The Last Battle

by Stephen Harding

  Not coincidentally, Lee’s candidacy was announced in his home county the same week that Meyer Levin’s account of the fight for Schloss Itter, “We Liberated Who’s Who,” appeared in the Saturday Evening Post. While the magazine piece and several laudatory articles about Lee’s actions in the battle—coupled with news of the young tank officer’s Distinguished Service Cross—undoubtedly helped garner him some votes, Lee was ultimately unable to parlay his war record into public office; he lost the election by a substantial margin.

  Lee finally returned to the United States in late January 1946 and was released from active duty at Fort Dix, New Jersey, on February 2, and transferred to the inactive reserve with the rank of captain.[317] And from that point on his life seems to have gone into a slow but seemingly inexorable downward spiral. Though he played several seasons of minor league football with the New Jersey Giants of the short-lived American Association, he was unable to win a berth on a pro team and turned to coaching local semipro and farm-club teams. He found work as a bartender, and, not surprisingly, his own drinking increased. At some point—the exact date is unclear—he and his wife, Virginia, split up, and she took their young son[318] to California and eventually obtained a divorce. In the early 1950s Lee decided to go into the hospitality business and made a deal to buy the historic Eagle Hotel in New Berlin, New York. He took possession of the structure but was ultimately unable to make the final payments, and when the former owner took him to court, Lee lost the hotel. In a separate legal difficulty, Lee was charged with assaulting his sister’s estranged husband and was ultimately fined $50 and put on probation.

  Details of Jack Lee’s subsequent life are few, though we do know some things. He married a second time, to a woman named Stella Evans, a waitress whom he’d met while working as a bartender. She eventually divorced him—also because of his drinking. After the failure of his second marriage Lee lived for a few years in Texas City, Texas, but by the time of his father’s death in 1961 he was living in Long Beach, California; during his time in the Golden State (perhaps searching for Virginia and his son?) he apparently spent many hours with his old friend Harry Basse. How Lee made his living is unclear, as is the date when he returned to Norwich. At some point he married for a third time, to the former Nellie Porter, though he never had additional children. As to the last important date in Jack Lee’s life there is no doubt: he died at Chenango Memorial Hospital in Norwich on January 15, 1973, at the relatively young age of fifty-four. The cause of death was listed as “asphyxiation,” likely as the result of acute alcohol poisoning.[319]

  While Lee’s obituary in the local newspaper mentioned his role in the battle for Schloss Itter—which the piece’s author located in France rather than Austria—the man who’d led the rescue mission and the castle’s defense had perhaps the most succinct summation of that improbable fight: A few months before his death, Lee was asked by a reporter in Norwich how he felt about the long-ago incident. The hero of “the Last Battle” thought for a minute and then replied, “Well, it was just the damnedest thing.”

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  Sited atop a hill that commands the entrance to Austria’s Brixental Valley, Schloss Itter is first mentioned in the historical record in 1241. Damaged, rebuilt, and enlarged over the centuries, before its 1941 conversion into a VIP prison it had served successively as a military fortress, a private home, and a boutique hotel. (Author’s collection)

  German police march into Tyrol following Germany’s March 12, 1938, annexation of Austria. The Anschluss led directly to Schloss Itter’s transformation from fairytale castle and hotel into something decidedly more sinister. (National Archives)

  The network of “special prisons” maintained by the Nazis grew from Adolf Hitler’s belief that important prisoners might prove of value in negotiations with the Allies. Ehrenhäftlinge—honor prisoners—were housed in reasonably good conditions in castles, hotels, and similar facilities throughout the Reich, though their continued good health relied solely on the führer’s whim. (National Archives)

  Though Hitler fully supported the work of the Schloss Itter–based “Alliance for Combating the Dangers of Tobacco,” Reichsführer der SS Heinrich Himmler believed the Austrian castle was ideal for more nefarious purposes. On November 23, 1942, he got Hitler to sign an order to begin the process of acquiring the castle outright for “special SS use,” and Schloss Itter was officially requisitioned by the SS in February 1943. (National Archives)

  SS Major General Theodor Eicke, the director of the Nazis’ concentration camp system and originator of the “inflexible harshness” doctrine applied to KZ prisoners, directed that Sebastian Wimmer and the commanders of other honor prisoners’ facilities treat their prisoners well but stand ready to execute the VIPs at a moment’s notice, without compunction and without remorse. (National Archives)

  Plans for Schloss Itter’s conversion from an antismoking administrative center into a high-security honor prisoner facility were apparently overseen by no less a personage than Albert Speer, Hitler’s minister of armaments and war production. (National Archives)

  By the time he arrived at Schloss Itter, General Maurice Gamelin had spent more than fifty of his seventy-one years as an officer in his nation’s army. His career was marred, however, when his poor response to Germany’s May 1940 invasion of France led Prime Minster Paul Reynaud to replace him as supreme military commander with archrival General Maxime Weygand. (National Archives)

  Stocky, barrel-chested, and pugnacious, sixty-one-year-old Édouard Daladier was the youngest of the three VIPs whose arrival at Schloss Itter on May 2, 1943, marked the castle’s official opening as a prison. (National Archives)

  Seen here during a prewar visit to the United States, labor leader Léon Jouhaux and his colleague and longtime companion Augusta Bruchlen both ended up imprisoned in Schloss Itter; Bruchlen’s incarceration in the Tyrolean fortress was voluntary, Jouhaux’s was not. (National Archives)

  Sent to Schloss Itter in May 1943, Paul Reynaud was horrified to discover that his arch political rival Édouard Daladier had preceded him but was relieved to find conditions at the castle far better than those he’d experienced at Sachsenhausen concentration camp. (National Archives)

  Though Jean Borotra—the famed “Bounding Basque”—willingly joined Marshal Philippe Pétain’s collaborationist Vichy government following France’s capitulation, the tennis star’s less-than-discrete disdain for the Nazis led to his dismissal and ultimate arrest. Borotra encountered Paul Reynaud at Sachsenhausen, and the two remained friends at Schloss Itter despite their differing politics. (National Archives)

  Upon his December 1943 arrival at Schloss Itter, General Maxime Weygand encountered immediate vituperation from Paul Reynaud and only less obvious hostility from Maurice Gamelin; the former considered Weygand a traitor to France, and the latter burned with professional embarrassment. (National Archives)

  Though Michel Clemenceau had been a longtime admirer of Pétain, he became an outspoken critic of what he saw as the aged general’s willingness to collaborate with the Germans. Clemenceau’s views quickly drew the attention of the Gestapo, and he was arrested in May 1943. His calm self-possession upon arrival at Schloss Itter prompted Reynaud to note that the castle’s other VIP prisoners were reassured by Clemenceau’s “unshakable confidence.” (National Archives)

  Until his arrest by the Gestapo in 1943, François de La Rocque had been a key member of the Vichy government, a confidant of Pétain, and a man widely viewed as one of France’s leading fascists. His arrival at Schloss Itter was thus a surprise to the other VIP prisoners, who would have been further astounded to learn that de La Rocque led a resistance movement that provided valuable information to British intelligence. (National Archives)

  SS-Lieutenant Colonel Wilhelm Eduard Weiter, the last commandant of Dachau, arrived at Schloss Itter with his retinue on April 30, 1945. His suicide just 48 hours later prompted Sebastian Wimmer and his troops to abandon the castle and its VIP prisoner
s. (National Archives)

  During his four years at Vermont’s Norwich University, John Carey Lee Jr. was known for both his football skills and his equestrian abilities and is seen here following his May 11, 1942, graduation and commissioning as a second lieutenant of cavalry. (Photo courtesy Robert D. Lee)

  Upon his graduation from Norwich, Lee received orders to attend the basic armor officer course at Fort Knox, Kentucky, and lingered in New York only long enough to marry a woman named Virginia, the first of his eventual three wives. (Photo courtesy Robert D. Lee)

  Taken about two months before the battle at Schloss Itter, this image depicts Company B commander Jack Lee (at right) with, from left, 2nd Lieutenant John Powell, one of Lee’s platoon leaders, and 1st Lieutenant Harry Basse, Company B’s motor officer and Lee’s closest friend in the unit. Within weeks Powell was dead and Lee and Basse had both been lightly wounded. (Photo courtesy Robert D. Lee)

  Following the 23rd Tank Battalion’s mauling during the January 1945 Battle of Herrlisheim, Jack Lee’s Company B was reequipped with the improved M4A3(76)W version of the Sherman tank. Also referred to as the M4A3E8, the variant was widely known as the “Easy Eight.” By the time of the Schloss Itter mission, the second Besotten Jenny would have appeared virtually identical to the well-worn 10th Armored Division vehicle shown here. (U.S. Army photo, courtesy Steven Zaloga)

  A tanker stows main-gun rounds in the “wet” ammunition-stowage racks in the floor of an “Easy Eight.” The system was intended to prevent the Sherman’s 76mm rounds from detonating if the tank’s hull was breeched by enemy fire. It was a feature that would prove extremely important for Besotten Jenny during the battle for Schloss Itter. (U.S. Army photo courtesy Steven Zaloga)

  Black soldiers of Company D, 17th Armored Infantry Battalion, clear German civilians from a recently captured town. Though most secondhand accounts of the Schloss Itter action state that Jack Lee tapped several Company D troops to take part in the rescue mission, the author’s research has shown that the four U.S. infantrymen who rode aboard Lee’s tank and helped defend the castle were actually drawn from the all-white 2nd Platoon, Company E, 2nd Battalion, 142nd Infantry Regiment. (U.S. Army photo courtesy Steven Zaloga)

  Soldiers of the crack 17th SS Panzer Grenadier Division “Götz von Berlichingen” take a break from the intense hedgerow fighting that followed the June 1944 Allied landing in Normandy. Less than a year later elements of the Waffen-SS unit would besiege Schloss Itter. (National Archives)

  A career soldier three times decorated for bravery in combat against his nation’s enemies, Wehrmacht Major Josef “Sepp” Gangl willingly chose to put his life in even more direct peril in order to help Jack Lee save a querulous group of French VIPs locked away in a fairytale Austrian castle. (National Archives)

  For most of his military career the personification of the dedicated Waffen-SS officer, Hauptsturmführer Kurt-Siegfried Schrader nonetheless threw in his lot with Lee, Gangl, and Schloss Itter’s French prisoners. (National Archives courtesy John Moore)

  Maj. John T. Kramers (seen here in a postwar photo), a German-speaking former artilleryman assigned to the 103rd Infantry Division’s military-government section, was unaware of Jack Lee’s rescue force and launched his own effort to secure the French VIPs at Schloss Itter. (Photo courtesy John T. Kramers)

  A Seventh Army military policeman chats with (from left), Léon Jouhaux, François de La Rocque, Jean Borotra, and Marcel Granger following their rescue. (National Archives)

  Major General Anthony C. McAuliffe, commander of the 103rd Infantry Division, poses for a photo at his Innsbruck headquarters with former Schloss Itter honor prisoners (from left) Paul Reynaud, Marie-Renée-Joséphine Weygand, Maurice Gamelin, Édouard Daladier, and Maxime Weygand. (National Archives)

  Though Jack Lee is smiling in this 1947 photo taken outside Hand’s Inn in Norwich, NY, where he found employment after his plans for a profootball career fell through, his life went into a slow but seemingly inexorable downward spiral after World War II. The hero of “The Last Battle” died on Jan. 15, 1973, at the age of 54. (Photo courtesy James I. Dunne)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  WRITING HISTORY IS ALWAYS CHALLENGING, in that the passage of time often obscures the truth rather than revealing it. Eyewitnesses pass away, memories fade, and records—if they were kept at all—are destroyed as being no longer relevant or simply disappear into bureaucratic oblivion. And there is an added difficulty when we try to write accurate accounts of military actions: the exhaustion, fear, exhilaration, panic, and sheer volume of war ensure that participants in the same battle will forever remember it in profoundly different ways.

  That being said, it is the historian’s duty to diligently search out whatever documents remain and, if writing about relatively recent events, any participants who may still be alive. Much as a detective evaluates evidence through knowledge of the subject and the application of both logic and common sense, the historian assesses the available information and then weaves all the various strands into an account that is as accurate and complete as possible. For many who choose to write history, myself included, the hunt for the information on which the final story is based is the most enjoyable part of the process, even though it is often the most frustrating.

  Fortunately, in researching The Last Battle I have been ably and generously assisted by a number of people in the United States and abroad. Their help has been immensely important, and I greatly appreciate it. Any errors or omissions in this volume are, of course, mine alone.

  Above all, I wish to thank my wife, Margaret Spragins Harding. This book would literally not have been possible without her love, support, counsel, limitless patience, and extraordinary skills as a French linguist. She is the most remarkable human being I have ever encountered, and I am truly blessed to have her in my life.

  I would also particularly like to thank Dr. Alfred Beck, an eminent historian and true gentleman, who many years ago—when we both worked at the U.S. Army Center of Military History—first told me of an odd little battle in Austria in May 1945 that involved Germans, Americans, and a gaggle of French VIPs. Thanks also to my agent, Scott Mendel, for his excellent advice and guidance; Robert Pigeon, my editor at Da Capo, for his friendship and assistance in shaping and improving the manuscript; and Bryce Zabel, friend and screenwriter, for suggesting that the Schloss Itter story would make just as good a book as it will a screenplay.

  I am also indebted to:

  IN THE UNITED STATES:

  My colleagues Michael W. Robbins, David Lauterborn, Dan Smith, and Jennifer Berry at Weider History Group’s Military History magazine for putting up with my frequent absences and almost continuous preoccupation while writing this book.

  Karen Jensen and Wendy Palitz, both of Weider’s World War II magazine; editor Karen for commissioning me to write the article from which this book evolved, and art director Wendy for both her friendship and the article’s wonderful design.

  Thomas Culbert and Mike Constandy for their dogged research work at the National Archives.

  Joe Basse for providing information on, and photos of, his father, Harry Basse.

  Robert D. Lee for providing information on, and photos of, his uncle John C. Lee.

  John Kramers, Arthur Pollock, and Edward Seiner for their personal recollections of the battle for Schloss Itter.

  Victoria Haglan for her excellent German translations.

  Patricia E. Evans, Chenango County, New York, historian, for locating and providing background material on John Lee and his family.

  Gail Wiese, Jennifer Payne, and Kelly Gonzalez of Norwich University’s Archives and Special Collections for their help in researching John Lee’s time at the university.

  Veterans of the 12th Armored Division F. George Hatt and Steve Czecha and 23rd Tank Battalion veterans James Francis and John McBride, all for their help in researching their units and the men who served in them.

  Lisa Sharik and the staff of the Texas Military Forces M
useum and Kyle Wiskow and the staff of the 12th Armored Division Museum for their research assistance.

  John P. Moore for providing vital background information on Kurt-Siegfried Schrader.

  John Browning for information on his brother William Browning, squad leader in Company E, 142nd Infantry Regiment.

  Ron Thomassin for providing photos of Harry Basse.

  Megan Lewis at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum for her research efforts on Sebastian Wimmer and Stefan Otto.

  IN AUSTRIA:

  The staff of Gemiende Itter, who were tremendously helpful both via e-mail and during my visit to Schloss Itter; Robert Kaller of Vienna’s Institut für Zeitgeschichte; Hedi Wechner, current mayor of Wörgl; Otto Hagleitner, for information on his father, Rupert; and Dr. Wilfred Beimroh and the staff of the Tiroler Landesarchiv.

  IN FRANCE:

  Evelyne Demey Paul-Reynaud, for sharing family history and photographs of her parents taken while they were imprisoned in Schloss Itter.