  Feel free to connect with the author on Facebook and ask any other questions you may have left after reading “The Austrian.” I will be more than happy to answer all of them.

  https://www.facebook.com/Ellie-Midwood-651390641631204/?ref=hl

  “The Austrian” Book 2 is coming soon.

  If you want to hear the story of the mysterious Annalise, here are the links to “The Girl From Berlin” series:

  “The Girl F
rom Berlin: Standartenführer’s Wife” (book 1)

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015BNZWNK

  “The Girl From Berlin: Gruppenführer’s Mistress” (book 2)

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B016FTEU14

  “The Girl From Berlin: War Criminal’s Widow” (book 3)

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B018L3WM6C