Following their repatriation after the end of the war, British/American POW’s from Stalag Luft III underwent a debriefing with MI9 (the British Directorate of Military Intelligence Section 9). A report was compiled for each POW. Some of the contents were classified as Top Secret, and the POWs were prohibited by law from any public discussion of those matters.
The movie, 13 Minutes, dramatically chronicles the 8 November attempt to assassinate Adolf Hitler. A glance down the list of main characters throws up a most interesting and familiar name. Arthur Nebe. For those with any knowledge of The Great Escape story, the name needs no introduction. SS-Gruppenführer Arthur Nebe was directly responsible for selecting the fifty escaped POWs who would be shot. History primarily remembers the man for this fact, yet there were other sinister events in his life of no less significance, some of which resonating right through to the present-day.
Born in Jablonskistrasse, Berlin on 13 November 1894 to an elementary school teacher, Arthur Nebe graduated from the Leibniz-Gymnasium in the Kreuzberg district of the city. With the advent of war, he served in the 17th Pioneer Battalion. In the trenches, he was twice caught up in poison gas attacks, and for his overall conduct there awarded the Iron Cross 1st Class.
Following Germany’s defeat, Nebe found employment with Berlin’s detective bureau, the Kriminalpolizei, or Kripo as it was more simply known. By 1924, he had risen to the rank of Police Commissioner and that same year married Lisel Schaeffer. The couple had one daughter two years later. In 1928, he was put in charge of the Kripo offices in Potsdam and Frankfurt an der Oder. His work there was typical law enforcement, investigating crimes from narcotics trafficking to homicide. On 1 July 1931, Nebe became an official member of the Nazi Party.
Nebe was instrumental in the formation of the National Socialist Civil Service Society of the Berlin Police and through this became associated with many prominent Nazis. One of this new circle recommended him for the position of Chief Executive of the State Police. In July 1936, Kripo was merged with the Gestapo and became the criminal police force of the entire Third Reich. His counterpart and direct superior in the Gestapo was SS-Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich.
He officially joined the Schutzstaffel (SS) on 2 December 1936, and his somewhat meteoric rise to prominence continued. First, Nebe was promoted to SS-Gruppenführer, then shortly after awarded the overall command of Kripo. He was now mixing in the highest circles of the Third Reich.
As Germany’s actions inevitably brought about the start of World War II in 1939, Nebe was summoned in November of that year to assist with the investigation and interrogation of Georg Elser. On the face of it, a simple carpenter and clockmaker, Esler was charged with attempting to assassinate Adolf Hitler during a commemorative rally at the Bürgerbräukeller in Munich. While many of his colleagues believed Elser was part of some greater international conspiracy, Nebe held to the view that the bomber was just a disenchanted lone wolf. Controversy on that subject still exists to this day.
While Nebe’s career achievements were mounting, his private life was somewhat less illustrious. He had a reputation as something of a philanderer and a string of mistresses had done little to help his marriage. Like many within the Reich, he also shared an abiding obsession with astrology and other mystical matters.
In late 1939, Nebe assigned a select group of Kripo officers for duty with the Aktion T4 euthanasia program. Their role was essentially that of supervisors for the various centers established to kill the sick, disabled and elderly.
Always ambitious, Nebe put himself forward in August 1941, to command Einsatzgruppe B, one of the main SS Death Squads. Shortly after, Nebe addressed the Mogilev Conference, dealing with the security threats posed to the Reich by partisans and other unsympathetic elements. Following this meeting, there was a significant rise in atrocities committed against the Jews and Roma population, with many such acts perpetrated by his own division.
Earlier that year, Nebe had organized a demonstration of mass-killing by shooting in the presence of and for the benefit of Himmler. However, the event in Minsk only succeeded in making Himmler ill and creating within him concerns about the psychological impact such a method would have on the SS soldiers involved. Nebe was charged with finding a means of mass-killing that was more clinical and convenient. Carbon monoxide gas was discussed as a possible option as this was already being used successfully by the Reich as part of the Aktion T4 euthanasia program.
When his division Einsatzgruppe B was tasked with exterminating the patients of mental hospitals in the cities of Minsk and Mogilev, the pressure was increased on Nebe to come up with an effective means.
Nebe sought the assistance of Dr. Albert Wildmann at the Kripo headquarters, who agreed to accompany him to Minsk, though not before discussing the matter with Dr. Walter Heess, the director of the Criminal Police Technological Institute. As a result of their conversation, Dr. Wildmann took with him on the mission a supply of explosives and metal gas pipes.
After an initial experiment to kill twenty-five mental patients with explosives yielded less than satisfactory results, the two men turned to the second alternative, carbon monoxide gas. At the mental hospital in Mogilev, five patients were placed in a room which was sealed to be airtight. One of the metal pipes brought by Dr. Wildmann was inserted into the room and the fumes from a car fed within. The men were surprised when almost 10 minutes later the effects were viewed to be minimal. They decided to add the gasses from a second vehicle into the equation. Only moments later, all in the room were dead.
Inspired by the results of this experiment, Nebe came up with the idea of converting a van into a mobile euthanasia chamber, utilizing carbon-monoxide from the vehicle’s exhaust as the killing agent. With technical assistance from Dr. Heess, Nebe developed a blueprint for just such a contraption, which the two men in due course presented to Heydrich. The method itself was not entirely original. A regular vehicle had been used by the Germans as early as 1940 to kill mentally ill children in Poland. What Nebe was proposing, however, was to perfect the concept into a custom-designed mobile killing machine. Heydrich was impressed, and immediately ordered that the vehicles should go into production.
With the annexing of Austria in 1938, the world’s international police organization, INTERPOL, had fallen under the control of Nazi Germany. Alongside his other duties, Nebe took over the role as President of this influential body in 1942, following an assassination-attempt which incapacitated the post’s previous occupant, his commanding officer, Heydrich.
The night of 28 March 1944 was to largely define Arthur Nebe’s role in history. SS-Gruppenführer Heinrich Müller, chief of the Gestapo, instructed him to select 50 of the recaptured POWs from the recent escape from Stalag Luft III to be executed. The command came directly from Adolf Hitler and was known as the Sagan Order. With help from his assistant Dr. Hans Mertens, Nebe divided the records of the fifty captured airmen into two piles. Those who were to be shot were marked with a red cross and placed in one pile, the fortunate ones who were to be spared placed in the other. This took considerable time as Nebe deliberated over who should be in which pile.
“I attributed Nebe’s excited and uncontrolled behaviour to the fact that he was aware of the monstrosity of the deed which he was about to carry out. There may have been six or eight perhaps even ten cards which I gave him. He threw several in front of me saying: ‘Have a look whether they have wives and children.’ After putting the cards which he had kept into two piles, he took my cards. I gave him briefly the personal particulars of these particular officers. I cannot remember the names of any. I remember however, that Nebe said in one case, ‘He’s for it.’ He put this card in one pile in front of him and looking at the picture of another officer said, ‘He’s so young, no.’ This card was put into another pile. On viewing another card he said, ‘Children, no’ and put it on the first stack. There were then several cards in both piles.”
Account – Dr. Hans Mertens
At the end of the process, the details were passed to Müller who in turn relayed the information by confidential teleprinter to the various local Gestapo headquarters responsible for the captured POWs. While it lacked the usual official protocol, it was their death warrants.
With the outcome of the war looking increasingly unfavorable, and his list of crimes, including the murder of the Allied airmen, clearly weighing on his mind, Nebe’s survival instincts took over. Hoping to somehow transform himself from villain to hero, Nebe became involved in Operation Valkyrie, the 20 July bomb plot to remove Adolf Hitler. For his part, Nebe was supposed to lead a team of like-minded police officers to kill no less than Himmler once the Führer had perished. The story of what occurred in the Wolfsschanze (Wolf’s Lair) that day is well known. Hitler survived, the coup failed, and the men involved were in due course brought to justice.
In the aftermath, Nebe panicked and dropped out of sight, though this only succeeded in drawing suspicion toward him. On 24 July, an arrest warrant was issued for him in relation to the plot. He retreated further into hiding, using an assortment of disguises and a network of friends in an effort to evade capture. However, the Gestapo did eventually catch up with Nebe, following a tip-off from a scorned mistress, and he was arrested at Töpchiner Chaussee near Lake Motzen in February 1945. He was promptly tried and sentenced to death by the Volksgerichtshof (People’s Court). Arthur Nebe was hanged at Plötzensee Prison in Berlin on 2 March of that same year, though not conventionally by a rope. In accordance with Hitler’s orders that the plotters should be “hanged like cattle,” he met his death by means of a piano-wire and meat hook. However, his ghost was never truly laid to rest, with reports circulating long after the war that he was, in fact, still alive and holed up in a variety of countries.
Inside scoop from the Editor – Watch out for the forthcoming book, The Second Gospel of Peter, a work based on an explosive true story. It will answer all your questions on the subject and more.
The Great Escape (1963) appears on the all-time favorite movies list of many people. Whether it is Steve McQueen attempting to leap the barbed-wire barricades on a motorcycle or James Garner and Donald Pleasance crash-landing their plane in sight of the mountains of Switzerland and freedom, the movie evokes a spirit of rugged defiance. Over the years however, scenes such as these added for dramatic effect fueled criticism of the movie. But regardless of such creative embellishments, it was important that the film should be made for the men who had been subjected to live as a POW in Stalag Luft III. It is especially significant to those among them who had served in the RAF’s Bomber Command, as even the smallest token of recognition, wrapped in Hollywood tinsel or not, was better than none. In England, no sooner was the war over than revisionist historians were already at work, condemning the men of Bomber Command to an almost pariah-like status.
It was also important for future generations to know that men were prepared to risk their lives crawling over 100 yards through a makeshift tunnel deep underground, with the wrath of the Third Reich more than likely set to meet them. Above and beyond all, The Great Escape is a movie about courage. Perhaps no-one has said it better than the legendary John Wayne – “Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.” The men who descended that perilous tunnel on 24 March 1944 were an exceptional example of that expression. So, if Steve McQueen had to pull a stunt on a motorcycle to ensure that the movie was made and widely seen, then it was a small price worth paying.
Steve McQueen…. Hilts ‘The Cooler King’
James Garner…. Hendley ‘The Scrounger’
Richard Attenborough…. Bartlett ‘Big X’
James Donald…. Ramsey ‘The SBO’
Charles Bronson…. Danny ‘The Tunnel King’
Donald Pleasence…. Blythe ‘The Forger’
James Coburn…. Sedgwick ‘The Manufacturer’
Hannes Messemer…. Von Luger ‘The Kommandant’
David McCallum…. Ashley-Pitt ‘Dispersal’
Gordon Jackson…. MacDonald ‘Intelligence’
John Leyton…. Willie
Angus Lennie…. Ives ‘The Mole’
Nigel Stock…. Cavendish ‘The Surveyor’
Director…. John Sturges
Screenplay…. James Clavell and W. R. Burnett
From a Book by…. Paul Brickhill
Producer…. John Sturges
Cinematography…. Daniel L. Fapp
Music…. Elmer Bernstein
Art Director…. Fernando Carrere
Editing…. Ferris Webste
Makeup…. Emile LaVigne
One of the most poignant exchanges in the movie account of The Great Escape (1963) is that between The Scrounger Hendley (James Garner) and The Forger Blythe (Donald Pleasence).
Blythe: Roger’s idea was to get back at the enemy the hardest way he could, mess up the works. From what we’ve heard here, I think he did exactly that.
Hendley: Do you think it was worth the price?
Blythe: Depends on your point of view, Hendley.
Garner’s memorable portrayal as The Scrounger Hendley was based on a real-life character, Stalag Luft III veteran Marcel Zillessen.
Marcel Eric Zillessen was born in Northampton in 1917 to a German father and Irish mother. His parents soon moved north to Bradford to take over management of the family textile business.
After school, Zillessen’s first job was that of sales director in the family business. Encouraged by his Father, Erich Max Theodore Zillessen, the young man eventually went to Berlin and enrolled at the city’s university, hoping to broaden his education. This was the golden age of the Weimar Republic, and Zillessen soon became familiar with the language and customs of that society, as well as gaining along the way firsthand experience of the growing Nazi threat.
With the onset of World War II, Zillessen was contacted by British Intelligence who wanted to recruit him into their services as a spy. Uncomfortable with such line of work, he passed on the offer, stating instead that he would prefer to fight the enemy ‘face-to-face’.
And true to his word, Zillessen did just that, joining the RAF’s No. 6 Squadron and becoming a Hurricane pilot. After flying a string of raids against Rommel’s Afrika Korps, Zillessen’s aircraft was shot down on 6th April 1943 during the Battle of Wadi Akarit in Tunisia. He was captured by the Germans and subsequently moved to Italy where, after the usual bout interrogation, the airman was transported onward to Stalag Luft III.
At this point, he decided to change his name to Axel Zillessen, worried that his German heritage may make him vulnerable to the authorities. Nevertheless, among the ordinary Guards, his knowledge of the German language and general education served him well, soon becoming a scribe-for-hire, penning their romantic mail. His talents didn’t go unnoticed by the escape committee either, who put him to work forging ID and travel documents for the forthcoming escape. His favor with the German guards allowed him to become a source for ink, paper, and other items useful for the escape plans. This is how he came to gain the reputation of The Scrounger.
On the night of 24 April, Zillessen was one of the last to pass through tunnel Harry and was quickly apprehended by the guards and marched back into the compound. These are Zillessen’s own words on the events as recorded later.
“Everything went wrong that night, there was an air raid and all the lights went out in the tunnel, and then a Major got stuck and it took ages to get him out.
I cannot describe what it was like when it finally broke. The Germans were absolutely livid, there were dogs rushing around the camp and guards were pouring in from all over the place.
There was still 150 PoWs left in the hut at the time we heard shots being fired. People came pouring down the tunnel telling everybody, ‘it’s all over‘.
Once I realised that the escape had broken I just leapt out of the hut. I ran as fast as I could and jumped through the window into my own room.”
Luck was on his side that night, for if he had escaped into the wider surroundings and been arrested by the local police or Gestapo, his name might well have appeared among that of The Fifty who were later executed in cold blood.
By any standards, the brutally disproportionate response to the escape from the German high command was ‘not cricket’, breaking as it did the most basic tenets of the Geneva Convention. But the headline also has another, somewhat lighter, meaning. In an entry in F/Lt Keen’s Wartime Log, Zillessen and he are playing cricket together in the North Compound. It is September 1944, 6 months after the night that would become known in history as ‘The Great Escape.’
After the war, Zillessen returned home to the family business and got married, raising several children and enjoying a comfortable lifestyle. In later years, he and his family moved to the picturesque Robin Hood’s Bay on the Yorkshire coast, where they ran that most quintessential of British establishments, a seaside guest house. For those unfamiliar, they are renowned for their fry-up breakfasts, and it is always time for tea.
Returning once more to the movie, and on the eve of the escape, Hendley reassures an anxious Colin, troubled by his failing eyesight.
Hendley: Ah, Hell, we’ll make it in great shape. Colin, do you have any tea?
Blythe: Yes, of course.
Hendley: Let’s have some.
Blythe: Splendid.
Marcel Zillessen died on 8 January 1999 at the age of 81.
In England, there exists a strange Christmas tradition. One or other of the nation’s TV networks will invariably air a screening of the classic 1963 movie, The Great Escape. Families sit around stuffed with turkey dinners, humming Elmer Bernstein’s catchy score and booing each appearance on screen of the German authorities. Every family has its military buff who sits there less impressed, and in time delivers the familiar phrase, “Of course, the Americans had nothing to do with The Great Escape.”
Well, actually, yes they did. A number of Americans played a significant role in the preparations for the event. And indeed, many were on the list to escape through whichever of the three tunnels was first completed. It tends to be forgotten, but US airmen originally shared the historic North Compound with the British, the architects of the scheme. The Great Escape, in reality, began in the spring of 1943 when RAF S/L Roger Bushell announced his bold plans and work began. It was only a few months before the actual completion of one of the tunnels and subsequent escape that the American contingent was moved to a new compound and forced to abandon their participation. One man, in particular, stands out for his contribution. That man is then Lt. Col. Albert Clark.
Albert Patton Clark was born at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii, on 27 August 1913. After a formal education at Main Avenue High School in San Antonio, TX, Clark enrolled in the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1932. During his time there, Clark decided that his future lay in the air. After subsequently graduating from flight school at Randolph Field, TX, as a rated pilot in 1937, he joined the Air Corp. That same year he married the daughter of a former West Point cadet, Carolyn Pierpont Wilbourn. Somewhere in these early years, he had picked up the nickname ‘Bub’ which stuck with him the rest of his life.
After an initial posting at Selfridge Field, Michigan, Clark went to England in June 1942 to take up the post of second in command of the 31st Fighter Group. They were one of the first American fighter units to enter the War in Europe. However, the twenty-eight year old’s combat career was cut short when only a month later his Spitfire Vb was shot down over Cape Griz Nez in France.
Falling into enemy hands, he was sent to the newly opened German POW camp Stalag Luft III in Silesia, a camp that been specially designed to be escape-proof. As the senior American Officer (SAO), POW 594 Clark was made responsible for the security and intelligence activities surrounding what would later come to be known as The Great Escape.
Clark had with him a secret camera with which he captured some of the only known images of life inside Stalag Luft III and events surrounding the escape.
Clark had a strong sense of honor and remembrance, and over the years amassed a wide assortment of material from his military career, much relating to Stalag Luft III. Over time this was drawn together to form The Albert P. Clark Collection, which was eventually donated to the USAF.
In January 1945, with advancing Russian forces about to seize the camp, Clark and the rest of the men in Stalag Luft III were evacuated by the Germans in what came to be known as The Long March. Following a grueling winter trek of 86 km and equally unpleasant rail journey in cattle-trucks, they arrived at their new home, Stalag VII-A (Moosburg) in Bavaria. Finally, on 29 April 1945, Clark and the other US airmen from Stalag Luft III were liberated by his namesake General George S. Patton’s 3rd Army.
Clark went on to have an illustrious military career, rising to the rank of Lieutenant General and holding such prominent positions as chief of staff of the U.S. Air Forces in Europe, commander of Air University and superintendent of the U.S. Air Force Academy. His marriage to Carolyn lasted 65 years until her death in 2002, with 3 children adding to the family. After retiring from the military, Clark found time to serve on the boards of the U.S. Olympic Committee, the Boy Scouts of America and Stalag Luft III Former POWs.
In 2005, he published an account of his experiences as a German prisoner of war, entitled 33 Months as a POW in Stalag Luft III. He also played a leading role in preserving the memory of all those held in Stalag Luft III through the previously mentioned military archive, The Albert P. Clark Collection.
Lieutenant General Albert ‘Bub’ Clark died on 8 March 2010 at his home in Colorado Springs. He was ninety-six years old, and one of the last surviving men who could proudly say, ‘I played a part in The Great Escape.’
While genuine artifacts from Stalag Luft III seldom appear in salesrooms, with so little having survived the forced evacuation, a great way for people to connect both with the story and the era is through antiquarian books. Books that were actually published at the time it all happened, or shortly after. Below are some of the earliest works about the camp, and by flipping through their pages, often foxed and edges worn, there is no denying that you feel just that one step closer.
Privately published, 1946 – Hardback. 48pp. POW Accounts, Sketches and Photographs.
Published privately in 1946, it was the first book on Stalag Luft III and The Great Escape. This makes it perhaps the rarest and most collectible of all. Indeed, only a couple of copies are known to have passed through the salesrooms in recent years. It is also noteworthy as being the first publication to feature the artwork of Ley Kenyon, the most prominent of all the Kriegie school of artists. Reproduction prints of his Stalag Luft III sketches went on to become part of the prestigious Royal Collection in 1977.
Scangriff was the third POW newspaper in Stalag Luft III, along with The Kriegie Times and The Circuit. Its unusual name was conjured up by mixing the word scandal with the title of a German newspaper, Der Angriff.
The paper was the brainchild of F/Lt Mark S. Winston whose Stirling bomber (BK714), was shot down over Rostock, Germany on April 20th, 1943. Among those involved in Scangriff were F/Lt Paul Brickhill and F/Lt Ley Kenyon. Immediately after the war, they set about creating a book to chronicle their time as POWs, and even more significantly, serve as a tribute to The Fifty. The last page of the book features a promotional piece for a then forthcoming book, Escape to Danger by Paul Brickhill.
Privately published, 1946 – Hardback. 33pp. Sketches and Watercolors.
A graduate of the Pratt Institute in New York, Carl Holstrom created some of the most iconic POW art in Stalag Luft III. Whether through pencil or watercolors, he captured the essence of both the men and the environment with the flair of a master. In his book Kriegie Life, he presents some of his finest works, taking the reader on a visual journey into life behind the wire.
Faber & Faber, 1946 – Hardback. 341pp. Photos and illustrations.
The first published work by Paul Brickhill, Escape to Danger is a compendium of POW life and escape stories from WWII. Events in Stalag Luft III occupy much of its contents, and it lays the groundwork for what in only a few short years would become The Great Escape, the abiding account of that historical event. The book was co-authored with fellow Australian Stalag Luft III veteran Conrad Norton.
Faber & Faber, 1951 – Hardback. 263pp. Photos and illustrations.
This was the book that defined The Great Escape legend and became the basis for the 1963 movie with Steve McQueen, James Garner, Charles Bronson et al. From its opening dedication to The Fifty and introduction by American Stalag Luft III POW George Harsh, through the highs and lows of digging the 3 tunnels, the escape itself and its bloody aftermath, the book had that classic formula that would inspire readers worldwide. The book also met with critical acclaim, not only for the epic nature of the story but the quality of its writing.
“For there is present all through it, as well as in its outcome, the authentic strain of tragedy.”
The Listener
