Bombing Hitler (27 page)

This is followed by a description of the prison conditions prescribed for Elser, the main parts of which are probably accurate:

The door was never locked, and there was an SS man stationed in his room—the guard was changed every two hours. Three times a day he [Elser] was allowed to move around outdoors, and he had all kinds of other privileges—he could smoke without restriction and he was provided with excellent food, the same as the food served to the commandant. Every day there were potatoes, meat, sauces, vegetables, stewed fruit. The assassin was given classy treatment—he was handled with kid gloves.

Every line exudes envy—an understandable reaction, given the hellish conditions in the prison cells. As if there had been objections to his remarks, Eggert adds: “I firmly believe, after what I have seen and heard, that I am justified in saying that the attack was staged— because nobody would treat a real assassin in this manner. If this t[hing] hadn't been staged, they would have put him in chains and made short work of him.”

It is not until this point that Eggert describes the conspiratorial path that led him to his discoveries:

When he [Elser] was let out of his cell, I [had to] leave the corridor and go to my cell, but I wasn't locked in. I suspected something and said to myself something's not right here—so I waited until I caught sight of him. But I still didn't quite have a handle on what was going on. But then one day I got hold of a magazine, and guess what I saw in it—a picture of the Munich assassin with his name under it, Georg Elser. At the prison they called him Schorsch. Then it dawned on me. So I started feeling out the SS in the cell block and got confirmation that he was the assassin. The SS was outraged that the assassin would receive such treatment. If the camp directors had known my secret, they would have shot me on the spot.

Given this kind of jealousy, the seemingly preferential treatment granted Elser worked to his disadvantage. From that point on, no political prisoner wanted to talk to Elser—a daunting undertaking in any event since there was at all times a double guard in his cell and another posted outside the door. The magazine Eggert referred to was the November 1939 issue of the SS publication
Das Schwarze Korps.
It was left in the small library at the prison and was much sought after by the prisoners. Anyone looking at the article and the photographs only through the lens of envy failed to notice that in actuality the SS was bitterly attacking Elser. There was no hint that the Nazis were behind any of this.

Amidst the jealousy, it was overlooked that Elser was missing one vital element of survival: the solidarity of the prisoners. He was denied the assistance and the encouragement that prisoners could provide each other. The justification lay in the logic of the political prisoner: Anyone protected by the Nazis had to be their crony. The legend of Elser the Nazi spread like wildfire among the prisoners who set the political tone. Among the many Catholic clerics who were imprisoned in Sachsenhausen and Dachau, however, hardly any sub-scribed to this discriminatory gossip.

Emilio Büge, a prisoner who wrote for the “Political Department,” wrote in his secret notes, which he was able to smuggle out: “Elser, the ‘assassin' at the Munich Bürgerbräukeller (1940), is comfy and happy in a cell here in the bunker, where he has every possible privilege. He has tools and wood available, so he can putter around and build things—not a likely situation for a guy who was out to kill the Führer.”

Martin Niemöller, a special inmate in the camp prison, heard a rumor as early as 1940 in the latrine that Elser was an SS man and that Hitler and Himmler had ordered the attack. At that point, Elser was not even in the prison. Once Elser did arrive, he was greeted with condescension and mistrust. In the camp, truth could no longer be distinguished from fiction—gossip was infectious. The Communist prisoner Rudolf Wunderlich remained in solitary confinement at the prison for ten months and heard nothing about Elser during that time; he was nevertheless certain that Elser was only “the presumed Munich assassin.” As a camp messenger, Wunderlich had access almost everywhere and was therefore an ideal disseminator of such “new information.” And perhaps the camp administrators were content to have the attack in the Bürgerbräukeller ascribed to their organization.

The Communist prisoners played the same game with Herschel Grynszpan, who attempted an assassination in Paris in 1938. As Wunderlich wrote: “Could it be that he [Grynszpan] carried out the attempt on the orders of the Nazis, perhaps so that he could launch something against France?” Proof of this: Grynszpan is said to have had it easy in the camp prison. And in fact he was occasionally allowed to work as a trusty, his head was not shaved and he got to keep his civilian clothes. But privileges like these were also enjoyed by political prisoners who were given functions in the camp.

It is assumed that Elser was moved to the concentration camp at Sachsenhausen at the beginning of 1941. As was usually the case with a prominent special prisoner like this one, Elser was transferred at night in a black Gestapo limousine, which drove through the gate and then went right to the small camp where the prisoner was handed over. On orders from the highest levels, three cells were specially arranged for Elser—cells 11-13 on wing B. Today, the walls of the entire cell block are still standing, but access to them is gained from the front left. To get to the walls of Elser's cells, one must go through wing A (the only wing still standing), then on to the other cell walls, which are outdoors to the front and the right. The basic layout of a cell was 2.5 m. x 3.75 m. (8.2 ft. x 12.3 ft.), or an area of 9.35 sq.m. (100.6 sq.ft.).

With three cells from which the dividing walls had been removed, Elser appeared to be better off than most of the others. But he actually lived in only one cell—the second one contained his workbench and wood, and the third was outfitted with cots for two SS guards who were relieved at twelve-hour intervals. And as in every other cell, the light was kept on all night.

He could be awakened at any time, just like any other prisoner in the cell block. The walls were thin, so the inmates always knew what was going on even if they couldn't see it. Their sense of hearing became so acute that they could distinguish every sound and knew what was going to happen next. In the yard in front of the cell block, prisoners tied to posts were tortured until their long, tormented cries sounded like those of animals. The SS would handcuff a prisoner with his hands behind his back, then, with a pole thrust between his arms, lift him by his hands until his toes barely touched the ground. The screams of pain, which probably diminished only as death approached, penetrated every cell. Anyone who was released alive after an hour or more was nothing but “a quivering heap, a human being broken in body and spirit,” as the Bavarian prisoner Weiss-Rüthel remarked after watching a friend so treated.

In this interior courtyard, a wooden horse was used for beatings. The prisoner was shackled, then beaten on the buttocks with a bullwhip twenty-five times—the prisoner was required to count the lashes himself. Because of the screams, all the inmates felt somehow that they were participants in the process—especially when they were forced to give the cynical shout “Let's head for the festival!”

From the shouts of the SS crew, inmates knew when a prisoner had been placed in a “standing cell,” where he would be kept on bread and water in darkness for at least three days and could neither stand nor sit. When there were executions in the interior courtyard, the prisoners could hear the gunshots. They could recognize the footsteps of prisoners by the sound of their wooden clogs and those of the SS men by the sound of the iron taps on their boots. But if the guards in the cell block wanted to catch prisoners (whose cell doors were kept open) while they were engaging in prohibited activities, they crept up wearing socks. When the prisoners heard the command “Clear out!” they had to get out of the corridors—someone else was to be taken away unseen to some unknown destination.

Plan of the cell block in the concentration camp at Sachsenhausen. Cells 11-13 were occupied by Elser and his guards.

If they heard pop music over the loudspeakers, all the prisoners cringed—they knew people were being shot to death in the factory yard next door.

In 1942, the SS murdered 12,000 Soviet prisoners of war here. The stench from portable crematoria penetrated from the camp all the way to Oranienburg. Around this time, ninety-two Dutch hostages were murdered in the same manner. Amid great hubbub, they had arrived the previous day at the camp prison, where they had been crammed into several cells.

If there was a strong stench of corpses on the clothes of the trusties, everyone knew that they had just come from duty at the crematorium. Death was present at all times. Elser had to assume that he could be taken out at any time and eliminated. In the midst of this death camp, his privileges could not be seen as assurance that he would live. The conditions at this special prison, in which Elser too got to hear all the horrors of the concentration camp, were notorious. As Wunderlich wrote: “Every inmate at Sachsenhausen dreaded the cell block.”

In 1942, the Jehovah's Witness Paul Wauer was a barber in the cell block. Accompanied by an SS man, Elser got a shave from this man every day. Wauer did not know who this diminutive prisoner was until he learned it from a trusty. He too got hold of the SS magazine with Elser's photograph, but he did not let himself be drawn into the political discrimination against Elser. Wauer attested that during this time, Himmler was in Elser's cell once. It must have been 1943, and the conversation lasted about an hour.

In December 1942, the People's Court moved to initiate proceedings against Elser, but the case was never opened. When Elser's father died on August 11, 1942, the Ministry of Justice ordered “the estate of the enemy of the people” seized, by which it meant Georg Elser's share of the inheritance. The Elsers had to pay this amount to Gestapo headquarters.

From 1964-1965, former SS man Walter Usslepp gave a detailed account of Elser's living conditions. This account is credible, unlike the myths that he drew from the rumor mills of the concentration camp. He was a member of Elser's special guard during the period 1942-44. According to Usslep, the furnishings in Elser's cell included a large cupboard and a lectern he had built himself, on which lay his zither. By the bed there was a small nightstand with a receiver for “official” radio stations on it and next to it, in a wooden frame, the picture of a woman he called his bride—it must have been Elsa Härlen. Below the windows, which contained flowerboxes, there was another cupboard.

Georg Elser was a heavy smoker, and he received an allowance of 120 cigarettes a week. Although he was supplied with a good diet and double portions of food, Elser had always been a poor eater. He was known to pass on much of his food to the guards, which contributed to his physical decline. In 1943—14 he weighed at most 115 pounds. On Saturdays, prisoners were allowed to shower and sheets were changed. Elser wore blue metal worker's trousers and sport shirts. He never received mail or visitors. Reveille was at 6:00 a.m., and then the regular prisoners emptied their slop buckets and went to wash up. Afterwards the special prisoners were taken to the washroom one by one. Breakfast was at 7:00 a.m. Elser was never interrogated while Usslepps was on duty.

The SS permitted Elser to construct a zither, which he played with enthusiasm, yet with melancholy. By the end of his term at Sachsenhausen, he had built three or four zithers. He also built a table for pocket billiards, which he liked to play with his guards. He was often irritable and subject to mood swings. One time, to calm him down, the commandant sent him a woman from the brothel barracks, a prisoner from the concentration camp at Ravensbrück—Elser flew into a rage and sent her away.

With time a familiar tone developed between the SS guards and the amiable prisoner. They all used the familiar “du” with him and called him “Schorsch,” until his name simply became “Little Schorsch.” Niemöller, with his elitist obsession for labels, believed he recognized political complicity in this kind of behavior. In fact, Elser remained mistrustful despite all the overtures. Anytime he left the cell to go outdoors or to the toilet, he would turn the place upside down on his return, looking for hidden microphones. Five or six months passed before he revealed to his guard, Walter Usslepp, who was strictly forbidden to talk about the attack, that he was the Munich assassin. This was in mid-1942.

From that point on, Usslepp's recollections take on a Münch-hausen character, blending actual events recalled with rumors from the camp. He claims Elser told him that he had carried out the attack on orders from Hitler and Himmler and that he was a member of the general SS. According to Usslepp, Elser claimed that one day he had received a commission from Reich Security Headquarters to carry out a special mission and that Himmler himself had once come to Königs-bronn regarding this matter. Toward the end of his account, Usslepp becomes almost kooky, reporting that during the final week, Elser had difficulty gaining access to the Bürgerbräukeller because of the Gestapo guards in the place. As a reward for his work, Elser was supposed to receive a house and a state pension. These two elements recur in other rumors about Elser, probably reflecting the hopes of the low-level guards themselves. Finally, in Usslepp's version, Elser decided to go to Switzerland because he mistrusted Hitler. All such claims of Elser's purported involvement with the SS have long since been refuted.