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The Bulletin’s Day Book

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When the final report is in on the Nazi-Jewish war in Germany, not the least interesting chapter of it may prove to be the various inconsistencies of the big, brave Nordic warriors.

Some of these inconsistencies are probably attributable to ignorance. It is difficult to imagine, for example, any other reason for Jew-hating Nazis, who have dedicated themselves to the task of wiping every trace of Jewishness out of their lives, submitting meekly first to the Wasserman test and then to the Ehrlich cure for the dreaded venereal disease. A 100 per cent Nazi, if he knew that those two scientists were Jews, would assuredly rather rot from the disease than submit to a Jewish treatment for it.

An even more surprising inconsistency, surprising since in this instance the instinct for self-preservation is not among the influencing factors, is tied up with the songs that Nazis are encouraged to sing.

Recently an attempt was made to broadcast throughout the Nazi Hitlerarchy a humor program of 100 per cent “Aryan” derivation. When der Fuehrer’s bright boys discovered to their chagrin that most of the German humor was of distinctly Semitic origin they were honest enough to cancel the broadcast instead of trying to palm off #n the public Jewish jokes with in “Aryan” ### on them.

In the matter of songs, however, the Nazis have evidently reverted to their innate German love for music. They may be able to do without their jokes when they discover their Jewish origin. But songs! Ach, how could a true German drink his foamy brew, make love or, in these modern times, march out to the stirring business of boycotting some Jewish store, unless there were a song on his tips? Such a thing is inconceivable. They’ll sing their songs even if it be proven to them in black and white that the songs have been written by poets who are Jews or descended from Jews. And if they feel that it is necessary, even while singing the Jewish-written lieder, to show their contempt for Jewry, they can salve their consciences by giving off a few sour notes here and there.

That this song-singing business is not just a figment of Jewish imagination nor part of a Jewish plot to create dissension in the Nazi ranks is easily proved by a glance at a recent issue of the Literarische Welt, the German literary review.

This publication has been giving a good deal of space recently to the memory of of Germany’s soldier poets, whose songs have remained the proud possession of the German people. Fourteen poets were discussed, poets whose songs live though their bodies moulder on enemy soil. And eleven of these fourteen were “non-Aryans” — in other words, Jews or descendants of Jews. Of these, two, Walter Flex and Gorch Foock, were the sons of Jewesses whose maiden names were Pollack and Schle-singer.

In addition to those mentioned by the Literarische Welt there are three more German poets who fell in battle against Germany’s enemies who were Jews and who count in Germany among the best. They are August Stramm, Hugo Zuckermann and Franz Ludwig Mayer.

And of these, the case of Zuckermann places the Nazis at their inconsistent best. For Zuckermann’s songs, the songs of the Austrian Jew, are included in the Hitlerist song book. Zuckermann, the gallant Austrian cavalry officer, wrote a song called “Drueben am Wiesenrand hocken zwei Dohlen,” and the Hitler youths sing it as they march out in their brown shirts against the Jews.

The song may be found printed in the Hitler Youth Song Book, published in 1934 by the supreme command.

That the fact of Zuckermann’s Jewishness is known to the Nazis is undoubted and probably undenied. Zuckermann’s family, outraged at the thought that his work was used for such a purpose, wrote to the supreme command and declared they refused to allow his songs to appear in Hitlerist song books. They have had no reply. Since the protest five new editions of the song book have appeared, each including the Zuckermann poem under his name.

We think the Zuckermann family was wrong to have protested against the Nazi use of the song. Some day the beauty, the depth and the feeling of that song, which, translated literally means “Over there on the edge of the meadow two jackdaws are squatting,” may penetrate the skulls of the barbaric Nordies, overwhelm them with a sense of their stupid behavior and be instrumental, perhaps, in returning them to the ways of civilized creatures.

H. W.

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