A Right to Plunder

by Brendan O'Neill

  Her stomach churned as she struggled with the dilemma. She decided to go immediately to the school and collect Anna. As she walked towards the school which was still functioning, less than half a mile from the apartment, the scurrying figures in the autumn sunshine assumed a sinister bearing. She became aware of the shadows in doorways, suddenly danger was everywhere. Conscripted workers for the armament industry mingled with Berliners. They were from every part of occupied Europe and as she walked along she could hear different dialects being spoken. There was still an air of defiance but the fear that gripped the city was fuelled by the rapacious Russian threat advancing from the East.

  News of the Allied advances in Normandy was overheard in muttered conversations. Newspapers proclaimed the trial of those responsible for the attempt on the Führer's life on 20th July under the Nazi judge Roland Friesler, President of the Peoples court, who screamed from the bench at the defendants. Chaos reigned. Contemplating her options, her mind racing, there was one person who kept coming to the forefront of her thoughts. She had not seen her for over two years, not since the state funeral of her brother, but she knew that Lina Heydrich was still revered by the SS. This was a chance she would have to take. The message referred to an ‘SS killer', but of the thousands in that organisation, the ones surrounding Lina would undoubtedly be the most loyal and fanatical to her brother's memory.

  Upon seeing Anna emerging from the school, she rushed to meet her with an expression of great relief. Returning back to the apartment, she urged Anna to hurry as they were going to catch a train to Prague. Anna was confused, but these were not normal times and silently she gathered some meagre personal possessions and with heightened anxiety they once again emerged onto the rubble strewn streets of Berlin.

  It was a cloudless late summer evening as they made their way to the bahnhof hoping for a seat on the much pressured rail system to bring them to Prague and to the refuge of her sister in law Lina Heydrich whom she had not seen for so long and whose sanctuary she now so desperately sought.

  TWENTY ONE

  PRAGUE: 1944

  In September 1944, Lina Heydrich was still mistress of the mansion and lands in Panenske, Brezany, twenty five miles north of Prague. Shortly after her husband’s assassination, she had given birth to their fourth child, a girl named Marte. Lina had stoically devoted herself to developing and improving the vast estate into parkland with the cultivation of orchards and intensive vegetable growing. All of these works were carried out by the inmates from the nearby concentration camp, Theresienstadt. This camp had been portrayed by the Nazis as a model Jewish settlement area for propaganda purposes. They had even fooled the visiting Red Cross by showing some of the inmates in a happy contented work environment. It was a camouflage, in reality it was a transit camp en route to extermination. These forced labourers were selected by Lina and were housed in barrack-like inhuman conditions and made to work fourteen to eighteen hour days under the armed supervision of the SS guards. Even the death by tragic accident of her ten-year-old son Klaus on the 24th October 1943 (killed by a lorry driver outside the gates of the mansion) had not shaken her resolve to turn the estate into a magnificent idyll. She continued to live the life of privilege, daily horse riding around the magnificent parkland estate as her husband Reinhardt had done before his death. In many ways, it was a ‘fools paradise’ as the inevitable advancing hordes from the east would soon consume and ravage everything.

  When the phone call came that summer afternoon from her sister-in-law, Maria, in Berlin, she was surprised at the urgency and distress in her voice. The static on the line was intermittent and she had difficulty in understanding the message between the gasps of panic. She had always liked Maria but felt that she never had the strength or resolve of her brother Reinhardt. “Calm down Maria, Reinhardt had many enemies, it was a feature of his life and he must have done something to whoever wants to take revenge on you. His intelligence service was always a target for dissidents.’’ But the stricken voice from Berlin continued, “It’s been over two years since his death and never a threat until now. I do not understand. Why me, my life is in danger now for whatever reason and I am frightened for my daughter Anna. Everything here in Berlin is absolutely chaotic, the war is lost, but still we are exhorted to fight and we are expected to survive on scraps of food which are rationed. Why don’t they end this nightmare and settle a peace with the allies? Everyone is terrified that the Russians will get here and worse horrors will visit us. We have accepted all the hardships imposed for the greater good of Germany and a better future, but now we are confronted by despair and destruction’’.

  Lina listened to the frantic voice for a further couple of minutes before interrupting the monologue. She made an instant decision. “You must come here to Prague with Anna and stay with me where you will both be safe. In the meantime, I will make enquiries to find out the source of this threat”. The rest of the conversation was taken up with details of how they would travel from Berlin to Prague and Maria said that she would leave immediately. Mixed with the anxiety was the feeling of relief that refuge in Prague was available for them both. It seemed their best and only option.

  The bombing of the city of Berlin by the Royal Air Force had devastated the once proud capital of National Socialism, which only five years previously had witnessed the triumphal marches and processions, when, returning from the conquest of France, the Führer's path was strewn with flowers. It had then seemed that Germany would rule the world. Now, as they hurriedly picked their path through street debris, the background scene was one of still-smouldering buildings from firebombing the previous night. The once proud city was now full of young and old pushing their pathetic overloaded handcarts with salvaged possessions seeking elusive refuge. She had told Anna that they were leaving Berlin to visit her Aunt Lina for a long holiday, to escape the chaotic carnage that was in the city. As they were making their way to the bahnhof, which also served as a bunker and rail exit to the south, Maria silently wondered at the throng of obviously Jewish deportees being herded by guards onto trains. The station master was a burly individual in an ill-fitting tunic type uniform with a peaked cap. She proffered her papers for examination ‘Where are all these people going?’ She enquired. ‘’Theresienstadt camp in Bohemia Moravia’’ he replied. ‘They will be in separate carriages coupled onto the main train. Your papers are in order so you will travel by yourselves in a passenger carriage’’. Her papers disclosed that she was a party member and his tone, while still brisk, became friendly. ‘These Jews will work for our greater Reich when they arrive; those who are unable will be moved on to the east.’’ She was not to know at the time but some Jews on the same train would end up as slave labour on Lina Heydrich’s estate. ‘Where is your final destination?’. The Guard enquired.

  She searched in her pocket for the piece of paper where she'd written Lina's address and details. It was missing. In her haste to leave the apartment, it had fallen to the floor where it would be retrieved soon afterwards by Alois Brunner.

  TWENTY TWO

  PARIS: 1944

  The tall blonde figure of Madelaine, wearing a casual dress, stood proudly in front of the small group of six youthful French Resistants. She had gained their respect and admiration for her indefatigable determination and courage to end the enslavement of the hated Bosch occupier. The room, which had been their clandestine meeting place for the past two years, was heavy with tobacco smoke. At the rear of the sidewalk café with a concealed entrance, it proved to be an excellent choice. Thankfully, their regular meetings had never been disturbed by the enemy, and as time went on, the group bonded with unquestioning singular loyalty to each other. This meeting in late September was to be their final one as a group, after which they intended to disband and resume normal civilian duties. It should have been a celebration and a cause of great joy mixed with relief that Paris had finally been liberated on Friday 25th August, but as Madelaine looked about her, the faces were tired and exhausted. With a voice ful
l of emotion she began to address the small gathering.

  “Our battle has been bloody and prolonged. You have manned barricades in street battles recently, you have disrupted the Bosch at every opportunity and you have all paid a high price to free our enslaved Marianne”. She reminded them that France is at the forefront of this fight against tyranny and the honour of the resistance will forever be carved in the annals of heroism. She went on say, we were true to the order “‘Aux armes, Citoyens (Citizens, to arms), we have risen to the challenge’, and quoting the inspirational words of Georges Clemenceau, who was Prime Minister of France during WW1 ‘’In war as in peace, those who never give up have the last word”. She looked around at her brave colleagues. “We all know friends and relations who suffered interrogation and torture at the hands of the Gestapo in 84 Avenue Foch or in Rue de Saussienses and other places. Some of these were the result of various actions but some were due to traitorous collaborators. These criminals and denouncers will be dealt summary justice by our courts. With the freedom of France comes also the liberation of our anger’’.

  Madelaine sighed and paused to catch her breath. “As I stand before you this evening, it is with a heavy heart that I report to you that in the month of August alone, over 2,500 Parisians have died in the last throes of the German occupation of our great city. But they will pay for their crimes against us. Even as I speak, the foreign press are being given a tour of the Gestapo buildings and torture chambers where acts of treachery will be found and the culprits ruthlessly hunted down”. Continuing, “We have all heard the speech of de Gaulle from the Rue Saint Dominique, when he said, France returns to Paris, to her home. She returns bloody but quite resolute. She returns there enlightened by the immense lesson, but more certain than ever of her duty and rights’’. Nods of approval and table slapping accompanied this assertion as they endorsed Madelaine’s statement.

  “We have all seen the women and the shaven heads of those who chose to fraternise with the German occupiers. Our individual focus for the immediate future should be to seek out and expose all collaborators and then deal them summary justice, for they impeded our cause and cost the lives of many of our colleagues. These informers and traitors have no place in the renewed France’’. Allez, Allez, Vive la France! Vive la republique!. ‘’They will be hunted down and the lives lost who were our friends will be revenged’’. More applause and determined expressions signalled the seriousness of their intent. Madelaine went on, “I have retired my position in Chase Bank; it has served its purpose for me and thankfully my true feelings and loyalty were never uncovered. The Bank and its American directors have arms dripping in blood from the pig troughs where they have been gorging for the past number of years. I will see to it that the international press will be informed of their odious support for the plundering Bosch. They will stand indicted and exposed for their forfeiture of all moral values in their quest for enhanced profitability’’.

  The Parisian population no longer scurried furtively along the shadowy streets it was now a casual sauntering. Small row boats appeared on the Seine, artists once more set up their easels on the river bank and bookstores once again became places to browse. Paris, emerging again became an icon of fashion. Coco Chanel, renowned for her designs and perfumery, descended from her eyrie in the Ritz Hotel having avoided the hardships of the occupation with her German lover Baron Von Dincklage. She went to live in Switzerland avoiding scrutiny into her wartime role, but her influence on creative fashion and perfumes was still formidable. She was fortunate not to be charged as a collaborator and suffer the indignity of a shaven head as her pro-German views and anti-Semitism were widely acknowledged. The ‘Tondeurs’ (head shavers) sought out and heaped indignity upon women tainted with a German liaison. She was also suspected, with good cause, of being an agent of German intelligence.

  The famous horse race, the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, first run in 1920 but cancelled in 1939 and 1940 would once more become a feature of Paris life. The city was shedding the shame of capitulation but its remnants were still evident in rationing for some essential food supplies. There was also a marked dichotomy between the clientele who visited the re-opened hotels and restaurants with members of the so-called ‘international society' returning to Paris seeking opportunities not accessible to the locals who were demoralized by the occupation. Clocks which had been set to German time in June 1940 were now returned to French time. Street signs in German were removed and French signage restored to cinemas, museums and public buildings.

  Madelaine then decided to ask her group to say a little prayer in thanksgiving for the freedom that her beloved France was once again enjoying. She was still a practicing Catholic even though her parents had, during the war developed Socialist leanings. She was upset and disappointed that The Vatican failed to offer any realistic opposition to the evils of the Third Reich. She knew from talk in SS circles that the Pope had sent greetings and good wishes to Adolf Hitler every year on his birthday, 20th April. She could not find in her heart any justification for this action. The stance of Pius X11 in his Episcopal declaration ‘Ad Maiora Mala Vitanda’ (To Avoid Worse), she found to be weak-willed and devoid of condemnation of the persecution. She felt betrayed by the lack of reaction to the humiliations constantly heaped upon the Catholic Church. The worlds press was finally exposing the atrocities of the Germans with evidence and proof of the genocide perpetuated reaching floodlike capacity. She had waited for the vicar of Christ on earth, who was the moral guardian of a billion Catholics to decry and denounce this evil in the strongest possible manner, but the response was a ‘Pontius Pilate’ like feeble gesture of no consequence. She had waited for the reaction of revulsion, but only silence ensued.

  She had one last mission to complete and said that she would call upon a member of the group who had espionage experience to assist her. She had in mind the pursuit of Alois Brunner whom she knew had been called to Hungary to hasten the evacuation of European Jews. What she did not know, was that as she was finishing her talk to the group, Brunner had made his way across the rubble-strewn streets of Berlin and at that moment, was looking at the discarded piece of paper with Lina Heydrichs address that had slipped from the hand of Maria Krantz.

  TWENTY THREE

  HAMBURG: 1945

  When Major Jim Herrin of the British occupation force handed his violin to Anna on that balmy September evening, he had no expectations to hear a quality performance. Watching and listening intently, he was amazed. Before the war, the Major had played the violin and other instruments in a swing band in the south of England. He was proud of his musical appreciation and ability and he was very enthusiastic about the new post-war trends and sound that were emerging, particularly from America.

  It was the coming era of the big band movement and new crazes were sweeping across the continent. He watched her as she played. It was a classical piece from Mozart which he recognised instantly. It was from the comic opera Bastien und Bastienne, a favourite of her Uncle ‘Rheini’. He had taught her by example how to introduce the emotion and passion into the music. Jim also knew that it was a most difficult choice to select if she was trying to impress him. As she played, she was totally immersed in the music and was oblivious to her surroundings, lost in the strain of sound. Anna had played this piece many times and had achieved perfection in its pitch and delivery with total confidence. The room was reverberating to the glorious musical interpretations of the Mozart score. Attracted by the quality of the sound, other soldiers came silently unseen and stood behind her unnoticed as she rapturously continued her playing. Few in the spell-bound audience realised that Jews had been forbidden to perform works by Mozart and Strauss. Anna was not to know that some of the great musical compositions written and interpreted by Jews were censored and banned by the Reichmusikkammer. Meanwhile, Hans watched her from the corner with a satisfied look on his face as if to say ‘I told you she was good’. Her long blond hair was tied back loosely and revealed an angular face that hinted at
a promising late adolescent beauty. She wore a pretty pink dress with fashionable puff sleeves that a neighbour had given her. Her tall, thin frame made her look older than her teenage years and she moved in unison and perfect harmony with the beautiful music she was playing.

  Sitting on his wooden chair behind the makeshift desk, Major Jim felt that he was witnessing a star being born. He regarded himself as being a violinist of reasonable accomplishment but the standard he was now witnessing was beyond his capabilities; the strains he was hearing were of a superior class. Adding to the enchantment, the fading sunlight struggling through the window captured the radiance of her blonde hair and as she finished, a shy smile flickered on her features. There was complete silence and then an eruption of applause and cheers from the assembled gathering. Jim was first over to her and expressed his delight and appreciation at her wonderful talent.