A Murder in Auschwitz (19 page)

Read A Murder in Auschwitz Online

Authors: J.C. Stephenson

BOOK: A Murder in Auschwitz
10.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“And to find a lawyer such as Herr Deschler with his ability to deconstruct a case, his turn of phrase and use of language in the courtroom was, for Bauer & Bauer, fortuitous in the extreme; so many young lawyers did not return from the front. In spite of Herr Deschler’s often harsh exterior, mostly brought about by the pain which he has endured since the war, he has in fact shown the compassion and humanity that we require in this firm.

“Unfortunately, sometimes opportunities arise which one cannot allow to pass. And one such opportunity has presented itself to Herr Deschler. He will be leaving us to take the position of prosecutor.”

Meyer could hardly believe what he was saying. Deschler was sometimes a difficult character to work with; his temper was legendary, although Meyer felt that he had never actually been subject to his full wrath. He respected him deeply, both as a lawyer and as a man.

All he could say was, “When?”

Bauer took a deep puff on his pipe and another sip of his coffee. “It is effective immediately, I am afraid, Manfred. His case load will be distributed among the other senior lawyers.

“But, Manfred, this is very important, I can see a very bright future for you here at Bauer & Bauer. I know that Herr Deschler has prepared you well for the courtroom and I can see you growing as a lawyer. I want you to take on a murder case. I will find one that will suit you.”

He then turned to Weber. “Otto, I am going to ask you to support Herr Meyer. You have been working together now on certain cases for...” Bauer lifted his head in request for an answer.

“Two months now, Herr Bauer,” said Weber.

“Yes, two months. And I am assuming that this is a working partnership which you are both happy to continue?” asked Bauer.

“Yes of course Herr Bauer,” replied Weber.

Bauer gave a laugh. “Excellent. You already sound like a lawyer firm, Meyer & Weber. Now, Otto, I am going to ask, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t believe you are commensurate in your abilities with Manfred, because he will need the support of an assistant with a keen legal mind. Will you do this for him?”

Weber nodded. “Of course, Herr Bauer.”

The news that Deschler had left to become a prosecutor filled Meyer’s mind. Having seen Deschler at his most vociferous in the courtroom, Meyer could certainly imagine him in the role. Then it suddenly struck him that there was a possibility that they would be on opposite sides of the courtroom, and the thought of facing Deschler in that situation was terrifying.

“Manfred,” said Bauer, as his attention shifted to him. “I have been following the cases you have been involved in over the past six months or so, and I am suitably impressed by your resourcefulness, skill, and raw talent that I think that you are more than ready to lead a murder case. All new cases have to come through my desk, so I will keep an eye out for one which I think will be of interest to both yourself and Otto.”

Bauer winked at Meyer and gave both men a wide, toothy grin, which suddenly disappeared when he noticed that his pipe had stopped producing smoke. Staring forlornly into the bowl of his pipe, he said, “See! I can always tell when I have been talking too much when my pipe goes out. So gentlemen, I won’t keep you any longer. I will be in touch when a case comes my way which I want you to lead.”

Meyer and Weber both rose from their seats and left Bauer in his search for a method of lighting his pipe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Auschwitz, 1st December 1943

 

 

THE ground was hard with frost, and ice made the walk to the forest treacherously difficult. The snow muffled any sound from the men as they walked. The silence now had an accomplice.

The previous week, when the prisoners' uniforms had been returned after being disinfected, as they were every six weeks or so, all the prisoners had also received warmer clothing, including, for some of the lucky ones, woollen jumpers to be worn under their striped prison jackets.

Geller told Meyer that these would have been taken from 'Canada', the warehouse where all of the new arrivals' personal belongings were stored before being sorted and sent back to Germany. When Meyer had asked why it was called Canada, Geller had laughed and said that he had only found out when a Pole had explained that in Poland, Canada was considered a land of great riches, so it seemed appropriate to call this warehouse of riches after such an affluent place.

Forest group D arrived at the clearing, which had expanded west. One of the men had suggested that they were clearing a route through the forest for another rail track for the camp. It had not been the cold which had sent a shiver down Meyer’s spine, but the thought of more victims arriving to be exterminated.

The clearing was strangely beautiful in the snow, which hung from the branches of the pine trees and across the forest tracks. The guards took up their usual positions, and the prisoners started their work.

The SS had also been issued with warmer clothing. The guards had new greatcoats, scarves, and gloves, and they now wore balaclavas under their helmets. Braziers had been supplied to keep them warm as they watched the prisoners.

 

 

A day before the snow fell, Meyer and Geller were working next to an area where they were about to bring down another tree. Most of the wood had been cleared, and they were getting ready to move on to the next sector where the cut up remains of a once mighty pine tree lay when they heard 'alarm', the usual shout of warning, when a tree was about to fall, quickly followed by a further shout of warning.

As the tree swayed through the branches of its neighbours, one of its own branches twisted and snapped away from the main trunk and fell directly on to one of the men carrying logs back down to the main track. He let out a cry as the heavy branch hit him, and trapped him in place. The two tree-cutters were already running across the broken ground to try and pull him free. It was obvious that he was lying where the tree was about to fall.

What happened next happened so fast that it was only later, when Meyer re-ran it in his mind, that he got an idea of what had actually occurred. One of the tree-cutters had fallen as he ran, only to be crushed by the tree as it slid off its stump. The other made it to the man trapped by the branch and tried to pull him away from the falling trunk, but it was no use. Both men disappeared in a shower of pine needles and splintering wood.

Meyer and Geller dropped the branches they were carrying and ran over to the fallen tree. Geller held back the branches as Meyer searched through the broken wood to look for the men, until he saw the stripes of prison uniform. The tree-cutter's legs were visible under a blanket of pine needles, but most of his body lay under the trunk.

Meyer could not see the man who had been hit by the branch. Then he heard groaning from the other side of the tree trunk. Geller had heard it too, and Meyer watched in astonishment as Geller vaulted the tree trunk. Meyer followed after him.

Two SS guards had run over to the fallen tree and unhitched their rifles from their shoulders. Meyer supposed that if there was going to be an attempted escape, then a moment of confusion such as this would be the best time.

The man was being crushed by the tree trunk. His breath was being squeezed from him and pain was etched across his face. Geller looked at Meyer.

“We can’t move it,” he said, panic in his voice. “The tree. It’s too heavy.”

Meyer stared down at the crushed man’s face. Blood trickled from his nose and his mouth was open in a silent scream, his eyes pleading with him to stop the pain.

Meyer pulled Geller to one side and looked over at the closest guard. He did not say anything and, thinking back, he was not sure how he communicated it with his face, but it was a rare moment of connection between guard and prisoner. The guard loaded a round into the rifle breach then pulled the weapon up to his shoulder. Meyer looked away until he heard the shot.

Smoke and the smell of cordite filled the air. The guard lowered his rifle and waited as an officer made his way over.

The officer wore a lighter-coloured greatcoat than the guards, and his black lapel patches carried the two silver squares denoting his rank of Oberscharfuhrer on one side, and the SS runes on the other.

“You two, get this tree stripped and the trunk cut. And get these bodies out from under it,” came the barked orders. Meyer and Geller started the process, clearing the branches into a pile for someone to remove to the main track.

The officer turned to the guard. “The men under the tree. What was their function?”

“They were the tree-cutters, Herr Oberscharfuhrer,” he replied.

“And what do these two do?” he asked, pointing at Meyer and Geller.

“Wood clearance, sir,” replied the guard.

The officer nodded and thought for a moment. “You two, once you have cleared this tree and put the bodies on the cart you can consider yourselves promoted. You are now tree-cutters.”

 

 

Meyer cleared the snow from around the trunk of the next tree they would fell and knocked off the ice which had stuck to the bark on the tree's exposed side. Geller took a small hand-axe and made a notch in the trunk around thirty centimetres from the ground. Then he and Meyer hoisted the heavy two-man saw, so that the teeth of the blade sat within the notch.

Slowly, they pushed the saw backwards and forwards until the dulled teeth of the saw began to dig deeply into the wood. Once they were both happy that the saw had found its track, they increased the speed.

It took a considerable amount of time to saw through the trees. The saw blade was blunt and would often get stuck as the sap built up. This last was an unexpected bonus which Meyer and Geller had not expected. The sap was sweet, and they secretly began to collect it to pass around the others in Forest Group D. Meyer wondered if the previous owners of the saw had realised that the sap could be eaten and had kept it to themselves.

In spite of the time it took to saw through the tree trunk, the work was much easier than the backbreaking collection of wood. Geller’s health improved and his tiredness returned to its normal level. He entirely attributed this to the consumption of the sap, but Meyer suspected that it was the change in the work they did. Yet it was still hard work. Even on the coldest of days, they had to remove their jackets to stop them becoming soaked with sweat, which would cool down quickly and suck their body heat into the ether. This could be followed by hypothermia or frostbite.

Meyer and Geller were only a third of the way through the trunk when the cart, which carried water in the summer and bitter ersatz coffee in the winter, arrived. The prisoners always followed the same routine it it's arrival. They had to move into the clearing as two of the guards kept watch over them, while the other guards took their time at the cart.

Meyer and Geller pulled their vests, woollen jumpers, and prison jackets back on to keep warm as they waited for their turn. Ziegler, who had been working nearby, joined them.

“That was a good discovery of yours,” he whispered. “The sap.”

Geller pointed at Meyer. “It was Manfred who discovered it; it is him you should thank.”

The men stood in silence for a moment. Meyer looked into the darkness of the trees. The snow seemed to have removed the colour from them, leaving them like black cathedral towers, matching the black and grey men standing in their shadow.

“Do you ever think about trying to make it away from here, into the forest?” asked Meyer quietly.

Geller and Ziegler followed Meyer’s gaze towards the darkness of the trees.

“If you did make it, without being shot that is, winter would not be the best time to attempt an escape,” replied Ziegler. “First of all, the snow cover on the ground, your tracks would be easier to follow. Even if you kept within the trees, the ground is frozen and footprints in the frost can be easy to see for days. Then, of course, if they used dogs to track you, your scent will hang in the air and stick to the undergrowth in this temperature. And then, if you managed to get away, you would freeze to death during the first night. No, if you were going to attempt such an escape, spring or summer would be the best times.”

“Spring seems such a long time away,” said Geller, rubbing his hands together.

“By then you might see Russian or British or American soldiers walking through the forest,” joked Meyer.

Ziegler shook his head. “I don’t think that will be happening I am afraid, Meyer. Anyway, if it does, it won’t be British soldiers, it would be Russians, and they are just as bad as the Nazis.”

“They would free us from the camp, wouldn’t they?” said Meyer.

Ziegler wiped a running nose on his sleeve, then folded his arms against his body and stamped his feet to try to keep warm. “I wouldn’t bet on it. I fought against the Germans when they invaded Poland from the west, then I fought the Russians when they invaded from the east.

“The Nazis and the communists were friends back then. They took it in turns to batter my country and then they met in the middle and shook hands with each other.”

“That was in 1939. You only arrived here last spring. Where were you hiding until then?” asked Geller, surreptitiously handing Ziegler a chewy piece of sap.

Ziegler quickly popped it into his mouth and began to explain his journey to Auschwitz. “Like I said, I was in the Polish Army, the 74th Infantry Regiment. I remember the night we got the call that the Germans had invaded. We spent ten days fighting them until we were to retreat to the southeast, to what they called the Romanian Bridgehead. That was where we could hold off the Wehrmacht until the French and the British sent supplies and reinforcements. But then the Soviets thought that they would also have a piece of Poland and we had to give up our defences and fight the Russians as well. It was difficult from the start but once the Russians invaded, all hope left us.

Other books

Collective Mind by Klyukin, Vasily
Escape by Anna Fienberg
The Good Life by Martina Cole
Houston Attack by Randy Wayne White