Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Americans, Germans, and War Crimes
Americans, Germans, and War Crimes
James J. Weingartner
policies and Allied encouragement and material support of armed resistance to them,
Germans troops were frequent targets and reacted with indiscriminate savagery. A par-
ticularly horrific example is the slaughter on June 10, 1944, of over 600 civilians in the
French village of Oradour-sur-Glane by troops of the Second SS Panzer Division, which
had recently been transferred from Russia and was on its way to the Normandy front.
For some combatants, the perverse joy young men may derive from killing an overpow-
ered adversary was motivation enough. The late Stephen E. Ambrose recalled that he
had interviewed over one thousand American combat veterans, of whom approximately
one-third reported witnessing the killing of German prisoners by American troops. The
notorious “Malmédy massacre” of December 17, 1944, in which approximately 80 sur-
rendered G.I.s were gunned down by troops of a Waffen SS battle group commanded by
publicized postwar trial conducted by the U.S. Army. All were found guilty, and more
than half sentenced to death. Patton’s counterpart, Sixth SS Panzer Army command-
er Josef Dietrich, was sentenced to life in prison. The Malmédy trial lasted almost two
months under the glare of floodlights and accompanied by the whirring of news cameras
and closed with the prosecution’s urging that the defendants, characterized as “hardened
and dangerous criminals,” be severely punished for bereaving American mothers, fathers,
wives, children, and sweethearts. In stark contrast, the War Department’s Bureau of Pub-
lic Relations urged that no publicity be given the Biscari murders, partly on the grounds
that to do so “would arouse a segment of our own citizens that are so distant from com-
bat that they do not understand the savagery that is war.” German battlefield crimes were
part and parcel of undeniable Nazi depravity while American atrocities, it seemed, were
regrettable but normal products of combat. Due in part to suspicions that some confes-
sions had been coerced, no German convicted in the Malmédy trial went to the gallows,
and the last prisoner was paroled in 1956. Nevertheless, the disparity in the U.S. Army’s
treatment of the two cases is striking.3
3
Alfred M. de Zayas, Die Wehrmacht-Untersuchungsstelle: Deutsche Ermittlungen über allierteVölkerrechtsver-
letzungen im Zweiten Weltkrieg (The Wehrmacht Investigation Office: German inquiries into Allied violations of
international law during the Second World War) (Munich, 1979), 213–15. “Record of Trial of West, Horace T.,
Americans, Germans, and War Crimes in “the Good War” 1167
The Biscari and Malmédy incidents were not alone in exemplifying ambivalent and
self-serving American perspectives on the law and morality of armed conflict during
World War II. Two atrocities committed in the final year of the war, although smaller
in scale and somewhat different from each other in nature, throw that ambivalence into
even higher relief.
Early on the afternoon of August 4, 1944, B-17 no. 909 of the 486th Bombardment
Group (Heavy), U.S. Eighth Air Force, which had been damaged in a collision with
another plane while on a mission to bomb oil refineries in Hamburg, crash-landed on
with Nichols and to shoot them. As the two G.I.s approached, the women attempted
to flee. They were cut down by M-3 submachine gun fire in the backyard of the house.
Schneeweiss inspected the scene and, finding the women groaning and thrashing about,
killed them both with his .45-caliber pistol. Nichols left for a kp (kitchen police) assign-
ment, while Schneeweiss and Peppler moved on. Finding two male civilians crossing
a field adjacent to the road, Schneeweiss opened fire with an M-1 rifle. Both men fell
wounded. Peppler appears to have fired in the direction of the victims, but it was Schnee-
weiss who finished them off with bursts from Peppler’s M-3. One or possibly two more
German civilians were apparently murdered, but the circumstances of their killings, for
reasons that are not clear, were not investigated.5
Both sets of murders were patently war crimes. In combat, persons protected by the
respect the lives of persons in occupied territory. Both crimes also violated the municipal
law governing the conduct of the armed forces of each nation, and both crimes resulted
in trials of the perpetrators, although in very different contexts.7
German authorities took no action against those responsible for the ill-treatment and
death of the seven American airmen. A report of the incident, which the troops who es-
corted the airmen into Borkum immediately made to the commander of the antiaircraft
battalion, falsely stated that the Americans had been beaten to death by an enraged mob,
which had overwhelmed their guards. This fabrication may have arisen because the Nazi
regime had given sanction to “spontaneous” assaults by outraged German civilians, but
not military personnel, on downed Anglo-American airmen. Gestapo officials on the
mainland were apparently notified, and two agents arrived on Borkum several days after
7
“Laws of War: Laws and Customs of War on Land (Hague IV),” Oct. 18, 1907, Article 4, The Avalon Project
at Yale Law School, http://www.yale.edu/lawweb/avalon/lawofwar/hague04.htm; “Convention between the United
States of America and Other Powers, Relating to Prisoners of War,” July 27, 1929, Article 2, ibid., http://www.yale
.edu/lawweb/avalon/lawofwar/geneva02.htm.
8
U.S. v. Goebell (frames 81, 155–56, 279, reel 2).
9
Ibid. (frames 545, 570, reel 1); K. W. Hammerstein, Landsberg: Henker des Rechts? (Landsberg: Executioner
of justice?) (Wuppertal, 1952), 129.
10
U.S. v. Goebell (frames 284, 464–66, reel 2, frames 633–38, reel 4).
1170 The Journal of American History March 2008
Langer personalized in its most extreme form the likely motivation for the Borkumers’
assault on the prisoners. Those who participated conceived of it as an act of reprisal for
the deaths, by August 1944, of hundreds of thousands of German civilians in American
and British air attacks. Borkum itself had been largely spared the ravages of raids that had
pulverized many German cities, but residents of the island had friends and relatives on the
mainland and close contact with the populations of nearby Emden and Wilhelmshaven,
which had been heavily bombed, and Allied bomber streams from English bases passing
overhead almost daily kept the islanders in a state of high tension and fear. Mayor (and
Nazi Ortsgruppenleiter [local party leader]) Akkermann testified that he had simply want-
ed the American prisoners “who had come over there every day at 8,000 meters altitude”
to know how helpless the Germans felt, “as worms on the ground.”11
forced landings were lynched on the spot immediately after capture by the outraged pub-
lic. No police or criminal proceedings were lodged against citizens involved.” Local party
bosses, or Ortsgruppenleiter (such as Akkermann), were to be notified orally of the con-
tents of the memo. Orders to the Wehrmacht reflected Goebbels’s rant.13
Goebbels was guilty of falsification and hypocrisy of staggering proportions when he
contrasted the “unlimited barbarity” of the Allied air campaign with the alleged German
wish “that the war should be conducted in a chivalrous manner.” And he was wrong when
he claimed that “there is no rule of international law which the enemy can call on in this
matter. The Anglo-American pilots place themselves through such a criminal code of
warfare outside the pale of every internationally recognized rule of warfare.” International
law specifically constraining aerial warfare was virtually nonexistent or at best ambiguous,
their captors required the prisoners to keep their hands raised and struck them with rifle
butts if they lowered their hands. Howard Graham, no. 909’s bombardier, had particu-
lar difficulty complying. “The little flyer” in the discourse of the Borkum case, Graham
struggled to keep his loose trousers in place around his waist. When he attempted to pull
them up, he was forced with shoves and blows to stumble on. Near the town hall, Gra-
ham collapsed and was shot by Langer, the first of his victims. The column marched on
with Langer in pursuit.15
The defendant whose case proved most problematic was the Oberleutnant zur See (na-
val lieutenant junior grade) Erich Wentzel, former adjutant in the 216th Naval Antiair-
craft Battalion under the command of the Korvettenkapitän (lieutenant commander) Wal-
ter Krolikowski, also a defendant. In prewar civilian life, Wentzel had been a principal in
15
U.S. v. Goebell (frames 47, 237, 274–76, 379–83, 597–98, reel 2).
16
Ibid. (frames 136–39, 144–46, 598).
17
Ibid. (frames 604–5).
Americans, Germans, and War Crimes in “the Good War” 1173
sentences ranging from two to twenty-five years. Six defendants were pronounced guilty
both of assault and murder, and five of them, including Akkermann and Wentzel, were
sentenced to death by hanging. The sixth received a life sentence. Klaas Meyer-Gerhards,
the chief of Borkum’s air raid police, was acquitted.18
In notable contrast to the failure of German authorities to take action against those
involved in the murder of American prisoners of war, the U.S. Army, as after the Biscari
murders, moved quickly against the perpetrators of the Voerde killings. The incident was
reported to the intelligence officer of the Eighth Armored Division’s Combat Command
B, who initiated an inquiry that resulted in Schneeweiss’s prompt arrest. On the after-
noon of March 27, 1945, Lt. Col. Harold G. McAdams, the Eighth Armored’s inspector
general, was notified by telephone that Schneeweiss was being sent to XIX Corps head-
nemann and Frieda Payenberg; the specifications against Peppler included the killings of
the women and the two Heinrich Payenbergs. As in the trial of Schneeweiss, the deaths of
the civilians at the hands of the defendants were not at issue but rather the legal liability
and moral consciousness of the accused.23
The three defendants were very young—in their late teens—and, like Schneeweiss, had
been without combat experience at the time of the murders. Psychiatric examinations had
found them to have been of sound mind and able, at the time of the offenses, “to adhere
to the right and refrain from the wrong.” All claimed to have had reservations about carry-
ing out the orders. But, in court, the young soldiers testified that they had felt compelled
to obey the orders of a superior officer, as that is what they had been trained to do. The
U.S. Army officers judging the case apparently agreed. The three were acquitted of the
23
“Arraignment,” July 26, 1945, U.S. v. Joachims, Peppler, and Nichols.
24
“Reports of Proceedings of Board of Medical Officers,” May 26, 1945, U.S. v. Joachims, Peppler, and Nichols;
“Proceedings of a General Court Martial,” 36–37, 42–43, 46–47, ibid.
1176 The Journal of American History March 2008
fact, be a principle applied less brutally by the United States in its own war crimes trials,
in which military personnel suspected of having committed war crimes were held to be
ineligible for treatment as prisoners of war.25
Ironically, the U.S. Army officer who would lead the prosecution of the Malmédy mas-
sacre defendants had found himself in essential agreement with Goebbels when he first
confronted the full horror of the devastation wrought in Germany by the Allied air forces.
On August 29, 1945, Maj. Burton F. Ellis wrote to his wife back home in California:
On Sunday I went through Darmstadt, a place about the size of Fresno. It was lev-
eled. Block after block with nothing but burned out skeletons of apartment houses.
It is a dead city. If your family, your home, your possessions were buried there—
prisoners and guards into harm’s way and, although an officer, had done nothing to pro-
tect the Americans once they had come under attack. Wentzel was condemned less for
what he had done than for what he had failed to do. An element of symbolic retribution
may have been present in that those executed represented the three categories into which
the fifteen defendants had been divided—civilians, enlisted men, and officers.27
Robert Schneeweiss’s trial and sentence were reviewed by the Eighth Armored Divi-
sion’s judge advocate, Lt. Col. Sam Russ, who recommended approval of the sentence “in
view of the atrocious nature of the accused’s offenses,” a recommendation that was ac-
cepted by Maj. Gen. John M. Devine, the division’s commander. As required for cases of
this nature under Article of War 48, the records were then forwarded to the commander
of the field army to which the division belonged for confirmation. In the waning months
of paper directed at U.S. Army reviewing authorities and Gen. Lucius Clay, chief of mili-
tary government in the U.S. occupation zone, whose final confirmation was required for
the execution of death sentences. Included was a lurid claim that Maj. Abraham Levine,
the chief of the Borkum investigation team, had attempted to seduce and perhaps rape
Wera Wentzel, equally disturbing if a fallacious reprise of the Nazi stereotype of the lust-
ful, demonic Jewish male or if true; reprehensible, although understandable, if simply
a fabrication by a wife desperate to save her husband. This effort, which merged with a
politically volatile campaign of criticism in Germany and the United States of the whole
U.S. Army war crimes trial program, yielded stays of execution but not the commutation
that Wentzel and his supporters sought. A grimly impersonal telegram to Wera Wentzel
at the beginning of December 1948 from Clay’s chief of staff, Maj. Gen. Clarence Hueb-
ner, tersely stated, “It is regretted that the executive clemency which you requested in your
telegram of 30 Nov. 1948 cannot be granted.”29
A telegram from Rolf Galler to General Clay had crossed that from General Huebner
to Frau Wentzel. An article in the November 20 issue of the U.S. armed forces newspaper,
the Stars and Stripes, had come to Galler’s attention. It concerned, he informed Clay, a
former lieutenant in the U.S. Army who “had shot down four German civilians in cold
blood” in March 1945. The article revealed that the lieutenant had been paroled after
29
U.S. v. Goebell (frames 134–35, 178–509, reel 5).
Americans, Germans, and War Crimes in “the Good War” 1179
his twenty-five-year prison sentence had been reduced to eight years. Galler appealed for
“equal justice” in the form of clemency for Wentzel who, he noted, had not personally
killed or maltreated anyone. The appeal was rebuffed on the grounds that Wentzel’s case
had to be judged on its own merits and that “the evidence was found amply sufficient to
support the sentence.” On the morning of December 3, 1948, Erich Wentzel was hanged
at Landsberg Prison.30
The paroled former U.S. Army lieutenant was, of course, Robert Schneeweiss. Schnee
weiss’s wife and mother had begun to mobilize forces on his behalf in the immediate af-
termath of his conviction. Prominent citizens of his hometown requested that Congress
order a reinvestigation of the case and Schneeweiss’s retrial, which, they believed, would
“likely warrant his complete pardon,” while the local council of the Veterans of Foreign
in rough accordance with domestic norms.”32 That accordance may have been rough in
the Borkum case, but the defendants had the benefit of legal counsel, both American and
German, who fought energetically for their clients and a review process that was more
than pro forma. The three death sentences were executed more than two years after they
had been pronounced. One defendant was acquitted and most of the sentences were sub-
stantially reduced—and not solely out of political opportunism on the part of the United
States. For all of its flaws, this had not been a show trial or a drumhead court.
Today, it is difficult to imagine a U.S. court putting to death enemy prisoners or any-
one else under circumstances similar to those of the Borkum case. That is due in part to
changed attitudes toward the death penalty in general, but it is probably also due to the
absence, even in the aftermath of September 11, 2001, of an enemy to match the image
Dachau, and Buchenwald, or the “euthanasia” facility at Hadamar, whose staff members
were also tried, and many of them hanged, by the U.S. Army.
On August 4, 2003, a small memorial was dedicated on Borkum to the seven American
airmen murdered there fifty-nine years earlier. It is an incongruous intrusion in a resort
community normally preoccupied with serving a thriving tourist trade. Installation of
the stone monument, faced with a bronze plaque bearing the names of the victims, was
instigated by two local amateur historians and financed by the Rotary Club of Borkum.
A brief text in English and German memorializes the U.S. airmen “who were killed un-
tory and lauded the murdered airmen for having made “the highest sacrifice for peace and
freedom,” while noting darkly the willingness of Borkumers to “allow a bitter inheritance
to live on” in the form of the monument. Col. Kerry Taylor, representing the U.S. Eighth
Air Force, recalled “the constellations of fighters and bombers” that had carried 350,000
airmen deep into Europe, of whom 26,000 had paid “the ultimate price.” Borkum pro-
vided an ideal venue for reaffirming the proposition that the cost, both in American lives
and in the products of U.S. industrial predominance, had been exacted in a self-evidently
morally necessary war.36
There was an aspect of the war central to the memorial’s historical context that was
addressed by neither German nor American speakers, although Reinhold Robbe, Social
Democratic chairman of the Defense Committee of the Bundestag, came close. With a
The Borkum memorial and its dedication, as well as the fate of the psychic residues
of the Voerde murders, reflect the fragmentary public memories of history’s most de-
structive war that both Germans and Americans hold. To have acknowledged German
civilian deaths in the course of dedicating a memorial to seven murdered American air-
men would have seemed as incongruous an act as would the building by Americans of a
memorial to murdered German civilians in Voerde. The history of the Thirty-sixth Tank
Battalion to which Lieutenant Schneeweiss had belonged recalls Voerde simply as a stop
en route to an assembly area near Bruckhausen, a way station on the battalion’s trium-
phant drive to victory in America’s “good war” less than two months later. Although
undoubtedly for very different reasons, Voerde has also repressed public memory of its
murdered citizens. Remembered privately by some residents of the town, the murders of
“technological and ideological fanaticism” is relevant. See Michael S. Sherry, The Rise of American Air Power: The
Creation of Armageddon (New Haven, 1987), 248–55; and William L. O’Neill, A Democracy at War: America’s Fight
at Home and Abroad in World War II (Cambridge, Mass., 1993), 301, 319. On the U.S. transition from “precision”
to “terror” bombing of German cities, see Ronald Schaffer, Wings of Judgment: American Bombing in World War II
(New York, 1985), 80–106.
39
Frederick W. Slater, Invincible: A History of the Men and Armored Might of the Thirty-sixth Tank Battalion, 4,
http://www.8th-armored.org/books/36tk/36h-pg04.htm; Wabnik to Weingartner, e-mail, July 24, 2006 (in Wein-
gartner’s possession).