Oscar’s Example

Selections from Oscar Steinweg's autobiography An Example

...Of course, I was never all that outgoing during high school. I went to a prominent school, and I did my best to maintain my grades, but to say I went out of my way to be exceptional would be incorrect. I merely did what was expected, and what was expected was to be a good German scholar. I like to think that I fulfilled that to my utmost abilities.

I remember distinctly the feeling of the country at the time. It was one of great humiliation and everyone was just waiting for a chance at vengeance on the world. As I sit here today, recalling it all, I cannot exactly tell you, the reader, how it was we justified it. Most would tell you it was because of the resolution after World War I. Some would say the world deserved it, or even needed it. But all of these reasons were laden with emotion rather than logic.

But I digress.

Nearing the end of my last year in school, the army was being built up, despite the resolution, and was a popular if not expected choice for fresh graduates. Colleges were certainly not successful at the time, as everyone was joining the military instead. After I graduated, I enlisted in the military myself, with the full support of my parents as well. At the time, I merely thought that I wanted to make them proud, and that this would be the best way.

Of course, I treated the military much like school. I did what was expected, nothing more. But this is exactly what they wanted, and as such I excelled. I advanced up the ranks and took on greater and greater responsibilities. What used to be murmurings of vengeance was now looking to become a reality.

And that was when I met him.

I can still remember what I was doing when I first saw him. I was visiting my parents during one of my short leaves from duty. My father and mother took me out to the square in Berlin and we witnessed a speech. I wasn't at all really thrilled about the aspects at first. My father mentioned it was going to be about us, Germany, and the future. I was skeptical, yes, apprehensive, yes... But then I actually heard him speak.

He was a simple looking man. Short, thin hair, an odd mustache, he didn't strike me as at all impressive. I listened to him feverishly speak of Germany and the motherland and its true calling. And something connected. It was the strangest thing, but this man spoke of exactly what we felt and wanted. It all made sense and above all, he was the one to orchestrate it...

During my time back, and subsequent times back home, I was able to meet with a girl I knew in high school that I was glad had found work to do in these times. Ellen Seiler, and what a beautiful lady she had become. I had always admired her strong will and sense of righteousness and it was not long before I married her.

When I returned to active duty, I brought back a new ambition and enthusiasm. I strove to be the best officer I could and more importantly to serve the Führer so that he could bring his dreams and ours to a reality.

Still, I spent as much time as I could, while off duty, with Ellen and later our son, Moritz. Unfortunately, as the war progressed, the time I could spare off duty grew less and less. It was hard on me, but I tried not to let it get to me. Unfortunately, I had to live with the thought that Ellen would worry herself sick, losing sleep, fearing for my safety. It was all I could do to keep focused on my position as an officer...

...I was fortunate, though, to have one of my high school friends along with me in the military. Faust Dächer. He had been my closest of acquaintances, and I was glad to continue having him around. He was also just as committed as I was, and we often shared promotions. Though as we progressed, I could see he was more and more inclined to move into the Intelligence Operations area, while I stayed an officer of soldiers and infantry. He had always been a crafty fellow, and it seemed the best choice for him.

I regretted it though. The more he delved into Intelligence, the further he was from my station through most of the time. I saw less and less of him, but at the time the work of managing my duties overshadowed the days and weeks that would go by without ever having seen him...

...I cannot remember when it was that doom was on the horizon. I remember that actions and operations grew more frantic and urgent as the war progressed, and my duties were tenfold, but the idea that Germany would lose had never crossed our minds. We simply thought that the climax was coming and victory would be close at hand. It wasn't until stations were abandoned and the urgency grew higher that I felt something was amiss. I remember questioning my commanding officer about it, but I was told to think nothing of it and to continue doing what I was told. Of course, I accepted it, as it was the sentiments of the Führer. I was not to doubt his genius...

...It was Faust who first came to me, after months in the shadows of the Intelligence organization, with the idea that we would lose and that precautions had to be made to ensure we, as Nazis, would have another chance. He spoke vaguely of an organization known only as Odessa and that he would contact me further about it later. I trusted him, as he was obviously up there in the organization now, and he was my friend...

...I remember the phone call I received that said nothing more that to be in such-and-such place at such time. I was unsure what to do, but he said no more and promptly hung up. No one outside the military had knowledge of my stations' line, so I did not doubt that it was a trap or a trick. I arrived punctually. There was only a single man standing there reading a newspaper. I waited and waited, and sat and sat. After what seemed like a half hour or more, the only man there folded up his paper and began walking off. As he passed by me he dropped a small package in my lap. He said nothing and was gone before I could ask anything more.

The package was a bundle of papers rubber banded together. Back at the station I found phony passports, a new birth certificate, and an assortment of other documents one would need if one wanted to totally change one's identity. Among the documents was a letter. The letterhead contained the title "ODESSA" and it's contents described in detail just what was planned for me.

Since I held a decent rank, the preparations to escort me out of the nation secretly had been well taken care of. I was shocked that they would do something like this. I was supposed to flee instead of fight to the death? It seemed all that I had been taught was a distortion of the truth. If it had not been for the fact that this Odessa ensured that Hitler was behind them, I would have probably tried to get out of it. But Faust came back to me.

"Oscar," he said to me, "you've got to promise me you'll do this. Hell, I know you will... but you have to do it and you have to live with it. We will not let them destroy us all, we will be back to finish what we have started. Live, Oscar. Odessa knows what they are doing."

"But what about Ellen? And my son, Moritz?" I had asked.

"I'm sorry, Oscar. Priority goes for officers of the military. Civilians are not to know of any of this. I'm sorry, but you cannot tell them."

In the end, I was forced to abandon Ellen and Moritz. I can still see my name in the paper, listed as 'Killed In Action'. I am glad I did not have to see Ellen's face when she read it...

...Faust was right, though. Odessa handled everything, down to every detail. My life, after Germany's defeat, was ever in the hands of the mysterious Odessa. And yet, with as much reliance my life had on them now, I still knew little of who they really were. I had met with similar officers who were now escaping, but they knew about as much as I did.

I do not regret going with Odessa. Had I not I would have surely died. But abandoning Germany, the war, my wife, my son, and everything, assuming a new identity in a new country, felt like almost the same thing. I died the day I put myself into Odessa's care...

...Of course, the day came that I would slip up. I had been very careful every step of the way. I had never done anything unexpected. It stemmed from my behavior as a child, no doubt. But I did eventually make a terrible mistake, but one that seemed so right at the time.

It was four years after the war, 1949. I was living in Italy now, under the name of Oscar Weber, a tailor. Odessa had even trained me extensively to be an excellent tailor, too. My mistake came when I recognized Ellen in the street, with a now much older Moritz following her. I had no idea what they were doing here, but something in me made me approach her. Our reunion was joyous but filled with questions I could not answer and many hours of lamenting on our losses. I was so happy to see her and Moritz that I did not care about the possible consequences...

...In November of 1950, I was apprehended. I was sentenced, along with several other recently caught Nazi officers, to a war trial. There I discovered the terrible mistake I had made.

News traveled lightly for awhile that dear Ellen Steinweg had found her husband again. The name Steinweg was found among the list of 'Missing Nazi Officers' and it did not take long before United States agents found me and identified me.

I was convicted for war crimes and other atrocities, for my involvement in the Nazi army and other Nazi activities. I still to this day believe I did the right thing, and what was expected. I gave no names or places of people I knew or of any knowledge of Odessa. I only write of it now because soon it will not matter. And I doubt they will ever find Odessa, since as I have said, I was never told much of anything about them.

I must admit, it is generous that they would allow me to write this biography of myself before I die...

...I still sometimes wonder whatever happened to everyone I knew. People from school, from military training, from my station, men I commanded, Faust, Ellen, Moritz, my parents. I suppose, though, that I shall never know. But, I wonder if Odessa does...

Oscar Steinweg

-- ( Originally written sometime in 2002 I believe. This was for my German class. ) --