The Kindly Ones

The important thing, I saw clearly, was for the RSHA not to have too many objections; if the project was acceptable to them, Department D IV of the WVHA couldn’t oppose it. So I called Eichmann to sound him out: “Ah, my dear Sturmbannführer Aue! Meet with me? It’s just that I’m absolutely snowed under at the moment. Yes, Italy, and something else too. Tonight, then? For a drink. There’s a little café not too far from my office, at the corner of Potsdamerstrasse. Yes, next to the U-Bahn entrance. Till tonight, then.” When he arrived, he flopped onto the banquette with a sigh and threw his cap on the table, massaging the bridge of his nose. I had already ordered two glasses of schnapps and I offered him a cigarette, which he took with pleasure, leaning back in the banquette with his legs crossed, one arm thrown over the back. Between puffs he chewed his lower lip; his broad bare forehead reflected the lights of the café. “So, Italy?” I asked.—“The problem isn’t so much Italy—well, we’ll get eight or ten thousand of them there, of course—it’s mostly the zones that they occupied: with their imbecilic policies they’ve become paradise for Jews. They’re everywhere! In the South of France, the Dalmatian coast, the Italian zone in Greece. I sent teams right away pretty much everywhere, but it’s going to be a big job; with the transport problems on top of that, it won’t get done in a day. In Nice, with the benefit of surprise, we managed to arrest a few thousand; but the French police are becoming less and less cooperative, and that complicates matters. We lack resources terribly. And also Denmark is worrying us a lot.”—“Denmark?”—“Yes. It should have been quite simple, but it’s become a real mess. Günther is furious. Did I tell you I sent him there?”—“Yes. What happened?”—“I don’t know exactly. According to Günther, it’s Dr. Best, the ambassador, who’s playing a weird game. You know him, don’t you?” Eichmann emptied his schnapps in one gulp and ordered another. “He was my superior,” I replied. “Before the war.”—“Yes, well, I don’t know what’s on his mind now. For months and months, he’s been doing everything he can to get in our way, under the pretext that it’s going to…”—he made a repeated gesture from top to bottom—“interfere with his policy of cooperation. And then in August, after the riots, when we imposed a state of emergency, we said, fine, let’s do it. On-site, there’s a new BdS, Dr. Mildner, but he’s already overwhelmed; what’s more the Wehrmacht immediately refused to cooperate, that’s why I sent Günther, to get things going. So we prepared everything, a boat for the four thousand who are in Copenhagen, trains for the others, and then Best keeps creating difficulties. He always has an objection, the Danish, the Wehrmacht, e tutti quanti

. What’s more, this was supposed to stay a secret, so we could round them all up at once, without their expecting it, but Günther says they already know everything. It looks like it’s off to a pretty bad start.”—“So where are you at now?”—“It’s planned for a few days from now. We’ll do it all at once, there aren’t all that many of them anyway. I called Günther and said to him, Günther, my friend, if that’s the way it is, tell Mildner to move the date up, but Best refused. Too sensitive, he had to talk some more with the Danes. Günther thinks he’s doing it on purpose so it’ll fail.”—“But I know Dr. Best well: he’s anything but a friend of the Jews. You’d have a hard time finding a better National Socialist than him.” Eichmann made a face: “Mmmh. You know, politics change people. Well, we’ll see. Me, I’m covered, we prepared everything, planned everything, if it goes wrong, it won’t fall on my shoulders, I’m telling you that right now. But how about your project, how’s that going?”