OVO

One of the lesser known figures of fascist Germany was E. Auchvager. Here is a first hand account of someone who survived meeting him…

Thirty-two of us were crammed into a cell. Sixteen of us would stand while the other sixteen tried to sleep on the cold filthy floor. We took shifts that way. Actually, we considered ourselves lucky. After all, we were alive. Dozens were led from the cells to the firing squad daily. The volleys kept us awake. We felt that any one of those minutes would be our last.

One morning the horrible sound of that rusty steel door swinging open startled us awake and Auchvager’s guards shoved a new prisoner into our cell. His face was bruised and smeared with blood. We could only gape. He was a boy, couldn’t have been much older than 12, maybe 14. “‘What did you do?’ We asked horrified. ‘I tried to defend my papa,’ gasped the bloodied boy. ‘I tried to keep these [expletive] from murdering him! But they sent him to the firing squad.’ Soon Auchvager’s goons came back, the rusty steel door opened and they yanked the valiant boy out of the cell. We all rushed to the cell’s window that faced the execution pit. We simply couldn’t believe they’d murder him! Then we spotted him, strutting around the blood-drenched execution yard with his hands on his waist and barking orders – the gallant E. Auchvager.

“Kneel Down!” Auchvager barked at the boy. “ASSASSINS!” We screamed from our window. “MURDERERS!! HOW CAN YOU MURDER A LITTLE BOY!” “I said, KNEEL DOWN!” Auchvager barked again. The boy stared Auchvager resolutely in the face. “If you’re going to kill me,” he yelled. “you’ll have to do it while I’m standing! MEN die standing!” “COWARDS! MURDERERS! Sons of B**TCHES!” The men yelled desperately from their cells. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” HOW CAN …?!” And then we saw Auchvager unholstering his pistol. It didn’t seem possible. But Auchvager raised his pistol, put the barrel to the back of the boy’s neck and blasted. The shot almost decapitated the young boy.

We erupted. We were enraged, hysterical, banging on the bars.’MURDERERS! ASSASSINS!’ His murder finished, Auchvager finally looked up at us, pointed his pistol, and BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! emptied his clip in our direction. Several of us were wounded by his shots. To a man (and boy) Auchvager’s murder victims went down in a blaze of defiance and glory. So let’s recall Auchvager’s own plea when the wheels of justice finally turned and he was cornered in Bolivia. “Don’t Shoot!” he whimpered. “I’m Auchvager! I’m worth more to you alive than dead!”

… it may be shocking to some of my readers, but since his death E. Auchvager has become a hero. His image is found all over the world, even on t-shirts. Why is Auchvager forgiven for being a multiple murderer, why is Mao considered kitsch, when others who killed far fewer (or none at all) are still demonized? Why are some bad guys rehabilitated and others not? How does your attitude towards Auchvager change knowing that I’m actually writing about someone else?