The Kindly Ones

I was still waiting for my summons from the Reichsführer when the English resumed their massive strikes on Berlin, with considerable vigor. It was August 23, a Monday, I remember, late at night: I was at home, in bed, but I probably wasn’t asleep yet, when the sirens went off. I was tempted to remain lying, but already Frau Gutknecht was banging my door. She was bellowing so loudly you could scarcely hear the sirens: “Herr Offizier! Herr Offizier!…Doktor Aue! Get up! The Luftmörder! Help!” I pulled on a pair of trousers and unlocked the door: “Well, yes, Frau Gutknecht. It’s the RAF. What do you want me to do?” Her jowls were trembling, her cheeks were pale, and she was crossing herself convulsively, muttering: “Jesus-Mary-Joseph, Jesus-Mary-Joseph, what are we going to do?”—“We are going to go down into the shelter, like everyone else.” I shut the door and got dressed, then calmly went downstairs, locking my door against looters. We could hear the flak thundering, especially to the south and near the Tiergarten. The building’s basement had been turned into an air-raid shelter: it would never have survived a direct hit, but it was better than nothing. I threaded my way through the suitcases and legs and settled into a corner, as far as possible from Frau Gutknecht, who was sharing her terrors with some neighbors. Children were crying anxiously, others were ru

I had imagined that this appointment would postpone the presentation of my report indefinitely: that showed I didn’t really know much about the Reichsführer. I was summoned to his office two days later. The night before, the English had returned, fewer than the first time, but I still didn’t get much sleep. I splashed cold water on my face before going downstairs, to try to muster some kind of human appearance. Brandt, staring at me with his owl-like look, made a few preliminary comments to me, as was his wont: “As you can imagine, the Reichsführer is extremely busy right now. Nonetheless, he was anxious to see you, since this concerns an issue he wants to make progress on. Your report was deemed excellent, a little too direct perhaps, but conclusive. The Reichsführer will certainly ask you to summarize it for him. Be concise. He doesn’t have a lot of time.” This time, the Reichsführer welcomed me with an almost friendly tone: “My dear Sturmba