The Ludolf Papers

Gunther Ludolf’s mentor hid him away for eight months at Lambach Abbey, Austria. In late 1946, Ludolf emerged a clean-cut, well-dressed man in his early thirties at Fort Bliss after many divergent flights to cover his unsavory origins. Thanks to covert government and religious entities, scrubbed-clean phony passports and dossiers had been prepared. President Truman was out of the loop. This was bigger. In a desperate attempt to beat the Russians, shadow figures from the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), which would become the CIA, made sure that everything was in order. Many of his fellow comrades were dispersed to American cities in Alabama, New York, New Mexico, Maryland, and the great state of Texas in much the same way through diverted flights to keep their identities as hushed as possible.

In a desperate attempt to beat the Russians in a perpetual race to scientific advancement, Gunther Ludolf would be utilized to ensure the United States would not lose its edge over its ally Russia. He was a human spoil of war who was immediately intrigued with America. He was scooped up as an expert in psychological science.

Ludolf reflected on his work at the concentration camp. Dr. Semyaza had driven him to operate in a state of half exhaustion. He had never really slept, continuing to analyze outcomes even though his eyes were closed. He had sometimes awoken startled and not knowing if his thoughts were real or just a nightmare. He remembered looking down at his clipboard to avoid the gazes of those who had been starved, deprived, and tortured in the name of learning how much the human spirit could endure and still survive. He was not in a position to complain. Lack of emotion was necessary in this line of work. He saw himself as a willing measurer of outcomes in the name of science. He did not have the stomach for directly dealing out torture, but his particular part in Dachau denoted acceptance of the practice. If parts of the political machine of his new home in America were willing to take him in, maybe the United States and Nazi Germany were more like-minded than he’d ever imagined. He grinned and breathed in his new home.

On the day he arrived, Ludolf became Andrew Ludon and began working for LabUrnum Pharmaceuticals, which was a resurrected version of the defunct IG Farben corporation, covertly funded by IG Farben’s postwar corporate descendants. The new name was derived from the laburnum plant, which was indigenous to the mountain regions of France, Switzerland, and Southern Germany. The small tree was known for its gorgeous yellow flowers, which were so attractive but poisonous if consumed. Ludolf, now Andrew Ludon, smiled when he became aware of the ruse of the corporate name.

LabUrnum had been born through a silent government commission using reclaimed Nazi treasure—gold from the jaws of Israel—to fund shady areas of research and development. For six years, Ludon collaborated, consulted, and initiated many projects under the guise of medicine. Much of the research utilized the outcomes achieved during his time at Dachau. He was in the industry of creating a perceived need for drugs among the populace. Two things were necessary for success: first, the victim needed to have a perceived sense of trauma, like worry, fear, or anxiety, and then the individual must be given the proper drug. Ludon found it interesting that nearly two hundred thousand human fatalities per year could be linked to the pharmaceutical industry with little or no alarm from the American public.

Over the years, pressures from his work and his increasing knowledge of the nature and agenda of his work had taken a toll on him. He had always been a drinker. It helped to clear his mind and made his work easier. It made the sad eyes that still watched him from the Dachau cages disappear for a while.

One night in 1952, everything changed. He saw himself as if from above, lying in a pool of his own vomit. His sadistic life flashed before his eyes. He saw himself through the eyes of countless victims. He knew he was dead. Suddenly a cool rush of wind blew through. He heard the voices of those familiar beings who had given him a successful career in science. Now they laughed at him as he gasped for air, the foul liquid of his vomit burning his nostrils and lungs. The deep hatred these beings felt toward him was overwhelming. Even in his most cruel moments toward the Jews, he had not felt this depth of disgust. It was beyond human capacity. They celebrated his demise with triumph. “We are the ones who watch you fall!” they called. Many other voices chimed in so strongly that the sound physically pressed his head deeper into his own vomit and suffocation. He heaved once more.

These watchers had planned all along to destroy him. He was a heartless fool. He could feel his soul and life slipping away. An overwhelming sadness swept over him for all the hurt he had inflicted. Once more he looked into the sad eyes of his many victims. He suddenly heard their haunting whispered prayers. “Yeshua,” one young girl said, “I forgive you.” The sound of their prayers had nagged at him for years, but now it was the breath of life.