The medical research center in Frankfurt did research in a much different way than other institutions across the world. They didn’t use mice or other lower subjects for their macabre “experiments.” Instead, they used live human beings.
Doctor Bockler was part of that process. In fact, he was a proponent of such activities. A Nazi to the core, he believed in the master race as a sort of German manifest destiny. So why not take shortcuts to get desired results?
Say you wanted to test how long a downed pilot could live in freezing conditions. You simply get someone you didn’t care about, a POW, a Jew, anyone that was determined to be an enemy of the state, and emerge them in a tub of snow. They would freeze to death, and you would record their vital signs as they suffered and died. An autopsy would be performed, and Nazis in white smocks would study the body and agree. “More testing is needed...”
Doctor Bockler greeted Zigfried in his office which for all intent purposes looked like a normal medical office you might see in Berlin. However, if one rifled through the drawers, a simple folder about experiments to be soon performed on identical twins would be found. It went the gambit from injecting dyes into one twin’s eye to see what would happen to try to conjoin twins in a ghastly medical procedure.
Doctor Bockler thought it normal and indeed heroic of what he did. After all, this research would be useful in furthering the cause of the master race. He smiled when Zigfried came through the door. “Zigfried, my boy. You wear your Luftwaffe uniform like it was always part of you. Your mother if she were alive would be so proud of you.”
“I miss her.”
“We all do.” Doctor Bockler looked at the picture of his late wife which was on his desk, next to a Nazi swastika flag. A sad look on his face suddenly faded to one of anger. “Encephalitis of the brain, no doubt caused by her work at the hospital, rubbing elbows with the lower masses. I tried to warn her to stay away. But she wouldn’t hear of it. Zigfried never forget what they did do her. It is my duty, our duty, to rid Germany of the weak, the malcontents and especially the Jews – that traitorous money grubbing lot who betrayed Germany during the Great War. They were the reason for our defeat. Thank God for Adolf Hitler.”
“The Fuhrer has saved our country. What are you working on, if you can tell me? Your work is so important to the Third Reich.”
“Yes, well we all do what we can to further the cause of our Fuhrer. There is much to be done. Many years of neglect to take care of. And the cleansing process has only begun. With time, Germany will be a pure country, devoid of the weak and the inferior races.”
“You are a great man.”
“Adolf Hitler is great. Now, my latest experiment that you may be interested in, my study of typhus was quite interesting. As you may know, the disease is spread by lice and fleas. If and when we go to war, our soldiers may contract the disease. This will be true if they rat out the enemy or the lower class inbreds in their filthy surroundings.
“I took two twin boys who were ten years old. I believe they were Gypsies. They were dumb of course, no better than functional illiterates. I infected one of the boys with the typhus bacteria. After it had thoroughly spread throughout his body, we took blood from the infected host as it were and transfused it into his twin brother.
“Since they have the same DNA and the infected lower class subject was well along with typhus, I expected that the second boy would perhaps receive some antibodies from his brother along with the typhus. Mind you this was only a theory that I have long held since my days at the university. The university and the education system has top priority in the weeding out process with the new order. That is a good place to start. For too long, our student’s young minds have been fed useless propaganda.”
At that moment, Zigfried thought of Wolf. Weren’t his parents academics at the university? Wolf’s smug attitude stuck in the back of Zigfried’s mind. No wonder Wolf was like he was. His parents were to blame for that. “Yes, the university. It is a wonder I was able to weather that storm.”
“My theory didn’t prove out. The second brother got typhus to the same degree as the first. We let them die in a lockdown ward. I performed an autopsy on both of their vital organs. They were the same. Even their brains, which had been ravaged by the disease, were identical. When we bagged up their frontal lobes, I almost mixed them up.”
Doctor Bockler and Zigfried laughed. “You must get more twins.”
“Ziggy, you seem to have put on some more meat. You’re filling out. Soon you will be bigger than the Nazi storm troopers I see walking the Kudamm shopping district with their blonde girlfriends. They are laden down with the things their girlfriends have bought. Zigfried, girlfriends are very expensive. Are you dating?”
“I’m much too busy at flight school. Besides, I’m waiting for that special person. She will be from good Aryan stock. Blonde hair, blue eyes. She is out there waiting for me.”
Doctor Bockler organized his desk and stood up. “I will keep my eyes open for you.”
“Father, I prefer to find her myself.”
Doctor Bockler nodded. “I realize that, but no harm in pushing the process along. There is a second cousin of Joseph Goebbels. She is lovely and dedicated to the cause.”
“Enough.”
Doctor Bockler laughed again. “Look at me playing matchmaker. Your mother was much better at that. Now are you ready for a weekend of wild boar hunting? Heinrich Himmler and his staff will be joining us.”
“Himmler?”
A look of pride came across Doctor Bockler’s face. “Much has changed. Your father’s faithful obedience to the Fuhrer has been noticed. And my research into the practical advancement of the Aryan Race has been rewarded.”
“Father, there is a pressing matter that I need to talk to you about.”
“What could that be?”
“It concerns a cadet’s parents.”
“What of them?”
Zigfried cracked his knuckles and placed his hands behind his back. “Father they are professors at the University of Berlin. I question their loyalty. There is no doubt they harbor ill will to the state.”
Doctor Bockler closed his briefcase. “You can tell me about them on the ride out to the forest. The re-education of scholars and intellectuals at the universities is still under way. Many have seen the light and sworn an oath to the Fuhrer and the Third Reich. Others haven’t; we shall see which these professors are.”
“I’m happy to see that your work is progressing here at the institute.”
“The sooner Germany cleanses itself of the hordes of undesirables the better. A society cannot prosper without eliminating those deemed useless and who are just another mouth to feed. Better to make bullets for our army.”
“Of course, I agree...”
The Black Forest
Doctor Bockler and Zigfried rode very comfortably in a limousine that was just another of the many perks provided by the cash-flushed Nazi Party. There was money and plenty of it. One of the first things Hitler and his thugs did when they assumed power was to gather all the major industrialists in a comfortable room.
The leading industrialists were told to get out their checkbooks and fork over huge sums of money to Hitler and the Nazi Party. In return, the economic titans were promised armament contracts and other public sector largess.
The industrialists thought they were clever and shrewd by getting into bed with the Nazi Party. They did indeed back the right horse, as far as German politics was concerned. The Communists and Democratic Center Party were swept away by the Nazi tidal wave. The industrialists got their rearmament contracts...and their man, Adolf Hitler, who in the end would bring Germany to total ruin.
The Bockler’s followed another limousine into the dark winter night. The caravan was heading toward the Black Forest. The Black Forest was the premiere hunting region of Germany. Behind the Bockler’s limousine was an army truck loaded with hunting gear. There were so many guns of various types in the army truck that the convoy
was ready to put down a riot. The Nazis it seems were always prepared.
Heinrich Himmler was in the lead limousine. Himmler was Chief of the German Police and Ministry of the Interior. He was the architect of the burgeoning death camps, which were taking shape in Germany and Austria. Himmler’s views were born out of the Great Depression when he blamed the Jews for Germany’s failures. He soon followed Adolf Hitler and eventually worshiped him.
As the limousine followed Himmler’s vehicle, Zigfried explained the situation of Wolf Kruger and his intellectual parents to his father. Doctor Bockler nodded, and when Zigfried was done he said, “If Wolf Kruger’s parents are a threat to the Third Reich, then what of the cadet himself?”
Zigfried hadn’t thought of that coming up. He imagined that he now looked somewhat foolish to his father. “Father, Wolf Kruger isn’t a Nazi like myself. Shouldn’t positions in the government or Luftwaffe go to those who have an undying oath to the Fuhrer? Aren’t we deserving of power? In fact, it is our responsibility to lead. If not, then who?”
“I suppose you’re right. I will talk to Himmler about Professor Kruger and his wife. I have no doubt that they are on the watch list already. If they are subversives, they will be dealt with severely. So this may be a mute point. For all we know they are scheduled for deportation, indoctrination or execution. Time will tell.”
“Thank you, father.”
They reached the Black Forest hunting grounds just before midnight. Heinrich Himmler had a personal assistant and four heavily armed bodyguards with him. A dozen soldiers set up a bank of floodlights which were turned off. It was snowing lightly as Doctor Bockler and Zigfried took up positions in a blind that was camouflaged. Heinrich Himmler and his assistant were in a blind next to them. Zigfried warily said, “Shouldn’t we be up in the trees. No one hunts wild boars like this.”
“Himmler likes to be daring when he is in front of his bodyguards. Is your shotgun loaded?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, the hunting dogs will be taken two kilometers down the path. The will flush the boars this way. Don’t fire until the floodlights are switched on. Then kill every one of them.”
Zigfried checked his shotgun and waited. It was getting colder and the snow was coming down hard. The visibility was getting worse as a faint grunting sound echoed through the forest. It grew louder by the second and then reached a pitched peak.
The floodlights were switched on as a horde of wild boars ran in front of the two hunting blinds. Himmler and his assistant opened fire, and Doctor Bockler and Zigfried did the same with their shotguns. The boars were splattered with high powered shotgun shells and ran away from the blinds. The snow changed directions and blew hard into the face of the Himmler and his minions.
The snow seemed to turn dark, which was the herd of wild boars changing directions. They charged at the hunting blinds in a mad, uncontrollable headlong pursuit to escape the piercing lead from the guns, but they had no idea where or how to do it. Doctor Bockler and Zigfried fired as fast as they could. They shot wildly into the blowing snow, which was filled with the grunting of the beasts.
Himmler and his assistant blasted away as spent smoking cartridges fell at their feet. One boar and then another slammed against the Bockler’s hunting blind. Doctor Bockler was knocked over. Zigfried dropped his spent shotgun and blasted away with his Luger. A wild boar fell in front of the blind, as blood pooled on the snow from a wound to the animal’s head.
Himmler’s hunting blind shook as a snorting wild boar rammed into it. Himmler’s assistant screamed as he was gored by the tusk of the boar. In the confusion, Himmler calmly signaled to the soldiers who were in the military vehicle behind the blind. They commenced firing with machine gun pistols, and the boars were swept off their feet. They fired, at least, a hundred rounds and nothing could live facing that amount of firepower.
When the smoke and blowing snow cleared, Himmler’s assistant was carried to the limousine. Doctor Bockler and Zigfried ventured outside their hunting blind to look a the carnage. Some of the boars were in the midst of death throes. They shook and moaned on top of the snow. They seemed to be begging for mercy. They would receive none.
A German officer went from one wild boar to another and fired a shot into each of the wounded boar’s head. Soon the ground in front of the hunting blinds was silent.
Heinrich Himmler calmly walked among the boars, inspecting the carnage. He took off his rimmed glasses and wiped them clean with a handkerchief. He said, “My glasses seemed to have fogged up. That was rather entertaining.”
Dr. Bockler said, “Shall I look after your assistant?”
“He’ll be fine. What do you think of this boar?” Himmler pointed to a large boar in the middle of the carnage. “I think he’s the largest. But just as dead as the others.”
Dr. Bockler nodded, and Zigfried said, “A magnificent beast.”
“Yes... quite.” Heinrich Himmler turned to another soldier. “Put this one in the truck. As for the others... burn them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Zigfried said, “Burn them?”
“Is this your son Doctor Bockler?” asked Himmler.
“Yes, it is. Zigfried is a cadet at the Luftwaffe Flight School.”
“Yes. Zigfried, the boars have no value; the forest is filled with thousands of them. I understand there is some question as to the loyalties of the parents of a cadet at your flight school.”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Doctor Bockler, please ride in my car, and I will go with Zigfried and see what this matter is about.”
Himmler and Zigfried got into the limousine and it headed on its way back to Berlin. Himmler matter of factly said, “Make your case.”
“Sir, there is a cadet at flight school who is most abrasive, and he doesn't wear the Nazi armband.”
“That is no crime. Some serve the party; others are soldiers or airmen. The Third Reich needs both.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be disappointed. What is the cadet’s name.”
“Kruger. Wolf Kruger.”
“Is Wolf Kruger a good pilot?” Zigfried hesitated. Himmler raised his voice. “Is he a good pilot? Is that such a hard question?”
“Yes, he is a good pilot.”
The limousine continued through the darkness of the Black Forest. Zigfried saw Himmler’s face flicker in the light as the car as gently shook from side to side. Himmler said. “And both parents teach at the university in Berlin.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what they teach?”
“I looked into it myself. Political Science and Economics.”
Himmler scoffed, “Such useless disciplines. I’m sure they are on our list. And what about the son?”
“I doubt he will ever be a good Nazi.”
“There is time. But if you are jealous of him, I suggest you do something about it.”
“Like what, sir.”
“Out fly him.”
Heston Aerodrome
On September 30, 1938, Neville Chamberlain landed at the Heston Aerodrome, filled with pride and satisfaction. He had averted war with Hitler and Nazi Germany. The piece of paper Chamberlain clutched in his hand and which he held up to the throng of well-wishers at the airport was proof enough that there would be, “Peace for our time.”
The crowd broke into delirious applause. War had been averted. Mothers wouldn’t have to send their boys off to fight in some faraway battlefield that no one could pronounce. Cities wouldn’t be bombed, and the fallen wouldn’t come back in pine boxes. If only that was true...
Hitler had rattled his saber, demanding that the German Sudetenland region of Czechoslovakia have the right to self-determination. Hitler was no fool. The whole business of so-called Czechoslovakian atrocities to the German inhabitants was just a ruse by the Nazis to get their hands on the valuable prizes of the region.
That would include vast pockets of natural resources that the Nazi war machine eyed with pleasure. So
on, the Czechoslovakian Skoda Arms Factory would fall into Hitler’s lap. The complex was second only to Germany’s own Krupp’s military production factory.
But on this day, none of that mattered, as Neville Chamberlain was the toast of London, and indeed, later he would take a “Royal Curtain Call,” from the balcony at Buckingham Palace. For good measure, the jubilant scene was then played out in front of 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister’s Residence.
It was as if all of England was at a party, celebrating until the wee hours of the morning. It was only after they had sobered up, did Neville Chamberlain realize what had happened. The hangover was still a year away, but that didn’t stop Winston Churchill from brooding over the fact that Czechoslovakia in no uncertain terms, had been sold down the river.
That night, Winston found himself awake even though it was well past midnight. He looked at the massive globe in his study and realized that the evils of the world were inexorably on the move. He poured himself a scotch and went out onto the veranda. The air was crisp, maybe even chilly. Soon he was joined by James his driver. Winston poured him a glass of scotch. “I see that the sandman has also kept you waiting.”
James nodded sadly. “A terrible day.” He took a drink and they looked out over the horizon.
“No one took notice. But I’m afraid that the next world war was born today. A whole country and one mind you that had treaties with the so-called great Western powers is turned over to Adolf Hitler. I’m sure he’s in an uncontrollable delirious rage. I understand he chews on the carpet when he loses his senses. Tonight he won’t be doing that, for he has won a great victory without firing a shot.”
“What was Mr. Chamberlain and the government’s reason for this treachery?”
Winston paused and gathered his thoughts. “Treachery... I don’t believe so. It stands more to reason that Neville is clutching to a fairy tale.”
Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) Page 9
