My Gestapo Man

At night we took turns standing guard in the camp. We had no weapons, but most of the buses carried a Gestapo man. These men were in civilian clothes, wearing suits that were not uniform; the only common feature in their attire was the wide-brimmed black hat. They carried a pistol under the left arm in a shoulder holster beneath the jacket. My Gestapo man was named Gideon Walter, about 40 years old, stocky and short, with a coarse, heavily scarred face, probably from adolescent acne. He was serious, fairly friendly, and very proper. I stood guard with him for the first time in Friedrichsruh.

My “weapon” was a so-called signal paddle, used during convoy driving and similar to the paddle police stick out through the side window. In addition, I had a flashlight. We walked around there in the darkness of the night, silent. We did not understand each other’s language. Suddenly, we heard rustling and suspicious sounds. We crept closer. Gideon slipped his hand under his jacket, and I gripped my weapon more tightly. When we were close enough, I switched on the flashlight and we saw several red eyes glowing at us in the dark. It was a herd of wild boars, apparently curious to find out who had occupied their domain.