An elderly Australian refuge, whose life story has never
been revealed to family or friends, finally comes forth to an adult son. Alex Kurzem describes having, at the age of 5 or 6, escaped
from Nazi troops in his European village in 1941, watching from a distance the
massacre of his family and many others, and fleeing blindly through the forest
for days before being captured by the soldiers. Then, astonishingly, rather
than being shot along with everyone else who's been rounded up, he's been
adopted by the German led Latvian soldiers and turned into their mascot, their "good luck
charm." Decked out in a scaled-down SS uniform they've had tailored for him,
he's been taken along as the troops moved across the countryside, fighting
partisans and slaughtering townsfull of
people.
Kurzem, in the book The Mascot written by his son, Mark, has
extraordinary memory of some details, but also some huge blanks. He remembers
no other name for himself than the one the soldiers gave him, and no name at
all for the village in which he grew up.. He doesn't know what country he's
from. Although he had watched the deaths of his family, he can't remember their
names or faces.
One memory is particularly clear, however; that of the
occasion on which the sergeant who saved him from the firing squad, pulled down
his pants and underpants, and, after a quick look, warned him against ever
letting anyone else see him naked. Though no more than a child, he figures out
that being circumcised ,must mean that he's a Jew. So, a great anomaly: in the
midst of a squad of men going around killing Jews, here is this Jewish boy,
whom they hail and fuss over as one of their most beloved comrades. He's even
used as the centerpiece of a German propaganda film, the theme of which is how
happy and contented are the children of the Reich.
Most of the book involves detective work by the two Kurzem
men, as they try to fill in the details of a forgotten life, a forgotten
person. Adding to the pressure are serious threats from Latvian nationalists
concerned that the Kurzems might turn up something that could be embarrassing
to someone.
The reviewer for the New York Times wrote of THE MASCOT:
"Part mystery, part memory puzzle, it is written in the polished style of
a good thriller, and it is spellbinding.”
With that I agree but then one has to wonder to what degree a father to
son authorship might have involved some adlibbing on the sons part or
miscommunication. It is also important to consider the widespread national fear
and hatred of the Soviets that led to the complicity of some Latvians with the
Nazis. The attempts mentioned in the
book to discourage the book are somewhat validated by the following excerpt
from a document published in Riga on the historical accuracy of the wartime
portrayal of the Latvian/German collaboration.
“To sum up, in evaluating The Mascot as a book, we can note
that it is a competently and interestingly written story about an atypical Holocaust
survivor, which undoubtedly can arouse considerable interest in Western
society. It would seem that this has also been the aim of the book – not only
to reveal Uldis Kurzemnieks’ wartime experiences, but to do so if possible
dramatically and sensationally. At the same time it must be admitted that the
book’s author Mark Kurzem has often enough not at all come close to objectively
understanding wartime events in Eastern Europe. Being poorly acquainted with
and making little use of original Latvian historical materials, which could
have at least partly altered his assumptions about events, the books’ author all too often presents a
very subjective and only partially historically realistic view of his father’s
wartime experiences. Unfortunately the many errors and factual mistakes not
only diminish the quality of the book’s contents, but also without basis cast a
shadow over Latvian society. It is paradoxical that, even though the book
devotes much space to Latvians and Latvians, it has not appeared in a Latvian
translation and its authors have not been motivated involve Latvian historians
in the controversial questions the book touches upon.”
Manuscript from the Yearbook of the Museum of the Occupation
Museum of Latvia 2006.
To sum up this book was utterly fascinating while leaving some questions unanswered. I think it was well worth reading.....
Punk day 1988. 
