Anthology 2005

“Eichmann feels guilty before God, not before the law."

Eichmann in Jerusalem, Hannah Arendt

It was sort of like when you were a kid,
And your friends would ask you to be a lookout for them
While they stole a dollar from their mother’s purse.
You didn’t agree or disagree with what was happening,
You didn’t have to.
You weren’t really participating,
Just looking in from the outside.

It was sort of like that.

Or like when you hear the man and woman upstairs,
Fighting and cursing, throwing dishes at the wall
And fists at each other,
And you just turn up the volume,
Hoping they’ll just work it out themselves,
And let you get some sleep.

It was sort of like that.

So you can’t hold me responsible for any of it.
I wasn’t the man behind the rifle,
With hard eyes and stiff shoulders.
I wasn’t even the man giving him orders.
My hands were clean,
Are clean,
As far as you’re concerned.

As far as I’m concerned, I did what I was told.
I shipped them from A to B, and nothing more.
Someone else made the call, I just made sure the train was loaded.
So don’t tell me I’m guilty.
Orders are orders, and that’s what I follow.
Besides, my orders come from much higher up than you.

— Katie Summers