Huber's Tattoo

by Quentin Smith

  “Goodnight, Henry.” The phone clicked.

  He lay without moving for a few stunned moments, the phone still pressed to his ear. His eyes were now open, staring blankly ahead. Then, in a fluid movement, he dropped his mobile on to the dark wooden side table and picked up the yellowed receiver beside a stained orange satin bedside lamp. He dialled quickly.

  “Natasha.” He rubbed his temples furiously.

  A half smile edged across his face.

  “No, I’ll eat later, thank you, I have a really bad head right now.”

  Twenty-Five

  Hauptsturmführer Rolph Huber

  Heim Hochland

  Steinhöring

  Bavaria

  Sturmbannführer Oskar Pahmeyer

  Hadamar Psychiatric Hospital

  Hadamar

  Hessen

  29 October 1937

  Dear Oskar,

  Congratulations on your promotion which I read about in a recent SS bulletin. You have done well for yourself in just three years, my friend. How are things progressing at Hadamar? I hear that Reichsführer Himmler is frustrated at the slow progress in eradicating the unworthy of life required to change the composition of German society for the better. Have you heard anything in this regard?

  My senior officer here, Sturmbannführer Gudrun Nauhaus, who also happens to be the matron in charge of this facility, is under increasing pressure from Himmler to provide more and more desirable successors who will eventually inherit our thousand year Reich and carry it forward. Gudrun is a delightful person, the only woman who has been able to take my thoughts away from Liesel guiltlessly. I find myself longing for our weekly meetings when we stroll through the manicured gardens.

  This is a remarkable place, Oskar. Despite the hardships we have endured throughout Germany in the past ten years, here at Heim Hochland we seem to live in a land of plenty. Everything is so comfortable, to the point of being luxurious; there is lots of fresh food and even meat; we want for nothing here. The pregnant mothers and babies receive only the best care possible – you would be truly amazed at the facilities that we provide.

  We accommodate pregnant women from all over Germany because, as a gynaecologist you will undoubtedly know, it is illegal to have an abortion anywhere now. We heard recently of a doctor in nearby Augsburg who was caught performing an abortion on a poor fourteen-year-old girl who got herself into trouble. He was executed by the Gestapo, my friend, just like that, without even a proper trial. As long as the pregnant women (and the fathers) meet the strict Aryan selection criteria they will not be refused a place at Heim Hochland. There are no questions asked or judgements passed about unmarried mothers, about adulterous offspring, as long as the product is a healthy and desirable future German citizen. In fact, about half the young women here are unmarried. It is quite incredible and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

  Many are very young, some barely teenagers, often entertained by SS Officers who come by here to visit them, or take them out. Gudrun tells me that the Führer wants Germany to have a population of 120 million people, so after the great losses of the last war we have a long way to go in reaching that number.

  We have heard that more facilities like this one are being planned elsewhere in Germany. Have you heard anything? Do you know if this is true? I must be honest when I say that I still find myself struggling to come to terms with our ethos here: on the one hand offering only the best towards mothers and babies – and I have never in all my medical years seen equipment like we have here, no expense has been spared, Oskar – while on the other hand we are turning a blind eye to common morals and decency that our society has always valued so highly. Himmler has even introduced incentives for women to have more children: vouchers for discounts in shops and something called the ‘Mother’s Cross’, a medal for those bearing four, six, or even eight children for the Reich. Fortunately, I have the strength of belief in our united goal, that being Himmler’s vision to improve and strengthen our society, though sometimes I must admit I feel as if Liesel is watching me, judging me, perhaps disapproving. It is a strange feeling, hard to describe, and on occasions it keeps me awake as I lie in bed.

  Forgive me, my friend, for I have failed to ask about your work and your well-being in Hadamar. Are you still as busy as I recall? Are fewer patients dying under anaesthesia for sterilization these days? Is Standartenführer Brack still in charge? More importantly, have you found yourself a wife yet? If not, there are plenty of strong and pretty women here who would love to make your acquaintance. I cannot stress this enough!

  As an SS Officer you are seen as extremely desirable breeding material for the future of Germany. Though it sounds crass and has never been openly discussed, I can tell you, my good friend, that I sense an expectation on me here to father children with good Bavarian womenfolk, no questions asked, no strings attached.

  Gudrun, who often takes me for long walks around these beautiful gardens to discuss matters, tells me that our work in Heim Hochland is greatly valued by Reichsführer Himmler and is vital to the future prosperity of Germany. Though I’m sure she is right, I do find myself longing for those exciting days back at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute in Berlin working with Professor Vogt. It was exciting, daring and intellectually challenging, especially in the KWI-A where we worked on heredity and eugenics. I miss it and I miss him and it is unlikely that I will work with him again as he has been dismissed from his post. I still cannot believe this.

  Vogt is such a brilliant scientist who has achieved some remarkable things: how can they hope to manage without him? Did you know that the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute has produced five Nobel Prize winners since 1930 alone, two in medicine and two in chemistry? They are constantly pushing the boundaries of incredible new discoveries, particularly in human physiology and medicine.

  Oh, the time. I must go, Oskar, I have a special occasion to attend this afternoon with some very high ranking SS guests. Then it is dinner with the finest Bavarian foods and wines from Burgundy. What can I say, my friend – you need to get yourself over here, if you can.

  Your friend and colleague, as ever,

  Rolph Huber.

  Huber signed the letter with his Schaeffer fountain pen before folding and then slipping it into an official brown document holder. He stood up and checked himself in the full length mirror. Unusually, he had been told to wear his SS tunic with full military regalia, including dagger and Luger. He pulled his tunic straight, smoothing creases; his black boots were highly polished; the silver insignia, lapel badges and SS Totenkopf on his cap glistened in the low light.

  A gentle knock on the door interrupted his grooming. He opened it to reveal Sturmbannführer Gudrun Nauhaus in her SS tunic and calf-length, figure-hugging skirt. Huber had never seen her in full black military dress; her hair, scraped tightly away from her finely boned face, accentuated her pale complexion, neatly applied red lipstick and disarming blue eyes. He felt his heart skip a beat.

  “Come,” she said with an approving smile, taking him warmly by the hand. “There is someone important I want you to meet.”

  Twenty-Six

  Steinhöring

  The main hall at Heim Hochland was humming with activity as Huber strode in beside Gudrun, the sharp lines of their black tunics cutting an imposing portrait of a powerful and desirable couple.

  “Wow!” Huber exclaimed as he took in the transformation of the room.

  Flamboyant white and green bouquets of flowers dominated the front of the hall, where giant black, red and white swastikas adorned the heavy wooden furnishings on the stage. The ostentatious brass chandeliers had been lowered from the high ceiling, shining their warm, yellow light on what resembled an altar in the centre of the stage, covered by a large, cloth swastika.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Gudrun replied, pressing her shoulder against Huber’s arm as she leaned closer to him. He breathed in her enchanting scent.

  The front rows of chairs were filled with young women wearing pastel-
coloured dresses and hats with black bands, all of them nursing infants swaddled in clean white blankets. Standing along each side of the room, rich with ornately decorative architraves, cornices and plaster arches painted in gold leaf, were about a dozen SS soldiers in breeches and boots, watching the proceedings with stern, emotionless faces.

  “Is that Professor Bauer?” Huber asked in astonishment, seeing his former research colleague from the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute standing on the stage speaking to a familiar-looking senior SS officer.

  “Standartenführer Bauer. Do you know him?” Gudrun’s eyes flicked over Huber’s features excitedly, revealing a hint of approbation that Huber might know such an important person.

  “I worked closely with him in Berlin, at the KWI. I had no idea he was in the SS, let alone so high ranking.” He exchanged a brief smile with Gudrun, pleased to be brought face to face with his former colleague again. “Who is he talking to?”

  With the words barely dry on his lips, Huber suddenly recognised the man: of medium build and height, slightly balding in front, with very short hair shaved back at least two inches above his ears; round, gold-framed spectacles with thick lenses and a small, short moustache covering only his philtrum; it was Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler. Huber blushed.

  “Do you mean Reichsführer Himmler?” Gudrun asked, sensing his embarrassment.

  “It’s just that… I’ve never seen him before,” Huber said by way of explanation, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. “I never expected to see him here, in Heim Hochland.”

  “This is his pet project, Doctor. I was hoping to introduce you to him.”

  “Does he always come to these baptisms?”

  “Only on special occasions. He particularly cherishes children who share his birthday – the sixth of October.”

  Huber and Gudrun walked forward and took their seats, three rows from the front behind the proud new mothers and amongst Heim Hochland’s plentiful staff of nurses and midwives. The hall smelled of starched uniforms, vigorous perfumes, fresh leather and gun oil: in other words – power.

  The horn players started up and everyone stood, saluting straight-armed to the stage. In confident voice the congregation sang all four stanzas and refrains of Horst-Wessel-Lied. Huber sang freely and without inhibition, taking encouragement from Gudrun’s faultless and enthusiastic pure tone vocalisations:

  We will continue to march,

  Even if everything shatters;

  Because today Germany hears us,

  And tomorrow, the whole World.

  Huber watched with interest as both Himmler and Bauer sat to one side of the front of the hall beneath a large flower arrangement, their chairs angled at forty-five degrees to both the audience and the stage. Huber found it strange looking at Professor Bauer, not as a white-coated, intelligent researcher alongside the famous Professor Vogt, but as a high-ranking official in the Schutzstaffel. For two years they had collaborated and worked closely in Berlin, sharing personal anecdotes on a daily basis, yet Huber had had no indication of Bauer’s affiliation to the Nazi Party’s elite wing.

  “Why is Professor Bauer here?” Huber whispered in Gudrun’s ear, smelling the freshness of her washed hair and delicate perfume over the starched formality of her tunic.

  Gudrun hesitated, pondering her response.

  “It’s his secret project, I think. You might find out more, later.”

  After a short prayer from a tall, lean SS officer in his fifties, they called out the first baby. The mother walked forward on to the makeshift stage and handed her baby to a young SS officer. The baby began to cry.

  “Who is that?” Huber asked, discreetly pointing at the tall SS officer who was anointing the baby with oil taken from a large round brass bowl.

  “That’s Himmler’s adjutant, Schmedermann. He always performs the baptisms,” Gudrun whispered.

  The baby’s crying became louder and more desperate. Himmler chuckled and leaned closer to Bauer as the two men exchanged something humorous. Schmedermann turned to the assembled congregation with a wry grin.

  “A good pair of Aryan lungs, ja?”

  Then the baby’s mother stepped forward and pledged her allegiance to the Nazi Party on behalf of her newborn baby as the adjutant held a ceremonial SS dagger above the baby, the Reich’s baby, the prized future of Nazi Germany.

  When the mother had returned to her seat with the baby the next mother stepped up, the process repeated for each new baby born at Heim Hochland. Throughout the ceremony Himmler and Bauer watched with smug satisfaction oozing from their smiling faces. Proceedings seemed to take some time, laden with an air of significance and expectation.

  Huber noticed that the mothers, almost without exception, seemed indifferent to their babies. Most handed their infant bundles back to the waiting legion of nurses seated immediately behind them as soon as the ceremony ended.

  “Now it’s time for champagne and congratulations,” Gudrun said as she stood up, smoothing her long black uniform with the flattened palms of her hands, her turquoise eyes flashing.

  “Congratulations?” Huber said.

  “Of course! We have safely produced another dozen of the finest German offspring for our great nation. Now our esteemed leaders will heap upon us their grateful admiration.”

  The SS officials moved into an adjacent room, smaller, less formal and affording views, through great windows along one wall, of the sprawling gardens outside. Visible out on the neatly mown lawn were rows of white cots into which the nurses were placing the babies for their afternoon rest in fresh air and sunshine.

  “Doctor Huber!” a familiar voice said from behind Huber’s left shoulder.

  He spun around, almost spilling champagne from his wide-brimmed glass.

  “Professor Bauer! I mean, Standartenführer Bauer,” he said, snapping his heels to attention.

  “Relax, Rolph, I am still just Professor Bauer. I see you are a Hauptsturmführer already. I always knew you would do well.” Bauer said, sounding like a proud father as he shook Huber’s hand vigorously.

  Bauer was approaching sixty, bald but for a few stubborn grey hairs above each ear, the skin of his scalp adorned with several light brown naevi resembling hyena spots. A neatly trimmed white moustache clung to his upper lip above crooked teeth stained by a lifelong pipe-smoking habit.

  “What do you mean, Professor?”

  Bauer chuckled and drank thirstily from his champagne.

  “Who do you think recommended you to Section Five of the Schutzstaffel?” Bauer tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. “The Reich needs clever and ambitious young doctors like you.”

  “Why are you here in Steinhöring, Professor?” Huber asked.

  “We must talk, Rolph, but this is not the place,” Bauer said, placing a protective arm around Huber’s shoulders and steering him away from the midst of the celebration. “I had you transferred to Steinhöring because I need your assistance with one of our most ambitious projects ever. It is something Himmler believes in most fervently and he has generously ensured that we have more than enough funding and support. The work was conceived in the unit at KWI-A in Berlin, but it is here in Steinhöring where it must be brought to life, quite literally.”

  “You mean Professor Vogt’s unit, the Institute for Brain Research?”

  Bauer nodded sadly.

  “You have heard?” he asked.

  “About Professor Vogt?”

  Bauer nodded, evaluating Huber’s facial expressions cautiously.

  “Standartenführer Brack told me at Hadamar… before I was transferred.”

  Bauer smiled and prodded Huber’s chest with an extended finger.

  “That’s why the Reich needs you, why I need you, Rolph, to assist me in continuing with Vogt’s work and accelerating the programme.

  Huber gulped at his champagne excitedly. He had always believed there must be a reason why he was transferred so far away from the beating heart of the Third Reich, but from that first day in Hadamar
when Standartenführer Brack had spoken of utilising his special talents, he had felt assured that they had something of importance in mind for him. His disappointment at Professor Vogt’s misfortune only slightly diminished his inner excitement.

  “When, Professor, when can we discuss this further?”

  “Tonight, Rolph, after the dinner. Right now I want to introduce you to Reichsführer Himmler.” He turned to locate Himmler in the room. “Come and meet someone truly powerful in this ambitious nation of ours, someone who enjoys the personal company of our Führer on an almost daily basis.”

  Huber looked up and caught Gudrun’s eye as she smiled at him admiringly from across the room. It was as if she knew he was rubbing shoulders with the Nazi elite while discussing vital business. Her face said that she was both approving and proud that it should occur in her nursing home. She winked at him subtly. He smiled back and then returned his attention to Professor Bauer.

  “Gudrun told me that Reichsführer Himmler was here today because some of the babies were probably born on his birthday.”

  Bauer smiled and then looked serious.

  “I was very saddened to hear of the tragic passing of your young wife, Rolph.” He paused. “Gudrun is indeed an attractive woman and I have seen the way that she looks at you.” Bauer’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to Rolph. “Gudrun must not learn about what we will discuss, though. She is not involved in our secret project in any way at present. Understood?” He squeezed Huber’s arm firmly between surprisingly powerful bony fingers.

  “Yes, Professor.”

  Bauer nodded and smiled, letting go of Huber’s arm.

  “She is right, of course, Himmler does dote on all German children that share his birthday, but today he was here for far more important reasons. Reasons I will explain later.”