The Front Soldier
Rick Sirvint
Otto always considered himself an extremely lucky and fortunate man. He was, after all, living in the most beautiful country in the world-- Germany. It had the most advanced civilization, the most cultured people, and the best products. His city, Berlin, was the center of art and entertainment; his job as assistant desk manager at a popular hotel was rewarding and interesting; his lovely wife, Elizabeth, was affectionate and supportive; his four children were healthy, loving, and excellent in school.
Otto’s greatest source of pride was his remarkably successful service as a front soldier. It was not just that he was lucky during the war; he actually enjoyed killing the Fatherland’s enemies, not because he was cruel and lacking conscience, but because it was, in his view, the absolutely right thing to do.
Otto loved everything about being a German soldier. The intricate ways in which his kit, uniform and weapons were put together appealed to Otto’s feelings of pride, efficiency, and purposefulness. He would spend a lot of time admiring the accoutrements of a soldier-- his new model stahlhelm, steel helmet, his tall marching boots made of black leather, with 44 hob nails and iron plated heels, tunic and trousers, and his heavy woolen greatcoat. His equipment belt with its buckle and motto, Gott Mit Uns, “God is with us”, and its easy attachments of a breadbasket, water bottle, gas mask container, pouch for his stick grenades, six ammo pouches, were all pleasurable to his touch. He just liked the way everything fit together and the way he looked.
As a man, a soldier, and a German, Otto loved his weapons, how they were made, how to take care of them, what they could do. He was not per se, a lover of violence, a hater of other men, but as a man of conscience, it was his obligation to use his weapons to support the Fatherland until such time as its enemies came to their senses and let Germany live. It was for that mission that his Mauser Kar 98 carbine was designed, that he had a bayonet in a scabbard, that he acquired a Luger pistol and a light machine gun.
His skill as a soldier drew the attention of his officers and led to his promotion to sergeant. Some of them considered him officer material but refrained from recommending such a promotion due to prejudices against his social background.
If that bothered Otto at all, he neither showed nor expressed it. Defending Germany against its ancient enemy, France, against the double-crossing English, against the barbaric Russians, was enough satisfaction for Otto. What he thought politically was clear enough. Enemies surrounded Germany-- the imperialist empires of Britain and France were hypocrites to deny Germany living space, and Russia was the antithesis of all that was good and virtuous about Germany.
Otto was ambivalent about America. He admired American industry, the energy of her people, her skyscraper cities, and Hollywood movies. Otto had several cousins and a brother living in America who constantly urged and at times pleaded with him to move to the United States, but he always said, “No, Germany is my home.” He liked Americans but not the American government. “A government run by plutocrats who entered the war to make money in a quarrel between Britain, France, and Germany that they had no business to be part of” was the mantra that Otto repeated to his fellow soldiers when he had had a stein or two of beer.
When the terrible war was over, Otto would reflect on his experiences and discuss them with his wife and old front comrades who would often stay at Otto’s inexpensive, comfortable, cozy and convenient hotel located within walking distance of the Tiergarden Park and Unter den Linden restaurants and shops when they came to Berlin. Above all, Otto felt lucky. He had survived with only two minor wounds and wore with pride his Iron Cross - First Class.
Otto did have strong wartime memories and emotions, but they never really bothered him since he felt that he had done his duty and that Germany survived even if the outcome was not 100% what he had wished for.
His most prideful memory came when his infantry division marched into conquered Brussels. A German army propaganda camera was set up at a street corner, and his company began to goose step. As Otto’s ironclad heels hit the cobblestones and the left-right cadence was called out, sparks flew from them. An observing German staff officer looked at Otto’s company and at Otto in particular, and said to a lieutenant, “With soldiers like that, we could conquer the world.”
Otto killed but he was not a killer by inclination or disposition. When he became a machine gunner and slew a score of Americans who had made a foolish frontal assault against his hidden wooded position, Otto felt neither guilt or trauma, only satisfaction and pride at inflicting casualties on people who had killed several of his friends. It was, after all, war, and he was a good German soldier doing his patriotic duty, and all who knew him knew that no other soldier did it any better than himself.
Otto’s experiences on the Eastern Front were different. When his division moved into Poland, the Ukraine, and Russia, Otto felt that he was going into a vastly different world than France and Belgium. It was a landscape of primitive villages, vast undeveloped forests, few roads, bitterly cold winters, and peoples who seemed to have emerged from the dark ages.
Otto did not doubt the justice of the German army’s invasion. Russia was ruled by a tyrant, and consequently, without fear or hatred, he did his duty as well as any other German. He was a reliable machine gunner who killed hundreds of Russian soldiers during his service. On one occasion he had to stop shooting and leave his defensive position in order to remove Russian bodies that had piled up so high in front of him that he could no longer aim his gun.
Concerning the Jews he met, Otto had mixed feelings. He did not hate them, but he was disgusted by their appearance, their ragged clothing, their caftans and beards, the haggard faces of their women. These Ostjuden or eastern Jews smelled, and spoke a primitive, guttural language-Yiddish. They were not like the German Jews Otto was familiar with, men and women who wore chic clothing and were attractive and well educated.
Politically, Otto was uneasy about the anti-Semitic rhetoric of certain right wing politicians. His own anti-Semitism was rather mild and more of a common social prejudice. He accepted that Jews were clannish and had certain undesirable traits in common, such as an obsession with money and the ability to outthink gentiles in business transactions. However, based on the poverty of Polish and Russian Jews, Otto did not believe that a Jewish conspiracy ruled the world and caused the war, which he blamed on the English and the French. He also had enough war and peacetime experience to know that Jews, if anything, mistreated women less than many gentiles.
If asked, Otto would admit that there was a Jewish problem in Germany. He accepted the idea that Jews were overrepresented in medicine and law and that Jewish-owned department stores were bad for small German shop owners. He agreed that something had to be done about that. The illogic of criticizing people because they were hard working, law-abiding, and well educated never occurred to him.
On December 10, 1942, the Berlin Gestapo arrested Otto because a review of birth records indicated that three of his grandparents were Jewish and not two as formally believed. Therefore, Otto was no longer considered a mixed breed, a first-degree Mischlinge, but, rather, a full Jew according to Germany’s racial laws.
Despite his wife’s hysterical protests, Otto Behr, age 48, twice wounded and decorated German front soldier of the First World War, holder of the Iron Cross- First Class, found himself in February, 1943, in a crowded, unheated freight car along with other Jews. None of his wartime comrades spoke out for him nor did his employer.
As the train rumbled in a south-easterly direction from Berlin towards Poland, Otto thought that he was going to do war related work in a resettlement camp for Jews and that his luck had finally run out.
Fortunately, Otto had some luck remaining in that he did not know his real destination and what awaited him. In a very short while he no longer would have anything to worry about.
Otto’s greatest source of pride was his remarkably successful service as a front soldier. It was not just that he was lucky during the war; he actually enjoyed killing the Fatherland’s enemies, not because he was cruel and lacking conscience, but because it was, in his view, the absolutely right thing to do.
Otto loved everything about being a German soldier. The intricate ways in which his kit, uniform and weapons were put together appealed to Otto’s feelings of pride, efficiency, and purposefulness. He would spend a lot of time admiring the accoutrements of a soldier-- his new model stahlhelm, steel helmet, his tall marching boots made of black leather, with 44 hob nails and iron plated heels, tunic and trousers, and his heavy woolen greatcoat. His equipment belt with its buckle and motto, Gott Mit Uns, “God is with us”, and its easy attachments of a breadbasket, water bottle, gas mask container, pouch for his stick grenades, six ammo pouches, were all pleasurable to his touch. He just liked the way everything fit together and the way he looked.
As a man, a soldier, and a German, Otto loved his weapons, how they were made, how to take care of them, what they could do. He was not per se, a lover of violence, a hater of other men, but as a man of conscience, it was his obligation to use his weapons to support the Fatherland until such time as its enemies came to their senses and let Germany live. It was for that mission that his Mauser Kar 98 carbine was designed, that he had a bayonet in a scabbard, that he acquired a Luger pistol and a light machine gun.
His skill as a soldier drew the attention of his officers and led to his promotion to sergeant. Some of them considered him officer material but refrained from recommending such a promotion due to prejudices against his social background.
If that bothered Otto at all, he neither showed nor expressed it. Defending Germany against its ancient enemy, France, against the double-crossing English, against the barbaric Russians, was enough satisfaction for Otto. What he thought politically was clear enough. Enemies surrounded Germany-- the imperialist empires of Britain and France were hypocrites to deny Germany living space, and Russia was the antithesis of all that was good and virtuous about Germany.
Otto was ambivalent about America. He admired American industry, the energy of her people, her skyscraper cities, and Hollywood movies. Otto had several cousins and a brother living in America who constantly urged and at times pleaded with him to move to the United States, but he always said, “No, Germany is my home.” He liked Americans but not the American government. “A government run by plutocrats who entered the war to make money in a quarrel between Britain, France, and Germany that they had no business to be part of” was the mantra that Otto repeated to his fellow soldiers when he had had a stein or two of beer.
When the terrible war was over, Otto would reflect on his experiences and discuss them with his wife and old front comrades who would often stay at Otto’s inexpensive, comfortable, cozy and convenient hotel located within walking distance of the Tiergarden Park and Unter den Linden restaurants and shops when they came to Berlin. Above all, Otto felt lucky. He had survived with only two minor wounds and wore with pride his Iron Cross - First Class.
Otto did have strong wartime memories and emotions, but they never really bothered him since he felt that he had done his duty and that Germany survived even if the outcome was not 100% what he had wished for.
His most prideful memory came when his infantry division marched into conquered Brussels. A German army propaganda camera was set up at a street corner, and his company began to goose step. As Otto’s ironclad heels hit the cobblestones and the left-right cadence was called out, sparks flew from them. An observing German staff officer looked at Otto’s company and at Otto in particular, and said to a lieutenant, “With soldiers like that, we could conquer the world.”
Otto killed but he was not a killer by inclination or disposition. When he became a machine gunner and slew a score of Americans who had made a foolish frontal assault against his hidden wooded position, Otto felt neither guilt or trauma, only satisfaction and pride at inflicting casualties on people who had killed several of his friends. It was, after all, war, and he was a good German soldier doing his patriotic duty, and all who knew him knew that no other soldier did it any better than himself.
Otto’s experiences on the Eastern Front were different. When his division moved into Poland, the Ukraine, and Russia, Otto felt that he was going into a vastly different world than France and Belgium. It was a landscape of primitive villages, vast undeveloped forests, few roads, bitterly cold winters, and peoples who seemed to have emerged from the dark ages.
Otto did not doubt the justice of the German army’s invasion. Russia was ruled by a tyrant, and consequently, without fear or hatred, he did his duty as well as any other German. He was a reliable machine gunner who killed hundreds of Russian soldiers during his service. On one occasion he had to stop shooting and leave his defensive position in order to remove Russian bodies that had piled up so high in front of him that he could no longer aim his gun.
Concerning the Jews he met, Otto had mixed feelings. He did not hate them, but he was disgusted by their appearance, their ragged clothing, their caftans and beards, the haggard faces of their women. These Ostjuden or eastern Jews smelled, and spoke a primitive, guttural language-Yiddish. They were not like the German Jews Otto was familiar with, men and women who wore chic clothing and were attractive and well educated.
Politically, Otto was uneasy about the anti-Semitic rhetoric of certain right wing politicians. His own anti-Semitism was rather mild and more of a common social prejudice. He accepted that Jews were clannish and had certain undesirable traits in common, such as an obsession with money and the ability to outthink gentiles in business transactions. However, based on the poverty of Polish and Russian Jews, Otto did not believe that a Jewish conspiracy ruled the world and caused the war, which he blamed on the English and the French. He also had enough war and peacetime experience to know that Jews, if anything, mistreated women less than many gentiles.
If asked, Otto would admit that there was a Jewish problem in Germany. He accepted the idea that Jews were overrepresented in medicine and law and that Jewish-owned department stores were bad for small German shop owners. He agreed that something had to be done about that. The illogic of criticizing people because they were hard working, law-abiding, and well educated never occurred to him.
On December 10, 1942, the Berlin Gestapo arrested Otto because a review of birth records indicated that three of his grandparents were Jewish and not two as formally believed. Therefore, Otto was no longer considered a mixed breed, a first-degree Mischlinge, but, rather, a full Jew according to Germany’s racial laws.
Despite his wife’s hysterical protests, Otto Behr, age 48, twice wounded and decorated German front soldier of the First World War, holder of the Iron Cross- First Class, found himself in February, 1943, in a crowded, unheated freight car along with other Jews. None of his wartime comrades spoke out for him nor did his employer.
As the train rumbled in a south-easterly direction from Berlin towards Poland, Otto thought that he was going to do war related work in a resettlement camp for Jews and that his luck had finally run out.
Fortunately, Otto had some luck remaining in that he did not know his real destination and what awaited him. In a very short while he no longer would have anything to worry about.