Chief of Staff Number Three: Heinrich Schepmann

(At the cover photo)

The first Chief of Staff was the Röhm,
He was a gay lad.
And Hitler said: Don’t trifle with trust!
My Chief of Staff

Loves Heyn besides me
And other brown brothers,
He was always a big pig,
But this I find digusting.

And Röhm therefore died by Adolf’s hand,
Short, painfully and very suddenly.
And Göbbels, standing next to him,
Found it utterly appalling.

Whom should I now appoint Chief of Staff
Of the little brown battalions?!
Spoke the Führer, and there started
A little discussion.

Hermann Göring said that
Lutze would not be useful.
He said: Lutze? What?!
He only has one eye.

Two eyes see more than one,
No, one isn’t much use.
The Führer said: It’s more than none!
And chose – Lutze.

Lutze was a great pick,
And could do no harm.
For nine years he was the Chief.
But then he had to die.

I don’t know: Was it God’s wish,
Was it the Führer’s will,
Was Heinrich Himmler angry with him?
Someday it will be revealed.

In any case, Lutze was dead,
That couldn’t be concealed.
And Adolf Hitler said in distress:
Who should I choose this time?

Do we take Lohse, do we take Koch,
Do we opt for the Ritter von Epp?
Who else is there? Who’s left?
And in the end he chose … Schepmann

Yes, Heinrich Schepmann was lucky,
Now playing the first flute,
He has a basilisk’s gaze
And looks like a toad.

He is now a Nazi Excellency,
Sits in the front row,
And now rides in a Mercedes Benz,
Indeed, loyalty to Hitler,

Has paid off well to date,
Schepmann has nothing to complain about,
Where this loyalty will lead him
Cannot yet be predicted.

When I look into the past,
Then I say, o boy,
Dear God, oh my,
Back then Schepmann shone less.

I’m certainly not so narrow-minded
To begrudge people, who are capable,
Who are skilled and talented,
Their rise to success.

But having the heart in the right place
Is the first basic condition,
When I see the Nazi bigwig filth,
My mind starts to pulse.

The muck mimics aristocracy
And floats to the top in Germany,
Many beasts became mighty,
Also Schepmann is enthroned high up.

What is one year? What are thirteen years?
Year after year flew by,
As it seems today, and Schepmann was
In Hattingen near Bochum

Just before Adolf came to power
A small primary school teacher,
Without pomp, without splendor,
But he was already a heavy

And very devoted Hitler man
And such yields fruits,
One did not ask what Schepmann can do,
The fact sufficed,

The time in Hattingen was over
Schepmann suddenly left and
Became the president of the police
Of the industrial city of Dortmund.

And if you ask me, did he manage
The somewhat abrupt change?
There, he led a murderous regime
Full of terror and mistreatment

And that pleased the Führer very much
And so Schepmann progressed
And climbed more and more
Up Adolf’s ladder.

The little teacher from the Ruhr
Has a different class today,
Is in the top tier today
Of the German Führer race.

The Führer spoke and it happened,
Emerged from the Nazi scum,
Schepmann became the SA’s Chief of Staff,
That will be enough for today.

Perhaps Schepmann thinks of Röhm,
And sometimes of Lutzen
And then he feels uncomfortable,
It weighs on him like the Abruzzo

And nightmares on his chest
And tortures his heart and soul
And almost takes away all the joy,
To serve as Chief of Staff.

Then he knows: Everyone who has held
The position as Chief of Staff
Is cursed and condemned,
Whoever is Chief of Staff suffers

A sudden death, which is abnormal
And embarrassing to mention,
Yes, such a thought is fatal,
I have to admit that.

I never agree with the Nazis,
That’s my weakness,
But this time I’d find it bad,
If I disagreed with him …