Mila 18 - Leon Uris [191]
With the Good Fellowship Club archives hidden, I feel that my work has come to an end. I am so lonely without Susan and Momma. I am almost blind from the years of working in the cellar in bad light with these notes. My hands and shoulders are swollen with arthritis from the dampness. I am in pain all the time. How much longer can we go on? How many of us will escape? Two? Five? Fifty? How many? And what of Joint Forces? A fool’s army. No one in their wildest dreams believes we can hold out against assault for more than two or three days. So what is the use? When will we fight? Or will we fight? Who among us will dare to fire that first shot against them? Who?
Entered as the first entry of a new volume by Ervin Rosenblum on January 15, 1943.
Chapter Two
BLOND, BLUE-EYED, TRIM, intelligent, industrious SS Oberführer Alfred Funk stood, posture correct, at the head of a polished table. Listening in rapt attention on his left sat Rudolph Schreiker and Dr. Franz Koenig. Opposite them, Gestapo Chief Gunther Sauer and Sturmbannführer Sieghold Stutze, newly appointed as security police head for all of Warsaw. Not so rapt in his attention, Horst von Epp, bored, stared out of the window at the opposite end of the table.
Funk had carried verbal orders from Berlin to Poland on the “Jewish question” for so long that meanings were understood beyond their thin veils. He spoke in an uninspired monotone.
“Those who remain in the ghetto are Communists, criminals, perverts, and agitators.”
Four of them agreed. Von Epp played with a paper clip.
“Himmler has decided that for the sake of common justice we must erase this blot. We will proceed shortly with the final phase of the liquidation of the ghetto.”
Each of the men immediately translated the order into his own personal sphere of action.
For Rudolph Schreiker the removal of the Jewish problem in his area would be a relief. It was getting far too complicated for him to understand; besides, many of his business dealings could be buried in the ghetto.
Franz Koenig had been way ahead of it, anticipating the ghetto-liquidation order. He had already negotiated new war contracts, using labor at Trawniki and Poniatow.
Sauer took the order with unconcern. A policeman is always busy. Old problems are solved, new ones pop up. The Gestapo never rests, never will rest. Put out one fire, two more ignite. It did not matter.
Horst von Epp wanted the meetings to break up so he could get to a telephone and check to see if the new girls had come in from Prague.
Stutze was the most outwardly concerned. To him would fall the actual job of digging the vermin out. The Jews had shown great ingenuity in hiding themselves, and with an entire winter to dig in he would need more help.
“You are, of course, aware that the Jews are subterranean,” Stutze said. “One can walk in the streets of the ghetto for hours without a sign of life. They live like moles. According to their Civil Authority records, there are forty to fifty thousand of them left. And one cannot overlook the fact that they have been arming themselves.”
Funk cut Stutze short “You do not suggest that Jews will fight?”
“Of course not, Oberführer,” the Austrian said too quickly. “But you yourself said that criminals and Communists have taken refuge in the ghetto.”
“I have full faith that your Reinhard Corps will be more than equal to the situation,” Funk concluded abruptly.
Stutze blanched. Funk had put him in such a position that he could not request additional troops. “Of course, Oberführer.”
“Fine ... fine,” Funk said. “Tomorrow evening I should like to hear your plans for completion of the liquidation.”
“Of course, Oberführer.”
“You, Dr. Koenig, shall submit your requirements to have the machinery in your factories transferred.”
Koenig nodded.
“Until tomorrow