Letting feelings out (Otto)

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

The sun was setting, casting a warm light over the city of Berlin. Birds were flying home to roost in their trees; cars were turning their headlamps on as the darkness began to settle in. A few gun shots were heard but apart from them, the city seemed almost the same as any other day in any other year…

Joe Claude stared up at the dying sun, it was the end of another day working on the patio, and the rays of the sun hit his face, so he turned away as to not get starry visions in his eyes that sometimes happened when a person looked at the sun too long.

The patio was no where near completion. It had taken Joe two weeks to move all the old stones which there were many of them, and then only just today had he started on the new ones, putting them into place. It was back-breaking work and for only one person who wasn’t that strong anyway, it made it extremely slow process.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets of the wore trousers he wore, and wondered around the yard over towards the glass of water and jug that stood just near by the door to Otto’s house. He lowered himself down to the ground carefully and slowly, sipping the water.

He missed his family, his friends. His family would think he was dead, his poor mother, she had pleaded with him to come home fully but he had been too busy and had only got a few days leave.
Now, that had been an interesting adventure. The Army Medical Board had informed his parents that he may look a little different and that he may not be quiet the same. He had arrived at his old home and his mother had looked at him as if he was not her son and had begun to cry, his father had been much stronger and had clasped him on the back, given him a hug and had said “You alright son? Good to see you.” But all that was fake, his mother had got over her crying but during that whole leave she had looked at him oddly and not spoken many words.

Tears began to fall down the young Corporal’s face; he hadn’t shown his emotions much at all. But thinking about his family and about the pile of shit he was in, made the tears come. He drew his legs up to his chest and lent his head on his knees, sobbing quietly into them, no one was around, he could let his feelings out now.

[Otto Wolff]

The evening was approaching fast and the streets of Berlin were getting slowly darker and quieter. Most people had already migrated from work to home, returning to their families, getting ready to enjoy a nice dinner with them. The workdays of Kriminalkommissar Otto Wolff were longer than those of the ordinary worker, so usually the streets had significantly quieted down when he started his journey from work to home. Pulling the dark overcoat on better, Otto slammed the door of the black Mercedes shut and just stood there at the street for a moment, allowing himself a few seconds of quiet reprieve. The sun was setting and on this side of street the last rays of light were already blocked by the buildings. He was feeling exhausted and all the thoughts that had been running inside his head for the past few days had kept him awake at nights. Each morning when he looked into the mirror before going to work, he seemed to appear at least ten years older than he actually was. Running a hand over his face, the Kriminalkommissar turned around and trudged into the vast lobby of the luxurious building.

He was already dreaming of a good shower, a cup of coffee and a decent meal while walking towards the stairs, knowing that such simple things could work wonders on one's mood. Before reaching the stairs, Otto slowed down his pace. For some reason a sudden image of Joe Claude had interrupted his other thoughts. The Kriminalkommissar had been busy enough with his work and looking after Heidi the past few days. He had not really felt like interacting with the Jewish corporal at all, the mere notion of this had made him feel uncomfortable. He had even deliberately avoided glancing down to the courtyard, thinking that seeing the Jew working there would only make his mood sour. He did not really need that on top of all other troubles, so trying to divert his mind to other things had seemed like a viable option. Thinking about it made Otto realize that this was really a weakness of a sort, no matter how reluctant he was to admit it.

With a squint of his dark eyes, Otto stopped before he got to the stairs, standing still for a moment before suddenly taking a new course towards the door that lead out to the courtyard.

Opening the door with a sudden and slightly exaggerated movement, as if to convince himself of the fact that such a weakness was easy to overcome, Otto stepped into the courtyard. He was wearing his plain suit as he would have not arrived home wearing his Gestapo uniform. He didn't want to scare Heidi, who obviously had experienced some quite unpleasant run-ins with the SS. The girl did not need to know where Otto worked, so each day Otto arrived home in his civilian clothes. He was wearing a black, knee-long overcoat over the suit and a pair of black, expensive shoes. Otto's black hair was neatly combed back and his expression was austere and neutral as always.

He stepped out into the courtyard just in time to witness the Jewish man sitting on the ground near the door, his knees drawn close to his body and his head bent down, as if the man was... crying. Arching an eyebrow, Otto did not quite know how to react and for a moment he felt slightly sorry for this huddling wreck of a human. No, a Jew, Otto had to remind himself quickly and he felt guilty for such a lapse in judgement, even if it all had only happened inside his head. Still, Otto was quite an empathetic person and he seemed to unconsciously shift his attitude accordingly, whether he himself noticed it right away or not.

Clearing his throat, Otto's calm and steady voice penetrated the relative quiet of the courtyard. "Claude. What has happened?" Otto asked, his tone quite neutral as if he did not really want to embarrass the American corporal by making too big of a number over witnessing his breakdown.

The Kriminalkommissar stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, glancing towards the sky discreetly to give Claude some time to compose himself again.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

The silence of the courtyard was interrupted by a clearing of someone’s throat and then a voice that was suddenly very close by – ”Claude. What has happened?”

Otto Wolff must be back from work already, well it was nearly dark but usually Joe never saw the Gestapo officer until the following morning. He kept his head bowed for a few seconds, trying to stop the tears falling and then looked up straight ahead not making eye contact.

He bit his lip and used his sleeve on his baggy shirt to wipe away the tears that were still left on his cheeks and around his eyes. Why did Otto have to come now? Surely, Otto thought that Joe was just a Jew, not a person, just a piece of filth like all the others who should be thrown into a camp and gassed to death…

He took a deep breath, getting his mind to focus on what he was about to say and not say anything stupid. ”Nothing is the matter sir, nothing.” he spoke in a monotone as if putting any stress on to any of the vowels was useless.

He looked down at his feet, sighing slightly, feeling the tears well up again around his eyes, sniffing a bit he glanced up at the darkening sky. Life was shit for him. Not as much as it would be if he was in a camp somewhere being laboured hard and then gassed, at least here he had food but the food wasn’t much and he was still as skinny as he always had been whilst working at the camp a few weeks before. His skin was extremely white; no colour was in his cheeks or any other part of his body. His eyes were sunken and emotionless, his scalp had sores on from pervious beatings that were so to be infected if nothing was done about them and the infamous scars shone slightly in the dying light of the sun. A horrible reminder of what the Nazis were about.

”Actually, something has happened, my life…m-my life i-is…is…” his sentence faded into nothing and he looked down at his knees, ”Maybe you should try and be me for a day sir.” he said softly, casting his eyes back up to Otto, anger and slight sadness in them.

[Otto Wolff]

The Jew was wiping tears from his eyes and Otto felt more than just slightly awkward for witnessing such a moment. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Claude told him that nothing was wrong. Asking a slave worker doomed for death if something was wrong, was of course, a ridiculous concept, but what could Otto say? It wasn't his fault that Claude had been captured and not his fault that he had been treated so cruelly by the SS and sent to his death. Otto had in his own way helped the man and still he seemed bitter around him. Maybe it was too much to ask for the man to act thankful towards Otto, he was working in the Gestapo, anyway. And what would he do with the gratitude of a Jew, anyway?

Claude seemed to slump into his desperation again, staring at his knees, all hope lost. He suddenly looked back up at Otto, his expression a mixture of sadness and maybe even anger. ”Maybe you should try and be me for a day sir,” Claude said and Otto scoffed at his remark.

"What an outlandish idea, Claude. True Germans would have not been so easily broken as the Jews. They march to their deaths, not even putting up a fight. Sometimes I wonder what is up with you lot. The ones that migrated from Germany in time are still alive, but I guess some were too foolish to stay behind even when it was made clear they were not wanted here," the Kriminalkommissar remarked and slid a hand in his coat pocket, pulling out a metallic case of fine cigarettes as he continued talking. "You should consider that you are far better off than those others who were in the same line as you that day I found you and brought you here. So things could be worse for you, Claude. Myself, I'd rather direct my energy towards fighting Communists, partisans and other saboteurs, but I do not choose the work I do for the Reich. What the Fatherland demands of me, I shall do to the best of my ability. It is as simple as that."

Otto poked the other cigarette in his mouth, lit it with a silver lighter and glanced at Claude who was still sitting in the ground. Considering something for a few seconds and glancing towards the gate where he knew the guards were, Otto picked up another cigarette and lit it with his own, leaning in to hand the cigarette to Claude, whether he smoked or not. "And just think where you had been now if you just had stayed in the US, hm? I guess it's easy to be wise in hindsight. It would be interesting to visit the United States of America one day, but I guess that's not going to happen," Otto said with a slight frown, smoking his cigarette slowly and staring at the old fountain in the middle of the courtyard. As the sun was setting, the cold was settling in and Otto slid his other hand in his coat pocket for warmth.

"How did you end up fighting in the war, anyway? What kind of work did you do over there? Earlier you said something about cars," Otto glanced at Claude again, his tone of voice quite neutral, although he seemed to address Claude in much the same way he would address almost any other person and that was at least some kind of progress.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

The light was fading and Joe could see Otto’s shadow stretching out in front of him, watching the hand movements. The Gestapo officer spoke smartly, about how the Germans would be able to survive better then the Jews, the same old talk about everyone being better then the Jews.

And then he spoke some sense, Joe indeed was lucky to be here and he knew that of course…but he didn’t want to admit it. Then some cigarettes came out of the officer’s pocket…Joe hadn’t had one of them for about six months it seemed and he was craving slightly for one.

Then, suddenly, a cigarette was waved in front of his nose. He was expecting this to be a tense but when he reached a hand up, slowly and tenderly to take it, the hand holding the cigarette did not move instead stayed there and allowed him to take it. He grabbed hold of the stick between his fore-finger and thumb and took a long drag from the stick…that felt extremely good. He collected the smoke in his mouth and then blew it out, watching as it twirled away.

"And just think where you had been now if you just had stayed in the US, hm? I guess it's easy to be wise in hindsight. It would be interesting to visit the United States of America one day, but I guess that's not going to happen,"

Was this taunting? Making Joe feels worse then he already was? Oh yes, he wanted to be in the United States, he’d give his left arm to be anywhere but here…and he meant that. He stared at the ground as he smoked the cigarette, feeling Otto’s eyes upon him. The cold was indeed settling in and he pulled himself together more.

"How did you end up fighting in the war, anyway? What kind of work did you do over there? Earlier you said something about cars,"

Polite conversation, almost kind conversation was coming from the German man’s lips. Well, that indeed was progress.

”Everyone at home wanted to join up, so I went along to join up…with one of the best units in the dam US army I’d have you know.” he shot Otto a “look” and then went back to staring at the ground. ”I was an engineer back in the late 30’s, lost my job because of this economic crash down but then the job aroused again just before the Japs bombed us so I took it back and then we went to war…I used to drive taxis as well but engineering was my love.” he smiled softly, remembering the days when he had worked with the new and improving cars back in the US, ”I worked with all the new cars, great fun that was.” he nodded, taking another drag.

[Otto Wolff]

The scarred man accepted the cigarette very carefully, as if thinking that Otto was playing some cruel joke on him. Otto could understand his sentiments, he was sure that not many people besides little Heidi and Otto's wife Zelda had shown the Jew much lenience lately. Otto wasn't one to become friends with a Jew, but it didn't mean that he was going to act completely inhumanely towards the man. He had seen many good men turn into monsters because of the things they did, but Otto wanted to remain in control of himself. When he had to resort to violence, it was by choice and not because of some uncontrollable urge to just blindly hurt someone.

When Otto asked Claude about his reasons for joining the army, Claude just said that everyone back home had wanted to join, so he had done so, also. He went on to mention that he had been with one of the "best units" of the US Army and Otto only barely held his tongue. He of course knew that no foreign army could match the German SS and the Wehrmacht, but he thought it was an argument better not started. Claude told him about being an engineer, losing his job and driving a taxi after that, Otto listened to his explanation quietly, only nodding slightly. ”I worked with all the new cars, great fun that was,” Claude finished with a small smile, thinking back to those days.

"I see," Otto said and seemed to contemplate something for the moment, the cigarette burning slowly as he just let it rest between his fingers. "Then you must know a thing or two about cars. I might have some other work for you later, if you have any confidence in working with German cars." There was really no reason for Otto to be interested in any personal details of Joe Claude, yet here he was, asking him questions one might ask from any new acquaintance. It puzzled Otto himself as well, but he guessed that in a situation such as this, it just felt more natural to strike up a normal conversation. There was nobody here to witness what he was talking about with Claude, anyway.

Shifting his weight on his other foot again, Otto let his eyes wander around the courtyard. It would still take a good time to get the yard in a good shape and the work did advance quite slowly with only one worker. Otto had contemplated if he should hire someone else to work in the yard to help Claude, but he wasn't sure if seeing two Jews in the courtyard each morning would make his mood any better. He also felt that if the work took a bit longer, he would have ample time to think of what to do next with the Jew and the girl.

"So, you have any family left back home, then? Wife?" the man asked suddenly, although one would have not of course expected such a question from Otto. It was strange to think that this Jew might have had a family and different life somewhere else when the man now was here at his courtyard, looking thin, beaten and completely broken down.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Otto was right about anyone giving him any lenience at all, Adelheid would always be kind and Zelda…she was just so sweet and magical and kind and lovely that everything about her made Joe’s stomach turn in slight fascination for her.

”I see,” was the only comment that Otto made after Joe had finished speaking. Awaiting an answer, Joe just smoked a bit more on the precious cigarette that was in his hands, this could be his last for a long time…maybe for ever if he didn’t get out of Germany sooner or later.

Then Otto said something very unusual for a man of the Gestapo – ”"Then you must know a thing or two about cars. I might have some other work for you later, if you have any confidence in working with German cars."”

Why was Otto being so nice to him? Joe nodded, ”Yeah, worked with cars nearly my whole life.” he stated, trying to make Otto realize that this Jew was not a complete inhuman thing, this Jew had skills and was not to be thrown on the heap like all the others.

"So, you have any family left back home, then? Wife?"

Okay, this was un-like Otto. He was being too nice now. Frowning slightly, Joe glanced up at him. ”Yeah, my parents are in the US, sisters are working for the war effort and I did have a girl, a Jewish one at that but…I dunno…things changed.” he shrugged, he was going to marry his girlfriend but she had dumped him a few days after he had come back from the first “visit” to Germany, when he had got the scars. Her face was one of terror; he would never be able to get that look out of his head for ever.

”Why you asking me these personal questions?” he suddenly asked. ”Surely, you shouldn’t care for a Jew like me.” he got slowly to his feet, cigarette still in mouth, taking another drag he blew the smoke into the air and lent against the wall of the building, he did look a sight – thin, broken, beaten. He glanced at Otto, the proud man…

[Otto Wolff]

The air around Otto felt much more colder now that the sun had disappeared behind the buildings, painting the sides of only the tallest buildings a bright mixture of orange and red. When Claude said he had worked with cars for all of his life, Otto nodded at him, thinking about the Mercedes with it's annoying brakes. It felt slightly outlandish to even think of trusting the brakes of your car to be maintained by a Jew, but if he intentionally or unintentionally botched the job, he would pay for it with his life and the trusted that the Jew understood this without him mentioning anything about it.

When Otto asked the scarred corporal of his family, the Jew looked at him in strange manner and Otto knew that he was most likely wondering why he was being asked all of these questions so suddenly. Still, Claude mentioned his family and something about a girl, obviously something had gone sour with her. The thought of a Jewish family, a Jewish girlfriend made Otto both amused and slightly irritated. He wasn't an ardent anti-Semite, but the mere thought of a happy Jewish family in US felt strange to him. ”Why you asking me these personal questions? Surely, you shouldn’t care for a Jew like me,” Claude finally asked as he got on his feet, leaning against the wall.

Otto scoffed at him and flashed a small, crooked smile. "Would you feel more comfortable if I slapped you around a few times while we talk? I assure you, I am not like that. I hold no love for the Jews, but I am not like the men from the SS you have come across. Unlike some others, I am in control of myself and my actions." Otto's eyes studied the scars on Claude's face for a moment, obviously not too happy of the fact that someone from the SS could act so uncontrollably. "You have met my wife, you must have noticed that she has a very kind heart, even when it comes to... Oh well. Your kind. She does not like violence and she hates to see suffering, that is just the way she is. If I was the raving lunatic that you seem to think I am, do you think she would be with me?" Otto asked, taking one more drag from the cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stomping on it with his shiny black shoe.

"I'm merely making conversation. It does not mean that I 'care for a Jew' as you so eloquently put it, Claude," Otto said, slipping his other hand in his coat pocket as he looked around the yard, his chin held up high. He had been taught to act like a gentleman and he refused to act by any lower standards than that, even when addressing this Jew. If Claude was completely like an animal or even lower than animal, as they said, how could he have been able to converse with him like this? Maybe it was as they said, that the Jew was a crafty being who in his heart wanted to destroy and poison Germany, wanting to make himself appear as being harmless to the good German people. Or maybe the Germans had been told lies and they were people, just slightly different ones, with their own ways and customs... Otto had given it some thought often, but had not quite reached any decision on the subject. As far as he was concerned, if driving the Jews out of Germany was what the Fatherland asked of him, then he would do his duty and not ask too many questions.

Glancing at Claude again Otto shrugged slightly. "It does not mean that I hate Jews, either. It is a complicated matter... So many things have happened in Germany after the Great War. This is not the first war I've been through." Otto's last sentence seemed to fade away into the shadows of the courtyard as some distant memory appeared in the Gestapo officer's mind when he mentioned the Great War.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

The temperature was dropping every passing second or so. Joe wrapped his arms around him, throwing the stub of the cigarette on to the ground and stamping it out like Otto had done a few seconds before.

"Would you feel more comfortable if I slapped you around a few times while we talk? I assure you, I am not like that. I hold no love for the Jews, but I am not like the men from the SS you have come across. Unlike some others, I am in control of myself and my actions."

Joe shrugged his shoulders. ”Oh I think Strumfelder was in control of himself and his actions, he just liked being mean to people.” he said half sarcastically but with meaning. He glanced at Otto and then back down at the stamped on cigarette, remembering the bodies of the Jews at the camp, they had been stamped all over just like the cigarette that lay smoking slightly on the floor.

Otto’s eyes cast over his scars and Joe felt himself becoming smaller and smaller. But Otto spoke again, now turning his attention to the lovely Zelda - "You have met my wife, you must have noticed that she has a very kind heart, even when it comes to... Oh well. Your kind. She does not like violence and she hates to see suffering, that is just the way she is. If I was the raving lunatic that you seem to think I am, do you think she would be with me?"

She properly was forced to marry an old git like you Joe thought to himself, of course did not say it out loud. He shuffled his feet slightly, awaiting more rude words from Otto about Joe’s “kind.”


"I'm merely making conversation. It does not mean that I 'care for a Jew' as you so eloquently put it, Claude,"

He rolled his eyes slightly, longing for Otto’s warm coat as the man slipped his other hand into the pocket, chin held high. Looking like a proper gentleman which made Joe’s blood boil inside. He coughed slightly, and slid down the wall on to the ground again, huddling close to himself again as the cold set in a bit more and he began to shake slightly.


"It does not mean that I hate Jews, either. It is a complicated matter... So many things have happened in Germany after the Great War. This is not the first war I've been through."

Oh, a tuff subject eh? The Great War wasn’t talked about at all back home, people seemed to forget it and the survivors from it hadn’t talked about their experiences, the people who had been the worst off, the injured with their legs blown off or half their face missing where dying out as the wounds got infected so the sight of the war wasn’t as much as the mental memories that would haunt those who had lived through it.

”I am like you Otto, the only thing that is different is that I believe in something different, not in the war sense but…but…the religion sense. You don’t know my history, my old life…how you can assume that me, personally or any other man or woman or child for that matter caused all the trouble that you say us Jews caused…Surely, if you had to blame someone it would be the bankers…I dunno…a complicated subject and I don’t think that many Nazi officers know what they are fighting or trying to kill off.” he frowned, looking up at the Gestapo officer.

[Otto Wolff]

The words of the former corporal seemed to grow more poisonous and sarcastic, especially when the man mentioned Strumfelder and how he surely had been in control of his actions, only wanting to be "mean" to people. The second time Otto saw obvious disgust and hatred in Claude's eyes was when Otto spoke of his wife. It wasn't the first time he had seen that expression on Claude's face, he remembered seeing it the morning Claude had first arrived to work in the yard and Otto had greeted his wife. Of course, he knew that people doubted the reasons as to why Otto and Zelda were together, usually Otto did not really mind what other people thought. Still, right now the fact that a Jew was looking down at him with contempt made him almost furious and he could not shake the feeling off. He loved his wife dearly and he knew that his love was returned, even though they were an unlikely pair. There was nothing he would have not done for his beloved Zelda.

The scarred man slid down the wall to sit on the ground again and for a moment Otto contemplated on just leaving the man there. It was no use wasting his words or his energy on this stubborn and unthankful being. No matter what kind of lenience and patience he showed towards this man, the only thing he got in return were words filled with poison and contempt. Otto was already going to ask for the guards to take the man away and return inside to calm his nerves in the peace of his own home, when the Jew spoke again. ”I am like you Otto, the only thing that is different is that I believe in something different, not in the war sense but…but…the religion sense. You don’t know my history, my old life…how you can assume that me, personally or any other man or woman or child for that matter caused all the trouble that you say us Jews caused…Surely, if you had to blame someone it would be the bankers…I dunno…a complicated subject and I don’t think that many Nazi officers know what they are fighting or trying to kill off.”


Claude looked up at Otto and the tall Kriminalkommissar just stared at him, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the other man sternly. "You sit there telling me that I cannot possibly know anything about you. Yet you have the nerve to assume that you know what I think about the Jews and you and that I obviously must hate you. I have so far only tried to help both you and the girl in the best way I can. Now I know you have been through quite a lot in the hands of the SS, that much is obvious. I'm not asking for your gratitude, but the least I expect is for you to show me at least some measure of respect while you are under my protection," the words of the broad-shouldered man were sharp and although Otto did his best not to appear angry, it was quite clear that he did not appreciate Claude's behaviour. The dark-haired man was clenching his fingers into a fist inside the pocket of his overcoat and his eyes had grown darker with anger, appearing almost black.

"When it comes to what you said about me not knowing you or other Jews, I have not claimed to do so. In fact, I have not made any claims about Jews at all, yet you assume that I must blame them for everything, just because of what I am. I have news for you Claude. You do not know the first thing about me either. You do not know where I come from, what I have done and you cannot know what I think of the Jews, either." Otto's low and slightly husky voice was filled with uncharacteristic irritation.

"I understand that you must be searching for answers because of what you have seen and what has happened to you. But I do not have them. I'm not the Führer, I'm not the collective mind of the SS, I cannot give you the answers, Claude." Otto's last sentence was spoken with less vigor and anger and the man sighed quietly, already regretting the fact he had let himself get so worked up over the words of this broken man. Managing to look more composed again, Otto arched an eyebrow at Claude. "They say that actions talk louder than words, don't they? You must be truly be blinded by anger if you think of me as your enemy. If you so wish, I can of course indulge you and behave exactly in the way you seem to think I should be behaving. But I doubt it would be very pleasant for you."

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

It wasn’t Joe’s fault that what came out of his mouth were poisonous and sarcastic words. It was just that ever since the war had begun, the only “type” of Nazi related person bar Otto and Zelda had been right old bullies and were completely off their rockers so it was natural that he would form some sort of hatred against them, they had after all hurt him in more ways than one. Having thought about that, Vlakte wasn’t bad, yes he had been a part of the SS and had experimented on human beings, but he hadn’t been the one who had broken Joe’s toes that time or wacked a baton into his back, it had been Strumfelder so Vlakte could be forgiven for some things, but he was out of this mess now, somewhere in England or France with his sweetheart who he was going to marry. Joe wouldn’t have gone to the wedding.

And then he thought about Otto and Zelda, as he watched the man. They were indeed an unlikely pair, he of course did not know the background to their relationship but the way Zelda had seemed quiet forward with him that day in the yard was quiet apparent that something was on her mind that effected her feelings towards Otto, whether that be love, children, work, the idea of the Jews being slaughtered, Joe didn’t know and he wouldn’t pry at all, even though he though that Zelda was extremely pretty and kind and loving.

Otto stared down at him now, titling his head slightly with a stern look. "You sit there telling me that I cannot possibly know anything about you. Yet you have the nerve to assume that you know what I think about the Jews and you and that I obviously must hate you. I have so far only tried to help both you and the girl in the best way I can. Now I know you have been through quite a lot in the hands of the SS, that much is obvious. I'm not asking for your gratitude, but the least I expect is for you to show me at least some measure of respect while you are under my protection,"

The man was getting angry it seemed, his eyes had grown darker, and almost black it seemed in the light of the dying sun. Joe bit his lip, letting the words sink in.

"When it comes to what you said about me not knowing you or other Jews, I have not claimed to do so. In fact, I have not made any claims about Jews at all, yet you assume that I must blame them for everything, just because of what I am. I have news for you Claude. You do not know the first thing about me either. You do not know where I come from, what I have done and you cannot know what I think of the Jews, either."

”What do you think of the Jews then? What do you think of the camps and the gas chambers?” Joe asked quickly. Otto spoke the truth in his next couple of sentences and Joe now saw that he had been rude and that he should behave better if he was to be kept in “working condition” as Otto had so plainly put it.

”I am grateful for what you have done and what you continue to do to me for keeping me alive, and I realize I have been rude and I am sorry for that, but it is just a bit hard to see the difference between a nice Nazi officer and a horrid one after what I have been though, I honestly do thank you for what you are doing. Keeping the girl alive as well as me must be hard enough…” he trailed off.

[Otto Wolff]

It seemed as if Otto's irritated words had managed to have some effect on Joe Claude, as the man's disposition seemed to change. Otto did not like being on the defensive and he was empathetic enough to realize that Claude felt he could now, for the first time, have someone answer his questions of all the things that had happened to him. He wanted to have some answers and know why some people felt it was in their power to act cruel against others, but Otto did not have them.

He did believe that the Germans were an exceptional people and he would do everything that was necessary to protect his Fatherland. Still, after being through a taxing tour of all the biggest concentration camps, including the infamous Auschwitz, he had been plagued by nightmares of the things he had seen in those camps. He had forced himself to think that what he had seen, had only been the slaughtering of animals, but he was smart enough to know it was not that simple. The look in the brown eyes of a small girl, no more than maybe seven or eight years old, being lead into the gas chamber had been forever imprinted in his memory. The child had looked straight at Otto and he knew she would be dead very soon. He had forced himself to look the other way, to appear as if he did not care, but the image had bothered him ever since. These days he had to more often remind himself to not to care than he had used to. He was more than happy to now work in Berlin and attend mostly to other things than those relating to Jews.

”What do you think of the Jews then? What do you think of the camps and the gas chambers?” Claude asked this time and Otto felt less defensive this time, when Claude was not asking why "he" did something and instead was clearly only asking for his opinion.

The tall man shrugged and glanced at the darkening sky. "It does not really matter what I think. Personal opinions do not carry much weight in the Reich and saying the wrong things could get you in trouble, anyway," Otto said in a low voice, glancing at Claude and realizing that he had not really answered his questions.

"But personally I think it could have been avoided. There might have been other ways of doing things. I cannot say I enjoy the camps much." The man was placing his words very carefully, as if thinking that someone might be listening and condemning his words. It might have been understandable, though. Saying anything negative about the policies concerning Jews could get a person into some serious trouble. Maybe there would have been something else Otto would have liked to say about this particular subject, but he seemed to decide otherwise at the last moment.

Otto's lips pressed into a hard line and he cleared his throat, taking a few steps towards the middle of the courtyard and then turning around again to look at Claude as the scarred man spoke again. ”I am grateful for what you have done and what you continue to do to me for keeping me alive, and I realize I have been rude and I am sorry for that, but it is just a bit hard to see the difference between a nice Nazi officer and a horrid one after what I have been though, I honestly do thank you for what you are doing. Keeping the girl alive as well as me must be hard enough…” the Jewish man said and Otto felt some satisfaction in the fact that Claude had stopped speaking so accusingly at him.

The Kriminalkommissar nodded and slipped one hand out of his pocket to rub his chin thoughtfully. "As I said, I understand that you are trying to find answers, at least some reason to why you were treated in the way you were. I would not say there is such a thing as a "nice Nazi officer". When it comes to a Nazi officer and a Jew, the latter is bound to get treated badly most of the times. That is just the way things are. Some do it with vigor and pleasure, this I cannot deny. I have seen many men like that, they simply enjoy violence, they have become blinded by it. Some do it because they have to do it, they have no choice. You must understand that if they show sympathy to a Jew, they risk losing everything they have, maybe even their own lives. What would you do if you found yourself in the same position as them?" Otto's voice was low and husky and he sounded more like his usual self again. His attitude towards Claude seemed to have changed to somewhat more favourable after the man had showed him some respect and appreciation.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

"It does not really matter what I think. Personal opinions do not carry much weight in the Reich and saying the wrong things could get you in trouble, anyway,"

But no one was around to listen to what Otto thought…surely? But then he spoke again, more of an answer this time – "But personally I think it could have been avoided. There might have been other ways of doing things. I cannot say I enjoy the camps much."

At least you didn’t have to spend days and days in them, being a prisoner… he thought, looking down at his hands, remembering the faces of the Jews condemned to the gas chambers as they walked slowly down the steps, fear in some of their eyes, some just admitting their fate.

He stared at his hands for a few seconds, remembering the face of one blonde haired girl who had been about 12 years old, her face lined with sores. She would have been pretty if it wasn’t for how starved she looked. That girl had died, along with a hundred other girls and women who were sentenced because they were “too weak to be of any use.” If this war came to an end, if the Allies won then Joe would personally track down every Nazi officer who had been in the camps and condemn them for crimes against humanity.

Otto walked a few paces away and then turned back and said "As I said, I understand that you are trying to find answers, at least some reason to why you were treated in the way you were. I would not say there is such a thing as a "nice Nazi officer". When it comes to a Nazi officer and a Jew, the former is bound to get treated badly most of the times. That is just the way things are. Some do it with vigor and pleasure, this I cannot deny. I have seen many men like that, they simply enjoy violence, they have become blinded by it. Some do it because they have to do it, they have no choice. You must understand that if they show sympathy to a Jew, they risk losing everything they have, maybe even their own lives. What would you do if you found yourself in the same position as them?"

”I would risk loosing everything and my own life for the sake of treating people, humans how they should be treated, how normal human beings should be treated, I was always brought up to believe that I should do for others the same thing as they would do for me.” he had been taught that lesson as a little boy and had always respected it. If someone, be it a friend, a lover, a family member, a member of the public, whatever, was in trouble or needed help then Joe would help them in any way he could, for they would return his favour.

[Otto Wolff]

The answer that Joe Claude gave to Otto, was much more bolder than the Kriminalkommissar had expected. The tall man raised his eyebrows, looking at Claude incredulously as the man spoke. ”I would risk loosing everything and my own life for the sake of treating people, humans how they should be treated, how normal human beings should be treated, I was always brought up to believe that I should do for others the same thing as they would do for me.”

The Gestapo officer rolled his eyes slightly at the man's answer. "Well, you must be a very noble man then, indeed. You would trade the lives of your family and loved ones for the lives of unknown people? Because you see, if you do something that is out of the norm in the Reich, you will endanger not just yourself but also the people that you care for. It is not quite as simple as one might think," Otto said in his curious accent, his English sounding slightly slurred, relaxed and very non-German.

Right now the Kriminalkommissar seemed much like a man who enjoyed long discussions with other people and who even respected the viewpoints of others, a characteristic which was not very common to a Nazi officer. He might have seemed like a cold and strict man, but here on the courtyard he was more easygoing and accommodating than usually. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the only people out on the courtyard were Otto and Claude, hence allowing the Kriminalkommissar to speak his mind more openly.

"Of course, the common citizen might not easily endanger his or her life, at least so it used to be before the war. Now you can't be so sure, the rules are much more strict. And believe me, I do know how much they have changed. I have been enforcing the law since 1922, first in München and now here in Berlin. Being in the Kriminalpolizei was quite different from the Staatspolizei," Otto said with a slight frown. In Kriminalpolizei he had kept his eye on the criminals and these days he had to keep his eye on everyone. He had found himself often thinking how much more he had enjoyed being in the criminal police. He had caught real, dangerous criminals and not been forced to seek out common Germans who listened to BBC or told a joke about Adolf Hitler.

"But I'm sure none of this is of much interest to you," Otto glanced at Claude again, realizing that he had been almost caught rambling about the good old days. This seemed to happen to him more often these days and times, Germany had changed so much and the war had only emphasized that change. "You have witnessed things from a different viewpoint, I guess it can be hard to see any other ones when the difference between them is so... strong."

The tall man nodded a few times and pulled his hands out of his pockets to glance at his old watch, one that had survived with him through the Great War. "You need some meat on your bones, Claude. I'll see what I can do about it," the man said his voice holding some amount of barely hidden mirth. "And don't ask me if I'm being too nice to a Jew again. Believe me, I'm only looking after my own interests here."

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

"Well, you must be a very noble man then, indeed. You would trade the lives of your family and loved ones for the lives of unknown people? Because you see, if you do something that is out of the norm in the Reich, you will endanger not just yourself but also the people that you care for. It is not quite as simple as one might think,"

Otto did not sound German at all just then, his accent was very “English like” and it made Joe think about this man’s origins, maybe he was just good at speaking the English language, it was a hard one to pick up.

”I wouldn’t want to be in the Reich at all then. Even if I was allowed.” he added, thinking that now, it seemed a hard choice for a member of the German Nazi party to do but they would most likely save their family and put them first instead of the lives of hundreds, thousands of Jewish people who they considered as “scum”.

It was the first time Otto had spoken so freely, he had always seemed to be a man who was very withdrawn, not talking about his feelings or what he thought but here he was, talking freely about some very hard topics.

"Of course, the common citizen might not easily endanger his or her life, at least so it used to be before the war. Now you can't be so sure, the rules are much more strict. And believe me, I do know how much they have changed. I have been enforcing the law since 1922, first in München and now here in Berlin. Being in the Kriminalpolizei was quite different from the Staatspolizei,"

Joe frowned, why was Otto saying this? He was talking about the “good old days” by the sounds of things. He then spoke what Joe thought – no, it wasn’t of much interest to him – and then "You have witnessed things from a different viewpoint, I guess it can be hard to see any other ones when the difference between them is so... strong."

Strong indeed. He and Otto both knew that, they both knew that Joe would never see how the Nazis saw the killing of the Jews, one reason was he was a Jew, the other was he had such a hatred for any Nazi person that seeing things their way was virtually impossible.

"You need some meat on your bones, Claude. I'll see what I can do about it, and don't ask me if I'm being too nice to a Jew again. Believe me, I'm only looking after my own interests here."

It took him that long to realize that Joe was skin and bone and nothing else?

”I won’t, I won’t, and it was just...never mind.” the gate of the courtyard opened and two guards approached. He stood up quickly, wiping his hands down on his trousers.