This material was designed for the first epilogue of That Line of Darkness: The Gothic from Lenin to bin Laden (Encompass Editions, 2013) but for reasons of space, it did not survive the editing process.
Wanda Póltawska |
Those clean, identically shaved heads, those lifeless, expressionless faces. They walked past with indifference, not looking at us, not speaking, not talking, not reacting to our presence in any way. They are nothing but husks, I thought. And there on that square, a silent prayer was wrenched from me: Oh God, if you still have a care for this world, grant that we may keep our own faces in this dreadful place. Never mind our lives, but do not let our spirits die.
Given their voracious hunger, the malevolence of
the guards, the sexual assaults by some prisoners on others, the futility of
work that included shifting piles of sand that caused swirling winds to choke
their eyes, ears and mouth, it was a struggle not to succumb to being a
husk. Hovering above all these
appalling conditions were the threat of execution that some of the women
welcomed as a release.
What distinguishes Póltawska’s memoir from many
others is that as a political prisoner, she was forced to be a guinea pig for
many useless medical experiments and to test how much pain a person could
endure. Many of her fellow prisoners did not survive the operations. Others,
who participated in these grisly experiments, who were not executed and managed
to survive the ordeal, were crippled for life. The procedures inflicted on
these women consisted of removing their leg bones or injecting them with
bacterial cultures in conditions of abysmal filth that would have invalidated
any possible scientific results. Only when they demonstrated a resistance to
further operations did they feel their spirits returning. As the war neared its
end, the guinea pigs were slated for extermination since their presence could
be incriminating evidence in any post-war trial. Remarkably, other
fellow-prisoners, mainly Russian women, inspired by their courage, saved these
women from that fate. Despite her horrific ordeal, Wanda
Póltawska not only survived but also was extremely fortunate to return home.
In the Nazi chamber of horrors, most of the physicians and nurses who participated in
these butcheries escaped justice. Not surprising given the prewar medical culture in
which health was defined as the physical and mental soundness of the Volk the killing of individuals was
considered a therapeutic imperative. At Nuremberg in 1946 twenty-three physicians went on trial for crimes against humanity and war crimes. Sixteen were found guilty and seven were hanged. Yet many others were able to thrive in postwar Germany
since some physicians who were put on trial received light sentences. Many
eluded justice altogether. The most infamous of them, Josef Mengele, was from
Auschwitz, who epitomized the sadistic-omnipotence syndrome that afflicted so
many physicians in the camps. He dodged justice by using the so-called Rat Line with the assistance of the Mengele clan that facilitated his escape to South
America where he lived undisturbed for
thirty-five years.
If physicians eluded punishment, ordinary German women did not and bore much of the brunt for the war of extermination that Hitler conducted in the East where he had vowed that Leningrad and Moscow would be razed to the ground and prisoners would be shot or allowed to starve. By 1945 as the Soviet Army rampaged West, their lust for revenge after a war in which some twenty million Soviets had died took the form of humiliation, rape and in some instances murder on foreign women. One Russian journalist captured the murderous spirit of the Soviet soldier when he wrote, “If you haven’t killed a German in the course of a day, your day has been wasted.” When the Red Army crossed into Yugoslavia and raped and in some cases murdered women, Stalin received with umbrage the complaints from Yugoslav authorities. Bristling at the interference by Yugoslavian boss, Milovan Djilas, he angrily responded, “Imagine a man who has fought from Stalingrad to Belgrade…over thousands of kilometres of his own devastated land, across the dead bodies of his comrades and dearest ones. How can such a man react normally? And what is so awful in his having fun with a woman after such horrors?” When he heard similar complaints about his troops in Germany, according to Djilas, he reportedly said, “We lecture our soldiers too much. Let them have some fun.” These sentiments legitimatized the brutal and frenzied attacks of the Red Army on German women, an army that treated rape as a natural spoil of war.
It is not surprising that Stalin was unperturbed by the sexual violence of soldiers when he rarely concerned himself with the "trifles" committed by his hatchet man, the head of the NKVD since 1938 and in 1945 put in charge of building an atomic bomb, Lavrenti Beria. Despite his extensive workload, Beria found time to employ subordinates to trawl the streets and corral attractive women so that he could indulge, in historian Simon Montefiore’s words (Stalin:Court of the Red Tsar, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2003), a “Draculean sex-life that combined love, rape and perversity in almost equal measure.” He freely admitted the charge of raping women at his own interrogation on the ridiculously improbable charge of being a British spy one hundred days after Stalin’s death in 1953.
If physicians eluded punishment, ordinary German women did not and bore much of the brunt for the war of extermination that Hitler conducted in the East where he had vowed that Leningrad and Moscow would be razed to the ground and prisoners would be shot or allowed to starve. By 1945 as the Soviet Army rampaged West, their lust for revenge after a war in which some twenty million Soviets had died took the form of humiliation, rape and in some instances murder on foreign women. One Russian journalist captured the murderous spirit of the Soviet soldier when he wrote, “If you haven’t killed a German in the course of a day, your day has been wasted.” When the Red Army crossed into Yugoslavia and raped and in some cases murdered women, Stalin received with umbrage the complaints from Yugoslav authorities. Bristling at the interference by Yugoslavian boss, Milovan Djilas, he angrily responded, “Imagine a man who has fought from Stalingrad to Belgrade…over thousands of kilometres of his own devastated land, across the dead bodies of his comrades and dearest ones. How can such a man react normally? And what is so awful in his having fun with a woman after such horrors?” When he heard similar complaints about his troops in Germany, according to Djilas, he reportedly said, “We lecture our soldiers too much. Let them have some fun.” These sentiments legitimatized the brutal and frenzied attacks of the Red Army on German women, an army that treated rape as a natural spoil of war.
It is not surprising that Stalin was unperturbed by the sexual violence of soldiers when he rarely concerned himself with the "trifles" committed by his hatchet man, the head of the NKVD since 1938 and in 1945 put in charge of building an atomic bomb, Lavrenti Beria. Despite his extensive workload, Beria found time to employ subordinates to trawl the streets and corral attractive women so that he could indulge, in historian Simon Montefiore’s words (Stalin:Court of the Red Tsar, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2003), a “Draculean sex-life that combined love, rape and perversity in almost equal measure.” He freely admitted the charge of raping women at his own interrogation on the ridiculously improbable charge of being a British spy one hundred days after Stalin’s death in 1953.
When the Red Army swarmed the city of Berlin and
inflicted sexual depredations on German women, an anonymous but experienced
journalist, (Anonymous, A Woman in
Berlin: trans., Philip Boehm, introduction by Antony Beevor Virago Press, 2005),
unflinchingly recorded her observations and perceptions of these men and the
women they violated. Written during the closing days of the war and the
beginnings of an uncertain peace, she reveals the difficult choices she and
others made to survive. First published in Germany in 1954, her diary was
treated with disgust, some accusing the author of “besmirching the honour of
German women.” Respecting her wishes by guarding her privacy against the shame
of rape, a new German edition did not appear until 2003 after the death of the
author at ninety.
"Our hope is in you red warrior," that represented the millions of Soviet women behind German lines was a 1943 Soviet propaganda that fed the soldiers' thirst for revenge |
While civilians cope with the terror of allied bombing before the
foreign soldiers arrive, the mass rape of women is at the heart of her diary.
After being violently assaulted three times in one night, she is raped again
the next day by an older man “reeking of brandy and horses” who finishes by
“pulling apart my jaws [and]…drops a gob of gathered spit into my mouth.” In
the interests of self-preservation, she decides that she needs to “find a
single wolf to keep away the pack,” a gambit that is not entirely successful.
What is remarkable about her account is that despite the litany of horror she
and other women brutally experience, the author refuses to regard herself as a
victim but demonstrates resourcefulness and a gritty determination to survive.
After that terrible first night of repeated rape, she says to a group of women
who suffered the same awful fate: “What’s the matter, I’m alive, aren’t I. Life
goes on.” When not warding off soldiers, she scrounges for food, soap and clean
water. As a result of her “very basic” knowledge of Russia as a result of a
trip to Moscow before the war, she mediates between the German civilians and
the Soviet soldiers. She comes to recognize that the actions of the soldiers
are in part motivated by the impulse of revenge for Wehrmacht atrocities
perpetrated on Soviet soil. When she hears about the genocide of the Jews and
“that everything was supposedly recorded in thick ledgers—a scrupulous
accounting of death,” she does not feign ignorance, but caustically comments,
“we really are an orderly nation.” When her fiancé returns home at the end of
the war, she shows him the diary and tells him that she and her neighbours were
raped. His chilling reaction anticipates the disgust that the early readers
felt towards her: “you’ve all turned into a bunch of shameless bitches, every
one of you in the building.” He leaves her but she remains undaunted willing to
embrace “the dark and amazing adventure of life.”
A 2008 film adaptation with the same name as the diary A Woman in Berlin |
Despite evidence of mass rape—one doctor estimated that 100,000 women were raped in Berlin alone and 10,000
died mostly from suicide—the soldiers indulged their violent appetites with
impunity unless they caught a venereal disease, and they were punished. According to historian, Antony Beevor ( Berlin: The Downfall 1945 Viking, 2002), even
today in Russia few surviving veterans are willing to talk about the
subject and those that do are unrepentant. “They lifted their skirts for us and lay on the
bed,” said the Komsomol leader of a tank company. He provocatively and
boastfully added, “2 million of our children were born” in Germany.His bravado contrasts with the shame and humiliation of the women raped who remained silent about their treatment for years.
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