Ohlendorf, I could tell from what he said, would have preferred not to have been placed in this position; but who, these days, had the good fortune to do what he preferred? He had understood this and accepted it lucidly. As a Kommandant, he was strict and conscientious; unlike my old Einsatzgruppe, which had quickly abandoned this impractical method, he insisted that executions be conducted according to the military method, with a firing squad, and he often sent his officers, such as Seibert or Schubert, on inspection to make sure the Kommandos were respecting his orders. He also insisted on curbing as much as possible all acts of theft or misappropriations by the soldiers in charge of the executions. Finally, he had strictly forbidden anyone to strike or torment the condemned; according to Schubert, these orders were followed as well as they could be. Aside from that, he always sought to take positive initiatives. The previous autumn, in collaboration with the Wehrmacht, he had organized a brigade of Jewish artisans and farmers to bring in the harvest, near Nikolaev; he was forced to put an end to this experiment on direct orders from the Reichsführer, but I knew that he regretted that, and in private he regarded the order as a mistake. In the Crimea, he had invested himself in developing relations with the Tatar population, with considerable success. In January, when the Soviets’ surprise offensive and the capture of Kerch had put our whole position in the Crimea in danger, the Tatars, spontaneously, placed a tenth of their male population at Ohlendorf’s disposal to help defend our lines; they also provided considerable help to the SP and the SD in the anti-partisan struggle, handing over to us those they captured, or liquidating them themselves. The army appreciated this assistance, and Ohlendorf’s efforts in this area had contributed a lot to improving his relations with the AOK, after the conflict with Wöhler. Still, he was hardly at ease in his role; and I wasn’t unduly surprised when, immediately upon Heydrich’s death, he began to negotiate his return to Germany. Heydrich was wounded in Prague on May 29 and died on June 4; the next day, Ohlendorf flew to Berlin to attend the funeral; he returned in the second half of the month promoted to SS-Brigadeführer and with a promise of a rapid replacement; as soon as he got back, he began making his farewell rounds. One evening, he briefly told me how it had happened: four days after Heydrich’s death, the Reichsführer had called him to a meeting with most of the other Amtschefs, Müller, Streckenbach, and Schellenberg, to discuss the future of the RSHA, and the very ability of the RSHA to continue as an independent organization without Heydrich. The Reichsführer had chosen not to replace Heydrich right away; he himself would be in charge during the interim, but from a distance; and this decision required the presence of all the Amtschefs in Berlin, to supervise directly their Ämter in Himmler’s name. Ohlendorf’s relief was obvious; beneath his customary reserve, he seemed almost happy. But that was scarcely noticed amid the general excitement: we were on the point of launching our big summer campaign in the Caucasus. Operation Blue got under way on June 28 with Bock’s offensive on Voronej; two days later, Ohlendorf’s replacement, Oberführer Dr. Walter Bierkamp, arrived in Simferopol. Ohlendorf wasn’t leaving alone: Bierkamp had brought his own adjutant with him, Sturmbannführer Thielecke, and the plan was to replace most of the veteran officers of the Gruppenstab, as well as the leaders of the Kommandos, during the summer, according to the availability of their replacements. At the beginning of July, in the enthusiasm generated by the fall of Sebastopol, Ohlendorf gave us an eloquent departure speech, invoking, with his natural dignity, all the grandeur and difficulty of our deadly fight against Bolshevism. Bierkamp, who came to us from Belgium and France, but who before had headed the Kripo in Hamburg, his native city, then served as IdS in Düsseldorf, spoke a few words to us. He seemed very satisfied with his new position: “The work in the East, especially in wartime, is the most challenging possible for a man,” he declared. By profession, he was a jurist and a lawyer; his statements, during his speech and the reception that followed, revealed a policeman’s mentality. He must have been about forty and was stocky, a little short-legged, with a sly look; despite his doctorate, he was definitely not an intellectual, and his language mixed Hamburg slang with SP jargon; but he seemed determined and capable. I saw Ohlendorf again only one more time after that evening, during the banquet offered by the AOK to celebrate the fall of Sebastopol: he was busy with the army officers, and spent a long time conversing with von Manstein; but he wished me good luck, and invited me to come see him whenever I was in Berlin.
