This terrifying new article will make you ask:
“Did the victors of WWII deserve to win?”
By Thomas Goodrich
author of Hellstorm—The Death of Nazi Germany, 1944-1947
An edited abridgement by Lasha Darkmoon with notes and comments
Part 2: The Slaughterhouse That Was Germany
This is how the Jewish war criminal, Shlomo Morel, treated his German prisoners of war at an American death camp in Germany after WWII:
“Schweine!” Shlomo cried. He threw down his rubber club, grabbed a wooden stool, and, a leg in his fist, started beating a German’s head. Without thinking, the man raised his arms, and Shlomo, enraged that the man would try to evade his just punishment, cried, “Sonofawhore!” and slammed the stool against the man’s chest.
The man dropped his arms, and Shlomo started hitting his now undefended head when snap! the leg of the stool split off, and, cursing the German birchwood, he grabbed another stool and hit the German with that. No one was singing now, but Shlomo, shouting, didn’t notice.
The other guards called out, “Blond!” “Black!” “Short!” “Tall!” and as each of these terrified people came up, they wielded their clubs upon him. The brawl went on till eleven o’clock, when the sweat-drenched invaders cried, “Pigs! We will fix you up!” and left the Germans alone.
Some were quite fixed…. Shlomo and his subordinates had killed them.
The next night it was more of the same . . . and the next night, and the next, and the next. Those who survived the “welcoming committees” at this and other camps were flung back into their pens.
“I was put with 30 women into a cell, which was intended to accommodate one person,” Gerlinde Winkler recalled. “The narrow space, into which we were rammed, was unbearable and our legs were all entangled together. . . . The women, ill with dysentery, were only allowed to go out once a day, in order to relieve themselves. A bucket without a cover was pushed into the cell with the remark: ‘Here you have one, you German sows.’
The stink was insupportable, and we were not allowed to open the little window.”
“The air in the cells became dense, the smell of the excrement filled it, the heat was like in Calcutta, and the flies made the ceiling black,” wrote John Sack. “I’m choking, the Germans thought, and one even took the community razor blade and, in despair, cut his throat open with it.”
When the wretched inmates were at last pried from their hellish tombs, it was only for interrogation. Sack, Jewish author of An Eye for an Eye : The Story of Jews who sought Revenge for the Holocaust, continues:
As many as eight interrogators, almost all Jews, stood around any one German saying, “Were you in the Nazi Party?” Sometimes a German said, “Yes,” and the boys shouted, “Du schwein! You pig!” and beat him and broke his arm, perhaps, before sending him to his cell. . . . But usually a German said, “No,” and the boys … told him, “You’re lying. You were a Nazi.”
“No, I never was.”
“You’re lying! We know about you!”
“No, I really wasn’t—”
“Du lugst! You’re lying!” they cried, hitting the obstinate man. “You better admit it! Or you’ll get a longer sentence! Now! Were you in the Nazi Party?”
“No!”the German often said, and the [Jewish] boys had to beat him and beat him until he was really crying, “I was a Nazi! Yes!”
But sometimes a German wouldn’t confess. One such hard case was a fifty-year-old….
“Were you in the Party?”
“No, I wasn’t in it.”
“How many people work for you?”
“In the high season, thirty-five.”
“You must have been in the Party,” the boy deduced.
He asked for the German’s wallet, where he found a fishing license with the stamp of the German Anglers Association. Studying it, he told the German, “It’s stamped by the Party.”
“It’s not,” said the German.
He’d lost his left arm in World War I and was using his right arm to gesture with, and, to the boy, he may have seemed to be Heiling Hitler. The boy became violent.
He grabbed the man’s collar, hit the man’s head against the wall, hit it against it ten times more, threw the man’s body onto the floor, and, in his boots, jumped on the man’s cringing chest.
A half dozen other interrogators, almost all Jews, pushed the man onto a couch, pulled off his trousers, and hit him with hard rubber clubs and hard rubber hoses full of stones.
The sweat started running down the Jews’ arms, and the blood down the man’s naked legs.
“Warst du in der Partei?”
“Warst du in der Partei?”
“Nein!” the German screamed—screamed, till the [Jewish] boys had to go to Shlomo’s kitchen for a wooden spoon and to use it to cram some rags in the German’s mouth. Then they resumed beating him. . . . The more the man contradicted them, the more they hated him for it.
After undergoing similar sessions on a regular basis, the victim was brought back for the eighth time.
By now, the man was half unconscious due to his many concussions, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. The boys worked on him with rubber and oak-wood clubs and said, “Do you still say you weren’t in the Party?”
“No! I didn’t say I wasn’t in the Party!”
“No!” said the punch drunk man. “I never said it!”
“You were in the Party?”
The boys stopped beating him. They practically sighed, as if their ordeal were over now. They lit up cigarettes….
“Scram,” one said to the German. The man stood up, and he had his hand on the doorknob when one of the boys impulsively hit the back of his head, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.
“Aufstehen, du Deutsches schwein! Stand up, you German pig!” the [Jewish] boys said, kicking him till he stood up and collapsed again. Two boys carried him to his cell and dropped him in a corner….
Of course, the boys would beat up the Germans for “Yes”es as well as “No”s. In Glatz, the Jewish commandant asked a German policeman, “Were you in the Party?”
“Of course! I was obliged to be!”
“Lie down,” the commandant said, and six weeks later the [Jewish] boys were still whipping the German’s feet.
Some torture sessions lacked even the pretense of an examination. Remembered Eva Reimann:
My cell door opened. The guard, who, because of the foul smell, held a handkerchief to his nose, cried, “Reimann Eva! Come!” I was led to a first-floor room.
He shouted at me, “Take off your shoes!”
I took them off.
I lay down.
He took a thick bamboo stick, and he beat the soles of my feet. I screamed, since the pain was very great. . . . The stick whistled down on me. A blow on my mouth tore my lower lip, and my teeth started bleeding violently. He beat my feet again. The pain was unbearable….
The door opened suddenly, and, smiling obligingly, a cigarette in his mouth, in came the chief of the Office, named Sternnagel. In faultless German he asked me, “What’s wrong here? Why do you let yourself be beaten? You just have to sign this document. Or should we jam your fingers in the door, until the bones are broken. . . ?
A man picked me up by the ankles, raised me eight inches above the floor, and let me fall. My hands were tied, and my head hit hard. . . . I lay in a bloody puddle.
Someone cried, “Stand up!” I tried to, and, with unspeakable pain, I succeeded.
A man with a pistol came in, held it to my left temple, and said, “Will you now confess?”
I told him, “Please shoot me.” Yes, I hoped to be freed from all his tortures. I begged him, “Please pull the trigger.”
After barely surviving his “interrogation,” one fourteen-year-old German boy prisoner of war was taken to the camp infirmary. “My body was green, but my legs were fire red,” the boy said. “My wounds were bound with toilet paper, and I had to change the toilet paper every day. I was in the perfect place to watch what went on….
All the patients were being beaten in their beds. They were dying everywhere: in their beds, in the washroom, on the toilet. At night, I had to step over the dead, as if that were normal to do.”
When the supply of victims ran low, it was a simple matter to find more. John Sack continues:
One day, a German in pitch-black pants, the SS’s color, showed up in Lola’s prison. He’d been spotted near the city square by a Pole who’d said, “Fascist! You’re wearing black!”
At that, the German had bolted off, but the Pole chased him a mile to the Church of Saints Peter and Paul, tackled him by a gold mosaic, hit him, kicked him, and took him to Lola’s prison. Some guards, all girls, then seized the incriminating evidence: the man’s black pants, pulling them off so aggressively that one of the tendons tore. The man screamed, but the girls said, “Shut up!” and they didn’t recognize that the pants were part of a boy scout uniform.
The “man” was [only] fourteen years old.
The “girls” [female camp guards working for the Americans, probably Jewish women] decided to torture him with fire. They held down the German boy, put out their cigarettes on him, and, using gasoline, set his curly black hair afire.
At the larger prison camps, Germans died by the hundreds daily.
“You pigs!” the commandant then cried, and he beat the Germans with their stools, often killing them. At dawn many days, a Jewish guard cried, “Eins! Zwei! Drei! Vier!” and marched the Germans into the woods outside their camp. “Halt! Get your shovels! Dig!” the guard cried, and, when the Germans had dug a big grave, he put a picture of Hitler in. “Now cry!” the guard said. “And sing All the Dogs Are Barking!” and all the Germans moaned,
All the dogs are barking,
All the dogs are barking,
Just the little hot-dogs,
Aren’t barking at all.
The guard then cried, “Get undressed!” and, when the Germans were naked, he beat them, poured liquid manure on them, or, catching a toad, shoved the fat thing down a German’s throat. The German was soon dead.
Utterly unhinged by years of persecution, by the loss of homes and loved ones, for the camp operators, no torture, no sadism, no bestiality, seemed too monstrous to inflict on those now in their power.
Some Germans were forced to crawl on all fours and eat their own excrement as well as that of others. Many were drowned in open latrines. Hundreds were herded into buildings and burned to death or sealed in caskets and buried alive.
Near Lamsdorf, German women were forced to disinter bodies from a Polish burial site.
According to John Sack:
The women did, and they started to suffer nausea as the bodies, black as the stuff in a gutter, appeared. The faces were rotten, the flesh was glue, but the guards—who had often seemed psychopathic, making a German woman drink urine, drink blood, and eat a man’s excrement, inserting an oily five-mark bill in a woman’s vagina, putting a match to it—shouted at the women . . . “Lie down with them!”
The women [lay down], and the guards shouted, “Hug them!” “Kiss them!” “Make love with them!” and, with their rifles, pushed on the backs of the women’s heads until their eyes, noses and mouths were deep in the Polish faces’ slime. The women who clamped their lips couldn’t scream, and the women who screamed had to taste something vile.
Spitting, retching, the women at last stood up, the wet tendrils still on their chins, fingers, clothes, the wet seeping into the fibers, the stink like a mist around them as they marched back to Lamsdorf. There were no showers there, and the corpses had all had typhus apparently. and sixty-four women died.
Not surprisingly, the mortality rate at the concentration camps was staggering and relatively few survived. At one prison of eight thousand, a mere 1,500 lived to reach home. And of those “lucky” individuals who did leave with their lives, few could any longer be called human.
When a smattering of accounts began to leak from Poland of the unspeakable crimes being committed by the Allied forces, many in the West were stunned. “One would expect that after the horrors in Nazi concentration camps, nothing like that could ever happen again,” muttered one US senator, who then reported on beatings, torture and “brains splashed on the ceiling.”
“Is this what our soldiers died for?” echoed a Briton in the House of Commons.
Added Winston Churchill: “Enormous numbers [of Germans] are utterly unaccounted for. It is not impossible that tragedy on a prodigious scale is unfolding itself behind the Iron Curtain.”
While Churchill and others in the West were expressing shock and surprise over the sadistic slaughter taking place in the Soviet Zone, precious little was said about the “tragedy on a prodigious scale” that was transpiring in their own backyard.
Lasha Darkmoon comments :
The “Allied Forces” who were responsible for all these war crimes consisted of four countries : America, Britain, the Soviet Union and France. Of these four, it is indisputable that the Soviet Union was responsible for the most horrendous atrocities, including the mass rape of 2 million German women at the instigation of Stalin’s Jewish war propagandist Ilya Ehrenberg who advised the Soviet troops: “Use force and break the racial pride of these German women! Take them as your lawful booty! Kill!” (See here)
Was Stalin aware that his troops were raping German women of all ages in their hundreds of thousands and putting them to death with the most horrific tortures, such as nailing them to barn doors and thrusting telephone receivers up their bleeding, gang-raped vaginas? Of course, though Stalin apologists like to pretend that their hero, who had his spies and informants just about everywhere, was blissfully ignorant of all these appalling war crimes committed by his soldiers.
Stalin’s easy-going attitude to the mass rape and murder of German women was revealed in an unofficial, off-the-cuff comment he made to Yugoslav politician Milovan Djilas who had complained to him about Red Army rapes in Yugoslavia.
“Understand it ,” Stalin is reported to have said cynically, “that if a soldier who has crossed thousands of kilometres through blood and fire and death has fun with a woman or takes some trifle.” On another occasion, when told that Red Army soldiers had sexually maltreated some German women, he said dismissively: “We lecture our soldiers too much; let them have their initiative.”
As for the Americans and Brits, though their war crimes (including rape and torture) were far more muted than those of the Soviet Union, any pretence that they were unaware of what Uncle Joe and his Asiatic hordes were up to in Germany, can be dismissed as arrant nonsense. Churchill’s expression of concern for the horrors of the war that were leaking out of Germany, and his sly attempt to suggest that the Soviets were the only culprits—”It is not impossible that tragedy on a prodigious scale is unfolding itself behind the Iron Curtain“—has to be the ultimate in sanctimonious hypocrisy. This, remember, was the blood-bespattered Destroyer of Dresden speaking, the carpet bomber of German cities full of fleeing and terrified German civilians. [LD]
(Thomas Goodrich continues)
Among the millions imprisoned by the Allies were thousands of Germans accused of having a direct or indirect hand in war crimes. Because the victorious powers demanded swift and severe punishment, Allied prosecutors were urged to get the most damning indictments in as little time as possible. Unfortunately for the accused, their captors seemed determined to inflict as much pain as possible in the process.
“[W]e were thrown into small cells stark naked,” Hans Schmidt later wrote. “The cells in which three or four persons were incarcerated were six and a half by ten feet in size and had no windows or ventilation.”
When we went to the lavatory we had to run through a lane of Americans who struck us with straps, brooms, cudgels, buckets, belts, and pistol holders to make us fall down. Our head, eyes, body, belly, and genitals were violently injured. A man stood inside the lavatory to beat us and spit on us. We returned to our cells through the same ordeal. The temperature in the cells was 140 Fahrenheit or more.
During the first three days we were given only one cup of water and a small slice of bread. During the first days we perspired all the time, then perspiration stopped. We were kept standing chained back to back for hours. We suffered terribly from thirst, blood stagnation and mortification of the hands. From time to time water was poured on the almost red-hot radiators, filling the cells with steam, so that we could hardly breathe. During all this time the cells were in darkness, except when the American soldiers entered and switched on electric bulbs … which forced us to close our eyes.
Our thirst became more and more cruel, so that our lips cracked, our tongues were stiff, and we eventually became apathetic, or raved, or collapsed.
After enduring this torture for several days, we were given a small blanket to cover our nakedness, and driven to the courtyard outside. The uneven soil was covered with pebbles and slag and we were again beaten and finally driven back on our smashed and bleeding feet.
While out of breath, burning cigarettes were pushed into our mouths, and each of us was forced to eat three or four of them. Meanwhile the American soldiers continued to hit us on eyes, head, and ears. Back in our cells we were pushed against burning radiators, so that our skin was blistered.
For thirteen days and nights we received the same treatment, tortured by heat and thirst. When we begged for water, our guards mocked us. When we fainted we were revived by being drenched with cold water. There was dirt everywhere and we were never allowed to wash, our inflamed eyes gave us terrible pain, we fainted continuously.
Every twenty minutes or so our cell doors were opened and the soldiers insulted and hit us. Whenever the doors were opened we had to stand still with our backs to the door. Two plates of food, spiced with salt, pepper, and mustard to make us thirstier, were given us daily. We ate in the dark on the floor. The thirst was the most terrible of all our tortures and we could not sleep.
In this condition I was brought to trial.
During the Nazi war crimes trials and hearings, almost any method that would obtain a “confession” was employed. Eager to implicate high-ranking German officers in the Malmedy Massacre, [Jewish] American investigator Harry Thon ordered Wehrmacht sergeant Willi Schafer to write out an incriminating affidavit:
Next morning Mr. Thon appeared in my cell, read my report, tore it up, swore at me and hit me. After threatening to have me killed unless I wrote what he wanted, he left. A few minutes later the door of my cell opened.
A black hood, encrusted with blood, was put over my head and face and I was led to another room.
In view of Mr. Thon’s threat the black cap had a crushing effect on my spirits. Four men of my company accused me, although later they admitted to having borne false testimony. Nevertheless I still refused to incriminate myself.
Thereupon, Mr Thon said that if I continued to refuse, this would be taken as proof of my Nazi opinions, and my death was then certain. He said I would have no chance against four witnesses, and advised me for my own good to make a statement—after which I would be set free. I still refused. I told Mr. Thon that although my memory was good, I was unable to recall any of the occurrences he wished me to write about and which, to the best of my knowledge, had never occurred.
Mr Thon left but returned in a little while with Lieutenant William Perl [another American Jew] who abused me, and told Mr Thon that, should I not write what was required within half an hour, I should be left to my fate. Lieutenant Perl made it clear to me that I had the alternative of writing and going free or not writing and dying.
I decided for life.
Lasha Darkmoon comments:
Lt. William R. Perl (pictured) was another Jew in an American uniform noted for the delight he took in torturing German prisoners of war. Perl was also a good friend and associate of the Zionist Ze’ev Jabotinsky, founder of the murderous Irgun terrorist organization in Israel.
Though Perl had lots of German blood on his hands, he was nevertheless allowed by the Americans to serve as a prosecutor at the Nuremberg War trials.
The Presiding Judge at that trial was his fellow Jew, Col. AH Rosenfeld, who cheerfully admitted to torturing German prisoners of war as a matter of policy. [LD]
Another Landser [= low-ranking German soldier] who was unable to resist the pressure was Joachim Hoffman:
[W]hen taken for a hearing a black hood was placed over my head. The guards who took me to my hearing often struck or kicked me. I was twice thrown down the stairs and was hurt so much that blood ran out of my mouth and nose. At the hearing, when I told the officers about the ill treatment I had suffered, they only laughed. I was beaten and the black cap pulled over my face whenever I could not answer the questions put to me, or gave answers not pleasing to the officers. I was beaten and several times kicked in the genitals.
Understandably, after several such sessions, even the strongest German prisoners of war signed papers incriminating themselves and others.
“If you confess you will go free,” nineteen-year-old Siegfried Jaenckel was told. “You need only to say you had an order from your superiors. But if you won’t speak, you will be hung.”
Despite the mental and physical abuse, young Jaenckel held out as long as he could:
“I was beaten and I heard the cries of the men being tortured in adjoining cells, and whenever I was taken for a hearing I trembled with fear. Subjected to such duress, I eventually gave in and signed the long statement dictated to me.”
Far from being isolated or extreme cases, such methods of extorting confessions were the rule rather than the exception. American jurist Edward van Roden was to tell historian Freda Utley about the horrors being practiced in Germany by the Americans and their mostly Jewish interrogators:
Beatings and brutal kickings; knocking-out of teeth and breaking of jaws; mock trials; solitary confinement; torture with burning splinters; the use of investigators pretending to be priests; starvation; and promises of acquittal. Judge van Roden said: “All but two of the Germans in the 139 cases we investigated had been kicked in the testicles beyond repair. This was standard operating procedure with our American investigators.”
He told of one German who had had lighted matchsticks forced under his fingernails by the American investigators to extort a confession, and had appeared at his trial with his fingers still bandaged from the atrocity. (See
In addition to testimony given under torture, those who might have spoken in defense of the accused were prevented. Moreover, hired “witnesses” were paid by the Americans to parrot the prosecution’s charges.
When criticism such as Utley’s and van Roden’s surfaced, and even as victims were being hung by the hundreds, those responsible defended their methods.
“We couldn’t have made those birds talk otherwise,” laughed one Jewish “interrogator,” Colonel AH Rosenfeld. “It was a trick, and it worked like a charm.”
THE NUREMBERG WAR TRIALS
“It was a trick, and it worked like a charm.”
KEY TEXTS: BACKGROUND READING
(Selected by Lasha Darkmoon)
— Thomas Goodrich, Hellstorm : The Death of Nazi Germany, 1944-1947 (2014)
— Thomas Goodrich, Rape Hate — Sex and Violence in War and Peace (2015)
— JA Sexton and Lasha Darkmoon, Hellstorm, The Devil’s Cauldron: The Mass Rape of German Women by the Red Army and its Allies
— Mark Weber, Part 2 of “The Nuremberg Trials and the Holocaust”, On Torture at Nuremberg
— Giles MacDonogh, After the Reich: The Brutal History of the Allied Occupation (2009)
— Mark Weber (book review of above), “New Book Details Mass Killings and Brutal Mistreatment of Germans at the End of World War Two.” (IHR: 2007).http://www.ihr.org/other/afterthereich072007.html
— James Bacque, Crimes and Mercies: The Fate of German Civilians Under Allied Occupation, 1944–1950 (2007)
— James Bacque, Other Losses: An Investigation into the Mass Deaths of German Prisoners at the Hands of the French and Americans after World War II (2011)
— Ralph Franklin Keeling, Gruesome Harvest : The Allies’ Postwar War Against the German People (1992)
— John Sack, An Eye For An Eye : The Story of Jews who sought Revenge for the Holocaust (2000)
See also : Address by John Sack at IHR conference “Behind An Eye for an Eye : Revenge, Hate and History” (May 2000) http://www.ihr.org/jhr/v20/v20n1p-9_Sack.html
— Alfred-Maurice de Zayas, A Terrible Revenge : The Ethnic Cleansing of the East European Germans (2006)
— Benton L. Bradberry, The Myth Of German Villainy (2012)