A Right to Plunder

by Brendan O'Neill

  The next stage for the Darius family was Drancy internment camp in Paris with all its horrors.

  FOUR

  HAMBURG: 1945

  When Anna Krantz woke up, it was twelve hours later, but she was unaware of time or place. She was lying down and automatically recoiled into the foetal position. She trembled with fear and in the surrounding blackness, her panic returned. The nightmare of her mother’s horrific death and the agonising journey of the past few days, were etched raw into her psyche. Slowly, she tried to focus on the shadowy darkness. Straining her senses, she thought she could hear soft music in the distance. Her young body ached all over and when she tried to move, the extreme pain of so many cuts and bruises was felt everywhere. Her heartbeat raced and she began to sweat. She became conscious that she was in new fresh clothes and the blanket over her, smelled clean. Adjusting to these strange surroundings, she could now clearly hear music coming from another room. It was an unrecognisable gentle lyric, and she tried desperately to control the pounding of her heartbeat and laboured breathing to obtain a sense of where it was emanating from.

  After an indeterminable amount of time, she became aware of a door gently opening, and a sliver of light entering the shadowy room. As if to confirm this, the music got louder. Fearfully she recoiled further beneath the blanket as she heard footsteps approach across the wooden floor. She sensed someone standing over her and then she heard a surprisingly soft gentle voice speaking to her in re-assuring tones. He told her not to be afraid now as her ordeal was over. He introduced himself as Hans Gottlitz and still afraid to open her eyes, she guessed that he was elderly. His accent was different to the Berlin tones which she was used to hearing. She listened anxiously. “You have been through a dreadful ordeal. I found you lying on the road nearly dead. You are now in my small house where I live alone and you will be safe here. I will not ask you any questions until you regain your strength”. He then told her that he was going to prepare some food for her. The voice she heard was soft and reassuring. A flicker of hope crossed her face as she heard the door close behind him and the muffled sound of music released her again into a deep sleep.

  Hans Gottlitz went back into the kitchen area and searched for some precious soup ingredients for the little girl. He was elderly now and missed his wife who had died ten years ago. He had retired from the city transport authority as a supervisor in 1938 and he was looking forward to a relaxing time after thirty years of service and civic duty. When the bombing had started on his beloved port city of Hamburg, he had responded to a call from the civic authorities to come out of retirement and assist others in the war-torn city. Night after night, he attended the maimed and injured by transporting them to makeshift hospitals where appalling medical emergencies confronted medics and staff. Hans had a basic knowledge of first aid, and as the months went by, his skill became more efficient. Never a supporter of National Socialism or its policies, he had managed to remain non-committal when colleagues initiated debate with him on the war issue. As the conflict escalated and the bombing of Hamburg increased, he became very angry at what was happening to his beloved city. Hamburg had never succumbed to the rhetoric or exhortations of the Third Reich, it was a city ignored by Hitler (rarely if ever visited) who was aware that his message was not getting through to its populance. It was all the more infuriating that the Royal Air Force had targeted the city for obliteration. The daily diatribe on the radio from propaganda Minister, Josef Goebbels in Berlin, fuelled his feeling of outrage at the pernicious speeches exhorting the population to resist the Allies and the Red Hordes. It was calamitous that 45,000 civilians had been killed in Hamburg alone and the city reduced to rubble. The British, aided by the Americans in the bombing raid of July 1943, code named ‘Gomorrah’, had created a firestorm, killing this huge number and leaving the city a burning hell from which it would never recover. Hans had cursed them all, but railed privately against the fascist regime for its abhorrent policies.

  Listening to the radio and sitting on a small reclining chair, he caught a reflection of himself in the shining soup pot in which he was boiling vegetables for the distressed girl. His face was long and somewhat careworn, and had an image of kindness. Life had an emptiness since the loss of his wife, which he struggled to fill with civic responsibilities, but sometimes the void was unbearable. He loved music and the lyrical tones being played were a serenade by Brahms who was born in Hamburg and had achieved fame during his lifetime. Radio transmissions at this time were sporadic and often there were long intermissions. Therefore, it came as no surprise to Hans when the music suddenly stopped. He was listening to Grossdeutscher Rundfunk, the Reich broadcasting corporation coming from an underground studio in Berlin, a sombre voice announced: “The Führer is dead. Long live the Reich”. The radio then went silent. He looked at his watch, it was 5.30a.m on the 1st of May. A new beginning he thought. The nightmare ends. But what was coming next, he exhaled audibly and seemed to physically diminish under the weight of a future burden. It had been twelve years of Nazi ideology, fuelled by an unprecedented hysteria of enormous national pride, followed by the nadir of destructive despair. Getting up slowly with a resigned sigh, he must attend to the injured girl in the room next door.

  FIVE

  BERLIN. 1942

  Hauptbahnhof, central rail station, Berlin, was akin to an ant heap of activity on the morning of Tuesday 5th May 1942. This early summer morning had a definite festive air imbued with optimism for Germany’s undoubted success in the war and the buoyant atmosphere permeated the massive building.

  Swastika banners draped down from the high roof and a large montage of the Führer was suspended from girders over the enormous entrance arch. Every type of German military uniform was on display throughout the station. The smart navel cadets and officers of the Kriegsmarine on their way to join their boats and submarines in the port city of Kiel on the Baltic coast drew admiring glances in their service uniforms. Many Luftwaffe pilots were to be seen going or returning to the various fronts, displaying on their lapels the proud emblem of the golden eagle holding a swastika. The Third Reich boundaries were ever expanding from deep into Russia, North Africa and all of Europe, their march seemed unstoppable. The grey-green uniforms of the Wehrmacht were most prominent in the mingling crowd along with the imposing uniforms of the SS. Also interspersed, some clandestine individuals could be identified, dressed in civilian clothing; these were the Gestapo, a sinister reminder that the state relied upon informants and subterfuge to ensure its security.

  Girl friends and wives whispered words of endearment to their departing loved ones, adding a kaleidoscope of colour to the huge morning throng. Despite the deprivation of over two years of war, glamour was evident, eliciting long lingering looks from youthful faces departing for foreign fields to contest and conquer for the Führer and fatherland. The great train engines idled on the tracks in anticipation, whistles blew, steam hissed, guttural orders were shouted, drivers and helpers moved quickly to ascend these black monsters bound for various outposts of the expanding Reich.

  On another platform, unknown to the vast majority boarding the trains to specific destinations, there were several hundred Jews under heavy armed security being herded into a train. Unlike subsequent freight trains which were used for the transportation of Jews, passenger trains were sometimes used from Hauptbahnhof, departing according to normal timetables. Their journey would end in a death camp.

  Platform six was the departing point for the city of occupied Paris. The loudspeaker system crackled, announcing ‘Der Zug nach Paris faerht ab in 15 minuten von Gleis 6, Heil Hitler.’ An anticipated journey time of approximately fifteen hours was scheduled to travel the 600 miles. Interruptions were anticipated because of Allied aircraft, stops would be made in tunnels to ensure safety. Germany had proudly held the world rail record of one hundred and twenty-five miles per hour in July 1936 and it was this enormous train that had achieved the impressive milestone which was now about to depart for Paris. The giant bl
ack engine was a marvel of engineering. It weighed over one hundred and sixty tonnes and on this journey, would use thousands of tonnes of coal and twelve thousand gallons of water. The crew of drivers and firemen would work flat-out in shifts of three hours each to keep the monolith at a cruising speed of eighty miles per hour.

  The train boasted forty five carriages, made up of two gun carriages front and rear with anti-aircraft and machine gun mounts. The front carriages had accommodation above average to facilitate officer rank and travelling officials. Walnut panelling, brass fitting and cushioned upholstery added to comfort levels, and a small kitchen ensured culinary satisfaction en route.

  The remaining forty carriages were made up of troop carriers and freight cars. Externally, all carriages were camouflaged with blackout facilities on all windows when required to avoid aerial attack. Marie Krantz and her young daughter Anna, climbed on board the first carriage behind the massive steam engine into the luxurious reserved areas and settled into the comfortable seating. The rail officials, who had assisted them with their luggage, were particularly deferential to them knowing that they were the sister and niece of the SS Chief Reinhardt Heydrich. One of the porters, being very deferential to ensure everything went well, said ‘Wenn sie, auf der Fahrt etwas brauchen wenden Sie sich bitte an den Zugbegleiter. Er hat Anweisungen Ihre Wunsche zu erfullen!’ ‘If you require anything on route, just ask the guard. He has orders to look after you’.

  Anna was very excited. It was her first time on a train and she had heard and often listened to her mother extol the attractions of Paris. She had been born before the foundation of the Lebensborn (font of life) homes, but had enrolled and benefitted from them as she grew up. Her birth followed her mother Maria’s liaison with an SS officer who no longer had any involvement in her life. She was Maria’s only child and her surname was recorded as ‘Krantz’ to reflect and honour her maternal grandmother. Lebensborn children were racially pure, and were privileged in the philosophy of the Third Reich. They were children for the Führer, whose mothers had received awards for exemplary service to the Fatherland. In addition, Anna had received many advantages from this background, entering the Jungemadel, training for girls aged between ten to fourteen years, which was an exclusive education for the privileged young people of the Third Reich. This was also preparation to enter the league of German Girls, Bund Deutscher Madel, which was a reflection of the Hitler Youth and instructed them to avoid Rassenschande, defilement of the race. She had won an award for her violin expertise and her photo had appeared in the Volkischer Beobachter, the paper published by the State. As the massive train slowly pulled away from the teeming station, Anna gripped her violin protectively and thought about the piece she would play for her uncle Rheini; she was so looking forward to seeing him in Paris. He was her mentor and inspiration.

  At that moment, in an equally early summer morning, Heydrich's JU52 plane was landing at Orly airport outside Paris, watched by an SS welcoming guard of honour, lined up in precise military formation in ceremonial uniforms awaiting inspection by their chief.

  SIX

  PARIS: 1942

  The early morning Parisian sun glinted on the wings of the large three- engine Junkers JU 52 aircraft, nicknamed ‘Iron Annie’, as it taxied to a halt on the airfield outside the city. Heydrich used this airplane as it was a model that was favoured and approved by the Führer himself. As he alighted from the high fuselage after a three-hour flight from Prague, he could see the SS guard of honour waiting on the tarmac to greet him. All of the Nazi elite hierarchy in Paris had turned out this May morning to welcome their superior SS General. First in line was SS Brigadefuhrer, (General Major) Karl Oberg who owed his allegiance and his job to Heydrich. He was head of all German police forces in France including the Gestapo. Beside him stood twenty nine year old Theodor Dannecker, SS Hauptsturmführer (Captain), who was responsible for overseeing French police roundups. Also in the welcoming line up, was thirty two year old Helmut Knochen, responsible for the activities of the Sicherheitpolizei (security police) in Paris. The remaining twenty uniformed SS in the honour guard were all fanatically loyal and stood to attention in rigid role as Heydrich passed in front of them, making contact with his piercing blue grey eyes. On the flight from Prague, he had already carried out a huge workload. A total workaholic, he thought nothing of a sixteen hour day and he used all the modern business aids of the time such as Dictaphones and radio receivers. He had also brought with him orders to accelerate Reich policies which were proving so successful in Prague.

  His official mission to Paris was to advise his staff of his new promotion whereby the military would be answerable to the police and SS authorities from now on. He also intended to hasten the implementation of measures to commence the final solution of the Jewish problem in France. These were policies agreed at the Wannsee Conference the previous January and in addition, he intended to dispatch a million French workers to Germany to work in war industries.

  The open top staff car that drove him to the Gestapo headquarters at 84 Avenue Foch was escorted by six vehicles filled with heavily armed SS Officers. All of these transport carriers were emblazoned with swastika flags and as they swept along the city highways, they invoked furtive glances from oppressed Parisians, who were filled with fearful trepidation of further hardship to come and indure. As they drove along, the evidence of German occupation was everywhere. They passed a building occupied by the Todt organisation which was responsible for operating the slave labour camps in Germany. The Deutsches Soldintenkino, a cinema for German Soldiers only, could also be seen. Long lines of people queued outside food shops for bread and other necessities. As they passed the Ritz Hotel in Place Vendome, Europe’s finest hostelry where Heydrich would later enjoy leisurely evenings, he remarked on the magnificent statue of Napoleon on a nearby column celebrating the Austerlitz victory in 1805, “He should be replaced with our Führer as the German victories will surpass Napoleon’s”.

  The entourage finally entered the impressive wide avenue housing the sequestered Gestapo headquarters building which was draped in the swastika banners. This magnificent boulevard in the 16th arrondissement displayed 19th century mansions once populated by noble and elite French society, la plus haute sociétée, who had fled from the German occupation and forthcoming terror. Some had remained, misguidedly thinking that they were wealthy and highly connected enough to avoid deportation. One such high-minded female socialite who stayed and collaborated was heard to say, ‘Mon Coeur est Français mais mon cul est internationale.’ (My heart is French but my ass is international!)

  Heydrich’s boots made a commanding sound, announcing his arrival as he ascended the entrance steps. On reaching the fourth floor landing which was adorned by a huge red and black swastika banner draping from the high domed glass atrium overhead, he nodded approvingly at the bust of his Führer, Adolf Hitler, which was on a marble tripod, surveying all from unseeing eyes. This was the floor where SS Major Josef Kieffer had his office and quarters, a ‘career’ torturer and killer. Many captured SAS personnel and SOE (special operation executive) agents were held here to extract information on Allied activities. They were brought here from Fresnes prison south of Paris and subjected to horrendous interrogation. These were patriots who followed Churchill’s instructions ‘’to set Europe ablaze’’. Their missions and identities were often compromised and disclosed to the Gestapo by informers, profiteers and collaborators. Lives were often forfeited in exchange for black market goods and shameful ingratiating with the Germans.

  When he had entered the building, the atmosphere stiffened appreciably. The various uniformed staff throughout the large premises had noticeably straightened postures and the salutes with the outstretched right arms were more extended. As he turned to his accompanying retinue, he requested, in his unusually high-pitched voice, that the updated files on all Jewish holdings and assets in the Paris area, be made available to him immediately. He referred to his telephone call from Prague days before w
hen he had specifically demanded details of the holdings of the Darius family marked on the file KR-PA JD. He was escorted through large double mahogany doors that revealed a bright sunlit room that would be his office until the 11th of May, the duration of his stay in Paris. It was from this building that the administration of the deportation of the French Jews was taking place.

  He sat down behind the oversized walnut inlaid desk and absentmindedly ignored the statutory photo of Hitler, which was to be found in all state offices and departments. When the bulky file on the Darius family was proffered to him by a nervous orderly, he waved him away and indicated that he wanted total privacy. The Reich government had decreed on November 12th, 1938, the elimination of all Jews from economic life. Opening the folder, he noted that the business of the Darius family was marked ‘Kleig’ which effectively meant that their production was regarded as an essential part of the German war effort, exempting them from these restrictions. Absorbing the contents of the detailed file, he familiarised himself with the Darius family, Samuel and Flora together with their twin boys aged sixteen years, Emil and Maurice. The family was the sole operator of the uniform manufacturing business named Scherinfabrik. This was the second generation of these Jews to have operated the profitable business and for the past two years since the German occupation they had enjoyed protected status. Continuing his perusal of the file, he noted that the family had many millions of Francs in the Chase Bank in Paris which had been accumulated over a twenty year period, and he also noted that the account was in the control of the father Samuel. Reading on, he noted that one of the twin boys, Emil, was a talented violinist and that he had won various competitions at a high level. He smiled cynically to himself and thought what a waste. Reaching for SS letter head, he began to draft an order which was to take immediate effect. A decree issued in 1938 required all Jews to register their assets in property, art and other valuables. Under the Reich Ownership Law of 1941, ownership of the property was to be extinguished from the Darius family. All machinery and other forms of production were to be transferred to a factory facility that did not employ Jewish labour and this transfer should ensure no loss of output to the needs and requirements of the Third Reich. In addition, the Darius family and their twenty five Jewish employees were to be sent to Drancy camp in the northern suburb of Paris, which was a holding camp for final transportation to death in Auschwitz Birkenau, Southern Poland some weeks later.