Heydrich’s coffin was moved and placed on a flower laden plinth at one of the main gates of Hradcany Castle between monumental torches and an eight-man SS Honour Guard for the people of Prague to pay their respects. The terror that the Germans would unleash as reprisal, had not yet begun, but the atmosphere of acute anxiety in the city was palpable. On the 9th of June, the train bearing his remains arrived in Berlin and the official funeral ceremony took place in the huge building of the mosaic hall of the new Reichancellery, just south of the Brandenburg Gate, attended by over one thousand dignitaries and SS officers. The Führer gave the keynote oration describing Heydrich as one of the greatest of all Nationalist Socialists: “The man with the iron heart, he has fallen as a martyr to the cause of the preservation and security of the Reich.” The coffin was transported on a gun carriage through the streets of Berlin, thronged with the populace giving the right arm salute in final farewell and a formation of aircraft flew low overhead.
A distraught Anna held her mother’s hand as the funeral cortege of her beloved uncle Rheini made its solemn journey through the Berlin streets. Seated in a military Mercedes staff car, she was fascinated by the pomp and the ceremony of the occasion. The uniforms and flags together with the muffled drum beats would be something she would remember for the rest of her life. She had watched as the Führer himself had awarded and attached to the flag draped coffin “the greatest and highest decorative medal of the German order”. She had looked forward to the visit of her uncle and the promised evening at the musical concert. He had played the violin with such sensitivity and passion and he had given her a love of the instrument, so she wanted to show him how good she had become and the new scores she was learning. Her mother was stoic throughout the ceremony and she was at all times surrounded by uniformed military and SS officers who proffered their condolences. Occasionally, she squeezed her hand reassuringly but the overall atmosphere of tension throughout was inescapable. The high ranking military wondered privately how this could happen and while vowing revenge, they intended to copper fasten their own security.
He was buried in the Invaliden Cemetery in Berlin next to the famous Prussian military general, Scharnhorst. Selective terror was to follow Heydrich’s interment; the city of Prague was subjected to multiple executions. The city became a killing ground for the Germans’ blood lust to find the assassins, unbridled terror was threatened on anyone sheltering or aiding the culprits and rewards were offered for information.
As Anna and Maria watched his coffin being lowered into the grave in Berlin, a harsh voice from a loudspeaker system in far off Drancy Camp in a Northern suburb of Paris, was ordering yet another roll call.
THIRTEEN
DRANCY: 1942
Over one month into the appalling conditions within the camp, the once robust Darius family were reduced to skeletal reflections of their past selves. Each day Samuel, Flora and Maurice struggled to make the inspection time for roll call in the steaming heat. Emil remained in the corner. He was a non-person and not missed. Rumours were rife throughout the camp that a train to transport them to the east was imminent. The virus of despair contaminated everyone in Drancy. The human spirit was already suffocated and extinguished.
It was early in the morning of the fifth week of the incarceration of the Darius family that Madelaine Bridon arrived at the main gate of the large five-storey U-shaped building that was Drancy holding camp. The camp was originally designed to hold 700 people but it now overflowed with closer to 7,000 wretched human lives. She carried with her a black travel bag that contained some papers and documents from Chase Bank, as an added insurance, in the event of awkward questions. In addition, she had some food and clothes for the Darius family.
The French guards at the gate were indifferent at the early hour as she approached. They were awaiting the new shift to come on after another night of witnessing the squalor and misery of restless humanity. With a cursory glance at her impeccable documentation, she was waved through the gates. Crossing the large courtyard, filled with the now silent throng, she observed the apathy and despair that shrouded the huddled groups. The summer heat had added to their plight and light clothing did not repel the coldness of the nights. As she approached the area of the courtyard that had a sign Bereich Eintragen ‘enlisting area’, she had to bring a handkerchief to her mouth to guard against the smell of human vomit and excrement that was everywhere. An occasional ragged child had attempted to attract her attention with outstretched arms but her short walk was met largely with indifference at that early hour from the men and women drained of spirit and awaiting their fate with resignation. She had seen the rail cattle cars standing ominously awaiting their human cargo, which would be used for the few days of the nightmare journey to Auschwitz, crammed with hundreds of people heading for extinction.
She arrived at the enlisting and registration Section, on the ground floor of the multi-storied building, sectioned off with four French guards seated inside, carefully sorting a large Hollerith, IBM Machine punch card system. Madelaine had a haughty disdain for these Frenchmen who subjugated themselves to their German masters and had earned a reputation for excessive brutality against their unfortunate Jewish countrymen and families. Proffering her documentation, she summarily demanded to see the card index roll call for the Darius family and for them to be brought to her. The response was immediate; German efficiency had percolated through the camp administration system and quickly she was given the family details. The card recorded each roll call made during the past five weeks and the names of the family members who presented themselves. The card read “Samuel, Flora and Maurice”, There was no Emil.
Shortly afterwards, Samuel was woken from his fitful sleep by a gentle shake on the shoulder from one of the detainees who shared the corner that had been his home for the last five weeks. “The guards are calling for you and your family Samuel they want you to report to the enlisting area”. Terror struck at Samuel’s heart. His reaction was that the authorities had noted the absence of Emil from the roll calls, and he knew that exposure for this evasion was instant death by an execution squad for all his family. Hardly able to stand, he coaxed Flora to her feet and without any word being spoken, they gathered up Maurice in a drowsy state and with heavy hearts they shuffled towards the enlisting area, where he was certain that death awaited. It must have been his constant invocation of the Torah psalms that intervened in his thinking at that defining moment, but he left Emil behind sleeping peacefully on his violin case.
Madelaine had distanced herself from the enlisting area by a few feet while awaiting the arrival of the Darius family. She did not wish to engage in a conversation with the French Guards whom she despised, and she assumed an indifferent authoritative pose that would deflect any attempts to enquire as to her intentions. In any case, she observed that they were totally focused on updating their punch card system as the morning roll call was imminent. With her fluency in German and posing with her haughtiest and arrogant manner, they were intimidated and deferential to her.
After what seemed like an age, she saw a middle-aged man and wife approach with their young son, holding hands. Their dishevelled and wanton appearance belied their ages. As they got nearer, she could see the abject misery in their brown eyes. The spark of life seemed already to be extinguished, only the young boy showed a flash of defiance. She guided them away from the immediate area of the guard’s environment and sat them down against a wall. Opening her travel bag, she gave them food and some items of clean clothing. Samuel’s response was guarded. This was totally unexpected and he wondered at the motive. This blonde young lady was like a dream angel, but there were no angels in Drancy, only devils. Tasting the food, he began to return to a level where he could observe what was happening. She was first to speak. In a hushed voice, she introduced herself as someone who was there to help them. She told them she knew all about their clothing manufacturing business, Schrinfabrik, and how they had been dispossessed of all their possessions. She knew when th
ey had arrived in the camp and that they were destined to go on a train to the East. When she enquired as to where Emil was, Samuel’s heart sank once more. What was he to say? He thought she must be a German agent. He thought he would say that Emil unintentionally missed the roll call and that he was too weak, but then, nothing made sense any more. She seemed well disposed towards him and his family and her kindness with food and clothes was tangible. He began to ask her questions: how did she know so much about him; how did she know he had twin boys? A million questions entered his head, but exhausted, he barely cared any more.
“Where is Emil?” she repeated. Samuel was barely audible in his reply. “He is back at our little corner at the far end of the courtyard”. It was said like a confession and he expected swift retribution. Her reaction was very positive and surprised him. “You must show me where he is and bring me to him, also do not arouse any suspicions with the guards, we don’t have much time. Even though they are French, they are low types and are obeying their German masters’’. Slowly, she helped him and Flora to their feet and with Maurice following, they went to where Emil was sleeping in the corner surrounded by filth, which had been his home for the past five weeks.
When Madelaine knelt down beside the very thin boyish figure of Emil Darius, she knew by his pallor and listlessness that he was in need of immediate medical attention. He showed no interest in her, he had a vicelike grip on his violin case which he clung to as if his very life depended on its retention. She spoke softly to him in French, her words attempting to introduce a level of comfort to this corner of anguish and despair. Gaining the confidence of Samuel, his initial distrust had transformed into accepting her as a bizarre but benign figure, she knew that he was desperately trying to protect Emil from the train transportation to whatever unknown hell was awaiting them in the east. He had no plan other than the animal instinct to hide his weakest son from harm.
Desperately, she faced Samuel and said that she would have to act right now, and he would have to trust her to save Emil. In despair, he squeezed her arm as a sign of affirmation. Flora’s motherly instincts were in turmoil. She knew their situation was hopeless and yet she despaired of losing her beloved Emil whom she loved equally with his twin Maurice and the musical gifts she had thought him together with the ambition she secretly cherished for him. Gathering up Emil, who still clung to his violin case, Madelaine embraced Samuel, Flora and Maurice, who in silence stood helplessly for what they knew was to be their last farewell to Emil. Not understanding what was happening and too weak to care, Emil held her hand and without a backward glance, they walked towards the far off gate that would lead to freedom from the hell of Drancy.
The small black leather satchel she always carried with her contained her identity papers and also some letterhead and card literature from Chase Bank. Even as she extracted from the bag a folded leather type card with the Bank’s address and authoritative stamp on the top, her hurried plan was still forming in her mind. She had learned in the Resistance that there was in the new German laws a descriptive term to denote a person as having partial Jewish ancestry. This term was called mischling and any person having this status was automatically provided with a German blood certificate which allowed exemption from Germany’s racial laws. She wrote in German “Emil Darius has the status of mischling in accordance with Nuremberg Law of 1935. His date of birth is 8th October 1926. Family tree is in accordance with blood certificate approved by the Reich Sicherheitpolizie in 1941. He is presently under the protection of the SS through the official office of the Chase Bank Paris”. Her hand shook as she wrote the short statement. She gambled on the fact that the camp official who would peruse the folded letter card would be satisfied once he saw the German eagle underneath the forged signature of Carlos Niedermann, which she copied accurately from memory. Also, she had to make sure that the official in question would be French and would not know that as fact, each application for the coveted status of mischling was vetted personally by Hitler himself, who was the ultimate decision maker in the approval process. This was a German attempt to safeguard the purity of race. A mischling of the first degree category would be sterilised but would escape execution.
The humid smell of humanity followed their progress and she carefully detoured away from guards who seemed to be everywhere. Her head pounded rhythms that made it difficult for her to breath. The unlikely pair traced an erratic path towards the open part of the courtyard which was her original entry point. Quickening her pace, she approached a small side gate beside the main entrance which was now taken up by six or seven officious looking guards. They were obviously expecting further arrivals into the already swollen camp. A further small gate to the side had only one guard in French police uniform guarding it and she made a purposeful stride directly to him. He was surprised by her sudden appearance and she caught his eye directly which was a good two inches shorter than her own height. He spoke to her in French telling her to go back within the courtyard. Summoning all the authoritative energy she could muster for this situation, she replied in German, quickly producing the camp entry card she had stamped on arrival. He carefully scrutinised this document which gave her name, address and time of entry. Without giving him further time to question, she once again spoke in German and imperiously told him she was on Reich business and from her satchel, extracted the Chase Bank authorisation with the SS symbol, confirming that the boy was a mischling. When the guard spoke again after what seemed an indeterminable length of time, he spoke in German with a heavy French accent, and seemed unsure of what to do next. Madelaine seized her opportunity and said it was not prudent to question the instructions of the German authorities as she herself had met Obergruppenführer Heydrich in Chase Bank only a short time ago. The guard stiffened noticeably and turned slowly to slide across the heavy bolt that locked the small gate. Apologising for causing delay, he handed her back the documentation and she and Emil stepped through the exit gate of Drancy to a sort of freedom but still in occupied France. As they quickened their walk away from the gate, she could hear the harsh address for the morning roll call. Shortly afterwards, they were walking past the railway siding at Bobigny where a train was pulling in, towing a long line of freight boxcars, not even suitable for transporting animals. She knew that these would soon be crammed with inmates of Drancy bound for the east with the remaining Darius family on board. She put her arm protectively around Emil’s shoulder and speaking in a reassuring low French voice, she told him that they would be in a safe house within the hour as her resistance colleagues had already plotted his escape route.
FOURTEEN
HAMBURG: 1945
Anna Krantz was embracing her new life and surroundings. Five months had elapsed since her horrific ordeal and only now was she shedding her fears, trepidation and questioning concerns. Her self-appointed guardian, Hans, had demonstrated a cautious approach to her anxieties and dilemma and with the maturity of his sixty four years of age, most of which he had spent in the city of Hamburg in civic duty, he encouraged her emergence from trauma without searching questions. Hans was a quiet man of composed and tranquil disposition. He came to view Anna as the daughter he never had and often in silent Lutheran prayer gave thanks for her deliverance.
It had taken over three weeks before she uttered a single word but slowly she began to communicate in small ways by her gestures and assisting in basic household chores. Hans never pried into her background, but he noted that when she spoke, it was with a cultured Berlin accent and her manners and composure reflected a high level of standards and education. Each day, Hans left the small but comfortable three roomed dwelling and reported for duty to his fire brigade which was now under Allied control, following the surrender of the city on April 3rd. 1945 to British forces.
The witch-hunt for SS personnel which followed the aftermath of the defeat of the Third Reich left him untouched. In fact, the British soldiers and officer class treated him and the few civic-worker survivors of the Hamburg fire-bombing with courte
sy and also a level of sympathy for the nightmare conditions they had endured. The British were particularly familiar with the destruction caused. It was under their code name ‘Gomorrah’, shortly before midnight on the 27th July 1943, that allied forces attacked the city of Hamburg, deploying 739 aircraft. The resulting firestorm incinerated eight square miles and resulted in over 50,000 deaths and one million people homeless. Germany’s largest port and harbour was effectively wiped off the map of Europe that night. The RAF had used ‘pathfinders’ to drop strips of tinfoil to obstruct German radar defences. This strategy was most effective and enabled specific targets to be identified leaving the city completely vulnerable. Hans was fortunate to survive. His small dwelling was located in the administrative district of Altona on the right bank of the Elbe River. Although the area was heavily bombed for months on end, it had remained intact with skeletal buildings overhead and destruction all around. He was stoic in his outlook and each time he surveyed his once beautiful historic city lying in ruins, he silently cursed the political gangsters that led Germany to its precipitous demise. Being a religious man, he gave thanks to the greater deity for not having a wife and family at this time of desolation.
‘Operation Plunder’ was the code name given to the military force under Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, which successfully crossed the river Rhine and paved the way for advancement into Germany’s heartland. The British 8th army was to take over control in Hamburg and set up local information centres known as Die Brucke (the bridge) which was to foster and assist personal relationships and influence goodwill. The British officer, to whom he now reported on a daily basis, was fraternal in his attitude once he was satisfied that the background career documentation supplied by Hans was authentic. Extra rations were given to him to supplement the basic necessities for himself and Anna. The Allied authorities had recorded in their register that Hans was the temporary guardian of a displaced child of unknown German origin. He was required to supply all necessary information requested from time to time in relation to her welfare and upbringing. This was a burden willingly passed from the Allied administrators based in Altona. It was an area of Hamburg housing a major railway station and a network in transit through Northern Germany and beyond, witnessing the discharging of all levels of humanity emerging from the ruins of the Reich.
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