A change came over the Jews when Fat Man and his boys showed up and it was not for the better. Apparently they had a bit of a reputation in the local Jewish community.
One of the junior Rabbis who had just finished getting processing with the last batch that had come in got excited when he saw them arrive. He proceeded to get in the SD officers face, raising his voice and gesturing excitedly towards the Fat Man who just smiled smugly back at him. The SD officer stood there listening, a half smile on his face, to the tirade until a bit of spittle flew into his face from the rapidly moving mouth of the junior Rabbi. The Major raised his hand and using his index finger slowly wiped the spittle from his face. I watched as he looked at his finger in disbelief, the expression on his face rapidly turning to disgust.
He dropped his hand to his riding breeches and slowly wiped the offending moisture off his finger. The Jew was oblivious to all this as he continued to spew a torrent of heavily accented German. The SD officer’s hand, done with wiping, moved up to his holster and undid the leather flap. He lifted the Luger, slowly easing it out of his holster, the black machined metal clearing the leather as the Jew finished. He stared triumphantly at the SD officer, sure that his oratory skills had straightened out the problem.
The SD officer raised the Luger until it was about an inch below the Jews chin, and pointed at a forty five degree angle. Then he pulled the trigger. That was not the preferred method for close in head shots but he was obviously irate and let his anger override his form. The barrel blast set fire to the Jews beard while the bullet existed out of the back of his head spraying brains, hair, and part of his felt hat over the group of Jews sitting behind him. For a second he stood there, the shot reverberating in the marketplace punctuated by the sounds of pigeons taking flight. Then the Rabbi dropped like a sack of oats to the ground, his black beard smoking.
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