Upfall

Yatom and Nir now took the lead scout position in the colmnn with the remaining Kubelwagon, while the other Wagon smoldered off the side of the road. It was well past midnight by the time the sayeret moved out, shaken and dismayed by the rough encounter with real German infantry. Yatom led them further to the south and east, trying to pull away from the encroaching enemy in the few remaining hours of darkness.

Chapter 29

Heydnch felt quite comfortable behind Globocnik's desk despite the fact that in front of him lay disturbing reports from the field concerning the situation in eastern Poland. Most recently two roadblocks in the Lubin district had been overrun, presumably by Treblinka's raiders. A single survivor from the second roadblock, a private from the 2123‘ Infantry Division, was on the way to Lubin now for debriefing. Pushing the reports aside, Heydrich fixed his eyes curiously on Sergeant Mueller, like a cat inspecting a pigeon. The policeman looked like a man roused from the dead, his uniform filthy and tattered, his face lined and sallow. The sergeant was making an effort to stand at attention, but his body was comically tilted to one side. Heydrich wanted to smirk, but kept his face impassive.

"You are Feldwebel Mueller, from the Sobibor train guard?"

"UnterfeldwebeI Mueller, Mein Herr-. Unless..."

"No Mueller" said Heydrich with a smile. "You have not been promoted not yet. Your insignia are mangled."

"Es tut mir leid Mein Herr. I have come from the battlefield."

"You and Obersturmfuhrer Wirth both" said Heydrich, gesturing at one of the SS officers across the room. "You survived an encounter with the enemy bandits ravaging the countryside. How did you manage that?"

"Sir, I was captured by them, but escaped."

"Yes, so you claim. Tell me about them."

"With all due respect sir, they are not really bandits—not most of them anyway. They are enemy commando soldiers..." Mueller's voice trailed off. He was unsure of himself before such an eminence as Heydrich.

"Soldiers from where?" asked Heydrich calmly, but with evident interest.

"I don't know sir. I am not a well educated man. I'm just a policeman. I'm not very good with languages. I did not recognize theirs."

"Were they English? Or Russian?" asked another SS officer, standing off to Heydrich's side.

"I don't speak those languages sir, but I think not" said Mueller slowly. "I...I brought a weapon I captured off one of them during my escape. An SS officer took it from me a moment ago." He pointed over at Globocnik's aide who stood in a far corner of the room. The officer ignored him. "Perhaps it is some evidence of who these men are?"

"This?" said the SS officer at Heydrich's side, holding out the submachinegun.

"Yes sir, that's it!" said Mueller as if discovering an old friend. "I believe they called it an Utzi." That brought a laugh from the assembled officers.

"An Utzi?" said the SS officer. "Are you sure?"

"No sir. It's just what I heard."

"Do you know what this writing is on the receiver?" said the officer, pointing to the center of the weapon. Mueller shook his head.

"It's Hebrew." This brought a gasp of disbelief from the assembled officers. Heydrich looked over at the SS man quizzically.

"Are you sure Obersturmbannfuhrer Eichman?" demanded Heydrich.

"Yes sir" replied Eichman diffidently yet with assurance. "As you know I've studied the language. It's Hebrew and Sergeant Mueller is correct. The weapon seems to be called an Uzi. The bullets also have Hebrew lettering on them."

"Bring an ordnance officer in here right away!" barked Globocnik. Heydrich's aide ran out the door.

"Mueller" asked Eichman gently "surely you are somewhat familiar with Yiddish?"

"Of course sir. The Jews jabber it all the time."

"Did these soldiers speak something like Yiddish?"

"No sir. Yiddish sounds like bad German. Some of them spoke German—some better than others. Sometimes they spoke a bit of Yiddish too. But their own language—that wasn't Yiddish."

"But some of the words" persisted Eichman "did they sound like Yiddish words? Think hard sergeant."

Mueller did as he was told, afraid of what would happen if he didn't. He also considered that maybe he should just tell this Eichman what he clearly wanted to hear.

"Well sir" said Mueller, trying to sound thoughtful. "Maybe a few words sounded a little like Yiddish. It was a very guttural language like Yiddish, and those boys did gesture a lot—for soldiers anyway."

"Satisfied Eichman?" asked Heydrich. Eichman nodded. Heydrich looked again at Mueller, his blue eyes sparkling. "Can you tell us anything else about these men—anything significant. "

Mueller ran the past days through his mind. He wanted to help out the SS officers, more for his own protection than anything else. His story was true after all. He'd lived with the enemy. Certainly there is something more to say. If he were only rested and had some food in his belly. He hated the tall thin one called Shapira, especially, and the one who beat him, but.