ACT I (continued)
(The gavel sounds again. PROSECUTOR exits. Lights rise as DEFENSE crosses to his
playing area. The courtroom is empty.)
DEFENSE (continued):
Now, Miss Grese, up until this time the prosecution has been light with you. They shall
begin intense cross-examination today. Since incidents of beatings of prisoners by
yourself have already been well established, it would be best for your case if you admit
to them under my questioning, before the prosecution has a chance to--
(During the above speech, IRMA perches on the Defense counsel's desk. From a pocket
she has produced a compact and lipstick and is reapplying her make-up throughout the
DEFENSE's advice to her.)
IRMA:
Is my lipstick even?
DEFENSE:
If you could attend to the matter at hand. After all, it is your defense I am trying to
prepare.
IRMA:
What defense? We already know what the outcome will be.
DEFENSE:
Naturally. I can perhaps obtain some leniency for a few of your compatriots, but for
yourself there is nothing but the rope. However, in the meantime, there are procedures to
be followed --
IRMA:
Then you follow them. I don't need your help and I can certainly do without your arrogant
self-righteousness. You have forty-five other clients to defend. Why don't you go play
your little soldier games with them. I'm not interested.
DEFENSE:
As you have probably already ascertained, Miss Grese, I don't really care what you do. As
for myself, I have my duty to ful- fill, and as disagreeable as I may find it, I will
perform my assigned function to the best of my abilities. I would think that being in the
S.S. you could at least appreciate that. Now you are being tried for your actions as an
officer in an elite group, supposedly Germany's finest. Start behaving in a manner
appropriate to your rank and stop acting like an insolent, ill- mannered little brat.
IRMA:
How I would have loved to have had you at Auschwitz.
DEFENSE:
I doubt that. I'm not a meek little lamb to be led to the slaughter.
IRMA:
You misunderstand. I mean I would like to have had
you. You might have made an amusing diversion for an evening.
DEFENSE:
You would have needed a revolver.
IRMA:
Only occasionally.
DEFENSE:
I wouldn't think you'd be that needy.
IRMA:
Danke.
DEFENSE:
It wasn't meant as a compliment. I fail to see what possible pleasure could be derived
from such games. A man hardly performs his best at gunpoint.
IRMA:
He'd damn well better ... Ah, finally a reaction out of you. Good. Now we can get down to
business. You were about to ex- plain what can be laughingly termed as my defense.
DEFENSE:
Just keep your answers confined to one syllable whenever possi- ble. A simple yes or no.
Nothing else!
IRMA:
(Saluting smartly) Jawohl, mein Herr! Anything else, mein Führer?
DEFENSE:
I will steer questions away from the camp in general. Remember, you were not responsible
for conditions at the camp, they cannot blame you for the exterminations originated by
your superiors.
IRMA:
Ah, I was only following orders. How original!
(The gavel sounds three times. PROSECUTOR re- enters and sits at his desk. DEFENSE
steps downstage to deliver his remarks)
DEFENSE:
May it please the court. Before the prosecution begins its re- examination, I wish to make
some observations on the circum- stances from which the charges arise. Whatever our
personal views may be on concentration camps, they were, under German law, prisons; and
the persons therein were legally imprisoned in them. The decision of the German
government, which was binding on the accused, was that it was necessary for national
security that these people should be detained. What was going on at Belsen and Auschwitz
was beyond any one person's control. Transports streamed in daily, the camps were
hopelessly overcrowded. Just due to their very numbers the prisoners were difficult to
con- trol. In my submission, what the evidence of the reveals is a general standard of
corporal punishment rather than deliberate and excessive cruelty.
(DEFENSE returns to his area, passing by IRMA)
DEFENSE (continued):
Just 'yes' or 'no'.
PROSECUTOR:
Several witnesses in their depositions say you were the worst S.S. woman in the camp--
IRMA:
Yes, they say so. They are all lying.
PROSECUTOR:
You received rather rapid promotion for a young girl, did you not?
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
From a dairy-girl to being in charge of 30,000 women in a matter of two years? That is
fairly rapid promotion, is it not?
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
Were you promoted as a reward for your services in liquidating C camp?
IRMA:
No. C Lager was not 'liquidated'. It was transferred to A Lager.
PROSECUTOR:
Was not A camp merely a holding area for the gas chambers?
IRMA:
My, my Major, you seem to know--
DEFENSE:
(Whispered) Yes or no!
IRMA:
No!
PROSECUTOR:
What was the function of A camp?
(IRMA looks coquettishly at DEFENSE for permission to reply with more than a yes/no.
He abjectly signals her to continue)
IRMA:
(Smiling) I do not know.
PROSECUTOR:
Did you carry a stick at Auschwitz?
IRMA:
Ja. An ordinary walking stick.
PROSECUTOR:
Did you also carry a whip, as witnesses claim?
IRMA:
Ja. It was made in the camp weaving factory.
PROSECUTOR:
What kind of whip was it?
IRMA:
A very light whip.
(DEFENSE rises to intervene, but sees the futility and sits down again)
PROSECUTOR:
But it was effective when used on prisoners.
IRMA:
If used on someone, it would hurt.
PROSECUTOR:
Were any camp orders issued regarding whips?
IRMA:
Ja. Eight days after they were in use Commandant Kramer prohibit- ed whips in the camp.
PROSECUTOR:
Did you continue carrying your whip after receiving orders against their use?
IRMA:
Ja.
PROSECUTOR:
You thought it clever to have a whip designed for your use? ... Even when the Kommandant
ordered you to stop using it you went on, did you not?
IRMA:
Ja.
PROSECUTOR:
What was the whip made of?
IRMA:
Cellophane paper. It was plaited like a pigtail and translucent, like white glass. It was
quite a lovely thing. We had fine craftsmen in the camp.
PROSECUTOR:
Was it the type of whip one would use on a horse?
IRMA:
It was similar.
PROSECUTOR:
Did the other wardresses have these whips made as well?
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
It was just your bright idea?
IRMA:
Yes.
PROSECUTOR:
Were you ever directly ordered to beat prisoners under your charge?
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
So it was not a question of having orders from your superiors to be so armed. You in fact
did this against orders, did you not.
IRMA:
Ja.
PROSECUTOR:
You affected heavy top-boots and you liked to walk round with a revolver strapped on your
waist and a whip in your hand, did you not?
IRMA:
No, I did not like it.
PROSECUTOR:
Gertrude Diament in her deposition said that your favorite habit was to beat women until
they fell to the ground and then kick them as hard as you could with those heavy top-boots
of yours.
IRMA:
That is a lie. Perhaps it is her habit to lie.
PROSECUTOR:
Do you recall the incident when a mother was trying to talk to her daughter across the
wire and you beat the woman until she fell bleeding to the ground?
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
Have you regularly beaten so many women that you cannot recollect whether it happened or
not?
IRMA:
I do not remember the incident.
PROSECUTOR:
I suggest that you regularly indulged in brutalizing prisoners assigned to your care, and
that it was all part and parcel of this business of swaggering about in top-boots.
IRMA:
I would like to know who has seen me swaggering in the camp. I have never kicked anyone -
with boots or without. And I would like to ask you to leave out this word 'regularly'.
PROSECUTOR:
Did you regularly carry your whip at Belsen and Auschwitz?
IRMA:
Nein. I regularly kept it tucked in my top-boots. The ones I have regularly been accused
of swaggering about in.
DEFENSE:
(rising) Were your jackboots issued to you with your uniform, and did all the
wardresses at Auschwitz wear them?
IRMA:
Yes.
DEFENSE:
Was the revolver also regular issue, and were you ordered to wear it?
IRMA:
Yes, we were told it was for protection against partisans.
DEFENSE:
And the whip, was that also for self-protection?
IRMA:
No, it was to maintain discipline.
(not the answer the DEFENSE wanted to hear. He sits down again)
PROSECUTOR:
I suggest that by the time you were transferred to Belsen, these sadistic acts had become
an integral part of your life. So much so that when offered transfer, you asked to be
allowed to stay at Belsen, to continue your conduct right up to the time that you knew the
British would be liberating the camp.
IRMA:
My request to stay had nothing whatsoever to do with my work in the camps.
PROSECUTOR:
Then why did you elect to stay at Belsen?
IRMA:
It was for quite a different reason.
PROSECUTOR:
What was that reason?
IRMA:
It was a private affair.
PROSECUTOR:
What was that reason? ... Would the defense please instruct his client to answer the
question.
DEFENSE:
Answer the question, Miss Grese.
IRMA:
I became acquainted with an S.S. man while at Auschwitz who was also transferred with me
to Belsen. He is the reason I wanted to stay.
(HELENE and OLGA enter form opposite sides of the stage)
PROSECUTOR:
Were you lovers?
IRMA:
Yes.
(During the next two speeches, PROSECUTOR remains by IRMA, unable to remove his eyes
from her)
HELENE:
We were raised in a religious home. Father made sure that church was an important part of
our lives. We both sang in the choir. Irma has a lovely singing voice, a bright, clear
soprano ... She is no murderer! She is a God-fearing woman and has always be- haved in a
way to bring honor to our family. I grew up admiring my sister.
OLGA:
Somehow we both hated and admired her. So beautiful she was, even when she moved among us
laying the whip. We couldn't com- prehend someone so beautiful being so cruel.
(PROSECUTOR is mesmerized by IRMA's eyes. He takes a few steps back from her to
begin his questioning of OLGA, but never removes his look from IRMA)
PROSECUTOR:
While at Auschwitz, did you perform any personal medical services for Irma Grese?
OLGA:
I assisted at an operation.
PROSECUTOR:
Of what nature?
OLGA:
An abortion.
(Lights fade everywhere on stage except for OLGA's and the downstage playing area)
OLGA (continued):
She came into hospital one day. I thought it was to be another selection. But she sent
away all the patients and all the doc- tors. All except doctor Rose.
(IRMA enters downstage area. She is wearing her S.S. uniform cape)
IRMA:
I have been told you're very clever. I require your services. Some minor corrective
surgery.
OLGA:
It was a very difficult situation she put the doctor in. Very, very dangerous it was to
refuse her anything. Yet if her superi- ors found out about the illegal operation, Grese
and the doctor and anyone who assisted would be in grave danger. When the doctor hesitated
Grese tried to bribe her.
IRMA:
It's a simple operation. And you will be rewarded for your effort. I can be quite
generous. I could share my breakfast with you one morning. You will have either wonderful
chocolate or perhaps real coffee with milk. Think of it, real coffee.
OLGA:
But she was so afraid of the danger ...
IRMA:
Cakes, too, and bread with butter!
OLGA:
If anyone found out ...
IRMA:
I will also give you a winter coat, very warm and thick. It would make you the wealthiest
woman in this camp.
OLGA:
She finally refused.
IRMA:
(Draws revolver) You have no choice, Drek.
OLGA:
Rose asked me to assist with the procedure. She was so afraid to be alone with Grese. I
took Grese into the operating room. That was the first time I ever saw her without her air
of composure. This time it was she who was afraid. Through the procedure, she never once
dropped the pistol. Strange, the thing most I remem- ber, is that was the only time I ever
saw her hair out of place.
(IRMA crosses to OLGA and reaches a hand up to her on the platform. But OLGA just
stares at it in remembered horror. IRMA drops the hand and signals with the pistol for her
to step down. Loath to re-enter the nightmare, OLGA must be convinced with a nudge of the
pistol. When the two women are both down on the same level, IRMA sits on the table)
OLGA (continued):
The doctor is ready to start.
IRMA:
Are you in such a rush to kill a German child?
OLGA:
Of course not.
IRMA:
Do not think you can use this opportunity to be rid of me. I swear if you try anything,
I'll have you thrown to the dogs. Perhaps you've heard what the guards have trained them
to do with female prisoners? Or maybe Mengele's experiments. You know what he does in that
lab of his, don't you? ... Will it hurt?
OLGA:
There's no danger.
IRMA:
Then why am I so scared?
OLGA:
Lie back. It will be over soon. (PROSECUTOR steps into scene. He remains an observer in
background, on the edge of the lights)
PROSECUTOR:
What happened after the operation was completed?
OLGA:
I stayed with her, until she was well enough to go. She talked with me awhile, forgetting
for a moment I was an insignificant prisoner. She even let go of the gun. Very talkative
she was, almost as if chatting with a friend.
IRMA:
(Lights cigarette and offers one to OLGA) Cigarette?
OLGA:
Thank you, no.
IRMA:
Take it. It's not poisoned.
OLGA:
(Taking cigarette) Thank you, Fraulein.
IRMA:
(gently) Arbeitsdienstführerin, remember?
OLGA:
I remember.
IRMA:
Thank you ... for not killing me. Though perhaps you should have ... It's over. Strange,
with the millions that have died here, why do I feel guilty about the one little it-thing
that was inside me?
OLGA:
It was a girl.
IRMA:
A girl? I had a daughter? ... Damn you! Why did you have to tell me? A girl. Oh, she might
have been so lovely. They say I'm quite attractive. Do you think so?
OLGA:
You're beautiful.
IRMA:
A girl. Do you realize, Olga, that between us we have committed a capital offense? We have
killed one of the master race; while our beloved Führer is actually paying young German
women to create as many Aryans as possible. Ja, they even get a medal for the supreme
service to the Fatherland of producing many beauti- ful, superior Aryans. And we've just
killed one. You and I. Hitler would have paid a good price for my little girl. Pure Aryan
heritage, with parents so beautiful and so proud. Fine examples of the master race. She
would have been so lovely. How old?
OLGA:
Probably three months.
IRMA:
So young to have never lived. A daughter ... Do you have chil- dren, Olga?
OLGA:
(Surprised at question) Yes -- no! No, I had two sons. Both were sent to the gas
cham- bers.
IRMA:
Olga, you've been listening to idle chatter. We don't have gas chambers here. Officially
they are bakeries.
OLGA:
Why then, my sons are alive and baking bread, along with my parents. And I, I who brought
them here, still live.
IRMA:
You brought them here?
OLGA:
Oh, yes. We weren't arrested. We came willingly. It was my husband was arrested. No, not
really. We were told his services as a doctor were needed in Germany.
IRMA:
A plausible lie.
OLGA:
Oh, yes. And the German officials were so very, very consider- ate. I was so upset at my
husband being sent away, and they kindly allowed me to go with him. You see, they had no
wish to separate families. Arrangements could be made, for a price.
IRMA:
You paid them to send you here?
OLGA:
I wanted to be with him. I thought everything would be fine as long as we stayed together.
IRMA:
Go on.
OLGA:
My parents tried to change my mind, but I was going. Then -- then my parents decided to
come as well. Things were bad at home. We were the fortunate ones, we were going where we
were needed, while our friends were being arrested. Or just disappeared into the night. So
we left, accepting the hospitality of the German officials; me, my husband, mama and papa,
and my two sons.
IRMA:
Why do you all insist on making it so easy for us?
OLGA:
I suppose we did. We learned soon enough, on the train. A train ride from Hungary to
Germany via hell. Ninety-six people forced into a car built to hold eight horses. There
wasn't even room for all to sit down at one time. Two died the first night. We cried out
for them to remove the bodies, but no one answered. Five days we traveled in that car,
with the dead piling up around us, no food, we got water only once. We traded all our
jewelry with a soldier for one helmetful of water. But before he handed it inside, he
pissed in it. And there was small-pox in the car, and typhus, and diseases without name.
When the train finally stopped, oh, so very certain were we that now would come relief. We
were wrong, weren't we, Arbeitsdienstführerin?
(IRMA just stares in horrified fascination, having never heard the familiar story
from this viewpoint)
OLGA (continued):
We even had to spend another night in the car.
IRMA:
Sometimes shipments back up ... we get behind and ... well, you know better than I.
OLGA:
Yes, so I do. The next day we were processed. And then -- then I killed my family.
Believed, I did, your story about children and the old ones being cared for. The doctor
sent my youngest boy to the left, to the line for the gas chambers ... Sorry, I should say
bakeries. The doctor paused at Arvad, my eldest. Thinking I was saving him from hard work,
I told the doctor my son was not yet twelve, too young for hard labor.
IRMA:
My God!
PROSECUTOR:
(Overlapping with IRMA. He now steps completely into the scene and becomes a part of
the action*) My God!
(*NOTE: This is the turning point for the PROSECUTOR. He has now voluntarily stepped
into the nightmare, but it will not be until the second act that he realizes he is trapped
in IRMA's world. He has been in control of the action up until this point, but from here
on IRMA is in control.)
OLGA:
And then, I saw my Arvad sent to join the old and young at the left. So happy at such
kindness from the doctor, I dared to speak again to plead for my mother, saying she should
go with my sons, to take care of them. And doctor, so kind, smiled he did and sent her
with my sons to --
IRMA:
Shut up! I don't want to hear. I don't want to hear about your damned family ... Olga,
don't you know? You're vermin. Drek. Ja, you're filth! You're a blight that must be purged
from the face of Europe. I have it on the best authority. I don't want to know that you're
a person, that you are a woman who has loved and been loved. Don't you see? You're
not supposed to be a human being!
OLGA:
Of course, Arbeitsdienstführerin.
IRMA:
(Rushing away from OLGA, she speaks tenderly to the child that is no longer a part of
her) My little daughter, you had the seed of greatness in you. You could have done
anything you wanted, been anything you wanted to be. But no more, no more. Have another
cigarette, Olga.
(OLGA hesitates. IRMA flings pack and lighter at OLGA.)
IRMA (continued):
Take it, dammit! Take the whole pack ... Do you think she would have had my eyes? She
might have been ... Did you know I wanted to be an actress? Ja! I thought that would be so
grand. When I worked at hospital they said I had the looks for it. I would have loved
that. I always liked play-acting. Sometimes, that all there is. After the war, when all
this is over, maybe I'll go into pictures. You will see my name in lights, Olga. Who
knows? My experiences might prove useful in my artistic career. To perform, to be anyone
in the world, to create a beautiful image. Acting you can be anybody, do anything. For a
flickering moment, you can be greater than yourself, be something different from yourself,
better, more beautiful.
OLGA:
Instead, you are here.
IRMA:
Ja. Instead I am here. Finish your cigarette, Drek. Then report to the gas chambers.
They're expecting you.
(MENGELE'S whistling is heard off-stage. The women and PROSECUTOR turn toward him as
he enters. He is now wearing a tailored hospital coat)
OLGA:
Herr Doktor!
IRMA:
Joseph, what are you doing here?
MENGELE:
I work here. Come along. I have need of trained medical person- nel. For the present I
cannot allow talent to be wasted in the ovens.
IRMA:
This is camp business, Mengele. This shit is one of my prison- ers, she is not assigned to
your staff. Don't interfere.
MENGELE:
Oh, our little mama's getting upset.
IRMA:
How dare you! Did she tell you?
OLGA:
No, no! I tell no one!
MENGELE:
(Takes IRMA in his arms) Now, now little mama.
IRMA:
Don't call me that, and keep your hands off me.
MENGELE:
I will place my hands where I wish, and I will call you what you are, or rather what you
were. No use in disposing of this crea- ture to keep secret what is common knowledge.
(IRMA breaks from MENGELE's grasp. She dives for the pistol that she had left on the
examining table. Before she can level it at him he grabs her wrist in a painful grip,
forcing it back until she drops the weapon. He lays a slap across her face that sends her
sprawling across the floor. Reflexively, the PROSECUTOR starts to rush to IRMA's side,
stopping himself just in time before he makes a fool of himself by offering comfort to
this woman. MENGELE non-chalantly retrieves the pistol from the floor, dusts it off and
puts it in his pocket)
MENGELE (continued):
Temper, temper! I love what your eyes do when you're playing at righteous indignation.
IRMA:
Get out of here!
MENGELE:
I'm disappointed, Liebchen, that you did not consult me regarding the child. Don't you
think I should have been consulted?
IRMA:
Why would I tell you?
MENGELE:
You mean to say ... Well, it matters little now. Pity, Daddy would have been so pleased.
But now we'll never be sure if there might have been another heir to the Mengele fortune,
will we?
IRMA:
Oh, but I am quite sure. It's you who will always wonder.
MENGELE:
Ah, little mama, I never wonder about things of no consequence. Now why don't you go put
on that pretty new dress you liberated and we'll have a wonderful supper in my quarters.
You can fix it. #12;
IRMA:
Herr Doktor Mengele, the only time I wish to be with you is at selections, when I have my
pistol and whip firmly in hand.
MENGELE:
(To OLGA) You, come along before mama throws another tantrum.
(OLGA returns to her platform. MENGELE starts to exit, but then turns back to IRMA)
MENGELE (continued):
By the way, we've had wonderful success at the laboratory with our sterilization
experiments. We could add your name to the list.
(MENGELE exits. IRMA pounds the floor in impotent rage. The PROSECUTOR kneels down
beside her)
PROSECUTOR:
Miss Grese? Are you all right?
(Full stage lights return abruptly. HELENE and OLGA have returned to their places.
HELENE is reading from a magazine, quite upset. MENGELE is seated casually on one of the
desks, unnoticed by the others)
DEFENSE:
This incident occurred while you were stationed at Auschwitz. How old were you at the
time?
IRMA:
I was nineteen.
PROSECUTOR:
Only nineteen?
IRMA:
Ja. But old enough.
(PROSECUTOR once again falls prey to IRMA's mesmerizing eyes. HELENE begins to
quietly weep. Curious, MENGELE reads over her shoul- der)
MENGELE:
Irma! You've finally made it. Life Magazine. Oh, stop snivel- ing you silly little bitch.
This is the big time."Testimony of ex-prisoners painted Irma Grese as a woman who in
her short life has surpassed the most blood-curdling murderesses and sadists of previous
history. With her riding crop Irma Grese ferociously beat women prisoners to the
ground."
HELENE:
No.
MENGELE:
"She tied together the legs of women in childbirth, so that they were unable to
deliver and died in great --"
(HELENE rushes from stage crying. MENGELE picks up magazine and wanders down to
IRMA)
MENGELE (continued):
Stunning photo. Where was I? Yes, "... they were unable to deliver and died in great
agony. Irma's codefendants all showed signs of terror. But Irma's face moved only once.
Then it was to laugh."
(MENGELE tries to show the magazine to IRMA, but she has eyes only for PROSECUTOR)
MENGELE (continued):
Yes, I see. Not laughing now, are we?
DEFENSE:
Are you quite through with your cross-examination? ... Major!
PROSECUTOR:
Didn't you realize that people were dying all around you?
IRMA:
Of course I realized it.
(IRMA reaches out to touch his cheek. He rises and finally gets back into his
questioning)
PROSECUTOR:
Let me put this finally to you. Your sister said that when you were a little girl you were
frightened to stand up for yourself...
(IRMA rises and the PROSECUTOR's resolve wavers)
PROSECUTOR (continued):
...and that you ran away to avoid a fight. I suggest to you that you found it great fun to
hit somebody who could not hit back.
IRMA:
No.
PROSECUTOR:
I suggest that you enjoyed brutalizing helpless women.
IRMA:
(backing him up) No.
PROSECUTOR:
(retreating before her advance) I suggest that you went into the concentration camp
service a frightened young girl, according to your sister, a cowardly little girl, and
found yourself for the first time in a position to strike people when they could not
strike back.
IRMA:
Ja, it might have been that I was frightened as a child, but I grew up in the meantime.
(PROSECUTOR has no further room to escape. For the first time IRMA touches him and
all action freezes except for MENGELE, who crosses down to the two of them)
MENGELE:
My, my, my.
(MENGELE exits whistling his persistent aria)
LIGHTS OUT
INTERMISSION
Continue on to Act II |
