When von Gilsa called me to his office two days later, he looked preoccupied. “What’s going on, Herr Oberst?” I asked him. He showed me a line on his large wall map: “Generaloberst von Mackensen’s Panzers have stopped advancing. The Soviet resistance has dug itself in in front of Ordzhonikidze, and it’s already snowing down there. But we’re just seven kilometers away from the city.” His eyes followed the long blue line that snaked along and then rose up to vanish in the sands of the Kalmuk Steppe. “They’re stuck in Stalingrad too. Our troops are worn out. If the OKH doesn’t send reinforcements soon we’ll spend the winter here.” I didn’t say anything and he changed the subject. “Were you able to look at the problem of those Bergjuden?” I explained to him that according to our documentation they had to be considered Jews. “Our experts seem to believe the opposite,” he replied. “And Dr. Bräutigam too. General Köstring suggests we call a meeting about this tomorrow, in Voroshilovsk; he wants the SS and the SP to be represented.”—“Fine. I will inform the Oberführer.” I telephoned Bierkamp, who asked me to come; he too would attend the meeting. I went up to Voroshilovsk with von Gilsa. The sky was overcast, gray but dry; the peaks of the volcanoes disappeared into shifting, wild, capricious, nebulous whorls. Von Gilsa was in a glum mood and was brooding over his pessimism of the day before. An assault had just failed again. “The front won’t move anymore, I think.” He was also very worried about Stalingrad: “Our flanks are very vulnerable. Our allied troops are really second-rate, and the corsetting doesn’t help much. If the Soviets try to pull off something big, they’ll collapse. In that case, the position of the Sixth Army could be weakened fast.”—“You don’t really think, though, that the Russians still have the reserves necessary for an offensive? Their losses in Stalingrad are enormous, and they’re throwing in everything they have just to hold the city.”—“No one really knows what the state of the Soviet reserves is,” he replied. “Since the beginning of the war, we’ve been underestimating them. Why wouldn’t we have underestimated them again here?”

The meeting was held in a conference room of the OKHG. Köstring had come with his aide-de-camp, Hans von Bittenfeld, and two officers of Berück von Roques’s staff. Also present were Bräutigam and an officer from the Abwehr attached to the OKHG. Bierkamp had brought Leetsch and an adjunct of Korsemann’s. Köstring opened the meeting by recalling the principles of the regime of military administration in the Caucasus and of self-governance. “The peoples who have welcomed us as liberators and accept our benevolent supervision know their enemies well,” he concluded in a slow, knowing tone. “Therefore, we should know how to listen to them.”—“From the Abwehr’s standpoint,” von Gilsa explained, “it’s a purely objective question of the security of the rear areas. If these Bergjuden cause disturbances, hide saboteurs, or help partisans, then we have to treat them like any enemy group. But if they keep quiet, there’s no reason to provoke the other tribes by comprehensive repressive measures.”—“For my part,” Bräutigam said in his slightly nasal voice, “I think we have to consider the internal relations of the Caucasian peoples as a whole. Do the mountain tribes regard these Bergjuden as belonging to them, or do they reject them as Fremdkörper? The fact that Herr Shadov intervened so vigorously in itself pleads in their favor.”—“Herr Shadov may have, let’s say, political reasons that we don’t understand,” Bierkamp suggested. “I agree with Dr. Bräutigam’s premises, even if I cannot accept the conclusion he draws from them.” He read some extracts from my report, concentrating on the opinion of the Wannsee Institute. “This,” he added, “seems confirmed by all the reports of our Kommandos in the theater of operations of Army Group A. These reports show us that dislike of the Jews is general. The Aktions against the Jews—such as dismissals from public offices, yellow star, forced labor—all meet with full understanding from the general population and are heartily welcomed. Significant voices within the population even find actions so far against the Jews insufficient and demand more determined actions.”—“You are quite right when it comes to the recently settled Russian Jews,” Bräutigam retorted. “But we don’t have the impression that this attitude extends to the so-called Bergjuden, whose presence dates back several centuries at least.” He turned to Köstring: “I have here a copy of a communication to the Auswärtiges Amt from Professor Eiler. According to him, the Bergjuden are of Caucasian, Iranian, and Afghan descent and are not Jews, even if they have adopted the Mosaic religion.”—“Excuse me,” said Noeth, the Abwehr officer from the OKHG, “but where did they receive the Jewish religion from, then?”—“That’s not clear,” Bräutigam replied, tapping on the table with the tip of his pencil. “Maybe from those famous Khazars who converted to Judaism in the eighth century.”—“It isn’t the Bergjuden who converted the Khazars, is it?” Eckhardt, Korsemann’s man, hazarded. Bräutigam raised his hands: “That’s what we have to look into.” The lazy, intelligent, deep voice of Köstring rose again: “Excuse me, but didn’t we have to deal with something like this already in the Crimea?”—“Affirmative, Herr General,” Bierkamp replied in a dry tone. “That was during my predecessor’s time. I think Hauptsturmführer Aue can explain the details to you.”—“Certainly, Oberführer. Besides the case of the Karaïtes, recognized as racially non-Jewish in 1937 by the Ministry of the Interior, a controversy arose in the Crimea concerning the Krimchaks, who represented themselves as a Turkish people that converted to Judaism in recent times. Our specialists conducted an investigation and concluded that they were in fact Italian Jews, come to the Crimea around the fifteenth or sixteenth century and afterward Turkified.”—“And what did we do about it?” Köstring asked.—“They were regarded as Jewish and treated as such, Herr General.”—“I see,” he said suavely.—“If you allow me,” Bierkamp interrupted, “we also had to deal with Bergjuden in the Crimea. It was a Jewish kolkhoz, in the district of Freidorf near Eupatoria. It was inhabited by Bergjuden from Daghestan relocated there in the thirties with the assistance of the JOINT, the well-known international Jewish organization. After investigation, they were all shot in March of this year.”—“That may have been a somewhat premature action,” Bräutigam suggested. “Like the kolkhoz of Bergjuden you liquidated near Mozdok.”—“Oh yes,” Köstring said with the air of a man who has just remembered a minor detail, “were you able to find out about that matter, Oberführer?” Bierkamp replied to Köstring without paying attention to Bräutigam’s remark: “Yes, Herr General. Unfortunately our files contain few clarifications, for in the heat of action during the offensive, when the Sonderkommando had just arrived in Mozdok, some of the actions weren’t accounted for with all the precision we would have liked. According to Sturmbannführer Persterer, Professor Oberländer’s Bergmann Kommando was also very active in that region. It might have been them.”—“That battalion is under our control,” Noeth, the AO, retorted. “We would know.”—“What was the name of the village?” asked Köstring.—“Bogdanovka,” Bräutigam replied, consulting his notes. “According to Herr Shadov, four hundred and twenty villagers were killed and thrown into some wells. They were all clan relations of the Bergjuden of Nalchik, with names like Michiev, Abramov, Shamilyev; their deaths caused a major stir in Nalchik, not just among the Bergjuden but also among the Kabards and the Balkars, who were very upset by it.”—“Unfortunately,” Köstring said coldly, “Oberländer has gone. So we can’t ask him.”—“Of course,” Bierkamp went on, “it is also entirely possible that it was my Kommando. After all, their orders are clear. But I’m not certain.”—“Fine,” Köstring said. “In any case it’s not important. What counts now is to make a decision about the Bergjuden of Nalchik, of whom there are…” He turned to Bräutigam, who said, “Between six and seven thousand.”—“Exactly,” Köstring continued. “A decision, then, that is fair, scientifically based, and finally that takes into account both the security of our rear area”—he inclined his head to Bierkamp—“and our desire to follow a policy of maximum collaboration with the local populations. The opinion of our scientific commission will thus be very important.” Von Bittenfeld leafed through a bundle of papers: “We already have on-site Leutnant Dr. Voss, who despite his youth is a reputed authority in scientific circles in Germany. We are also having an anthropologist or an ethnologist come.”—“For my part,” Bräutigam interrupted, “I have already contacted my ministry. They are sending a specialist from Frankfurt, from the Institute for Jewish Questions. They will also try to have someone from Dr. Walter Frank’s institute in Munich.”—“I have already sought the opinion of the scientific department of the RSHA,” Bierkamp said. “I think I will also ask for an expert. In the meantime, I have entrusted our investigations to Hauptsturmführer Dr. Aue present, who is our specialist in matters concerning the Caucasian peoples.” I politely bowed my head. “Fine, fine,” Köstring approved. In that case, we’ll meet again when the various investigations have come to some conclusions? That will allow us, I hope, to settle this affair. Meine Herren, thank you for coming.” The assembly dispersed with a shuffling of chairs. Bräutigam had taken Köstring aside by the arm and was talking with him. The officers filed out one by one, but Bierkamp stayed there with Leetsch and Eckhardt, his cap in his hand: “They’re pulling out all the stops. We have to find a good specialist too, otherwise we’re going to be sidelined right away.”—“I’ll ask the Brigadeführer,” Eckhardt said. “Maybe in the Reichsführer’s entourage in Vinnitsa we’ll be able to find someone. Otherwise, we’ll have to get him to come from Germany.”