The Metal Man: An Account of a WW2 Nazi Cyborg (21 page)

Then Ackermann’s voice, coming loud and strident –

‘Mayer? I believe you’re still alive. I have approximately fifty Jews here. For every ten seconds that you – and whoever’s with you – don’t surrender to me, I shoot one of these
kikes
in the head.’

‘
Shit
,’ murmured Mayer. He exchanged another look with Weber. Was Ackermann serious?

‘… three… four… five…’ – the SS officer was already counting. His voice was coming from one side of the camp, near the quarry. The fences along this stretch had been all but torn away by the tanks.

‘What do we – ’ began Weber.

‘… ten…’ finished Ackermann. There was then the noise of a single gunshot.

‘One
kike
down, and – Oh, here come my men with some more prisoners,’ called out Ackermann. ‘Looks like we can carry on doing this for quite some time! The Yid I just shot was male, by the way; I’ll try a woman this time.’

‘Ackermann!’ yelled out Mayer – but he didn’t know what else to say. He’d no doubt that the SS officer would kill every single one of the inmates he’d caught, if he – Mayer –didn’t surrender himself.

‘I’ve just been informed that it seems as though there is one other traitor with you, plus the man who built the Metal Man, and perhaps another man – an inmate of this camp,’ said Ackermann then, his voice sounding almost jovial. ‘They also need to surrender, along with you.’

And then began the count –

‘One… two… three…’

At once, there came the awful noise of a woman screaming. Mayer pictured her on her knees (he’d no doubt that all the captured inmates were on their knees, hands behind their heads, guarded by whatever number of Ackermann’s troops were still remaining), the barrel of Ackermann’s pistol pushed against her right or left temple…

‘…six… seven… eight…’

The woman began babbling something in Polish, her voice high-pitched and hysterical.

‘…ten…’

The
crack
of the pistol suddenly silenced the woman’s voice. Weber swore, and Mayer called out suddenly –

‘Ackermann, you – ’

Again, his voice choked. No words could begin to express what he was currently feeling.   

‘Surrender, Mayer, you and the others, and this stops,’ returned Ackermann. ‘The
kikes
can stay in this camp and wait for the Russians, and you and the other traitor can return with my unit into Germany – as prisoners.’

‘Bullshit,’ spat Weber, but his expression was as strained as Mayer had ever seen it. There seemed to be no choice, other than to do as Ackermann was demanding.

It was as though Weber could read Mayer’s thoughts –

‘You really think he’ll do it?’ demanded Weber of the other bearded, exhausted SS soldier. ‘Just leave here with us as his prisoners – let the surviving inmates have a chance of being rescued by the Russians? That being the case, why did he even start shelling this place and tearing it apart in the first place?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Mayer through gritted teeth. ‘I… don’t… know.’

‘A man and a woman so far,’ called out Ackermann. ‘I think another women, next. Ah yes – this one holding the baby. She’ll do fine. Two for the price of one, as it were.’

There was a loud whimpering. Mayer screwed up his eyes and cursed as he pictured the gun being placed against the woman’s head.

‘Two lives this time, Mayer – two shots unless you surrender within the next ten seconds. One… two… three – ’

‘Ackermann – okay!’ yelled Mayer suddenly.

‘What?’ gasped Weber, Schroder and Aron also looking at Mayer in disbelief.

‘Well, what the hell would you have me do?’ demanded Mayer, as he laid down his gun, removed the belt which held his holstered pistol and one remaining grenade, and started walking away from the cover of a half-ruined building. At any moment, he expected to be shot.

Hardly any building had escaped being damaged. A number of the long wooden huts were also on fire. Smoke stung Mayer’s eyes as he walked forwards, realizing that the other three men were now behind him.

He could see Ackermann, now. Ackermann stood with all his prisoners on their knees, maybe fifteen SS troops in a loose ring around them.
Least we got some of the bastards, Brucker
thought Mayer, his brain whirling with shock and exhaustion.

But then he realized this wasn’t good enough. Not remotely. He’d lost – Ackermann had won.

And now…

What, exactly?

‘Okay, Ackermann,’ said Mayer, as he picked his way over the rubble and burnt lengths of wood strewn across the snow-covered ground. ‘I’ve given myself up – all four of us have given ourselves up. So let’s leave these people to the Russians, and get back to Germany.’

As he spoke, Mayer saw that Arnold and the four other Polish peasants were among the captured. Ackermann gave only a thin smile at the approaching SS soldier; then he suddenly took several steps forward, and smashed Mayer around the face with the barrel of his pistol.

‘Shut up, you treacherous bastard,’ spat Ackermann, his narrow, wolf-like eyes blazing. ‘You’re going to be hanging from whatever part of this camp is still standing, very shortly – I’ll string you up myself.

‘But first of all, you can watch each of these
kikes
you so foolishly tried to defend get shot in the back of the head, and thrown over that cliff there.
That’s
what the Russians are going to find, when they get here – a load of exterminated vermin, and a traitor to the Third Reich hanging inside the remains of this camp.’  

‘You’re fucking nuts, Ackermann – you know that?’ growled Weber.

‘No – just loyal to the Fuhrer, unlike you, this bastard’ (he motioned at Mayer) ‘and the Tin Man who’s now lying under several tons of bricks.

‘But don’t you worry’ (Ackermann now addressed Mayer) – you and whoever this man is’ (he indicated Schroder) ‘
will
be coming back to Germany as my prisoners. As for the Yid here – join the others there, on your knees!’

Aron walked over to the large group of prisoners, assisted by kicks coming from several of the SS men stood around. Then, Mayer realized that there were also a few more of Ackermann’s men working their way through the camp, searching for survivors – for those who were trying to hide…

Pathetic figures kept being shoved over towards the kneeling group, which soon numbered over one hundred. But too many of the wretched scarecrows, dressed in the ragged, striped uniforms, were lying sprawled out across the camp. Some shot dead, others with their heads beaten in, or their bodies crushed by the tanks.

We could rush them
thought Mayer desperately. Then he realized such a thought was useless. These inmates had clearly abandoned all hope. A bullet to the head would at least grant them a final release from the perpetual cold, hunger and fear. Hope had briefly existed in the shape of the four renegade German SS soldiers, plus the metallic fighting machine Karl Brucker had become…

But now Brucker was dead, plus Amsel and (Mayer had not the slightest doubt) Bach as well.

So no point even to consider trying to attack the surrounding SS soldiers. They stood a little away from the group, sub machineguns held ready. Any sign of rebellion and the inmates, the five Poles, Schroder, Weber and Mayer himself would just be mown down.

But then – what was the alternative? To just watch as all the Jews were executed, before he was strung up from whatever part of this camp was still left standing…?

‘Up, scum – up!’ barked Ackermann then. Several of the SS soldiers stepped forward, kicking at the inmates until they did as ordered. Mayer, Weber and Schroder also stood.

Mayer tried to exchange a glance with Weber, wondering desperately if that man had any sort of plan which could be somehow communicated via eye-contact, but was then struck hard across the back of the head.

‘Keep your head down, eyes front, traitor,’ growled the soldier behind him. 

Across the wasteland covered in snow, ice and rubble, destruction and dense smoke lying all around, marched the group of over one hundred prisoners. Now being pushed over the torn-down barbed wire fences, heading towards the deep quarry and – for all the Jewish inmates, the men, women, children and one baby – their deaths.

39

He wasn’t dead…

Not yet, anyway. Lying in darkness and a strangely muffled silence – yes. But this wasn’t death. Images kept flashing – that woman, holding the baby… The woman smiling… The warm feeling, coming even now, his metal body smashed and broken…

Names…

What were their
names…?

But the woman – she was no longer smiling. In his
mind’s eye
(he remembered that phrase now) she was staring desperately at him. Imploring him to somehow escape this tomb he was lying in and –

Ackermann, outside… Had he won, he and his men? He would – kill – all the Jews. That was for sure.

Wearily, he concentrated and
felt
himself. Right arm useless. Completely unresponsive. Might as well not even be there. Left arm fine. His left leg, however, was a different matter. He knew that it had sustained major damage from the explosion which had thrown him up in the air. He could, however, still move it. In theory, that was. Not much chance of moving anything right now, buried under all these countless bricks. But nearly every part of his leg proved at least vaguely responsive, right down to his metal foot. Whether he could still walk on this limb, though…

That hardly mattered, anyway. He thought almost angrily to himself – exactly where are you planning to walk
to
, imprisoned and
trapped
here in the darkness?

You are not dead – the woman holding the baby almost mouthed the words at him.

Please, please, escape and – help…

And then he knew – somehow, but also for sure – that Ackermann had taken control of the camp. Maybe all the Jews were already dead.

And his – Brucker’s – men?

Determinedly, he started to move his left hand. The great metallic fingers opening and closing. Working their way with agonizing slowness through the pile of bricks lying on top of him.

The woman –
what was her name? –
nodding, frantically imploring him to make greater efforts. To not succumb to the overwhelming fatigue he was feeling; the desire just to cease his efforts and to close his artificial eyes against the blackness – forever.

Then, he realized that his hand had broken through the great pile of bricks lying on top of him. It was out there – in the light. Then his black forearm; he pushed and shoved away with it on either side, the bricks dislodged and slipping away. Making the hole ever bigger. His movements becoming stronger, faster. Certain now that he was needed
outside
– that everything depended on him escaping this tomb made by a collapsing chimney…   

40

The Jewish inmates (plus the five Polish farm workers) had been made to kneel in a long line, right by the edge of the deep quarry. A few sobbed, but most seemed quiet and resigned to their fate. The woman hugged her baby boy tightly to her chest. He did not cry; he was silent, now.

Behind them stood the remaining soldiers of Ackermann’s unit. They’d withdrawn their pistols, although their sub machineguns continued to dangle from shoulder straps.