Such a Little Man

Such a little man. We all thought so. Some of the women claimed on his behalf a rough charisma. We men did not agree. Gerhardt said the man looked like a Linz butcher dressed for church. That was before, of course. Before we had to take him seriously. He had luck – that was the devil of it. And a lucky man has to be taken seriously. Of course his good luck was not so lucky for some. I would not have believed the wheelbarrows full of money had I not seen it with my own eyes. In those years after Stresemann Krüger mentioned remuneration to me: he had been my father's factotum. It was not correct, I felt. Perhaps it was a sign of those times. So the little man was lucky: people thought it was time for a change. So what if he had some strange ideas. Perhaps some Jews might suffer, but no-one we knew, surely?

When they came for Elsa, I could do nothing. My party number was quite low, I had joined before many of the Krupps, for example. I did not believe they would take the mistress of … well, someone like me. Besides she was only a quarter Jewish. I did not care, never had. However, it was not expedient. She sent several postcards from Sachsenhausen. I still have them, although I never replied.