The Kindly Ones

A strange guy, I thought as I was going to bed. His cynicism sometimes shocked me, even though I often found it refreshing; at the same time, I knew that I couldn’t judge his behavior by his words. I trusted him completely: at the SD, he had always loyally helped me, without my ever asking him, and even when I couldn’t be of any perceptible use to him in return. I had asked him the question openly once and he had burst out laughing: “What do you want me to tell you? That I’m keeping you in reserve for a long-term plan? I like you, that’s all.” Those words had touched me deeply, and he had hurried to add: “In any case, smart as you are, at least I’m sure that you can never threaten me. That’s already a lot.” He had played a role in my entering the SD—that’s also how I had met him; it’s true that it had happened in somewhat peculiar circumstances, but one doesn’t always have a choice. For a few years already I had been part of the SD’s network of Vertrauensmänner, informants employed in all spheres of German life: industry, agriculture, bureaucracy, university. When I arrived at Kiel, in 1934, I had limited resources, and on the advice of one of my father’s former directors, Dr. Mandelbrod, I had applied to the SS, which allowed me to avoid matriculation fees at the university; with his support, I had been quickly accepted. Two years later, I had gone to an extraordinary lecture given by Otto Ohlendorf on the deviations of National Socialism; afterward, I had been introduced to him by Dr. Jessen, my economics professor, who had also been his a few years earlier. Ohlendorf, it turned out, had already heard about me from Dr. Mandelbrod, with whom he was in contact; he rather openly extolled the Sicherheitsdienst, and recruited me on the spot as a V-Mann. The work was simple: I was to send reports, on what was being said, on rumors, jokes, the reactions of people to the advances of National Socialism. In Berlin, Ohlendorf had explained to me, the reports of the thousands of V-Männer were compiled, then the SD distributed a summary to the different branches of the Party, in order to allow them to gauge the feelings of the Volk and to formulate their policies accordingly. This replaced elections, in a way; and Ohlendorf was one of the creators of this system, of which he showed himself visibly proud. In the beginning, I found it exciting, Ohlendorf’s speech had impressed me strongly, and I was glad to be able to participate in a concrete way in building National Socialism. But in Berlin, Höhn, my professor, subtly discouraged me. In the SD, he had been a mentor for Ohlendorf and for many others; but since then he had fallen out with the Reichsführer and left the service. He quickly succeeded in convincing me that working for an intelligence or espionage service stemmed from pure romanticism, and that I had much more useful ways to serve the Volk. I stayed in contact with Ohlendorf, but he no longer talked to me much about the SD; he too, I learned later, had his difficulties with the Reichsführer. I continued paying my dues to the SS and showing up for the parades, but I no longer sent in reports, and soon I ceased to think of the matter. I was concentrating on my thesis, which was somewhat daunting; what’s more, I had developed a passion for Kant and was conscientiously boning up on Hegel and idealist philosophy; with Höhn’s encouragement, I planned on requesting a position in a government ministry. But I must say that something else too was holding me back, private motives. In my Plutarch, I had underlined these sentences on Alcibiades one night: …a man, judging by the outward appearance, would have said, “’Tis not Achilles’s son, but he himself; the very man” that Lycurgus designed to form; while his real feeling and acts would have rather provoked the exclamation, “’Tis the same woman still.” That might make you smile, or grimace in disgust; now, it’s all the same to me. In Berlin, despite the Gestapo, you could still in those days find whatever you wanted of that kind. Famous bars such as the Kleist-Kasino or the Silhouette were still open, and they weren’t often raided, they must have been paying someone. Otherwise, there were also certain places in the Tiergarten, near the Neuer See in front of the zoo, where the Schupos rarely ventured at night; behind the trees waited the Strichjungen, or young muscular workers from “Red” Wedding. At university, I had had one or two relationships, necessarily discreet ones and in any case brief; but I preferred proletarian lovers, I didn’t like to talk.