London

When I heard on the radio on 9th November that Legation Secretary vom Rath had died in Paris, I immediately said to my wife, "If only nothing happens!"

At a quarter to 5 in the morning on the night of 10th November I heard a lot of noise. A policeman whom I knew appeared, in a very angry state, and told me I was under arrest. He released the safety catch on his weapon and said that he would shoot any attempt to escape. I replied extremely calmly, “You needn’t worry about that with me.”

As the officer and I went through the front garden I saw two typical SS men whom I did not know, standing there wearing leather jackets. The policeman accompanying me whispered with them both. He said to me “Go on!” and let me go forward alone in the dark.

After I had gone on for a little while three shots suddenly sounded. The first shot missed. The second hit me in the back, the third was a shot in the stomach which caused me serious injury. The shots were fired from a Luger pistol. Before the shooting I had noticed that the two SS men I did not know were the culprits, because they were circling round towards me. I had the presence of mind not to cry out. The SS men ran off. I crawled into a front garden. The policeman suddenly appeared on the other side and satisfied himself that I was lying there. Then he got into a car that stopped nearby and drove away. I was gurgling loudly, especially after I noticed one of the murderers coming back after about ten minutes. “Such filth" he shouted.

I knew better than to call for help straight away. When I noticed that the murderers and their helper’s helper had apparently disappeared I dared to do so. Ten to twelve people turned up despite the early hour. I asked them first to tell my wife that I was not well. The emergency ambulance did not come. After I learned of reports about how difficult it was to call it out, I take it to be certain that the departure of the emergency ambulance was deliberately held up by the Gestapo.

I was then taken to hospital by the ambulance and had to undergo an operation lasting one or two hours. It was a shot through the bowels. The fact that I had gone to the toilet before the policeman led me out of my house significantly contributed to my surviving the serious gunshot wound and the operation that which resulted from it. I was released from hospital after seven weeks on my sickbed. My release only took place with the approval of the Gestapo. Because I had been living in my home town for years, many Christian friends and acquaintances sent me their best wishes for my recovery when I began to walk again. Strangers sent flowers to my house, and I received anonymous letters that brought me evidence of sympathy. A lady I knew who belonged to the NSDAP wanted to protest against the outrage by sending a reader’s letter to the appropriate National Socialist newspaper. Only the fact that she had been a National Socialist for a long time protected her from serious consequences. An engineer (a naval officer) whom I know and his secretary were arrested because they had supposedly spoken up for me.

As the Gestapo observed that my presence produced an atmosphere and reports that were detrimental to the Party, I received the order to leave my home town on 16th January. I was also told to report to the responsible police station in Berlin. I was not allowed to leave the territory of the Reich, although a permit to travel to England was already available for me and my wife too.

I was repeatedly told during my seven-month long stay in Berlin that I would receive my passport for the journey out. I received it eventually, after, as I was told, Herr Himmler himself had taken a decision on the matter. I then went to London with my wife.