The Traitors of Camp 133

by Wayne Arthurson

  “You forgot asshole.”

  “You’re only an asshole when times call for an asshole. You forget that I’ve seen you in action. You listen to your men when they’ve got something to say, take their opinions when you think they matter. And while I’ve seen you berate your men when they’ve done something stupid, you only do it because you worry about them losing their lives. I only do it when they fuck up the music. Koenig, he doesn’t care about his men. He only cares about power.”

  “Well, let’s see what happens when we meet.” Neumann started to walk away, but Liszt grabbed his forearm, holding him back for a second.

  “Approach from where he can see you coming. All that time in a steel tube playing cat and mouse makes submariners a jumpy, nervous lot.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Neumann said with a nod. And when the conductor let go of his arm, he resumed his walk. “Just watch me.”

  “Yes, I’ll be watching,” Liszt the conductor said. “And I’ll be here if you need backup.”

  Neumann waved his right hand at the comment but didn’t turn around. “I won’t need backup.”

  Liszt chuckled. “But I’ll be here anyway,” he said to himself.

  9.

  Sergeant Neumann approached the submarine commander the way Liszt recommended, angling in from the side so that Koenig could see him approach from a good distance away. It was less of a precaution for Neumann and more of a pre-interrogation tactic: show the subject that someone is coming for them, but move towards them slowly so they won’t be too startled.

  Koenig saw Neumann approaching out of the corner of his eye. At once, he wrapped up the close order drill and brought the group of submariners to a full stop, standing strictly at attention in a complete square.

  Koenig spun quickly, snapping his heels together.

  “Sergeant Neumann,” he barked, giving a quick nod.

  Neumann returned the nod with a Wehrmacht salute. “Captain Koenig.”

  Koenig glanced at Neumann’s salute, raised his eyebrows, and then raised his right arm in the Nazi salute. “Heil Hitler,” he barked.

  “Heil Hitler,” Neumann barked back, his right arm raised only slightly.

  “A bit of a surprise to see you here, Sergeant Neumann,” Koenig said, lowering his arm.

  “Oh, wherever my work takes me is wherever I go.”

  “So your work takes you here. To me.” Koenig’s tone was formal and a bit dismissive, like an aristocrat talking down to one of his servants.

  “Yes, to you I have come. Begging your pardon, Captain, but there has been an incident and I have come to you to see if you would answer a few of my questions.”

  “An incident. With one of my men, I hope not,” he said, sending a glance to his group, all of whom were still frozen at attention.

  “That has yet to be determined. However, if you please, Captain, my questions?”

  “Yes, of course. If the Head of Civil Security has a few questions for me, it behooves me to answer them.”

  Neumann stepped away from the ranks of submariners in order to speak more privately. Koenig waited for a moment, and then followed him.

  “Thank you, Captain, that is much appreciated,” Neumann said in a much quieter voice. And though Koenig outranked him, Neumann’s tone was insistent. The implication was clear: he was not officially under Koenig’s command and wanted to ensure the captain understood that. But Neumann knew that one had to be subtle about such matters.

  Neumann paused, looking Koenig in the eyes, and then moved back one step. “I am unfortunately the one to tell you the news that Captain Mueller is dead.”

  “Mueller?” said Koenig, taken aback only slightly. “The Communist? The one who teaches some of the more gullible and naive boys about the ways of Marx and Lenin?”

  “Well, mostly I think it was mathematics and science.”

  “Yes, he did teach them that, but I’ve heard that was only a ruse and behind all that mathematics and science he was teaching them about the equality of men, which quite frankly is Communism propaganda.”

  “Be that as it may, he is dead.”

  “Hmm. Natural causes?”

  “If it was natural causes, I would not be here talking to you. Based on my experience, Mueller was murdered.”

  Koenig blinked twice and then let out a quick exhalation. “That’s very interesting.”

  Neumann paused and looked the captain. “Yes, it is very interesting,” he said slowly. “But I find it even more so when that’s your reaction. I thought the fact that a German soldier has been murdered would cause you to a react with shock, dismay, or maybe even outrage.”

  “Well, I’ve seen my share of death in this way, Sergeant Neumann—one more isn’t going to shock me.”

  “Yes, maybe in battle, but we aren’t in battle. We’re almost as far away from the war as we can be. So the fact that one German soldier seems to have been murdered by another should be shocking.”

  “Are you sure it was another German who did this? Maybe the Canadians did it.”

  “I find that very hard to believe.”

  “Why?” Koenig said, stepping to the side and waving his hand. When he did, a submariner stepped out of formation and made his way towards the two. Neumann seemed unaware of the situation. “In my opinion, Mueller was a Bolshie and probably in league with the Canadians to convince some of our young soldiers that fighting for the Führer is a lost cause. But they had a falling out, or he refused to do their work anymore, so they killed him.”

  “That theory is hard to believe.”

  “So is your theory that a German soldier did it.”

  “Well if some German soldiers thought he was a Bolshevik and was teaching our boys propaganda, as you suggest,” Neumann stepped again into Koenig’s personal space, “then they would consider him a traitor and deal with him in the manner suitable for a traitor.”

  Koenig was unperturbed by Neumann’s close proximity and in fact leaned closer, shifting his weight on his feet instead of stepping forward. “Are you intimating that me and my men were involved in Mueller’s murder, Sergeant Neumann?” he asked.

  “Intimate that you and your men are responsible for Mueller’s murder? I would do nothing of the sort,” Neumann said with a wry smile. “Since you and your men have a history of dealing with so-called traitors in your own way, I am asking you outright if you and your men had anything to do with Mueller’s murder.”

  “Those men were traitors and as such deserved what they got.”

  “And who determined they were traitors? You?”

  “Of course it was me, since I was the most senior officer in the camp at the time.”

  “Did you conduct a formal hearing on this? Did you hear evidence on what each condemned man’s actual crime was or did you just go by the word of someone you liked? Or someone who said what you wanted to hear?”

  “We’re at war, Sergeant; there is no time to hold hearings. Command decisions have to be made and those in command have to make them. I determined that those men were traitors and that was that.”

  “There’s a difference between making decisions under battle stress conditions and in a prisoner-of-war camp. You had plenty of time to hold justifiable hearings—you just decided not to.”

  “That’s the problem with men like you and the men that run the camp now: too much reliance on military administration and protocol. It’s blinded you and made your men soft. And you’ve forgotten that we’re still at war and we still need to battle the enemy in and out of this camp.”

  “So am I your enemy, Captain Koenig?”

  “Officially, since you are also a German soldier, you are not my enemy per say. But in war, the sea is always changing and a good commander must be prepared for these changes.”

  “Is that why you’ve asked one of your men to come up behind me?” Neumann glanced be
hind him at the submariner standing close by. “Am I about to be punished for some crime the same way you punished various men when you were in command—the way you punished Mueller perhaps?”

  Koenig blinked twice in surprise at Neumann’s awareness of what was happening behind his back, and took two steps back. But then he placed his hands behind back, leaning forward again on his toes. “You can think what you want, but in reality, Sergeant, you know nothing. You are completely oblivious to what is happening in this camp, completely unaware of the decadence and decay that’s come over the men. Or maybe this is the status quo for you infantry types, living in squalor and filth. You don’t find that kind of German or these conditions in a U-Boat. We believe in structure, respect for command, and honour.”

  “So did you respect the honour of the men you hanged without due process? When you hanged Mueller?”

  “While some actions may not seem pleasant to others unused to such situations, they are necessary in order for us to succeed in war. That’s what you people seem to forget by your lack of discipline. If the Führer saw you and the conditions you live in and by, he would be most displeased.”

  “You know, I really hate it when people assume to know what would displease the Führer. I would ask you to please stop using his name in vain.”

  “And what would the great Sergeant Neumann do to prevent me from continuing in such a way?”

  “There are a wide variety of options available to me.”

  “Is that a threat, Sergeant? It sure sounded like one to me. And to me, making such threats to a higher ranking officer can be seen as an act of treason.”

  “So what is your judgment then, Captain Koenig? Am I to be hanged like many others or will your henchman behind me think of a more unpleasant way?”

  “Lieutenant Neuer could snap your neck, if I commanded him too. And then he would do the same to your assistant, Corporal Aachen, in their upcoming match.”

  “Personally, I think Corporal Aachen would have something to say about that,” Neumann said, not breaking his gaze with the submarine captain. He did, however, raise his eyebrows. “Don’t you, Corporal Aachen?” he said in a loud voice.

  “It is good to see you, Sergeant Neumann,” Aachen replied, walking towards the three men standing in the middle of the Rhine Hall. He was about fifteen metres away and moving quickly. “Although I was hoping for a more pleasant welcoming committee than what you are facing.”

  If Koenig was surprised to see Aachen, he did not show it. “As you have seen in his matches, Neuer is much faster than expected for a man of his size. He could snap your neck before your beloved Corporal Aachen arrives.”

  The sergeant raised his eyebrows again and then lifted up his left hand as a signal to stop Aachen. The corporal did stop, his hands clenched into fists by his side, ready to be used. “Is everything all right, Sergeant Neumann?”

  “Everything is fine, Corporal Aachen. The captain and I were having a discussion on the speed of Lieutenant Neuer and the difference between the members of the Wehrmacht and members of the Navy.”

  “Ah yes, the age-old question,” Aachen said.

  “Please, Corporal Aachen, keep your comments to yourself and let me finish this conversation so we can leave and get back to our regular rounds.”

  Neumann took a step towards the submarine captain. Koenig didn’t move and the large lieutenant also took a step to follow Neumann. “Let’s forget for a moment the threats made and the fact that if any move is made on me, there are a large number of Wehrmacht soldiers in these buildings, and many more on their way since one of the men in the orchestra already left to garner reinforcements, and that these soldiers, many of them veterans of battle, would take an unkind view of someone attacking me.”

  “I have 300 of the finest submariners in the Navy at my command. And I would easily pit them against any number of infantry soldiers you could throw at us,” Koenig said through clenched teeth, using a tone of disdain when he said the word infantry. “And no matter what would happen to us, you, in the end, would be dead.”

  “I agree with you, Captain Koenig. You do have a fine group of men under your command. Strong, disciplined, and loyal. I commend them and their efforts in their fight for the Fatherland. They have had difficult tasks in facing the enemy, tasks I would not take on myself, so I honour them. I also honour and respect you. You are a great strategic officer, Captain Koenig. Your victories in battle and the total tonnage of ships you have sunk are to be celebrated by all loyal Germans.”

  As he spoke, Neumann reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an object which he concealed as best he could with his hand. Koenig didn’t notice the movement because he was too close, but almost everyone else did. And when they saw what the sergeant was brandishing, they stiffened. Liszt sucked in a breath through his teeth. His first move was to back away, but then he stopped himself and started slowly walking to stand next to Aachen. The tumblers formed a line, ready to move.

  “You think a few compliments can win me and Neuer over, Sergeant Neumann? In any battle between the infantry and men like mine, you would lose, which I assume you know,” Koenig said, ignoring the movement around him. “And that is probably why you lost in North Africa, why you surrendered. It is Germans like you, soldiers of your ilk, who are the main reason that we are losing this war.”

  “Losing the war? Who said anything about losing the war? I should tell you that any German soldier, even one captured by the enemy, who promotes the idea that we are losing this war is committing a treasonous act, one that could be subject to a penalty of death. But I will let that comment slide due to the stress of the situation. And also because I just want to tell you one more thing.”

  “And what is that?” Koenig spat back.

  “You will be dead if Neuer makes any move on me.”

  “Ha, I don’t think so. Neuer is much faster than you think. He would snap your neck in—”

  “—in a second, yes, yes, I heard you the first time. However, in that fraction of a second, I would shove my knife into your belly and gut you so that you would bleed out like a fucking pig.” Neumann looked down at his right hand, revealing a homemade knife just inches from the submarine captain’s belly.

  When Koenig looked down and saw it, he stiffened, the colour draining from his face. “Sergeant Neumann, that is totally unnecessary.”

  “Yes, it probably is. However, let me explain before I move away. I was honest in my comments about respecting and honouring you and your men. I know you submariners to be great soldiers, great strategists, who gave their all to fight for the Führer and the Fatherland. But fighting in a U-boat is different than fighting on land. For the most part, you submariners kill your enemy from a distance. You strike quickly and then dash away, and never see the faces of the men you have killed. We do that in the infantry sometimes as well. But for a lot of our battles, we see our enemies face-to-face. And we try to kill them any way we can because they are trying to do the same to us. There are times when we have to fight hand-to-hand, using whatever tools we have at our disposal. So a smart infantry man prepares himself for these kinds of situations, ensuring that he has many weapons at hand, because you never know what the battle brings up.”

  He held the knife up, waving it slowly in front of Koenig. The captain’s eyes watched it warily. “I wasn’t planning on using this knife. In fact, I was meaning to throw it away once I took it off that private from Berlin,” Neumann continued. “But something made me keep it, something only another infantry man would understand. And like any good infantry man, I will use it if I have to, but I would not like to. Do you understand, Captain Koenig?”

  Koenig nodded quickly and with that movement, the large lieutenant backed away.

  “And in case you do not understand,” Neumann said, putting the knife back in his pocket and raising his voice to address the others in the hall, “in case no one else understands,
Captain Koenig may be the highest ranking officer in this building, however, I do not report directly to him. I report directly to the commanders of this camp, who, in turn, report directly to the commanders in Germany and the Führer. So any threats or actions against me or my assistant Corporal Aachen, or anyone else I deputize to assist me, is an action against the command of this camp, the Leader, and the Fatherland itself. And thus, an act of treason.”

  Some of the submariners stiffened, but many sneered instead. Neumann walked up to Lieutenant Neuer, stood next to him, and spoke sharply. “Do you understand?”

  The lieutenant snapped to attention and nodded.

  Neumann shook his head and stood in front of Neuer. “I’m sorry, I did not hear that, Lieutenant Neuer. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Neuer barked.

  “Again, Lieutenant. And louder please?”

  “Yes, Sergeant!” Neuer shouted.

  “And the rest of you. Do you understand?” Neumann shouted at them.

  In a split second, all of the submariners snapped to attention, simultaneously clicking their heels and shouting, “Yes, Sergeant.”

  Neumann nodded and then tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder. “You are good soldier, Neuer. Loyal to your captain. I admire that.”

  Then he turned and walked over to Aachen, not looking back as Captain Koenig deflated and fell to the floor.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Neumann said.

  10.

  Neumann and Aachen walked towards the south door of Rhine Hall passing the group of white-clad gymnasts. They were now standing in a group, like some kind of sporting street gang at the end of a match, hands clenched in fists, ready for a fight.

  The eldest gymnast, a muscular ex-bombardier named Bruhl left the group and walked alongside the sergeant and corporal as they made their way towards the door. “Everything okay, Sergeant?”

  “Everything’s fine, Lieutenant Bruhl. The captain and I just had a few words.”