8. Dezember 1944
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| Lübben (Spreewald) | 
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8 Dec 1944. 8 Dec. 1944 In Lübben I go to the OKH building complex, ask around for the responsible office and come upon a number of comrades who have probably been ordered here for the same purpose. I learn that they want to select some instructors from our ranks for the Kriegsschule courses. We are called in one by one to the personnel officer. Now it’s my turn. There is a sign on the door of the room: Captain von NN[1]. I enter. A very young captain is sitting at the desk. I estimate him to be 25 years old. I’ve barely greeted him with the usual Nazi salute when he snaps at me: ‘What kind of sloppy greeting is that? We only need soldiers with strict discipline here, do you understand?’ I didn’t understand anything because I was quite taken aback. Admittedly, I didn’t greet him with my arm outstretched straight, I just threw it up casually. Should I first make this young man realise that a front-line officer with many years of combat experience has better qualities for instructing junior officers than snappiness? But that’s pointless with this bellowing busybody. You can’t appeal to sanity where there is none.
After he has calmed down again, he asks me about all sorts of things. He is remarkably interested in my activities in Nazi organisations. I pricked up my ears and say that I was an HJ leader. That was pretty much true. As a young sports teacher, I was a sports advisor in the Jungvolk, and in this position I was entitled to the lowest rank of leader. I also wore the badges, but I had never been officially confirmed in this position.[2] Now the captain is even taking notes. That seemed to be the only thing that was important to him about my suitability as an officer trainer. Everything is immediately clear as daylight to me: this young, callow captain in front of me has emerged from the Hitler Youth, big mouth, snappy and aristocratic at that. With the necessary protection from the party, he has all the prerequisites for this post. Political loyalty is becoming the most important prerequisite for any qualification. Well, good night then, poor Germany. But it has never been any different. Now I also know the reason for his tantrum when I entered: my Hitler salute was so casual that he immediately recognised or at least suspected my anti-Nazi stance. And so I was done for for this prig from the outset.
Then he asks for the letter that my office had given me. I reach into the breast pocket of my coat and pull out the letter. As I hand it over, the squirt suddenly says with a sharp voice and a threatening look: “The letter has been opened!” I think: ‘That’s all I need.’ Although I have a clear conscience, I am still very affected by this embarrassing situation. I try to give him and myself an explanation for this incomprehensible circumstance. Conscious of my innocence, I calmly explain to him: ‘Of course I didn’t open the letter. But the envelope had already been used once and had therefore been sealed with adhesive tape on the second occasion (this was common practice to save money). The only way I can explain it is that the heat under my coat - it was very warm on the train - loosened the adhesive tape.’ What remained inexplicable to me, however, was the fact that I couldn’t find the adhesive tape in my breast pocket either.
The captain remains silent and then dismisses me.
While we are still sitting together in the anteroom awaiting the decision of the personnel department, a major approaches me and explains calmly and not unkindly: “You don’t come into consideration for an instructor post here. But we have just received your posting order for a new formation. You are to be the company commander there.” That was suspiciously quick! I must say, they work well together here! Everything is completely clear to me.
Return journey to Meseritz. The train is overcrowded again. I stand in the compartment, wedged in by my fellow travellers, in a somewhat depressed and morose mood. One small glimmer of light is the good-looking lady sitting directly in front of me.
As I report back to Major Huth in Meseritz, I have barely opened my mouth when he already assaults me with a furious tirade. I am so surprised that I understand very little of the hail of accusations: “... come here and bring my battalion into disrepute...!” (Again this fear that his renown could suffer!) Like a flash of insight, I realise that the squirt from the OKH called here immediately and informed the major before I got back. I find it impertinent to simply label myself the guilty party on the basis of vague grounds for suspicion and reply excitedly that I hadn’t opened the letter and had no reason to. The major counters: “You can’t deny that you were at the clerk’s last night and asked about the contents of the letter because you were obviously interested in it!” So they have already questioned the clerk. In a flash, I realise that all the evidence is against me. A devilish situation! Then I hear the major again: “Go into the next room for questioning!” I go through the door. A captain is already sitting there, and next to him is a Wehrmachthelferin at a typewriter. I give my details and express my suspicions about the self-opening of the letter. It is poor enough. The captain is very understanding, listens to everything calmly and writes up the report in well-balanced, almost benevolent words. The possibility that such an adhesive tape could come off must be obvious to any sensible person! It is also somewhat reckless to use an envelope already used and slit open a second time for an important letter. And finally, I wouldn’t have been so stupid as to simply hand over a letter that I had opened openly, especially as I would have had the option of taping it up again with my own adhesive tape. After all, there are serious circumstances against me, especially the fact that I asked the writer so curiously about the contents of the letter the night before. I don’t know whether this matter could lead to a court martial, but just the thought of the whole affair gives me no peace of mind. What a trick fate can play on people! Within seconds, you find yourself in a desperate situation, completely innocent. Everything speaks against you, you can’t say anything significant to exonerate yourself. If you believe the serious evidence more than an officer’s words, then I’m convicted. And yet I’m completely innocent!
Yes, innocent in this case. But isn’t there still a lot that remains unpunished? The many wickednesses against God and people? The ingratitude against God’s infinite goodness, which he has shown me time and again without merit? And even if I am innocently condemned in this case, I will accept it as penance for the unpunished sins of my life. I am in God’s hands. Whatever may happen - it will not happen without his knowledge and his will.
This incident arrives at the division in Frankfurt/Oder[3] at the same time as my promotion proposal. So the promotion will not materialise for the time being. The NS fanatic in the OKH got me into this mess. Did he really do it? No, he can’t determine my fate. He is only an instrument in God’s hands.
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- ↑ possibly von Platen, on 1 July 1944 as a first lieutenant assistant officer in the Army Personnel Office, Office Group P1/1st (Central) Division, Main Group II, Group IIe, responsible, among other things, for filling officer positions of the political officers, OKW, OKH, Inspector General for Junior Leaders (to whom the Kriegsschulen were subordinate), the staffs from the divisional staff upwards, and the military police commands (NARA T-78 Roll 40 Frame 6002629, transcript in Forum für deutsche Militärgeschichte), i.e. all positions for which the author had been proposed; the Ag P1/1.(Z)Abt was located at Lübben/Spreewald, Jäger barracks (Frame 6002624)
- ↑ The author liked to tell the story of how he appeared at an HJ or Jungvolk sports festival in a sports suit instead of his uniform, which incurred the displeasure of his HJ leader.
- ↑ Division 433