Battleship Bismarck (69 page)

There followed days of rather monotonous routine, of the obligation to kill time; nothing else was to be expected in a transit camp, where men did not make preparations for a long stay. A few were interrogated again by a British intelligence officer, politically “shaken out.” Indeed, it was of concern to the British to pass the German prisoners of war sent from Canada to the main camps according
to their criteria and, as far as possible, without too great error, the “blacks” and the “dark grays” to Camp 17 near Sheffield, the “whites” and the “light grays” to Camp 18 in Northumberland.

When, as a member of a large group, I first glimpsed Camp 18, the Featherstone Park Camp near Haltwhistle in Northumberland late in March 1946 something unusual was immediately evident. There was no barbed wire; no watchtowers; British guards were nowhere in sight. I saw German prisoners leisurely strolling outside the camp area, completely without British “supervision”; their simple word of honor sufficed now. Immense in its extent, the camp then housed around 2,500 inmates, and over the course of time a total of 4,000 officers and 20,000 noncommissioned officers and men would pass through Featherstone Park. The accommodations were not exactly comfortable in the long, low, slope-ceilinged and not always rainproof—and a mass of rain would fall in this summer of 1946—Nissen huts, which supposedly had served as quarters for part of the U.S. Army before the invasion of Normandy in June 1944. What a comedown from Bowmanville, I could not help thinking, but what did it matter; now, so close to going home, I could put up with (almost) anything. I found lodging in a hut occupied exclusively by naval officers, the “Navy Barracks.” In it lived ranks from Kapitän zur See to Fähnrich. New and old captives were now together, not just in my hut, but, in keeping with the arrival of transports from overseas, throughout the entire camp: prisoners of war from the years 1939 through 1945. What impression did the “Germans from Canada,” the men who had been captured between 1939 and 1942, make on their British interrogators? Between February 1946 and February 1947, 33,400 German PoWs arrived from Canada. Of all the PoWs who came to Britain after the war, they were the most steeped in the Nazi outlook. Let us read the screeners’ report:

The vast majority are young men in the 20’s and 30’s who fought with the Africa Korps and have been prisoners from as early as 1941/42. A certain number were captured in 1939/40 in Holland and on the high seas. All these men picture Europe and Germany as they were before the war and cannot appreciate the vast material changes and the alteration in the mental outlook of Europeans which have taken place since that time.

PW camps in Canada were very large and more intensively Nazi than Germany itself. The German camp staffs were all senior NCOs and former Party members, fanatically imbued with the Nazi philosophy. Even the slightest criticism or expression of doubt as to the eventual
German victory was suppressed with all the ruthlessness of Nazi terrorism. That this is no overstatement is shown by the fact that in Camp 123 (Medicine Hat) two anti-Nazis were tried in secret and subsequently brutally murdered. The second of these political murders took place as late as September 1944.

All the PW lived in a political vacuum up to the end of the war and the types of men who would have been “greys” a long time ago in the camps in this country are today still “blacks.” They only lost faith in Hitler after the war.

One encouraging factor is the “A-plus” and “A” categories. All these men were persecuted for their courageous opposition and most of them had to be transferred to a special protection camp in order that their lives should be safeguarded.…

Of the 1,200 officers screened most had been captured early from the Afrika Korps. In part they have become quite different people and ascribe the change to the influence of reeducation in Canada, contact with civilians and the writings of Dorothy Thompson.
*

And an impression of how the arrival of the “Canadians” affected other German prisoners, this time in a British work camp:

The new intakes from USA and Canada, totalling over 50% of the strength, have adversely affected the political complexion. 95% of the Ps/W from Canada and 60% of Ps/W from USA are said to be ardent Nazis. On arrival many of them gave the Hitler salute and discarded very reluctantly the Nazi insignia. The white element in the camp was shocked and bewildered, realising that their reeducational efforts had to be started anew.
†

Did these British observations of a more differentiating political outlook, particularly among the Germans captured towards the end of the war, also hold true of the naval officers concentrated in Featherstone Park? Would not the shock of the atrocities of the Hitler regime, which became visible to everybody after the total military defeat, have driven them, too, to a fundamental reappraisal and re-evaluation of the last twelve years? I myself was extremely anxious to see it happen: for example, the admission that for more than a decade one had erred disastrously—had served a false idol and mass murderer, a regime of the crudest cynicism and most revolting immorality. In the last few weeks, hadn’t everyone had the opportunity to let
his eyes be opened by the exceptionally extensive sources of information at Featherstone Park?

To pose all these questions means to answer them in the negative, aside from a very few exceptions. In the vast majority of cases, the officers persisted in a sort of last-ditch obstinacy. And the individual naval officer really “couldn’t help” that this was so. “Unity” of thought in the officer corps, whose self-image was still affected by the 1918 mutiny,
*
the all the more absolute “toeing the line” of prescribed standards, the “Unity of the Navy” from inside and out which was advertised by the especially authoritarian naval leadership under Raeder—all these belonged to the cardinal demands that the navy made upon its officers. Binding “rules on what to say and what not to say” promoted such an homogenous outward appearance—the navy was and remained “united” until the end and afterwards, “united” on the wrong course, to be sure, Hitler’s course, but nevertheless “united,” for Hitler was the Ver-Führer
†
of the nation and unity the trademark of the navy. A tight social circle quickly imprinted the individual with its approved views, ensnared him in Hitler’s criminal system (which was not recognized as such), and the German spirit of subordination and a misunderstood oath of allegiance impelled him to the end along a course directly contrary to the well-understood interests and needs of his nation. How had Grossadmiral Raeder still formulated the political requirements of the day in his address to the officers of the Oberkommando der Kriegsmarine on 30 January 1943 upon the occasion of laying down his supreme command?

I believe you will agree with me that in the year 1933 I succeeded in leading the navy unitedly and smoothly behind the Führer into the Third Reich. That was made easy by the fact that, in spite of all outside influences, the whole education of the navy during the time of the “System”
‡
aimed at an attitude that of itself produced a truly National Socialistic outlook. For this reason we ourselves had nothing to change and could with sincere hearts become true adherents of the Führer from the first. It has filled me with special satisfaction that the Führer has always valued this highly and I would like to ask you all to work to see that the navy remains a firm and reliable support for the Führer in this respect, as well.

To simply ignore such postulates, to let such words glance off, deservedly—under the conditions of naval training, not many would be given to doing that. Still deeply depressed by the shocking films of Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen, in Featherstone Park I told a naval officer who seemed to me relatively tolerant: “I regard the outcome of the war as a divine judgment.” He did not agree with me, he replied, remaining quite calm. “Well, everyone is entitled to his own opinion,” I said. “It is already a gain, in comparison to time past, that someone can say something like that without immediately setting off an explosion.”

Of course, it was a completely different matter to see navy comrades again in Featherstone Park on a purely personal basis. They lived not only in the “Navy Barracks,” but also in other huts scattered throughout the immense camp, collectively a substantial number. And so there were many reunions, with friends, acquaintances, participants in the same operations and peacetime cruises. And there was so much to tell; it was always as though no more than a day had passed since we parted. The intimacy seemed so complete that it brought out the finest aspects of navy fellowship. The profession of naval officer was indeed a very attractive one on the whole; life in the navy had a singular charm—had not Hitler’s evil shadow fallen over each and all.

The freedom of activities in Featherstone Park entirely accorded with the readiness of the British administration to provide any reasonable assistance to the German prisoners. Soon after the camp’s opening, a university, academic and other study groups, a theater, a “church” converted from a barracks for both denominations, and a symphony orchestra were established. The university offered a complete lecture program in law, political science, economics, history, philosophy, and philology. The faculty was recruited from the large numbers of reservists in camp. The study groups, led by former college professors and journalists, concerned themselves primarily with the German political past. Foreign university professors also taught and debated and gave lecture series in camp. Once the British assembled a “Brain Trust” to exercise us: “You ask, we answer—How can Germany solve the social problem?” On this topic spoke radical socialists, a young man with good common sense, an advocate of state-controlled private enterprise, an objective-minded economist, a socialist worker, an intellectual Social Democrat, and a Christian social thinker. All this was highly interesting, not the least for the technique, the method of discussion, offered by representatives of a nation with centuries of experience in it.

For the theater, two groups were formed, one for serious pieces, the other for sketches and merrier things. The serious played, among others,
The Death of Danton, William Tell, The Broken Pitcher
, and
The Captain from Köpenick
. The most splendid costumes were conjured from old sacks and dyes, armaments from tin cans. The inmates of the camp included a writer’s son who functioned as head producer, helping to select and work up pieces. Women’s roles were deleted, with a single exception—for Shakespeare’s
Troilus and Cressida
, men had to step forward. Many professional musicians played in the symphony orchestra; we enjoyed grand evenings of music and occasionally even the performance of an operetta.

From the beginning, the British had allowed the German leadership of this camp, established in 1945 and kept free of “incorrigible Nazis,” access to the country’s press. A German “press officer” gave newscasts from a selection of newspapers. Later the supply became more generous. Each barracks could receive its own newspapers;
The Times, The Manchester Guardian
, and
The Spectator
—a weekly magazine—were read, for example. From them newscasts were put together and periodically announced. I myself did this for the “Navy Barracks” for a while. In time, the British also permitted the publication of an uncensored German camp newspaper. It appeared under the title
Die Zeit am Tyne
(“The Time on the Tyne”). The first political voices from Germany reached us through a central press office. None was more passionate and moving than that of Kurt Schumacher, who with only a brief interruption had been tormented in Hitler’s concentration camps from 1933 to 1945. A fiery anti-Communist, rejecting any collaboration with Communists anywhere, he vehemently called for the reunification of Germany and the integration of a free, complete Germany into a free Europe. He proclaimed a political concept that was very agreeable to me; as national minded as ever, I was still disconsolate over the loss of the unity of the Reich.

For the generosity extended to us during this last camp life, on the British side we had to thank first of all the commandant of Featherstone Park, Lieutenant Colonel Vickers. He was the worthy exponent of an honorable ex-enemy’s readiness to effect a reconciliation. At his side stood the British Foreign Office Representative for PoW camps in Northern England, Colonel Henry Faulk. Faulk had been recommended for his difficult mission of the “reeducation” of German prisoners by his knowledge of group psychology; he later wrote about it. At the time he saw his task as follows: “According to the Yalta agreements the Germans were to be demilitarized, deNazified and
democratized. Great Britain had promptly begun that in 1945. It was up to me to carry out the appropriate work in the German prisoner-of-war camps. Up to then the German prisoner was not a man but a ‘Nazi,’ a concept that inspired revulsion and fright. But my experience showed me that the German prisoner was a man. And so the original ‘reeducation’ ended in an enthusiastic collaboration for our common future in a new Europe.”

In his daily work, Faulk quickly recognized that the purely political thrust of “reeducation” envisioned at Yalta was misdirected. To reeducate a National Socialist into a “democrat” without prejudice to his relationship to the German people? In practice, he soon came to view this sort of task as unrealistic.

The problem was a human one. Every man must feel that he has a right to belong to a group. Until the German capitulation, the rejection of National Socialism meant that one would be cast out of the group. Only a very few Germans dared to expose themselves to that danger. For this reason, the prisoners of war almost exclusively professed National Socialism until the end of the war. After the capitulation Nazism was dead and the prisoners, like all other Germans, needed a new group system. And at this time the British began the attempt to place humanity, human rights and human dignity in the forefront of the efforts being made with the prisoners. The prisoner should re-think about human life, but not about the political system. It was a disadvantage for this new attempt that the prisoner still viewed “reeducation” as a political symbol. He embraced, accordingly encouraged, democratic organizational forms, but only very superficially, even purely organizationally. The actual political influence of this area of “reeducation” remained small. On the other hand, almost all prisoners were influenced by the new attempt to place the whole problem on the human level, in connection with which they did not perceive that this spirit, too, could not take effect without organizational forms. In the confined camp life, even the most intelligent among them often lacked perspective and they tended to judge the big picture on the basis of local circumstances and personal relationships. At any rate, the most important thing was to bring the prisoners as much as possible into contact with the best British examples. Unfortunately, there were not enough of these and in some instances they were complete failures. But everyone was full of good will, which led to the end result that “different men” left the camp than had entered it.