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WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The
Beate Klarsfeld Foundation
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by the arm and kicking me in the calves kept chanting
in an outraged voice: "She slapped the Chancellor."
We went into an
office, where a policeman took my identity card. I followed the subsequent
events without interest. The essential thing was behind me. I could still
hardly believe I had done it.
"Ah, so it's you!" he said. "I noticed
your pamphlets scattered along the Kurfürstendamm."
As a matter of
fact, from the time the Congress opened, Berlin's young anti-fascists had
turned the intersection of the Kurfürstendamm and Joachimstaler Strasse
into a forum, and had distributed "The Truth about Kurt-Georg Kiesinger" to the
crowd.
Old Ernst Lemmer, Kiesinger's Berlin deputy, came into the
office leaning on his stick. For a long time he had been "refugee" minister. As
a member of the 1933 Reichstag, he had voted to give Hitler full power. As a
Nazi propagandist, he had extolled the Third Reich in over two thousand
articles. He stood before me and delivered a sermon:
"Listen, my dear
child, what do you mean by slapping our Chancellor?"
"I can't stand
having a former Nazi as Chancellor. I slapped him to let the whole world know
there are some Germans who will not be put to shame."
Lemmer started to
leave, shaking his head. Then he turned around and said: "I could be your
grandfather."
He was hardly outside the door before he gave the
reporters his personal opinion: "That woman, who could be very pretty if she
were not so sickly looking, is a sexually frustrated female."
Two weeks
later Stern, which had printed Lemmer's opinion, published a letter of
apology from him: "When I made that remark, I did not know that Frau Klarsfeld
is married and has a child, or that her father in law perished in Auschwitz."
The telephone never stopped ringing. Plainclothesmen took me out by
a side door. We went through the enormous basement, where I was astonished to
see an army of policemen in battle array. We came out and I was shoved into a
police car. I caught a glimpse of Michael making the victory sign.
At
police headquarters, two inspectors questioned me exhaustively. Then, after
offering me some sausages and potato salad in
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WHEREVER THEY MAY BE
© 1972, The
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