Axis Sally: The American Voice of Nazi Germany (37 page)

It took five hours for Laughlin to finish his plea for Axis Sally’s acquittal. In a final gesture, he raised his arm like a master of ceremonies, swept it toward the defendant and closed with a final acclaim, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mildred Gillars.”
⁴⁶⁵
As he sat down, the lawyer hesitated. He rose again to remind the jury of Mildred’s oath of allegiance to Germany:

Despite his earlier agreement to the stipulation that Mildred was an American citizen who owed allegiance to the United States at all times, Laughlin pinned his hopes on a thin reed that he foolishly threw away at the beginning of the trial. Although her story about the oath was only confirmed by Erwin Christiani, no supporting documentation existed. Nevertheless, Laughlin used it in an attempt to invalidate the entire trial. If defense counsel had taken that position in the beginning and claimed that she had expatriated himself in 1941, acquittal might have been, at least, a possibility.

Her lips tightly pursed in nervous anticipation, Mildred listened closely as Judge Curran instructed the jury. Asking them to use “the same good common sense you apply to the problems of everyday life,” Curran told the jurors that if the defendant gave “aid and comfort” to the enemy and acted with the intention to betray the nation, the verdict must be guilty. As the judge continued, he whisked away each one of the defense arguments, deeming them irrelevant to Axis Sally’s guilt or innocence. It did not matter whether she lived in fear of arrest and internment in a concentration camp. It did not matter if she felt compelled to broadcast for the Nazis—
unless
she lived in fear of “imminent and impending death or bodily harm” at
all
times.
⁴⁶⁷

Curran explained: “Force and fear must continue
all the time
[author’s italics] in which the traitorous act or acts is performed.”
⁴⁶⁸
To meet that standard, Axis Sally would have had to experience the imminent fear of death or torture every day from December 8, 1941 to May 8, 1945. “Fear that she might be sent to a concentration camp is not sufficient,” he said, an unusual twist of logic in a world freshly acquainted with the horrors of Buchenwald, Dachau and Treblinka:

Finally, Curran reminded the jurors of the stipulation signed by Mildred herself affirming her American citizenship. The stipulation (and her acceptance of it) made her “oath of allegiance” insufficient to avoid conviction:

One by one, Curran eliminated every defense from the jury’s consideration. Mildred despondently sank down into her chair. Laughlin reddened. With their options severely limited, the jury filed out to decide the fate of Axis Sally. It would be a long vigil. After several hours of deliberation, the jury adjourned to a nearby restaurant for dinner. At 10:30 p.m., with no verdict, Federal marshals transported the jurors to the Hotel Continental for the night.

The following morning, Mildred arrived at court in a bus packed with prisoners. Edna Mae Herrick and her husband Edward waited outside in the searing wind. The last to emerge from the coach, Mildred greeted her half-sister with a cheerful “Good morning, dear.” Mildred appeared heartened by the lack of a quick decision. She was then led to a basement holding cell in the courthouse where she waited. Morning passed with no word, and when the jurors emerged at one o’clock to eat lunch at a 5th Street restaurant, reporters scanned their faces for some sign. The only indication of their discussions was a request for the transcripts of the 22 Axis Sally recordings entered into evidence.

Friday afternoon passed with no word from the jury room. With the weekend fast approaching, the jurors sent word at 4:28 p.m. that they had reached a verdict. Within minutes, Mildred was brought upstairs. At 4:45, the jury filed in. She intently eyed each one but not a single man or woman met her gaze. Judge Curran entered and asked her to stand. The bailiff asked the jury foreman, Henry G. Davis, if the panel had reached a decision. Without hesitation, Davis answered “Yes. Guilty.” Mildred’s face drained of color and Edna Mae began to sob. Laughlin demanded a poll of the jury. Barely audible above the din of spectators and press, each juror answered “Guilty.” One spectator shouted “Ah, hell,” as the slow procession dragged on. Print reporters swarmed out of the room to file their stories. Axis Sally was found guilty on only one of eight counts: #10—participation in the radio drama V
ision of Invasion.
After all the testimony by former prisoners of war, wounded servicemen and German collaborators, Mildred was convicted for acting in a play—a work written by a man charged with treason in 1943 and whose indictment was signed by the judge who now held her life in his hands. Death removed any possibility that Otto Koischwitz would face justice, but Mildred Gillars would bear the penalty for both of them.

As promised, Laughlin motioned for a new trial—a considerable long shot since Judge Curran would make the decision. Sentencing was set for March 25. In the meantime, Axis Sally would remain in the District Jail. A Federal marshal stepped up behind the convicted woman and pulled out her chair as a signal to leave. She glanced once more at her distraught sister. Trembling, Edna Mae dropped a cup of water as Mildred was led away. A reporter waited by the holding cell for a comment. Unbowed, she said, “I wish those who judged me would be willing to risk their lives for America as I did.”
⁴⁷²
She paced back and forth in the cell, drawing on a cigarette, until a black paneled van pulled up in front of the courthouse. “It looks like you are going to get your picture taken again,” the marshal jocularly told her. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she replied dryly as she stepped out into the crowd.
⁴⁷³

Her face, taut and strained, peered out the van’s narrow window. Nearby, Edna Mae was visibly bitter, telling one reporter, “I don’t think they will sleep much tonight.”
⁴⁷⁴
Leaving court, James Laughlin met the press. He called the judge’s behavior an “outrageous and shocking violation of accepted judicial procedure.” Curran swept away every one of his defenses, he claimed. “There [was] no basis for much of it. He excluded anything concerning concentration camps. We know concentration camps are tantamount to a death sentence,” he said. In short, it was “an invitation to return a guilty verdict.”
⁴⁷⁵

That evening, Mildred was greeted by a surprise telegram from the attorney whose services she had disavowed publicly a year before. From the wilds of Alaska, John Holzworth reminded the convicted woman of his past warnings and attacked her choice of legal counsel:

Confronted by the prospect of life in prison or even a death sentence, Holzworth’s telegram was a bitter emotional blow. As her sentencing approached, her behavior became more erratic and difficult. Mildred resisted Laughlin’s attempts to launch an appeal; refusing to sign necessary documents to proceed
in pauperis
. Penniless, she could not hire and pay for any other legal representation. On appeal, there would be no publicity bonanza for a lawyer in search of renown. It would be James Laughlin or no one.

“I’ll never be able to understand…”

On March 25, Mildred arrived for sentencing in the same black dress she wore throughout the trial. Once again, Edna Mae dutifully stood behind her. Curran immediately denied the motion for a new trial and asked Mildred to stand and receive her sentence. He asked if she had anything to say before he passed sentence. She looked down at the defense table and stiffened. “I’ll never be able to understand,” she began, “why I was found guilty in
Vision of Invasion
, which was written by Professor Koischwitz, who also directed and played in it. He was indicted for treason in 1943, and he was exonerated by this government. You, as a U.S. District Attorney, signed the papers.”
⁴⁷⁷
Curran cut in, “I’m told so. I have no recollection of it.”

Determined to have her say, she continued her monologue: “If the
Vision of Invasion
was so heinous and odious, why was an American passport given to Mr. (Ulrich) Haupt?”

“Don’t ask me,” replied Curran.

“It interests me. It affects my fate,” she replied.
⁴⁷⁸
“I shall never be able to understand—”

Curran cut her off saying that her attorney had already argued her case. Comparing her crimes with those of Douglas Chandler and Robert H. Best (both of whom received life sentences), the judge acknowledged that Mildred did not participate in “conferences with high Nazi officials to formulate policy.” Therefore, he sentenced Axis Sally to a 10-to-30-year sentence with a $10,000 fine. She raised her chin, turned quickly and walked out of the courtroom. Aware that her sister was playing the lead role in the greatest drama of her life, Edna Mae told reporters, “I don’t think Ethel Barrymore could have done a better job of taking the verdict.”
⁴⁷⁹

Reaction to the sentence was swift and nearly unanimous. “She should have been strung up,” one ex-soldier said in response to the verdict. “That’s my opinion and every man in the Ninth Division would agree with me…. She knew where you were located and she’d tell us to expect a visit and then they’d come over and bomb the hell out of us.”
⁴⁸⁰
Some residents of her former hometown felt she should be shot. The Herricks returned to Ashtabula, Ohio, to face years of both open discrimination and quiet disdain. Edna Mae’s devotion to a half-sister she barely knew cost her family dearly. At the same time, Mildred became increasingly unappreciative of the sacrifices made for her.

“Gradually deteriorating”