The Nazi’s little brother |
The Nazi's little brother may have been the Nazi's half-little brother. People noticed he did not much resemble the Nazi, or any of the other men in his family, though he did resemble his Jewish godfather. In retrospect, observers drew conclusions. Not because they cared about genealogy, but because physical discrepancy offers a tidier explanation for how a man can grow up alongside one of the Reich's most notorious figures yet inherit an entirely different set of reflexes.
Some people believe difference derives from blood, that a person's bent is inscribed as unmistakably as a jawline. Anything else would mean permitting the possibility of moral choice, an idea many find inconvenient.
The little brother grew up inclined toward quiet pursuits--design, film, wandering conversation--with no evident appetite for spectacle or domination. These traits did not make him virtuous; they made him out of place in the fevered decades that shaped him. He observed the uniformed pageantry of the Reich as one observes an approaching storm: neither brave nor afraid, only aware, through a tightening in the chest that made his own helplessness unmistakable.
As his brother rose into the command structure of the regime, the little brother acquired a single, unwanted tool: a surname that opened doors in the Reich like a master key.
He learned to use it. Not dramatically. Improvisationally.
At Skoda Works, he drafted fictive corrective orders. He signed releases beyond his authority. He stepped into offices without introduction and requested prisoners by name, his voice even, procedural. His name supplied the pressure; officials, recognizing its weight, rarely tested the consequences of refusal.
His acts were not an organized resistance, perhaps not even heroism. They were........