Too Many Men (51 page)

“Are you nervous about the fact that I am going to Auschwitz?” Ruth said to Höss.

“No, not at all,” he said. “You are, after all, going there voluntarily.”

The question must have unnerved Höss, because he started coughing. He coughed and coughed. Ruth felt sure that her question had induced his coughing fit. “I am not nervous at all,” Höss spluttered.

Ruth waited for Höss’s coughing to subside. He was probably right, she thought. He was probably not nervous. What was there for him to be nervous about? “Why should I be nervous?” Höss said when he stopped coughing.

“I couldn’t even begin the answer to that question,” Ruth said. “It would take too long.” Höss ignored her.

“It was my deputy Fritzsch, who first tried gas as a method of accomplishing the killings,” Höss said. “Fritzsch used a preparation of prussic acid called Zyklon B. We used this preparation in the camp as an insecti-cide. Fritzsch reported the success of the gas to me.”

“Why are you talking about the gassings?” Ruth said to Höss.

“You are the one who repeatedly brought up the subject of Auschwitz,”

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Höss said. “I myself was present at the next gassing in which Zyklon B was used. Of course, I wore a mask to protect myself.”

“Of course,” Ruth said.

“The gassing took place in the detention cells of Block 2,” Höss said.

“The cells were very crowded. When the Zyklon B was thrown in, death was instantaneous. There were a series of quick, muffled, muted, almost sti-fled cries, and then the whole thing was over. There was not one more sound from these former occupants of Block 2.”

Ruth thought that she must remember not to run early in the morning.

Höss seemed to have particularly good access to her at that time.

“I can get to you at any time of the day,” Höss said. “Or at any time of the night, for that matter.”

“I can, it seems, get rid of you, whenever I please,” Ruth said, and dug her heel into the unpaved track of the Planty. Höss yelled. A gurgling noise came out of him while he was yelling. As though he might throw up at any moment. “Don’t vomit near me,” Ruth said. Höss appeared not to hear.

She could hear him still gurgling. He was also whimpering.

Why was she worried about Höss vomiting? she thought. He had already brought up more bile in her presence than any amount of vomit could contain. “I hope you feel sick,” she said to Höss. She felt ill.

“I do not feel sick,” Höss said.

“Liar,” Ruth said.

“The experience of attending this gassing put my mind at ease,” Höss said. “The mass extermination of the Jews was about to start very soon and, to tell you the truth, neither Eichmann nor I were, until this moment, con-fident of precisely how the killings were to be carried out. We both knew that the method to be used would be gas, but as to which gas and exactly how to administer it, and how effective it would be, we were in the dark. To my great relief, I could now report that we had not only the gas but we had established the procedure to be used.”

Ruth vomited. She moved her feet as far away from her head as she could. She didn’t want to throw up on her running shoes. She couldn’t believe the fury of her vomit. It was propelling itself out of her in almost ferocious blasts. She felt quite frightened by this internal upheaval. What was happening to her? She vomited and vomited until all she was bringing up was water. Even then she kept retching.

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She felt exhausted. She couldn’t believe that she was vomiting in public.

Several people looked at her. No one stopped.

“Your digestive system is not in order,” Höss said.

“There is much more not in order than my digestive system,” she said weakly. Her mouth tasted foul. She sat up. At least she could breathe more easily now. She shook her head. She was shocked at what had just happened. It was as though her lungs and her stomach had refused to smother their reaction to what they were hearing. She wiped her face with her hands.

Höss sighed. “I do feel very much better since I have established this discourse with you,” he said. Ruth pushed her hair away from her face. She hoped there wasn’t any vomit in her hair. “In Zweites Himmel’s Lager,”

Höss said, “I am still not popular. Why cannot people see that whatever I did, I was not alone in my actions or thoughts? No Nazi was alone. We were supported by the German people. I think it is most unjust and unsatisfactory to lay the blame on the Nazis.” His voice had developed a whine.

“It is an injustice,” Höss said.

“It’s too hard to go around railing at Germans in general,” Ruth said.

“It’s too abstract.”

“But there is so much specific incriminating evidence,” Höss said.

“There’s too much,” said Ruth. “Too much for people to take in. No one wants to acknowledge that their auntie or uncle or grandfather or grandmother could be a killer. No one wants to think of their mothers or fathers profiting from the murder of others. People can’t bear to think of people they know in that light.” She paused to catch her breath. “No one wants to think that anyone was capable of all of that,” she said. “All of that murder. All of that hate.”

“But they were,” said Höss.

“I know that,” Ruth said. She felt flushed. She had been walking around and around the perimeter of the Planty. The sun had come out. It was the pale sun of winter. Not a bold yellow sun. Ruth felt happy to see the sun. Life was strange, she thought. Here she was, in Poland, in Kraków, in agreement, in accord with Rudolf Höss. This was an astonishing occurrence, Ruth thought.

An unbelievable occurrence. Who on earth would believe this? Ruth laughed at the expression she had just used. She amended the sentence. Who on earth or anywhere else, if there was an anywhere else, would believe this?

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Was there such a place as Zweites Himmel’s Lager? Ruth thought. Was Zweites Himmel’s Lager hell? Hell was supposed to be the dwelling place of Satan. Was Höss Satan? Or was he one of many Satans? Devils and wicked souls were supposed to dwell in hell. Condemned, Ruth thought, to eternal punishment. It was supposed to be a place of pain and torment. But there was redemption in Zweites Himmel’s Lager. You could work your way out. The accumulation of wisdom and understanding, it seemed, could graduate inhabitants right out of Zweites Himmel’s Lager. And into Himmel. Heaven. The dwelling place of God, the angels, and the souls of those who have gained salvation. Heaven, a place of peace and beauty. If there was a heaven, she didn’t feel that Höss belonged there.

She felt tired. She had been in Poland for one week. It felt more like one year. One lifetime.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of our first meeting,” Höss said.

“What?” she said.

“We met a week ago, tomorrow,” Höss said.

“It doesn’t feel like a week,” Ruth said.

“Maybe it is not,” Höss said. “Maybe we have known each other longer than that.”

“What do you mean?” Ruth said.

“I do not have to explain everything that I say,” Höss said.

“Well, don’t link the two of us with anniversaries and shared interests,”

Ruth said. “I’m not linked to you by anything.”

“Do not be so sure of this,” Höss said. Ruth lifted her foot to hurt him.

“I am not as hard-hearted as you would imagine,” Höss said.

“It would be hard to imagine the degree of hard-heartedness that you possess,” Ruth said.

“That is not true,” Höss said. “Frequently when I was home with my family, my thoughts would, without any warning, turn to different incidents that had accrued during the day.”

“You mean when you were relaxing, at night, in Villa Höss?” Ruth said.

“When you were reclining in your leather armchair surrounded by the other custom-made leather goods you ordered. And the myriad number of stolen items. Briefcases, handbags, suitcases, shoes, toys for the children.

Were you sitting in the large armchair that sat right underneath the chan-

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delier, when your thoughts would sometimes stray to what you had done during the day?”

Höss didn’t answer.

“Were you comfortable on that plush carpeting?” Ruth said. Höss pretended not to hear.

“My thoughts would roam,” he said. “Sometimes when I thought of particular incidents that had occurred during an extermination, I had to leave the house and go outside. To stay there, inside, in the loving circle of my family while thoughts of my day’s work were present, would become intolerable.”

“You didn’t want your wife or your children to be contaminated by those thoughts?” Ruth said. “Terrible thoughts of Jews bleeding from the eyes, nose, and mouth. Jews with their skulls crushed. No father would want his children exposed to that. What father wouldn’t want to protect his children from gassed and burnt Jews?”

“I did my best to protect my wife and children,” Höss said.

“But you couldn’t,” Ruth said. “Your wife and children, all five of those beautiful children, the two boys and the three girls, were breathing in the fumes from the dead every day. The air coming out of those chimneys went straight into the lungs of your wife and children. Particles and filaments and pinpoints of Jews wedged themselves inside your wife and children.

They took root. Nothing could shake them out.”

“How can you say that?” said Höss. “Our house was surrounded by trees. Planted with flowers. Well away from the chimneys.”

“You couldn’t get far away enough from those chimneys to avoid the pollution. They spread smoke and soot for miles. Jewish soot.”

“Sometimes the happiness of my wife, especially when she had our youngest in her arms, was too much for me,” Höss said. He sounded melancholy. Almost sad. “I would look at her, and think of the things I had seen during the day,” he said. “I would look at her and wonder exactly how long could all of this happiness that we have last.”

Ruth was speechless. She had thought that Höss was about to pretend some sympathy for the victims. Some sensitivity at the thought of juxtapos-ing their position with his. Why had she expected that? Why had she expected that level of humanity?

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“My wife failed to understand these gloomy moods that overtook me,”

Höss said. “She always put it down to some irritation to do with my work.”

“She didn’t understand that you were terrified that the cozy life you had created would all come to an end one day,” Ruth said.

“No, she did not,” Höss said.

“You loved your wife, didn’t you?” Ruth said.

“Yes, I did,” Höss said. “My wife was a very good wife.”

“I’m sure Hedwig—I love that name—was a great wife,” Ruth said.

“I would prefer it if you did not call my wife by her name,” Höss said.

“But it’s a wonderful name,” Ruth said. “Hedwig Höss. I like the alliteration, too. Do you know what alliteration is?”

“Yes, of course,” Höss said.

“My, your English is really improving,” Ruth said.

“Thank you,” said Höss.

“Family and fidelity were very important to you, weren’t they?” Ruth said.

“Yes, very much so,” Höss said. He had cheered up again.

“I know you believed in fidelity,” Ruth said. “I know you severely denounced any sexual relationships between the SS men and women prisoners.”

“Without question,” Höss said. “SS officers and their subordinates were forbidden to associate with any female prisoners.”

“You didn’t want the men contaminated, did you?” Ruth said.

“Of course not,” said Höss.

“They weren’t allowed to touch the Jewish women or any other prisoners, were they?” Ruth said.

“No,” said Höss.

“You never know what could happen if you touch Jewish skin,” Ruth said.

“That is true,” said Höss. “We are in agreement about this.” Ruth laughed. “What is it that you find amusing?” Höss said.

“Our agreement,” said Ruth.

“I ordered my men to stay as far away as possible from all female prisoners,” Höss said. “The jobs that required proximity to the prisoners were carried out by Jewish policemen and policewomen.”

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“Kapos,” Ruth said.

“That is correct,” said Höss.

“It was smart of you to set Jews up to police other Jews,” Ruth said.

“Especially under such inhuman conditions.

“You were furious with one of your female supervisors who had sexual relations with a prisoner, weren’t you?” Ruth said.

“You have read about this?” Höss said. “I was very angry. How could a person sink so low?”

“And what about Rapportführer Palitzsch?” Ruth said. “He was reputed to be one of the cruelest of your men.”

“I accused Rapportführer Palitzsch myself,” Höss said. “He was rumored to be having sexual relations with women prisoners at Birkenau. I made it very clear I would not tolerate such behavior.”

“Some of these men were married, weren’t they?” Ruth said. “The sex they were having with prisoners was not quite as quiet as what they were doing with their wives. There was quite a bit of brutality involved, wasn’t there?”

“I cannot be responsible for what some of my men did to some of the prisoners,” Höss said. “I tried my best, but not all of my men were of a very good caliber. I had many lowly types, asocial sorts.”

“But you always set a good example yourself,” Ruth said.

“Without question,” said Höss.

“You and Hedwig and the five blond-haired children.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Höss.

“You’re sure about this?” Ruth said.

“Of course I am sure,” Höss said. “Why are we discussing this?”

“Did Hedwig know about Eleonore Hodys?” Ruth said. A series of noises Ruth could not quite identify came from Höss. They sounded like disfigured gulps, twisted exhalations, and sputters. “What did Hedwig have to say about Eleonore Hodys?” Ruth said. “Or did Hedwig never know?”

A few strangulated vowels and consonants tried to come out of Höss. They were bits and pieces of words. Höss sounded as though he was choking.