Finding Rebecca: A Novel of Love and the Holocaust (40 page)

“I trust
everything went well this morning.” Christopher started.

“Yes,
yes, the truck arrived on time. The driver took them to their new quarters.”

“Excellent,
I’m glad that everything went so smoothly.”

“Will
that be all?” Herz asked.

“For
now, Herr Herz, but you can expect to hear from me again, and soon.”
Christopher hung up the phone.

It was
the end of the day when he came. He was a tall man, bigger than Schultz, with
broad shoulders that still bore the shadows of faded muscle. His name was
Markus Klaczko. He was the head of the Sonderkommando unit, Schultz’s
replacement. Klaczko sat down opposite Christopher.

“You
called for me, Herr Obersturmführer?” he began.

“Yes I
did.” Christopher sat back in his chair and looked out the window at the snow
and the wire, the trees beyond. “Tell the other prisoners the summary
executions are going to stop. If there are any problems with Kapos, guards or
even officers, I want you to come to me,” Christopher continued. Klaczko nodded
his head, slowly and deliberately. “I will do my best to protect you as much as
I can; I will warn you of anything that I hear, but there is only so much I can
do for you. I wish I could do more.”

“I know,” Klaczko answered.
 

“Next, I’d like to talk to you about
that remarkable day in Dachau, the day the ladies from Canada saved
your
life.” Christopher adjusted the
headphones and pressed his face closer into the radio microphone. “What are
your thoughts on what the US soldiers did that day in Dachau; executing an
estimated fifty to one hundred SS troops on the liberation of the concentration
camp in April 1945?”

Christopher looked across at the
interviewer, who motioned for him to talk. “Perhaps if they’d seen all the
killing done in the years before, the soldiers might not have been so quick to presume
that it was the answer. I can see why they did it. It was the only justice
those prisoners had seen in years of torture, starvation and death. I think I
might have done the same thing in their place. But I wasn’t in their place.”
Christopher sat back and adjusted his tie, and looked around for Hannah, even
though he knew she wasn’t there.

“Why didn’t you speak up for yourself
when the soldiers rounded up the SS men? Why didn’t you tell them you were
different from the others?”

“I think I was the only guard who
didn’t try to speak up.” Christopher smiled.

“But there were no other guards there
who did what you did, who saved three hundred and forty two children from
certain death in the gas chamber, who protected the lives of more than six
hundred women under their care.”

“How do you know that?” Christopher
said, leaning forward. “I didn’t know their stories and they didn’t know mine.”
Christopher let out a deep breath. “The truth of it is I was tired. Rebecca was
dead. Even after her father told me that she was executed I still looked, but
there was never any sign of her. And who’s to say I didn’t deserve to die along
with the other guards for what I did. I delivered hundreds of thousands of
dollars, pounds, marks, and any other currency you can name to the SS.”

“The prisoners who saved you didn’t
seem to think you deserved to die.” The interviewer’s eyes were piercing as
they peered across the table at him.

“No, they didn’t.” Christopher
shifted back in his seat, thinking back to that day. He saw the young American
soldier, his brown eyes reddened at the sides, his lips tight as a scar on his
face, coming to him and lifting his rifle with shaking hands, aiming it at
Christopher’s chest. It was a funny feeling, to accept death and have life
given back to you. It was Martina
Kocianova who
saved him
. He opened his eyes to see her clawing at the soldier’s face,
bashing on his shoulders, and the shot meant for Christopher flew into the air
above his head. Some of the other ladies pulled Christopher away, protecting
him with their bodies. There was sound of more rifle shots and as he looked
back, all the other SS men were dead.

“And why was it that you and the
ladies under your care ended up at Dachau when the rest of the camp at
Auschwitz was taken to Bergen-Belsen?”

“I had heard about the typhus
outbreaks in Bergen-Belsen. The sheer numbers of prisoners arriving from the
Eastern camps meant that it had become a death trap. I used the last of the
monies I had appropriated from the safe to bribe the proper officials and I had
the ladies in Canada, along with the few remaining Sonderkommandos,
transferred, via train, to Dachau.”

“These were the same monies that you
used to bribe the officials to have the children taken off the trains and
diverted to the factory where your father met them?”

“From the same source, yes.”
Christopher felt cold, alone. He thought of Hannah again.

“And what happened to this money?”

“It’s all gone, long ago. If you’re
trying to suggest that I squirreled any of it away for myself, you’re wrong.
That money was only ever for one purpose.”

The interviewer did not rise to
Christopher’s lead. “How do you reconcile the fact that the money you gave to
these officials, these Nazi war criminals, may have helped them to escape, as
many have?”

“That was a choice I had to make at
the time. I had to deal with the situation I saw in front of me on a daily
basis. If I had done nothing, there is a good chance that the people I oversaw
would have died, certainly the children we took off the trains anyway. It is
unfortunate that some of these men have escaped.”

“Let’s move on to your own trial for
war crimes, which took place in Poland in 1946. You had twenty former inmates
testify on your behalf and your defense lawyer stated that there were over two
hundred others who wished to be given the chance to speak for you; some wanted
to travel from France, the United States and even Israel.”

“You’ve done your research.”

“Then, in 1947, you testified against
several of your former superior officers in the Auschwitz trials in Poland,
where you gave evidence against the former head of the camp
Arthur Liebehenschel and your own direct superior officer Uwe
Friedrich, both of whom received the death penalty for their part in the war
crimes that occurred there. How did it feel testifying against your former
colleagues?”

Christopher
shifted in his seat and looked at the interviewer, who waved his hands at him,
motioning to him about the dead air they had mentioned before the interview had
started. “It was easier for some of the officers than others. I thought that
certain things, certain visions and dreams would be put to rest after that.”
Christopher looked up and around the grey interviewing room. The producer was
in the corner, headphones on, and Christopher saw the tape recording his every
word. It felt like he was on trial again. He thought of his family, and Jersey,
and wondered why he had ever agreed to this. “It was my duty to those who died
to do what I could on their behalf.” Christopher looked up at the window into
the studio. David Adler from the American Jewish Committee was smoking a
cigarette as he watched them. “The things that went on in those camps, the
things that I saw myself, were monstrous, and I was…. happy to bring even some
of the perpetrators to justice.”

The interviewer
nodded. “Are there any guards you worked with who have yet to be brought to
justice?”

“There are
thousands of guards who worked in Auschwitz still walking free today. But
people I worked with? Yes, I believe that my roommate, Franz Lahm, is still at
large, although I never saw any of the acts that he himself perpetrated.” And
as he looked across, he saw Rebecca at the window and his whole body went cold,
his heart crushed in his chest. It couldn’t be. He had dreamt this so many
times. She was standing beside David, her hand to her mouth. It had to be her.
It was Rebecca. Christopher saw David talking to her. He saw her too.
Christopher pressed his eyelids together and wrenched them apart and looked
again. It was Rebecca. She was older, but he hadn’t seen her in eleven years.
Her long blonde-brown hair fell beyond her shoulders to her floral dress. She
was tanned, smiling, and even more beautiful than before. Christopher gasped
and the interviewer looked at him, almost stopping mid question. Christopher was
standing now although he couldn’t remember getting to his feet and he ripped
off the headphones and drew his finger to his throat and brought it back and
forth. He felt clammy and cold, yet his heart was burning inside him and he was
running for the door.

“All right,
ladies and gentlemen, we’re here with Christopher Seeler, former SS guard, and
the man some are now describing as the ‘Angel of Auschwitz’, but right now we
have to take a commercial break, we’ll be right back.” The interviewer glared
across at Christopher. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Christopher
didn’t answer, just pushed the door open, and Rebecca was smiling at him. She
turned to face him. David looked at Christopher and then her.

“Rebecca?”
Christopher said. She didn’t answer, just smiled and a tear broke down her
cheek. He had her in his arms.

She drew back
more quickly than he wanted. “I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long,” she
said, crying now.

“It’s been
eleven years, Rebecca, almost eleven and a half,” he gasped, almost spitting
out the words. Her face was thin, almost as thin as when he had last seen her
back in Jersey, but still perfect, utterly perfect. “You look wonderful. Where
have you been for the last nine years? I thought you were dead.”

“I thought
you were a Nazi. I heard you were a guard in Auschwitz. I went back to Jersey,
but I only found an empty house. No one knew where you or your family were. I
only found out who you really were when I read about you in the newspaper.”

“But your
father said you were dead.”

Rebecca shook
her head. “You believed my father, did you? I was transferred.” She wiped the
tears away with her wrist and Christopher saw the wedding ring, felt his stomach
clench and his heart as molten rock in his chest, but his face didn’t change.
“Do you want to go somewhere? I don’t know the city too well. I’ve never been
here before.” Christopher turned around to David. “David, this is Rebecca, the
woman I told you about.”

David looked
suitably shocked and he looked at Christopher with a huge smile before leaning
forward to shake Rebecca’s hand. “It’s a pleasure, a real pleasure,” he said,
and turned to look at Christopher.

“I have to
leave,” Christopher said, looking at David. He turned to Rebecca. “Do you live
here?”

“No, I’m
flying back to Israel tomorrow morning.” She shrugged. Her mannerisms were
memories in themselves and he had to restrain himself from throwing his arms
around her. It felt like the natural thing to do.

“David, you
heard her. I have to go.” Christopher looked at his watch. It was just after
six. “We don’t have much time.” Christopher looked into the studio. The host
was glaring at him now, pointing to his watch.

“Christopher,
I understand but this interview is the main reason we brought you here. It’s
nearly finished; we’ve barely half an hour left. This is important. You can
spend the rest of your time here with this young lady after we finish.” He
looked back at Christopher, who looked at Rebecca. “You can have the whole
night after we wrap this up. This is a live broadcast.”

Christopher
looked towards Rebecca, waiting for her final judgment. “I can wait,” Rebecca
said. “I mean, I have to leave early tomorrow morning, but I can wait around
tonight. Do what you need to do, Christopher.” He looked at her, his lips
pressed together and then at David. “Please, Christopher, finish the interview.
We can be together afterwards.” Christopher arched his head as he looked at
her. “We can spend time together after the interview.” She nodded.
 

Christopher
looked at Rebecca and then at David. “All right, I’ll finish the interview, but
can we at least have a few minutes together? An hour and then I’ll finish the
interview.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” David said
and walked into the studio.

“So, how are you?” Rebecca asked. The
smile on her face seemed genuine but there was much more behind it. She turned
towards him and he moved to her, but was suddenly too close and she stepped
back.

“I’m doing really well. I can’t
believe you’re here. You look great, just great.” The smile on his face was
almost beginning to hurt now.