Commandant of Auschwitz

by Rudolf Hoess

  This was not the case with those who had begun by dabbling in homosexuality for such reasons but had later become deeply addicted to their vice. They were comparable to the genuine homosexuals, of whom there were only a few examples. Neither the hardest work nor the strictest supervision was of any help in these cases. Whenever they found an opportunity they would fall into one another’s arms. Even when physically in a very bad way, they would continue to indulge in their vice. They were easy enough to pick out. Their soft and girlish affectations and fastidiousness, their sickly sweet manner of speech, and their altogether too affectionate deportment toward their fellows distinguished them from those who had put their vice behind them and wished to be free of it, and whose steps on the road to recovery were visible to any acute observer.

  Those who really wanted to renounce their vice, and were sufficiently strong-minded to do so, were able to stand up to the hardest work, but the others, each according to his constitution, gradually broke down physically. Because they could not or would not give up their vice, they knew that they would never be set free. The effect of this psychological burden on men whose natures were for the most part delicate and sensitive was to accelerate their physical collapse.

  Should one of these lose his “friend” through sickness, or perhaps death, then the end could be at once foreseen. Adany would commit suicide. To such natures, in such circumstances, the “friend” meant everything. There were many instances of “friends” committing suicide together.

  In 1944 the Reichsführer SS had “renunciation” tests carried out in Ravensbrück. Homosexuals whose recovery was still in doubt would be unobtrusively set to work in company with whores, and their behavior carefully observed. The whores were ordered to approach the homosexuals inconspicuously and attempt to excite them sexually. Those who were cured at once took advantage of this opportunity, and scarcely required any encouragement. The incurable ones took no notice whatever of these women, and if approached in too obvious a manner would turn away, trembling with disgust. The procedure then was for those who appeared fit for release to be given an opportunity of intercourse with their own sex. Almost all of them spurned the opportunity thus offered and firmly rejected the advances of the real homosexuals. There were borderline cases, individuals who took advantage of both opportunities. Whether these men could be described as bisexual, I do not know.

  I can only add that I found the habits and mentality of the various kinds of homosexuals, and the study of their psyches under prison conditions, extremely instructive.

  In Sachsenhausen there were quite a number of prominent prisoners and also a number of special prisoners.

  “Prominents” was the term given to those who had formerly played a part in public life. Most of them were treated as political prisoners and lived with others of their sort in the camp without any special privileges. At the beginning of the war their numbers were considerably increased by the re-arrest of former officials of the KPD, the German Communist Party, and the SPD, the German Social-Democratic Party.

  Special prisoners were those who, for reasons of state policy, were accommodated separately in or near a concentration camp. They were not allowed to mix with other prisoners. No one except those directly concerned was allowed to know the place of their imprisonment, or indeed that they were under arrest at all. Before the war there were only a few of them; but as the war went on their numbers increased considerably. Later I shall return to this subject.

  In 1939 a number of Czechoslovak professors and students and also some Polish professors from Cracow were imprisoned in Sachsenhausen. They were put in a special block in the camp. So far as I can remember they were not made to work, but neither were they given any special treatment. After a few weeks the professors from Cracow were released, because many German professors had spoken to Goering on their behalf and he had intervened with the Führer to have them set free.

  According to my recollection they amounted in all to about a hundred teachers. I myself only saw them on their arrival, and I heard nothing of them during their imprisonment.

  I must, however, give a more detailed account of one special prisoner, because of his unique behavior in prison and because I was in a position to know all the facts of the case.

  He was the evangelical pastor, Niemöller. He had been a famous U-boat commander in the First World War. He became a pastor after that war. The German evangelical church was split up into numerous separate groups. One of the most important of these groups, the Bekemnniskircbe or Confessional Church, was led by Niemöller. The Führer wished to see the evangelical church reunited into one, and with this aim in view he appointed an Evangelic State Bishop. But many of the groups refused to recognize him, and indeed were bitterly opposed to him. Niemöller was of their number. His parish was in Dalhem, a Berlin suburb. The whole of the Berlin and Potsdam reactionary evangelical opposition joined his congregation, all the old imperial nobility and others dissatisfied with the National Socialist regime. Niemöller preached resistance, and it was this which led to his arrest. He was accommodated in the cell building in Sachsenhausen, where his detention was made as light and pleasant as possible. He could write to his wife as often as he wished. His wife was allowed to visit him every month and to bring him whatever he wanted in the way of books and tobacco and food. He could, if he wished, go for walks in the courtyard of the cell building. His cell, too, was made as comfortable as possible. In short, everything was done for him that was in any way feasible. The commandant had been instructed to keep him constantly in mind and to inquire after his wishes.

  The Führer had an interest in persuading Niemöller to abandon the stand he had taken. Well-known people came to Sachsenhausen in order to reason with him, including Admiral Lanz, who was for many years his superior officer in the navy and who was also a member of the Confessional Church. But in vain. Niemöller firmly maintained his attitude that no state had the right to interfere with canon law or to promulgate new laws concerning the Church. These were entirely and solely the concern of the congregation of each church. The Bekenntniskirche flourished. Niemöller became its martyr. His wife was active in furthering his beliefs. I knew all about it, because I read all his mail and also listened to the conversations he had with visitors in the commandant’s quarters. In 1938 he wrote to the commander in chief of the navy, Grand Admiral Raeder, renouncing his right to wear the uniform of a naval officer since he was not in agreement with the state which that navy served. On the outbreak of war he volunteered for service, and requested to be given command of a U-boat. Now it was Hitler’s turn to refuse, on the grounds that Niemöller had declined to wear the uniform of the National Socialist State. As time went by, Niemöller began to flirt with the idea of going over to the Catholic Church. He produced the most curious arguments in support of this, even maintaining that in important matters the Catholic Church and his own were in agreement. His wife vigorously dissuaded him. In my opinion he believed that conversion to the Catholic Church would result in his obtaining his freedom. His followers, however, would never have gone over with him. I had many and searching discussions with Niemöller. He would discuss almost anything, and was interested in subjects far removed from his sphere, but as soon as the conversation turned on church matters, it was as though an iron curtain had been rung down. He stubbornly maintained his standpoint, and would brook no criticism of his obstinacy, however reasonable. Nevertheless his readiness to embrace the Catholic faith must have involved his willingness to recognize the state, since the Catholic Church had done so by virtue of the Concordat.[38]

  In 1941 the Reichsführer SS ordered all clerics to be transferred to Dachau, and Niemöller was among them. I saw him there in 19447 in the cell building. He was given even more freedom there, and had the former Evangelical Bishop of Posen, Wurm, to keep him company. He was in good health, despite his long years in prison. His physical needs were always most carefully catered for, and it is certain that nothing was ever done to offend his sensibilities. He w
as at all times treated with courtesy.[39]

  Whereas Dachau was predominantly red because the majority of the prisoners were politicals, Sachsenhausen was green.[40]

  The atmosphere in the camps varied accordingly, even though in both of them politicals had the most important jobs. In Dachau there was a certain esprit de corps among the prisoners; this was completely lacking in Sachsenhausen.

  The two main colors fought each other fiercely, and it was easy for the camp authorities to use this rivalry for their own ends, and to play the one off against the other.

  Escapes were relatively more numerous than in Dachau. Their preparation and execution were also far more subtle and elaborate.

  Although an escape in Dachau was regarded as a most unusual event, much more fuss was made in Sachsenhausen, because of the presence there of Eicke. As soon as the sirens went, Eicke, if he happened to be in Oranienburg, would hurry to the camp. He wanted to know every detail of the escape, and he systematically hunted out the culprits whose inattention or negligence had made it possible. The chain of sentry posts often had to stand to for three or four days, if there were reasons to believe that the missing man was still within their circle. For days and nights on end everything connected with the escape was subjected to the closest scrutiny. The officers and especially the commandant, the commander of the protective custody camp, and the officer of the day were given no respite. Eicke was perpetually asking for information as to the progress of the search. In his view no escape ought to be able to succeed. As a result of his keeping the chain of sentry posts standing to, the escaping prisoner, who had hidden himself somewhere or gone to earth, was usually found. But what a strain it was for the camp! The men often had to stand to for sixteen or twenty hours at a stretch. The prisoners had to stay where they were until the sentry posts were stood down. As long as the search continued they were not marched out to work, and only the most essential services maintained. If an escaped prisoner had managed to break through the line of sentry posts, or if he had escaped from a working squad outside the camp, an immense operation was set in motion for his recovery. All the resources of the SS and the police were called into play. The roads and railways were watched. Motorized police squads, equipped with radio apparatus, combed roads and highways. A guard was placed on all bridges over the numerous streams in the Oranienburg district. The occupants of remote houses were warned of the escape, although most of them already knew what had happened since they had heard the sirens. Prisoners were often recaptured thanks to the help given by the civilian population. Those who lived in the neighborhood were aware that the camp contained mostly professional criminals, and the idea of such men being on the loose frightened them. They would immediately report anything they saw to the camp or to the search parties.

  When an escaped prisoner was recaptured, he was led past the assembled prisoners, in Eicke’s presence if possible, wearing a large placard on which was written: “I am back.” In addition he was made to beat a large drum hung round his neck. After this parade he was given twenty-five strokes of the lash and assigned to the penal company.

  The SS man who had found or recaptured him would be commended in daily orders and given special leave. Police employed outside the camp or civilians received a monetary award. If an SS man managed, by care and vigilance, to prevent an escape, Eicke gave him special leave and promotion.

  Eicke insisted that absolutely everything be done to prevent escapes.

  If a prisoner did succeed in escaping, he insisted that every possible measure be taken for his recapture.

  Severe punishment was meted out to any SS man whose conduct had contributed to the escape, however slight the blame that could be attached to him.

  Prisoners who had helped another to escape were punished even more severely.

  I would like to give a description here of some unusual escapes.

  Seven professional criminals, all of them tough young men, managed to tunnel under the wire which ran beside their barracks, and one night they escaped into the woods. They had put the waste earth from the tunnel under the barracks, which was raised on piles; the entrance to the tunnel was under a bed. They had worked at the tunnel for several nights without being noticed by their fellow prisoners. A week later one of the escaped men was recognized by a block leader in a Berlin street and arrested. Under interrogation he revealed where his comrades were hidden, with the result that they were all recaptured.

  One of the homosexuals succeeded in escaping from the clay pit, despite the open nature of the country and the many sentry posts and wire entanglements. No clue could be found as to how the escape had been made. The outgoing trucks, filled with clay, were all checked personally by two SS men and the commanding officer of the work party. The search organization was set in motion and for days the nearby forests were combed, but without result. Just ten days later a teletype message was received from the frontier post at Warnemünde saying that the man had been brought in by fishermen. He was brought back to the camp and made to describe his escape. He had spent weeks preparing his flight, and had carefully considered all the possibilities. The only feasible one was the train that took the clay away from the pit. He worked hard and his industry was-noticed. He was given the job of greasing the trucks and looking after the tracks. For days on end he observed how the outgoing trains were controlled. Each truck was searched from top to bottom. The Diesel engine was examined as well, but he noticed that no one looked underneath it, for the guard plates reached almost to the rails. At the same time he noticed the rear guard plate hung quite loose. One day when the train stopped at the control point prior to it’s departure, he quickly crept under the engine and, hanging on between the two wheels, went off with it. At the first sharp curve, when the train reduced speed, he dropped between the rails. The train passed on over him. Then he vanished into the forest. He knew that he would have to head north. His escape had been rapidly discovered and the commanding officer of the work party had telephoned the alarm to the camp. The first action taken in such cases was to have the bridges guarded by motorized squads. When the prisoner reached the great Berlin-Stettin ship canal, he saw that the bridge was already guarded. He hid in a hollow tree from which he could keep a watch on the canal and the bridge. I myself had occasionally walked past this willow tree. When night fell, he swam the canal. He continued in a northerly direction, always avoiding roads and villages. He obtained civilian clothes from a workman’s hut in a sand pit. He lived on wild fruit and he milked the cows he found grazing in the meadows. Thus he managed to reach the Baltic by way of Mecklenburg. He had no difficulty in stealing a sailboat in a fishing village, and in this he sailed off toward Denmark. Shortly before reaching Danish territorial waters, he ran into a party of fishermen who recognized the boat. They at once suspected him as a runaway, detained him, and handed him over in Warnermünde.

  A professional criminal from Berlin, a decorator by trade, worked in the houses occupied by the SS inside the ring of sentry posts. He had formed a liaison with a servant girl employed by a doctor and he repeatedly came to the doctor’s house where there was always work to be done. Neither the doctor nor his wife was aware of the intimate relationship between their maid and the prisoner. The doctor and his wife went away from time to time and, while they were away, the girl was given a holiday. This was the prisoner’s opportunity. The girl had left a window open in the cellar, and through this he climbed in after he had observed the departure of her employers. He removed a plank from one wall on the top floor and made a hiding place for himself in the attic. He bored a hole through the wooden outside wall and was thus able to observe most of the sentry posts and the SS encampment. He laid in a stock of food and drink, and a pistol against emergencies. When the alarm went, he crept into his hiding place, pulled a heavy piece of furniture against the place where the plank had been, and waited. When an escape was made, the houses in the SS encampment were also searched. I myself searched this very house on the day of the escape, for the fact th
at it was unoccupied had made me suspicious. I saw nothing unusual, however, even though I stood in the very room where the fugitive was crouched behind the wall with his pistol cocked. He said later that he would certainly have fired if he had been discovered. He was determined to gain his freedom at all costs, since an investigation was under way into his complicity in a robbery with murder that had happened some years before, and he had been betrayed out of homosexual jealousy by an accomplice in the camp. The sentries stood to for four days. On the fifth day he took the early morning train to Berlin. He had quite calmly taken his choice of the doctor’s wardrobe, and had made free with the contents of the larder and cellar, as the many empty liquor and wine bottles showed. He had filled two large suitcases with silver, linen, cameras, and other valuable articles. He took his time in deciding what he wanted. He was arrested a few days later in an obscure gin shop where, quite by chance, he was arrested by a police patrol in the act of converting the contents of his last suitcase into cash.

  He had arranged to meet the servant girl, and she was sent to Ravensbrück.

  The doctor was certainly surprised when he came back to his house. Eicke wanted to call him to account because of the pistol, but he let it pass when the doctor offered a large sum of money in compensation.

  These are just three incidents that I can recall offhand, a small cross section of the richly varied life of a concentration camp.

  If I remember correctly I became commander of the protective custody camp in Sachsenhausen about Christmas 1939.

  In January 1940 a surprise visit from the Reichsführer SS resulted in a change of commandant.

  Loritz arrived. He let it be understood that he intended to bring the camp, which according to the Reichsführer SS had become undisciplined, “back into line.” Loritz was well able to do this. As Rapportführer at Dachau in 1936, I had already taken part in a similar operation of his.