Young Shlomo drooled unless he thought not to, but there was nothing else wrong with him. He held onto his greasy coke-bottle-lens glasses as the elevator sunk lower and lower into the bowels of MOSSAD HQ, in Tel Aviv, Israel.
Shlomo thought about what the dean had said to him when he graduated the academy the week before; that there were plenty of smart Jews, but not enough dumb ones. The important thing was to always have a plan B, and BTW, not to hang his MOSSAD diploma on the wall, because now he was a spy.
The elevator opened to the global command center, which was stuffy and smelled of sulfur. One whole wall was a computer screen, with a giant map of the world that must have been 50 feet wide with all sorts of news, flashing lights and symbols. There were workers at computer workstations, religious and atheistic, some with yarmulkes, many with designer T-shirts, there was an office kitchen off to the side with food to nosh on and microwaves humming away, there were serious looking commando guards with guns and handcuffs.
“Welcome to the kosher armpit, young Shlomo!” said a gravely voice from a group of curly haired hook-nosed men.
“Hi Uncle Bennie!” shot back the exuberant young man to the director of Wet Ops.
“I want for you to meet the crew; this is Moishe, Mort, Menachem and Chayim is our computer hacker guy, and here is Levi, your new boss, the chief of Israeli intelligence.” Shlomo forgot to think about not drooling.
“I remember you from graduation last week.” Shlomo said to Mr. Levi.
Levi waddled around young Shlomo and gave him the once over, he pinched him on the cheek and said “He’ll do.”
Uncle Bennie began, “Shlomo, we have a time sensitive top secret spy mission for you as your first assignment.”
“You do?”
“The entire future of the Jewish peoples rests on the success of this mission.”
“It does?”
“Shlomo, the United States gives more money to Israel than to all other countries combined. Do you know why?” The men leaned in and studied Shlomo’s face for the appropriate reaction.”
Shlomo felt heat. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you why!” Color was coming into Uncle Bennie’s face. “Because of the Holocaust!” He wagged his finger.
“They taught us in school, that’s ancient history! Did it even happen?”
There was a collective groan, “You see.” Implored Levi to his cohorts. “See how they’ve forgotten the 6 million? The young people?” The men nodded their heads in agreement.
“We must never forget!”
“Never forget.”
“The 6 million.”
“There’s no business like shoah business!”
“Amen to that!”
“Shlomo the thing is that as people forget about the Holocaust, and how Jews have suffered like no other people, our income starts to drop.”
“There’s no business like shoah business!”
“We have one chance only to bring the Holocaust into the 21st. century. To keep alive the memory of the Nazis, because there is only one left.” said the chief of the MOSSAD.
Levi continued, “This Nazi Shlomo, he was very high up in terms of the Holocaust, also he is the only one left. He was a Private in rank, but just remember, Hitler himself was a mere corporal.”
“This Nazi Shlomo, he is very old and in bad health, we need to capture him before he dies.” added Uncle Bennie, the head of Wet Ops. “We will put him on ‘Show trial’ It will be a real circus!”
“Like Eichmann.” The men laughed.
Shlomo felt the weight of responsibility settling on him. “What do you need me for?”
“We need a secret agent that can not only look stupid, but will be stupid. Will you do this for the Jewish people’s Shlomo?”
“I thought Nazis were dead from old age with the dinosaurs.” Shlomo drooled.
“The last living Nazi’s name is Jerry Brown and he is at the Simon Wiesenthal Center for Older Jewish Peoples located in the outskirts of Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay, South America.”
“Is he a guard?” asked Shlomo nervously.
“No Shlomo. He’s 100 years old, he lives there, he’s a patient.”
“I mean but will he attack me?”
“No Shlomo, he’s a sweet old man, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, and besides he needs a wheelchair if he’s traveling outside his room. You’re going to push that wheelchair.”
They went to the costume department. “We are going to be Canadian.” The boss handed out Canadian passports. “And here are some Canadian credit cards to go with the passports, and comic book socks for everyone.” Shlomo got Black Panther socks.
“OK Shlomo we have to cut off your payas so you’ll fit into present day Uruguay.”
“My what, what are cutting off?”
“Your Payas, sometimes called Payot; those spaghetti like curlicues, the greasy hair hanging in front of your ears.”
“How the hell should I know what’s hanging in front of my ears! Do you think I have eyes on the side of my head?” Shlomo shot back with incredulity. They cut off his payas.
“Now you look like a hipster.”
“I am a hipster.”
They flew from Israel to Uruguay, but were delayed by a couple of days after being put in jail for using stolen credit cards. Jews have so many enemies, but then the embassy intervened, and they got out of jail and took the bus, and before you knew it there was Shlomo filling out the job application at the Simon Wiesenthal Center for Older Jewish Peoples. Fellow spy Chayim the computer hacker guy was there, disguised, helping Shlomo with the hard parts. The owner of the place, Mr. Bernstein came out.
“Are you here to kidnap the old Nazi?” asked Mr. Bernstein.
“No.” said Chayim.
“Yes.” said Shlomo.
“You will find him to be a kind and considerate old man, very helpful. Mr. Jerry Brown doesn’t complain non-stop like the others.” Mr. Bernstein looked over the MOSSAD agents. “Let’s get you two lab coats.”
Shlomo carefully made his way down the worn corridors of the pee smelling institution. No one noticed him as he pushed an empty wheelchair past doorways with cheap plastic Mezuzah’s, towards the room of his target; shriveled up 100 year old Nazi war criminal, SS Private Jerry Brown.
“Hello, I’m Shlomo.”
“Where is Pedro?” interrupted the old Nazi, before Shlomo could properly introduce himself.
“Pedro has had a family tragedy, and he won’t be coming today.” Shlomo spoke the line as rehearsed, without a single mistake; the old man was fooled.
“Schwinehundt! I have to go to the bathroom.” croaked the old Nazi. “Help me into my wheelchair.”
“Your regular rest room is closed for renovations. We will have to use plan B.” Shlomo explained. At the mention of ‘plan B’ the old man cracked a faint smile.
The Jewish spy pulled the frail and grey old man out of his bed into the wheelchair. He pushed the wheelchair out into the hall and had to untangle the old man’s bathrobe from the wheel; this was not an easy mission.
They rolled past the men’s room and Shlomo said “We’re going to a newer, nicer men’s room, very high-tech.” The old man didn’t say anything. They made a safe getaway out the front door, the odor of marijuana wafted with the breeze. They waited for the bus.
The press was ready when their plane touched down in NYC. There were reporters, politicians, protestors and thousands of Holocaust victims with special guest star Steven Spielberg.
The prison bus drove in a convoy of sirens and flashing lights to the Tombs jail and Federal Court building in lower Manhattan. They rode the elevator up from the basement to the courtroom. Shlomo smiled reassuringly at the confused old Nazi. The doors opened up and the corridor was filled with more reporters and cameras, he was wheeled thru the courtroom and into the judge’s chambers.
“Hello and greetings!” the judge beamed at Jerry Brown and shook his had vigorously. “I’m judge Cohen, I hope you had a very nice trip! Thanks for coming.”
The Judges chamber was filled with eager, excited professionals. There was Federal Prosecutor Sam Shekelbaum, assistant Prosecutor Shakeefa Washington, prominent defense lawyer Jacob Silverstein, the CNN liaison and some others.
They dressed the old man in a too-big Nazi uniform from a costume store. Prosecutor Shekelbaum took the lead, “Greetings SS Private Jerry Brown, and thank you for coming. This is an important day for Jews and good people everywhere; today is your trial for crimes against humanity,” he smiled, “and we need you to do your part, Mr. Brown.
“You must show everyone that after all these years you are still a committed Nazi, an unrepentant monster, that if you were to escape, even today, you would do it all over again! Say Heil Hitler!
“Whatever you do, don’t make the jury like you, or worse, feel sorry for you. Don’t act like a weak old man who doesn’t know where he is.”
Silverstein the defense lawyer added “It is very important that you hold up your end Mr. Brown, the very future of the Holocaust is at stake.” The moment was somber, all eyes were on the crumpled old Nazi in the wheelchair.
SS Private Jerry Brown asked “May I use the men’s room?”
After two days of Holocaust documentaries the trial started, the accused looking old, frail and pathetic; far from menacing, far from how an evil Nazi should appear.
The Prosecutor began “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today we have a court case that will go down in history as the most important trial of the whole 21st. century!” the jury looked doubtfully from the prosecutor to the slumped old Nazi, needlessly handcuffed to his wheelchair.
“We intend to prove that the accused,” he motioned towards the defense table “one Herr Jerry Brown, while serving in the German SS under Adolph Hitler at the Auschwitz death camp did plan the murder of too many Jews to count!
“During this trial ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we will beg your indulgence on occasion; Herr Jerry Brown is the last Nazi, all the other ones are dead, so please help us with this conviction. Thank you.” The only sound in the courtroom were some buzzing flies and the old Nazi snoring.
Slides were projected on a screen, assistant Prosecutor Shakeefa Washington took over, “Since the Holomocausty happened such a long time ago, we don’t have no photos of the defendant in his actual Nazi SS uniform, but here are actual photographs of Adolph Hitler, see the Swastika logo; that’s how you can tell he be full Nazi.
“Here be pictures of Auschwitz death camp, (not a nice place mmm, hmm, mm,) see where it says ‘Arbeit macht frei’, that translates into ‘work sets you free’. Ha! Well those Nazi crackers didn’t pay either, so it was free work, and many of them was college Jews too.” The slide of the shower door came up.
The court officers wheeled the old man to the witness box. The defense began “Mr. Jerry Brown, we have preemptively put you on the witness stand so you can tell the Jury in your own words. What did you do during WW2?”
The old Nazi looked the courtroom over with furtive glances from squinting eyes, he shook as he spoke. “I was at the movies!”
“Did you ever hurt the Jews?”
“No, not at all, we loved the Jews, (cough, cough) we hid them in our basement, and also the attic.”
“Is there any reason why you would be accused of practically running Auschwitz?”
The old man’s eyes were slits “We Germans all look alike.”
The jury didn’t like the old man’s answer. So far so good.
“Watch this” said the Prosecutor to his assistant. “So Mr. Jerry Brown, you have never been to Auschwitz? Or should I call you SS Private Jerry Braun?” Before the old Nazi could answer Prosecutor Shekelbaum called out “Bring in exhibit AAA.”
A fat bored court officer wheeled in a cart with a clipboard and an old wooden crate marked ‘Zyklon B’. A hush came over the courtroom. Assistant Prosecutor Shakeefa Washington attempted unsuccessfully to pry open the wooden crate but her boss motioned for her to sit down.
The Prosecutor shot out a self-righteous and accusatory finger at exhibit AAA. “This is Zyklon B! This is what the Nazis used in the fake showers to kill us with!” He was working himself up into quite an agitated state, he made eye contact with the jury.
“So Jerry Brown or should I call you SS Private Jerry Braun? Allow me to call your attention to this packing slip.” He picked up the clipboard with a faded yellow document. The old Nazi seemed to recognize the invoice and looked worried. The WW2 Nazi packing slip was projected on the screen. It was the customer copy for receipt of one pallet of Zyklon B, from IG Farben Co., delivered to Auschwitz concentration camp signed for by a certain SS Private Jerry Braun. “Is that your signature Herr Private?”
The old Nazi’s face had turned into a giant frown, he choked on his words “Oh please, I don’t feel well. May I return home?” He looked around and settled on the judge.
“Answer the question.” Said Judge Cohen.
“Do you know what ‘Zyklon B’ is used for!?!”
“At Auschwitz we used ‘Zyklon B’ to delouse the Jews.” He spoke in a weak voice.
“So, you have been to Auschwitz after all, Herr Mr. Private Jerry Braun!”
“I was only following orders!” The old man looked like he was about to drop dead.
“You’re a very bad man Herr Jerry!” announced Prosecutor Sam Shekelbaum to all present. The old man was crying softly. “You gassed at least a million Jews personally Herr Jerry!”
“No, no!” the old man was shaking.
“You gassed them with ‘Zyklon B’ Jerry.”
“Only to kill the lice; there were so many of them, crawling everywhere. Please, please.” sobbed the old man. “Shlomo take me home, please!”
“In fake shower rooms! My whole family, and probably yours too.” Prosecutor Sam Shekelbaum shouted with passion, but, alas he had gone too far; the jury now felt some sympathy for the old Nazi.
“Let de’ ol’ man go home! He be already done say he don’t gas no Jew. He be at dey’ movies!” shouted juror #7.
The judge banged his gavel ‘bang, bang, bang’. “Order in the court. ‘bang, bang, bang’. Both sides in my chamber now!”
Everyone now assembled in the Judges chamber was a Jew except for the old mystery meat senior court officer. Judge Cohen admonished all present “This is a disaster! The jury likes the old Nazi!”
Defense lawyer Jacob Silverstein spoke up, “The defense is doing its part your honor, but the people are coming on too strong; fact is they’ve humanized the old Nazi.”
Prosecutor Sam Shekelbaum retorted, “You try prosecuting a 100 year old and see how you like it! Judge, how many Jews do we have on the jury?”
Judge Cohen considered. “I don’t like this. Do we have a plan B?”
Levi, the head of MOSSAD stepped forward. “Yes we do have a contingency plan everyone! I’m relieved to say. Happy day. We have a change of plan, a very good plan.”
“Well, well, what is it, what is it?”
Levi puffed up. “Well, the people are liking the Nazi because he is old and weak, great, great grandfatherly; a sympathetic character if you will. But, if he were to look like a real Nazi, you know; young, tough and scary. Let’s say he is menacing and evil so they don’t feel so bad for him. If we could make the jury to hate the Nazi, to be afraid of him.” He explained.
The CNN liaison interjected “Makeup has already done all they can with him!”
The MOSSAD chief formed a knowing smile, an ‘I have a secret’ type grin. “We have a ‘final solution’ for this. I will let our computer guy explain.”
Chayim the computer hacker guy produced a briefcase and opened the combination lock. Inside there was a bright orange glowing vial and a large syringe. Everyone in the judge’s chamber stared at the glowing vial.
The computer hacker guy put on a serious face. “This vial contains ‘Experimental Concentrate of Pre-historic Aryan DNA’.” They all took a step back. “We’re gonna’ inject the old Nazi and when we do he probably should be revitalized and look like a Nazi should, and…”
“What do you mean ‘Experimental Concentrate of Pre-historic Aryan DNA’!?!”
Levi the MOSSAD chief took over. “A long, long time ago, at the top of the world, where day lasts half the year, and night the other half, there was a great, great city. This was the capital for the Aryans, and it is now at the bottom of the sea.
“At the end of WW2 the Nazis explored the sunken city by submarine. They sought the means to make a super-weapon. There they discovered the mummy of a great Aryan king who had stood 88 inches tall.” All present were mesmerized. Shlomo drooled steadily.
Levi continued, “The Nazis took the Aryan king mummy to a secret laboratory in the dungeons of Wewelsburg Castle, located in the in the Landkreis of Paderborn in the northeast of North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany. Once there, their top scientist, Dr. Josef Mengele, worked tirelessly to extract and preserve the pre-historic Aryan superman DNA. Luckily the war ended before the dirty German Nazis could test it out.”
Judge Cohen took over. “So we inject the old Nazi with ‘Experimental Concentrate of Pre-historic Aryan DNA’ and he rejuvenates into a young Nazi; the Jury will then find him unsympathetic, and then, Presto, we’ll get our conviction!” He paused. “OK, the Jury already don’t like you Mr. Prosecutor, so we’ll let Silverstein the defense handle this.”
The court resumed when the jury was re-seated. Defense lawyer Silverstein handled it.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your patience. I would like to take a moment to speak about right and wrong, legal and not-so-legal.” He paused for effect.
“We know that with all the injustice out in the world sometimes you got to bend the rules a little bit. We know that justice is blind. Now this is an important trial because it is about the worst thing that ever happened; the Holocaust. Well many, many years ago we had a big important trial for the Holocaust, at Nuremberg, maybe you heard about it.
“Now, because of all the terrible, terrible things these Nazis did, and thought about doing, they didn’t deserve a fair shake, because they were guilty anyway. And I’ll be honest with you, the judges and the lawyers at Nuremberg were all Jews, and they made up their own rules as they went along, because sometimes to get justice you got to be creative.” The shifty-eyed lawyer was starting to sweat.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may have noticed that most of us lawyers here are of the Jewish persuasion, the Judge is a fellow Israelite, and that’s a good thing, because prosecuting the Holocaust is no laughing matter.
“So the thing is, the old man, I mean the war criminal Nazi that I am representing, well he has been lying, and now we are going to give him some truth serum to make it clear that he is a dangerous Nazi.” Silverstein looked up at the Jury to see whether they would object, he quickly nodded to the judge.
Levi, the head of MOSSAD snuck up behind the handcuffed old Nazi in his wheelchair, he grabbed his grey, spindly, liver-spotted arm and jabbed it with the needle filled with Experimental Concentrate of Pre-historic Aryan DNA. The old man came to full awakeness as the contents of the syringe were injected. Time seemed to stop, then thunder and lightning at the same moment!
Energy flowed thru the courtroom, electricity and light. The old man was transforming into a youthful Uber-human, Aryan Nazi superman! For a moment only it looked like the Jewish plan to make SS Private Jerry Braun appear menacing and genocidal to the jury would work. But there were cries of “Oh no!” and “Oy Veh!”
His eyes changed first; from dull, old and tired, to a radiant blue with clear headlight like whites, which projected a godlike will. They were like magnets of truth. His old-man body, slumped in his wheelchair, straightened up. The 100 year old Germans hair went from brittle white to a rich blond; magnificent and intense like the sun!
SS Private Jerry Braun stood up like a shot out of his wheelchair. The handcuffs popped as his arm stretched forward in a roman salute. “Heil Hitler!” he bellowed in a voice that was heard for miles. The live TV feed went black. The Nazi’s omnipotent gaze panned the room; he was in control.
The jaded court officers forgot about lunch and felt themselves come to attention. “Block the exits!” commanded the SS man. One court officer ran to the double doors and wedged his club thru the door handles, another positioned himself in front of the judge’s chamber. “Round them up!”
Then something truly magical happened, suddenly the voiceless had a voice, and those who had never known they had no voice spoke as if for the first time. They spoke with pointed fingers “Jew!” “Jew!” “Hey Jew!” The jurors, the spectators, they looked around. Jews scurried like rats; Jew lawyers hid under tables, behind the evidence cart. The Judge tried to use the emergency trap door beneath his bench, but the senior court officer beat him to it. “Not this time Judge Cohen!”
Everybody pitched in. They herded the Jews into the Judges chamber; the luckless Semites squealed as they were packed like sardines into a cattle car; there was no escape. The people shoved the door shut and it clicked. The senior court officer locked it.
SS Man Jerry Braun walked over to the evidence table and ripped open the antique wooden crate of Zyklon B. The chemical cakes were packed individually. He took out the first cardboard box and unwrapped it. He sniffed the Zyklon B with approval as it started to smoke and sizzle. Then he slipped it thru the mail slot on the door of the judge’s chamber. The choking noises started.
“Quickly.” He said motioning to the crate on the table. The people formed a human chain as they passed the Zyklon B boxes to the German who unboxed the cakes and pushed them through the mail slot. There was screaming and banging and ungodly noises coming from the Judges chamber as well as an acrid odor seeping out thru the door seams.
In total the Nazi superman deposited 88 cakes of Zyklon B thru the mail slot into the Judges chamber before the screaming stopped. He paused “This stuff is old, we must make new Zyklon B.”
The fertile looking blond haired juror then spoke up, “and I will have your babies.”
THE END
