The Poles exchanged a nervous glance at the change in orders.
“Jawohl, Mein Herr!” said the older man, understanding that strange or not, it was best to just agree with the Nazis. He snapped to attention, and executed smart about face, followed by his companion, happy to have an excuse to be done with it and be on his way. The two Poles walked off quickly without looking back, hoping that they would not be shot in the back by the odd Germans.
As soon as the Poles were out of earshot Shapira turned to Feldhandler and growled in Hebrew “Why did you tell them to report us? Are you insane?”
“I’ll explain later” said Feldhandler.
Hidden in the brush, Yatom and Mofaz watched the Poles turn and go. “Shall I?” whispered Mofaz, a laser dot playing on the back of the younger Polish policeman as they hustled off in the dust.
“Let them go” said Yatom.
Furious that Feldhandler had revealed the sayerets movement to the Poles, Shapira shoved Mueller back towards the woods. He was anxious to talk with Yatom. Shapira noted that the German appeared disappointed that his assistance didn’t even merit a pat on the back. Shapira didn’t care. Feldhandler followed a bit diffidently, but clearly pleased with himself.
“Did you hear what this idiot said!” barked Shapira, as he reached the wood near Yatom, shoving Mueller again, just because he could, and snarling at Feldhandler. “We need to shoot those Poles now!” said Shapira emphatically, turning and raising his Tavor. The Poles were a little over 100 meters away, an easy shot.
“Hold!” said Yatom stepping from the woods. Shapira glared at his commander. Mueller looked on interestedly, not understanding a word, but pleased that Shapira was getting some kind of comeuppance from his boss. Probably for treating me so shabbily the German thought.
“I heard him” said Yatom softly. “Feldhandler wants the Germans to follow us up north—and that’s good. It will keep them away from the escapees—and the capsule.” Yatom clapped Shapira on the shoulder in a friendly way, while Feldhandler looked on contentedly.
Mueller, seeing that the enemy soldiers had reached some kind of accord, and that Shapira was not in trouble after all, kicked the dirt and brooded. Whatever the hell was going on with this strange group of soldiers, he aimed to throw a wrench in it.
The midday sun was high, and the Polish wood was now uncomfortably warm. Yatom called over his team leaders. Shapira put Mueller under the guard of Sandler’s men, each of whom looked as if he wanted to skin the unhappy German alive.
Yatom and Mofaz removed their helmets revealing sweat sodden scalps. Mofaz straightened his kippa while Shapira and Feldhandler gratefully stripped off the heavy German uniforms, and put on their stained but comfortable fatigues.
Under a gnarled oak, Yatom told Mofaz and Perchansky about Feldhandler’s hint to the Poles. Both blanched, and Mofaz shot Feldhandler threatening look. “You agree with this commander?” asked Mofaz.
“It will make our mission a more difficult, but it is important to draw the Germans away both from the refugees and the capsule.”
“Then we need to be going—now” said Mofaz.
“Agreed” said Yatom. “Mount everybody up. We’ll take our chances driving in daylight. Navigation will be easier anyway.”
“The lead vehicles ought to wear German jackets and headgear” said Shapira, a bit chagrined but ready to move on. “It might give us a few extra seconds if we run into any roadblocks.”
“Beseder” moaned Yatom realizing that as the column leader he’d have to roast in a heavy woolen blouse for the rest of the ride to Treblinka. But Shapira’s logic was sound. Ten minutes later the sayeret was underway on the dusty roads of eastern Poland wending its way towards Treblinka.
Chapter 18
On the evening of May 25, not long after Sobibor fell to the sayeret, a German ammunition train on its way to the Russian front almost derailed on the track damaged by Feldhandler’s bombs, At the scene the train crew discovered the remains of the Polizei train guards, along with the bodies of several dozen mostly elderly Jews and much mixed baggage. The crew had no ability to immediately report the incident. As there were no sidings or switches in the immediate area, the train was forced to laboriously back up to the previous station.
The ammunition transport was an army train, and so afier reaching the station the crew reported the incident through the army chain of command, not the SS. It was well into the morning of May 26 before SS Special Trains Unit learned of the blocked track. It didn’t take long for the Unit to deduce that this incident was connected to a missing Sobibor transport. The SS transport office promptly reported the probable disaster to the headquarters of Projekt Reinhard, the ad hoc SS organization responsible for running new death camps at Treblinka, Sobibor and Belzac.
Projekt Reinhardt was named for Reinhard Heydrich, a handsome and dashing young SS officer who, as head of the Reichsicherheitamt (Reich Main Security Office) or RSHA as it was more commonly known, was second only to Heinrich Himmler in the SS hierarchy. Many believed, that the “Aryan” and aggressive Heydrich must inevitably eclipse the wan bookish-looking Himmler the eyes of the Fuehrer. Heydrich had established the eastern Polish death camps under his personal moniker in the wake of the Wahnsee conference earlier that year, wherein the “Endloesung” or final solution to the Jewish problem had been formally detailed.
Heydrich had too many tasks and titles to attend to the day-to-day operations of the death camps, though they were dear to his heart. Even before the construction and initial operations in the newly constructed camps, Heydrich had seen to the murder by shooting or starvation of well over” a million Polish and Russian Jews via SS Einheitsgruppen, police execution details, and disease—ridden and overcrowded Polish ghettos. In recognition of this accomplishment, the Fuehrer had awarded Heydrich the title of Deputy Reich Protector of Bohemia and Moravia (both formerly parts of Czechoslovakia). Heydrich attended to his numerous responsibilities frorn a luxurious Prague office or his fine country house just outside that baroque city, both of which were far from the wastes of eastern Poland.
With so much to do, Heydrich entrusted the vast murder operation bearing his name to an Austrian policeman named Otto Globocnik, nicknamed “Globo” by his pal Himmler. Globocnik held the rank of Lieutenant General in the SS and the Police, and controlled SS operations in the Lubin district of occupied Poland, which encompassed the death camps. Projekt Reinhard was officially run out of Globocnik’s headquarters in Lubin. It was Globo’s office that got the report about the missing Sobibor transport on the morning of May 26, not too long after Yatom and his men departed Sobibor.
Initially, Globo had a hard time crediting the the report. Who would attack a death transport? Most Poles, including partisans, were anti-Semites. They were more likely to cheer a death train than to attack it. The possibility that Jewish partisans had struck the train was laughable. There were a few groups of Jews hiding in the woods here and there, but they had problems enough just surviving, and had few arms or explosives. Nonetheless, the report demanded an immediate and energetic response. Heydrich would demand no less.
An equal mystery was why Commandant Stangl hadn’t reported the missing transport? Stangl was a competent officer, unlike that clown Dr. Irmfried Eberl at Treblinka, and not one to hold his tongue. Communication problems with the isolated death camps were not uncommon, but the situation was certainly worrisome. Globo directed his aide, Untersturmfizehrer Christian Wirth, to contact Commandant Stangl at Sobibor.