was so complete that Franz could not help, but stare at him. Franz thought, he had experienced war, but this man had experienced hell!
Before Franz could do or say anything else, the figure reached in to his coat pocket and pulled out an oblong metal disk and flashed it before Franz’s face. The sudden motion made Franz jump back in terror. He thought the man might be pulling out some type of weapon.
“I said Gestapo, and that should be enough reason to let me in, you fool.” Blurted out the Gestapo agent.
“Please forgive, Sir. I was a little surprised by your actions and this late visit. What can I do for you?” Asked the rabbi.
“It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” Replied the still unidentified man.
“Do you think, we could perhaps go into your living room and talk?” Asked the Gestapo man.
“But of course Mein Herr, I am terribly sorry.” Answered Franz as he pointed to the living room.
Franz led the way down the hallway into the living room. It was small, but yet cozy. The large metal potbelly stove was still purring heat, and it gave the room a warm and comfortable feeling. The Gestapo agent looked around the room and noticed several interesting items on the far wall. On top of the cupboard were several military decorations, photos, awards and two regimental battle flags. Additionally in a glass case, there were two high ranking German medals and the written citations to those medals.
“So you are a veteran? Are you?” Asked the Gestapo man with a sneering tone in his voice.
“Ja, that is correct. I served from 1914 to 1918 as a Regimental Sergeant Major in France.” Replied Franz, his chest expanding with pride.
“I see you were awarded the Iron Cross First class?” Asked the stranger.
“As a matter of fact, I received that award twice.” Replied the now boasting Franz, as he waived his hand over his many awards.
“Quite a honor for a Jew. Don’t you think?” Mocked the scarred man.
“I am a German citizen first, and a Jew by birth, religion and heritage. What does my religion have to do with my military service? My family has lived in this area for almost three hundred years, and many of my ancestors also served in the armed forces with distinction.” Stated Franz in a rather forceful tone.
“You are still the same stubborn Sergeant Major, I knew in France.” Replied the now smiling Gestapo man.
“France? France? Do I know you? Did we serve together in Reims?” Asked Franz.
“Yes to all the above. As a matter of fact, I am the reason you won that second Iron Cross, you fool. Don’t you remember the last attack on Fort La Bombelle? It’s me! Dieter Krieger, your lieutenant!” Stated the scarred stranger.
“Oh my God! It’s been so long. I did not recognize you. We, we, had heard you ended up in a French P.O.W. camp after the war.” Replied Franz.
“No news from you in nearly twenty years, and now this?” Stuttered Franz, as he extended his arms out towards his old comrade.
“Well it’s true. But they treated me pretty good, except for the scars. I guess I can’t complain, they saved my life after all. After the war and the long stay in their hospital, I just did not want to come back looking like this. I ended up in Munich, and drifted around until I met some old friends from the 316th Bavarian Reserve Regiment. They helped me out, and eventually I joined the National Socialist German Workers’ Party, AKA NSDAP. Later to be known as the Nazi Party, of course.” Finished Johann Krieger, almost out of breath.
“Well it sounds like you have had an exciting life, but what brings you back home to Niedergeyer this evening?” Replied Franz as he pointed to the large overstuffed leather chair near the stove.
Johann took the hint and made himself comfortable.
He seemed to be at a lost for words, until Franz reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Dornkaart corn liquor and offered some to Dieter.
“Here my old friend, this should help warm you up.” Quipped Franz as he poured a generous portion of the powerful drink into a large tumbler.
“Thank you, I needed that.” Offered Johann as he raised his glass towards Franz.
“Prosit (cheers)!” Replied Franz, as he stood up.
“Cheers to you my old friend. I am really happy to see you again, but I am sure that this nighttime intrusion is not a social call? Is it now?” Asked an inquisitive Franz, his eyes looking straight into Johann’s face.
“No, you are correct in your assumption. I don’t know where to begin? I am actually stationed at the party’s headquarters office in Dueren. We received orders today from Berlin to take action against all Jewish agitators, their businesses, homes and synagogues.” Stated a somewhat subdued Johann. His voice quivering with emotion.
“What do you mean? Take action? Asked a troubled Franz.
“Where have you been for the past six years? Don’t you know what is going on in Germany? Our Fuehrer has ordered us to round up all the Jewish troublemakers, and that includes you Franz!” Stated an obviously distraught Krieger.
“What are you talking about? Troublemaker? I am a loyal German citizen, and I have never done anything wrong, or for that matter caused any trouble in my entire life.” Complained Franz, as he suddenly sat down to catch his breath.
Johann stared at him, knowing full well that his old friend was right, but there was nothing he could do about it, other than to warn him.
“Franz, get a grip on yourself and face reality. No matter what you say or believe, the powers to be are going to take action. You are powerless to stop them! Listen to me! Tomorrow, I will be back with some of my comrades, and I will be forced to burn down your synagogue and arrest anyone who gets in our way!” Stated a somewhat reluctant Johann Krieger.
Franz was in shock. He could not believe what he was hearing. His country and their leaders were going to betray him and his faith.
“But, but, but Johann, isn’t there anything you can do?” Asked an emotional and teary-eyed Franz.
“You fool! What do you think I am doing now! Do you know what would happen to my family and me if I were to be found out? Yes, I would end up in the same place you might be going unless you leave this evening! Is that understood? All of you must be gone when I return tomorrow morning! I have no choice Franz. You must flee to Belgium this evening and never return! If you pack your belongings in the next hour, you could be in Liege by three in the morning and to Oostende by morning. There are ferries to England on the hour, and by this time tomorrow evening you could be in London safe and sound?” Stated a pleading Johann.
Franz gazed at his old comrade in arms, but no words could come out of his mouth. This paralysis lasted a whole minute or two. Both men just stared at each other without saying anything. Finally Franz broke the ice.
“I, I, I can’t believe this is happening to me. We don’t have a single enemy here. Why are they doing this to us?” Asked a confused Franz.
“I am sorry you can’t
