Donovan's Devils

by Albert Lulushi

  * * *

  After Wolfe finished, Roche stood up for a rebuttal. “I have listened to the most eloquent argument of the defense counsel,” Roche said. “The prosecution cannot hope to match the defense in eloquence. I trust that what we lack in eloquence is made up by the soundness of our position, not only on the law but also on the facts.” Roche went on to counter Wolfe’s arguments that the responsibility for the crime fell on the Führerbefehl, Kesselring’s headquarters, or Dostler’s duty to obey superior orders. Then, Roche came in for his own strong closing. Picking up on the fact that Wolfe had said several times that at the time that the fifteen Americans had been executed, thousands of men were being killed each day at the fronts of Cassino and Anzio, he said:

  In view of that undisputed fact, the defense says and would have you believe that the execution of these fifteen soldiers was quite insignificant. It must be an awful thing to be in the position of any of these fifteen men when he know what was going to happen to him; it must have been a terrible thing. I doubt very much that any one of the fifteen deemed the matter insignificant. I doubt very much if the wives, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, and friends of any of these fifteen men deemed the matter insignificant. I doubt very much if the United States Army deemed it insignificant, and I know the people of the United States, of the United Nations, do not think it insignificant. It is not a pleasant thing to stand here or anywhere and cold-bloodily say to a fellow man that you must die for an offense. Nor is it a pleasant thing to stand here and say to a commission that your duty so dictates: you must condemn that man to death.

  I ask you to approach the task which you are about to undertake not in a spirit of blood-thirsty revenge but rather with a determination that the voice, and the feelings, and the aspirations of civilized peoples, which have been soundly crushed for the past six or seven years, will at least be heard and clearly heard.

  After the closing arguments, the commission met behind closed doors for the rest of the day. The next morning, October 12, 1945, at 0900 hours, the commission entered the room to hand down its verdict. Everyone stood up. Dostler came to the center of the room facing the commission at attention with the interpreter to his right. General Jaynes informed the spectators that no public expression of approbation or disapprobation of its action in the case would be permitted in the courtroom. Then he read the verdict:

  General Dostler,

  As president of this commission, it is my duty to inform you that the commission in closed session and upon secret written ballot, at least two-thirds of all the members of the commission concurring in each finding of guilty, find you of the specifications and of the charge:

  Guilty.

  And again in closed session and upon secret written ballot, at least two-thirds of all of the members of the commission concurring, sentences you:

  To be shot to death by Musketry.

  Dostler, who could not understand English, waited patiently until the translator found the words to translate the decision. Then, with a barely perceptible bow of the head he acknowledged the commission. The commission adjourned and the trial was over at 0905 hours.

  * * *

  On October 23, 1945, there was a change in leadership at the US Army Mediterranean Theater of Operations Command. General McNarney left the theater for the United States and Lieutenant General Mathew B. Ridgeway assumed the role of acting theater commander in his absence. It fell upon Ridgeway to review the trial record, consider any appeals for clemency, and act upon the sentence against Dostler. There were very few pleas for clemency on behalf of Dostler. On October 14, General von Vietinghoff, who had been the supreme commander of the German armies in Italy at the end of the war, wrote a letter to Lieutenant-General Frederick E. Morgan, the British supreme Allied commander of the Mediterranean theater of operations. “Dostler is well known as an excellent regular soldier who has paid the strictest attention to the carrying out, without questioning, of all orders,” von Vietinghoff wrote. “He has become a sacrifice of the Führerbefehl mentioned in the trial. I would therefore request you to make use of your right to pardon him.”

  Dostler’s daughter, Annemarie Dostler, wrote an emotional letter urging Ridgeway and those with power to decide life or death for her father to consider the larger meaning of mercy and justice. Quoting Shakespeare, she wrote that mercy comes by naturally, like “gentle rain from heaven.” It blesses both those who receive mercy and those who grant it. It is especially powerful when given by the powerful. Mercy fits the king better than his crown and makes him stronger than his earthly authority vested in his scepter, because it is “an attribute to God himself.” Although we may be entitled to justice, justice alone will not be our salvation. It is when “mercy seasons justice” that we are the strongest and most closely resemble God, she wrote.

  Against these appeals for clemency stood passionate letters that family members of the murdered soldiers sent to different levels of the US government. The father of Santoro Calcara wrote to the adjutant general in Washington, DC, and called his son “a loving Son, an excellent Boy … [who] was my only support in my old age, a real soothing consolation by his irreproachable behavior and the only helping Companion of my life. As a Father, and so tremendously thrown out of balance, I would for my part recommend and invoke the extreme penalty on the vile assassin and butcher.”

  Private First Class Joe DiScalfani, brother of Salvatore DiScalfani, wrote to the War Department asking that they communicate with him regarding the outcome of the trial rather than his mother, who was too fragile to handle the news. He also asked to be “among those to execute the guilty, and there can be no other punishment for them than execution. I have not killed a man before but I assure you it would be a pleasure to kill these Germans who took the lives of my brother and 14 other Americans.”

  Josephine Russo, sister of Lieutenant Vincent Russo, wrote to President Harry Truman to complain about Dostler’s defense counsel, Colonel Wolfe. She wrote:

  My temper became infuriated to read that an American Colonel of his standing should try and save the life of this monstruous Nazi criminal who so brutally took the lives of fifteen young American boys…. Did Gen’l Dostler show any leniency to my poor unfortunate brother? No! Neither should he be given any leniency…. Those boys fought hard for their country and joined a Commando outfit which very few boys join knowing that their lives are at stake at all times. They showed true patriotism to their country by risking their lives on such a dangerous mission and the loss of their lives should not be in vain by acquitting this monstruous Gen’l Dostler and also to have a greedy and inconsiderate Colonel such as Col. Wolfe serve in the American Army.

  A lengthy response from the office of the judge advocate general explained that Wolfe served as Dostler’s counsel not because of any personal desires but because he was ordered by his commanding officer to perform a military duty and he “should not be censured for ably performing an assignment that must have been distasteful to him.”

  * * *

  Dostler himself wrote a long petition to Ridgeway submitted on October 24, 1945, in which he outlined a number of factors for his consideration. Dostler began with a summary of his unblemished record in all theaters of operations where he had served. Then, he highlighted the fact that with the exception of von Zangen, no other material witnesses had appeared during the trial who could testify to what had transpired at his, von Zangen’s, or Kesselring’s headquarters. “It was not possible for me to successfully defend myself before this Commission,” Dostler wrote, “since the Commission heard only certain witnesses against me, but did not hear witnesses who could have aided me.” Dostler’s petition also discussed the fact that the Führerbefehl used in the trial had not been complete and the same one he had reviewed when deciding the fate of the Americans. Finally, Dostler raised the point that he should have been tried by a court-martial, in accordance with the Geneva Convention provisions, rather than by a military commission. Given these facts, Dostler asked Ridgeway to com
mute the sentence to a term of confinement or suspend the execution of the sentence until further evidence was gathered from witnesses who had not been available at the trial. “It was not my order who caused this unfortunate incident,” Dostler wrote in conclusion, “but it was the order of a higher headquarters. As an officer of the German Army, it was my duty to obey orders and I obeyed them. For this reason, I feel that I am neither legally nor morally responsible for any breach of international law.”

  Neither Dostler nor Wolfe was aware that both Kesselring and his chief of staff, General Siegfried Westphal, were interviewed in Nuremberg in relation to the Dostler case. Westphal, interviewed on October 4, 1945, was very evasive in his responses but recollected that the daily report of Army Group von Zangen included the capture near La Spezia of commando troops. The report had been forwarded as usual to the OKW, the Supreme Command of the Armed Forces. When asked whether he recalled an order by OKW as to what was to be done with these troops, Westphal said, “It is very difficult for me to testify to this under oath, but I believe that an order had come down from OKW that these troops should be treated according to the Führer’s decree…. I want to say this: That if the report had been given to the OKW, as I believe it was, I am sure that the order to shoot these people came from the OKW.” Westphal also remembered the Führerbefehl as consisting of two parts. The first part was very brief and signed by Hitler. The second part contained rules for carrying out the order and was signed by either Keitel or Jodl.

  Kesselring was interviewed on October 6, 1945. He denied recalling the execution of the fifteen Americans. “Due to the mass of reports that came to me about terrorist partisan activities, one incident or another might have escaped my attention due to the fact that I was frequently away from my headquarters,” he said. When the interrogator asked him whether he would like to say anything in defense of Dostler, Kesselring said:

  General Dostler was a very smart, energetic, and wise leader. He had tried to carry out the task that was given him one hundred percent. He had made himself valuable particularly in two fields: a) coastal defense, and (b) fight against the partisans behind the lines. I recall that he had carried out one particular action against a group of partisans in a masterly way, so that it was considered by me as a model action. It is possible that, due to the great number of partisan actions, the personal excitement played a certain role. I also know that the railroad to La Spezia was subjected to frequent interruptions, which embittered us, particularly because this railroad also served to bring food and other necessities to the civilian population in the area.

  According to his military principles, I believe that General Doslter would have taken execution measures only if he was properly backed up by orders from higher sources. If the case had not been entirely clear, he would certainly have asked for orders from higher up. If in this case the intermediate higher headquarters, or my own headquarters, had been approached (I cannot say whether they were or not), one of these higher headquarters would have to take the responsibility.

  * * *

  On November 6, 1945, Colonel Tom H. Barratt, acting theater judge advocate, reviewed the trial record, as required by law, and found nothing in the appeals for clemency to warrant further hearings in the case. On November 27, 1945, Ridgeway issued General Order Number 301, which approved and confirmed the sentence against Dostler. The sentence was to be carried into execution on or before December 1, 1945, at or in the vicinity of Aversa, Italy.

  On November 28, 1945, at 1400 hours, four US Army officers visited Dostler at his confinement cell at the Peninsular Base Station (PBS) Garrison Stockade 1 in Aversa, near Naples. They read Ridgeway’s order to Dostler and asked him whether he had anything to say or any request. Army records do not indicate what Dostler said, but show that “Subject prisoner’s last request was carried out.” Chaplain Franz Gruber, a German prisoner of war himself, was with Dostler. He had been with him since November 15 and would be by his side until the last moments of his life. Frido von Senger visited Dostler on November 30. He remembered spending some time with the condemned man while outside they could hear the firing squad rehearsing. Von Senger wrote:

  He was his usual self, cheerful and relaxed, explaining that he only wanted to thank me for my friendship and good offices and to bid me farewell, as he was due to be shot. Too moved to speak, I stood there a while looking him in the face, this comrade with smiling eyes who in adversity had become my friend.2

  In a last minute attempt to delay the execution, Colonel Wolfe, Dostler’s defense counsel, requested that Ridgeway consider granting a three-month grace period before the execution of the death sentence, which paragraph 139 of Army Field Manual 27–10, The Law of Land Warfare, accorded to condemned prisoners of war. Ridgeway met with Barratt on November 30, 1945, to review the request. Barratt expressed the view that Dostler was classified as a war criminal, a person who had performed an unlawful belligerent act, contrary to the laws and usages of war, and, therefore, was not entitled to the status of a prisoner of war and the privileges accorded to prisoners of war. Ridgeway let his execution order stand.

  Dostler also sent an appeal for clemency to the pope. On November 30, the Vatican’s secretary of state delivered a letter to Harold Tittmann, the Unites States representative to the Holy See, which said, among other, “His holiness in accordance with those sentiments of Christian charity and mercy with which he regards all men cannot but bring this appeal to the attention of the competent authorities.” Records show that Titman had at least two conversations with Ridgeway about the Vatican request, the last one on December 1 at 0710 hours, without being able to change the course of the events.

  In the morning of December 1, Second Lieutenant Walter L. Willie, Corporal Gordon W. Wilkinson, and Corporal James W. Murray prepared Dostler for execution. He was dressed in regulation uniform, with all decorations, insignia, and other distinguishing marks removed. Willie recalled Dostler telling him that his trial could have been more just by having his witnesses there, but he said, “I understand the American people believe in justice and I want you to thank each and every person concerned for the courtesies extended in my case.”3

  Shortly before 0900 hours, Lieutenant Willie, the prisoner guard, Dostler, Chaplain Gruber, and Captain H. B. Crummins, a US Army chaplain, left the cell block and headed to the place of execution. A special guard of twelve enlisted men from Company B, 803 Military Police Battalion, was lined up in two ranks facing one another at the entrance of the firing pit. Ten officers designated as official witnesses to the execution and several others, including photographers and motion picture camera operators from the Army Signals Corps, were lined up behind ropes. It was a sunny but chilly morning, and the condensation of breaths created the impression that men were blowing out smoke.

  Willie led the way, followed by Dostler, the two chaplains, and the two corporals. They walked between the ranks of the special guard, down a flight of steps, and into the firing pit. Then, they headed toward the far side of the pit where a post had been erected. Dostler walked to the post, halted, turned around, and leaned against it. Chaplain Crummins stood to his left and Chaplain Gruber stood to his right, reciting prayers. The two guards tied Dostler’s hands behind the post, and then secured him against the post with ropes that went around his chest, thighs, and ankles. The officer in charge of the execution, Lieutenant John H. Magnocavallo, read the charge, finding, sentence, and execution orders aloud. Then, he asked Dostler if he had a last statement. “No,” said Dostler, adding, “Es lebe Deutchland!” (Long live Germany) and in a quieter voice, “My soul in God’s keeping, my life for the Fatherland.”4 One of the guards removed Dostler’s hat and the other one placed a black hood over his head. The medical officer, Captain Arthur N. Lieberman, placed a four-inch-wide oval white target over his heart. Then, the prisoner guard, the chaplains, and medical officer walked to the opposite side of the firing pit.

  Magnocavallo ordered the firing squad to enter the pit. It was composed of one serg
eant and eleven enlisted men. One by one, they came down the steps and retrieved their weapons from a rack of rifles positioned next to the steps. Earlier in the morning, Magnocavallo had personally prepared and tested the weapons in the firing pit. He had supervised the loading of the weapons. Per regulation, at least one, but not more than four of them, were loaded with blank ammunition. Then, Magnocavallo had placed the weapons at random in the rack.

  The men in the firing squad stood in two rows three feet from one another at order arms. On Magnocavallo’s command, they turned to face the prisoner and positioned themselves at arm’s length. The men in the second row took one step to the right and stood between the men in the first row. Magnocavallo raised his right arm vertically overhead, palm forward, fingers extended and joined. The execution party came to the ready position. The first row took a knee to the ground while the second raw remained standing. The men unlocked the weapons. Magnocavallo lowered his arm to a horizontal position in front of his body. The firing squad aimed the rifles at Dostler. Magnocavallo dropped his arm directly to his side and commanded: “Fire!” The execution squad fired the volley simultaneously. It was 0909 hours, December 1, 1945.

  The bullets hit the white target over Dostler’s heart and cut the rope that secured him to the post. He leaned slowly forward and to the right. His body stopped at a forty-five-degree angle, and then, as Dostler gave his last breath, it bent to almost ninety degrees. Steam rose from the exit wounds in his back. The chaplains came forward, followed by the medical doctor who began inspecting the condemned man. Magnocavallo stood nearby prepared to administer the coup de grace with his side arm, if the medical officer so decided. At 0911 hours, the medical officer declared Anton Dostler dead. At this point, the men in the firing squad, who had turned their back to the condemned after firing their volley, placed their rifles in the rack and left the firing pit. Magnocavallo ordered the removal of Dostler’s body from the post. Three enlisted men wrapped him in a white mattress cover, laid him on a stretcher, and took him away in the back of a truck for burial.