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59 pages 1 hour read

Christopher R. Browning

Ordinary Men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland

Christopher R. BrowningNonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 1992

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Chapters 5-9

Chapter 5 Summary: “Reserve Police Battalion 101”

In September 1939, Germany invades Poland and Police Battalion 101 is among the first battalions sent into the occupied country. In December, the battalion returns to Hamburg and around 100 young career policemen leave for other units, being replaced by older reservists. The battalion returns to Poland the following year, where it carries out “resettlement actions” in which “all Poles and other so-called undesirables—Jews and Gypsies—[are] expelled from the incorporated territories into central Poland” in the name of “racial purification” (39). One reservist, Bruno Probst, recalls this as the time he “experienced the first excesses and killings” (40).

In late 1940, the battalion is ordered to guard the Lódź ghetto and are given “a standing order to shoot ‘without further ado’ any Jew who […] [comes] too close to the fence” (41). Returning to Hamburg again in 1941, “all remaining prewar recruits beneath the rank of noncommissioned officer [are] distributed to other units, and the ranks [are] filled with drafted reservists” (41-42). The battalion is heavily involved in the deportation of Hamburg’s Jewish population. Setting up at a Russian barracks after escorting a deportation train to Minsk, they learn that the Jews they just escorted are to be shot. Lieutenant Hartwig Gnade, “[n]ot wanting to be involved” (43), takes the battalion out of the barracks and away from Minsk.

When the battalion returns to Poland in June 1942, it is mostly “composed of men without any experience of German occupation methods in eastern Europe, or for that matter […] any kind of military service” (44), with only a few of its members having been present at the early actions. It is led by Major Wilhelm Trapp, a 53-year-old veteran of World War I and career policeman. Although Trapp joined the Nazi Party in 1932 (and so “technically qualifie[s] as an ‘old Party fighter,’ or Alter Kämpfer”), he has “never been taken into the SS” and is “clearly not considered SS material” (45). He will “soon come into conflict” (45-46) with his captains, Wolfgang Hoffmann and Julius Wohlauf, young men, SS officers, and committed members of the Nazi Party. They view Trapp as “weak, unmilitary, and unduly interfering in the duties of his officers” (46).

The battalion also has a first lieutenant and seven reserve lieutenants who were “selected to receive officer training after they were drafted into the Order Police, because of their middle-class status, education, and success in civilian life” (46-47). They are aged between 33 and 48 and do not belong to the SS. The noncommissioned officers are largely younger and are “not reservists but rather prewar recruits to the police” (47). Most of the “rank and file” policemen are from Hamburg and have an average age of 39, with more than half of them aged “between thirty-seven and forty-two, a group considered too old for the army but most heavily conscripted for reserve police duty” (48).

Approximately 63% of the rank and file policemen are “of working-class background” (47) mostly working unskilled jobs. Around 35% are “lower-middle-class, virtually all of them white-collar workers” (47). This means that “the majority [come] from a social class that had been anti-Nazi in its political culture” and “a not insignificant number” had presumably been “[c]ommunists, socialists, and/or labor union members before 1933” (48). In addition, “[b]y virtue of their age, […] [they] all went through their formative period in the pre-Nazi era” and “had known political standards and moral norms other than those of the Nazis” (48). These points considered together, the men do not appear to be “a very promising group from which to recruit mass murderers on behalf of the Nazi vision of a racial utopia free of Jews” (48).   

Chapter 6 Summary: “Arrival in Poland”

In 1941, Himmler puts Odilo Globocnik in charge of “the destruction of the Jews of the General Government, who constituted the bulk of Polish Jewry” (49). It is decided that this requires a “method different from the firing squad operations used against Russian Jewry,” a method that is “more efficient, less public, and less burdensome psychologically for the killers” (49). Jews are to be sent to “extermination camp[s] […] where—by virtue of assembly-line procedures requiring very limited manpower, most of it prisoner labor—they [will] be gassed in relative secrecy” (50).

Despite the scale of the task (there are, in total, around 2,000,000 Jews in the General Government), Globocnik is given “virtually no manpower to accomplish it” (50). He draws on “the Sonderdienst (Special Service), composed of small units of ethnic Germans” (51) and “the so-called Trawnikis,” or “non-Polish auxiliaries from Soviet border regions” (52) recruited from POW camps, as well as some members of the Security Police. However, “three Order Police battalions, totaling 1,500 men, represent the single largest police manpower pool” (51) at his disposal.

In spring 1942, Globocnik begins deporting Jews to extermination camps at Bełżec and Sobibór. By late June, “scarcely three months after the first deportations from the Lublin ghetto, about 100,000 Jews from the Lublin district [have] been killed, along with 65,000 from Kraków and Galicia” (53). However, the mass murder is halted by transportation issues and remains slow for almost a month. Battalion 101 arrive in the Lublin district “during this enforced lull in the Final Solution,” having “received orders for a ‘special action’” (53) but not knowing exactly what awaits them.

Initially, the battalion are involved in the “consolidation process” of “collecting Jews in smaller settlements and moving them to larger ghettos and camps” (54). Although this does not include mass executions, “Jews who [are] too old, frail, or sick to be transported [are] shot in at least some instances” (54). However, Globocnik soon “los[es] patience with this consolidation process and decide[s] to experiment with renewed killing” (54). With deportation trains unable to access the extermination camps, “mass execution through firing squad [is] the available alternative,” and “Reserve Police Battalion 101 [is] the unit to be tested” (54).

Chapter 7 Summary: “Initiation to Mass Murder: The Józefów Massacre”

Battalion 101 are ordered to round up the 1,800 Jews living in the village of Józefów. Jewish men of working age are to be sent to one of the camps while the “women, children, and elderly [are] simply to be shot on the spot” (55). When Major Trapp says that “any of the older men who [do] not feel up to the task before them [can] step out” (57), around a dozen men accept the offer. Lieutenant Heinz Buchmann also asks for another assignment, declaring that he will “in no case participate in such an action, in which defenseless women and children are shot” (56).

The battalion are assigned either to round up the Jews in Józefów or “to proceed to the forest to form the firing squads” (57). Trapp does “not go to the forest itself or witness the executions” (57) because he “[can] not bear the sight” (58). Policeman recall seeing him “weeping like a child,” asking “Oh, God, why did I have to be given these orders,” and declaring that “such jobs don’t suit me. But orders are orders” (58).

The first Jews arrive in the forest and the firing squad “[come] forward and, face to face, [are] paired off with their victims” who are ordered to “lie down in a row” (61). The policemen place “their bayonets on the backbone above the shoulder blades as earlier instructed, and […] [fire] in unison” (61). Aside from “a midday break, the shooting proceed[s] without interruption until nightfall” (61). Inexperienced men shooting at point-blank range make mistakes and often “the entire skull explode[s]” (64) and the men are soon “gruesomely besmirched with blood, brains, and bone splinters” (65). Alcohol is given to the shooters.

Confronting the reality of mass murder, some men try “to make up for the opportunity they had missed earlier” and ask to be relieved because the task is “repugnant” (62) and they are “not able to carry out further executions” because their “nerves [are] totally finished” or they have a “very weak nature” (66). Sometimes this occurs after they begin engaging in conversations with their victims and learn that they are from Germany or even from Hamburg, like most of the battalion. Other men do not ask to be relieved but “intentionally […] [shoot] past” (62) their targets, wounding rather than killing them, with one policeman later reporting that he “intentionally missed. I then ran into the woods [and] vomited” (68).

Others simply hide or appear to be busy elsewhere. One such policeman is later confronted by his comrades, who berate him “with remarks such as ‘shithead’ and ‘weakling’ to express their disgust,” although he otherwise “suffer[s] no consequences” (66). For various reasons, an ever-growing number of traumatized policemen gather in the village marketplace having been assigned new duties or “advised to ‘slink away’” (68) by some of the more sympathetic officers.

Seventeen hours after the battalion’s arrival in the village, the shooting finishes and the men return to their barracks “depressed, angered, embittered, and shaken” (69). They barely eat but drink “heavily” as Trapp attempts to “console and reassure” the men, “again placing the responsibility on higher authorities” (69). As if “[b]y silent consensus,” no one talks about the massacre and the “entire matter [is] a taboo” (69). That night, “one policeman [awakes] firing his gun into the ceiling of the barracks” (69).

Chapter 8 Summary: “Reflections on a Massacre”

Part of the reason so few men initially excuse themselves from the massacre is the fact that there is “no forewarning or time to think” (71) about the realities of what is to come. Equally important is “the pressure of conformity—the basic identification of men in uniform with their comrades and the strong urge not to separate themselves from the group by stepping out” (71). To do so would mean “leaving one’s comrades and admitting that one was ‘too weak’ or ‘cowardly’” (72). One policeman, “more aware of what truly required courage,” will later admit that he took part in the shooting precisely because “[he] was cowardly” (72). Most will later deny that they had a choice, despite Trapp’s offer, “claim[ing] that they had not heard that part of the speech or could not remember it” (72).

Anti-Semitism can be considered a factor in their decisions as, while the men may not have “consciously adopted the anti-Semitic doctrines of the regime, they [have] at least accepted the assimilation of the Jews into the image of the enemy” (73). Following this, their “concern for their standing in the eyes of their comrades [is] not matched by any sense of human ties with their victims,” as “Jews [stand] outside their circle of human obligation and responsibility” (73).

An estimated “10 to 20 percent of those actually assigned to the firing squads” (74) ask to be reassigned or otherwise avoid their duties but few do so because of “[p]olitically and ethically motivated opposition,” or “opposition to the regime’s anti-Semitism in particular” (75). Lieutenant Buchmann offers the “most dramatic” example of this, insisting that “short of a direct personal order from Trapp, he [will] not take part in Jewish actions” (76).

Most men, however, stop shooting because of “sheer physical revulsion against what they [are] doing” without “any ethical or political principles behind this revulsion” (74). Afterwards, “resentment and bitterness in the battalion over what they had been asked to do […] was shared by virtually everyone, even those who had shot the entire day” (76).

Accordingly, the greatest obstacle for the commanding officers is “not the ethically and politically grounded opposition of a few but the broad demoralization” (76) of everyone involved. Faced with the men’s “reaction to the sheer horror of the killing process itself,” they conclude that “the psychological burden on the men [has] to be taken into account and alleviated” (76).

To help avoid “psychological demoralization,” Battalion 101 are assigned primarily to “ghetto clearing and deportation,” which involves “terrible coercive violence […] as well as the systematic killing of those who could not be marched to the trains,” with the “bulk of the killing” (77) moved to extermination camps. They will also share many of their duties with “the Twanikis, SS-trained auxiliaries from Soviet territories,” who will be assigned “the worst of the on-the-spot ‘dirty work’” (77). This division of labor will allow the policemen to “become accustomed to their participation in the Final Solution” and develop into “increasingly efficient and calloused executioners” (77).

Chapter 9 Summary: “Łomazy: The Descent of Second Company”

Battalion 101 are redeployed to the Northern “security sector” of the Lublin district. On August 16, the battalion’s Second Company, commanded by Lieutenant Gnade and stationed in Łomazy, are told to be ready for “a Jewish ‘resettlement’” the following day, during which the “entire Jewish population [is] to be shot” (79). To spare Second Company the “psychological burden” (79) of mass murder, “the Hiwis from Trawniki [will] do the shooting” (80). However, the policemen will still have to execute “infants and the old, sick, and frail who [cannot] be easily taken to the assembly point” as part of the “roundup” (80).

Second Company round up 1,700 Jews and send “sixty to seventy young men” (80) from among them into the woods, to begin “work digging a mass grave” (80). When the Hiwis arrive, they “immediately […] [take] a break” and begin drinking “bottles of vodka” (80). Gnade and an attending SS officer also begin “drinking heavily” (80). Second Company escorts the Jews on the “one-kilometer ‘march of death’” (80) into the forest, during which anyone “who collapse[s] on the way [is] simply shot” (81). In the forest, the Jews are “ordered to undress” while policemen “collect clothing and valuables” (82).

Lieutenant Gnade is “‘a Nazi by conviction’ and an anti-Semite,” as well as being “unpredictable—affable and approachable at times, brutal and vicious at others” (82). His “worst traits [become] more pronounced under the influence of alcohol,” and in Poland he is “degenerat[ing] into a ‘drunkard’” (82). This “increasing dependence on alcohol [is] not unusual in the battalion,” with one rare nondrinker noting that his “comrades [drink] so much solely because of the many shootings of Jews, for such a life [is] quite intolerable sober” (82).

Gnade is “drunk senseless” and reveals a growing “streak of sadism” (82). He selects around “some twenty to twenty-five elderly Jews […] with full beards” and makes them undress and “crawl on the ground in the area before the grave” (82-83) while he “scream[s] to those around” to get clubs until they “vigorously beat the Jews” (83). Gnade then begins “to chase Jews from the undressing area to the grave” (83).

The grave has “mounds of dirt piled high on three sides” and, on the fourth side, “an incline down which the Jews [are] driven” (83). The Hiwis, “often with bottle in hand,” position themselves on the raised walls and shoot down as the Jews are driven into the pit, until “the grave [is] filled with corpses almost to the top” (83). Like Gnade, they are increasingly drunk and soon have to stand in the grave itself so as to avoid falling off the walls. As “groundwater mixe[s] with blood,” they are “soon standing in it up over their knees” (83).

When the Hiwis fall “into a drunken stupor” (83), Second Company are ordered to take over the shooting. They are formed into squads and “relieved by others in rotation after five or six shots” (84). Many of the Jews are “not fatally hit during the execution and nonetheless [are] covered by following victims without being given mercy shots” (83). Around two hours later, “the Hiwis [are] roused from their stupor and [resume] shooting in place of the German policeman” (84). When they finish at around 7 pm, the “thin covering of the overfilled grave continue[s] to move” (84).

Battalion 101’s second massacre is different from “the improvised and amateurish methods employed at Józefów” (85). Although the policemen had to take over briefly, the “Hiwis, not just liquored up after the event to help them forget but drunk from the start, [do] most of the shooting” (85). Despite being essential to the operation, “[t]hose spared such direct participation seem to have […] little if any sense of participation in the killing” (85). Even when they do take over the shooting, the policemen do not “have to pair off with their victims face to face,” so the “personal tie between victim and killed [is] severed” (85).

There is another key difference that offers “another kind of psychological ‘relief’ for the men—namely, this time they [do] not bear the ‘burden of choice’ that Trapp had offered them so starkly on the occasion of the first massacre” (86). Although they ultimately have a choice, it is “not offered to them so openly and explicitly” through official channels, so they do not have “to live with the clear awareness that what they [have] done had been unavoidable” (86). As such, “following orders reinforce[s] the natural tendency to conform to the behavior of one’s comrades” (87). Many find this easier than “the situation at Józefów, where the policemen were allowed to make personal decisions concerning their participation but the ‘cost’ of not shooting was to separate themselves from their comrades and to expose themselves as ‘weak’” (87).

Before the first massacre, Trapp had “not only offered a choice but he had set a tone,” telling the men that “[w]e have the task to shoot Jews, but not to beat or torture them” (87). Because the second massacre is committed by a company, rather than the whole platoon, Trapp is not present, and the “tone” is set by “Gnade’s gratuitous and horrific sadism,” which helps the men take “a major step towards becoming hardened killers” (87). 

Chapters 5-9 Analysis

Browning provides further details about Battalion 101, emphasizing their advanced age, the fact that “the majority [come] from a social class that had been anti-Nazi in its political culture,” and the significant observation that “all went through their formative period in the pre-Nazi era,” and therefore “had known political standards and moral norms other than those of the Nazis” (48). This helps to highlight the degree to which they are not “a very promising group from which to recruit mass murderers” (48). This lack of suitability is reinforced by the fact that the men largely had no “experience of German occupation methods in eastern Europe, or for that matter […] any kind of military service” (44), and were chosen simply because the Order Police are “the single largest police manpower pool” (51) available to Globocnik.

Trapp’s unsuitability is also emphasized. Despite “technically [qualifying] as an ‘old Party fighter,’” he is “clearly not considered SS material” (45) and even his captains, Wolfgang Hoffmann and Julius Wohlauf, both members of the SS, consider him to be “weak, unmilitary, and unduly interfering in the duties of his officers” (46). This also provides us with a small insight into the character of the captains, who will become more prominent figures as the book progresses. We also see a brief moment of Lieutenant Gnade’s character when, “[n]ot wanting to be involved” (43), he takes his troops away from Minsk, where the Jews they have transported are to be killed. This reluctance to be involved with the murder of Jews changes dramatically during the battalion’s second massacre as Gnade, later denounced as “‘a Nazi by conviction’ and an anti-Semite,” reveals a brutal “streak of sadism” (82), beating and degrading his Jewish captives.

The motif of distance appears again in these chapters. Distance here does not simply refer to the physical distance between the murderer and their victim but to the psychological distance that allows perpetrators to delude themselves that they are not directly involved in genocide. The creation of the “extermination camps,” with their “assembly-line procedures” (50), is intended to create such distance and so to be “less burdensome psychologically for the killers” (49). However, when train faults halt deportations, “mass execution through firing squad [is] the available alternative” (54) and Battalion 101 are forced to confront the distressing reality of killing without distance. The men are made to “[come] forward and, face to face, [are] paired off with their victims” (61), whom they must shoot at point-blank range.

The battalion’s reactions to such violence are significant. Trapp does “not go to the forest itself or witness the executions” (57) because he cannot “bear the sight,” and policemen remember seeing him “weeping like a child” and asking “Oh, God, why did I have to be given these orders” (58). Again, he frames the matter as something over which he has no choice, declaring that “such jobs don’t suit me. But orders are orders” (58). Lieutenant Buchmann, on the other hand, insists that he will “in no case participate in such an action, in which defenseless women and children are shot” (56). He will go on to declare that “short of a direct personal order from Trapp, he [will] not take part in Jewish actions” (76). Significantly, despite his belief that “orders are orders,” Trapp will allow this, just as he gives the other men the opportunity to “step out” (2). In fact, when some of the men who had not stepped out when first offered the option attempt “to make up for the opportunity they had missed earlier” (62), they too are allowed to perform other duties. This complicates our understanding of both Trapp and the idea of choice, revealing the contradictions and complexities that surround the story of Battalion 101.

There are further complications surrounding the men’s responses to Trapp’s offer. Many will later claim that they “had not heard that part of the speech or could not remember it” (72), conveniently sidestepping the possibility that they were following orders that they had explicitly been told they did not have to obey. Even if they truly did not hear, the fact remains that many still continue shooting, even as other comrades asked to be reassigned. Moreover, those who do ask for new duties are given them, or “advised to ‘slink away’” (68) by their superior officers, all of them “suffer[ing] no consequences” (66). In this, the argument that the men had no choice but to follow orders or face terrible consequences appears decidedly shaky. It is important to note in regard to this that although they receive no official punishment, those who step out are subjected to some complaints from their comrades, who abuse them “with remarks such as ‘shithead’ and ‘weakling’ to express their disgust” (66). This suggests that one of the biggest factors in the men’s decision to shoot is “the pressure of conformity—the basic identification of men in uniform with their comrades and the strong urge not to separate themselves from the group by stepping out” (71).

In the unit, to step out would be “admitting that one was ‘too weak’ or ‘cowardly’” (72) and several policemen explicitly frame their decision in these terms, with one blaming his own “very weak nature” (66). This idea of not shooting Jews as a weakness or failure on the part of the abstaining policeman is a recurrent motif that Browning uses to problematize the notion of weakness. He points to a policeman who will later admit that he took part in the shooting precisely because “[he] was cowardly,” and suggests that this man is “more aware of what truly required courage” (72). This motif also intersects with the theme of anti-Semitism because, while the men may not have “consciously adopted the anti-Semitic doctrines of the regime,” it certainly appears that their “concern for their standing in the eyes of their comrades [is] not matched by any sense of human ties with their victims,” as they consider Jews to be “outside their circle of human obligation and responsibility” (73).

As such, those who ask to be reassigned rarely do so because of “[p]olitically and ethically motivated opposition” or “opposition to the regime’s anti-Semitism in particular” (75), but rather are expressing “sheer physical revulsion against what they [are] doing” (74). This echoes the motifs of weakness and sickness and also picks up another key motif: alcohol. The consumption of alcohol both during and after the shootings is a recurrent pattern throughout the book. After the first massacre, the men are “depressed, angered, embittered, and shaken,” and barely eat but drink “heavily” (69). Alcohol, then, becomes another form of psychological distancing for the men and another way to get through the physical revulsion at mass murder. Indeed, an “increasing dependence on alcohol [is] not unusual in the battalion,” and one policeman who does not drink observes that his “comrades [drink] so much solely because of the many shootings of Jews, for such a life [is] quite intolerable sober” (82).

At the second massacre, the Hiwis also drink heavily and are “not just liquored up after the event to help them forget but drunk from the start” (85). Upon arrival, they “immediately […] [take] a break” and begin drinking “bottles of vodka” (80); they pause shooting and drinking only when they fall “into a drunken stupor” (83). Apart from a couple of hours in which they have to cover for the drunken auxiliaries, the Hiwis’ taking over of the shooting allows further distance for the men of Battalion 101. This leaves the men with “little if any sense of participation in the killing,” especially as, when they do briefly take over the shooting, they do not “have to pair off with their victims face to face,” so the “personal tie between victim and killed [is] severed” (85).

The second massacre is also significantly different in that the men involved do not “bear the ‘burden of choice’ that Trapp had offered them so starkly on the occasion of the first massacre,” and therefore do not have to “live with the clear awareness that what they [have] done had been unavoidable” (86). As Browning alludes to, this brings things full circle again, because “following orders reinforce[s] the natural tendency to conform to the behavior of one’s comrades” (87). This, again, adds complexity to the question of choice, and also recalls the significant theme of the pressure to conform.

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