Legacy of Sorrows (12 page)

‘Just a ploy to find out Kuller's room number.'

‘Why did you sign it “R”?'

‘I'm pretty sure amongst all this crowd there would be someone he knows whose name begins with “R”, so I don't think it will alert him and put him on his guard.”

He gave the note to the receptionist and said ‘Would you put this in Herr Kuller's key box, please?' The receptionist took it saying, “Certainly, sir.”' As we watched, she turned and placed it in one of the key boxes behind her: number 118.

We then walked to the rear of the reception area and sat down in two large armchairs away from any eavesdroppers. The only other people there were an elderly Italian couple speaking softly to each other. The man was about eighty years old, clean shaven and used a walking stick. He was dressed in a light coloured suit and shoes and smiled our way as we sat down. His wife was of a similar age, well dressed and held her husband's hand as she spoke to him. We sat away from them and continued our conversation.

I spoke first. ‘His key was still there so he isn't in his room yet. I think we should go up and prepare a surprise for him.'

Bruno rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. ‘What if he comes in with friends?'

‘We'll face that if it happens. It's just as likely he'll come in alone.'

‘Let's do it then,' said Italo.

We got up and made for the stairs rather than the lift. Less chance of someone remembering our faces. We went first of all to our room to leave our bags and to retrieve our weapons. We made sure that our guns were loaded before we put them in our trouser waistbands. We walked down the stairs to the first floor and casually strolled along the corridor. Room 118 was about half way along.

Italo studied the lock on the door. ‘Thankfully it's not one of the modern electronic key cards. It's a key lock.' We each put on a pair of thin household gloves to prevent leaving any fingerprints. Italo pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tried a few different ones in the lock before he found the right one. The lock turned with a faint click and we were in.

‘Where did you get the keys from?' I whispered to him in the darkened room.

‘Just one of the perks of being the head waiter of a large hotel,' he answered in a soft voice. ‘These are what we call “master keys”.'

When our eyes became adjusted to the dark, we had a look round the room. Kuller had left a fresh white shirt and a light grey suit hanging up in the built- in wardrobe built in the window wall.

‘That's a stroke of luck; he hasn't changed yet for the reception.' I said. ‘He'll be coming back here to do that soon.'

‘He is on his own as well. No sign of anyone sharing with him,' said Italo.

We decided that I should wait in the bathroom, beside the outside door so that when he came in I would surprise him from behind. Italo would hide behind the window curtains and face him when he came in. We took up our positions and settled in for the wait.

Chapter 10

K
uller
was in the hotel bar having a few drinks with his old comrade, Werner Brenst. He was a tall man with a ramrod straight back and a thick head of grey hair, who came from an old Viennese family. They had served together in Russia and Italy, and had seen many of their old comrade's die in the Russian snows and on the green mountains of Italy. Kuller had first met him on the retreat from Stalingrad, when the Soviet army was pushing the Germans into a costly retreat. They were marching together through the thick snow at the rear of their squad when Werner tripped over something hidden there and fell face first onto the ground. As Kuller bent down to help him up, a Russian tank appeared out of nowhere and opened fire with its cannon and machine gun, killing everyone in their squad except them. Kuller had kept Brenst from getting up. He had often thought if Werner had not tripped that day, they would also have been left lying in the snow covered wasteland that was Russia. They dived into the snow to hide from the tank, and waited until it had moved on. Altogether, some forty men had been killed that day.

They were now busy toasting their good luck with Schnapps, a custom they had developed through the years when they met up at functions like this.

Werner was in a more sombre mood than Kuller had seen him before. As they ordered another drink, Kuller asked what was troubling him. Werner thought for a moment before saying, ‘Do you ever wonder if we always did the right thing, Hans?'

‘What do you mean “the right thing”?'

‘I mean the Jews and the Italian civilians. Back then, it seemed the right thing to do, but today. I don't know.'

Kuller took a sip of his Schnapps before saying, ‘Everything we did was under orders. If it was wrong, then it was the High Command that was wrong, not us.'

Werner gave him a searching look. ‘Do you really believe that, Hans? We were part of an extermination process that killed millions of innocent people. We must take some responsibility for what happened. Back then, we didn't know the bigger picture but now, with all the newsreels and films from the inside of the concentration camps there is no place to hide.' He took a sip of his Schnaps before continuing. ‘I also feel ashamed for what we did in Italy. There was no need to be as cruel and ruthless as we were'.

Kuller looked at his old friend with pity.
The propaganda and lies had gotten to him. The Jews were the problem back then, and they are still the problem today. Their greedy thieving ways are still causing problems in the world. Look at the land they stole from the Arabs to form the illegal state of Israel. They kicked out of their own homes anyone who stood against them. They took land that had belonged to Arabs for over a thousand years and laid some fictitious claim to it. And this fool thinks we were ruthless.

Werner continued, ‘Even the events on Monte Sole. I look round and see Reder who spent thirty-four years of his life paying for that crime. The world condemned our actions then and still does now.'

Kuller looked around the room and wondered how many more of his old comrades were losing their ideals. He looked at Werner and said, ‘I believed back then we were men of vision and courage and that, in the near future, Germany will need men like us again. Our country is divided into East and West, our youth are undisciplined, and Bolshevism is on the move again. Stay strong, Werner, and you will be able to help the fatherland when the time comes again.' Werner wearily nodded his head as if he wasn't too sure of his friend's views. Kuller looked at his watch and said to Werner, ‘Time for a shower and to get changed for tonight. I'll see you later on.' He took Werner's hand and they embraced. He rose to his feet a little unsteadily, smiled at Werner and headed for the reception. Werner sat for a while thinking over their conversation.
Was there an alternative then? Could I have refused the orders? I don't think these re-unions are helping me; I'll probably make this my last one. I don't like reliving the past, it doesn't relate to the present and to who I am now. I am Austrian not German, and this is my home city and the Capital of an Independent country once again.

At the reception desk Kuller looked at the pretty receptionist with hungry eyes ‘My keys please, Fräulein. Number 118.'

The receptionist handed him his room key with the note. She kept her eyes down and made no comment. She was used to men on the lookout for any easy lay and she usually just ignored them, but this one was different. She sensed bad vibes coming from him and she instinctively knew he was trouble.

Kuller opened the note and read it with a puzzled look on his face. Who wants to see me later? The only “R” he could think of was his mistress Renata who was back in Munich. It couldn't be her. I didn't tell her where I was going. Oh, it could be that fool Richard who was quartermaster sergeant with Headquarters Company. That's just the kind of thing he would do, leaving little notes around the place. He was always very meticulous in what he did. He had a little laugh to himself.

He put the note in his pocket and headed for the lift. The door opened, he entered and pressed the button for the first floor. He never paid any attention to the old couple who stopped the lift door from closing and joined him in the lift. When the lift door opened at the first floor, the elderly couple watched him with mild amusement as he staggered his way along the corridor to his room. They also got off on the first floor and walked slowly along the corridor arm in arm.

He put his key in the lock, opened the door to the room, and stepped inside.

I heard him enter and waited until he switched on the light before I stepped out from the bathroom and pressed my gun against his head.

‘Don't move a muscle, Kuller; if you do I'll shoot you down like a dog', I said in Italian.

He froze, and waited. Italo came into view from behind the curtain and made a point of raising his gun so Kuller could see it. I searched Kuller for any weapons he may have on him. When I was satisfied he was clean, I took his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and then pulled the jacket down over his arms to prevent him making an unexpected move. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest. I couldn't believe that I had a gun aimed at Hans Kuller.

Italo told him in German to move over to the bed and to lie down on it. We reasoned that it was unlikely that he could launch an attack on us from a prone position and with his arms behind him. Up until this moment, Kuller had been silent but now he spoke for the first time. ‘Who are you and what do you want?' Italo answered him, ‘We are survivors of the Monte Sole massacre and we want your life.' Just for a moment, a look of fear flickered in his cold blue eyes. ‘What has Monte Sole to do with me?' He asked in Italian.

I crossed the floor so that I stood in front of him and said, ‘I saw you that day, Kuller. I was a witness to your savagery. You killed all of my family and then you raped my mother before you slit her throat and killed her. You have to pay for that.'

Kuller looked at me with hate in his eyes. If he could have reached me, he would have killed me. He spat out at me. ‘We never raped Italian women, it was forbidden by our officers. The only women we raped were the sub-human Jewish shit we sometimes came across. No one gave a toss about them.'

I could feel the rage building up inside of me and I was ready to explode. I raised my gun and put it against his head. ‘My name is Bruno Verdi. If you translate my name to German, it would translate as
grün
, green. A name used by many Jewish families such as mine. After you killed my mother, I saw you dip your bayonet in her blood and write “Jew” on the ground. You killed my uncle, who was the local Rabbi, but first you tied his head back and forced him to watch as you raped his wife. Then you cut her unborn child from her womb and killed him as well.' Kuller's face was white with shock. His cocky aggressive behaviour melted away as he remembered the killings. He lay very still on the bed with only his eyes darting from Italo and back to me in quick succession.

I continued, ‘The women wore a Star of David round their necks which identified them as Jewish, even my baby sister, who you also killed and stuffed like a piece of meat into our kitchen sink wore one.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out a gold chain with a small gold Star of David dangling from it. ‘I took this from my little sister's dead body and now after all these years I have come for her revenge. I want you to look at this chain and understand that it is a Jew who has come to take your life away.'

When I looked over at Italo, he was standing with a look of incredulity on his face at what I had just said.

All this time Kuller was lying very still on the bed. It was as if he realised that he was about to die and was now showing his fear. ‘Is it money you want? I can pay you a tidy sum, just don't kill me!' he whimpered.

I laughed at the sight of the brave Teutonic warrior begging for mercy.

‘How you die depends on you, Kuller. With a bullet through the head with some dignity as if you had committed suicide, or you can die with a bullet through the heart dressed in these. At that I pulled from my inside coat pocket a pair of frilly knickers and a lacy bra I had bought in Italy before I left. ‘If you choose the second method then I promise you that your family and your comrades will see photographs of your corpse wearing them. If you choose the first method then there will be some honour in it for you. All you have to do is leave a note admitting the part you played on Monte Sole and that you can't go on any longer hiding from the atrocities you committed in the war. Make your choice now.'

Italo turned to me and gave a short laugh. ‘When you said you had an idea of a plan, I should have guessed you had it all worked out.'

I smiled at him, ‘I've had this worked out for quite a few years now. If sergeant Kuller won't co-operate with us, then I want you to shoot him in the heart. I promised Maria I wouldn't kill him, and I would like to try to keep that promise. We can dress him up in the bra and panties after he's dead.'

I turned to Kuller, ‘Time's up, sergeant. Make your choice. I wonder what your comrades will think of their big brave SS sergeant wearing a bra and panties. Perhaps a lover's quarrel with a male friend that turned violent?' I watched Kuller go red in the face with anger.

Kuller seemed to quickly regain some of his bravado as he looked at me and said, ‘I am the master of ceremonies at the reception tonight and if I don't turn up they will come looking for me.'