The Austrian: A War Criminal's Story

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The Austrian: A War Criminal's Story Page 9

by Ellie Midwood


  She swallowed uncomfortably.

  “Yes, it is. Papa’s very proud of it. It’s been tough of course with the shortage of food in the country last year, and with the rise of the taxes and all the retributions, but he took up double amount of work, and we managed to save some money. He hasn’t slept for more than four hours a night for the past year, and he only rests on Shabbats. It took a lot out of him, but he said he would do anything for us to always have food on the table.”

  I went quiet, my father’s sarcastic remarks rising in my mind again. ‘Of course Katzman made a lot of money. There wasn’t anybody else around to work! We were all rotting in the trenches, while he was grabbing all of our profit.’ I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my hand, trying to get rid of his voice. The Katzmans were the ones who would always invite me to their table and make sure I left it full. They were giving me baskets with fruit for my mother and brothers on holidays, and Dr. Katzman on several occasions asked me quietly, away from everybody’s ears so as not to embarrass me, if we needed anything. I never took money from him, even though he said that he’d lend it to us without any percentage, and for an indefinite time until we could get back on our feet.

  They weren’t bad people by all means. I grew to love their family as my second one, where I was always welcomed and treated like I was one of them. Yes, Dr. Katzman couldn’t fight in the front, but it wasn’t his fault after all. He could have been an Aryan and by some lucky chance had made all this money just like Alfred, my father’s friend, did. Him being Jewish didn’t make any difference, did it?

  “Ernst?” Dalia called me quietly. “Is there anything troubling you lately? You’re not yourself, and it saddens me seeing you like this. I wish you could talk to me about what’s bothering you…”

  “It’s nothing. I’m just tired from studying and working all the time, and I have to help my father with his office too… It’ll all be better when I come back after summer.”

  And here I was, back in town, but nothing got better as I so desperately wished it to get. Deep inside I hoped that after the work picked up in three months, my father would be so busy with his law practice that he would abandon his beer hall meetings. On the farm people only spoke of the harvest and their small needs; village gossip that had nothing to do with politics and the mood of the nation. Linz, upon my return, was bathing in a new wave of German nationalism and anti-Semitism, and I kept asking myself the same question walking towards Dalia’s house, how it is all going to work between us?

  I already knew that my father would never accept her as his daughter-in-law and would kick me out of the house as soon as I’d only mention such possibility. I should have left her that May and never come back to her house, to separate our ways and live my life without looking back… And yet I missed her so dearly, and it seemed that staying away from her only intensified my feelings toward her. But it was the moment when she opened the door for me and rushed to hug me, when I made up my mind.

  “Dalia, I want you to be my wife,” I said as soon as we entered her bedroom and I took her hands in mine. “I know that we will have to wait two more years before we can get legally married, and I can’t yet afford a ring for you either, but I just want you to know that I want to spend my life with you. I love you, Dalia. Will you marry me?”

  I didn’t plan to say any of this, but seeing her pretty face, her smile, to hold her in my arms again, it turned out to be the most natural thing to say. Dalia gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. I felt how the other one, that I was still holding, became cold and started trembling slightly.

  “Oh, Ernst… but you can’t be serious, can you?”

  “Of course I’m serious!”

  “But… we are still children… we are too young to get married… we still go to school!”

  “I know, I know!” I laughed at her almost frightened expression. “I’m not saying we’ll get married now, in two years, when I’m eighteen. We’ll be out of school by then.”

  “Out of school is all… Where are we going to live? How will we make a living? We can’t afford to start a family, especially now… Times are very tough… Where are we going to work with gymnasium education only? On some factory? But you can’t make any money with those jobs nowadays… We’ll starve to death…”

  “You don’t have to work,” I declared, more self-assured than ever. “I’ll work nightshifts and I’ll be attending university during the day, so I can land a better job in the future. You can just stay home and mind the house. It’ll be tough at first, but we’ll manage. I managed to provide for my family all this time, so I think I’ll be able to take care of you alone.”

  I smiled and winked at her, but she just sat tiredly on her bed and sighed. “And what are we going to do with our children?”

  “What do you mean what we’re going to do? We’ll be able to afford them, don’t worry. Worst case scenario, our parents will help us at first.”

  “Your father will never agree to that.” Dalia said the one unspoken thing we had never discussed before. “He’ll never agree to a Jewish girl in his family. He won’t hear a word of it. He’ll disown you.”

  “So he says.” I dismissed her concerns with a wave of my hand. “They are all like that before they see their grandchildren. Right after they couldn’t care less who the mother is.”

  Dalia didn’t look persuaded. I sat next to her, not liking how serious she was.

  “I think he will care.” She glanced at me sternly. “I can’t raise them in any other religion but Judaism. They will be Jewish by law, have you thought of that? It is very unlikely that he will accept them.”

  “We can baptize them and they will be Christians.” I shrugged.

  This matter concerned me the least, as I was mostly thinking of our possible monetary problems. Religion was the least of my troubles. However, as it turned out, Dalia wasn’t of the same opinion.

  “I won’t allow baptizing of my children!” she exclaimed, surprising me greatly by the indignation written on her face. “I don’t want them to be Christians! I’m Jewish, and my children will be raised like Jews!”

  “Don’t you think that in current circumstances it would be wiser for them to be raised Christians?” I started carefully. “With all the current moods around… that would secure their safe future, don’t you agree?”

  “No, Ernst, I don’t agree. Jews have always been persecuted, since the most ancient times. If we converted to Christianity every time a new wave of anti-Semitism started, there wouldn’t be any Jews left. We’re proud of who we are and are ready to face all the challenges that fate will throw at us. But we won’t refuse our God. We were the first ones who accepted Him, and we will not deny His name in a time of turmoil and unrest.”

  “I love my God too, but I’m ready to forget about my religion and marry a girl of another faith. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

  “It means that you don’t love your God enough.”

  “Yes, I do, but I still love you more.” I was getting angry with her because I had to almost beg her to marry me when I expected her to simply say ‘yes’ and kiss me. “I am ready to face the anger of my father, maybe even renunciation, I am ready to be shunned by my church and to marry you in a civil ceremony. I am ready to give up everything I love for you. All I’m asking in return is for you to do the same for me. To hell with religion if it only divides us, let’s be atheists and raise our children atheists for all I care, it wouldn’t matter if we have each other, would it?”

  Dalia was far too quiet. I already knew what her answer would be, when she freed her hand from mine and clasped them on her lap.

  “Yes, Ernst, it would. To me it would. You’re asking too much of me. I can’t abandon my religion, even for you.”

  Her lower lip was slightly trembling when she muttered those words and wiped a tear from a corner of her eye. I looked at her in disbelief for several minutes, which seemed to drag for an eternity.

  “You knew it all along,” I said quie
tly and angrily at last. “Why were you toying with me then, if you knew that it would never lead anywhere?”

  “What are you saying?” Dalia raised her big black eyes, filled with tears, back to me. “I was never toying with you! My feelings for you were most sincere… I never thought that you would ask me that… I thought that it was just a childish affection from your side, and it would go away by itself, when you met somebody… suitable. I never thought of you as mine, even though I love you dearly…”

  I was looking her straight in the eye feeling mortally betrayed by someone who I had always trusted the most. I didn’t notice how I started laughing quietly and then out loud, at myself.

  “You are… such a liar,” I pronounced, separating every word. “They were right all along. You Jews… are all liars. Just tell me this, does it give you some perverted pleasure, to play with people’s feelings like this and then stab them in the back?”

  She was looking at me in horror with her mouth open.

  “Is that what you did during the war? You lured us into trusting you and then turned on us? We have lived in this land since the dawn of ages, we welcomed you here when the other countries decided to get rid of your rotten nation after learning of your true face, we treated you like equals, we allowed you to practice your religion, and that’s how you repay us? Why did you want me near all this time? To have convenient protection from others? And now that you’re all grown up and nobody threatens you anymore, you dispose of me? Or do you have another reason, besides your precious religion? If I had more money, would you say yes? I bet you would. I’m sorry that I’m as poor as a church mouse, that my father can’t afford a new car because he spent four years fighting for our country and protecting its people, who were making money on his misfortune.”

  “Ernst, what are you saying?!” She finally regained control of her voice and screamed her reproach at me, shaking under her shawl. “How can you even… I can’t believe what I am hearing from you! You know perfectly well that it’s not true! I always loved you! It’s those people, they taught you all this, didn’t they? I know you, you are a kind and gentle soul, you would never say something so hateful, it’s them speaking, not you. What have they done to you?”

  She tried to raise her palm to my unemotional face, but I caught her wrist before she could touch me and forced it back on her lap.

  “They taught me all the right things, Dalia. They opened my eyes, and I’m grateful that they did. I should have listened to my father from the very beginning, I should have never stepped up for you in the first place.” She was sobbing quietly when I rose from my place and turned to her before leaving. “I want to thank you as well, Dalia. I almost made a mistake, which would have probably ruined my life forever. I will make sure that I will never make it again.”

  _______________

  Nuremberg prison, December 1945

  I will make sure I never make this mistake again, to trust someone who uses my affection for them against me, I kept promising myself my whole life, and yet here I was, beaming with joy at the sight of the man waiting for me in the courtyard, where all of us, the highest ranking war criminals, took our scheduled walks. Only now it was just the two of us.

  “Agent Foster.” I couldn’t hide a smile, extending my hand to the American. “Have you come to wish me an early Christmas?”

  “Doctor Kaltenbrunner.” He shook my hand firmly, mirroring my grin. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “When someone comes to your cell and cuffs you to his hand, it usually doesn’t leave you much of a choice.” I smirked and, out of some desperate desire for normal human contact, slightly patted him on his shoulder. “I’m joking of course. You are the only person whose visits I always enjoy and look forward to.”

  Surprisingly, the OSS agent didn’t shrug my hand off, and seemed even pleased with such familiarity. He quickly patted my hand with his, as a gesture of much needed silent support, and motioned for me to take a walk with him in the yard.

  “How are you feeling, doctor?” he inquired with genuine concern, as we started to slow stroll on the fresh snow.

  “Better, thank you for asking. Just two weeks ago I would be hanging on your arm for support like a drunken girl.”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  “I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling better.” He quickly looked around, and making sure that we were far enough from the guard to overhear us, added quietly, “Annalise was very worried about you. I assured her that you’d make a full and quick recovery as soon as I spoke to your doctor, but she’s still not herself. Blaming herself for everything, as always.”

  “How is Ernie doing?” I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

  “Fine. He’s an adorable little boy, and definitely knows how to make himself the center of everybody’s attention. He’s sitting without support, crawling around, and very fast, I have to say.” Agent Foster chuckled as I smiled and pictured my son in my mind. “Annalise follows him everywhere, making sure he doesn’t bang his head on any piece of furniture.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “Very anxious all the time. She’s lost weight, doesn’t sleep at night anymore, and stays up to listen to the court proceedings on the radio. I told her that they wouldn’t call for the defendants for another couple of months, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She’s afraid to miss out on your appearance, if they happen to call you.”

  We both went quiet for a moment. I inhaled a full chest of crisp winter air and asked, more addressing myself than the American, “Why is she still clinging to me? I’m a dead man, I’ve already been told. Why won’t she let go and live her life?”

  “Why won’t you?”

  I thought of his question for a moment. “She’s the only piece of sanity that I have left. But why is she still holding onto something that will be soon gone? She has a new life, she is free, she can start with a blank slate. Why is she torturing herself over me? I will never make it out of here.”

  Agent Foster clasped his hands behind his back and looked straight forward.

  “You bring a lot of argument, doctor. Yes, she got out quite easily, her future is secured, she has a great husband who adores her and her son… But I guess the heart wants what it wants. And her hearts wants you.” He looked me in the eye. “She loves you, doctor. Simple as that.”

  “But why me?” I asked the question which I kept asking myself thousands of times when alone in my cell. “She made the right choice, when she decided to stay with Heinrich in Berlin. He is a wonderful husband, he always loved her endlessly… He forgave her when he found out about us, he agreed to raise my child… Why would she want me?”

  “I don’t know, doctor. To be honest, when I was just getting to know the two of you, Heinrich – the good husband and a former counterintelligence agent who helped the OSS immensely – and you, the no good homewrecker and a wanted war criminal – I kept asking myself the same question: why did such a kind-hearted and compassionate woman as Annalise chose you over him? Yes, she did stay in Berlin with her husband following her marital duty, but her heart was always with you. I was puzzled at first, but then the more I started getting to know you, the deeply troubled and lost soul that you are, I came to my own conclusion. As a counterintelligence agent herself, Annalise was always risking her own life to help people, to save as many as she could. She obviously hated her government, which she lost her brother to. And then she met you, and got to know you as well, and maybe you reminded her of her brother, after she realized how much you were hiding behind that sarcastic and arrogant mask you always wear before others. Her late brother had to hide from others too, only he couldn’t pretend anymore, so he shot himself. I guess she saw him in you, and decided to save you as well, only from yourself, because of that little good that was still left in you. That’s my theory,” Agent Foster concluded with a smile.

  “Good? In me?” I laughed, and shook my head sadly. “Have you seen my indictment? And you’re calling me good?”<
br />
  “It depends. Are you guilty of all those crimes?”

  “It’s a damn good question, agent Foster,” I replied and looked up at the sky. It started snowing again. “I wish I knew the answer to it.”

  “Why don’t you give me your thoughts on the matter, and we’ll try to figure it out together?”

  “You should have been a prison psychologist, agent Foster.” I laughed quietly. “You’re just like Dr. Gilbert, with a difference: I really feel like talking to you.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I take that as a compliment. So, what are you thinking about in regards to your indictment? And don’t worry, not a word of what you say will leave this courtyard. I only want to help you understand yourself and come to terms with it, before you get yourself another brain hemorrhage with all your unhappy thoughts, alone in that cell of yours.”

  I fought the urge to hug him, just for being human with me when he had all the reason not to. I sighed again, collecting my thoughts.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I pleaded not guilty, just like everybody else did, but if you think of it on the other hand… We can say all we want that it’s not our fault, and that we were only following orders, for if we disobeyed we would have been executed, but it doesn’t change the fact that we still were a part of it, of that big Nazi machine, and each of us bear a part of that collective guilt. And at the same time, if I hadn’t been ordered to take up the position of the chief of the RSHA after Heydrich’s death, I wouldn’t even been here now. So… technically is it Himmler’s fault, when he was the one issuing all those orders, and then making me sign, as I worked in the position he appointed me to against my will? Maybe you will think of it as of some kind of twisted allegory, but if someone holds a gun to your head and orders you to kill somebody… who should be prosecuted for murder? You or the person who made you do it? That’s the question which I can’t answer, agent Foster, even though I’m a lawyer myself.”

 

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