Plunder and Corruption in US-Occupied Germany

"Major Crazy" and the sordid true tales inspiring my novel Liberated, plus book picks — and a sale

The locals called him “Major Crazy.” Early in the US occupation of Germany, Major Raymond Towle of Boston ruled the Bavarian town of Eichstätt as an eccentric tyrant.

Major Crazy carried a riding whip he used on any local who questioned him. Obsessed with the Catholic Church in Rome, Major Crazy had an elaborate papal court costume tailored for himself — all in black, complete with custom sword — and brought in a top Munich painter to portray him in all his splendor. He requisitioned more than 20 of the best houses in town for his growing entourage of sycophants, rakes, and pimps. Soon he was shipping home hundreds of crates filled with plunder from across Bavaria and more art pieces that he ordered forged.

Maj. Raymond Towle in his papal costume (Donau Kurier)

In my novel Liberated, Major Crazy is recast in the character of Major Robertson Membre, who rules the US occupation of the isolated Southern Bavarian town of Heimgau. The novel’s main character, ambitious US Captain Harry Kaspar, resolves to solve a brutal torture-murder but his commander the major proves to be his and the town’s worst nemesis. Yet as Harry soon finds out, Major Membre is only a puppet for a much greater evil.

And as real-life events show, Major Crazy aka Membre was far from the only one running a racket.

Starting Over in 1945: Stranger than Fiction

On the whole, the US occupation functioned well and had to be strict. Sometimes, though, the early occupation became a kind of Wild West where a foreign autocrat wielded total power over the native inhabitants like a robber baron over a busted boomtown.

In late spring of 1945, US combat units secured the war’s unexpectedly calm closure on the frontiers of Southern Bavaria. But someone had to take over on the local level, ensure peace and order, and get things running again. Nazis had to be purged, the refugees cared for. Enter the US Military Government (MG) detachments, who followed the path of US tactical forces into physically and socially devastated cities and towns, villages, and counties.

Munich, 1945 (LIFE Magazine)

Amid the untold ruin and chaos, broken infrastructure, and vaporized authority, US MG officers in the smaller detachments off the beaten path often found themselves cut off from the world. The situation demanded self-reliance and inventiveness, but it also invited confusion, scandal, and infamy. Some commanders made themselves the lords of their helpless communities. Fearful and sometimes grateful locals dubbed them the “County Kings,” since their king often beat out rival communities’ MG detachments competing for manpower and precious resources, shelter, and food.

Not everyone could be Major Crazy. A common Joe could thrive, too, and not all were criminals when considered in context. In 1945, a 22-year-old recently naturalized American sergeant and German Jew named Henry Kissinger was a Counterintelligence Corps (CIC) agent tasked with finding and arresting former Nazis. As a CIC man, Sergeant Kissinger had more power than even the local MG commander. Calling himself “Mr. Henry,” young Kissinger ruled over the town of Bensheim and surrounding county from a lavish villa and a posh Mercedes sedan. He reportedly enjoyed multiple affairs and extravagant dinner parties. The future US Secretary of State, it seemed, was already learning to enjoy the trappings of authority. But who could blame him, really?

At the same time, other Americans with all the power operated with shameless greed and impunity. One true episode loosely reflected in my story is that of the Hungarian Gold Train. Sent west by Hungarian Nazis in the last year of the war to prevent confiscation by the Red Army, the train carried far more than gold — it held the expensive belongings and art of persecuted Hungarian Jews. This load was not the well-known museum collections and pieces that the US Army’s vaunted Monuments Men units sought to secure, and as such proved all the more tragic.

According to Kenneth D. Alford in Allied Looting in WWII (2011), at one point the train had 52 cars, which “contained cases of gold, 60 chests of jewelry, and chests of the finest collections of Meissen, Dresden, and Chinese ivory figurines. There were over 5,000 handwoven Persian rugs, exceptional works of art, five large trunks full of stamps, over 300 complete sets of silverware, and 28 large boxes of mink and sealskin furs. Other personal effects of the murdered victims included American dollars, Swiss francs, gold coins, small bags of gold dust, watches, rings, Bibles, skis, musical instruments, cameras, typewriters ... In 1945 terms, the value of the train’s contents was estimated at $206 million, which would translate to several billion dollars today.”

Under constant threat of attack from ground and air, the train made it into Austria as the war ended, where the SS and the trains’ Hungarian guards fought for control. The train was meant to reach Switzerland, for anonymous bank accounts and profit-taking. It ended up in a train tunnel near Salzburg, Austria, where it fell into the hands of the US Army. And over the next couple years, certain unscrupulous American officers, empowered by victory and lured by easy wealth, started appropriating the contents from storage. Much of the haul found its way to the states through boats and planes and back doors. 

Seized Nazi plunder (Associated Press)

Elsewhere, deserted GIs got in on the plunder game and early, having found crime rackets the only way to stay free if not alive. It’s known that certain crafty and determined deserters were able to set themselves up quite nicely and securely, especially in Paris and Brussels. About 50,000 American soldiers total had deserted in the European theater, many returning to duty, but some never. Most had been broken by combat duty, given no respite from the front line and doomed in units with casualty rates well over 100 percent counting replacement cannon fodder. Hell creates its own type of hero. So it’s not hard to imagine an enterprising sociopath like a certain fraudster in Liberated (no spoilers!) rising to the occasion, death wish and all. 

Frustrated research demands fictional telling

The path to Liberated began years ago when I was a graduate student in history at Portland State University and fortunate to perform research in Munich on a Fulbright Fellowship. In archives there I discovered the real-life example of Miesbach, the unassuming capital of a rural county between Munich and the Alps.

US MG at the start (US Army)

US combat units, I discovered, had not given Miesbach’s US MG detachment access to the town until May 16, 1945 — more than a week after Germany surrendered. What MG detachment officers found when they did arrive must’ve given them quite a shock. The MG report for May 13-20 describes the local population as being highly distressed because US Military Police were “permitting SS officers and a limited number of enlisted men to remain armed with some freedom.” And, incredibly, the SS soldiers were somehow able to shoot three civilians while at liberty, including a US intelligence informant. At the same time, German army troops stationed nearby were allowed to operate with complete freedom. Their commander reportedly was assuring his men that “the war is not lost and another German Army will be formed.”

The early Miesbach MG team stabilized the situation, but as late as 1947 an investigator described a history of “careless enforcement” in Miesbach. US MG had appointed locals with Nazi pasts to top posts. One deemed politically acceptable turned out a “paranoiac and a psychopathic mythomaniac.” And the investigator found the situation typical in such isolated areas. Officers were flattered by officials with Nazi connections and reluctant to let them go, showing a lack of “judgment, intelligence and impartiality.” The investigator concluded: “It has been proved over and over again that the officer who is lulled into confidence by a surface obsequiousness is forgetting an essential fact: No people loves or trusts or essentially wishes to help the power that occupies it.”

It intrigued me that so much scandal was implied between the lines but might be lost to historical record. Such incidents seemed the stuff of mystery and crime and historical fiction — and sparked my early attempts at fiction writing and a manuscript that years later, after many revisions, became this novel (for more on that, see my previous post).

Enter Captain Harry Kaspar in Liberated. A naturalized American born in Germany, Harry believes in the capability of American can-do to change the world for the better. But as it turns out, the Wild West that was the early occupation became the greenhorn Harry’s worst nightmare. Against the robber baron, the new town sheriff hardly has a chance.

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Random book picks

Here are a couple novels I’ve read and enjoyed recently or in the distant past and in no particular order…

William March’s 1954 bestseller The Bad Seed was a nice surprise to discover: When well-meaning mother Christine Penmark gradually sees her worst fears about her perfect yet strange daughter confirmed, her fears only double and grow. What must a mother do when her own child might be a serial killer? What must that mother do once she dares to look deeper and discovers about herself? The consequences are chilling and steaming with bloody truths about the human condition. Author March’s craft is a wonder. Sometimes, what we do to avoid the worst will create the only thing worse — March understood that.

I recently enjoyed the intelligent and compelling ride that is The Man from Berlin (2013) by Luke McCallin, the first in a series featuring Gregor Reinhardt, a WWII German counterintelligence officer and former detective. From its unique and grim Yugoslavia setting to its exploration of Reinhardt’s moral struggles trying to solve crimes from within an evil regime, McCallin keeps you wanting more even when you know justice will always be just out of reach.

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One more thing: My ebooks on sale this month

If you’re looking to try one of my novels, now’s a good time as my publisher has lowered the price of two of my ebooks for a limited time.

In Rain Down, a man with no name is out to find a labor activist friend who disappeared on the streets of Portland in this noir crime novella set in 2009. Now only 2.99 until Oct 20 at multiple retailers.

In Under False Flags, two soldiers on opposing sides find the courage to desert when their honor is betrayed in this WWII thriller and sequel to my novel The Preserve. Only 2.99 until Oct 31 at Amazon.

Have at it! And if you enjoyed the read, please consider leaving a review or rating. 😊