The block leaders who hastened to these whippings, and whose taste for these spectacles I learned to know, were almost without exception sly, rough, violent, and often common creatures, whose behavior toward their comrades and their families was in character with their natures.
They did not regard prisoners as human beings at all.
Three of them later hanged themselves while under arrest, after they had been held responsible for brutally mistreating prisoners in other camps.
There were also plenty of SS men among the troops who regarded the sight of corporal punishment being inflicted as an excellent spectacle, a kind of peasant merrymaking.
I was certainly not one of these.
The following incident occurred while I was still a recruit at Dachau. It was discovered that an immense racket had been organized in the butcher’s shop by the prisoners and by noncommissioned officers of the SS. Four members of the SS were sentenced by a Munich court—SS courts were not then in existence—to long terms of imprisonment.
These four men were then paraded in front of the entire guard unit, personally degraded by Eicke, and discharged with ignominy from the ranks of the SS. Eicke himself tore off their national emblems, their badges of rank and SS insignia, had them marched past each company in turn, and then handed them over to the prison authorities to serve their sentences. Afterward he took this opportunity to deliver a long, admonitory speech. He said that he would have dearly liked to have seen these four men dressed in concentration camp clothes, flogged, and put behind the wire with their associates. The Reichsführer of the SS, however, had not allowed him to do this.
A similar fate would overtake anyone who was caught having dealings with the prisoners, whether with criminal intent or from pity. Both motives were equally reprehensible. Any show of sympathy would be regarded by the “enemies of the state” as weakness, which they would immediately exploit. Furthermore, it was unworthy of an SS man to feel pity for “enemies of the state.” He had no room for weaklings in his ranks, and if any man felt that way he should withdraw to a monastery as quickly as possible. Only tough and determined men were of any use to him. It was not for nothing that they wore the death’s head badge and always kept their weapons loaded!
They were the only soldiers who, even in peacetime, faced the enemy every hour of the day and night—the enemy behind the wire.
The degradation and dismissal of these men were painful events that affected every soldier and especially myself, for I was witnessing such a scene for the first time. But Eicke’s address gave me even more to think about. I was still, however, not able to understand clearly what he meant by “enemies of the state” and the “enemy behind the wire.” I did not know enough about them, although I was not to be left in ignorance for long!
After I had served six months with my unit, Eicke suddenly gave orders that all the older officers and noncommissioned officers were to leave their units and be given official positions in the camp. I was one of these.
I was made block leader in the protective custody camp. That was a position that I had no desire whatever to hold. Shortly afterward, Eicke visited the camp and I submitted a formal request for an interview. I asked him if he would make an exception in my case, and let me rejoin my unit. I explained that soldiering was in my blood, and that it was entirely because of my longing to be a soldier once more that I had applied for active service with the SS.
He was well aware of my past history and considered that my personal experiences of prison life made me eminently suitable for taking charge of prisoners myself. In fact there was no one better qualified than I for duty in the protective custody camp.
In any case he was not prepared to make any exceptions. His order had been drafted on basic principles and would not be altered in any way. I must obey, since I was a soldier.
Yes, I had wanted to be a soldier. Yet at that moment I yearned for the rich soil, and longed to return to the hard but free life I had left behind.
But there was no returning now!
With strange feelings I entered upon my new round of duties. It was an unknown world, and one to which I was to remain bound and fettered for the next ten years.
It is true that I had myself been a prisoner for six long years and therefore knew by heart the prisoner’s life and habits, his lighter and even more his darker moments, all his emotions and all his needs.
But the concentration camp was something new. I had first to learn the enormous difference between life in one of these and life in a prison or penitentiary. And I was to learn it, in every detail and often in more detail than I cared for.
With two other newcomers, Schwarzhuber and Remmele, later Commandant of Eintrachthütte, I was let loose among the prisoners, without very much instruction from the commander of the protective custody camp or the Rapportführer.
I felt quite embarrassed as I stood in front of the prisoners committed to forced labor who had been entrusted to my care, and noticed the curiosity with which they eyed their new company leader, as block leaders were then called. Only later was I to understand the searching expression on their faces.
My sergeant major, as the block senior was then called, had got the company, later called block, into good shape.
He and his five corporals, the room seniors, were political prisoners, dyed-in-the-wool Communists, but they had also been soldiers and loved retelling tales of their experiences in the army. Without a word from me, they imposed order and cleanliness upon the forced labor prisoners, most of whom had arrived in the camp in a thoroughly disreputable and slovenly condition. The prisoners themselves endeavored not to fall short of the standards set, since it depended on their conduct and industry whether they were released after six months or whether they were then required to do a further three or six months’ corrective training.
I soon got to know each of the two hundred and seventy men in my company well, and I could judge their fitness for release. There were only a very few, during the time I was block leader, whom I had to have transferred to prison on account of their incorrigibly asocial character. These men stole like magpies, shirked any kind of work, and were in every respect thorough slackers. Most of the men showed improvement by the end of their stipulated term of training. There were hardly any who later relapsed.
Provided they had not served numerous previous sentences or in some other way acquired asocial tendencies, imprisonment weighed heavily on these people. They were ashamed of being where they were, particularly the older men who had not previously come into conflict with the law. Now all of a sudden they found themselves punished because, out of pigheadedness or Bavarian stubbornness, they had consistently shirked their work or had shown an exaggerated fondness for beer. Or perhaps they had become idle for some other reason, and the Labor Office had sent them to the camp for training.
But all of them managed to remain more or less unaffected by the worse aspects of camp life, for they knew with reasonable certainty that after completing their sentence they would be set free.
It was quite another story, however, with the remaining nine-tenths of the camp. This consisted of one company containing Jews, emigrants, homosexuals, and Jehovah’s Witnesses, one company of asocials, and seven companies of political prisoners, mostly Communists.
The political prisoners had no idea how long their detention would last. This depended on factors that were incalculable. They knew this and the uncertainty made their captivity very hard to bear. On this account alone their life in camp was a torment. I have discussed this with many sensible and discerning political prisoners. All were unanimous that they could put up with all the inconveniences of camp life, such as the arbitrary powers of the SS men or of the prisoners’ leaders, the harsh camp discipline, the years of living as a member of a crowd, and the monotony of the daily routine; but the uncertainty of the duration of their confinement was something with which they could never come to terms.