Walking briskly from her flat to work, Anna was apprehensive. Pulling her scarf more tightly around her neck, she headed up the steps of the University Hospital. A light snow was falling and there was no wind, but Anna felt unusually cold. She braced herself against the chill and began taking the steps two at a time, watching little clouds disappear and return every time she took a breath. Opening the door to the building she turned slightly to look back, pretending to struggle with her purse. She saw the parked car and turned away.
Monday mornings were always hectic. Anna was now an Associate Director of Surgery at the hospital, the result of her outstanding residency at the University Hospital, Berlin Medical School.
Today, her customary surgical rounds with resident physicians would have to wait. She was now a faculty member, and as such, she was scheduled to attend a meeting at 10:00 a.m. of the newly formed Counsel on Eugenics.
Anna had been informed of the meeting a few days earlier. It concerned her immediately. For all the accolades she was receiving for her professional accomplishments, trust was a diminishing commodity. She had already discussed the meeting with her surgical colleague, Christian Engel. She smiled to herself as she thought back to that conversation..... “There’s something….ominous about it,” she had confided in him. “I have a bad feeling. It can’t be anything positive, and I feel trapped.”
“You aren’t superstitious, Anna,” was all he would say.
“But Christian,” she demanded. “Eugenics? I haven’t thought about eugenics since I studied Plato.” He stopped walking and turned to look at her. Several doctors rounded the corner he nodded toward them. Their conversation was still vivid in her mind.
“This isn’t the place to talk about it, Anna. Besides, we will know soon enough what this is all about. Now weren’t we headed for lunch? As I recall, you were going to buy me the best lukewarm meal the cafeteria has to offer.”
She had smiled then and pulled out the inside of her coat pocket.
“Ah,” he laughed. “Empty again. So I buy the lukewarm stew today.” Christian could always get a smile out of her. They had gone through their surgical training together and had been both classmates and friends. For years, Christian had been her most trusted ally. Now she was in love with him.
Like most surgeons, Anna had become a morning person. During her medical training, she and her fellow students learned more about quality naps than long hours of sleep, a habit that didn’t change once she became a doctor. She was used to working extended hours with little rest. As she moved through the hospital’s massive lobby she quickened her pace, her boots playing staccato across the gray, marble floor. She had arrived unusually early. And on this particular morning, she also felt something unusual. She was not prone to bad days or moodiness. She wasn’t tired. But as she turned to head upstairs, she put the palm of her hand softly against her abdomen and took a deep breath. She recognized the feeling. Anna was nervous.
These were uncertain times. The advent of Adolph Hitler as Chancellor of the German Republic had changed much more than the political landscape. His appointment in 1933 had painted a new picture of Germany, one highlighted with bloodshed and political purges. Most of the country’s citizens had initially welcomed a change. Even as the turmoil increased, they remained confident, lulled into believing that difficult changes required difficult measures.
Time would pass, and with it, the upheaval. In the end, Hitler would take them forward and the democratic process would take the country to a higher level.
Anna sat at her desk and poured a second cup of coffee. She still had plenty of time before the meeting. She stared out the window and allowed her thoughts to drift back to that crisp October day in 1934, when she and classmate Uri Avner attended a Nazi rally. The two had traveled by auto to Munich, where Hitler was to address the rally. Forty thousand people showed up, almost half in Nazi uniforms. Some held large banners displaying the Swastika. The colors were bold, the sounds were deafening and the air was electric. When Hitler spoke, he was mesmerizing.
Anna and Uri stood in the crowd, stunned at the power of this man who presented himself as a humble prophet, yet promised to commit himself to the task of improving the lives of all Germans. Whatever humility he brought to the podium died beneath the pounding of his fists and was resurrected as power personified. In apocalyptic language he spoke of a 1,000 year Reich, of social justice and reform. Like everyone else in the crowd, Anna and Uri were swept up in the oration and stirred by his passion and the content of his words.
That fall was ebullient; Anna and Uri and millions of other Germans could not know that they were subtly and carefully being lured into a web of deceit the likes of which the world had not seen. Anna, like so many others, was encouraged by the promises of this ‘messiah’ and elated at the prospects he laid out for her country. She believed she was witnessing a historic rebirth of Germany and that she would be a part of it. She would indeed be a part of it. Anna was a Jew.
The reprisals were already well underway. The Jews were the principle targets of the Nazi cabal, although many within the intellectual community had so far, been unscathed. Anna made every effort to pour herself into her work at the University. She was admired as a professor and teacher of surgery. She had recently received a coveted award as the outstanding teacher in the University system. Surely things would continue to go well for her.
Anna stood up from her desk and glanced out the window. She was looking for the car. Earlier that morning she had seen it during the four block walk to the University. For almost a month she had noticed the intermittent presence of a gray car parked at the corner of Meuerstrasse and Unter den Linden. It sat like a stone beside the Russian Embassy, a single occupant behind the wheel. The driver never moved. It had taken her several weeks to realize that she was being watched.
Anna was by nature, an optimist. As a child, she’d had little reason to resort to denial or force a positive attitude as a kind of defense mechanism. She had been raised in a loving home, with talented, generous and faithful parents. She believed in God and in the power of faith. Raised on such a firm foundation of values and goodness, it was natural for her to stand on this even on the few occasions when she had been troubled or upset. During such times, she would focus on the things and the people she loved. This morning was no different. Anna was troubled. So she turned her thoughts to Christian.
He had always loved her. Since their days in medical school, Christian had waited patiently for Anna to return his affection. She never did, so he was content to be her friend. He had met her parents and admired them. But he knew after that first introduction that his chances for anything more than friendship with Anna were even more diminished. They would never approve of a gentile who had a romantic interest in their daughter.
The National Socialist government had only complicated the issue. In 1934, the Laws for Protection of German Blood and Honor (known as the Nuremberg Laws) were passed. The first of the three laws abolished the citizenship of all Jews in Germany. They simply became ‘subjects of the state.’The second law prohibited marriage or any sexual relationship between Aryans and Jews. The final law stated that no Jew could raise or lower the German flag. These laws were strictly enforced by the Gestapo. Anna had learned of a Jewish man who received a two-month prison term for just speaking to a 16- year old German girl.
Still, Anna and Christian spent hours together. They studied at school and as resident physicians. They had coffee together and took long walks. She knew that he admired her beauty. And she knew he was fond of her. But Anna thought of him as the brother she never had. That’s why her sudden attraction to him after all these years had come as such a surprise. She loved to talk with him, laugh with him, confide in him. Then suddenly, she wanted his arms around her.
It had happened in an instant. One evening they were having coffee in the surgical lounge. Christian was laughing at something she said. He was looking away at the time and his eyes were smiling and sweet. Anna was overcome. She reached under the table and took his hand. His startled expression caused her to laugh out loud.
Anna had never been in love. And Christian had never dreamed she would return his love for her. As the evening grew late, Anna and Christian walked to her apartment and she invited him in. There was suddenly so much to say and so many feelings to express. Anna felt reborn as she listened to Christian pour his love into words.
“Anna, I loved you before I knew you. I always believed God had a girl for me. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl. You wanted friendship. I wanted your love. I knew you didn’t really know how I felt about you. Besides, after I met your parents, I knew they wouldn’t approve of me. But I still couldn’t stop loving you. I tried. I spent time with other girls. But all I could ever think about was you.”
“What other girls?” Anna snapped. Then she smiled. “Oh, so now you want to know,” he laughed.
As the two sat in her tiny living room, Anna looked at Christian and began to feel warmth spreading across her stomach. It moved up her neck and into her face. She felt flushed. What would it be like to hold him? How would his lips feel on hers? She had never been intimate with any man.
“I never thought of loving you…this way,” was all she could whisper. Christian stroked her face and moved closer.
“I was so busy with school, with my life. I just didn’t….” Anna swallowed and struggled for the right words.
“I’m not sure how to move from where we were to what we are now. It’s so new. It’s like trying to get into a room…I’m already in.
Simultaneously they moved toward each other. Anna had been speaking so softly, Christian had moved closer to hear her. But Anna didn’t speak. Instead, she kissed him. Christian closed his eyes, afraid that if he opened them he would see that it was all a dream. But her hands moved up to his face and he could feel her cool fingertips run lightly across his cheek.
“Pinch me,” he managed to say.
Anna giggled softly and kissed him again. They remained in each other’s arms, sharing kisses and talking until after 2:00 a.m. When he stood to leave, Anna wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest. They didn’t speak for several minutes. Anna turned her head from side to side, as though trying to take in all of him. Christian ran his hands through her hair and breathed in the scent of her.
“I have to go,” he finally said. “Remember, we’re both working today.”
One, long, lingering kiss later, and Christian finally pulled himself away from her. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Not soon enough,” she said with a smile as she shut the door behind him.
* * *
Anna forced herself back to reality and glanced at the clock. She looked around at her office, a private space on the building’s third floor. Her position afforded a secretary, and Anna felt fortunate to have the services and friendship of Theresa Schmidt. Theresa arrived every morning at 8:30. They had developed a ritual. Over coffee, they would visit for a few minutes then move on to the day’s schedule and administrative issues. In the last few months they had found time to discuss more important matters.
Other than Christian and her parents, Theresa Schmidt was the only person in all of Germany whom Anna trusted. Five years earlier, tragedy had befallen Theresa and her family. Theresa’s husband, Dr. Willi Schmidt, was the eminent music critic of the Muenchener Neueste Nachrichten, the leading Munich daily newspaper. Their apartment was in Schackstrasse in Munich, and Theresa had made it a very comfortable home for Willi and their three children. On the evening of June 30th, Willi was in his study playing his cello while the children played in the living room. The doorbell rang and four SS men entered. Without explanation, they took Dr. Schmidt away. Four days later his body was returned in a coffin with orders that the family was not to open it. Dr. Schmidt had been mistaken for S.A. leader Willi Schmidt, who had been marked for assassination. The Gestapo later moved Theresa and her children to Berlin where she was given a job at the University and a small pension. Theresa never spoke of the Nazis and had grown fiercely loyal to Anna.
At 8:30 sharp, Theresa walked in the door. She and Anna talked for several minutes. Theresa was well aware that Anna’s citizenship had been abolished by the Nuremberg Laws and that most Jews in Berlin were being forced to wear a yellow six- pointed ‘star of David’ on their coats. Jewish medical doctors and scientists employed by the University had not yet been required to do this. Anna and Theresa were extremely cautious in their conversations. They believed there were listening devices in the office.
Theresa knew about Christian. She was the only friend to whom Anna had divulged this information, and they had spoken of it only once. Theresa was well aware it was only a matter of time before the Nazis would remove Anna from her position. Jews were rapidly being removed from positions of authority.
The two women were silent for a moment and then Anna grabbed her notepad and her bag. “I’m off to the meeting,” she said lightly. Theresa looked down at her notes.
“Yes, the eugenics meeting,” she said aloud. “Good luck.”
But Anna was already out the door. She took the side stairway down one flight and then across a long elevated corridor that led from the main hospital to the medical school building. The corridor was poorly heated and she walked quickly, drawing her white lab coat tightly around her chest. The main lecture hall was on the same floor. As she approached, two SS. sergeants stood at the door. They nodded, a gesture she acknowledged with a returning nod but without making eye contact.
Some thirty faculty members were already gathered in the lecture hall. Most were from the departments of medicine, pediatrics, anesthesia and surgery. Anna’s eyes scanned the crowd until they found Christian. They looked at each other but neither one allowed their expressions to change. Anna took a seat near the front, the sole female and one of only three Jews on the faculty of the school.
Within minutes, one of three SS. officers stood to address the group.
“My name is Col. Gregor Papen. I am the deputy commissioner for the Counsel on Eugenics. We are here to inform the medical community of our program and to enlist your help in accomplishing our task. The Fuhrer understands and appreciates the dedication your staff has demonstrated in saving lives and fighting diseases. Our program is also a noble effort and will be carried out with the same dedication.
The program will have two components. The first will be research to aid our military. The second will aid our cause to purify the German people, something we must accomplish.”
Papen went on to explain that there would be complete secrecy about the program. It would be administered by the faculty but would take place in various ‘clinics’ outside the main medical campus. Papen stressed that the ‘subjects’ would all be enemies of the state and would be moved from the prison system to the clinics. The research would be on living subjects to study gas gangrene, burns and the effects of hypothermia.
One group would be injected with Clostridia bacteria, the agent that causes myonecrosis or gas gangrene. The physiologic responses would be noted. The second group would be anesthetized and given scald burns on 30 to 50 percent of their bodies. He explained that the treatment of burns in warfare was critical to the welfare of German soldiers. The third group would be placed naked in ice water until their core temperature reached 88 degrees F. The patient’s physiologic reactions would be observed. “The second phase of our program will be the cleansing phase,” he said.
Papen’s eyes showed no emotion. He did not appear angry or even stern. He may not have been gifted as an orator, but he was clever enough to know that there was no place for sentiment in instructions such as these. Sentiment could lead to failure. And his was a program that must succeed.
In clinical fashion, Papen carefully outlined the cleansing phase. It would consist of sterilizing children and young adults with birth defects and mental and emotional problems. Thus, the disabled would not be capable of procreation.
Anna felt herself sinking into her chair. The movement was imperceptible to others and she didn’t make a sound. But from someplace deep within, she felt a weight settle over her like a blanket. What rose from it was an unfamiliar sense of anger and shame. She could no longer hear Papen. She was seeing in her mind, the ‘program.’ She had been taught to heal. She had taken an oath. Now she would have patients upon whom she was to inflict extreme physical harm and pain. This was not a medical program. This was a series of barbaric and sadistic experiments…. professional crimes; inhumane practices….. the antithesis of her profession.
Anna brought her lips together. Had anyone been looking directly at her, they might have thought she was about to whistle. Instead, she silently and softly exhaled, breathing out the fear and tension. She was going deeper into herself and into her chair. Anna looked just slightly to the left of Papen. She could not look directly into his face. She found a point on the wall just behind his ear and tried for a moment to find another image. But for the first time in her life, Anna could not think of pretty things or lovely people. She couldn’t conjure images of stolen kisses with Christian. The man before her was fading. And in his place, Anna could see the definitive outline of horror.
The faculty was dismissed. They began to file silently out of the lecture hall. They were now, each of them, participants in ‘the program’ which would begin in one month. Anna forced herself to stand. She was still trying to find the strength to take a step when Papen approached her.
“Dr. Eichenwald.” He said. Anna heard her name and drew in her breath again. She turned to him, unable to speak.
“We would like a few moments of your time,” he continued. “You, Dr. Meitner and Dr. Richburg.”
Anna and the other two Jewish faculty members were being detained. She looked around for Christian but he had already left the room.
Papen escorted them into a small filming room where there was a movie projector and seven chairs. They sat down methodically. In silence, they each asked themselves how their beloved country could have come to such a place or succumbed to such indignity and inhumanity. They also knew that it no longer mattered just how Germany had gotten there. What mattered was that it had. And they were trapped in it.
Papen dimmed the lights and started the projector. The first image on the screen was Berlin’s Plotzensee Prison. The next image that came into view was an execution chamber. Six men were led in, hands bound behind them and black hoods covering their faces. They were forced to stand on a long bench, while piano wire, attached to a series of meat hooks, was placed around their necks. The bench was then kicked from under them. Their deaths took three to four minutes. The final minute or so found their bodies contorted with agonal convulsions. The projector stopped and the lights came on. Papen stood before them with a look of contempt.
“The Fuhrer expects this program to be implemented!” For the first time, he shouted when he spoke. Then he turned and walked out of the room leaving the three doctors to sit in stunned silence. Anna legs were shaking and she knew she couldn’t stand up. The seconds ticked by. Still no one spoke. Finally, Dr. Meitner stood.
“Well…” he began. But he couldn’t lift his eyes off the floor and his colleagues could not meet his. They left the room in silence.