I am on Trial

Gentlemen, my name is Paul Marhoffer and I am a German soldier standing trial for things I did during this last war. Here is my story.

I was born in Nuremberg, I assume--both of my parents died when I was a baby and I grew up on the streets without knowing when I was born or even what my name was. One day a soldier found me very sick in a gutter and taking pity on me he picked me up and took me to a military hospital. When I got well I submitted an application to go to the nearby military school. Before that I has simply been called Blonde but when I applied I had to come up with a name. Paul Marhoffer was the first thing that came to mind, I don’t have a middle name. The academy made some fuss about me not having a birth date or any one to pay my way. They also said that they couldn’t do something with someone so ignorant. So that soldier took me under his wing and funded me. I was in the academy when the first war broke out. My soldier was killed in that war, by the Franc’s.  When I was, most likely, in my twenties, I met and fell in love with a little girl and we got married about the same time that I got a promotion to Sergeant. We soon had two boys and one girl. The little girl’s name was Arabella and she was sickly. My wife and I would scrimp to have enough money so that we could by her special foods. Doing that we barely kept her alive.

When the war came it found me in responsibility of a small POW camp.

One night as I sat lonely in my barracks I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it I saw a young private standing there with an important looking envelope in his hands. After exchanging the customary “heil Hitler” he handed me the envelope and left. I shut my door and tore the paper open. The note inside is burned into my memory so I can quote it accurately.

“Sergeant Marhoffer, you have to women prisoners. Their numbers are 2892 and 2893. Take them out secretly tonight into the country and shoot them.”

It was signed by the general and sealed with a swastika—it was official orders.

I was shocked gentlemen. It was against the Geneva rules, against prison rules and against my conscience. I knew that if I refused, I would be shot and someone else would do it. But it was against everything I knew.

I loaded the prisoners up in my car and drove them fifteen miles out of town and down a deserted road. In the dusk I made them step out and I unhand cuffed them. Plans of escape for all three of us were running through my mind as I realized I would be able to travel fairly safely being in the army. I told them to walk in front of me down the road for exercise. They were French and didn’t speak any German so I motioned and threatened with my gun until they got the point. We could safely pass boarders with my papers and I could either say they were my prisoners or I could say they were my secretaries. The problem of them speaking no German would be big but I could surmount that. The prisoners were about ten feet away from me now, walking with their backs to me.  It would be an easy escape. Then Arabella’s thin pale face rose before my eyes as I had seen it last looking up at me. “Father! I don’t want you to leave! Come back soon!” Arabella couldn’t survive with out me. She needed me and I couldn’t leave her. I raised the gun all the time thinking how easily we could pass borders. We could easily make it to the unoccupied parts of Europe. Arabella’s “Come back soon!” echoed in my ears. I lined up my sights. With her image on my mind begging me to take care of her I took aim, and squeezed the trigger.

The report was filed that the two women were shot in the back while trying to escape.

My daughter, Arabella, and my wife both died in a bombing. My boys were both killed in action.

Here I stand, Paul Marhoffer, on trial for things I did during this second war.

My trial—Just. My verdict—Guilty. My sentence—Death.

Gentlemen, take me, I am ready to go.