Upfall

"What was the destination of this train?" Mueller paused to think.

He wanted desperately to live and also to avoid torture. But something in his pride and training compelled him to test whether these strange soldiers really knew what they claimed. How could they? Sobibor was a state secret. Perhaps he could cooperate and still maintain a shred of his oaths.

"The train is for resettlement of its passengers in the East. That's all I know mein Herr." Mueller sensed his questioner craved respect.

"I'll ask you once again" said Feldhandler, now pointing the muzzle of the Galil against Mueller's knee. The barrel was warm from its recent firing and the growing summer heat. "What destination?"

Mueller hesitated. Feldhandler's finger moved on the trigger. Perchansky grimaced and looked away. The German noted both, and lost his nerve.

"Sobibor!" he blurted, at the same time turning his head so as not to see his kneecap explode.

Feldhandler moved his finger from the trigger, but left the muzzle in place.

"And what is Sobibor?"

"I don't know!" Mueller shouted, partially in truth. Officially he did not know what occurred there. He'd never been inside the place, nor had he been told by his superiors. On the other hand, he did know.

But his tormentor seemed to buy this bit of dissembling.

"Why don't you know?" asked Feldhandler. "Because train guards are not allowed inside the camp" answered Mueller eagerly, believing his ploy had worked. "What happens when you arrive?"

"The place is most secret" continued Mueller. "The station lays a few hundred meters beyond the camp, which is well screened by foliage." Mueller paused, sensing he was gaining the confidence of his captors, while not revealing matters of importance.

"Go on" said Feldhandler. As Mueller spoke, both Shapira and Perchansky moved in closer to hear. Even Mofaz, whose German was spotty, seemed interested.

"At the station we leave the train, along with the Polish crew. A special German crew takes over to bring the train into the camp. After the train is unloaded the train returns to the station. We reboard with the Polish crew and return to our own Kaserne. "

"Does this special crew include additional guards?" asked Feldhandler.

"No" said Mueller truthfully.

"How does the camp know when the train is coming" asked Shapira.

"They have a schedule" said Mueller to his new inquisitor, as if the man were an idiot.

"What if the train is late, say because of problems with the track" pressed Shapira.

Mueller understood what the man was driving at now. He considered dissembling but didn't see how any of this was harmful.

"There is no way to let them know if we are running late—you see there is no radio. I suppose they just wait. When the train is a few hundred meters outside the camp, the engineers blow the whistle."

Feldhandler continued questioning the Gennan about details crew transfer, and of what Mueller had observed about the exterior of the camp. All this Mueller answered truthfully, certain his own role in this business was now plainly innocuous. He was offered water, which he drank gratefully. Mueller allowed himself to relax a little. He'd proven useful, innocent, and cooperative.

"You said a moment ago that your unit is Polizei Battalion 201" said Feldhandler, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, mein Herr” agreed Mueller quickly. "We are a police unit, not real soldiers. Almost civilians, really..."

"You know the village of Biali then" interrupted Feldhandler. "It's not far from here" he smiled sickly, pointing generally to the southeast.

Mueller's blood froze. "Nein, mein Herr".

"I told you I already know the truth. Tell my friends" Feldhandler pointed to the Israeli officers and Perchansky "what Polizei Battalion 201 did at Baili a few months ago—or I'll shoot off your balls." He pressed the assault rifle's muzzle hard into Mueller's groin.

”Bitte" begged Mueller, knowing that telling the truth would likely result in the same fate anyway.

"Leave him be!" said Perchansky in Hebrew. "He's answered your questions."

"Not my last. You'll want hear this Andrea. You've always been a seeker of the truth."

Yatom checked his watch, annoyed by the bickering and Feldhandler's manner, but curious. He interrupted the two scientists by lightly kicking away Feldhandler's rifle, and slipping out his combat knife which he placed on Mueller's neck.

Imperfect in German Yatom said simply "Antwort"

Mueller shook his head lightly, and tears formed in his eyes.

Yatom pressed the knife until it drew blood. Mueller felt the flow and the increasing pressure of the razor—sharp blade.

"I was there, but I refused to participate" he lied. "Some of the men you killed though, one named Popel in particular, was very involved!"

"You're lying" growled Feldhandler.

”Nein! What I say is true. They taunted me, Popel especially" sobbed Mueller convincingly. They said I was a coward for standing by the trucks. But I couldn't do it—kill innocent people like that. They almost took my rank from me!"