He turned it on its side to show that it was full of currency.
Another briefcase came flying out, and then two battered leather suitcases.
And, finally, a head and shoulders.
“Please, General Burgdorf,” General White said, his .45 leveled at the German’s face, “give me an excuse to put a couple of rounds in your forehead.”
Another voice was heard from behind Burgdorf. “Gottverdamt, Willi, was ist lost?”
Burgdorf silently crawled out of the opening. With hands over his head, he sat on the floor cross-legged.
Cohen walked to the opening, and called down in German, “If you’ve been thinking about suicide, Franz baby, now would be a good time.”
Former SS-Brigadeführer Franz von Dietelburg reluctantly joined former General der Infanterie Wilhelm Burgdorf on the floor. They both were wearing ragged civilian clothing.
“Sergeant,” General White ordered, “now would be a good time to capture this moment for all of history.”
There followed a rapid series of still-camera flashbulbs popping.
“They’re all yours, Colonel,” White then said to Cohen. “When you’re done, load them in separate M8s. And send someone down the tunnel to see if we missed anything, or anyone.”
Minutes later, both prisoners found themselves lying naked on the floor.
Cohen had ordered two very large medics to immediately subject them to a search of their body orifices for hidden potassium cyanide capsules. Others searched their clothing for same.
After Himmler had escaped the Tribunal by biting on such a capsule, great care had been taken to make sure no other high-level Nazi escaped his fair trial and subsequent hanging by taking his own life.
The pained look on the faces of Burgdorf and von Dietelburg suggested that the medics who had conducted the search had erred on the side of thoroughness rather than personal comfort.
When they had their clothing back on, one of the sergeants produced a coil of quarter-inch rope and tied them up.
“What now, General White?” Cohen said.
“First, get on the radio and tell Captain Super Spook that he got his men. Then we’re all going to Nuremberg to see how Mr. Justice Jackson wants to handle this.”
[SIX]
Office of the Chief U.S. Prosecutor
Palace of Justice
Nuremberg, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
1400 29 April 1946
The convoy of twenty-one M8 armored cars and one Horch touring sedan aroused considerable interest as it entered the Tribunal Compound and then when it stopped at Mr. Justice Jackson’s building, blocking all traffic in the area.
Jackson came out of the building, and White said, “Take a look in cars four and five, sir.”
Jackson did, and then said, “I feel like Nero welcoming one of my legions home from suppressing the Huns. If I had any, I would drape you in garlands.”
“What do I do with the bastards, sir?” White asked.
“Put them in their cells. Personally put them in their cells, and then come to the office and we’ll spread the good news.”
* * *
—