Upfall

After a lunch of sausages and beer, Stangl decided to retire to his office for a catnap and to do some paperwork, putting Oberscharfuehrer Gustav Wagner in charge of the incoming transport. Wagner was known about the camp as der Spiess— the equivalent of Sergeant Major in the British or American armies—the man who got things done. Wagner was more than capable of supervising things. Stangl felt that his own time could be best used chumming through the heaps of red tape that running a successful death camp entailed.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon the train blew its warning whistle. Wagner hastily reassembled the platform personnel. Stangl shook himself awake and took a quick glance out the window of his office. The transport appeared to be a relatively small one—not more than 2000 people, and not in any unusual distress. It would be an easy load for Wagner to handle, allowing Stangl to concentrate on the technical aspects of disposing of the "cargo." Stangl preferred to think of the train passengers as loads or cargo. He couldn't yet look the Jews in their faces—but it was becoming easier with every passing day. By dinner the transport would be history and the cargo on its way to burial. Stangl looked forward to another meal of Polish sausages, kraut and beer, and maybe a bit of brandy for a nightcap.

Before turning to his paperwork the Commandant called in Obergefrieter Paulaner, his radio /telephone clerk. The SS corporal, smart in his fitted field gray uniform, snapped sharply to attention.

"Paulaner" said Stangl, briefly looking up at the young man "call the trains unit, and tell them that one of their special trains was late again. Very late."

The SS man saluted and left the room, only to return moments later. "Herr Commandant, the phone lines are out, and the radio, as usual, is not working correctly."

Stangl waved Paulaner off. Such problems were common in far eastern Poland. He'd add his communication problems to his complaints—later.

At the platform Der Spiess eagerly awaited the new transport. Wagner was a big man, with close-cropped blond hair, a square jaw and blue eyes. He was the very image of an SS man. To heighten the effect, Wagner liked to wear his white SS dress uniform blouse when greeting a transport as the officer-in-charge.

Next to Wagner was an old gramophone, booty from some foolish Dutch Jew who lugged the machine all to way from Amsterdam. Set on the turntable, also plunder, was Felix Mendelssohn's “Lieder ohne Worte”. The music was not exactly Wagner's cup of tea, but he liked the irony of playing the Jewish composer as a train was unloaded. It calmed the Jews. The Jews should not know their fate until they smelled the gas. Usually that was exactly the case.

Arrayed with Wagner were nine other SS non commissioned officers, a platoon of twenty Ukrainian guards, and fifty Jewish prisoners, dressed blue coveralls. The Jewish prisoners were charged with unloading the train passengers and baggage. Besides Wagner and his nine men, the only other SS in Sobibor were the Commandant, Paulaner, three men sleeping off night duty in the barracks, and four SS men in Camp 3 who operated the gas chambers. A Ukrainian platoon guarded the perimeter and manned the four watchtowers; another was stationed in Camp 3, while the fourth was also sleeping off a night shift. The German SS were, like Wagner, mostly armed with pistols, but a couple of men carried MP 40 submachine-guns. Two of the Germans held large guard dogs, already straining at their leashes. The Ukrainian rank and file was armed with bolt-action Mauser carbines, while their own NCOs carried MP 40s.

Wagner stood on a small platform abutting one of the sorting sheds, while most of his men and the Jewish prisoners stood in the dirt by the railroad tracks. Sobibor still lacked a proper railroad platform, which made unloading the trains doubly difficult. Small children and older people in particular had difficultly dropping from the railcars to the ground.