In the meantime, the expert we needed arrived. Since the Reichsführer had left Vinnitsa with the Führer at the end of October to return to East Prussia, Korsemann had applied directly to Berlin and the RuSHA had agreed to send a woman, Dr. Weseloh, a specialist in Iranian languages. Bierkamp was extremely unhappy when he learned the news: he wanted a racial expert from Amt IV, but no one was available. I reassured him by explaining that a linguistic approach would turn out to be fruitful. Dr. Weseloh had been able to take a mail plane to Rostov, via Kiev, but from there had been forced to continue by train. I went to greet her at the Voroshilovsk station, where I found her in the company of the famous writer Ernst Jünger, with whom she was having an animated conversation. Jünger, a little tired but still spruce, wore a captain’s field uniform from the Wehrmacht; Weseloh was in civilian clothes, with a jacket and a long skirt made of thick gray wool. She introduced me to Jünger, obviously proud of her new acquaintance: she had found herself by chance in his compartment at Krapotkin, and had recognized him immediately. I shook his hand and tried to say a few words to him about the importance that his books, especially The Worker, had had for me, but already some officers from the OKHG were surrounding him and taking him away. Weseloh, visibly moved, waved as she watched him leave. She was a rather thin woman, her breasts scarcely visible, but with exaggeratedly wide hips; she had a long horselike face, blond hair drawn back in a crisp bun, and glasses that revealed slightly bewildered but eager eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not in uniform,” she said after we had exchanged a German salute. “They asked me to leave so quickly that I didn’t have time to have one made.”—“That’s fine,” I replied amiably. “But you’ll be cold. I’ll find a coat for you.” It was raining, and the streets were full of mud; on the way, she enthused about Jünger, who had come from France on an inspection mission; they had spoken about Persian inscriptions, and Jünger had congratulated her on her erudition. At the Group, I introduced her to Dr. Leetsch, who explained the object of her mission; after lunch, he entrusted her to me and asked me to put her up in Pyatigorsk, to help her in her work, and to look after her. On the road, she spoke again about Jünger, then asked me about the situation in Stalingrad: “I’ve heard a lot of rumors. What exactly is happening?” I explained to her the little that I knew. She listened attentively and finally said with conviction: “I’m sure that it’s a brilliant plan of our Führer’s, to draw the enemy forces into a trap and destroy them once and for all.”—“You must be right.” In Pyatigorsk, I found her quarters in one of the sanatoriums, then showed her my documentation and reports. “We also have a lot of Russian sources,” I explained.—“Unfortunately,” she answered curtly, “I don’t read Russian. But what you have there should be enough.”—“Fine, then. When you’ve finished, we’ll go to Nalchik together.”
