UNTIL THE FALL OF 1942 THIRD COMPANY OF RESERVE POLICE Battalion 101, under Captain and SS-Hauptsturmführer Wolfgang Hoffmann, had led a charmed existence, largely spared from the killing that was becoming the predominant activity of the other units in the battalion. At Józefów two platoons of Third Company had initially been assigned to the outer cordon, and none of its members had been sent to the firing squads in the woods. When the battalion was transferred to the northern security zone in the Lublin district, Second and Third Platoons of Third Company were stationed in the county of Puławy. Third Platoon was stationed in the town of Puławy itself, under Hoffmann’s direct command, and Lieutenant Hoppner’s Second Platoon nearby, first in Kurów and then in Wandolin. In the county of Puławy the bulk of the Jewish population had already been deported to Sobibór in May 1942—the first Jews to be killed in that camp—and the remnants of the region’s Jewish population were concentrated in a “collection ghetto’’ in the small town of Końskowola, about six kilometers east of Puławy. Thus, only Lieutenant Peters’s First Platoon, stationed in the neighboring county of Radzyń, had been involved in the August deportations and late September shootings. Nor did the Polish resistance initially disturb Third Company’s sojourn in Puławy. Hoffmann later reported that they had found the county “relatively quiet,’’ and that before October not a single encounter with “armed bandits” had taken place.1
In early October, however, Third Company’s luck ran out. The “collection ghetto’’ at Końskowola, containing some 1,500 to 2,000 Jews,2 was scheduled to be cleared, like the ghettos in neighboring Radzyń. Northern Lublin was to be judenfrei. A considerable force was assembled for the task: all three platoons of Third Company, including Peters’s from Czemierniki; the local Gendarmerie post of some twelve men under First Lieutenant Jammer* (whose main task was to supervise the work of the local Polish police); a roving motorized company of Gendarmerie under First Lieutenant Messmann*; and about a hundred Hiwis and three SS men from Lublin.3 Third Company assembled in Puławy, where Hoffmann read his instructions from a piece of paper. The ghetto was to be combed and the Jews collected in the marketplace; those who could not move—the old, frail, and sick as well as infants—were to be shot on the spot. This had been standard procedure, he added, for quite some time.4
The policemen drove to Końskowola. Hoffmann, the senior police officer present, consulted with Jammer and Messmann and distributed the men. In contrast to the usual practice, the Hiwis were assigned to the cordon along with some of the police. The search commandos who initially entered the ghetto were composed of men from both Third Company and Messmann’s motorized Gendarmerie. Each commando was assigned a particular block of houses.5
The ghetto had been afflicted by an epidemic of dysentery, and many of the Jews could not walk to the marketplace or even rise from their beds. Thus shooting was heard everywhere as the commandos conducted their first sweep through the ghetto. One policeman recalled, “I myself shot six old people in the dwellings; they were bedridden people who explicitly asked me to do it.“6 After the first sweep was completed and most of the surviving Jews were collected at the marketplace, the units assigned to the cordon were called in to carry out a search of the ghetto. They had heard the continuous shooting already. As they searched the ghetto, they encountered corpses strewn everywhere.7
Many of the men remembered in particular the building that had served as the ghetto hospital—in fact nothing more than a large room filled with three or four levels of bunk beds and emitting a terrible stench. A group of five or six policemen was assigned to enter the room and liquidate the forty or fifty patients, most of whom were suffering from dysentery. “In any case almost all of them were extremely emaciated and totally undernourished. One could say they consisted of nothing but skin and bones.”8 No doubt hoping to escape the smell as quickly as possible, the policemen opened fire wildly as soon as they entered the room. Under the hail of bullets, bodies toppled from the upper bunks. “This way of proceeding so disgusted me, and I was so ashamed, that I immediately turned around and left the room,” reported one policeman.9 Another remembered, “At the sight of the sick, it was not possible for me to shoot at one of the Jews, and I intentionally aimed all my shots wide.” His sergeant, who had joined in the shooting, noticed his marksmanship, for “after the conclusion of the action he took me aside and reviled me as a ‘traitor’ and ‘coward’ and threatened to report the incident to Captain Hoffmann. However, he did not do that.”10
At the marketplace the Jews were separated, men on one side, women and children on the other. There was a selection of men between eighteen and forty-five, particularly skilled workers. Possibly some women were selected for work as well. These Jews were marched out of the ghetto to the train station outside Puławy, to be shipped to work camps in Lublin. They were in such a weakened condition that many could not make the five-kilometer march to the train station. Witnesses estimated that 500 to 1,000 Jews were selected for labor, but 100 were shot en route after collapsing from exhaustion.11
As the Jews deemed suitable for work were marched out of town, the remaining Jews—800 to 1,000 women and children as well as a large number of elderly men—were simultaneously led off to a shooting site in a woods beyond the edge of town. Peters’s First Platoon and some of Messmann’s Gendarmerie supplied the firing squads. First the Jewish men were taken into the woods, forced to lie face down, and shot. The women and children followed.12 One of the policemen chatted with the head of the Jewish council, a German Jew from Munich, until he too was led away at the end.13 When the policemen who had escorted the work Jews to the train station returned to the marketplace in Końskowola, they found it empty, but they could hear shooting from the woods. They were assigned to make one more sweep through the ghetto, after which they were allowed to break ranks and relax. By then it was late afternoon, and some of the men found a pleasant farmhouse and played cards.14
Twenty-five years later Wolfgang Hoffmann claimed to remember absolutely nothing of the Końskowola action, in which 1,100 to 1,600 Jews had been killed in a single day by policemen under his command. His amnesia may have been grounded not only in judicial expediency but also in the health problems he was experiencing during his assignment in Puławy. At the time Hoffmann blamed his illness on a dysentery vaccine that he had taken in late August. In the 1960s he found it more convenient to trace his illness to the psychological stress of the Józefów massacre.15 Whatever the cause, Hoffmann began to suffer from diarrhea and severe stomach cramps in September and October 1942. By his own account, his condition—diagnosed as vegetative colitis—was terribly aggravated by bumpy movement, as on a bicycle or in a car, and thus he personally led few of his company’s actions at this time. Nonetheless, out of “soldierly enthusiasm” and the hope of improvement, he refused to report his illness until the end of October. Only on November 2 did he enter the army hospital on doctor’s orders.
Uniformly, Hoffmann’s men offered a different perspective. By their observation his “alleged” bouts of stomach cramps, confining him safely to bed, coincided all too consistently with company actions that might involve either unpleasantness or danger. It became common for the men to predict, upon hearing the night before of a pending action, that the company chief would be bedridden by morning.
Hoffmann’s behavior rankled his men even more because of two aggravating factors. First, he had always been strict and unapproachable—a typical “base officer” who liked his white collar and gloves, wore his SS insignia on his uniform, and demanded considerable deference. His apparent timidity in the face of action now seemed the height of hypocrisy, and they derided him as a Pimpf, the term for a member of the ten- to fourteen-year-old age group of the Hitler Youth—in effect a “Hitler cub scout.”
Second, Hoffmann tried to compensate for his immobility by intensified supervision of his subordinates. He insisted on giving orders for everything from his bed, to all intents functioning not only as company commander but as platoon commander as well. Before every patrol or action, the noncommissioned officers reported to Hoffmann’s bedroom for detailed instructions, and afterward they reported to him personally again. Third Platoon, stationed in Puławy, had no lieutenant and was led by the senior sergeant, Justmann.* He in particular was allowed to make no disposition of men without Hoffmann’s approval. Justmann and the other sergeants felt they had been demoted to the rank of corporal.16
Hoffmann was hospitalized in Puławy from November 2 to November 25. He then returned to Germany for convalescent leave until after New Year’s. He briefly led his company again, for one month, before returning to Germany for renewed treatment. During this second leave in Germany, Hoffmann learned that Trapp had had him relieved of his company command.
Hoffmann’s relations with Trapp had already soured in January, when the battalion commander ordered all his officers, NCOs, and men to sign a special declaration pledging not to steal, plunder, or take goods without paying for them. Hoffmann wrote Trapp a blistering reply in which he explicitly refused to carry out this order because it deeply violated his “sense of honor.”17 Trapp had also heard unflattering accounts of Hoffmann’s inactivity in Puławy from his temporary replacement, First Lieutenant Messmann, commander of the motorized Gendarmerie company that had taken part in the Końskowola massacre. Trapp consulted with First Sergeant Karlsen* of Third Company, who confirmed the pattern of Hoffmann’s illness. On February 23, 1943, Trapp submitted his request that Hoffmann be dismissed from his post as company commander because he always reported sick before important actions and this “deficient sense of service” was not good for the morale of his men.18
The proud, touchy Hoffmann responded bitterly and energetically to his dismissal, claiming once again that his “honor as an officer and soldier had been most deeply hurt.” He accused Trapp of acting out of personal spite.19 Trapp responded in detail and was upheld. The commander of the Order Police for the Lublin district concluded that Hoffmann’s behavior had been “in no way satisfactory,” that if he really had been sick, he was irresponsible in not reporting according to regulations, and that he should be given an opportunity to prove himself with another unit.20
Hoffmann was in fact transferred to a police battalion that experienced frontline action in the fall of 1943 in Russia, where he earned the Iron Cross Second Class. He was later given command of a battalion of White Russian auxiliaries near Minsk, and then of a battalion of Caucasian “volunteers.” He ended the war as first staff officer for the commanding police general in Poznań.21 In short, from his subsequent career it would be difficult to conclude that Hoffmann’s behavior in the fall of 1942 was a case of cowardice, as his men and Trapp suspected. Ill he was. Whether his illness was initially caused by the murderous activities of Reserve Police Battalion 101 cannot be established, but he had the symptoms of psychologically induced “irritable colon” or “adaptive colitis.” Certainly, Hoffmann’s duties aggravated his condition. Moreover, it is clear that rather than using his illness to escape an assignment that involved killing the Jews of Poland, Hoffmann made every effort to hide it from his superiors and to avoid being hospitalized. If mass murder was giving Hoffmann stomach pains, it was a fact he was deeply ashamed of and sought to overcome to the best of his ability.