Читаем The Kindly Ones полностью

I was already working night and day, and snatching two hours of sleep when I could; but to tell the truth, I didn’t really contribute to the planning: the officers of the Teilkommandos, who weren’t yet entirely snowed under (they were shooting politruki unmasked by Vogt’s interrogators and a few suspects picked up more or less at random, but no more than that), took charge of it. The meetings with the Sixth Army and the HSSPF resumed the next day. The Sonderkommando proposed a site: west of the city, in the Syrets neighborhood, near the Jewish cemetery but still outside the inhabited zones, there were some wide ravines that would do well. “There’s also a freight depot there,” Blobel added. “That will let the Jews think we’re sending them away to settle somewhere else.” The Wehrmacht sent some surveyors to plot the land: based on their report, Jeckeln and Blobel decided on the ravine known as the Grandmother or the Old Lady, at the bottom of which ran a little stream. Blobel called together all his officers: “The Jews to be executed are antisocials, without any value, useless for Germany. We will also include asylum patients, Gypsies, and any other useless mouths to feed. But we’ll start with the Jews.” We studied the maps attentively; we had to position the cordons, arrange the routes, and plan the transports; reducing the number of trucks and the distances would save gasoline; it was also necessary to consider the munitions and food supplies for the troops; everything had to be calculated. For that we also had to decide on the method of execution: Blobel finally settled on a variation of the Sardinenpackung. For the shooters and the escorts of the condemned, Jeckeln insisted we use his two Orpo battalions, which visibly upset Blobel. There were also Grafhort’s Waffen-SS and Hauptmann Krumme’s Orpos. For the cordons, the Sixth Army placed several companies at our disposal, and they would supply the trucks. Häfner set up a depot for sorting the valuables, between the Lukyanovskoe and the Jewish cemeteries, a hundred and fifty meters from the ravine: Eberhard insisted the apartment keys be recovered and labeled, since the fires had thrown twenty-five thousand civilians out on the street, and the Wehrmacht wanted to rehouse them as soon as possible. The Sixth Army delivered one hundred thousand cartridges to us and printed up posters, in German, Russian, and Ukrainian, on cheap gray wrapping paper. Blobel, when he wasn’t immersed in his maps, somehow found time for other activities; that afternoon, with the help of the engineers, he had the Cathedral of the Dormition dynamited, a superb little eleventh-century Orthodox church in the middle of the lavra: “The Ukrainians have to pay a little too,” he explained to us later on with satisfaction. I discussed this in passing with Vogt, since I didn’t understand the sense of this action at all; according to him, it was definitely not an initiative of Blobel’s, but he had no idea who could have authorized or ordered it. “The Obergruppenführer, probably. It’s his style.” In any case it wasn’t Dr. Rasch, whom we saw hardly at all anymore. When I met Thomas in a hallway I asked him furtively: “What’s happening with the Brigadeführer? He doesn’t look right.”—“He’s been arguing with Jeckeln. And also with Koch.” Erich Koch, the Gauleiter of East Prussia, had been named Reichskommissar of the Ukraine a month before. “What about?” I asked.—“I’ll tell you later. Anyway he won’t be around much longer. One question, though: the Jews in the Dnieper, is that you guys?” The night before, all the Jews who had gone to synagogue for Shabbat had disappeared; their bodies had been found in the morning, floating in the river. “The army has filed a complaint,” he went on. “They say that actions like that disturb the civilian population. It’s not gemütlich.”—“And what we’re planning is gemütlich? I think the civilian population will soon have other things to worry about.”—“It’s not the same. On the contrary, they’ll be delighted to be rid of their Jews.” I shrugged: “No, it wasn’t us. As far as I know. We’re a little busy, right now, we have other things to see to. And also those are not really our methods.”

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги

Текст
Текст

«Текст» – первый реалистический роман Дмитрия Глуховского, автора «Метро», «Будущего» и «Сумерек». Эта книга на стыке триллера, романа-нуар и драмы, история о столкновении поколений, о невозможной любви и бесполезном возмездии. Действие разворачивается в сегодняшней Москве и ее пригородах.Телефон стал для души резервным хранилищем. В нем самые яркие наши воспоминания: мы храним свой смех в фотографиях и минуты счастья – в видео. В почте – наставления от матери и деловая подноготная. В истории браузеров – всё, что нам интересно на самом деле. В чатах – признания в любви и прощания, снимки соблазнов и свидетельства грехов, слезы и обиды. Такое время.Картинки, видео, текст. Телефон – это и есть я. Тот, кто получит мой телефон, для остальных станет мной. Когда заметят, будет уже слишком поздно. Для всех.

Дмитрий Алексеевич Глуховский , Дмитрий Глуховский , Святослав Владимирович Логинов

Детективы / Современная русская и зарубежная проза / Социально-психологическая фантастика / Триллеры
Айза
Айза

Опаленный солнцем негостеприимный остров Лансароте был домом для многих поколений отчаянных моряков из семьи Пердомо, пока на свет не появилась Айза, наделенная даром укрощать животных, призывать рыб, усмирять боль и утешать умерших. Ее таинственная сила стала для жителей острова благословением, а поразительная красота — проклятием.Спасая честь Айзы, ее брат убивает сына самого влиятельного человека на острове. Ослепленный горем отец жаждет крови, и семья Пердомо спасается бегством. Им предстоит пересечь океан и обрести новую родину в Венесуэле, в бескрайних степях-льянос.Однако Айзу по-прежнему преследует злой рок, из-за нее вновь гибнут люди, и семья вновь вынуждена бежать.«Айза» — очередная книга цикла «Океан», непредсказуемого и завораживающего, как сама морская стихия. История семьи Пердомо, рассказанная одним из самых популярных в мире испаноязычных авторов, уже покорила сердца миллионов. Теперь омытый штормами мир Альберто Васкеса-Фигероа открывается и для российского читателя.

Альберто Васкес-Фигероа

Проза / Современная русская и зарубежная проза / Современная проза