Read Online Once We Were Brothers by Ronald H. Balson - Free Book Online
Authors: Ronald H. Balson
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, LEGAL, Philanthropists, Historical, Nazis, Law, Chicago (Ill.), Poland, Holocaust survivors
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every time I go to Berlin. I don’t know how much longer I’ll go there.’
“He pointed a fork at my father, ‘As crazy as Hitler is, Abraham, that’s how crazy this Himmler is. Maybe even more. He’s got himself a castle in Westphalia, a big medieval fortress up in the mountains, and he calls it Wewelsburg. He runs it like King Arthur.’
“‘Oh, come on Ziggy.’
“‘That’s what I hear. My customers tell me. He sits with twelve of his generals around a big round table like they’re the Knights of the Round Table. And they say that he has a crypt beneath the dining hall he calls the “Realm of the Dead,” encircled by twelve pedestals.’ Ziggy opened his eyes very wide, leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. ‘If one of his twelve knights dies, then they’re going to cremate him and put his ashes in an urn to sit on one of the pedestals in the “Realm of the Dead.”’ He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.
“My mother put her foot down. ‘Stop telling this nonsense, these crazy horror stories, Ziggy, you’re going to give my kids nightmares.’
“‘It’s nonsense, is it Leah? It’s crazy? Well, it’s happening right now. The SS wear rings with skulls on them. They march through the streets and sing, “We are the Black Band.” They’ve got this medieval caste with ranks and privileges and customs. They believe in dueling as a way of defending one’s honor. Honor , mind you. These cutthroats think they have honor and Himmler’s made it all legal.’
“Ziggy held a butter knife over his upper lip to mimic Hitler’s moustache, waved a spoon like a sword and screeched in a Teutonic accent, ‘A German has the right to defend his honor by force of arms!’ The kids all laughed, but not my mother or father.
“Then Ziggy grew serious again and pointed his finger. ‘Here’s the scariest part, Abraham. He has the support of the entire German economy. All the captains of industry and banking bow to him. Butefisch from IG Farben. Schacht from the Reichsbank. The Duetsche Bank. Even German-American companies. Himmler writes his own ticket. I tell you, this is no longer just rabble.’”
“What was your father’s response to all this?” Catherine said.
“Generally, my parents felt like most Poles, that this was German insanity and would be confined within the German borders. But there was an air of uncertainty, even back then.
“‘These may be radical lunatics,’ my father said, ‘but once they have the banks and industry behind them, they have the might of the German economy, the strongest economy in all of Europe.’ And that was all in 1935, four years before the war.”
Ben took a sip of tea. “I also remember a dinner discussion that took place a year later in 1936. After the meal Father and Ziggy retired to the living room for a brandy, while Mother and Beka cleared the dishes. Ziggy lit up his pipe, a big burled wooden thing that looked like a tree stump. I remember it quite well because my mother always complained that the smoke left a stale odor on her curtains.
“‘Germany has eighty million people and their hatred is spilling over into Poland,’ said my father. ‘We have trouble in the streets right now in Zamość. My Beka was attacked just last month, Ziggy. I’m afraid there may come a time when we have to move from the city, maybe to Papa’s farm in the country.’
“‘Or leave Poland, Abraham.’
“My father nodded solemnly, ‘Perhaps, but I don’t think it will ever come to that. Hitler may be a maniac, but people in Poland are good people. They won’t join with Hitler. This will pass.’
“‘It isn’t joining that frightens me,’ Ziggy said. ‘It’s the good people of Poland being annihilated that scares the hell out of me.’”
“And Otto?” Catherine said. “His parents were members of the Nazi party. He had German blood. What was his reaction to all this?”
“Same as me. We were kids. We were indestructible. If the Germans
“He pointed a fork at my father, ‘As crazy as Hitler is, Abraham, that’s how crazy this Himmler is. Maybe even more. He’s got himself a castle in Westphalia, a big medieval fortress up in the mountains, and he calls it Wewelsburg. He runs it like King Arthur.’
“‘Oh, come on Ziggy.’
“‘That’s what I hear. My customers tell me. He sits with twelve of his generals around a big round table like they’re the Knights of the Round Table. And they say that he has a crypt beneath the dining hall he calls the “Realm of the Dead,” encircled by twelve pedestals.’ Ziggy opened his eyes very wide, leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. ‘If one of his twelve knights dies, then they’re going to cremate him and put his ashes in an urn to sit on one of the pedestals in the “Realm of the Dead.”’ He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.
“My mother put her foot down. ‘Stop telling this nonsense, these crazy horror stories, Ziggy, you’re going to give my kids nightmares.’
“‘It’s nonsense, is it Leah? It’s crazy? Well, it’s happening right now. The SS wear rings with skulls on them. They march through the streets and sing, “We are the Black Band.” They’ve got this medieval caste with ranks and privileges and customs. They believe in dueling as a way of defending one’s honor. Honor , mind you. These cutthroats think they have honor and Himmler’s made it all legal.’
“Ziggy held a butter knife over his upper lip to mimic Hitler’s moustache, waved a spoon like a sword and screeched in a Teutonic accent, ‘A German has the right to defend his honor by force of arms!’ The kids all laughed, but not my mother or father.
“Then Ziggy grew serious again and pointed his finger. ‘Here’s the scariest part, Abraham. He has the support of the entire German economy. All the captains of industry and banking bow to him. Butefisch from IG Farben. Schacht from the Reichsbank. The Duetsche Bank. Even German-American companies. Himmler writes his own ticket. I tell you, this is no longer just rabble.’”
“What was your father’s response to all this?” Catherine said.
“Generally, my parents felt like most Poles, that this was German insanity and would be confined within the German borders. But there was an air of uncertainty, even back then.
“‘These may be radical lunatics,’ my father said, ‘but once they have the banks and industry behind them, they have the might of the German economy, the strongest economy in all of Europe.’ And that was all in 1935, four years before the war.”
Ben took a sip of tea. “I also remember a dinner discussion that took place a year later in 1936. After the meal Father and Ziggy retired to the living room for a brandy, while Mother and Beka cleared the dishes. Ziggy lit up his pipe, a big burled wooden thing that looked like a tree stump. I remember it quite well because my mother always complained that the smoke left a stale odor on her curtains.
“‘Germany has eighty million people and their hatred is spilling over into Poland,’ said my father. ‘We have trouble in the streets right now in Zamość. My Beka was attacked just last month, Ziggy. I’m afraid there may come a time when we have to move from the city, maybe to Papa’s farm in the country.’
“‘Or leave Poland, Abraham.’
“My father nodded solemnly, ‘Perhaps, but I don’t think it will ever come to that. Hitler may be a maniac, but people in Poland are good people. They won’t join with Hitler. This will pass.’
“‘It isn’t joining that frightens me,’ Ziggy said. ‘It’s the good people of Poland being annihilated that scares the hell out of me.’”
“And Otto?” Catherine said. “His parents were members of the Nazi party. He had German blood. What was his reaction to all this?”
“Same as me. We were kids. We were indestructible. If the Germans
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