Surviving Hitler: The Unlikely True Story of an SS Soldier and a Jewish Woman by O. Håkan Palm

Author:O. Håkan Palm [Palm, O. Håkan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: WWII, History, True Story
Publisher: Deseret Book Company
Published: 2014-07-06T21:00:00+00:00

Gustav

February 1945, Liepāaja, Latvia

With two weeks still remaining on my prescribed rehabilitation time, the doctor received orders to declare healthy as many soldiers as possible from the Nordland Division. He made extra rounds to endeavor to determine who could be declared healthy and fit for combat.

In the hospital, I met another Norwegian, who also suffered from yellow fever, and we became friends. We, of course, did not know why the order was given. We speculated that the Nordland might be used in an operation to break through to Germany or that we might be sent by sea to help in the defense of the fatherland.

Another long journey now began. Mile after mile, we traveled by train through the gloomy landscape, heading for Liepāaja, a city in western Latvia on the Baltic Sea. There we saw a few civilians remaining but not many. A Dutchman was in command of our platoon, and when we reached Liepāaja, he went inside the station and reported to his superiors. When he returned, we immediately saw that he carried good news. We were to remain in Liepāaja a few days and then travel by sea to Germany. This was the best news we had received in a long time, and we rejoiced that the moment finally had come when we would get out of that death trap called Bridgehead Courland. As we saw it, staying there would lead to certain death or captivity in Russia, which probably meant the same thing.

Now we waited to go, and several nights we were ordered to prepare for departure, but each time we lined up at the docks, we were told to return to the barracks and wait. One afternoon, while walking down to the ship, we passed a few soldiers unloading dead German soldiers from a truck. This was inside the city and the bodies were taken through a gate, probably to a cemetery on the other side of the fence.

From what we could see, the bodies were all without shoes. By now we had seen so many dead bodies that we were generally unfeeling; however, somehow it appeared horrible to see them barefoot in the snow. Certainly they were dead, but it appeared so atrocious to see naked, thin, white legs, poking out below the pant legs in the winter cold. I suppose the reason their legs and feet were naked made sense in the logic of war where sentimental feelings have no place. Shoes and socks could continue to warm the feet of other soldiers, and it made sense to remove the boots from the fallen soldiers, rather than to let the living go without.

A young Romanian about eighteen years old silently watched the unloading of the bodies for a long time, and suddenly a few phrases from the German propaganda worked their way through his mind and out of his mouth. He looked up into the sky and yelled out with great sarcasm, “Happy people, who have been allowed to fight for ‘our great Fatherland!’”

He shook his head frantically and with great despair and tears in his eyes walked away.

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