It was at this stage in our imprisonment
that political interrogations began. They were held mostly at night or
after we had finished our work. One by one, with the aid of a card file
that had been set up, every prisoner was systematically put through questioning.
The main purpose was to search out SS members and any other men who could
be suspected from the data of having committed crimes against humanity.
A secret organization existed within
the camp, comprised mainly of German prisoners who had always been communists.
They had the task of overhearing our conversations and keeping the Commissar
informed. In doing this, they used a very sneaky but effective method.
On suitable occasions they would begin political conversations in the rooms
or during work breaks, during which they either complained mightily about
the Bolshevist system or boasted about their own "heroic deeds" in occupied
Russia - how they had set vlllages on fire and "liquidated" prisoners.
Cleverly they introduced Nazi turns of expression into their speech, all
with the intention of drawing comrades out of their reservations and inducing
them to make some incriminating remark.
Many comrades who fell for these tricks
would then be extremely surprised one day to be called before the Commissar
and told as consummate truth that they had, at such and such a place and
such and such a date, mistreated prisoners, killed civilians, set houses
on fire, etc. During such interrogations, whoever did not immediately admit
to the crimes which had been read before him would be forced to do so with
all sorts of barbarities. Here are just a few examples of many:
One sergeant from the Army Panzer
Troop, who wore a black uniform, was accused on account of this uniform
of having been an SS man. When he denied this, he was thrashed with a table
leg and then locked in the ice bunker for two days without food. He was
then newly interrogated. Again he refused to sign the paper which was laid
before him. Again he was beaten and thrown in the ice bunker for three
days with only bread and water. At the third hearing, he was conspicuously
treated with great friendliness. The Commissar led him into the kitchen,
and offered to let him eat whatever was available. He would be allowed
to eat as much as he wanted, if only he signed. When even this method did
not produce the desired results, he landed in the ice bunker again for
another five days. Completely exhausted, sick in both body and heart, they
dragged the broken man again before his hangman. He did then what many
did, just to get some peace. He signed.
A certain Mr."F" stood on a list of
war criminals which had arrived from Moscow. There was a prisoner of the
same name in our camp, who also somewhat fit the external description given
on the Moscow wanted list. He too was beaten, locked up, and tortured for
so long that he finally gave into the demands of the Commissar as well.
An older soldier was accused by an
alleged eyewitness of having previously been an SS member and of having
changed into a Gl uniform shortly before he was taken prisoner. During
an investigation, pictures of himself as a soldier with Russian prisoners
had been found. He was locked up several times and beaten in the usual
manner, after which his interrogators hit upon an especially fiendish method
of
torture. They clamped his fingertips between the door and made him stand
as long as he could under this unspeakable pain. In an unguarded moment,
driven to the very edge of despair, he ran then to the window to throw
himself out from the second floor, but they caught him and pulled him back
at the last moment.
The unmerciful methods and the general
spy tactics used on individual comrades led to a tortuous fate for many
innocent men. The realization that they had been wrongly judged caused
many of these ignominiously betrayed prisoners, who had been sold for Judas
money, to lose their sanity. There were also perfectly villainous creatures
among our ranks, who most likely had something to hide themselves, and
therefore tried to lay all the suspicion on others. We would never have
believed that some prisoners could condemn one of their own countrymen
to certain death just for a bit of bread, an extra ration of soup or a
somewhat more comfortable life.
Everyone who was branded, both guilty
and innocent, was assigned together to the so-called "stool pigeon brigade".
These men were penned together, like cattle, in large numbers in tiny rooms
with only one grilled overhead light. They were no longer allowed to leave
the camp or often not even their rooms for days. They worried for months
over the uncertainty of their fates because nothing conclusive was ever
done with them, and they were also tormented by the fear that they would
be accused of even more crimes. The evil practices of these denunciations
were carried out in the dirtiest manner.
Later, the prisoners in the "stool
pigeon brigade" were carried off in specially guarded and barred GPU (Soviet
secret police) wagons \ to where, no one knew. The fate of these prisoners
is still unknown to this day \ most likely, not one of them ever returned
home again.
Once in May 1947, I heard that these
men, at least the ones who could not disprove the claims that had been
set against them, had been gathered together in a central transit camp
and judged (after further interrogations) then and there by a Russian military
tribunal and sentenced to forced labor in Siberia. Many probably
died or were "misplaced" after being assured that they would be sent home
"but not right away".
But back to the camp. One day, I was
at the gate, ready to march out to the work area. Suddenly there came the
order "Inspection!". A large watch commando appeared and examined each
of us from head to foot. They had discovered that some prisoners were engaged
in active black-market trading with civilians in the shafts.
Men who were found guilty were beaten
on the spot and sentenced to three months detail with the punishment brigade.
This punishment brigade differed from the other brigades mostly by the
fact that its members received much less to eat (400 grams of bread and
a smaller amount of soup). They also had to work two hours longer and were
always assigned to the hardest labor. As mentioned previously, this brigade
was billeted in their own block, which had additional barbed wire and much
stricter observation.
Day after day of working in the damp
mines combined with the substantial decrease in rations served to make
punishment brigade men ready for the hospital in no time at all. The only
way to get out of this brigade before one's time was to distinguish oneself
through special accomplishments and irreproachable self-control. Only with
such men was there some hope for the success of a so-called "plea for mercy"
accompanied by the recommendation of the commanding Natschalnik.
Every day, these prisoners projected the same pitiful image of disconsolation.
Each day, even before the gates opened
for our departure, many of these men collapsed from sheer weakness. No
one bothered about them until the work brigades had left the camp. Then,
the brutal work inspector would arrive to inspect the new "offerings" up
close, and a number of Russian officers would join in, mostly to make fun
of the pitiful men doubled over with cold and hunger.
Like cattle, these poor men were assaulted
by officers' boots and asked derisively what they needed and why they did
not want to work. Most of them did not even have the strength to answer,
not that they would have wanted to, knowing that these men would not have
believed or cared about anything they said anyway. So they lay like dogs
in the snow, in the cold of the Russian winter, and wondered whether this
would be their last hour on earth.
The work inspector would continue
clamoring with rage. Human beings meant nothing to him, especially those
who were prisoners. Sick prisoners did not even exist.
***
Spring came again to Russia. Our sufferings
abated with thedisappearance of the winter frost and cold, which had made
life especially difficult. The survivors were happy to have overcome yet
another winter. In spite of our misery, many of us continued to hope
that we might be lucky enough to spend the next winter at home.
In the daily reports, there was always
news of heavy street fighting in Berlin. Once I accidentally ran across
an issue of "Free Germany," which reported heavy street fighting in my
home state of Saarland as well - especially near my hometown in Saarlouis.
It was dated December, 1944.
During one evening roll call, the
German propagandist announced that the surrender of Germany was now only
a question of time. The combined allied forces (or the "second front" as
they were referred to by the Russians) had already conquered Germany up
to a narrow strip in Nordschleswig, and most of the country to the East
was already occupied by the Red Army.