Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

5 OSKAR’S WRONG NUMBER He entered with a joyful, full-throated urp-urp-urp by ROBERT SHERMAN TOWNES HIS is the story of why you never hear any more of Klein- mikkel’s Colossal Circus. It was Oskar the Incomparable who brought about the disaster. Oskar sports in the pool of: the East Berlin Zoo, a star attraction. As for Klaus Kleinmikkel, better not ask what became of him. In East Berlin, when the black cars of the Security Police whisk somebody away, everyone ceases to know him. After all, one has to look after one’s self. This was always Klaus Kleinmikkel’s own philosophy. Back in the thirties when the Nazis were rising to power, the fat circus- owner rode along with them, as part-time police spy, odd-job informer. As soon as the Allied bombs began to torch Berlin, he took to the safe countryside with gaudy caravans and special permits to entertain S.S. troop camps. The total collapse of the Reich found Klaus Kleinmikkel far inside the Russian area of occupation, although he had made frantic efforts to hurry westward. He shrugged, and quickly ingratiated himself with the new masters from Russia. For them he was able to perform such useful services as turning in the refugees who had paid him heavily to smuggle them to freedom in his gay caravans. In return Klaus Kleinmikkel was put in charge of a hippodrome in East Berlin whose former owner had been deported to a labour camp as “ non-essential.” One morning Herr K. was sitting in his office at the hippodrome. Looking out of the window, he was horrified to see a black Security Police car nosing up to his door. His heart froze as _a massively important-looking official got out, looked coldly at the brightly postered facade, consulted a slip of paper, nodded grimly, and stalked in. Expiring with terror, Herr K. made a pitiful effort at a smile; his tiny red mouth looked as though it wanted to whistle but couldn’t. His jowls quivered. ‘The police official looked through him as if through a particularly dirty window. ‘“ Kleinmikkel, Klaus?” he rasped. ‘“Y-yes. Yes, Herr Kommissir,” the circus man squeaked. comiclooks.comn