When I was drafted as an officer
into the German Army, I was, by definition,
a Nazi. Yet I secretly kept my faith.
When I sneaked off to Mass on Sundays,
very much verboten, I would confess
to things I had done as an officer –
building a prison camp, for example,
though I only learned years later
its ultimate and sinister use.
The deeper we got into the war,
the more I regretted what we were doing
to our fellow men.

Partly to vindicate myself, I harbored
and aided some Poles and Jews,
helped them slip through the cracks.
Not many, but enough to ease my conscience.
One man stood out – a pianist named Szpilman.
I found him hiding in an attic of the abandoned building
I picked for my new headquarters.
I asked him to play. The piano was damaged
and out of tune, but he turned it into
a concert grand at the Berlin Philharmonic.
When he finished Chopin's "Ballade in G Minor",
I was nearly in tears.

I asked him to show me where he was hiding.
Guilelessly he led me to his shelter under the eaves.
Do you have food? I asked. He showed me
a large can of peaches he could not open.
I told him, Stay here, and I’ll bring you something.
Weak and starving, he had no other choice.
The next day I tossed him a loaf of bread,
some jam, and a can opener.
He must have thought it was a banquet.
Later, when the Russians were advancing on us,
I brought him more parcels of food.
He was shivering, so I gave him the coat
off my back. I don’t know how to thank you,
he said. Thank God, not me, I replied.
Stay here a little longer. The Russians
will liberate you in a few weeks.
That was the last I saw of him.

The Russians wounded me and threw me
in a prison camp. When a Polish musician,
once again a free man, walked past my pen,
I asked if he knew Szpilman and if he
could ask him to help me. But no help came.
I heard that Szpilman went on playing,
renewing his fame in his homeland.
As for me, the Russians think I am a war criminal,
and torture me almost daily.
I told Szpilman to thank God,
yet God played the most ironic joke on me.
I guess my good deeds weren’t enough
for redemption. Here I sit, dying in a prison
not unlike the one I helped to build.

09/17/2013

Author's Note: [Inspired by the film The Pianist. Capt. Wilhelm Hosenfeld was declared a Righteous Person by the nation of Israel in 2009.]

Posted on 09/17/2013
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt