Fr. Richard Henkes, S.A.C., A Picture of His Life A Picture of His Life | Page 7

February 22, 1945. No. 49642 is motionless on his hard bed.
High fever. It is cold. His limbs ache. We do not know if someone
wiped the sweat from his face, whether someone gave him something
to drink or a clean blanket. Where could you get clean blankets from?
Starting in December 1944, the plague had spread, causing many to
die here during this time—nearly 8,000 in under four months. Num-
ber 49642 was just one of these. We do not know anything about the
last hours of February 22, 1945 in the Dachau Concentration Camp.
In only 65 days the SS guards would leave the camp in a great
hurry. In only 66 days the Americans would free the camp. Then there
would once again be something to eat and fresh water to drink - free-
dom. This is what Number 49642 guessed, just like the others, but
now these premonitions - these hopes - were blurred. His homesick-
ness did not hurt anymore, but instead every movement. He laid there
motionless in the grip of fever, staring at himself against the wooden
slats of the bed above him. He looked back and forth feverishly. 44
years of energetic life were now wasting away. Memories of the West-
erwald shimmer. There, Number 49642 was still “Krämers (Grocer)
Richard”. The image of the Mother of Jesus smiles at him, the one
from Schönstatt. In these memories, he was still “Father Henkes.”
Pictures of the Hultschiner Ländchen region emerge. There he was
still “our priest.” In the feverish eyes of Number 49642, sweat mixed
with tears. He could still cry - he never felt ashamed of his tears. His
dry lips whispered, “Mother.” Soon he would see her, along with Otto,
Hugo, Maria, Regina and all his other siblings, to whom he was so
attached. “Good day! I am your pastor!” He remembers the Czech
phrase coming from his lips during his priestly ministry. No, he would
not go first to the Westerwald. That would come later. At first, he was
assigned to Strandorf. They needed him there—the Germans and the
Czechs - two peoples who lived together. They wanted their pastor
again. He was in the prime of his life. In two months, he would be
45. There he would put all his energy into pastoral care and reconcil-
iation. How often had he discussed this with Joseph? Number 49642
breathed slowly and heavily. We do not know when he took his last
breath.
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