#sturmbannführer

[xylaif]

Imagine Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom in the Wolfenstein universe.

[august-diehl]

AUGUST DIEHL as Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom in Inglorious Basterds (2009) | dir. Quentin Tarantino

[architectuul]

Salaspils: A Soviet Memorial To Nazi Victims In Latvia

Eighteen kilometres out of Riga, a series of stone giants stand frozen in a forest clearing to mark a place that some would rather forget. 

The forested approach to the Salaspils Memorial.

The road to the Salaspils Memorial Ensemble stops near the rail tracks, and visitors must walk the final stretch – through forests of pine, and birch that in autumn explodes into canopies of red and gold, the sunlight slicing sideways between trunks that shed their crisp white bark like snakeskin. 

The gallery building measuring 100 metres long by 12.5 metres high.

In the clearing beyond stands the Salaspils Memorial Ensemble.

The forest feels alive, almost supernaturally so, making it all the more abrupt to find the path suddenly barred by a looming concrete crossbeam, 100 metres long and more than 12 metres tall. This concrete barrier is a visitor building, an abstract Brutalist gallery that marks the symbolic threshold between life and death. It stands in the place where once there was a guardhouse ringed in barbed wire, the entrance to a former Nazi labour camp that operated for four years here amidst the picturesque Baltic birch. Through the arch, a clearing opens up between the trees; the camp barracks long gone, to be replaced by angular Soviet forms, towering, blocky figures stood as tall as the trees that surround them.

Above the entrance, a Latvian slogan is spelled out on the concrete flank of the gallery “Beyond these gates the land groans”, a line from a poem, written by a former prisoner of this place. 

Part of the original wall of Camp Kurtenhof.

SS-Sturmbannführer Rudolf Lange, who was appointed in 1941 a commander of both the Nazi Security Service and the Security Police for occupied Latvia, that same year proposed the creation of a detention facility in the region. It was named Camp Kurtenhof, from the German name for the town of Salaspils, and located for convenience just off the main rail track between Latvia’s two largest cities: Riga and Daugavpils. It was designated a Police Prison and Labour Correctional Camp.

A symbolic tally etched into the gallery building counts time inside the prison.

Work on the camp began in late 1941, and it was built largely by the hands of Jewish prisoners deported from occupied Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia. At least a thousand Jews were transported from the Riga Ghetto to join the construction team in January 1942. Offered little in the way of comfort, nutrition or sanitary facilities, they were overworked and many would die to that first harsh Baltic winter.

Symbols of Soviet defiance raised on the grounds of the former camp.

These workers were amongst the only Jews to ever set foot in the Salaspils camp. Unlike the Reich’s concentration camps, which answered to their own central administration in Berlin, the Police Prison Camp at Salaspils was under the direct control of local Security Police Commander Rudolf Lange. Its inmates were political prisoners and Baltic dissidents, expanding in summer 1942 to provide ‘labour correction’ to those caught avoiding work regulations; and from 1943 the camp began taking in Baltic police officers and military personnel convicted in SS courts. The Salaspils camp also operated as an intermediary transit camp for prisoners being transported from Belarus and Russia, to forced labour projects in Germany. A large number of children were imprisoned at the camp too, allegedly in dedicated children’s barracks.

By the later part of 1942 the camp consisted of 15 barracks that between them housed 1,800 prisoners. By summer 1943, there were 30 barracks. Prisoners here were involved in the digging and processing of peat, and according to survivors’ accounts, regardless of its specific ‘Police Prison’ designation, the organisation of work, and treatment of prisoners at Salaspils, was just as brutal as any of the other Nazi camps in the region.

From left to right: Solidarity, The Oath and Red Front.

The official website for the Salaspils Memorial states that, during its years of operation, roughly 23,000 people were imprisoned at the camp. It reports that from May 1942 until September 1944, up to 500 prisoners died of diseases, as many as 150 from exhaustion or brutal punishment regimes, and a further 30 were shot while attempting to escape. The younger prisoners were particularly susceptible to the diseases (such as measles and typhoid fever) that ran rife through the inmate population. It is believed that half the camp’s children died from illness, and after liberation, a mass grave was discovered containing the corpses of 632 children aged 5-9 years old. The Salaspils website suggests that, including the Jewish forced labourers who died during construction, the final death toll of the Salaspils camp stood at more than 3,000 people.

Left: The Unbroken; right: The Mother.

The Salaspils camp was liberated by the Soviets in September 1944. The fences were brought down, the barracks destroyed, but it wasn’t until two decades later that they constructed a grand memorial complex on the site where the camp once stood. A competition was held to select a design for the Salaspils Memorial Ensemble, as it was known, with the winning entry submitted by a team of seven: the architects Gunārs Asaris (who would also create the Monument to the Sailors and Fishermen Lost at Sea, at Liepāja), Oļģerts Ostenbergs, Ivars Strautmanis and Oļegs Zakamennijs, along with the sculptors Levs Bukovskis, Oļegs Skarainis and Jānis Zariņš. The park opened in 1967, and in 1970 its creators would receive the prestigious Lenin Award for their work – in the same ceremony that saw architect Yevgeny Vuchetich awarded for his famous monument at Volgograd: The Motherland Calls.

The opening ceremony was a grand, flower-laden affair, and the Salaspils Memorial Ensemble would go on to be considered one of the most important Soviet memorial sites in the Baltics.

The sculpture called Humiliated.

Today it is not a particularly easy place to visit, and emerging from the trees into the clearing is a sobering moment. The simplicity of these concrete forms invites imagination. Instead of telling you what happened here, this place tries to make you feel it. I found myself reminded of my visit to Auschwitz – a visit I made on a warm summer’s day, birds singing, woodland flowers in bloom. If anything the setting for Salaspils was even more picturesque than that, and I felt a sense of emotional whiplash, after a while, constantly trying to square what I knew about this place with the information my senses were providing me.

The ensemble is built around nine concrete titans (in six installations), who tower over the neat lawns and were said to represent the different types of prisoner kept in the camp. ‘The Unbroken’ lies on his belly, pushing himself up with his last strength. ‘The Mother’ has a look of defiance, standing square to shield the infants that cower by her side. ‘The Humiliated’ kneels, her face partially hidden by an arm raised in a defensive gesture. In the very centre of the lawn, three forms are arranged side-by-side: ‘Solidarity’ shows one prisoner helping another to stand; ‘The Oath’ is a man stood tall stretching his arms into the air; while ‘Red Front’ likely represents a fighter from the paramilitary wing of the German Communist Party – the ‘Rotfrontkämpferbund’ – a group who used the same single-handed fist salute depicted here.

A memorial block where the camp’s gallows once stood.

The Salaspils Memorial features hardly a written word of information but that does not make it a quick place to visit. The monuments that decorate the lawn demand consideration. A single notable script appears on a stone block placed off to the right, between the central figures and the entry gate, marking the location of the former camp gallows. Its inscription in Russian and Latvian reads: “Here humans were executed for being innocent… Here humans were executed for every one of them being a human and loving the Motherland.”

Fragments of the original barrack walls.

At the opposite side of the Road of Death – as the designers named the walking path that circles their concrete giants – a black granite pedestal is designated as the place for laying flowers and memorial wreaths. From somewhere out of sight comes the ticking of a metronome. Intended to suggest life, and the eternal passage of time, the sound is rather like a heartbeat, and lends an uncanny atmosphere to my time amongst the statues.

The old camp buildings may be gone, but here and there, fragments of the outermost walls remain. Some are bare, but others are piled with tributes: plastic angels, Orthodox icons, a selection of sad-looking children’s toys. It feels like an effective memorialisation technique – bulldozing the camp, symbolically destroying its physical legacy, while leaving just enough of its form behind to suggest a historical record of its size and inner geography. Just a year before the Salaspils Memorial opened, the Yugoslav architect Bogdan Bogdanović had accomplished something similar at his Jasenovac Memorial Site, in what is now Croatia: the buildings of the old concentration camp were destroyed, but there, the ground was landscaped into mounds and craters that recorded the location and function of the various different buildings.

Text across the wall of the gallery “Beyond these gates the land groans.”

The only building at Salaspils now is the gallery – entered by an inclined walkway that passes through the length of the imposing concrete arch above the entrance. The space inside is oppressive and claustrophobic, presumably by design. This effect of sensory deprivation allows the visitor time to meditate, perhaps, and process the meaning of the monumental forms outside. When natural light does break through the side walls, it spills in at viewing slots reminiscent of wartime pillboxes. I peer outside, for a panoramic view of the figures on the lawn.

All the while, the sounds of the forest seem amplified as they reverberate though this enclosed space. There is birdsong, the noise of distant dogs barking, and somewhere nearby, where the original tracks cut lines through the trees, the shunting and hissing of cargo trains.

The walkway through the Brutalist gallery building.

The Salaspils Memorial Ensemble, seen from the gallery.

There is something inherently totalitarian about the form of remembrance prescribed by the Salaspils park. The sheer concrete, the lack of information. These twisted human figures tell visitors how they should feel, but the park never provided the tools for a two-way conversation. At Auschwitz visitors are shown piles of shoes, and suitcases, visual triggers designed to encourage an engagement with the numbers. At the National Museum of the Holodomor-Genocide in Kyiv, Ukraine, a similar effect was achieved with grains of corn – arranged in a heaped display where one grain stands for one Ukrainian life lost. Salaspils, in contrast, simply says: these people were punished for loving the Motherland.

Commenting on the Soviet Union’s choice to memorialise Salaspils, Peter Hohenhaus notes how “other, even worse sites of the Holocaust such as Biķernieki received no commemoration at all.” It is perhaps no coincidence though, that the Soviets chose to create such a prestigious memorial over the remains of a camp which had less relation than most to the Jewish Holocaust. (Aside from the construction team, it is reported there were only 12 Jewish prisoners at Salaspils).

Following the war, the Soviet Union severely downplayed the significance of the Holocaust, to present the Soviet citizen, instead, as the chief target of Nazi aggression. Any specific commemoration of the Jewish tragedy was at least discouraged. For example there was a Holocaust memorial built in Minsk, Belarus, named ‘the Pit’; an obelisk on the site where 5,000 prisoners from the nearby Minsk Ghetto were executed by fascists in 1942. Its creators, the stonemason Morduch Sprishen and the poet Haim Maltinsky (who wrote the Yiddish inscription), were both later convicted on charges of Jewish nationalism, and after that, the authorities treated all visitors to the Pit memorial with suspicion. At Babyn Yar meanwhile, a ravine in Kyiv were tens of thousands of Jews were massacred, the victims of the Holocaust are still yet to be recognised with a proper memorial.

The USSR’s post-WWII efforts to ideologically bond its member republics through a shared sense of victimhood, and victory, was felt not least strongly in places like the Baltics – countries who were new Soviet subjects, and uneasy subjects at best. What better place then, for a grand Soviet memorial park, than Salaspils: a police camp that had chiefly housed antifascist Baltic dissidents, and Soviet citizens from Russia and Belarus. It was a place where Latvians and Russians had suffered together, side by side, and of all the dark places left to this region in the wake of Nazi occupation, this was the one whose memorialisation best supported the post-war political narratives of the Soviet Union.

The Salaspils Memorial is recognised as part of the Latvian Culture Canon and in 2017, it was declared a monument of national significance. Despite this recognition however, it doesn’t feel like a place that is cherished, so much as observed. Visitors often report having trouble locating the place, and it hardly seems to be promoted as a tourist destination of note. When compared to videos showing the park’s opening ceremony (crowds of people, neatly trimmed lawns, and the forest pruned back around them), Salaspils today appears somewhat lonely and dishevelled.

Contemporary additions and modifications to the park have seemingly challenged the innate Sovietness of the place. A cemetery for German POWs was added in 2008, adjacent to the main memorial grounds. More recent is the installation of the Salaspils Memorial Exposition. Housed inside the Brutalist gallery building, the collection has been open to visitors since February 2018, and features information and video clips available in Latvian, German, English and Russian.

Tributes left by visitors to the Salaspils Memorial.

Elsewhere around the park, and dotted along the ‘Road of Death,’ new information panels have been installed to give context to the park’s otherwise sparse concrete symbolism. The memorial architecture of the park tells the story of Soviet people who fell victim to the Nazis. It is somewhat jarring then, to read contemporary panels that describe both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union as “occupying regimes.” This is, of course, how the Latvians officially remember that portion of their history: as a violent occupation by a foreign power that would maintain a political and cultural stranglehold over Latvia for the next 45 years. If it seems strange to foreign visitors that a site as significant as this – and so close to the capital – should feel quiet, hidden away, and poorly advertised, then perhaps this is why: from a Latvian perspective, the Salaspils Memorial might very well feel like a monument built by one trespasser to present themselves as the chief victim of the previous one.

The main gallery space inside the visitors’ building. Below: the staircase inside the inclined viewing gallery.

According to the website, the new exhibition “provides visitors with information based on historical facts and the conclusions of the latest scientific studies,” in an effort to “dispel misconceptions about the Camp and the Memorial.”

Those “misconceptions” presumably include certain claims made in the Russian-language media. Many on that side of the border still believe the former Soviet account, which once stated that over 100,000 people had died at Salaspils (compared to the 3,000 cited today by the Latvians). There were stories, too, that the Nazis drained blood from children here to use in transfusions for German soldiers – though these seem to have since been largely debunked. Nevertheless, news outlets like RuBaltic.ru and Ukraina.ru accuse the park’s Latvian management of downplaying the numbers, rewriting history, and more generally of presenting the Nazi presence in Latvia as having been less harmful than that of the Soviets who liberated this camp. They refer to a new information panel at the Salaspils Memorial, which shows respective death tolls for the periods of Nazi and Soviet occupation; the Soviet number being the larger of the two.

While obviously Latvia can and should be having these conversations, I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t slightly antagonistic (at least, to the ethnic Russians who make up a quarter of Latvia’s population), to have them here; to stand on the symbolic graves of dead Soviets while comparing them to the Nazis.

‘The Humiliated’ is partially hidden now, behind a tree not part of the original design for the memorial.

Memorials should serve a simple task, in theory: they remind us of things that we must not forget. They preserve important stories for those who were not there, and in societal terms, they serve to reclaim – to re-consecrate – ground once bloodied by violence. Danger zones become places of (re)education. But the invisible memory wars that continue to be waged across this quiet lawn in Latvia are anything but simple, and they hint at some of the greater cultural conflicts at large today in the post-Soviet Baltic states.

The last thing I saw before I left was another new, post-Soviet addition to the park. In 2004, a former prisoner at Salaspils named Larry Pik funded the creation of a new monument to the Jewish victims of the camp – the prisoners who built it. Accompanied by the Star of David, an inscription in Hebrew, German and Latvian reads: “To honour the dead and as a warning to the living. In memory of the Jews deported from Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia, who from December 1941 to June 1942 died from hunger, cold and inhumanity and have found eternal rest in the Salaspils forest.”

Flowers left in memory of the camp’s victims.

The cover of a 1969 commemorative book about Salaspils.

Left: a newspaper announces the Lenin Award given to the Salaspils design team. Right: ‘The Mother’ under construction.

‘The Unbroken,’ under construction, and then completed.

The gate to the Salaspils Memorial (late 1960s).

Visitors queue to enter (late 1960s).

The memorial plaza at Salaspils (1968).

Left: Salaspils in 1975. Right: Cover of the 1985 Salaspils brochure.

The Salaspils Memorial Ensemble in 1970.

–

by Darmon Richter

[adapted with permission from an article at Ex Utopia]

[carbone14]

SS-Sturmbannführer Otto Skorzeny, SS-Untersturmführer Adrian von Fölkersam, SS-Obersturmführer Walter Girg – Budapest – Hongrie – 16 octobre 1944

Photographe : Faupel

©Bundesarchiv - Bild 101I-680-8283A-30A

[peipurr]

About Walter Model's appearance (via namu.wiki and Verlorene Siege by Erich von Manstein):

"He was short, had a strong and sturdy physique, and his movements were nimble and agile. He had thick black hair and always wore a heavy-duty monocle, but his blue eyes beyond his lenses were free-spirited and bright. We could all see that he had a very good heart." —Horst Großmann

Günther Blumentritt is said to have been surprised by the fact that the 35-year-old Hauptmann Model, whom he met during the interwar period, and the 50-year-old Feldmarschall Model during World War II had the same appearance. His hair did not become thinner or grayer, and his bright blue eyes were the same. —Generalfeldmarschall Walter Model, von Genthin bis vor Moskaus Tore (1962, p.48) by Konrad Leppa.

SS-Sturmbannführer Heinrich Springer, who is 23 years younger than Model, had the impression that when Model smiled sincerely, he 'smiled like a sweet boy'. (ME CRYYYYYYYY)

"Of medium height, with a rather delicate rather than strong build, with a head full of black hair and lively eyes that could sometimes take on a piercing look, he appeared young and fresh and was tough and of great efficiency." —Erich von Manstein

I really love the fact that people often highlight his thick black hair. It gives me personal comfort (because my hair too is just like that and I almost always hate it for being too thick and poofy lol) :(

Happiest heavenly birthday, my favorite Generalfeldmarschall. Ruhe in Frieden🫂

note: I used only Google translate. so, I don't know whether there were any translational errors. If there were, I'm very sorry.

[claratompson]

(English is not my mother tongue, so I tried to do my best, I hope you all will like it.)

Chapter 1

Shoshanna, or rather, Emmanuel Mimieux was standing on the stairs, wiping her letters with a rag on the board of her cinema.

"From the early morning, I do not leave the feeling as if.... Today something not very good will happen... Although I hope it is not so..."

Her head turned to the left on the distinctive noise of the approaching car. The car was the blackest color in the world and glossy as silver. The car itself was feared and terrified in the heart of the girl, because she knew perfectly well who was the owner of such cars - representatives of the highest German nobility and, accordingly, the military police, called the Gestapo.

After stopping, a tall nimble German soldier-chauffeur came out of the driver's seat and opened the car door on the passenger side with a quick and accurate hand movement. Out of it came a much less pleasant representative of the frightening car tall, handsome, dressed in the same black and glossy, like the car itself, a long cloak, apparently, sturmbannführer, and in simplicity - major. His eyes were covered a black cap, which was majestic and equally repulsive. was on his head.

«I tempted the fate» - ironically thought Emmanuel.

Raising his formidable glance at the girl, the major spoke to her: «Emmanuel Mimieux?»

«Yes.» - barely concealing the excitement, she replied.

After briefly saying something to the soldier, the Sturmbannführer crossed his arms behind his back, waiting for the girl to look at him.

The soldier addressed the girl: «Is this your cinema?»

«Yes.» - she answered briefly.

The soldier and the major exchanged a couple of three words, after which the soldier opened the door of the car, as if inviting («forcing») the girl to get into the car.

After taking a deep breath, Emmanuel desperately began to climb down the stairs.

«And who said that intuition fails so when it signals danger?!» - ironically she thought: «Unfortunately, even having an intuition will not help me avoid unwanted contact with these people, who hardly came to ask me about what movies will be shown tonight.»

As for evil, the staircase on which the girl descended was quite «medieval» and unreliable, one of the boards turned out to be brittle and treacherously snapped, breaking into two parts under a miniature foot. Unfortunately, the young cinema owner did not have time to react and fell down, preparing for a painful fall, but to her surprise, she felt no pain in the body from the fall, but only strong men’s hands that clutched her. There was a hum in my ears, and my heart pounded furiously inside. Slowly opening her eyes, she lifted them up, facing her grey and blue eyes, which reflected the boy’s beauty on a stern face with sharp cheekbones. The black cap that had been on the Major’s head not so long ago fell hopelessly to the ground.

Major: "How do you feel?"

The coma stood in the girl’s throat, preventing even a lighter sigh from the absence of injuries.

"What a charming man he is." she thought.

Major: "Mademoiselle, can you hear me?"

"Need at least something to say? Come on, Emmanuel!" she said, but it turned out her body didn’t agree. His eyes immediately darkened and his legs became cotton-brown. Emmanuel was unable to stand and fainted.

Looks like she’ll never know why the Major and his driver came for her anytime soon.

Sturmbannführer carefully picked her up and ordered the soldier to take her to his apartment, ordering him to send a doctor to his house as soon as possible, after which he would personally inform Private Zoller of his inability to bring the girl to the designated restaurant.

An hour later, if not more, Emmanuel had trouble separating her eyes. Looking around, the girl realized that she was completely in a strange apartment in a strange bed, and can barely remember how she got here.

The air slowly filled her lungs, and her mind reluctantly gained clarity.

The weakness in her body was tingling, and her heart was slowly beating inside

With a gentle sit, Emmanuel put her hand over her head, trying to remember at least how the morning began, but her brain stubbornly gave no memories..

[idtha]

!Ich unterstütze den Nationalsozialismus nicht¡

Ich fing an, Fanfixe über gemeinsame Charaktere mit meinem besten Freund zu schreiben.

Ich werde mich freuen, es mit Ihnen zu teilen.

Der Sekretär ist Rudolf, ein Jude, der für die Gestapo arbeitet.

Finn ist ein SS-Sturmbannführer für die jüdische Frage.

[arrow-v-flash-polls]

Detective Quentin Lance wasn't always a supporter of vigilantes but time changes people's views. In the time Detective Lance spent in the Arrowverse we meet a couple alternative versions of the him from alternate timelines, realities and a very dark earth. But which alternative Quentin Lance did you like best?

[omg-lucio]

Tashi Namgyal, el Chogyal (Rey del Dharma) de Sikkim que favorecía a los británicos, se sienta a la mesa con el ornitólogo, espía y SS-Sturmbannführer Ernst Schäfer durante las expediciones alemanas al Tíbet. Junio ​​de 1938 en Gangtok 

[aurevoirmonty]

Adolf Hitler congratulates Generalleutant Theo-Helmut Lieb, ᛋᛋ-Gruppenführer Herbert Otto Gille and decorated ᛋᛋ-Sturmbannführer(at the time) Leon Degrelle for escaping Russian encirclement at Cherkassy. Recorded in 1944.

[wwiigermany]

 Hauptsturmführer Siegfried Brosow 

( Born: December 10 , 1918 in Steinfelde in East Prussia - Died: November 18 , 2008 in Oberkotzau )

Sturmbannführer (Storm Unit Leader/Major), in the Waffen SS during World War II who was awarded the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. This was awarded to recognize extreme battlefield bravery or successful military leadership by Nazi Germany during World War II.

Siegfried Brosow joined the SS-VT(auxiliary) in 1937 and was issued the SS service number SS 353059. He was selected to be an officer and sent to the SS-Junkerschule at Brunswick from 1939 to 1940, while he was at the school he joined the NSDAP in December 1939 being given the party number NSDAP-Nr: 7 145 966. During the Battle of France Untersturmführer (Storm Leader/Second Lieutenatnt) Brosow was awarded the Iron Cross 2nd class for bravery and the Iron Cross 1st class, during the first assault on Moscow and was promoted to Obersturmführer (Senior Storm Leader/First Lieutenant) on 30 January 1942.

He returned to the Das Reich Pionier battalion in January 1943 as the commander of the 1st Company, until he became the commander of the Divisional staff in October 1943.

During the rebuilding of Das Reich in 1944 he became the temporary Pionier Battalion Commander and assumed full command during the Normandy Campaign. He led the Battalion until February 1945 when he was reassigned to the SS-Pionierschule as the commander of training and remained here until captured by the Russians in May 1945.

Upon his release he became a school teacher. Siegfried Brasow died on the 18 November 2008.

[overlookedwwiimedia]

The Counterfeiters (2007)

Basic Story: Imprisoned printers and artists are gathered by the Nazis to have them forge documents and money as a part of Operation Bernhard.

Fan Thoughts: The Counterfeiters was the winner of Best Foreign Language Film at the 2007 Academy Awards, based on the memoir of Adolf Burger, Komando padělatelů ("The Commando of Counterfeiters").  The film follows Salomon “Sally” Sorowitsch (based on the real Salomon Smolianoff) starting after the war when he checks into a hotel in Monte Carlo, paying all in cash.  Flashing back to Berlin in 1936, Sorowitsch is living a wild life as a forger and counterfeiter, until he is caught and imprisoned at a labor camp and later Mauthausen concentration camp.  At Mauthausen he manages to gain some protection by sketching and painting portraits for the guards; the real Salomon Smolianoff studied painting in Russia until 1922 when he had to leave due to his parents’ politics.  Sorowitsch’s skills get him moved to Sachsenhausen concentration camp, where he is met by the policeman who originally arrested him, now Sturmbannführer, Herzog (based on the real Bernhard Krüger) who tells him that he and other prisoners with applicable talents have been brought to work on a Nazi plan to forge fake documents and foreign money to destabilize the Allies economies.  The prisoners involved in the forging are kept separate and in significantly better conditions than the other prisoners, a fact that is periodically brought home by wrenching moments, such as when a request for real documents to work from is filled by a delivery of passports from Auschwitz.  Each forger grapples with their role, feeling guilty for having relatively good conditions when so many are suffering just on the other side of wall. Sorowitsch is practical and does what he can to survive, Burger is haunted by guilt and wants to rise up but the others convince him that revolting will only get them killed.  As the war comes to a close, the Nazis attempt to dismantle all the forging equipment and remove it and ultimately abandon the camp.  The regular prisoners break in and nearly kill the forgers until several reveal their tattoos from Auschwitz.  In a particularly heartbreaking sequence, the regular prisoners judge the forgers' part of the camp, listening to records and feeling the sheets on the beds while the purpose of this special section explained to them.  The film ends with Sorowitsch purposefully gambling all his forged money away. The real Salomon Smolianoff immediately went back to counterfeiting around the world until he finally moved to Brazil and went into the toy-making business.  Adolf Burger wrote his memoir in the 1970s, and when in London for the release, he visited the Bank of England where he was presented with one of his own forged bank notes.  Sorowitsch is played by Karl Markovics, who does an excellent job of showing a complicated character grappling with moral dilemmas.  Adolf Burger is portrayed by August Diehl, convincingly bringing a younger and more fiery counterpart to Markovics’ Sorowitsch.  This is a absorbing film that is well put together and paced, with emotional punches throughout, showing why it was the Academy Award winner.

Warnings: nudity (brief), on-screen beatings an executions, suicide

Available On: Prime Video, Apple TV, YouTube, Google Play, Vudu

[revelstein]

Hajl Herr Braun

Wybryk pana sturmbannführera Brauna nie jest zaskakujący. Nie pierwszy to jego wybryk, choć akurat wczoraj pojechał zdecydowanie po bandzie. Jak dotąd wybryki pana sturmbannführera Brauna w zasadzie nie spotykały się z żadną zdecydowaną reakcją. Pan sturmbannführer Braun, się więc nam rozochocił i jak na sturmbannführera przystało szturmem wziął płonącą na korytarzu menorę. Antysemicki gen…

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"A prisoner being released from the new Nazi concentration camp for political prisoners at Oranienburg on the Haval river. Note the Nazi storm troopers on guard with Swastika insignia of their party banding their arms." - from the Kingston Whig-Standard. May 9, 1933. Page 2. [AL: Oranienburg concentration camp was recognised, financially supported and administratively overseen by various state bodies. Most of the inmates in this camp were interned on the orders of mayors and district administrators, as representatives of local government. The camp commandant, SA Sturmbannführer Werner Schäfer, also used Oranienburg concentration camp for propaganda purposes. Many reports and articles appeared in the German press about this “model” camp. Items about Oranienburg concentration camp were shown in the weekly newsreel report, the ‘Wochenschau’, in some 5,000 cinemas around Germany. Source.]

[dukeofriven]

Is one of the guys in the picture you shared on the sagaftra post Walt Disney? I don’t recognise the other guy at all, please, do you mind sharing who he is?

On the left is Walt Disney. On the right is SS-Sturmbannführer Dr. Wernher Magnus Maximilian Freiherr von Braun—the pride of Huntsville, Alabama.

[claratompson]

Breakfast 2

The major led Emmanuelle to the balcony, where the servants had already set the table for breakfast. There were beautiful cups on the table, the smell of aromatic coffee was in the air, and fresh waffles with butter and honey were served for breakfast. Dieter sat the girl down at the table and sat opposite her. "Please, help yourself. I'm sure you're very hungry. You've never tasted tastier waffles."

The girl smiled broadly at him and began to eat the waffles, which were indeed very tasty, just as Hellstrom had said.

While sipping his coffee, Dieter smiled at the girl and, wanting to find out more about her, began asking questions: "Well, Emmanuelle, tell me a little about yourself."

Emmanuelle: "That's all. I have nothing more to add to our conversation yesterday. As you could understand, I live alone. And I work at the cinema almost every day."

The major asked in surprise: "All alone? Not even a fiancé?"

Emmanuel: "No one."

Dieter: "What about Zoller? I'm almost certain that he wants to continue courting you."

The girl sighed wearily, remembering him: "I'm not sure that I should speak ill of him, especially in your presence."

Dieter: "I can assure you, Emmanuel, that I am not one of those who admire society and Zoller's dubious exploits. So, please, tell it like it is."

Emmanuel: "To be honest, I don't want to have any kind of relationship with Private Zoller. I know that he simply revels in the attention and admiration from everywhere, and the premiere of the film has only turned his head. I would like to avoid his attention."

The major was struck by the honesty of this girl, which made him like her even more.

The girl looked at him with a mixture of fear: "Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?"

Dieter patted her hand, reassuring her: "No, not at all, Emmanuel. You said everything I sometimes think about him."

Emmanuelle smiled weakly at him: "You were right. These waffles are really delicious."

Dieter wiped his lips with a napkin and replied: "I'm glad you liked them."

Emmanuelle realized that it was time to leave: "Thank you for breakfast and for everything you've done for me, Hellstrom. I can't abuse your kindness any longer. It's time for me to go." - with this she rose from the table, planning to leave.

Dieter stood up after her: "Perhaps I could walk you home or to the cinema?"

Emmanuelle: "No, no, no. I want to go for a walk."

The major took her hand and kissed her: "As you wish, mademoiselle."

Dieter came closer to her and looked into her eyes, still holding her hand: "I want you to know, Emmanuelle, that if you need anything, anything, at day or night, I am at your service." Emmanuelle smiled at him shyly: "Thank you, Hellstrom. Goodbye." He kissed her hand again and, opening the door for her, said goodbye.

When Emmanuelle left, the major noticed that the scent of her flower perfume still filled the bedroom where she slept. Dieter admitted to himself that he liked this smell, and he liked Emmanuelle herself much no less. The major did not want to be premature in his feelings and behavior in front of the girl, but seeing her again he turned into a boy.

>>>

Unfortunately, the meeting of the cinema owner in the company of Goebbels and Zoller was inevitable. This time she was warned about this meeting in advance. Sturmbannführer Hellstrom volunteered to take on the responsibility of informing her of this and taking Emmanuelle to the meeting place.

The major took off his cap before entering the cinema. He greeted Emmanuelle, who was walking towards him, with a sincere smile and a kiss on her hand: "Emmanuel, I am glad to see you."

The girl smiled broadly at him: "Likewise, Hellstrom. What do I owe you?"

"Once again, I have been ordered to accompany you to a meeting with Zoller and Goebbels."

Without hiding her tired sigh, the girl asked: "And so, I understand, the meeting is scheduled for today?"

"Yes, but this time you will have time to prepare. It will take place in exactly 2 hours."

Emmanuel: "It's a pity that I cannot avoid this meeting."

Dieter smiled, patting the girl on the shoulder: "Don't worry, Emmanuelle. You have nothing to fear."

"I really hope so."

>>>>

After 1.5 hours, Hellstrom and Emmanuel got into the car and headed to the restaurant. Dieter watched the girl the entire ride, who was excitedly fingering the fabric of her dress. The major allowed himself to sit closer to the girl and take her hand, to which she looked at him with a grateful smile.

"I guarantee you, Emmanuel, that you have nothing to worry about. Goebbels will ask the usual questions about the cinema."

Emmanuel: "I know... I know, it's just..."

Dieter: "It's just what?"

Emmanuel: "If he doesn't like something, will he kill me?"

Dieter wanted to joke, but realizing that she was really afraid, he took her hand tighter and replied: "I won't let that happen, I promise. I'll be there and won't let anyone hurt you."

For the first time in her life, Emmanuel felt safe. She could be calm next to Hellstrom. Even though they barely knew each other, she could tell with certainty that she trusted him.

Emmanuel: "Can I ask you something?"

Dieter: "Of course, anything."

Emmanuel: "Can I hold your hand all evening? It will make me feel better."

The man was flattered and amazed that such a simple gesture as "holding hands" was a comfort to Emmanuelle. He felt that this innocent gesture created a strong bond between them, understandable only to them.

He smiled and replied: "Of course you can. I will hold your hand all evening."

>>>

Entering the restaurant, where Goebbels with the translator Francesca Mondino and, accordingly, Private Zoller, who immediately saw Emmanuelle, jumped up from his seat and went to her.

"Emmanuel, I am so glad that you were finally able to join us. I hope you are feeling much better? Sturmbannführer Hellstrom warned me that you were not feeling well.

"Yes, that's right. I had a terrible headache and Hellstrom kindly walked me home. Now I feel much better."

Frederick: "I'm glad to hear it. I must assure you that Goebbels doesn't particularly like it when things change at the last minute or when something falls through, but I convinced him that your well-being was much more important. ("If you feel bad, how can you be sure that the premiere will go well, right?") and I was able to calm him down and convince him to give your cinema another chance. One could say that you, Emmanuelle, are incredibly lucky."

The girl feigned admiration on her face, but inside she felt annoyed by the situation. As if Frederick was doing her a favor.

"Well, please, let's go to the table," said the private.

Emmanuel looked at Hellstrom, taking his hand, and he gave her a knowing look, squeezing her hand in return.

The evening promised to be difficult.