Wirth had likewise stitched a tale of success from the disaster that befell him at Belzec. But Wirth’s redemptive prize was the commando officer, who evidently was the redoubtable unit’s leader. And Shapira was a real Jew to boot, based on his own admissions, and confirmed by an examination of his penis.
Genuinely happy to touch down alive, Globocnik was further encouraged to be met at the airport by a driver and a general’s staff car. A truck and a squad of SS guards awaited the prisoner, who was roughly tossed in the back after the obligatory exchange of paperwork.
The little convoy set off for Heydrich’s headquarters in Prague’s city center. Heydrich’s offices were in a striking baroque building near the famous castle. An immaculately uniformed guard led Globocnik and Wirth though the glass entry door and up a flight of marble stairs. Atop the stairs the guard directed them into an ornately furnished anteroom were where they waited hungrily through the lunch hour. Neither man was offered anything to eat by Heydrich’s aides though their stomachs rumbled noticeably. Perhaps a good sign reasoned Globo hopefully—Heydrich wouldn’t shoot an SS General without offering a final meal would he? Globo discarded the thought—of course he would. Finally, an SS Captain led them down the short hallway into Heydrich’s office, which offered a spectacular view of the castle.
Heydrich sat behind his empty polished desk, dressed impeccably as usual, his blouse full of decorations. The bland and taciturn Colonel Eichman stood nearby. Globe and Wirth clicked their heels and offered stiff Nazi salutes. Heydrich returned the salute and offered Globocnik the single chair in front of the desk. Wirth remained nervously at parade rest.
“Well gentlemen” said Heydrich swarmily “when last we met Sturmbannfuhrer Wirth was put in charge of Belzec camp and you, Obergruppenfuhrer were given a security division and a Waffen SS Regiment to hunt down a British commando detachment and their partisan gangs.” Heydrich smiled thinly. “How did we do?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
Globocnik summoned his full authority—he was an SS General after all and spoke commandingly. “The enemy commando force was destroyed. Its leader captured and in your hands. Regiment Der Fuehrer killed or wounded hundreds of enemy bandits and ran the rest off. Major Wirth successfully defended Belzec camp, killing at least two dozen more enemy commandos and partisans. We’ve captured two new British weapons of great value, the Oozi submachinegun, and a remarkable automatic don’t know what it’s called but.”
“According to the Hebrew lettering, it’s called the Galil” said Eichmann from his perch.
“Unfortunately” continued Globocnik, uninterested in Eichmann’s minutiae, “the gassing complex at Belzec was damaged in the battle.”
“Colonel Eichman tells me that seven of ten gas chambers and all the gassing engines were destroyed—is that correct, Major Wirth?”
“Ja, Mein Herr” answered Wirth. “But otherwise the camp is intact.”
“The whole point of the camp was the gassing complex” interrupted Heydrich. “It was rebuilt and expanded at great effort and expense, and now it is effectively destroyed, yes?”
“Ja, Mein Herr”
“Like Sobibor and Treblinka” sniffed Heydrich. “Of the three camps created to implement the final solution ordered by the Fuehrer, none are operational. And I have in my charge a two million Jews overflowing their rancid ghettos throughout the eastern Reich.” Heydrich said all this evenly, without raising his voice an octave, which made it all the more menacing. Globocnik and Wirth stayed silent, terrified by Heydrich’s repressed rage. Globo felt certain that a firing squad awaited them in the courtyard.
“The final solution of the Jewish question is temporarily suspended in Europe, though Einsatzgruppen will continue to operate in Russia” said Eichman sedately, as if they were discussing sales proposals at a board meeting “None of the three destroyed extermination camps will be rebuilt. Instead the facility at Auschwitz will be modernized and expanded, and the operation centralized. It will actually ease some of the rail transport issues.”
Globocnik and Wirth stole a glance at each other. Heydrich and Eichmann would not be bothering with this now if a firing squad was waiting.
“So you see gentlemen” said Heydrich “your incompetence may yet lead us to new efficiencies. Wirth, you are useless as a commander, but Eichmann assures me you are one of our best gas-men, and the complex a Belzec was a marvel before its untimely end.”
“Thank you sir” mumbled Wirth.
“Wirth” said Eichman “you are familiar with the Zyklon B experiments?”
“Yes sir!” said Wirth enthusiastically.
“You will go to Auschwitz where your technical expertise will be put to use” said Eichmann. “Come with me.”
Wirth felt like singing. Auschwitz—it was his reprieve. He snapped his heels again, saluted, suppressed a smile and followed Eichmann from the room. Globocnik remained seated in front of Heydrich, awaiting his own fate. He doubted it would be anything as good as being sent to Auschwitz.
“General” said Heydrich “you are a loyal Nazi with a distinguished police career, and long time party member. You faced difficulties in Lubin, and did not handle them with aplomb, but in your defense, they were unusual.”
Globo nodded.
“You know Lubin” Heydrich continued “and it seems the problem of the foreign infiltrators is resolved. I certainly will extract from the prisoner whatever useful information remains.” Globocnik looked at Heydrich. He could hardly believe his ears—he was going to keep Lubin! “You will remain in Lubin, which henceforth will house a Jewish ghetto. You will take into Lubin, and house, all the Jews that should have been eliminated at my camps over the last six weeks—do you understand.”
“Ja, Main Herr.”
“I will take several months, at least, and you will have many difficulties, but you will have to handle them” Heydrich said dispassionately, eager now to be rid of Globocnik and begin interrogating the captive enemy commander. “Then when the time comes you will ship the ghetto to Auschwitz.”
“Jawohl, Mein Herr,” shouted Globocnik, relieved and already thinking about replacing his missed lunch.
Chapter 45
Shortly after midnight on June 30, thirty-five days after they landed, Feldhandler radioed Yatom that he had received a confirmatory signal from Dimona. Ido and three other men carefully loaded Rafi onto a truck, as one of his local doctors looked on nervously. The doctor, an Austrian called Neustadt, grabbed Ido’s sleeve. “Where are you taking him?” asked Neustadt in halting English.
“We are evacuating him,” answered Ido, offering nothing else.
“He is my case,” insisted Neustadt.
“No doctor, he is mine. But thank you.” Ido gently pushed Neustadt away and climbed onto the truck with the other commandos. All the Israelis were riding out to the capsule, even the three men who were not going home. Mofaz drove—Yatom next to him. As Mofaz pulled the truck out, De Jong suddenly ran into the street, also begging to know what was happening. Yatom motioned the Dutchman to the passenger window. “We’ll be back” said Yatom. “I promise.”