In the chap­ter titled “AUF WIEDERSEHEN …,” the nar­ra­tor reflects on their past actions dur­ing World War II, con­fess­ing to com­mit­ting high trea­son and crimes against human­i­ty. Despite these seri­ous alle­ga­tions, they man­aged to escape con­se­quences by being an Amer­i­can agent through­out the war, unwit­ting­ly car­ry­ing cod­ed mes­sages out of Ger­many through their radio broad­casts. This cod­ed com­mu­ni­ca­tion was con­struct­ed through sub­tle cues like man­ner­isms, paus­es, and empha­sis, orches­trat­ed by unseen han­dlers. The nar­ra­tor’s lack of knowl­edge about the actu­al con­tent of these trans­mis­sions sug­gests a role lim­it­ed to pro­vid­ing affir­ma­tions or denials at key moments.

The nar­ra­tor describes how this covert iden­ti­ty grant­ed them a pro­tec­tive cov­er, lead­ing to a lack of account­abil­i­ty for their actions. Freed due to tech­ni­cal­i­ties sur­round­ing their cit­i­zen­ship, they van­ished from view, adopt­ing a new life in New York City under an assumed name. Liv­ing in a run­down attic with a view of a hid­den park, the nar­ra­tor found rel­a­tive anonymi­ty. The rar­i­ty of their name in publications—mostly among list­ings of war criminals—reflects both the fear and intrigue sur­round­ing their past.

Inter­ac­tion with a local Jew­ish doc­tor, Abra­ham Epstein, and his moth­er brings an unset­tling con­fronta­tion with the past. While the doc­tor seems eager to ignore his­tor­i­cal hor­rors, his moth­er links their family’s suf­fer­ing to the nar­ra­tive of war, point­ing out the infa­mous nature of the nar­ra­tor’s name. The con­ver­sa­tion touch­es on painful mem­o­ries asso­ci­at­ed with Auschwitz, stir­ring dis­qui­et.

The chap­ter clos­es with an awk­ward yet poignant exchange as the nar­ra­tor engages in a short con­ver­sa­tion about lan­guage with the doctor’s moth­er, who inquires if they speak Ger­man. Their exchange of “Auf wieder­se­hen” tran­si­tions the mood, at once a farewell and an echo of a his­to­ry that haunts both the speak­er and lis­ten­ers. This crit­i­cal moment under­scores themes of mem­o­ry, iden­ti­ty, and the endur­ing shad­ows of war, cement­ing the nar­ra­tor’s com­plex rela­tion­ship with their past and present.