the minutes!’
‘ The Protocols of the Wise Men of Zion ,’ said Uhl grimly.
I said, ‘Ah now, Commandant. One gathers that some people have their doubts about the Protocols .’
‘Oh do they,’ said Doll. ‘Well I hereby refer them to Mein Kampf , which makes the point quite brilliantly. I can’t remember it word for word, but this is the gist. Uh . . . The Times of London says again and again that the document is a fabrication. That alone is proof of its authenticity . . . Devastating, nicht? Absolutely unanswerable.’
‘Yes – put that in your pipe and smoke it!’ said Zulz.
‘They’re bloodsuckers,’ said Zulz’s wife, Trudel, crinkling her nose. ‘They’re like bedbugs.’
Hannah said, ‘May I speak?’
Doll turned on her his highwayman’s stare.
‘Well, it’s a basic point,’ she said. ‘There’s no avoiding it. I mean the talent for deception. And the avarice. A child could see it.’ She breathed in and went on, ‘They promise you the earth, all smiles, they lead you down the garden path. And then they strip you of everything you have.’
Did I imagine it? This would have been quite standard talk from an SS Hausfrau; but the words seemed to equivocate in the candlelight.
‘. . . That’s all undeniable, Hannah,’ said Zulz, looking puzzled. Then his face cleared. ‘Now, however, we’re giving the Jew a taste of his own medicine.’
‘Now the boot is on the other foot,’ said Uhl.
‘Now we’re paying him back in his own coin,’ said Doll. ‘And he’s laughing on the other side of his face. No, Mrs Uhl. We didn’t undertake this lightly. We know what we’re about, I believe.’
While the salads and the cheese and the fruit and the cakes and the coffee and the port and the schnapps were being steered round the table, Hannah paid her third visit to the upper floor.
‘They’re going down like ninepins now,’ Doll was saying. ‘It’s almost a shame to take the money.’ He held up a bulbous hand and ticked them off – ‘Sevastopol. Voronezh. Kharkov. Rostov.’
‘Yes,’ said Uhl, ‘and wait till we’ve punched our way across the Volga. We’ve bombed the stuffing out of Stalingrad. And now it’s there for the taking.’
‘You chaps’, said Doll (referring to Seedig, Burckl, and me), ‘might as well pack up and go home. All right, we’ll still need your rubber. But we won’t need your fuel. Not with the oilfields of the Caucasus at our mercy. Well? Did you spank their bottoms blue?’
Doll’s question was directed at his wife, who was ducking in under the lintel and moving out of the shadows into the wriggling light. She sat and said,
‘They’re asleep.’
‘God and all his angels be praised! What a load of bloody nonsense .’ Doll’s head slewed back round and he said, ‘Judaeo-Bolshevism will be smashed by the end of the year. Then it’ll be the turn of the Americans.’
‘Their armed forces are pathetic ,’ said Uhl. ‘Sixteen divisions. About the same as Bulgaria. How many B-17 bombers? Nineteen. It’s a joke.’
‘They’ve got trucks running around on manoeuvres,’ said Zulz, ‘with Tank painted on their sides.’
‘America will make no difference,’ said Uhl. ‘Nil. We won’t even feel its thumb on the scale.’
Frithuric Burckl, who had barely spoken, now said quietly, ‘That was very far from being our experience in the Great War. Once that economy gets going . . .’
I said, ‘Oh, incidentally. Did you know this, Major? There was another conference in Berlin on that same day in January. Chaired by Fritz Todt. Armaments. About restructuring the economy. About preparing for the long haul.’
‘Defatismus!’ laughed Doll. ‘Wehrkraftzersetzung!’
‘Not a bit of it, sir,’ I laughed back. ‘The German army. The German army is like a force of nature – irresistible. But it’s got to be equipped and supplied. The difficulty is manpower.’
‘As they empty the factories,’ said Burckl, ‘and put
‘ The Protocols of the Wise Men of Zion ,’ said Uhl grimly.
I said, ‘Ah now, Commandant. One gathers that some people have their doubts about the Protocols .’
‘Oh do they,’ said Doll. ‘Well I hereby refer them to Mein Kampf , which makes the point quite brilliantly. I can’t remember it word for word, but this is the gist. Uh . . . The Times of London says again and again that the document is a fabrication. That alone is proof of its authenticity . . . Devastating, nicht? Absolutely unanswerable.’
‘Yes – put that in your pipe and smoke it!’ said Zulz.
‘They’re bloodsuckers,’ said Zulz’s wife, Trudel, crinkling her nose. ‘They’re like bedbugs.’
Hannah said, ‘May I speak?’
Doll turned on her his highwayman’s stare.
‘Well, it’s a basic point,’ she said. ‘There’s no avoiding it. I mean the talent for deception. And the avarice. A child could see it.’ She breathed in and went on, ‘They promise you the earth, all smiles, they lead you down the garden path. And then they strip you of everything you have.’
Did I imagine it? This would have been quite standard talk from an SS Hausfrau; but the words seemed to equivocate in the candlelight.
‘. . . That’s all undeniable, Hannah,’ said Zulz, looking puzzled. Then his face cleared. ‘Now, however, we’re giving the Jew a taste of his own medicine.’
‘Now the boot is on the other foot,’ said Uhl.
‘Now we’re paying him back in his own coin,’ said Doll. ‘And he’s laughing on the other side of his face. No, Mrs Uhl. We didn’t undertake this lightly. We know what we’re about, I believe.’
While the salads and the cheese and the fruit and the cakes and the coffee and the port and the schnapps were being steered round the table, Hannah paid her third visit to the upper floor.
‘They’re going down like ninepins now,’ Doll was saying. ‘It’s almost a shame to take the money.’ He held up a bulbous hand and ticked them off – ‘Sevastopol. Voronezh. Kharkov. Rostov.’
‘Yes,’ said Uhl, ‘and wait till we’ve punched our way across the Volga. We’ve bombed the stuffing out of Stalingrad. And now it’s there for the taking.’
‘You chaps’, said Doll (referring to Seedig, Burckl, and me), ‘might as well pack up and go home. All right, we’ll still need your rubber. But we won’t need your fuel. Not with the oilfields of the Caucasus at our mercy. Well? Did you spank their bottoms blue?’
Doll’s question was directed at his wife, who was ducking in under the lintel and moving out of the shadows into the wriggling light. She sat and said,
‘They’re asleep.’
‘God and all his angels be praised! What a load of bloody nonsense .’ Doll’s head slewed back round and he said, ‘Judaeo-Bolshevism will be smashed by the end of the year. Then it’ll be the turn of the Americans.’
‘Their armed forces are pathetic ,’ said Uhl. ‘Sixteen divisions. About the same as Bulgaria. How many B-17 bombers? Nineteen. It’s a joke.’
‘They’ve got trucks running around on manoeuvres,’ said Zulz, ‘with Tank painted on their sides.’
‘America will make no difference,’ said Uhl. ‘Nil. We won’t even feel its thumb on the scale.’
Frithuric Burckl, who had barely spoken, now said quietly, ‘That was very far from being our experience in the Great War. Once that economy gets going . . .’
I said, ‘Oh, incidentally. Did you know this, Major? There was another conference in Berlin on that same day in January. Chaired by Fritz Todt. Armaments. About restructuring the economy. About preparing for the long haul.’
‘Defatismus!’ laughed Doll. ‘Wehrkraftzersetzung!’
‘Not a bit of it, sir,’ I laughed back. ‘The German army. The German army is like a force of nature – irresistible. But it’s got to be equipped and supplied. The difficulty is manpower.’
‘As they empty the factories,’ said Burckl, ‘and put
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