I was going out again to see if there wasn’t some other way into the house.
But Hauer took my sleeve. “That door’s so flimsy we can just push it in,” he says.
Alois agreed with him, so the three of us braced ourselves against that little door.
After a while, yes, it did give way, and there we were in the barn.
It was very dark inside. The only daylight came in through an open door on the left-hand side of the barn. On the right-hand side hay was stacked up, and the other stocks of feed, and there were piles of straw everywhere against the back wall and the left-hand side. But we couldn’t really see much in that dark barn. It was more like guesswork.
The bellowing of the animals in the cowshed was getting louder and louder.
“There’s a cow there!” Hauer saw her first. The cow was standing right in the doorway.
“Come on, come on, she must have torn herself free.”
Hauer went over to the cow in the doorway. My eyes weren’t really used to the darkness in that barn yet. I didn’t like it at all, but I didn’t like being left behind on my own either. So I followed Hauer. Looked like Alois felt the same. But as he started off after Hauer he stumbled. Managed to catch himself up in time, though.
I’m about to tell Alois he’d better watch where he was going, and then I see this foot in the straw.
Alois grabbed my arm. Grabbed it tight.
We both stood there just staring at the heap of straw. We didn’t neither of us move, not Alois and not me. We simply stood there.
My heart was beating like it was fit to jump right out of my chest. The ground under my feet wouldn’t hold me up anymore, I was so weak at the knees. I clung onto Alois with all my might, and he clung onto me.
It was all so hard to grasp, it was unspeakable.
Then Hauer pushed the straw aside. Freed them of the straw, one by one. Danner. Little Marianne, her grandma, and last of all Barbara, too. They were all covered with blood. I felt such dread, I couldn’t really look at them.
Everything around me was ghastly. Like in a nightmare. Like the Trud was sitting on you squeezing the air out of you. I wanted to get out of there, away from that place.
When I turned to go out, Hauer barred my way.
“We have to look for Josef,” he shouted at me. But I pushed him away. Hauer tried to keep on holding me. “We have to look for the little boy. Where’s the boy? Where’s Josef?”
But I just left him standing there. I went out into the open air, so I could breathe.
Out there I found Alois outside the machinery shed. He was pale as a ghost. Couldn’t even stay on his legs anymore. He’d slid down to the ground outside the shed with his back to the wall. I sat down beside him.
But Hauer—he’d followed me out of the barn—he kept at us. We must try to get into the house from the barn, he said.
I couldn’t do any more, I was exhausted and trembling all over. I felt unspeakably awful.
Hauer still wouldn’t let it go. He kept at us, badgering us the whole time.
“We have to get inside the house. We have to find out what happened.” He kept repeating it. Alois and me, though, we just stayed there sitting on the ground. So in the end Hauer went back into the barn alone.
From there, so he told us later, he went through the cowshed into the farmhouse.
A few minutes later we heard the door of the house being unlocked.
Meanwhile we’d pulled ourselves together enough to feel we could stand.
Hauer called to us again to go into the house with him. And now that we didn’t have to go through the barn and past all the dead family, we finally did as he wanted and went into the house with him.
There was still a glass sitting on the kitchen table. It looked like the family had only just left the room. Like one of them would come back into the kitchen any moment.
We looked around the room. The door to the little room next to it was ajar. Hauer threw the door wide. We found a woman’s dead body, it was half covered by a quilt. There was blood all over the place around her.
I didn’t know the woman, I’d never seen her before in my life.
Still Hauer kept on urging us to search the other rooms in the house.
And at last we found little Josef in his cot in the bedroom. He was dead too.
Alois Huber, age 25
Supposing I hadn’t stumbled, maybe we wouldn’t have found them so soon—who knows? There was no light to speak of in that barn. The daylight coming in through the open cowshed door wasn’t enough to make the place any brighter.
First I thought I’d fallen over a stick, a piece of wood, some largish object. It was a while before I took it in.
Me and Farmer Sterzer, we just stood there. If Hauer hadn’t been there to clear the straw away, I reckon we’d have stood there forever. I reckon we’d just have stood there unable to move.
When I saw those dead bodies I felt sick.
Not that it’s that easy to upset me. I saw more than enough in the war, believe you me. Everyone who was in the war saw enough dead bodies to last them a lifetime.
But a thing like that. All of them killed stone dead.
I mean, I’d known them all, they weren’t strangers, they were people you saw every day.
I couldn’t look at them. I was out of that barn double quick, and I threw up outside the machinery shed.
Everything else, it was like the world around me had stopped. All I still felt was that sickness. That horror. Whoever did it can’t be human. Whoever did it is a devil. Can’t be anyone from around here, we don’t have monsters like that in these parts.
If Farmer Hauer hadn’t gone on and on at us like that, I’d never have gone into the house to look for the others. Never in my life.
Farmer Hauer kept pressing us to go in, though. We followed him like lambs to the slaughter. He didn’t lose his nerve. I mean, it was almost unbelievable. He didn’t lose his head like us, like Farmer Sterzer and me. Everything he did, he was very calm and self-controlled. And he was the one who knew Danner and his family best. I mean, he was kind of almost like his son-in-law. Well, he was little Josef’s dad, right?
In his place I could never have kept such a good grip on myself. He never lost his nerve, not for a moment. I must say I admired him for that, for being so self-controlled. Almost cold-blooded, he seemed.
I’ve seen things in my time, back under Adolf they called us boys up at fifteen years old. They put us in uniform, gave us guns, and told us to go and shoot at the enemy. The enemy. What a laugh! The enemy was old men and mothers with their children, and I was supposed to shoot at them.
I was stationed in Regensberg. The Yanks had already surrounded the whole town. We were told it had to be defended to the last man. Better dead than fall into enemy hands, they said. What a load of garbage, none of that mattered now.
This group of mothers with their children and old men, they were walking through the town. They wanted the place to surrender without a fight. Only women and children and old men, they were, the other men were all at the front or taken prisoner.
The Party top brass had already headed for the hills, the filthy cowards. We even had to help them pack their cases.
They wanted to scarper for it quick, those gentlemen. They sent us kids, just kids of fifteen we were, out into the street. Told us to shoot the demonstrators. We were supposed to shoot those old men, and the mothers with their children.
So in all the confusion I scarpered too. Threw my gun away and went down to the Danube. I hid in the cellar of a burned-out house there. That evening I swam across the river under cover of darkness. I’m a good swimmer.
I was scared then. Terrified. I was scared to death.
I thought that was the worst thing I’d ever have to see in my life.