The Kindly Ones

In fact, deep in the hold of the Reich, the rats were getting agitated, squealing, swarming, bristling with a formidable anxiety. Ever since Italy’s defection, tensions with our other allies let networks of fine cracks appear on the surface of our relations. Each, in his own way, was beginning to look for a way out, and that way was not German. Schellenberg, according to Thomas, believed the Romanians were negotiating with the Soviets in Stockholm. But mostly people talked about the Hungarians. Russian forces had taken Lutsk and Rovno; if Galicia fell into their hands, they would find themselves at Hungary’s gates. For more than a year, in diplomatic circles, Prime Minister Kállay had conscientiously been forging for himself a reputation as the worst friend of Germany. The Hungarian attitude on the Jewish question also posed problems: not only did they not want to go beyond a discriminatory legislation that was, given the circumstances, particularly inadequate—the Jews of Hungary maintained important positions in industry; and half-Jews, or men married to Jews, in government—but, still having a considerable supply of Jewish labor, much of it highly skilled, they refused all German requests to make part of this force available for the war effort. Already in the beginning of February, during conferences involving experts from different departments, these questions were beginning to be discussed: I sometimes attended them myself or sent one of my specialists. The RSHA advocated a change of regime; my participation was limited to studies on the possible employment of Hungarian Jewish workers in case the situation evolved favorably. Within that framework, I held a series of consultations with Speer’s collaborators. But their positions were often strangely contradictory and hard to reconcile. Speer himself remained inaccessible; he was said to be in critical condition. It was rather disconcerting: I felt as if I were making plans in the void, accumulating studies that were worth scarcely more than pieces of fiction. Yet my office was filling out: I now had three specialist officers, and Brandt had promised me a fourth; but the awkwardness of my position made itself felt; to drive my suggestions forward, I had little support, neither from the RSHA, despite my connections at the SD, nor from the WVHA, aside from Maurer sometimes, when it suited him.