The Odyssey of a U-Boat Commander

by Erich Topp

  But in Donitz's case something needed to be done if we wanted to live with a clear conscience afterwards. Thus we began the tiresome process of drafting and circulating a petition on behalf of Grand Admiral Donitz. It was a difficult process because our means of communication were very limited. We had no telephones. You needed special permits to move from one occupation zone into another. We had no paper, let alone a typewriter. After I had drafted the appeal, Donitz's defense council, Kranzbuhler, made sure that the wording was in line with the terminology used by the Nuremberg Tribunal. Then we arranged that all living and prominent U-boat commanders signed the document. We translated the petition into English, French, Russian, and Latin (for the Vatican). I harbored no illusions about the impact of our action, but I felt I had to do it no matter what.

  Even today, after having studied Donitz's achievements and mistakes in great detail, and not unaware of his human weaknesses and political delusions, I stand behind my decision of 1946. I seem to be in good company. In his book, Pour retablir une aerite, the former French President Georges Pompidou cites General de Gaulle's assessment of the Nuremberg Trials: "In Nuremberg they got everything confused. They executed the generals, that was the mistake."

  To the

  Allied Control Council of Germany

  Re: Review of the Nuremberg Verdict against Grand Admiral Donitz

  As representatives of the German U-boat arm in the past war we hereby address the Allied Control Council and appeal to its human and military conscience. We act as spokesmen for the former members of the German U-boat force who we know are united in their thoughts and feelings about this matter. We gain this conviction from the fact that most officers and enlisted men of the U-boat branch were either trained by us or served with us at sea. We know the hearts of these men. They think the way we do. Our appeal stems from our collective quest for justice.

  We hereby ask for the review and repeal of the verdict against Grand Admiral DOnitz because we are deeply convinced that the crimes he has been accused of do not exist.

  The U-boat war was begun according to the rules laid down in international law and, once our enemies intensified their countermeasures, carried on under orders from the Grand Admiral, as detailed by the defense council Fleet Judge Kranzbuhler. The war was fought consistent with our own conscience and our sense of justice. We were never asked to do more than what a soldier's ethos will allow anywhere in the world.

  There never was an order to kill shipwrecked sailors. Already at the trial this fact was attested to under oath by a great number of U-boat commanders. Those, however, who violated the principle of coming to the aid of shipwrecked persons after ensuring the safety of their own boat and crew, did so against the standing orders of their superiors. Those who took the Laconia order or other utterances of our Grand Admiral to mean that they had license to kill shipwrecked sailors, can only have acted in such a way based on their own psychological complexes. Their interpretation went against the very spirit of the U-boat service. Their number is very small in comparison to the vast majority of U-boat men who stayed within their orders.

  We do not know all the details of the indictment or how far time limits apply to the accusations and charges expressed at the trial. Nor can we speak to the kind and weight of the political accusations that have been lodged against the Grand Admiral. Press reports have been vague in these matters. But we know the personality of our Grand Admiral, and we have come to learn what kind of man DOnitz is in five years of fierce fighting. Not once has this man asked us to do anything dishonorable. His intentions and his principles always reflected highest moral standards and restraint. We are deeply convinced that he, too, never acted in a dishonorable fashion.

  We believe we speak out in the name of a universal military conscience. Soldiers and sailors do not understand when one of them is being convicted because he has fought for his fatherland and thus for a good thing, and has done his duty. After all wars soldiers have been the first to reach out to their former enemies because soldiers respected one another with a clear conscience. We know that the verdict has also painfully touched the sense of fairness, justice, and chivalry among Allied soldiers.

  Given our personal experiences in this war, given our understanding of the principle under which this war at sea has been fought, and knowing the personality of our Grand Admiral, we ask that you do not defame with the verdict against this military man a service branch that has proved through its high percentage of casualties that it fought a just and honest struggle.

  We also ask that the clean record of these dead as well as of the living not be tainted by marking the person of their highly revered superior and his actions as criminal.

  In Germany, September 1946

  [Signed by: Junior Captain (ret.) Erich Topp; Junior Captain (ret.) Reinhard Suhren; Commander (ret.) Otto Schuhart; Commander (ret.) Carl Emmermann; Captain (ret.) Viktor Schutze; Commander (ret.) Hans Witt; Commander (ret.) Georg Lassen; Commander (ret.) Ulrich Heyse; Commander (ret.) Otto von Bulow; Commander (ret.) Ali Cremer; Junior Captain (ret.) Heinrich Lehmann-Willenbrock; Lieutenant Commander (ret.) Karl-Heinz Wiebe; Junior Captain (ret.) Victor Oehrn; Junior Captain (ret.) Rolf Rugge- berg; Junior Captain (ret.) Hans Eckermann; Commander (ret.) Ernst Bauer; Commander (ret.) Wilhelm Schulz; Junior Captain (ret.) Albrecht Brandi; Commander (ret.) Adalbert Schnee; Lieutenant Commander (ret.) Hermann Rasch; Lieutenant Commander (ret.) August Maus]

  One day, while attending a lecture on art history, I was picked up by the British military police. This caused great excitement among my fellow students. A jeep took us to the former home of the Nazi district leader Hartmann Lauterbacher, now housing the British Intelligence Service. When I inquired what this was all about I was told, "You will find out soon enough." Since it was lunch time, I was first taken to the basement.

  Then a door opened and I was pushed into a dark room. When my eyes had become used to the darkness I faintly recognized several men sitting at a table. They were eating. Perhaps one's sense of smell is particularly sensitive in the darkness, but I perceived a terrible stench pervading the room. Its cause, as it turned out later, was a bucket hidden behind a curtain that was being used for basic human necessities.

  Someone asked me to join them at the table and to take off my coat. I told them: "That won't be necessary. They will come and get me out of here in a few minutes." Roaring laughter. "We were told the same thing, and now we have been here for eight days." We introduced ourselves. I can still remember a man named Messerschmidt, a couple of Party officials whose names I have forgotten, and a couple of ordinary people. One of them, a technician, told me his story: One night when he returned home from work his wife received him as usual, except that night she had some American cigarettes and coffee. She explained that a girlfriend of hers had visited her with an American soldier. This aroused the man's suspicion. The next day he saw an American radio set in the corner of his living room. In a fit of anger he threw the set out of the window. Thereupon he had been arrested and brought here on a charge of damaging Allied property.

  Contrary to precedent, I was indeed led out of that basement room after the lunch break. I found myself opposite a chief petty officer who seemed friendly and offered me some tea and cigarettes. The whole matter was about the code word "Rainbow," which the German naval broadcasting service had sent out after the surrender documents had been signed. The code word had resulted in the scuttling of most of Germany's remaining naval units. When the order was cancelled a short while later, much of the destruction had already occurred. The radio order violated the conditions of the capitulation. I was asked on whose authority "Rainbow" had been issued. With a clear conscience I answered that I did not know. But they would not believe me. "We will keep you here until your memory comes back!" I replied: "At the time I was not in Germany. We never received the order. As you know, the boats based in Norway were not destroyed." Then the petty officer requested that I give him my pay-book. I happened to have it with me. He leafed throu
gh it, probably to check where I had been posted at various times. At the back of the book was a little flap that I had used for small documents but now contained only a few postage stamps. The chief petty officer, evidently a philatelist, took great interest in the stamps, especially the 6-pfennig stamp of the Wehrmacht set that shows a U-boat commander operating the periscope. He asked me: "Who is this officer?" I said: "That's me!" He replied: "No, that's impossible." "Why don't you take a closer look?" He looked at me for some time, then back at the stamp, and finally agreed: "Indeed, you are right."

  This gave me my chance. I asked him, as if I did not know already, "Are you a stamp collector?" When he answered in the affirmative I said: "I'll give you the stamp as a gift." Since I suspected that he would decline the offer, I told him a little story: The picture on which the stamp is based came originally from a newsreel that a war correspondent had made while embarked on my boat during a war patrol. This newsreel was shown all over Germany. One day I received a letter from a young lady containing the original photograph. The latter shows me with my arms draped over the controls of the boat's periscope during a submerged attack. In pencil the young lady had written on the back of the picture: "I would like to be your periscope." "You see," I told my interrogator, "that was an offer. I did not take her up on it-something I later regretted. Perhaps she really was as charming as the words she had written. I really think you should accept my offer." He laughed, pocketed the stamp, and asked me where I would like to be taken. "To the train station," I replied. "I am sure my wife is anxious to see me." He had a car drive up, took me to the entrance door, and waved good-bye to me as his driver took me to the station.

  In Celle we were once visited by two British naval officers. Both wore navy duffle-coats on top of their uniforms and apparently looked very sharp, judging by the reaction of the ladies in the house. They introduced themselves as Lieutenant Blake and Lieutenant Commander Beaverbrook. We had no snacks or drinks to offer. Blake produced a package of tea and my wife prepared several cups for us. After these preliminaries they stated their business.

  First they wanted to know whether I had any contacts to the Russians. I could answer this question in the negative. Then they said they were interested in establishing contact with me and other former U-boat commanders to learn some details about the submarine service they were particularly interested in. In the course of our conversation I realized that they already knew much about our tactical procedures and our weaponry. For this reason and out of the conviction that I should do anything to strengthen the West, I did not hesitate to engage in detailed talks with them. They also were interested in keeping in touch with me. In those days first steps were taken to improve relations between the western Allies and the West Germans. As always it was easiest to start such a process with the military.

  The two naval officers took their leave under the curious glances of the other inhabitants of the house. Afterwards we were bombarded with questions but remained reserved. At any rate, this visit by the British naval officers had the unexpected consequence of raising our standing with the owner of the house. When my wife invited him for cake and coffee on some occasion not long afterwards, he at last and generously agreed to have our rooms linked up to the central heating system of the house, which in the meantime had been repaired.

  After a few months Blake returned. This time he was alone and seemed more confident than before. He again brought some tea, and we enjoyed a long conversation. He invited us to come to Hamburg and participate in a meeting between British naval officers and German U-boat officers. Before he left, he said: "If they give you any trouble at the university, don't hesitate to call me." I had to think of the despicable Education Officer and kept Blake's offer in mind. After six weeks Blake showed up as scheduled and took us in his jeep to Hamburg. For the first time in a long while I was allowed to do the driving myself, and I enjoyed the trip tremendously. In the British officer casino in Hamburg a large banquet had been prepared. The British were represented by officers and scientists, while our delegation consisted primarily of former U-boat commanders, among them Ali Cremer. This happened in late 1946. Here the first talks were held about the possible rearmament of West Germany, long before the politicians got into the act.

  After this meeting we saw Blake a few more times. Then we lost touch. Years later I happened to read a newspaper article about George Blake, master spy, who had worked for the Russians against the British. He had been sentenced to the maximum term allowed under the law and incarcerated in a London jail, from which he later managed to escape under dramatic circumstances.

  These bizarre experiences interrupted my studies only briefly. Otherwise, the School of Architecture was notorious for its spectacular parties. We celebrated them in our workrooms, all of them appropriately decorated according to the party's theme. Certainly, prospective architects had to be good at this sort of thing! The workrooms were literally transformed into places conducive to a most festive atmosphere.

  Architects had the reputation of enjoying a somewhat closer relationship with Eros than the more reserved engineers and scientists, and this affinity became prominently visible in the themes and decorations we selected for our parties. The latter acted as real magnets for all kinds of students at a time when things looked so depressed politically and economically. I still recall our very first such party. We held it in the fall of 1946 in an old stable for horses because our workrooms had not yet been made available for such a purpose. The party's theme: "Yearning for Greece." My wife had draped me in a white bedsheet. As master poet, a laurel wreath draped around my temples and with golden sandals on my feet, I strolled through the crowd. Various groups of students rested and partied in the stalls that had formerly held the horses. We had put sawdust on the concrete floor so that we could dance more safely. Everyone brought his own drinks; we provided the music. In the midst of all the misery around us it was the most memorable party we ever celebrated in those days. After a long and exciting night we fell into our beds, happy but tired. When we woke up, our pillow cases had turned black from all the sawdust.

  Once a few fellow students and I took time off from our studies for a vacation near Berchtesgaden. On that occasion we also went to the Obersalzberg, and I told the others what I had experienced there as the guest of the Bormanns. One of those present later misstated this entirely harmless story and used it against me when my position as a scientific assistant at the university was at stake.

  Late in 1949 I passed my Diplotnexamen with high honors. After several unsuccessful attempts to set myself up professionally, I applied to become a scientific assistant to Professor Graubner. The position hinged on a complicated system of hearings and voting that involved not only the other professors and their assistants but also the council of university employees, which at the time had communist leanings and was made up predominantly of lower-ranking academic personnel.

  One day I was asked to see the acting president of the university. While waiting outside his office I met the scientific assistant of another professor who said hello to me in a somewhat distant manner. I should explain that there existed strong rivalries among some professors at the School of Architecture. These rivalries could become very bitter and determined, leading at times to trumped-up charges and rumors designed to bring down an adversary.

  Professor Graubner had once prepared some plans for city construction projects for a local Nazi district leader. He had never joined the Party, but this temporary cooperation was enough to get him into trouble. Graubner, a native of the Baltic provinces, was used to standing up for his rights. He literally barricaded himself in his offices and left them only to give lectures and seminars, and to eat. He had to be able to rely totally on the people who worked for him. Apparently he had confidence in me and proposed me as his assistant. That is when the intrigues against me began. Their chief instigator happened to be the assistant of the rival professor and president of the council of university employees who had greeted me so coldly outsid
e the university president's office.

  We were both ushered in to see the president. The latter gave my accuser the opportunity to state his case against me. There were four major charges: (1) I had been a friend of Reich Leader Martin Bormann; (2) I had made anti-Semitic remarks; (3) 1 had said that all sailors are drinkers and had thus insulted the seafaring profession; and (4) 1 was a friend of Pascual Jordan, whose publications reportedly had made him a close supporter of Hitler. The man added that my military background in connection with these troubling political entanglements would induce him as a member of the council of university employees to vote against my candidacy.

  The university president listened to all this very calmly, then let my accuser go and asked me to stay. He said the whole matter was very unsettling for him, especially the way in which I had been attacked. It did not take me long to find out how and where the charges had originated. Obviously there had been a Judas in our group in Berchtesgaden. The last charge had been supplied by my accuser's wife, who as a lower assistant had been helping with my blueprints. We once had a conversation in which I told her about my meeting with Jordan and how impressed I had been by his insights. She considered him a charlatan. She also suggested that the university president harbored an aversion against Jordan. Both had been rivals from the time of their school days. Now she apparently assumed that labelling me anti-Semitic would have a profound effect on the university president because his wife was Jewish and he had lost his job during the Nazi era. Everything had been put together in a most clever and perfidious manner, but it failed to achieve the expected success.