“Was he Jewish?”
“Uh . . . no. I don’t think so. Looked like a factory worker to me. But when the major shot that boy, it was like something snapped in him. He took off running, howling in pain. He bowled into your soldiers and grabbed one of their rifles. Then raced for cover.”
“Former military?” the sergeant asked.
Hans hesitated. “Don’t think so. Held the rifle like a civilian.” He turned back to the officer. “Sir, I don’t think he wants to kill anyone. When the other soldiers started after him, he fired into the air. Let me go talk to him. See if I can find out what he wants. Maybe get him to give up his weapon.”
The lieutenant considered that for a moment, then turned to his sergeant. The sergeant was nodding. “It’s worth a try, sir. With him holed up behind that wall, somebody is going to get shot. And we’re not going to get that armored vehicle in here for half an hour or more. He could even slip away.”
The lieutenant’s eyes flicked back and forth between Hans and the sergeant, then he finally nodded curtly. “All right. Sergeant, pick two of your men to go with him.”
Hans’s head jerked around. “No! Sir, the minute he spots a uniform he could open fire. I’m not a threat to him. I’m just a guy from the crowd.”
The lieutenant’s lips pressed into a tight line as his face turned a mottled red. “You dare to question my orders?”
“Sir,” the sergeant began, but the officer whipped around. “Not a word, Sergeant!” he yelled. “Now pick your men.”
“Uh . . . Lieutenant, I— Think about it. This guy’s right. Our shooter sees a uniform and he’s gonna start shooting.”
Hans knew when he had lost. “Sorry, sir. I’m not volunteering for a suicide mission.”
The lieutenant reared back. “You will do what I say!” He waved the pistol under Hans’s nose.
Hans glanced at the sergeant, who was utterly disgusted now, then turned and started away. “Watch yourself, Sarge.”
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
Hans didn’t even glance back. He raised one hand and waved. “Go to hell, sir.”
For several seconds, the lieutenant glared at the receding figure. Then, raging, he lifted his Luger and fired twice. Hans never knew what hit him as he was knocked forward. He was dead before he hit the cement.
11:31 a.m.
Alemann’s head whipped up as he heard the two gunshots. He was up on his knees, peering over the wall in both directions. Nothing. His eyes shifted nervously back and forth, watching for any movement. He could hear the sound of men’s voices off to his right, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He sank back down and laid the rifle across his lap. After a moment he closed his eyes, turning his thoughts back to his family.
He took great comfort in knowing that he had at least done that right. Their papers were good. Hans and Emilee would make sure they got away safely. Richelle knew how to access their money. He had planned everything with meticulous care and was certain they were safe.
One last thing to take care of. That night in the park, as he and Hans had lain in the snow and watched a captain gun down Yakov Levy, he had tried to intervene, but Hans had knocked him out and saved his life. Now, he had witnessed a scene that was eerily similar. It was as though fate had given him a second chance.
He worked the bolt action on the rifle and made sure he had a round in the chamber, then lay back again and closed his eyes and thought of the words of the Shema in his head. This was the quintessential prayer for all faithful Hebrews, recited daily both morning and evening. It was an affirmation of God’s singularity and of one’s commitment to that singularity. If possible, they were the last words that the faithful heard in this mortal life.
Filled with a sudden peace, Alemann looked up to heaven, then put his hand over his eyes, as tradition required, and began to recite softly.
Shema yisrael, adonai, eloheinu, adonai echad.
Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one.
Baruch shem kavod malchuto l’olam va-ed.
Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever.
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
And with all your soul,
And with all your might.
Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day.
Impress them upon your children.
Recite them when you stay at home and when you are away,
When you lie down and when you get up.
Bind them as a sign on your hand and let them be a symbol upon your forehead;
Inscribe them upon the doorposts of your house and on your gates. Amen.
Alemann got to his knees and glanced upward once more. “Richelle, my darling, you are the love of my life and for all eternity. Watch over and bless our girls. Tell them often how much their father loved them.”
He took one last, quick breath, then vaulted over the wall and broke into a hard run.
“There he is!” Someone had shouted it, but it was not necessary. They had heard his footsteps and every rifle was now trained on the corner where he would appear.
“He’s mine!,” the major bellowed. “Stand down.” Not waiting to see if his command was obeyed, he rose to a kneeling position and made sure the Luger was cocked.
As the man in the coveralls burst into view, the lieutenant held his fire. When the man raised his rifle and fired it at him on the run, he didn’t flinch. He calmly waited until the man was about twenty-five feet away, then he took aim, and emptied all eight bullets in the magazine, putting them in a tight circular pattern in the center of Alemann Zeidner’s chest.
11:57 a.m.
Lisa and Leyna waited a long time after they had heard the last of the gunfire. They were hiding in the shadows of a small travel office, which had been firebombed sometime during the night. Once they had outraced the crowd, Lisa had been watching for an opportunity to disappear. When she saw this, she took it.
Holding her breath, fearing the worst, she stepped out and looked up and down the streets. There were people coming and going, but these were the normal pedestrians, not remnants of the crowd. A block to her right, she could see that there were a few figures still milling around in the plaza. Some were in uniform, but there were not nearly as many as there had been before. There was also a military Red Cross ambulance parked at the curb. Ahead of that was a truck filled with dozens of men. Two soldiers stood guard nearby.
Moving slowly and carefully, with Lisa leading, they stayed right up against the buildings or behind the few cars that were parked along the curb. Lisa pulled Leyna in behind her as they drew closer to the plaza, stopping behind the steps of an apartment building. She peered forward but couldn’t see much because of the steps. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“No, Lisa.” It was a cry of terror.
“I’ll be right here,” she soothed. “I just need to see better.”
She waited until Leyna nodded and went back behind the steps, then she moved down the street. By staying right up against the building, she was able to keep the truck between her and most of the people milling about the plaza. She had only gone about twenty feet when Leyna called to her again. “Lisa!”
“I’m here, Leyna. I’m not going any farther.” And she didn’t. Her own stomach was twisting and knotting up. She studied what she saw before her. A nurse was bandaging a woman in civilian clothes, though it didn’t look too serious. Next she focused on the truck. She was surprised to see that five of the men there wore crumpled black homburg hats and long black overcoats. She could also see that their beards were mostly gone, which confirmed her guess. They were the five survivors of the public humiliation. Even now, the memory made her cringe. Would she ever get those horrible images out of her mind?
Suddenly she stiffened. She saw now that it wasn’t just men
in the back of the truck. There were several women as well. Then she saw a flash of light green and instantly recognized it for what it was. It matched what she was wearing. It was a Bogenhausen school uniform. It had to be Erika. It came as no surprise when a moment later, Erika moved just enough to reveal Richelle sitting next to her, wearing the dress Lisa’s mother had given her to wear.
The urge to scream out, to race to the truck and try to free them was almost more than she could bear. But what would happen if she did is what held her back. Leyna would be caught or left alone. And Leyna would never survive either of those.
Tears welled up as Lisa turned and glanced back. Leyna was still there, watching her anxiously. Lisa felt a rush of gratitude that she couldn’t see the truck from where she was. She would have to tell her about it soon. But not yet. She was still in shock.
Then a soldier appeared, opened the cab, and climbed up behind the wheel. The two guards climbed into the back of the truck and secured the back gate as the engine roared to life. A moment later, the truck pulled away from the curb and rumbled off down the street. Hot tears spilled over as Lisa realized that she might be seeing her best friend in life for the last time.
“Lisa?” It was a plaintive cry.
She turned and held up one finger, then turned back. With the truck gone, Lisa had a clearer view of the plaza. In the shade of the building she saw a cluster of soldiers and thought she recognized the major. Then her eyes moved to the Red Cross vehicle. The woman was gone now, and the nurse and a soldier were near the back of it, talking quietly. Then something else caught her eye. On the sidewalk next to the ambulance, she saw something dark. She drew in a deep breath, her heart suddenly pounding. Moving very carefully, she edged another ten or fifteen feet closer. She heard Leyna call to her again but waved her off frantically.
Lisa’s knees nearly buckled when it became clear what she was looking at. The first body was the boy who had spit in the face of the major. She could see the bright red stain on his shirt. Next to him was a man in coveralls. Her father’s coveralls. It was a shock, but she had concluded some time ago that those last shots she had heard were for Alemann. But still deep pain shot through her.
The third body was alongside that of Alemann’s, so she couldn’t get a really clear look at it from here. Then she noticed that the overcoat was not buttoned, but lay partially open. Beneath it was a splash of brilliant blue. “No!” It was a blow to her stomach. For a moment, Lisa couldn’t get her breath. It was the shirt that she and Jo had given their father for his last birthday. The shirt that he had put on this morning before they left to go meet the Zeidners. She dropped to her knees and began to sob. Then she raised her head and screamed.
“Vati! Nooooooo!” Then she buried her face in her hands and began to shake uncontrollably.
“Hey! You there!”
The voice jolted Lisa back to reality. She looked around wildly, then saw one of the soldiers coming slowly toward her, shading his eyes from the sun. “You. Girl! Come here.” Chills flooded every fiber of her being as she jumped to her feet, staring at the man. He was still fifty or sixty feet away, but he was definitely looking at her and motioning for her to come.
One word flashed into her mind. Leyna! Lisa whirled and took off, running like a deer.
“STOP!”
That only spurred her on all the more. Leyna stepped out from behind the steps, eyes wide, her mouth a large O. Lisa barely slowed as she reached her. She grabbed her hand, yanked her forward, then shouted at her. “Run, Leyna!” she cried. “Run!”
Chapter Notes
Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass, is considered by most historians to have been a major turning point in the history of the Third Reich’s policy toward the Jews. The government had encouraged the Brown Shirts and other groups to vent their anger and even carry out specific assignments against the Jews from time to time. But this was on a scale never before seen because of Joseph Goebbels’s message that went out all across the country. Its scale was so vast, most agree that official statistics on what happened are all low estimates, perhaps very low. Others say it was the worse state-sponsored pogrom against an ethnic group in Europe in 700 years.
The tally that is formally acknowledged is staggering. It is difficult to determine the actual numbers. 191 synagogues, some of them as massive as many Christian cathedrals, were burned to the ground; 76 others were demolished and partially burned. An estimated 7,500 Jewish-owned stores and 815 Jewish businesses were destroyed; 171 houses were gutted; 11 Jewish Community Centers were burned or demolished; numerous Jewish cemeteries were vandalized and desecrated; hundreds, if not thousands, of Jewish citizens were beaten, bullied, and publicly humiliated.
The first official report of deaths acknowledged 36 fatalities, most of which were “justified” because they had incited the riots to begin with. Eventually, the official tally was raised to 236, including 43 women and 13 children. Many historians now believe there were more likely well over a thousand deaths in that 21-hour period.
Surprisingly, there were very few rapes. This was because the Third Reich’s policies forbade intermarriage or any sexual relations with Jews. Those who did cross that line were severely punished by their commanding officers. Looting was also forbidden in the message from Goebbels, but that seems to have been widely ignored and mostly went unpunished.
The question is often asked, “Did German citizens know what was going on and did they approve and participate?” That is not an easy question to answer. In the initial strikes by the SS and Gestapo forces, the answer is probably no, for this was ordered in strictest secrecy and began in the middle of the night. But numerous reports say that as daylight came on and the rampage continued—Goebbels did not officially call a halt to it until 5:00 p.m. on November 10—the crowds joined in, particularly with the looting, the burning, and the humiliation of Jews. More common were examples where the crowds looked on, some cheering the troops in their “labors,” some watching in disgust or horror but not making any protest.
On the other hand, there are also numerous reports of people—both Jews and Christians—who were appalled at what their government had done. Many—especially in the smaller towns and parishes—took in Jewish friends and neighbors, either protecting them from harm or hiding them until the fury eventually expended itself.
For those who wonder at the accuracy of the account of the woman holding up her child to witness the rampage, we have this report from the Berlin correspondent for the London Daily Telegraph posted immediately after Kristallnacht: “Mob law ruled in Berlin . . . and hordes of hooligans indulged in an orgy of destruction. I have seen several anti-Jewish outbreaks in Germany during the last five years, but never anything as nauseating as this. Racial hatred and hysteria seemed to have taken complete hold of otherwise decent people. I saw fashionably-dressed women clapping their hands and screaming with glee, while respectable, middle-class mothers held up their babies to see the ‘fun’” (Read, Devil’s Disciples, 514).
See also, “Annihilation: The Destruction of European Jews. Part 1 and 2,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPa1BlyUXP0.
November 11, 1938, 3:27 a.m.—
Near the Eckhardt Home, Schwabing District
For almost a full minute, Lisa stood like a statue, only her head moving very slowly back and forth as she searched the night. Her whole body was focused on listening for any unusual sound, watching for any unusual movement, noting anything out of the ordinary in the night.
She jumped and gave a low cry as something ice cold touched her arms. Whirling, her fists came up and cocked back. Leyna gasped and fell back a step. “I’m sorry, Mama! I’m sorry.”
Instantly, Lisa was to her and gathered her up in her arms, pulling close to her. She was shocked by the coldness of Leyna’s face and arms. “It’s all right, Leyna. It’s all right.”
Lisa quickly removed her jacket. “Here. Put this on.”
When Leyna weakly started to protest, Lisa helped her get it on and buttoned it up to her throat. “There. That’s better.”
In the dim light of a three-quarter moon, Lisa saw that Leyna’s eyes were overflowing with tears. “Oh, Lisa. I didn’t mean to call you Mama.” Then she buried her face against Lisa’s shoulder and began to sob. “They’re gone, aren’t they, Lisa? I saw them in the truck.” Her voice caught, and then her whole body shuddered as she began sobbing hysterically. “And Papa?” she cried between breaths. “Where’s Papa?”
As she held Leyna tightly, stroking her hair, Lisa decided it was time. No matter what was waiting for them. Leyna was near the edge, and it wasn’t going to take much to push her over.
“Come, Leyna,” she said tenderly. “It’s not far now. Let’s go home.”
3:33 a.m.—Eckhardt Home
Emilee leaped to her feet when she heard the soft tapping at the front door. She tiptoed quickly across the living room to the entryway. She turned to make sure all the lights were still off, then stepped to the door. “Who is it?” she called softly.
“It’s me, Mama.”
With a cry that has half joy and half sob, Emilee threw open the door, pushed the screen door open, and opened her arms. “Oh, Lisa! Thank the Lord.”
As they embraced, Lisa whispered, “And here’s Leyna, Mama. I have Leyna with me.”
Emilee’s head snapped up. “Leyna? But—” Then she shook it off, stepped onto the porch, took Leyna’s hand, and brought her inside.
As Emilee guided Leyna into the living room, a white blur shot across the room. “Leyna!” Jolanda opened her arms and swept her friend into them, laughing and crying as they embraced.
Leyna was dumbstruck, and not laughing with her. In the half light she peered at Jo, then reached out and touched her face to see if it was real. “Jo? But . . . I thought you were in school.”
“Not anymore. At least this year.” Then she whirled on her sister. “Lisa! Where were you? You’ve had us all worried sick.”
“We didn’t dare come home until we knew it was safe. But what are you doing home?” Then she brushed that aside. “This is good, Jo. Leyna’s in bad shape. Can you take her to our room and just talk to her for a while? See if you can get her to sleep? She’s ready to collapse.”
Fire and Steel, Volume 6 Page 51
