Krueger's Men by Lawrence Malkin

Author:Lawrence Malkin [MALKIN, LAWRENCE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HIS000000
ISBN: 9780316029162
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2008-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

As the pressure of producing more pounds slacked off, and apprehension rose about progress toward acceptable replicas of dollars, the prisoners amused themselves and even satirized their jailers in a way that was unique in the entire network of Nazi camps. From late in 1943, Die “Moneymakers” von Sachsenhausen had been staging musical evenings. Their easiest task was, of course, printing the programs featuring their own names. But now the Saturday-night cabarets grew increasingly elaborate and purposeful. At the end of Block 19, packing cases from the paper shipments formed the stage and blankets curtained it off. In the front row sat Krueger and his subordinates, starved for entertainment. Krueger occasionally contributed a barrel of beer. As master of ceremonies, Max Bober welcomed his audience with a flattering and in fact wholly accurate description of “a distinguished group of connoisseurs from all parts of Europe. I daresay that not many artists have ever performed before a more cosmopolitan public.”

The prisoners stirred uncomfortably in their seats lest the SS take offense. Bober, paying no heed, dripped barracks sarcasm as he introduced Hans Blass, a Viennese factory worker with the accordion that the disgraced guard Weber had received — “at least that is what he insisted, as a gift from one of his Jewish admirers.” Blass serenaded them with sentimental German songs and Viennese schmaltz, diverting attention from two Czechs, Oskar Stein and Alfred Pick, who were sneaking toward the temporarily deserted guardroom. The show must go on — indeed had to go on. “Three troubadours, Max, Moritz, and Harry” — Groen from Amsterdam, Nachtstern from Oslo, and Stolowicz from Brussels — were brought forward by Bober to belt out that Maurice Chevalier favorite of the Paris cafés, “Valentine.” Groen, the Dutch newsreel cameraman, who had been based in Paris before the war and was a boulevardier par excellence, regarded it as his lucky song and had sung it on the ramp approaching the selection at Auschwitz. He taught it phonetically to Nachtstern, since the Norwegian anarchist knew not a word of French.

Suddenly they noticed one guard whisper to another. He rose and headed toward the guardroom, where Stein and Pick were stooped down trying to find the BBC wavelength on the radio. Bober spotted the guard and was prepared: at his signal, Blass switched harmonies to a shrill, discordant note, as if a key on his accordion had stuck. The intruders managed to conceal themselves in the guardroom shadows, and the show went on. As the guard slithered back to his seat, the curtains parted to disclose a blowup of a dollar bill, roughly three by six feet. Two tiny windows in the bill swung open and out popped the heads of Levi and Groen, singing:

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