in command, Kurt Baumer, gave Rink a friendly smile. Baumer was Rink’s close friend, his only friend in the SS. The two of them had lived in the same neighborhood as children and had come a long way to reach their present positions.
“The commander is expecting you,” said Baumer.
“What does he want?”
“I have no idea.”
Baumer led Rink to Schreider’s big office. On the wall was a large photo of Hitler and the swastika flag hung behind the desk.
Karl straightened up, raised his right hand, and shouted “Heil Hitler!”
Schreider sat up in his leather chair and returned his greeting with raised arm. He was stocky and bald, with a tic in the corner of his mouth.
“Leave us alone,” he said to Baumer.
“Karl Rink.” He addressed his underling in an official tone. “You’ve been with us now for seven years, correct?”
“Seven years and two months.”
“You’ve won a lot of praise, Rink. I’ve read the reports on your activity, your devotion to the Führer. There are good chances that you’ll be promoted and given more responsibility.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“But I wanted to clarify a few things. First of all, I got a report on the activities of our men in the retaliation we carried out against the Jews. Among other things, I was told that you didn’t really take part in the operation.”
“I was there.”
“You were. But what did you do?”
“I participated like everybody else.”
“It was reported to me that you stood aside, didn’t beat up Jews, didn’t smash shop windows. Why?”
“I did my best,” said Karl quietly.
Schreider didn’t take his penetrating eyes off him.
“Your wife is Jewish, Rink, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And I assume you’ll tell me that has nothing to do with your standing aside in demonstrations against the Jews.”
“It has nothing to do with it,” Karl lied weakly.
“You live together or apart?” Schreider wanted to know.
“What do you mean, Commander?”
“You know, of course, that the Nuremberg Laws annulled all marriages between Aryans and Jews. In fact, you’re forbidden to be married to a Jew.”
“I know.”
“They tell me that you continue to live with your wife, against the law.”
“Correct.”
“Rink,” the SS officer continued, “our Führer is leading Germany and the whole world to a new age. Revolutionary changes are in process. We need good men who will give a hand and carry out the exalted mission assigned to us. We need you, Karl.”
“I’ll carry out every order, sir.”
Not a muscle moved in Schreider’s face.
“Of course, it’s clear to you,” he said harshly, “that you’ll have to decide between us and your wife. You can’t be faithful to the party and to the Jews at the same time. You have to separate from her.”
“She won’t get in the way.” Karl Rink tried to persuade the commander. “The fact that my wife is a Jew has never stifled my devotion to our ideal.”
“Look, Rink,” hissed Schreider, “so far we haven’t pressed you because we thought you’d come to the right conclusion by yourself. Now you have to decide: either her or us. There’s no other possibility.”
“May I ask something?”
“No.” Schreider’s patience ran out.
“I need a little more time.”
The commander glared at him.
“A loyal SS man,” he said, “has to be able to sacrifice everything for the Reich. We expect only one thing will be important to ourpeople: victory. Family may not be the top priority for an SS man. Are you clear?”
“Yes,” muttered Rink.
“When will you divorce her?”
“Soon.”
“That’s not good enough, Karl. Get divorced this week.”
Rink stood helpless, desperately seeking an answer.
“This week,” Schreider repeated the order. “Understood, Karl?”
Karl Rink rode his motorcycle aimlessly in the wet streets of the city. He didn’t hurry home. He needed time to think, to decide, and it was hard, harder than any fateful issue he had ever
“The commander is expecting you,” said Baumer.
“What does he want?”
“I have no idea.”
Baumer led Rink to Schreider’s big office. On the wall was a large photo of Hitler and the swastika flag hung behind the desk.
Karl straightened up, raised his right hand, and shouted “Heil Hitler!”
Schreider sat up in his leather chair and returned his greeting with raised arm. He was stocky and bald, with a tic in the corner of his mouth.
“Leave us alone,” he said to Baumer.
“Karl Rink.” He addressed his underling in an official tone. “You’ve been with us now for seven years, correct?”
“Seven years and two months.”
“You’ve won a lot of praise, Rink. I’ve read the reports on your activity, your devotion to the Führer. There are good chances that you’ll be promoted and given more responsibility.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“But I wanted to clarify a few things. First of all, I got a report on the activities of our men in the retaliation we carried out against the Jews. Among other things, I was told that you didn’t really take part in the operation.”
“I was there.”
“You were. But what did you do?”
“I participated like everybody else.”
“It was reported to me that you stood aside, didn’t beat up Jews, didn’t smash shop windows. Why?”
“I did my best,” said Karl quietly.
Schreider didn’t take his penetrating eyes off him.
“Your wife is Jewish, Rink, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And I assume you’ll tell me that has nothing to do with your standing aside in demonstrations against the Jews.”
“It has nothing to do with it,” Karl lied weakly.
“You live together or apart?” Schreider wanted to know.
“What do you mean, Commander?”
“You know, of course, that the Nuremberg Laws annulled all marriages between Aryans and Jews. In fact, you’re forbidden to be married to a Jew.”
“I know.”
“They tell me that you continue to live with your wife, against the law.”
“Correct.”
“Rink,” the SS officer continued, “our Führer is leading Germany and the whole world to a new age. Revolutionary changes are in process. We need good men who will give a hand and carry out the exalted mission assigned to us. We need you, Karl.”
“I’ll carry out every order, sir.”
Not a muscle moved in Schreider’s face.
“Of course, it’s clear to you,” he said harshly, “that you’ll have to decide between us and your wife. You can’t be faithful to the party and to the Jews at the same time. You have to separate from her.”
“She won’t get in the way.” Karl Rink tried to persuade the commander. “The fact that my wife is a Jew has never stifled my devotion to our ideal.”
“Look, Rink,” hissed Schreider, “so far we haven’t pressed you because we thought you’d come to the right conclusion by yourself. Now you have to decide: either her or us. There’s no other possibility.”
“May I ask something?”
“No.” Schreider’s patience ran out.
“I need a little more time.”
The commander glared at him.
“A loyal SS man,” he said, “has to be able to sacrifice everything for the Reich. We expect only one thing will be important to ourpeople: victory. Family may not be the top priority for an SS man. Are you clear?”
“Yes,” muttered Rink.
“When will you divorce her?”
“Soon.”
“That’s not good enough, Karl. Get divorced this week.”
Rink stood helpless, desperately seeking an answer.
“This week,” Schreider repeated the order. “Understood, Karl?”
Karl Rink rode his motorcycle aimlessly in the wet streets of the city. He didn’t hurry home. He needed time to think, to decide, and it was hard, harder than any fateful issue he had ever
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