DEATH OF A GERMAN SEAMAN
23
Herald and spread it on the table. In a moment both Slim and the Ham-
burg whores were forgotten.
Everyone was reading the bad news from
the States.
3. Enemies-
"Curly," Hans said to me in the evening, as I was leaving the con-
sulate, "where are you staying tonight
t'
"At the Hyman Warburg Foundation," I said, "the Jewish Im-
migrant house on Rottenburgsort."
"Could I sleep over there tonight?"
There was a worned expression on Hans'
face.
Still I could not
refrain from kidding him.
"What's the matter, Shorty," I asked, "did Lizzie throw you out
?"
"Stop joking, Curly," he replied quietly.
I looked at Hans in amazement.
I never knew him to object
to being kidded.. I looked at Hans and realized that something out of
the ordinary must have happened to him.
~Iy sllspicion wa, confirmed
on our way to the Warburg Foundation.
To go from Alsterdam Strasse to Rottenburgsort,
\\'(' had to pass
through the H
al/pt Bahnhoff.
I always liked the
Bahnhoff.
Next to
St.
Pauli
it was the liveliest place in Hamburg.
As usual, there was a
strong commotioJl inside the
Bohnhoff.
It was crowded to capacity.
In
a corner a middle-aged man was selling the
Volkischer Beobafhter.
"Heil
Hitler," he cried offering the passers-by the newspapers.
Suddenly Hans
stopped dead. For a minute, as though paralyzed, he stood gazing at the
man. "Heil Hitler," the .Jatter cried giving us a paper.
His eyes met
Hans' and the
Vijlkiuhl'r Bfobochter
fell out of his hands.
"Dog," said Hans to the newsdealer, "you too sold yourself."
"I had nothing to eat," the man replied faintly.
"I have nothing to eat too."
"I have a wife and child."
"So you are going to shoot at me?"
The newsdealer was silent.
Hans pulled me by the sleeve and we
went
011.
4. Srhllazel-
When we reached the Foundation it was already dark.
Some of the
men-unemployed German Jews, Jews without a country, deserters from
