My dad, Gordon Levy, entered into active service with the US Army on June 16, 1945. He had just completed his first year of college at Stanford University and off he went. He was just 19 years old.
I've written about my dad's service several times but the one piece of information that was cloudy for me was his time in Germany where he found himself at the Nuremberg War Crimes Trials. Although I didn't know the details of how or why he found himself there, I wrote about it HERE.
A few weeks ago I wrote about being immersed in letters from 1945 and I can now report that I have completed the transcription project of all of the letters my dad wrote (or at least the ones that were saved) to his parents during his 18 months of military service. Oh boy, do I wish my dad were here so we could talk about this - what a history lesson I've had!
His basic training began on June 16, 1945 at Keesler Field in Mississippi and he then transferred to Scott Field in Illinois a few months later. He described his training like this:
Once in the Army, I learned that flight training, navigator school and gunnery training, were out because the war was ending, and I was going to be a cryptographer. The school lasted one day. That was fortunate because I did not really know what a cryptographer was. We were slated to be in the invasion of the Empire of Japan, but the atom bomb terminated that plan, for which I was eternally grateful.
As a result, the military took me to the Army of Occupation in Germany, barely six months after the end of hostilities, and my prior training as a journalist landed me a position on the staff of an Army newspaper - where I covered sports, war crimes trials, and put the paper to bed in a German printing shop -- Buchdrukerei -- and couldn't wait to get home -- just in time for the Big Game of 1946, which Stanford won, naturally. And as I look back, the experience in Germany, of seeing in person the Nazi leaders on trial, of watching the Bitch of Buchenwald in testimony -- this year was a highlight of my life.
He was then transferred via New York to Furstenfeldbruck, AKA Furstey (located in Bavaria, near Munich), in January, 1946 and faithfully wrote to his parents for the year he was stationed there. As luck (mine) would have it, he had the scrapbook gene so he also put together an album of photos - and he even labeled them!
A few of his letters really moved me - the thoughts of what my young Jewish father witnessed was almost too much and I will never forget his words. I don't remember him ever talking about this, although my sister has memories of the two of them discussing it.
Furstenfeldbruck, Germany
20 April, 1946
Dearest Mom and Pop: -
During the last two days I have really been seeing Germany, in all manners, means and conventions. But I’ve gotten a lot of good experiences out of it – some that I won’t ever forget. Thursday we travelled some 80 miles by truck to a town called Landshut (by truck, at that) where the ball club played the 16th Infantry Regiment. On the way we passed through Freising, where Maj. Boney is located, but it was impossible to stop, which I would have liked to do. We won the ball game, 8-4, and spent a beautiful evening journeying back by truck.
Yesterday was even better – the War Crimes Trials at Dachau. We went up there (only about 12 miles) yesterday morning and stayed till 4 in the afternoon, and I must say it was the most interesting day I’ve ever spent in Europe. The trials concerned the Camp Mauthausen Concentration Center (Austria) and some 61 men are on trial for their lives. The tribunal consists of eight full colonels and one major general…quite a bit of brass for the ill-deserving Krauts. I was extremely surprised at the defense the US is giving them – they have a major and several captains representing their case, and although they put little heart in the cause, I think they should be praised for making American justice work. Prosecuting attorney for the US is a crafty, witty Lt Col Denson, who is working the case in his own manner. Naturally the entire proceedings must be spoken in German and English, with an expert interpreter translating every German statement to English and vice versa. Nevertheless, the trial moves on at a fairly speedy rate.
On the stand yesterday was a certain Karl Struller, 1st Sgt. Of the Hq. Co., at Mauthausen. For seven years he said he was at the Camp and never saw a prisoner mistreated or beaten. But the prosecution sort of tied him up in loop-holes and made him look pretty silly trying to say he walked past an iron gate for seven years and never saw a chain with a person hanging there everyday. But he did admit that he “had heard about it.” It only takes one day at trials such as those to see that all Germans, regardless of how they look or how peaceful they act, are just as responsible as the next one. But the testimony you hear all day is that “they heard about such things, but that was all.” American justice is being given to men who don’t rightly deserve it – and they can all start counting their last days now.
During the noon hour we looked at the “points of interest” of the Dachau Camp, which are all located in an area of about an acre where the Germans committed their scientific murder of upwards of 300,000 people. You should see it, that’s all there is to it. The crematory looks like a simple little place of business, inside are seven brick ovens where people met their final fate. But that wasn’t their first visit. Once they went inside the brick wall, they never left it…but sometimes they were tortured in that little wooded area for weeks at a time. On one side of the building are three roomy gas chambers – the prisoners were told to go in and take a shower. They never breathed fresh air again. Offset from the building a little was a number of dog kennels where prisoners were sent as the victims of the hungry mongrels, who slowly chewed them to bits. In the basement, with a convenient slide for bodies from the first floor, they stacked the bodies – just like stacking fire wood. Still visible on some of the walls are fingernail marks where half-dead bodies tried to claw. Over on the other side of the yard is a little hill where prisoners were ordered to kneel before shot in the back of the head. One of the oddities is that the Germans even thought of wooden gratings over a small trench, so that manpower wouldn’t be wasted cleaning up the blood. Yes, they were fine supermen – and we still fall for their line.
Just told you these few things so that you would know that the Germans committed all those atrocities you heard about. I can verify them – although I didn’t see the bodies, I saw the equipment – that was enough to convince me. I received the camera package and the two rolls of film – thanx a lot. All for now,
Love, Gord
PS – Here are my accumulated savings. Invest it as you see fit, Pop. I’ll be able to go to college on my own before long.
I always laugh when he changes the name of Furstenfeldbruck to something else - in the letter below he changes it to Furstandthirdbase.
Furstenfeldbruck, Germany
1 May, 1946
Dearest Mom and Pop: -
Well, we’re back from our excursion around Germany – and much more seasoned than before. We did a lot of travelling in those three days – to Nurnberg, then down to Regensburg and back to Furstandthirdbase. The ball club lost their first game, 6-5, to the 26th Infantry, tied at 2-2 in a second game called because of rain, and beat the famous First Division yesterday, 4-3. So, we got a share of victories out of the deal.
Naturally the high point of the trip was visiting the Nurnberg War Crimes Trials, which all the players did, but it was something I never expected to see when I saw those first newsreels last November…I never had any idea that I would be in that exact courtroom seeing those exact scenes. We got in around 10 AM Monday and only stayed about two hours, but it was worth it. There aren’t too many spectators, and you have to get a pocketful of passes before they let you in. But we saw it all – Hermann Goergin sitting in his first row seat, Hess, Ribbentrop, Jodl, Rosenberg, Doenitz, Raeder, - and our own famous personages, Justice Jackson and Francis Biddle.
The entire proceedings are heard over earphones, in any of four different languages, for the benefit of Russians, French, German and English personnel both as spectators and as active participants. There is very little delay that way, and you hear the interpretation right with the speaking. The court room itself is not nearly so large as pictures suggest – in fact it is surprisingly small. And I would venture to say that some 200 people are inside the railing participating – a great number of recorders, defense counsels, prosecuting assistants etc. They give out a type of program with all the info to all spectators, which I shall send to you with some pictures I got through the press men – they should be invaluable.
On the stand the other day was Julius Streicher, famed, notorious Jew-baiter, who denied, quite naturally, that he had ever given orders to exterminate Jews, smash their windows or burn their synagogues. He blamed it all on Hitler, and that he only carried out the Fuhrer’s orders – silly, but he claimed as much. He treated all the Jews very fairly except when Hitler ordered him to do otherwise. It is all the same story – blame it on the guy who is dead or say you just “heard about such things.” It not only was exempletory [sic] at Dachau, where they are trying the small cogs, but also at Nurnberg, where they are listening to the big “wheels” themselves. It is the only defense they have, but I doubt if that will stop the ropes from tightening – they should all see the gallows.
The stadium where we played ball was formerly Hitler’s famed pageant place – seating way over 200,000 people. You’ve seen pictures of the giant marble stands with the high podium where Hitler used to reel off his lectures. Instead of the swastika, the place is decorated with the big red, white and blue A of the Third Army now. And appropriate enough in one corner is the beautiful ball park, a tribute to America’s ability to change something very bad into something very good. The marble pillars are a fitting background for the great American pastime – it’s sort of an oddity.
On our arrival back at the home base, we find that Gen. McNarney’s orders are being carried out to prevent a GI from having any spare time…it’s all the Regular Army now. 6 AM reveille, roll calls, drill, guard duty, bed checks, taps etc. But regardless of how I feel not being RA and being subject to their regulations, I must take what they call “chicken” with all the rest. But they shall not take advantage of me, especially when I work off hours as it is. One drastic measure which hampers our work, and I may still consider going to Stars and Stripes. The proposal was aimed at the bad soldiers, and it’s hitting everybody. That’s what hurts – we who do our job as best we can get the same punishment as those who do nothing. Mamma, I wanna cum home.
Das ist alles for now – more very soon.
All my love, Gord
PS – These are scenes of Munich
And a snippet from another letter:
Furstenfeldbruck, Germany
6 August 1946
Dearest Mom and Pop: -
Just got back a few hours ago from Nurnberg, where we spent a very enjoyable three days as official correspondents. Our plans to fly didn’t pan out (as usual) but we were fortunate enough to requisition a command car and drove up and around Nurnberg. Our place of stop-over was with the “big time” at the International Military Tribunal Press Camp, where we finagled our way in since we are official newspapermen. After rubbing shoulders with such correspondents as Hoddenfield of the AP (who the hell is he?) and men from all the Allied countries, I feel like a man whose been around. We spent Sunday at the ET swim championships, which the Air Force won its first major athletic title over here. About seven fellows from our base were on the AAF team, so we were justly proud of them. They literally outclassed everybody, and gave the enemy-Infantry boys something to wonder about.
Monday (yesterday) we spent the entire day at the trials, in which the organizations such as the SS and SA are now under examination. They had some big SS leaders on the stand, which got to be both boring and dry. But the presence of all the “boys” such as Goering Ribbentrop et all made this second visit just as interesting. Thru our press affiliations, we sat in on a press conference by Leslie Hore-Belisha, former British Minister of War, who was visiting the IMT for a day or so. It was the same room in which La Guardia had his press meeting two days previously – too bad we missed that. It was an interesting day, needless to say. And today we rode back.
I have loved reading and transcribing these letters and feel like I have a bit of history at my fingertips. I'm considering putting the letters and photos together into a book and my brain is pondering just how to do this and what a fitting title might be.
My dad really was a generous creature. Well, he was!
What historic treasures you have! Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Elizabeth. I sent you a FB message to ask about follow.it.
DeleteThose letters are chilling. Reading them, I can sense your father's rage. To be a witness to those denials after visiting the camp had to be infuriating.
ReplyDeleteYou really should publish the letters in some kind of book. It's so easy to self-publish these days. Even if all you do is transcribe and scan them with some narrative along the way, you will have not only honored his memory and preserved his story for your family, but for the whole world.
Thanks, Amy - I'll be picking your brain for sure!
DeleteAny time!
ReplyDeleteFantastic! The letters, and the photos, are such a personal view from a young man at the center of an historic event. His letters really bring events to life, did he go on to have a career writing? Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteHe dabbled in writing and was very good at it but he fed the family by being a stock broker :-) Thanks for reading!
DeleteFirstandthirdbase! I love your dad. How wonderful he shared his experiences in such detail. Indeed this must become a book.
ReplyDeleteIn one letter he called it Fursten-such-and-such. Haha!
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