Michael K.

The verdict was guilty, the sentence death.  Months ago, when Michael had heard these words from the military tribunal, he was struck by the tragic absurdity of it all.  He was shattered, of course, but not particularly surprised.  Now, in the stillness of his cell, he thought more of the past than of the future – a future that would end abruptly tomorrow morning with six bullets through his heart.

It was two years ago when he first endured the frigid wretchedness of the eastern front – the mud, ankle deep from the ceaseless trudging of a million boots, cold sweat that froze and stung his skin, the constant rumble of artillery, the ghastly food, the lice.  He’d made captain by the age of twenty-four, merited an Iron Cross Second Class for heroism in battle, and received the gold wound badge with seven trips to field hospitals.  He’d risked his life for his country and for his men countless times, yet had been condemned for mere words.  But four years of service and sacrifice couldn’t mitigate the unforgiving punishment worthy of a traitor…

Michael Kitzelmann died on June 12, 1942 in front of a firing squad, sentenced for “undermining the German Army”.  He’d fought dutifully for his country during the Polish and French campaigns, earned a commission, and served as a company commander on the eastern front. 

Michael K. is a fictional character, inspired by the real-life German officer who lost his life—not in battle—but at the hands of his own Army.  I’ve invented a detail or two that may deviate from historical fact, but hope to have conveyed the essence of Michael Kitzelmann’s story.

The specifics of his court-martial are not known, and even if transcripts exist, I would have a difficult time deciphering them with my poor grasp of the German language.  (I doubt they would have ever been translated into English.)  Thankfully, what survives is his eloquent and heart-rending diary, written in a military prison as he awaited execution.  Though I quote only a small portion, his character and anguish come through in a few lines:

“Now I know the full fury of these Military Laws.  Overnight I was branded as a criminal just for making a few derogatory remarks about the government.  And for that apparently I must lose my life, my honor, my friends and my place in human society…  Haven’t I served my country honorably for four years?  I was at the front for two years, took part in three campaigns and proved my loyalty often enough.  Is this the thanks I get from my country?”

A short but poignant biography of Michael Kitzelmann can be found in Conscience in Revolt: Sixty-Four Stories of Resistance in Germany, 1933-45.  It was compiled by Annedore Leber, widow of dissenting German politician Julius Leber, executed by the Third Reich in 1945 for defying the Nazis.  Published in English in 1994 by Westview Press as part of their series Der Widerstand (the Resistance), it’s well worth reading. 

Accounts of French, Italian and Jewish resistance to the Nazis are familiar to American consumers of popular media.  But stories of Germans who refused to follow Hitler’s sway, who risked and usually forfeited their lives by opposing the Third Reich, have mostly escaped notice.  Michael Kitzelmann’s merits our attention.

Movie Review - Valkyrie

 

I was prepared not to like this movie.  Tom Cruise as Claus von Stauffenberg, one of Germany’s greatest heroes?  Nonetheless, I had to see it.  I’d read about the July Plot while researching my World War II romance novel and had been anxious to see the movie since I’d first heard of its filming.  Would Hollywood finally acknowledge that not all German soldiers of the Third Reich were spellbound by the Führer and mindlessly followed his every command?

Yes, I know, other films have portrayed a Wehrmacht officer with a heart and a mind of his own.  Sebastian Koch’s recent role in Black Book (2006) comes to mind, as well as Marlon Brando’s character in The Young Lions (1958).  But most of us grew up with the image of the merciless, black-booted, steel-helmeted killing machine as the personification of the German soldier.

This project was controversial from the start.  The producers wanted to film on location in Berlin, and fly Nazi flags over buildings still used by the German government.  Displays of the swastika are banned in today’s Germany, and though exceptions are made for historical and educational purposes, the sight is deeply disturbing to citizens of the Federal Republic.  The government was also less than pleased that Mr. Cruise, a Scientologist, would portray their national hero.  Germans are suspicious of radical ideologies (look how much trouble National Socialism got them into!) and most view Scientology as a harmful cult.

Cruise does a passable job of portraying the fearless, stoic protagonist, though a little more Cruise than Stauffenberg comes through at many points.  Cruise is handsome enough for the role; with wavy black hair and a steely gaze (from the one good eye – yes, even an eye patch can look sexy) he creates a reasonable facsimile of the noble German officer who dared defy the Nazis.  Yet I couldn’t help thinking that some unknown German actor could have saved the producers a heck of a lot of money (and saved me from having to watch Cruise for two hours while trying to suppress the memory of his tirade to Matt Lauer).  And they’d even have gotten a German accent in the bargain!  But then I’d forgotten that it’s the name above the title that sells the tickets.  Most Americans have never heard of Stauffenberg or the July Plot, and the story of a German who risked his life for his country’s salvation wouldn’t entice enough moviegoers.

So, in addition to banking on Cruise’s star power, they hawked Valkyrie as an action thriller, filled with speeding cars, machine-gun blasts and lots of explosions, just the sort of thing an American audience loves.  But it works.  The film is visually appealing: bright red Nazi flags wave crisply above a battalion of extras who snap to attention with the precision of a troop of real soldiers.  The soundtrack has a fitting ominous tone and the click of a thousand booted feet marching the streets of Berlin is effectively chilling.  The filmmakers create a great deal of tension and suspense, despite the fact that for anyone who hasn’t just awoken from a sixty-five year coma, the outcome of the plot is a foregone conclusion.  But I must credit the director for succeeding in suspending my disbelief, even if for just a moment.  When propaganda minister Goebbels slips a cyanide capsule into his mouth, fearing imminent arrest by the conspirators, I found myself whispering, “Eat it, you bastard”, though I certainly knew that his end would not come for many more months, when the Soviet Army came knocking on the Bunker door.  In the movie, a timely phone call from his Führer saves Goebbels from taking the fatal bite.  The movie is fast-paced and well executed, and I found myself literally on the edge of my seat, my heart racing, as I urged the resisters on. 

For anyone not familiar with this chapter of World War II history, I strongly recommend seeing Valkyrie.  It’s a fascinating and complex true story, and in the end, the filmmakers give the valiant Stauffenberg and his comrades their due.  Not by making the most masterful, intelligent film possible, but in bringing an entertaining movie to a wide audience, so that people outside Germany will know of the honor and sacrifice of the real-life heroes of July 1944.