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Margit Dannecker Blog Entry |
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February 17, 2023, 3:00:10 AM 2/17/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Margit Dannecker. She's a pretty new character and is the mother of THIS guy. She's deceased before the main story takes place but played a large role in the personal development of her son's character. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se. Regarding her design, since her son is intended to be a purebred Siberian husky I guess that means she is too, though she's quite petite in size. She's intended to resemble her son's (later) stepdaughter, Margarethe (similar name too), although they're not related. TUMBLR EDIT: I'm stepping into it deciding to draw this particular character 😕 but I want to exorcise her from my head. I'm going to have to try to keep details vague but a WARNING ahead of time, the Dannecker family is probably the most disturbing aspect of this story (well, aside from the literal Holocaust), so whenever their detailed profiles go live on Toyhou.se I may finally use an individual profile warning page (currently I just use a general warning for my entire account since I have so much triggering content). Meaning that although I won't go into gruesome detail here, yes, it will still be disturbing and offensive. I'll say outright that the Dannecker storyline involves intergenerational child abuse. So please skip the rest of the entry if that's too much, I fully understand. Just a note that this isn't a plot point "just because"--in fact, while I knew of the situation with Dannecker and his stepdaughter, I only recently learned of that between him and his mother, it wasn't planned from the start. I generally don't try to get too far into the psyche of people like Dannecker, I figured he's just similar to a psychopath (if not specifically one), but the reason behind some of his behavior (a reason, not an excuse) emerged, so I felt the need to develop it. It's not intended merely to shock but to explain how somebody became so despicable. All right, now that there's been a warning... I've already gone over, various times, the terribly inappropriate relationship between SS labor camp commandant Ernst Dannecker and his young stepdaughter Margarethe, or Gret; I've never just come out and said it. Dannecker literally stalks and then marries Gret's mother, Else, for the specific purpose of grooming Gret, whom in a twisted way he considers to be his "true" wife. She's like fourteen or fifteen when he marries her mother; he gives her a year. So she's about sixteen when the abuse starts, and it continues until she's around eighteen or nineteen when she encounters Josef Diamant at the labor camp and the rest of the story has been told. Gret knows about the hidden passageway under the labor camp, which she and the prisoners use to escape, as Dannecker took her down there once to abuse her; this is why he told her nobody would be able to hear her scream. Their relationship is a painfully complicated one in that, while on some occasions (like in the passageway) he's an absolute brute toward her, even going so far as threatening to target her younger sister, or put her family in his camp if she doesn't obey, on other occasions he comes across almost like a normal, doting father, spoiling her with gifts, fawning over her accomplishments, treating her with actual kindness. Part of this, obviously, is just the typical grooming process. Another part of it, however, is Dannecker's genuine feelings. He DOES love Gret. But it's a very messed-up, twisted-up love in that he doesn't have the same emotional capacity that other people do. He realizes what he does to her is morally wrong but that's not HIS morality, and on some level he does hope she'll come around and willingly become his wife. He's not insane. I don't even think I can call him a pure psychopath/sociopath as he DOES care about her, and his mother Margit, in a way I don't think psychopaths can. But...it's just corrupted and hopelessly messed up. Dannecker isn't capable of normal, healthy love; this is the way he was born, though his mother's actions helped refine it and bring it out. I think he still would've been messed up, and incapable of a healthy relationship, even without what his mother did (she herself sees this dark side of him emerge more than once, and it unsettles her). It's just that he probably wouldn't have ended up continuing the cycle by targeting Gret. Margit just helps cultivate what's already there. I. e., Dannecker was screwed from the start. Result of all this is Gret despises her stepfather and tells Diamant she wants him dead, AND she actively participates in his murder, even taking a trophy--his honor sword (symbolic?)--afterward; yet after the dust has settled, and he's no longer a threat...she realizes, oddly, that she loved him, too. She always refers to him as "Papa," and frequently recalls the loving things he did for her--sure, most of these were just his grooming efforts, to try to win her over--but there was a genuine fatherly moment here and there and she remembers these fondly. There's even this unsettling scene, where Gret, by now aiding in the plot on Dannecker's life, asks him to take her back down to the hidden passageway where he did such awful things to her; he's actually surprised that she'd ask this (indicating that he's aware of how he hurt her), yet agrees. It's for reconnaissance reasons, but still, a harrowing--and confusing--experience. This has been edited (mostly text omission but a word change or two, as well) for obvious reasons; I'm going to eschew my typical ellipses, as they seem too suggestive. This was written before the plot point with Dannecker's mother developed, BTW. She was skilled at readying herself relatively quickly, washing herself up and restyling her hair into its two customary long blond braids which her stepfather loved so much, putting on her undergarments, choosing her best dress from the closet full of beautiful dresses Dannecker had bought for her. She knew he liked the black dress the most, the way it complemented his SS uniform, drawing looks from both inmates and guards as they'd walk across the prison grounds. He was a lot like a vain cockerel puffing itself up as it paraded around its prize hen, she mused, and this thought gave her a tiny spiteful tang of delight as she hurried to slip the dress on and tie herself into it. Shiny black boots much like his own, and black bows on her braids, joined it, and with a final glance at herself in her mirror, she headed for the breakfast table. Her mother, younger brothers, younger sister, stepfather all glanced at her as she entered; her mother and the older of her two brothers looked pensive, while Dannecker beamed even brighter than her mother had earlier, and she knew her ruse had worked; his vanity about his beloved camp and his position in it were his weak spot. "Come, sit beside your papa," he said, patting an empty chair, and she obeyed. The rest of breakfast went relatively normally, Gret eating silently as the others chattered, though under the table, her stepfather clasped her hand in his own, caressing her fingers. Dannecker didn't follow the standard practice of a commandant living at his camp, she wasn't sure why, perhaps because of his family; she suspected he'd live there if not for them. Obviously someone higher up had granted an exception. His camp had never had any major incidents, his inmates and guards were well behaved, so perhaps this earned him some leniency. Every day he took a shiny black chauffeured car to the camp and today was no exception; they were allowed to drive within the main gate and slightly into the yard itself, where Dannecker would exit, taking hold of Gret's hand to help her step out and avoid muddying her boots and dress. She would loop her arm about his and he would walk her toward the main building as if she were his prize. They were always greeted politely by the adjutant and the other guards and the kapo if he were assisting Dannecker that day; Gret always greeted them politely back. On their way across the yard, she would also surreptitiously peer toward the inmates, see if any were paying especial attention. She spotted him off to the left and somewhat toward the back today, the Jew prisoner whose plan she'd seized onto as her potential salvation. His eyes met hers for just a fraction of a second and that was the extent of it: Gret averted her stare, looked toward the ground, ignored the dull business talk of the adjutant as they passed inside the building and headed to Dannecker's office. It was a large, well-appointed office, yet she hated it, everything it had come to represent, especially the ornate wooden desk. She could tell from the furtive glances he cast her now and then that he was thinking similar things and probably would have loved nothing more than to indulge right then, but his adjutant was still talking, and the kapo stood at the back of the room with his head lowered respectfully. "This is really that important...?" Dannecker asked just as Gret came out of her thoughts; when the adjutant nodded a bit meekly (Dannecker's temper was well known everywhere, Gret mused), he sighed and stepped away from his desk. "Have to take care of a little business first, dear Gret, then we can go on our tour, ja?" She nodded. "Schindel will get you anything you need." He gestured and he and the adjutant left the office, the door going almost shut behind them. The room grew quiet although she could hear distant voices in other parts of the building. "There is anything you want, Fräulein...?" someone asked softly, and she glanced up to see the kapo peering at her. She shook her head. "Nein, danke, Herr Schindel." He bobbed his head, shifted his gaze to the side, said nothing else. Gret tried not to think about the camp too much but the position of the kapo had always struck her in particular, someone having to do such odious things, and feign that everything was fine, just to survive. It seemed far too familiar. She didn't doubt he'd been on the receiving end of her stepfather's torments more than once, though there was no way she could speak to him about it. Although it made her feel ill at ease, she went to sit in Dannecker's chair; she kept herself perched on the edge of it and tried not to think too much about him sitting in it. Everything in the office seemed to have a hidden connotation that made her insides clench unpleasantly, even some of the decorative items on the shelves. Oddly, the only neutral thing was the room just off the office, behind his desk; she knew this was meant as his personal quarters, where he was intended to sleep and easily be called on if there were any trouble in the camp, yet it was mostly empty, devoid even of a bed or cot, with just a few items for storage. It was dark and secluded and the perfect place for him to attack her savagely whenever he wished with no repercussions yet for some odd reason he never had. She suspected that the room was too private, too intended for that purpose, for him to get off on using it. As if in response to her thoughts, the office door swung open and Gret jumped. Dannecker smiled and gestured; she obediently stood. "Come now, pretty, we can take our tour." He glanced at Schindel. "We'll be looking around the camp for a while, maybe an hour or so. Let anyone who might stop by know that I'm not to be sought out or disturbed until I return, ja? Unless it's an emergency." "Ja, Herr Kommandant." "Let's go." Gret slipped silently out of the room as Schindel watched and she had the sudden dim wonder, did he know...? Did he suspect...? Dannecker looped his arm around hers and they headed up the hallway, footsteps echoing as they drew further away from all the business going on elsewhere in the building. She peered up at him, once only; he looked back down at her and gave that smile again, that smile that looked so kind and indulgent to anyone else who looked at him and saw a good father, but which to her was snakelike and menacing and reminded her of something far different from a good father. She didn't look at him again and as far as she could tell he didn't look at her, though she knew he must be thinking of all the prospects that were open right now, prospects that she was willingly walking into. She briefly remembered her real father, who'd never been particularly attentive or doting toward her the way Dannecker was, yet he'd never done any of the other things her stepfather did, either. Although not especially loving or affectionate, her father had definitely been attentive to her mother, if the four living children, and several miscarried and one stillborn one, were any indication. "Here we are, pretty Gret." Dannecker slowed his step, letting go of Gret's arm and reaching for his belt. She felt the tiniest twinge of panic even though all he did was remove a large keyring and approach a tapestry hanging on the wall before them. He nudged it aside and inserted a key into a hole that was barely visible; a dull thunk sounded when he turned it and then removed it. The hidden door was heavy and unwieldy, and he had to push at it with his shoulder to get it to obey; when it cracked open he gestured her forward. She slipped past him through the narrow space, trying to avoid touching though she brushed against the front of his uniform anyway; she felt her face grow hot and her insides twist again, but he didn't react, just pushed the large door shut and locked it again before returning the keyring to his belt. Another gesture, and they fell into step with each other, descending the slight slope into the passage. The air grew damp and cool the further they went; they approached the place where he'd first shoved her against the wall, and Gret felt her body start to shake, her heart thudding in her throat. Suddenly, the Jew prisoner's plan didn't seem worth it anymore; nothing was worth being down here again, alone with him, no one knowing where they were and no one able to hear them if they made any noise. She wished more than anything to be back on the surface, to just keep accepting him because at least that was more tolerable than being here. She fully expected him to notice her trembling, to deliberately misinterpret it, to offer that oily smile; yet the most surreptitious glance at his face showed he wasn't even looking at her, was staring at the passage ahead and seemed more pensive and distracted than anything. Although she dreaded any sort of interaction with him--one could never tell what might set him off--she murmured meekly, "Something is wrong, Papa...?" "Nein," Dannecker said. "Nothing for you to think about. Here..." He slowed to a stop, gesturing at the intersection at which they'd arrived, the passage continuing ahead but also left and right. "This way"--he gestured right--"is a dead end, a room with some storage at the end. This"--gesturing left--"leads under the west side of the yard. Ahead continues to the edge of the camp. Which way would you like to go?" "A...ahead, Papa." She peered at the darkness ahead, envisioning him dragging her within like some feral monster with her unable to see him. He reached up just after they stepped into the hallway and dim light surrounded them, from an old dingy bulb hanging from the ceiling. Gret let out a breath; this part of the tunnel was smaller, narrower, than before. "You're nervous?" She nearly jumped, glancing up at him; she hadn't expected him to talk. "You're holding my arm rather tight," he added, and she hurried to loosen her grip, taking a step back for good measure, as she'd been almost pressed to his side. This bizarre muddle of actions and reactions--all of it stemming from a father who acted very little like a father--was bewildering. Although she'd never been close to her real father, she certainly longed for him now, to clutch his arm instead, have him protect her from the monster who was currently protecting her. "S...sorry, Papa," she whispered. Dannecker turned away, making a noncommittal noise. "Hold my arm all you like, there's nothing dangerous down here, though. Damp and mold and spiders is all." You can scream and scream as much as you like... She made herself keep holding his arm, since he might get angry if she let go, though she kept her grasp loose. Something far more dangerous than a spider was down here, right here with her, yet Dannecker's voice and expression remained neutral, oddly disinterested. So you can see Gret's confusion, longing for the protection of a distant, absent father, being protected by the very person she usually needs protecting from. She loves him, and she hates him. She doesn't take his honor sword merely as a trophy, a sign that he has no power or threat over her anymore. She also takes it as a reminder of his protection, literally using it to defend herself as he's no longer there to protect her from everything but himself. Yeah, it's confusing, as I imagine it'd be for anyone who's been victimized by someone they love and who's supposed to love them. It takes Gret a very long time to work through her feelings; it's easier to just shut them off most of the time. (This is the reason the other characters view her as cold and uppity--the man she later ends up with, Lukas Mettbach, at first refers to her as "Nazi b*tch," misinterpreting her aloofness and her similarities to her stepfather (she often dresses in black, wears shiny black boots, goosesteps a bit when she walks, and parrots Nazi tropes while collecting Nazi memorabilia) as blind devotion to him and his ideals.) (All this is even further complicated by her mother, Else's, reaction when Gret tries to get in touch with her after the war. Else truly loved Dannecker, seeing him as having rescued her and her children from a potential life of poverty following her husband's death in combat; she has no idea how he never cared for her at all, frequently calling her a "fat old cow" behind her back. She's infuriated with Gret for taking her beloved Ernst away from her; she refuses to believe Gret's account of Dannecker's abuse, and even when Gret's brother Christof reveals to her that he himself witnessed it, she insists Gret must have seduced her stepfather. She disowns Gret, and dies never having forgiven her; ironically, the woman Dannecker admitted to Gret he could barely even stand to touch is the one person to really grieve for him when he's gone. Gret's two other siblings also pretty much turn their backs on her, making her doubt her own perceptions; only Christof, who helped her out after she escaped into the Diamond Network, shows her any sympathy.) Dannecker went through a similar experience himself, with his mother, Margit. He, too, is very confused. This is the part of the story that emerged most recently and I touched on it in Isaak Schindel's entry. Margit is married to Walther; they're a decent upper middle-class family, and she dotes on their lone child, Ernst. Ernst is a rather willowy, shrimpy kid, physically awkward and easily cowed, the sort who would get beaten up frequently under normal circumstances. The thing is that Ernst has a mean streak; it doesn't come out often, but it does peek its head out just enough for his classmates to leave him alone. He makes no friends, but then again he doesn't want any. He's cold and aloof and keeps to himself. At home, his father is stiff and formal, a bit distant, but his mother lavishes him with love and attention. He's the center of her life. Walther finds her attention to him to be a bit offputting--he thinks Ernst needs to toughen up some--but he has no real reason to suspect anything's amiss, especially since Ernst doesn't respond much to Margit's affection. That changes one night when she visits his room at an awkward moment. He's embarrassed, but she tells him not to be, it's just natural. And maybe it is, but what she does afterward isn't. I'm not sure of Ernst's age, but yes, he's underaged. And a one-time thing becomes an ongoing thing. The situation confuses him at first but his own mother says it's normal--she went through it with her father when she was young, and if Ernst ever has a daughter, she tells him, perhaps he'll do the same. So Margit's coming from a nasty background herself, and just continuing a cycle she was taught to normalize. And her son follows along, because it's his mother, of course she knows better than he does. They have to keep it secret from his father as she had to keep it secret from her mother, but that's just the way of things. Nobody else would understand the connection they share. (At least that's how Margit puts it.) Ernst quickly latches on to the relationship with his mother in a way he never did before, seeming to become almost addicted to it. Margit sometimes has to coax him into calming himself down or being patient, he's so impulsive and starved for her attention. She sees the first hints of malice lurking beneath the surface whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's generally quite obedient to her, as long as she keeps a soft sweet placating demeanor and promises to reward him later on. For quite some time, this is how things go, until one day Walther catches them together. Of course he's aghast--he knew something inappropriate was going on, just not THIS inappropriate. He starts yelling, Margit starts yelling--the only one not yelling is Ernst, who just watches the two screaming back and forth. It doesn't get through to him the exact import of his father's words: "How could you do this to him?--your own son!" Even through all his disgust, Walther rightly sees Ernst as a victim, but it's a thought neither of the others shares--they both fully believe they share some sort of sacred love. He finally yells for Ernst to get out and go to his room--Ernst refuses to go until Margit tells him to--and once he's there, Walther locks him in and keeps the key from Margit. After some further arguing he figures out this has been going on for years. He vows that this is the end of such "degenerate" behavior, and the next day they're going to address it head on. He goes to call somebody on the phone and makes some sort of arrangements; then pulls Margit away from Ernst's door, threatens her to knock it off, and orders her back to their room. He himself stays in the hallway and prevents her from heading to Ernst's room again. The rest of the night passes in this uneasy stalemate, but as soon as morning comes, Walther unlocks Ernst's room and orders him to wash up and pack--"A few changes of clothes, toiletries. Pack! Now!" Walther's never been so livid, so Ernst obeys, while Margit hovers outside, begging to know what's going on. Walther refuses to answer, orders Ernst out to the car; Margit insists on going along, and Walther doesn't argue. He still doesn't answer any questions, either; though when he drives them to the railway station, the other two have figured out he means business. Walther purchases a single one-way ticket, steers Ernst toward the platform, Margit on their heels, pleading. The train arrives not long after, and based on its next intended destination, Margit figures out where it must be headed. "The military academy?" she cries, and pleads with Walther--Ernst isn't made for military life, not her boy, he's no soldier. Indeed, though he's grown somewhat by now--he's about sixteen--Ernst is still shy and awkward and gangly, all arms and legs, and has never shown any militant propensities--he just wants to stay with his mother. Walther is undeterred, however: "Maybe there, they'll raise him right. Unlike in our house!" The train stops, the conductor opens the doors and starts calling for passengers; Walther grabs Ernst's arm and hauls him forward. Ernst finally protests, calling for Margit, and she calls him back, while still pleading with Walther; the three raise such a commotion that faces start peering curiously out the train car windows. When Ernst refuses to board the train, Walther first threatens to thrash him; then, when that doesn't work, he hisses, "If you don't get on now, I promise you you'll never see your mother again." That threat works; Ernst glowers, but takes his bag and ticket and gets on the train. The doors close and he hurries to the window to look out; Margit sees him, yells his name, runs after the train a bit as it starts to move, then collapses on the platform, sobbing. Behind Ernst, one of the other teenage boys occupying the car murmurs, "Muttersöhnchen"--"Mama's boy." Everyone else chuckles. Ernst shoots the other boy a livid glare, but just as quickly looks back out the window, and doesn't stop until his mother is out of sight. The conductor arrives to ask for tickets, and everyone loses interest in joking; Ernst sits down at last to gloomily await his arrival at the academy. Margit, meanwhile, is ordered back in the car--"If you don't get in, I'll leave you here," Walther vows--and they head home. From that point on, things are very strained. Margit refuses to even talk to her husband for a good long while, and when she does it's to rebuke him for abandoning "my boy." She definitely doesn't share a bed with him anymore. When a letter from Ernst arrives from the academy, Walther intercepts it, reads it, is infuriated all over again; even being away from home, Ernst's attitude toward his mother hasn't changed, and Margit's attitude hasn't changed, either. Walther tears the "vile" letter up and throws it away, though Margit manages to fetch it out, put it back together, and read her son's profession of his feelings for her. Walther manages to keep any other letters from getting through, so she doesn't get to hear from him for the next couple of years or so. And then, the Great War begins. The dreadful news comes: Those at the military academy who are of age will be sent off to the Western Front. Margit doesn't even get the chance to see her Ernst one more time before he's sent off to fight. She breaks down sobbing, and spends the next several years in utter torment; Walther doesn't have to intercept letters anymore, as Ernst doesn't send any. The army sends no notice that anything's happened to Ernst, but this isn't much of a comfort to Margit, who slips into a deep depression. She largely ignores Walther, who sticks by her nonetheless; he still dimly hopes this is what's best for their son, though he hadn't counted on a war breaking out. He's admittedly anxious about Ernst, as well. A letter at last arrives shortly before the armistice is declared: Ernst Dannecker has been wounded, but not seriously; he'll be coming home. The Danneckers arrive at the railway station to wait. Margit cranes her neck and anxiously watches everyone who disembarks, looking for her boy. It's only after most of the passengers have already gotten off that a young man climbs off with his bag, keeping his arm pressed close to his side; he doesn't really catch Margit's attention aside from the fact that he's wearing a military uniform. She looks at him until he finishes fiddling with his luggage, stands straight, then just happens to look in her direction--and freezes. The two of them stare at each other; Margit is confused, she was waiting for her gangly awkward boy, yet this is a tall, well-built man. But there's no mistaking those eyes, or the way he looks at her. It's been several years, after all. Of course her Ernst is all grown up now. The three head home; Dannecker has a wound to his side but it isn't too bad. Nonetheless, his mother fawns over him, repeatedly exclaiming over how much he's changed--maybe serving in the army wasn't such a bad idea. Dannecker is both taller and more fit than his father now, and when the two of them look at each other, it's very awkward; Walther has to avert his eyes, as Dannecker can be intimidating with merely a glance, now. They sit for dinner, talk a little, then retire to the parlor for drinks, talk some more. After a while Walther starts to nod off, finally slumping in his chair, snoring. Margit catches Dannecker's attention--she's holding a little bottle. She slipped something in Walther's drink to knock him out. The two of them smile at each other, then leave the room together. All that time away in the military didn't change everything; Dannecker is still his mother's boy. The two of them aren't as subtle about it as they used to be, mostly because Walther doesn't have much leverage over his son anymore--all Dannecker has to do is look at him and he realizes he stands no chance in a fight. He really has no choice but to put up with it. Dannecker, meanwhile, moves up in the world; when a paramilitary organization called the Schutzstaffel forms, it looks to be exactly what he's interested in; he resigns his military post to join, and is assigned to a camp as a guard. Margit proudly irons his new uniform and polishes all the shiny bits like a good obedient wife; Walther chafes but does nothing. Dannecker quickly earns a reputation in the camp. He'd already told his mother of some of the things he did at the front, including his behavior toward the women; Margit finds it distasteful but obviously he did such things only because he had to, growing boys have needs after all. He seemed anxious that she'd be angry, yet she isn't. This is another peek at the darkness lurking beneath the surface, however, and his job in the camp just seems to bring it out even more. There's one especially nasty incident in which a Jewish prisoner, seeing Dannecker approaching, turns and runs straight at the fence, electrocuting himself; it turns out he'd had a run-in with Dannecker while they served at the front. It also turns out they'd had an interaction before that, when he'd so casually called Dannecker "mama's boy." Dannecker has a very long memory when it comes to perceived offenses, and is more than willing to act on them. Which puts his own father directly in his sights: Despite how well it may have turned out for him personally, he still resents Walther for separating him from Margit all those years. Walther has good reason to avert his eyes. I'm not sure what it is, but one day something sets Walther off, makes him lose his temper; maybe he catches them together in his own bed. Whatever it is, he snaps and starts screaming at them like the first time, except this time he no longer considers Dannecker a victim--he's a rival now, going along with it willingly. Again, Dannecker refuses to leave when Walther yells at him to, and only a soft word from Margit makes him obey; he glowers at Walther as he passes, a glare much like the one he gave the young man who called him "mama's boy." Walther ignores the implication, and continues arguing with Margit; this is it, he insists--Dannecker will have to move out. When Margit says she'll simply go along with him, Walther replies, well then, he's going to make a call tomorrow, and inform Dannecker's superior officers of exactly what's going on. Given the SS and their rules and regulations, there's no way they'll permit such "degenerate" behavior to continue unchecked--Dannecker will surely lose his position in the SS-Totenkopfverbände, and face possible punishment, as well. Margit has no response for this, as she knows it's true; Walther says he's going to sleep on the couch, and they'll pick this up in the morning. He exits, and Margit sits in the bed crying until she falls asleep. Walther doesn't know that after he left the room, Dannecker didn't retreat to his own bedroom as he did when he was a boy; he listened to the entire conversation. After Walther falls asleep on the couch, he slips into the room silently and approaches. Walther wakes abruptly when Dannecker makes a small sound, and blinks up at his silhouette in the dimness, mumbling, "Ernst?"--right before Dannecker shoves a pillow down over his face. Walther fights back as much as he's able, but his own son is a lot stronger than he is now, thanks to all that training Walther sent him off to, and it isn't long before his motions grow weaker and slower and then he falls still, going limp. Dannecker continues pressing the pillow over his face for a few moments more until he's sure the job is done--like I said, he's very patient when he sets his eyes on a target--then he carefully lifts it and sets it aside, damp side hidden. He closes Walther's eyes, repositions his sprawled limbs, and draws the blanket back up to look like he's still merely sleeping, before heading back to his own room. He falls asleep easily. Early in the morning, Margit wakes, gets out his uniform, iron and shine, makes him a quick breakfast. Glances at her husband still sleeping on the couch but doesn't disturb him as she doesn't want to deal with him right now. Dannecker gives her a small kiss before he leaves--they look and act just like mother and son, nothing untoward, though once he's gone she agonizes over what they're going to do next. She can't bear to be separated from her boy, yet she can't endanger his job. She grows more anxious as the morning goes on, no solutions coming to mind; all she can think of is divorce, though Walther is unlikely to let her go without a fight. It finally occurs to her that it's almost noon and he hasn't awakened yet; she at last goes to rouse him, steeling herself for an altercation. He doesn't respond to her voice, not even to her gently shaking his arm; growing concerned, she tries to turn him toward her. Then gasps and recoils--his skin is cold, eyes half closed, mouth slack, a bluish tinge to his lips. Margit shrieks and heads for the phone--she tells the operator to call the camp, and begs to speak with Dannecker. When he's at last put on the phone he has to order her to calm down, she's grown so hysterical. She manages to tell him she's found Walther no longer breathing--apparently a heart attack, she has no other idea what to think--and she needs Dannecker there. He promises to come as soon as he can, and ends the call. Margit takes a moment to try to settle herself before it occurs to her how calm Dannecker himself was throughout the exchange, not raising his voice even once as she cried and babbled over the phone; something compels her to go look at Walther again. She can hardly bear it, yet she looks him over without touching him--nothing amiss--but she notices the pillow sitting against the back of the couch, atop Walther's leg--something about it seems off. She gingerly picks it up, turns it over. The other side is damp. Margit immediately drops it back where she found it, full of dread. She tries to tell herself it can't be what it's starting to look like. Dannecker arrives with an SS doctor in tow; he looks Walther over, confirms his death (obviously), but seems puzzled when Margit suggests a heart attack; she admits he has no history of heart issues, yet what else could it be? The physician replies that Walther's eyes have tiny hemorrhages in them: a sign of suffocation. The dread rises even higher in Margit's breast; yet the doctor says perhaps he choked on something in his sleep, and calls a team to collect Walther's body and take him away for autopsy. He expresses his condolences and they all depart, leaving Dannecker and Margit behind. Dannecker comforts Margit as she cries and remembers how poor her last exchange with Walther was; the comments he makes in response start out sympathetic, but slowly grow more resentful. Margit picks up on this and the dread seeps back; when Dannecker outright says, "He asked for this, keeping you away from me," Margit looks up at him and finally whispers, "Ernst...don't tell me you...?" He doesn't even deny it, just repeats that Walther was the one keeping them apart, of course he had to act. He seems genuinely confused when Margit reacts with horror--"Ernst! He's your father! I didn't mean THAT [you should kill him]...!"--though the more she protests that she didn't want him to do this, the more the perplexed look on his face changes; his eyes grow dark, his mouth turns down. The ugly malice just under the surface peeks out--this time, it's directed right at her. And for the first time, Margit is afraid of her own son, as she knows exactly what he's capable of--he told her himself. As horrifying as his own actions are, as much as she didn't want him to do this, she realizes she can't afford to cross him as he could do the same to her. She immediately changes tack, brings out her soft sweet placating voice, touching his arm and pressing close and calling him her boy, promising that they'll stick to the story Walther must have choked in his sleep and they're the proper mourning wife and son. Anything to protect his position. She's terrified of getting on his bad side, but just as when he was a teenager, the tactic works; the malice fades from his eyes, the tension leaves his muscles, slowly her sweet loving boy returns. He agrees to go along with her plan. Margit now knows exactly where she stands: Dannecker can, and will, turn on her as quickly and easily as he's turned on everyone else who's wronged him, if she sets him off. He won't give her a pass simply because she's his mother and his lover. This is something she never counted on dealing with; she's never come across anything like this. She knows there's something fundamentally wrong and broken inside "her sweet boy" and no amount of her love and affection, however twisted, can fix it. She's walking through a field of landmines same as everyone else, and she acts accordingly, being extra careful to remain in Dannecker's good graces. She likely won't get any second chance. Fortunately for Margit, she's good at what she does. She and Dannecker convincingly play the roles of devoted wife and son in grieving; Walther's death is perfunctorily investigated by the Allgemeine-SS, then the file is quietly closed and life goes on. Dannecker and Margit continue living in the same house and now freely share each other's bed. (They aren't aware that the Allgemeine-SS never COMPLETELY shuts down its observation--they've picked up that something is off, but don't have enough to act on, and their chief, Col. Heidenreich, advises them to tread softly to avoid a scandal.) Margit continues keeping house as if tending to her husband, even while gently prodding Dannecker once in a while that he should look into starting a family of his own, as the SS requires. Dannecker resists the advice--she's all he wants, there is nobody else. And it's true--he's never cared about anyone else in his life but her. It isn't love the way normal people feel it, but it's the closest his broken psyche can experience, and he feels it only for her. He doesn't want to get married, to be with any other woman, to start a family, if it isn't with her. Margit knows this is impossible--she never had a family with her father, for example--yet is sure not to push too hard lest she set him off. There's plenty of time to change his mind. Except, as it turns out, there isn't. I think this occurs shortly before Dannecker is promoted and sent to watch over his own camp, though I'm not 100% sure. Margit faints one day and falls while Dannecker is at work; he nearly panics when he returns home and finds her on the floor. She insists she's all right, just tired--she's been fatigued lately--but with this, and the nasty bruise she's suffered, he doesn't even need convincing, he calls a physician. Margit is taken to hospital for tests and observation. After a while, a doctor appears with a sorrowful look and bad news: Blood cancer. This is the late 1930s/early 1940s; there's no effective treatment for leukemia yet. No matter how much Dannecker protests, and then threatens, that they need to try more, there's nothing much they can do, aside from trying to keep her comfortable and manage her symptoms. Dannecker's not used to his demands being refused; Margit has to calm him down so he doesn't target the doctor. She tries to keep her head for her son's sake, though when they're alone she fights not to break down, crying, "I'm afraid, Ernst." Although obviously just as rattled by this news, he comforts her again, promising to stay by her no matter what--she's his mother, his love, after all. Margit rapidly declines; the disease is fast acting, aggressive. The morphine keeps her in a stupor much of the time, during which Dannecker forces himself to return to work, though when she wakes he's there to hold her hand and stroke her hair. The hospital staff take note of their odd closeness, but say nothing. One day in a moment of painful lucidity, Margit finally does break down: "I can't bear you seeing me like this, Ernst. I don't want your last thought of me being a shriveled little shell in this bed. I want you remembering me how I was." Dannecker insists he doesn't care how she looks, but she grows more and more adamant; she doesn't want to go this way. And then, meekly, she broaches the subject: "My Ernst, isn't there...isn't there something you can do...?" This is Nazi Germany, and Dannecker is in the SS. He works in a camp. The Nazis have ways of dealing with people they deem a burden on society, "life unworthy of life"--and among these are the physically infirm, the terminally ill. People like Margit. Euthanasia, as it's so optimistically called, is legal. Dannecker knows immediately what his mother is asking of him as he's helped oversee the termination of countless unworthy lives himself. He pales, then grips Margit's hands harder and insists, "Mama, you don't mean it. That's just your sadness talking. There are other things we can do." She insists, though--the doctors have said there are no other options, and she doesn't want to suffer to the very end: "Bitte, my Ernst, you can't let me, you must be able to help me." She grows more strident and despondent the more he tries to talk her out of it and at last he realizes there will be no changing her mind; for once she stands firm against his pleas. And eventually he stops arguing. She can tell from the look on his face that her decision crushes him inside yet he calls the doctor back to consult with him. The doctor comes to talk with the two. Margit knows of the SS's euthanasia programs but something she ISN'T aware of is the exact method used--what the Nazis call "euthanasia" isn't really a "good death" at all for most people. So no, Dannecker can't offer her this option himself, unless she wants to go in the gas chamber. The doctor is sympathetic and suggests a drug overdose--done properly it'll be like drifting to sleep. Margit jumps at the idea; Dannecker isn't happy, but doesn't object. After making absolutely sure this is what she wants, and having her sign the proper forms with Dannecker as witness, he brings in the proper equipment and administers the drug, then retreats a bit so Dannecker and Margit can sit together and wait. The two stare at each other while Dannecker clasps Margit's hand and she strokes his face, smiling and murmuring, "My sweet boy." Her voice and motions start to slow down though she does manage to tell him, "I'll always be there for you...I'll never leave you," before her eyes drift closed and she dozes off. After a little while longer, her breathing stops. Dannecker puts his head to her chest but can't hear anything; the doctor returns to check her vitals, finds that her pulse has stopped. He tells Dannecker the news though it's obvious already. Dannecker just stares mutely at his mother, his eyes wet. It's probably the first and only time he's ever cried over anyone. Life goes on, though it's dull and tedious with an empty bed and no one there to greet him when he returns home, no one who "gets" him the way only Margit did. He gets a shiny new post as commandant of his own labor camp and moves into a nice big house nearby but even that doesn't do much to assuage the hurt, which is a really strange emotion he's not used to feeling. Then while walking down the sidewalk one day, in a bit of a hurry, he rounds a corner without watching where he's going and slams into somebody else who's also walking too fast and not watching where they're going. The other person drops their grocery bag; Dannecker drops, period, losing his balance and hitting the ground. He angrily snaps, "Watch where you're--!" before his eyes lock on somebody standing several feet away--a young girl, petite, in a long dress, with long blond braids and big blue eyes. The two of them stare at each other in silence as the woman Dannecker had run into hurries to pick up his own scattered items and help him up, apologizing profusely. A few other children, two boys and a younger girl, also stand to the side, but it's the oldest one Dannecker can't stop staring at. She's the spitting image of a much younger version of his mother. He finally notices the older, frumpier woman trying to assist and placate him--obviously his SS uniform has her rattled, and she's terribly apologetic, taking the blame for his fall, retrieving his belongings before seeing to her own. He pushes himself up, dusts himself off, takes back his papers, grumbles for her to watch where she's going from now on; she thanks him repeatedly for his leniency, collects her scattered groceries, urges her children to come along now, she's so sorry, so sorry. Dannecker and the teenaged girl continue staring at each other as the little family passes by. She even glances back at him while they're walking off before turning away. Dannecker can't stop staring after her. He's distracted all that day, returns home at night, lies in bed staring at the ceiling. Murmurs softly, "Is it a sign? Is it you...?" He's not religious or spiritual whatsoever...but those braids, those eyes, that face. Margit had promised she'd never leave him. Is this her? Has she come back to him? He knows that was not literally his mother...but just maybe, his mother sent her to him. It must be a sign. Dannecker has connections, and he's patient and perseverant. He does some asking around, some digging. Finds out the frumpy woman's name is Else, and her older daughter's name is Margarethe. "Margarethe," Dannecker whispers to himself; even her name is like his mother's. This is all the proof he needs that the two of them are meant to be. Margit had told him, after all, that one day he should have his own family, and hopefully his own daughter, to carry on what Margit had taught him and what her father had taught her. He's never been interested in starting a family, yet here is one ready made for him. He has a new pet project. When he learns Else is a widow, he starts making his plans to win her over. He's not interested in her in the least--Gret is the one his heart is set on. He's willing to do whatever it takes to get her, and eventually, he does. Here's Dannecker's entry, somewhat outdated but the rest of his story. Here's Gret's. Dannecker fulfills his mother's vow that the cycle of abuse would continue with him as the perpetrator and Gret as the next in a line of victims, including himself and Margit, that goes back who even knows how far. Gret, however, finishes the cycle, by participating in his murder--the abuse ends with her. It's a bit ironic, though, that she DOES repeat her stepfather's behavior: He murdered his own father as well. So although she manages to break free of the abuse itself, she doesn't ENTIRELY free herself of his influence over her. She carries his sword as a weapon of defense...but it's still also a symbol of the man who should have protected her unconditionally, yet ended up hurting her most of all. [Margit Dannecker 2023 [Friday, February 17, 2023, 3:00:10 AM]] |