She hesitated. He was promising her the world. At least a paradise compared to what she’d seen in the last day. But he would not bargain with her. If she continued to defy him, how long would she last? A day perhaps? A week? How long did it take for your body to fall apart with no food and hours of backbreaking labor? With no sleep. She didn’t know, but it couldn’t be very long. Every part of her wanted to give in. But she knew she only had this last slim chance to save her daughter. She stared at the food for a moment longer, then shook her head. “I agree to everything, but Britta has to go.”
Gunther scoffed. “I can’t believe you,” he said. “Now you’ve done it. Do you know what you’re forcing me to do?” He rose and turned away. He shouted and the door opened again. Gunther motioned at the table, and the guard swept the food away. Gunther stepped to the door and gave more commands. Soon the guards were returning. They stepped in and stood behind her on either side, granite hands on her shoulders.
“Take Frau Bensheim back to the barracks,” he ordered. “She apparently misses her friends there. Order that bitch capo in here as well.” He turned to Trude. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he said reproachfully. “You’ve left me with no choice. Apparently one day wasn’t enough for you. I’ll check back with you in a week, perhaps in a month. If you’re still alive.” He glared at her, angrier than she’d ever seen him.
The soldiers lifted her out of the chair and dragged her from the room. Every ounce of her body cried out to stop them, to turn to Gunther, to beg him for anything, for everything. She knew she could not. Britta had only one chance for true safety. Gunther is bluffing, she told herself. He’ll never wait a week. No, he will come to me and give in to this one small demand. She was dragged back into the camp and into her barracks. The guards stayed with her there for about an hour. Eventually Frau Dauch returned from her visit with Gunther. She looked like she’d aged ten years. Her face was ghostly white. One of the guards shoved her to the ground, and then they turned and marched out the door, leaving the two women alone together in the empty barracks.
Frau Dauch picked herself up from the ground, dusting herself off, her gaze on the floor. She took several deep breaths and then looked up, locking eyes with Trude. Her pupils burned with an intense fury. She stepped forward and struck Trude across the face, first once, then twice, driving her down. The capo kicked her hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.
“You stupid little whore,” she screamed. “What did I tell you? I’m not going to let you harm me and these other women. I told Gunther to have you taken out back and shot, with that little brat as well, but he refused. I don’t know what kind of spell you’ve cast on him, but it won’t last long. You’re mine for the next month. I promised I’d break you. When I’m finished with you, he won’t want you back. He’ll have no interest in a scarecrow, and I promise you will be nothing but a bag of bones in a week. If you think yesterday was hard, you’re dreaming. I have more plans for you today. I’m going to attend to you personally. Now get up!”
Frau Dauch grabbed her by the ears, pulled her to her knees, and dragged her viciously to her feet. She pushed her outside into the snow, prodding her along until they traveled the familiar path past the barracks and out into the forest. The capo took her to the same crumpled building as the day before, only this time she did not leave. The rest of the day was something out of Trude’s deepest nightmares. Frau Dauch dogged her every step. Screaming at her, striking her, forcing her to work double time. If she stumbled, the capo rained blows down on her head until she forced herself back to her feet.
When the wheelbarrow was full, she was compelled to run with it, the bumping cart jarring, tearing at her muscles. On one trip, she upended the wheelbarrow midway and Frau Dauch was instantly on her, beating her over and over as she scrambled to pick up the bricks and pile them back into the cart.
Hour after hour the trial continued. The screaming and the beatings soaked into every fiber of her existence. Time lost all meaning. The world was a blur. The last day in the camp seemed a pleasant vacation compared to this. She prayed to God to end the agony. Let her heart give out. Perhaps one of the guards would mercifully shoot her. She didn’t care anymore; she just wanted it all to end.
Somehow she made it to the end of the day. Frau Dauch dragged her back to the barracks and shoved her into the frozen line. When everyone was assembled, the capo announced loudly that because of Trude, they would all have to stand in roll call twice as long. They would be punished for her bad behavior. Trude could hear the grumbling and saw the looks of hatred from up and down the line. God knew what would happen next. She might be murdered in the night. They stood there in the frozen snow, conducting the roll call hour after hour. Finally, they were released, but Frau Dauch held her back.
“No food for you. You will stand here during dinner as well.” Frau Dauch kept her out in the cold, forcing her to stand perfectly still, striking her each time she moved. Trude’s legs shook so badly she did not know how much longer she could make it. Eventually she allowed Trude to return to the barracks. The lights were still on when they came through the door. There was utter silence.
She saw the stares from the angry women, the accusing looks. She understood. She could not blame them. She’d added one more misery to this hell they were all living. How could they do anything but hate her. She started toward her bunk, but Frau Dauch stopped her again.
“Stay there,” she said. “I have a little surprise for you.”
What could it be now? What new torment? She just wanted to collapse into her bunk.
The door opened. Guards dragged in another prisoner, head shaved, in the familiar striped uniform. She realized with horror it was Britta. Her daughter looked up, not recognizing her mother for a moment, fear and anxiety capturing her eyes. When she realized it was Trude, her daughter ran to her, throwing her arms around her, burying her head in Trude’s chest and sobbing. Trude looked up and saw Frau Dauch’s cruel smirk. She felt her heart dying. She’d lost. The game was over.
“I want to see Gunther,” she said. “I want to see him now.”
Frau Dauch rolled her head back and bellowed out a loud guffaw. “That Gunther’s a clever one. He told me that’s exactly what you would do when your little brat arrived here.”
Trude ignored her. “I want to see him now.”
“Still think you’re calling the shots? I’ll take you to him . . . in a week.”
“No. I want to go now.”
“You will stay until I say so, you little bitch.”
“I’ll tell Gunther.”
The capo laughed. “Go ahead. Those were his orders. You are both to stay here for a week, no matter what you say. He doesn’t even want a report. You’re going to spend some time with your daughter.” Her mouth wrenched up in a crooked smile. “You wouldn’t deprive me of the opportunity to get to know her, would you?”
Trude fell to her knees, grabbing the hem of the capo’s pants. “I can’t,” she said. “Please just take me to him now. I’ll do anything he wants.”
“I’m glad you finally get it. Of course you will do anything, you little slut. What did I tell you? That’s how things work around here. But you must learn your lessons first. You don’t get a second chance and you don’t bargain with the Germans. Now shut your mouth and go to bed. You’ll stay until I say so. I’ll see to your comfort. If you survive, Gunther will meet with you then.”
Trude clung to Britta. She could feel the hostile stares boring into her. She could expect no sympathy from these women. No mercy from mothers, sisters, and daughters who’d already lost everything. A week, a lifetime. She had to focus on that. They would have to survive somehow. She would protect her daughter. They would work hard, double time. They would make it through this torment. Someday she would have her revenge. She swore it there on her knees to her God, to the universe. She would have vengeance for herself, for her daughter, for her people.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Königsberg
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March 1943
Erik Mueller reported to duty at SS headquarters in Königsberg. He wore a plain sergeant’s uniform, black now, rather than the gray of the Waffen-SS. There were no decorations. He’d lost those. His past was scraped clean. He expected to meet with Karl, but he was informed that the lieutenant colonel was not available. Instead he was tersely handed some documents providing him orders for his new assignment. He read the materials carefully. He noted with surprise he would not be stationed in Königsberg as he’d hoped. Instead he was assigned to work in another part of East Prussia.
After returning home to pack, he was driven to the train station by a low-level orderly and summarily dropped off without ceremony. As he waited for the train he reflected on the last couple of days. The icy tension of his home. Corina’s cold, careless stares. At least there’d been no more explosions between her and his father. He had been able to spend time with their daughter, the one joy in an otherwise trying visit. This morning he breakfasted with his parents, but Greta was not yet awake and Corina refused to come down. She did not bid him farewell or good luck. Perhaps he did not deserve it. He’d hoped to have some words of encouragement from Karl, anything that might give him a path to redemption, but he’d been denied even this. Well, he knew what he must do. He must work hard and follow orders. Whatever was asked of him, he must perform without question. If he did this, there was a small chance he could redeem himself and perhaps restore a portion of his future.
The train arrived and he took a seat in third class, riding with the other soldiers and noncommissioned officers. He was struck by the small portions and the poor quality of the food on the train. Things had clearly changed in the last year. He knew from speaking to his parents that the rations had been cut back to less than half of what they had started the war with. There was still plenty of food coming from the occupied countries, but not all of it was making its way to the average civilian apparently. He sat by himself, not knowing the strangers around him. One soldier, a corporal in the Wehrmacht, tried to strike up a conversation but gave up after Erik responded with a couple of terse answers. He was in no mood for conversation.
The train chugged along, hour after hour, stopping at the various stations. As darkness fell they arrived at the town he was assigned to. He disembarked. He left the platform and was greeted by an SS corporal who saluted smartly and took him, after examining his papers, to a waiting car. The vehicle roared off into the night. Erik looked around him curiously, not knowing this place or the countryside. However, there was little he could see. Soon they had pulled up to a barbed-wire fence gate. His papers were reviewed again, and then they were admitted. The car drove down the road a few hundred meters, coming to rest in front of a large red brick building with white frames on the second floor. He was ushered inside and up to the Kommandant’s office. When he knocked tentatively, a voice inside ordered him to come in.
Erik entered and was shocked to see that the major in command was someone he knew. He gave a salute, and the commander beckoned him forward.
“Hello, Sergeant, we meet again,” said Major Wolf, his voice stressing Erik’s diminished rank.
Erik couldn’t believe it. He’d been assigned to work for Karl’s old assistant. He still stung from the lashing Karl and Gunther had given him several years ago, when he’d come to his friend about his concerns with Sauer’s conduct in France.
“Sit down, Mueller,” snapped Gunther, watching him sternly. He took a seat while the major reviewed some documents in front of him. Finally, he looked up again. “I heard about all of your little adventures. So, they sent you to me,” he said, “as if I needed more problems.”
“I won’t be a problem, sir. I’ve—”
“Keep your mouth shut,” he barked sternly. “I don’t want to hear it. Karl told me all about you—the whole story. Let me start by saying I don’t give a damn about a few hundred Russians.” He leaned forward, his eyes black as coal. “What I do care about is men who are loyal to the party and to Germany. You’ve displayed none of that. Instead you disobeyed orders from a superior commander. And that after you’d already been warned. Do you remember that? I was there when Karl told you what you had to do. You ignored him, so you failed your party and the SS.” Gunther leaned back. “And now I have to deal with you.”
Erik listened, not sure if he should respond. He decided against it.
Gunther nodded approvingly. “Well, at least you’re keeping your mouth shut now. Perhaps you can learn something after all. We shall see. Do you know what this place is?”
Erik shook his head.
“This is a labor and transit camp. Do you know what that means?” he asked.
Erik shook his head again.
“We collect Jews here, along with Russians and other undesirables.” He waved his hand negligently. “Some stay for a while; most move on to bigger camps.”
“What are the camps for?” asked Erik.
Gunther laughed. “Why, for extermination, of course.”
“What do you mean?” asked Erik, his horror rising.
“This is why Karl sent you here. To find out whether you have anything inside you worth saving. You’ve come to the bottom of the heap, my boy. Let me tell you what we’re about. Very few people outside these camps know what’s going on.
“As you know, the Führer has spoken for a very long time about the evils of the Jews. They cost us the last war. They won’t cost us this one, though. We’ve been tasked with special duty. The SS is eliminating the Jews from Europe.”
“All of them?” asked Erik, stunned by the news. “There are millions of them.”
“There were,” corrected Gunther. “I don’t know how many are left. They hide in the cracks and crevices of society. But we are rooting them out, and soon there will be none.”
“That can’t be possible,” said Erik. “You’re testing me.”
“Oh, it’s all too possible, my friend. We started right after the invasion of Russia. We were shooting them at the time, but that’s messy and expensive business. We experimented and found a better way.”
“What does that mean?”
“Gas chambers. Stuff them in and seal them up. Twenty minutes”—Gunther snapped his fingers—“and they’re gone. They gas them, yank the gold out of their teeth, sort through their valuables. Bodies go up the chimney. Rinse and repeat. Easy.”
“We’re gassing Jews here?”
“No,” said Gunther, a trace of sadness passing his face. “We’re too small-time for that. Although I’ve advocated for them to build a chamber here. No, here we’re stuck working and starving them to death. It takes much longer, but you’d be surprised how the numbers mount up over time. Pretty impressive really.
“That’s not our main business, though. Mostly we collect them up and ship them out. We’ve got some people here doing labor. Inmates, if you want to call them that. They mostly grow a little food, do some repairs, a little construction. None of them make it long. A month or two and they’re worn out.”
“You’re working them to death?”
“You’re working them to death,” mocked Gunther, repeating the words in a shrill voice. “Just so. Karl wants you in the thick of things. He told me to give you the toughest assignments. I disagree. I’m not about to create more problems for myself. Weakness is a sickness like fear. It invades not only the man but everyone around him. I cannot have a soft hand in the camp. So, good news for you. Our supply sergeant was recently promoted and has moved on. I don’t think you can do too much harm in the warehouse. I hear you’re smart, too. You should be able to handle things. There’s a corporal there. He’ll show you the ropes. It’s mostly food and supplies and the valuables we collect.”
He opened a drawer, drawing out a piece of paper and handing it to Erik. “Here is a list of certain items you will set aside. These are to be brought directly to me, do you understand?”
Erik nodded, folding up the paper and tucking it away. He would read it later.
/> “I’ll expect a report each week. I want detailed records. Everything must be accounted for. The last thing I need is an audit.” Gunther ran his hands through his thinning hair.
Erik started to rise.
“Look at me, Mueller.”
Erik turned back to Gunther. “People die here, lots of them. I’m not going to call on you to be directly involved. I don’t think you have the stomach for it. But you’ve already shown a propensity for squealing. This is a difficult task the SS has taken on. Not even the whole organization knows what we’re doing. I don’t need problems from above. Do you understand me?
“Karl placed me in charge because he knew I could get the job done. The same can’t be said of you. He sent you here because he knows I can handle you. I want to remind you what you signed. What’s at stake if you do anything wrong. I won’t hesitate a moment to crush you and your family if you step a toe out of line. This is your last chance. You’re hanging by a thread. If you do your duty, if you serve me loyally without complaint, without any problems, I will write you a commendation at the end of the war. Who knows,” said Gunther shrugging, “perhaps you’ll even be promoted again. But do one thing wrong and it will be the end of you. There will be not a breath of a second chance. Do I make myself clear?”
Erik nodded.
“Then get out of my office,” Gunther said. “Ask one of the guards to show you to the warehouse. It’s a bit of a trip. I’ll see you here once a week for your report.”
A Bitter Rain Page 30