A good little puppy dog who would help him rule his district.
Paul Bronski was led by Koenig through a series of connecting offices to that of the Kommissar of Warsaw. Rudolph Schreiker sat behind the desk. His personal vanity made him a striking figure. He was a large, strong man with square black German features. Franz Koenig took his place at Schreiker’s right.
“They are all here,” Koenig said.
Paul Bronski recognized the other men. Silberberg, the playwright. There was Marinski, who controlled most of the leather factories around lower Gensia Street, and Schoenfeld, the most brilliant of Warsaw’s Jewish lawyers and a former member of the Polish Parliament. Seidman, an engineer, was there and Colonel Weiss, one of the highest-ranking Jews of the Polish army. Goldman, an outstanding musician who had at one time taught both Deborah and Rachael. He was known as a strong Zionist among the intellectuals. Finally, there was Boris Presser. Presser seemed out of place in an otherwise distinguished gathering. He was a merchant, the owner of a large department store, but completely unnoted politically or socially in Warsaw.
The eight of them fidgeted before Schreiker’s desk. The Kommissar looked from one to the other slowly, examining each and playing the game of invoking his power and authority by deliberate mannerism.
“For reasons of racial inferiority,” Schreiker said, “we deem it necessary for the Jews to govern themselves separately from the other citizens, under our directives. You eight men have been selected as the executive board of the Jewish Civil Authority. Each one of you will be responsible for a specific department—welfare, health, professions, properties, and so forth. Which of you is Goldman?”
The famed musician and idealist stepped forward. Although aged, Goldman showed the flash and color of a virtuoso.
“You will be in charge, Goldman. You will report directly to me. You others will receive your directives from Dr. Koenig.”
Koenig spoke. “You will occupy the premises at Grzybowska 28 immediately and set up offices. Your first task will be to take a census of the Jews in the Warsaw district. As soon as each Jew registers with your Civil Authority he will be issued a Kennkarte, which will also serve as a basis for a ration book. Any Jew found at the end of three weeks without a Kennkarte will be punished by death.”
“I expect this registration to be carried out efficiently,” Schreiker added, “or there will be a new Civil Authority in short order. You will be advised of further directives. You are dismissed.”
They shuffled for the door, dazed.
“One more thing for now,” Schreiker said, standing up and walking around to the front of his desk. He was a large and obviously powerful man and wanted to make certain the others saw it. “We have thousands of young virile soldiers in our garrison who require diversion. You will supply a list of women who will take care of their requirements. We will need at least fifty or sixty to start; the choice ones will be fortunate to serve in an officers’ brothel.”
They looked from one to the other, desperate for one of them to have the courage to speak out.
Schreiker snatched a paper with their names. “Who is Silberberg?”
Silberberg stepped forward, trembling. All his courage went into the words he wrote. “You are a playwright! You must know actresses.” Silberberg’s thin chest was pained with fear. He drew a deep breath and spit on the floor. Schreiker ran across the room and stopped in front of him. The playwright closed his eyes, waiting for the blow. It came across the bridge of his nose. He sank to his knees, holding his gory face in his hands, temporarily blinded. Goldman knelt beside him quickly.
“Get away from him!”
“Go on, hit me too, you brave man,” Goldman challenged.
Schreiker spun around quickly, looking over the others. “You, cripple!” he said, pointing to Bronski. “You will take personal charge of getting the whores!”
“I am afraid I cannot serve under these conditions,” Paul Bronski said.
Franz Koenig sensed that Schreiker had gone too far, too fast. He stepped in quickly. “We shall discuss this in due time,” he said. “Now get out, all of you.”
Schreiker wanted to beat them all up, but he knew Koenig’s move was to save him from bumbling. He must not bumble. After they left he paced the room, livid with rage, and cursed every oath he knew, then slumped behind his desk, swearing he would show who was the authority. When he calmed down, Koenig spoke softly and calmly. “Herr Schreiker,” he said, “we have touched upon a very sensitive point.”
“But they defied me!”
“Herr Kommissar, never mind. Let us not give them issues to unify them. After all now, we have selected them to do a job for us—right?”
“They are privileged!”
“Yes, yes, exactly,” Koenig said. “In order for them to carry on for us, they must have a certain amount of authority and weight among the Jews. If we destroy their authority by forcing them to do something to make them lose face with the people—then they can’t do the job for us.”
Schreiker thought about that. Yes, he had done a stupid thing. He was going to create a power, then destroy it in the same blow. Koenig was shrewd. Intellectuals could always see those things. He would keep Koenig close at hand so he would not make mistakes.
“There are other ways to supply women for brothels,” Koenig said. “I suggest we drop the matter so far as the Civil Authority is concerned. That will make them think they have some importance.”
“Yes, of course,” Schreiker said. “I was only testing them to see if they had enough personal courage to carry out our directives—just testing them.”
Journal Entry
Well, we certainly did not have to wait long to find out what is in store for us and what kind of a man Rudolph Schreiker is.
The seat of the government for the General Government Area has been set up in Krakow, which is a surprise. We were certain it would be in Warsaw. A chap named Hans Frank is running the show down there. Each day he publishes a four-page paper called the General Government Gazette. Pages one, two, and three cover an assortment of things. Page four is dedicated to the “Jewish Problem.” We certainly are making news these days.
ALEXANDER BRANDEL
DIRECTIVE
ALL JEWS MUST REGISTER IMMEDIATELY AT THE JEWISH CIVIL AUTHORITY AT GRZYBOWSKA 28 FOR ISSUANCE OF KENNKARTEN AND RATION BOOKS. FAILURE TO DO SO IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH.
DIRECTIVE
THE ZOLIBORZ SUBURB IS OUT OF BOUNDS FOR FUTURE JEWISH RESIDENCE. THOSE JEWS LIVING RN ZOLIBORZ MUST FIND OTHER QUARTERS WITHIN ONE WEEK.
DIRECTIVE
FOR CLARIFICATION. ALL FUTURE DIRECTIVES PERTAINING TO JEWS ALSO PERTAIN TO THOSE WITH ONE JEWISH PARENT OR GRANDPARENT. JEWS WHO HAVE CONVERTED TO OTHER RELIGIONS ARE CONSIDERED JEWS.
DIRECTIVE
JEWS ARE FORBIDDEN IN PUBLIC PARKS AND MUSEUMS. JEWS ARE FORBIDDEN IN PUBLIC RESTAURANTS IN NON-JEWISH DISTRICTS.
JEWS ARE FORBIDDEN TO RIDE ON PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.
JEWISH CHILDREN ARE TO BE WITHDRAWN FROM PUBLIC SCHOOLS IMMEDIATELY.
DIRECTIVE
THE PRACTICE OF THE JEWISH RELIGION IS FORBIDDEN. ALL SYNAGOGUES ARE OUT OF BOUNDS. JEWISH RELIGIOUS SCHOOLING IS FORBIDDEN.
DIRECTIVE
THE FOLLOWING TRADES AND PROFESSIONS MAY BE PRACTICED BY JEWS ONLY AMONG THE JEWISH POPULATION: MEDICINE, LAW, JOURNALISM, MUSIC, ALL GOVERNMENTAL POSITIONS, ALL MUNICIPALLY OPERATED INDUSTRIES.