Читать книгу 'Das Haus' the House and the Son of the Rabbi - Sean Ryan Stuart - Страница 14

Chapter 8

The Real Heroes

The morning could not come soon enough for Erik and his sister. They both got up before dawn and took a quick shower and hurried downstairs. Both of their parents were actually still sleeping when they loudly knocked on their bedroom door.

“What, what? Who is it, and why are you waking us so early?” Asked a still groggy Franz.

“It’s us, Vater.” Replied Erik.

“OK, OK, OK, I know it’s you, but why are you up at this ungodly hour?” Asked Franz, as he got out of bed and put his housecoat on.

“Please don’t be angry, we only thought that after last night, it might be a good idea to get up early and leave town, before, before, before?” Stuttered Erik.

“Well son, it’s probably a good idea, but I have decided to wait and see what happens? I just can’t leave town without informing the rest of the families. You do understand? Don’t you?” Asked Franz, looking directly into his son’s big brown eyes.

“No, no I don’t! That, that man last night warned us. And I am afraid Vater.” Replied a nervous Erik.

“Sometimes we must leave our destiny in the hands of our God. You have every right to be afraid, but God will show me the way.” Stated Rabbi Goldmann.

Erik looked downwards and then away from his father. He was thoroughly confused, but he trusted his father and did not want to upset him. His mother appeared and told the children to go to the kitchen and wait for breakfast. Both of them answered in the affirmative and walked into the cold room. A few minutes later, Sarah walked in, still dressed in her nightgown and lit the stove. Within minutes the kitchen was warn and cozy, as they had always known it. She made a pot of coffee with lots of milk and sugar for the kids. She wanted to make sure that everyone had plenty to eat today.

Sarah boiled eight eggs, cut eight crunchy breakfast rolls, served fresh cheese, sliced roast beef and homemade marmalade. This was a feast, and she smiled when she saw her children devour every bite on their plate. Before she could finish the dishes, the church bell began to ring in an unusual but, rapid fashion. This was the signal for the volunteer fire department to report to the firehouse. Both of the kids looked up to their mother as if asking permission to go to the fire.

“No, no, no! Don’t even think about! Today is not the day to go and get lost. You need to stay close to home. Please, don’t look at me with those puppy eyes. I am not changing my mind! What do you think Franz? Asked Sarah.

“Well, for once I agree with you.” Replied a smiling Rabbi.

“Oh, you are incorrigible. You will give them the wrong impression.” Stated Sarah as she stood up and walked towards the open window.

“Franz, Franz. Maybe you should go and see what is going? Half the village is running towards the church.” Begged a now concerned Sarah.

“OK, OK. Calm down. I will go now, but all of you stay nearby and don’t wonder away! Is that understood?” Stated the ex-Sergeant Major. His voice booming across the whole downstairs.

“Yes, yes. Just go and see what is going, please.” Asked a concerned Sarah.

Franz dressed hurriedly and ran out unto the street. Most of his neighbors had already left their homes and were halfway down the street. As he caught up with them, he asked a man next to him if he knew what was going on?

“No I don’t, but it must be important because everyone is there!” Screamed the stranger as he outdistanced him.

Back in the present time.

“Wow, that is an incredible story. I had no clue that this house had such a historical and religious background. Please continue you have me in suspense.” Stated Cameron to an excited Dieter. OK Cameron, let’s continue, finished Dieter. His father –in-law resumed the story.

November 9 th , 1938

By the time Franz got to the corner where the church and synagogue stood, he suddenly had a horrible thought. Those armed SS Sicherheitdienst troopers, and Gestapo agents were not there for a picnic. A large throng had gathered in front of the synagogue. Four members of the SS and Gestapo were heatedly discussing with members of the volunteer fire department. Rabbi Goldmann mingled in with the crowd and listened.

A rather large and balding man was shouting at the top of his lungs to a gathered group of volunteer fireman. His erratic behavior only made matters worst.

“You will burn it down, and you will do it now! That is an order! Do you understand?” Finished the out of control Sturmbannfuhrer (Major).

Hans Ebberhardt, the volunteer fire department’s acting chief, slowly looked up at the screaming madman and said in a calm, yet firm voice.

“We are firemen! Not arsonist! We put fires out, not start them! We will not burn the synagogue! I don’t care what you say!” Shouted an irate Ebberhardt.

The mad Sturmbannfuhrer glared at the firefighters, his eyes bulging out of his skull like a crazed Chihuahua dog in heat. He nervously circled the area, his arms and hands waving about like a crazed individual. Eventually he calmed down, long enough to shout.

“Do you realize what you are doing? This is an order from higher headquarters. I have full authority to take whatever measures I see fit! And if I were you I would not push it too far! Do you understand what I am saying?” Continued the irate Nazi.

“I hear what you are saying, but I still cannot order my men to burn down this holy shrine. This is an unlawful order and we cannot in good conscience follow your command.” Replied a still defiant Chief Ebberhardt.

Rabbi Goldmann stood there not knowing what to say or do. He was in a trance, not wanting to believe that his own countrymen were contemplating burning down his house of worship. Before he could react or make a move, the crazy Nazi continued screaming at the top of his lungs.

“OK, you have had all the chances you are going to get. If you refuse to burn down this filthy house of Jews, I will put all of you inside, and your families, and burn you up alive! Screamed the enraged despot. Even this threat did not move the firemen to action.

The crowd suddenly grew quiet, as Rabbi Goldman walked out and stood in front of his synagogue. He had a serene, yet strong presence about him. He waived to the brave firemen, as if to tell them, Thank you for your heroics, but it is my duty now and I will assume all responsibility.

The Nazis, firemen and spectators were all taken by surprise. Rabbi Goldmann stood there defiantly, his arm folded; glaring at the storm troopers. His action was more symbolic than useful. How could one man stop the inevitable? Was it the first open act of defiance against the Nazis? Was he the first Jew to say enough? He was not going to allow this madman the burn down his synagogue!

“Don’t you think that you are going to stop us. I am going to Dueren to get reinforcements, and you will all pay the price!” shouted the bald Nazi as he stormed off towards his vehicle.

Just then, Niedergeyer’s only police officer and chief, Wolgang Baume, appeared on the scene and wanted to know what was going on? Rabbi Goldmann and Chief Ebberhardt told him the whole story. Chief Baume was outraged and told all present to disperse and that he would handle it from now on. He mumbled under his breath that if anyone attempted to burn the synagogue, he would personally arrest them for arson! He proceeded to scatter all of the remaining spectators by loudly blowing on his police whistle and frantically waving his arms back and forth. Once he was assured that the crowd was under control, he returned to his home.

Rabbi Goldmann took the opportunity to return to his residence. On the way, many of his neighbors congratulated him for standing up to the Nazis, and not allowing them to bully them.

Franz’s old war buddy, Johann Krieger; current Gestapo agent and Nazi party member, purposely maintained a low profile. He hid behind a grove of antique oak trees and made himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Krieger stood around in the background, and actually appeared to feel embarrassed by the ongoing events. After all, Johann was a hometown boy and he knew most of the inhabitants. However, no one had immediately recognized him. His disfiguring WWI scar had made it difficult to directly distinguish him from the many other WWI veterans.