by Heinz Rein
Then everyone enters the room. At a big table sits a Russian major with his back to the window, his hair is greying at the temples, he has several days’ growth of beard, his eyes are red-rimmed, his eyelids lie thick and heavy, the deep wrinkles of exhaustion are etched around his mouth and eyes. On the long side of the table sits a young staff sergeant with a narrow, dark head. He has a few sheets of paper in front of him, and holds a fountain pen.
With a heavy, weary gesture the major points to the chairs that stand around the table. When the men have sat down, he looks attentively and questioningly around at the faces. A few seconds pass like that, a few guns echo in the distance, hurrying footsteps in the corridor thunder back and forth, but here in the military commandant’s room it is quiet.
‘Gentlemen!’ the major begins at last. ‘You have been described to me as reliable and trustworthy, and I should like to ask you whether you are willing to assume the temporary administration of this district.’
The major speaks excellent German, with a slight accent, a rolling ‘r’, strictly separating the syllables in a staccato fashion.
‘The task before you is an incredibly difficult one,’ the major continues, ‘it cannot be accomplished with bureaucratic methods. You must supply the population with food, water and electricity as soon as possible, and I promise to help you do so, as far as it is in my power.’
‘I am sure of it, Major,’ Schröter shouts.
Dr Böttcher and Wiegand say nothing.
The major looks at the sergeant, whose pen is gliding rapidly over the paper.
‘As the mayor’s office you can occupy some rooms in this school for the time being. I will issue the order that they be freed up for you. Sergeant Yenakiev will give you papers which will allow you to pass unhindered, and you will also be given armbands to identify you to the outside world.’
Again the major lets his eye wander over the men’s faces.
‘I expect you to use all your strength and all your knowledge to overcome the misery of your people. Go to work without hesitation. I expect your first report by this time tomorrow. Thank you, gentlemen.’
When Dr Böttcher, Wiegand and Schröter go back downstairs, they stop by an open window. From here their eyes wander far over the sea of houses, over fields of rubble and fires, over torn streets and churned-up squares. The big city lies before them, mown down by the scythe of death, extinguished by the flaming torch of war, stamped down by the feet of the armies. A hurricane of destruction has torn down everything in its path, but there is still a breath within it, the blood in its veins has not yet frozen, the will of its people is not completely broken. Heavy clouds of smoke rise into the gloomy sky, jagged ruins obscure the horizon, here and there a church tower rises up like an extinguished torch, everywhere the roofs show their bare beams, cracks and breaches gape in the walls, panes of glass are missing from the windows. Down below in the street, mountains of debris have piled up, street lights and tram masts have collapsed, the cobbles have been blasted, the tracks torn up, the overhead lines dangle, the shops are merely empty, looted caves, desperate, hungry, weary, homeless people wander around, soldiers stagger dull-faced and dead-eyed to the assembly centres, while the cries of the women being raped echo from the houses.
Dr Böttcher shudders when he turns back to Wiegand. ‘It’s almost too hard,’ he says. ‘Those cries will follow us for a long time to come …’
‘Oh come on!’ Schröter interrupts him. ‘You have too gloomy an outlook.’
‘I wish that were so,’ says Wiegand. His face is sceptical.
Then they go downstairs. In the street they encounter a fine, thin rain. They turn up the collars of their coats and walk out into the ruined city.
A van with loudspeaker has stopped at the corner. It is announcing the capitulation.
THE BEGINNING
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PENGUIN BOOKS
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Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Dietz Verlag, Berlin in 1947.
This translation is based on the edition published by Schöffling & Co.
Verlagsbuchhandlung GmbH, Frankfurt am Main in 2015
This translation first published in Penguin Classics 2019
Translation copyright © Shaun Whiteside, 2019
The moral right of the translator has been asserted
Cover photograph © akg-images
ISBN: 978-0-241-24566-8
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
XI
1In 1807 the French Imperial Army laid siege to the Prussian-held fortress of Kolberg. The siege, which lasted from April to June, was lifted with the signing of the Peace of Tilsit.
XII
2The sadistic corporal in All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque.
XIII
1Pecunia non olet, ‘money doesn’t stink’, a phrase attributed to the Roman Emperor Vespasian.
2Walter Rathenau, 1867–1922, liberal German Foreign Minister murdered by right-wing zealots in 1922.
3Julius Rastenberger, a famous jockey at the Hoppegarten racetrack.
4Roland Freisler, 1893–1945, German jurist and Minister of Justice.
XIV
1Allgemeine Ortskrankenkasse – the general health service provider.
XVIII
1Literally ‘Muslims’, a slang term meaning apathetic idlers.
XXI
1A reference to the Stauffenberg plot, an attempt to assassinate Hitler on 20 July 1944.