And yet, this morning, all she could concentrate on was her pounding head. How could she have been so foolish to go out drinking the night before her first day at work? Technically, it wasn’t her first day; she had observed the courtroom for a week now. From what she could discern in her crash course on crimes against humanity from the prosecutors, the Germans were not reproducing at the rate they should be.
“If we acknowledge such a child to be of our blood, the parents will be notified that the child is in school in Germany and will permanently remain in Germany.” Selina translated from English to the German defendants trying to keep up. She thought about what Red told her: the only way to get through the trial was to concentrate solely on the words themselves and not what they added up to. ‘Don’t think about what they’re saying. Just do your job.’
So she outlined the Race and Settlement Main Office (RuSHA)’s goals as defined by the prosecution until she got to their description of Lebensborn. Selina began to listen not to just the words coming out of the prosecutor’s mouth, but also what they meant. Suddenly, she could not detach herself. The Nazis had not only killed these children’s parents, but they had also stolen their birthright.
✽✽✽
1950 — Hampstead Heath, London
“Is that what intrigued you the most about the RuSHA trial?” Slim asked.
“By far, the kidnapping of the children. I was bewildered by that. The thing is, children represent the future, so to steal them with the intent to indoctrinate them into an ideology that essentially pits them against their people is horrifying.”
“It does seem closer to science fiction than real life,” Slim added.
“The assumption that children are a tabula rasa and could be reinvented with a new identity fascinated me so much that I became obsessed with the trial and its participants.”
“Is that why you went into the field of child psychology?” Slim asked.
“Yes and no. Yes, because I was intrigued by how the children were able to survive their horrific experiences, but also because child psychology came into its own after the war. There were so many traumatized children, we had to figure out how to help them. And I wanted to be part of this evolving field.”
“How did the children who testified seem? Were they traumatized?” Slim asked.
“They were nervous. The courtroom was huge. There were rows of tables with the judges, lawyers and defendants. It must have been very overwhelming for them, or on second thought, maybe it wasn’t at all.”
“Why do you say that?” Slim asked.
“They had been through so much. One girl had survived the massacre of her village, Lidice, in Czechoslovakia. I do think, however, they were fearful of the defendants. Not that any of the children knew them, it was just a general sense that I had. They knew the defendants were responsible for what had happened to them, their homes, their families, so I think they were a bit fearful.”
“Weren’t they angry?” Slim asked.
“Some were angry because they didn't want to leave their German homes,” Selina replied. “But the truth is I found the defendants more fascinating. I wondered what they thought when confronted by these children.”
“What were they like, the defendants?”
“I think they did not know why they were there. Quite frankly, you don’t kill and destroy millions of people’s lives by second-guessing yourself,” Selina noted wryly.
✽✽✽
1947 — Palace of Justice, Nuremberg
The day was dragging on. Between Selina’s pounding head and her enormous need to retch up the dinner she had eaten last night, she was counting down, almost to the second, when her shift would be over. She was translating word for word without paying any mind until she heard Mr. Neely, one of the American prosecutors, say, “Now we turn to a crime which in many respects transcends them all, a crime in which all fourteen of these defendants actively participated — the crime of kidnapping children.”
Selina looked at the defendants. She knew Ulrich Greifelt as the Reich Commissioner for the Consolidation of German Nationhood. He was responsible for the mass killings and the expulsion of the Polish people. Tall and gaunt, he looked somewhat like an anemic blowfish. The only two others who stood out to her were enraged and looked exhausted: Max Sollman, the head of the Lebensborn Society and his very nervous assistant, Inge Viermetz, who looked more like a German hausfrau than some kidnapping mastermind.
“The abduction of ‘racially valuable’ alien children was thus part of the greater program of destroying or crippling national groups in the occupied territories. In turn, Germany strengthened itself by importing children selected by standards compatible with Nazi racial and biological theories. Also, kidnapping of children was used as a method of retaliation and intimidation against those who, for various reasons, invoked the Nazis' displeasure.” Nelly continued.
The prosecutor paused and then carried on, “Many times throughout this proceeding we shall hear the defendants say how well these children were treated, and of the beautiful care afforded them. In comparison to the treatment of other children whom these defendants rejected for Germanization, this may well be true. But it is no defense for a kidnapper to say he treated his victim well. Even more important, we must ask ourselves why they were so treated. The answer is simple. These innocent children were abducted for the very purpose of being indoctrinated with Nazi ideology and brought up as “good” Germans, which serves to aggravate, not mitigate, the crime….”
Selina struggled to keep up as Mr. Neely grew more excited and ignored the flashing yellow light. He was on a roll, and the flashing lights were not going to stop him. Selina tried to gauge what the defendants understood as she fumbled to put together words. Although German shared the same twenty-six letters of the English alphabet, its word structure was dramatically different. So instead of translating literally, Selina had to rephrase everything. She could see the defendants sometimes struggled along with her.
“In general, Lebensborn preferred to handle children, not over six years of age. This age limitation is easily understood. At these tender years, the children could be more easily molded into the Nazi way of life. Also, it was much easier to conceal the true identity of these children and to deceive foster parents into thinking they were German children whose parents had been killed in an air raid or some other form of military operation,” Mr. Neely continued.
She saw Inge Viermetz grow more uncomfortable as Selina translated this. Neely took a sip of water. Selina wondered what was it like to be accused of such crimes as a woman, and to be sitting with these men?
“It was only natural that Lebensborn was designated as the organization to handle kidnapped children and to make all necessary arrangements for their placement into ‘proper’ German families. Here was an organization which had already been established to ensure the support of legitimate and illegitimate children of SS men, and had as its original purpose the creation of ‘a numerous and healthy progeny of the SS.’ But more important was ensuring the existing staff of personnel was well trained in the care of infants and their placement with foster parents. Also, the need to train them on the secrecy with which this program was carried out to conceal the true identity of these children, posed no problem. From its very beginning, Lebensborn stressed secrecy in the treatment of its cases because the many children originally born and cared for in Lebensborn homes were illegitimate.”
✽✽✽
1950 — Hampstead Heath
“Do you think that woman, the assistant to the head of Lebensborn — what was her name?” Slim asked.
“Inge Viermetz?”
“Yes, her. Do you think she knew these children were kidnapped?” Slim was trying to figure out what Inge Viermetz knew.
“No, I don’t think she did. As far as she knew, the children were ethnic Germans who were placed in Polish orphanages. Both she and Max Sollman, the head of Lebensborn, were acquitted. But a lot of those children did not go to a Lebensborn home.”
“How do you know?” Slim asked.
“I was translating the day Louis Levitan testified,” Selina said.
✽✽✽
1947 — Palace of Justice, Nuremberg
For Selina, the trial was beginning to read like a dime store sci-fi paperback. Children selected according to Aryan traits are stolen to add to the depleted fatherland. It was just all too bizarre and yet riveting at the same time. Mr. Neely called to the stand a neatly dressed American. “Mr. Levitan,” Neely began, “What is your present position today?”
“I am the director for the U.S. Zone of the International Refugee Organization, Tracing, Child Search Branch,” the man said affably.
“And in your work in connection with the Child Search Branch, what offices, what German agencies, were involved with the taking of these children?” Neely was almost reading these questions by rote now.
“In the past year and a half,” Levitan answered. “The Child Search Branch has discovered certain documents and has heard statements by little children, by certain German foster parents and neighbors that have disclosed about seven German organizations involved in the selection, the training and the institutionalization…”
“Witness, the tribunal is only interested in how many children came in through Lebensborn,” Presiding Judge Wyatt interrupted impatiently and loudly, startling Selina and the court.
“Witness, how many children of foreign nationality have been located by your department and, of this number, how many children were under the custody of Lebensborn?” Mr. Neely said, quickly rephrasing the question.
“A few less than ten thousand children have been located by us, and have either been repatriated or are in the stages of repatriation. Of these, we have evidence on exactly 340 children that have been in the hands of Lebensborn at one time or the other.”
“You are speaking only of the American Zone in Germany; is that correct?” Neely clarified.
Selina saw Levitan nod and then say, “I am speaking only of the U.S. Zone of Germany.”
She looked at Max Sollmann and his assistant, Inge Viermetz. They both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after her translation.
✽✽✽
1950 — Hampstead Heath
“Only the American zone?” Slim asked with exasperation.
“Yes, but the Lebensborn people had no idea what was going on and quite frankly, even if they did, what were they going to do? They couldn’t return those children. Most of the children’s parents were dead. The best they could do was keep them safe. They were in an untenable position; placed there by Himmler. No one thinks about the moral ambiguities of the war. It’s either you were good, or you were bad. That’s it.”
“How could they have not have known?” Slim asked in disbelief.
“Slim, it doesn’t matter. They were acquitted. What matters is finding your lost boy. Let me tell you something, everyone will say it’s wrong to take them away from the only home they know, but those six orphans Anna and I are writing the study on, were pulled away from their only home…”
“But, that was a concentration camp,” Slim protested.
“It doesn’t matter. These countries need their children back,” Selina said.
“The mother who is looking for her son wants to emigrate to America,” Slim said.
“A child’s earliest bond is with his mother. The boy should be with his mother,” Selina insisted.
“But what if he’s happy? Shouldn’t he stay in his adopted home?” Slim persisted, thinking of what Gitta had told her about the twins she had to remove.
“Children adapt, as we learned from the orphans of Theresienstadt,” Selina said.
“But what about the children who testified?” Slim asked.
“There was a Polish boy taken when he was 11,” Selina said. "They changed his name and gave him to a farmer. He did everything in his power to get back to his parents.”
✽✽✽
1947 — Palace of Justice, Nuremberg
The boy looked younger than fifteen, his skinny frame and baby face made him look at most, twelve or maybe, thirteen. He seemed nervous when he walked to the witness stand. A young lieutenant was waiting to translate for him, sitting next to him for support. It was traumatizing enough to have to face the people responsible for the crimes that were committed against them and their families.
Selina met the young lieutenant the night before. His parents saw the rise of anti-Semitism. They sent their only son to New York when the war broke out, hoping to shield him from the coming horrors. There, he lived with his aunt and uncle in Brooklyn and went to high school.
When the war broke out, he joined up. When his fluency in Polish became apparent, he started working as an auxiliary translator. He’d been nicknamed, ‘Youse’ by one of the judges because of his thick Brooklyn accent.
After the boy was sworn in, he sat down. Selina thought it made him appear even younger. He yanked on his shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar until the translator said it was okay to unbutton it. Then the boy smiled and became more relaxed. Mr. Neely began the questions, “Would you please state your name, age and where you were born?”
The boy answered softly. Youse leaned in, listening. “He said his name is Slavomer Grodomski Paczeany. He was born in 1933 in Lodz, Poland.”
“Are your mother and father still alive?”
“Yes, they are alive,” Youse translated.
“In 1942, did a woman come to your home and take you to the children’s home on Kopernika Street?” Neely continued as Selina whispered the translation into German through her microphone.
“Yes, she took me,” the boy said.
“Were you examined in Lodz?”
“Yes, and they took pictures of me,” Youse continued as the boy looked down.
“Did they examine and take down notes as to the color of your eyes and hair?” Neely tried to sound more friendly, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice.
Selina translated into German, “Yes, they did.”
“Do you remember who examined you at the time?”
“Dr. Grohmann…”
The story continued to unfold. First, his father tried to free him, and then his mother spoke with him through a fence. Afterwards, he was sent to another children’s home in Kalisz, Poland. There he was locked up in a room and deprived of food and water if he spoke Polish.
Selina looked up at the two SS men accused of carrying out the kidnappings, SS Major General Greifelt and SS Colonel Creutz. Both were skinny and had black circles under their eyes. They both looked past the child and focused their attention on Selina and her translation.
When something particularly egregious was mentioned, Creutz twitched. Selina had heard he was married to a countess and that they had a son named Oswald who was five years old. “Just concentrate on the words,” Selina said to herself, but she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if Creutz had his son torn from him like this boy’s parents had. She heard that he was an economist for a pharmaceutical company before the war. Did he feel anything when the boy spoke?
“After Kalisz, you were sent to Salzburg, is that correct?” Neely continued.
“Ja, Salzburg,” the boy said, almost spitting the name of the idyllic mountain city out of his mouth.
“Were you given to a family?”
“A farmer and his wife. I was told to call them mother and father.” The boy looked directly at Selina. He knew that he was speaking to the accused through her. She locked her eyes with his. She felt his rage, and she decided to convey it in a way that would only be discernible to the accused. So she changed her tone from flat to disgusted. It was subtle, but there was enough contempt for the accused to catch on as to how she felt. She saw them look at each other and then shift nervously in their seats.
So far, the defendants had enjoyed a cordial relationship with Selina. Some nodded to her each morning, acknowledging her presence with a polite nod. But a single child, a stolen boy, had brought h
er to her knees and she was going to let them know how she felt about their actions, once and for all.
✽✽✽
1950 — Hempstead Heath
“Did the boy get reunited with his parents?” Slim asked.
“Yes. Eventually, some of the Polish soldiers found him and took him back to his mother and father. He was one of the lucky ones. If you can deliver this child back to his mother, you should. Anna did a study of the children of London during wartime. After the bombs fell, the children didn’t notice what their environs looked like; the only thing they wanted were their mothers. That child is looking for his mother. It is a terrible thing to lose one’s mother.”
Slim thought about the last image she had of her mother as a whole being. It was her mother holding her to blow out the birthday candles on an enormous cake for her fourth birthday. She looked at Selina and said, “I know because that happened to me.”
At that moment, Slim realized that she had to find Karol. No one could go back and bring her mother to her, but she could bring this boy’s mother to him. If she had to find a needle in a haystack, then she would go straw by straw. Something had happened to that boy, and she had to find out what.
Chapter Four
London, 1950
After Slim left Hempstead, she set out to Brown’s Hotel where she had arranged to meet Prince Pavel Obolensky for high tea. She had stayed at Brown’s since she was a child and Cartwright, the aged concierge at the front desk, treated her more like an errant daughter than an adult guest. Seeing her in the doorway, he led her to a small table in the corner, snapped his fingers and a hot pot of tea was brought over by a nervous young man in a waistcoat.
“You’re not staying here with us this visit Miss Slim?” Cartwright asked almost with a pout. Having watched her grow from a little girl to an adult, he had even gone so far as to insist her father hire a nanny after he noticed the little girl sitting by herself for hours in the lobby while her father entertained his mistresses upstairs.
The Lost Boy Page 6
