Chasing Gold: The Incredible Story of How the Nazis Stole Europe's Bullion

by George M. Taber

  “In unoccupied France.”

  “Who’s replacing him?”

  “The controller general.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “De Bletterie.”

  “Do you have any gold, currencies, foreign valuables? How much?

  “We no longer have anything here such as gold, currency or valuables. There remain about 200,000 to 300,000 francs in bills.”

  “Where did the valuables go?”

  “Far from here in unoccupied France.”

  “Do you have any safety deposit boxes?”

  “Yes, we have safety deposit boxes. About eight hundred.”

  “And in your branches?”

  “We also have them there. We could telephone and find out how many there are in the Seine Department.”

  “Useless for now. Do you have the keys to the boxes?”

  “We have the keys to the underground chambers, but we don’t have the keys for each deposit box. Those are in the hands of customers, and we have neither the right nor the possibility to open them.”

  “As of now, by higher authority, going down to the safety deposit boxes is formally forbidden.”

  “I protest against that order, and I demand a written order from an authorized,qualified, and superior official. I cannot take under consideration an oral order coming from someone of whose qualifications I know nothing.”

  “My uniform is not sufficient for you? I act by order of superiors, and that should be enough for you.”

  “That’s not enough for me.”19

  The German entourage then left, but returned a few minutes later accompanied by a Nazi officer who described himself as the head of a Devisenschutzkommando unit. At 8:15 P.M., the entire group went down to the basement, where the vault was located. The huge 11,000-square-meter storage area had been built in 1927 and was held up by 658 gray marble columns. The main door, which rotated on a rail, weighed seven tons. Two different keys were needed to enter.

  Without a word being said, the Germans looked around. After an hour of searching, they finally had to admit that there was not a bar of gold left in the Paris vault. De Bletterie did not volunteer that at precisely that moment French bank officials and their staff in several locations around the country were doing everything they could to get the last French national treasure out of the country.20

  Late in the evening of June 16, Prime Minister Paul Reynaud resigned, and Marshal Philippe Pétain formed a new cabinet that included a majority of ministers who wanted to end the war. Just after midnight, Paul Baudouin, the new French foreign minister, called in the Spanish ambassador and asked if his country would act as an intermediary to the Germans “with a view to the cessation of hostilities and the settlement of conditions for peace.” At 9:00 A.M. the next morning, General Charles de Gaulle left Bordeaux on a British plane to exile. He already had vague plans to organize a Free French army to continue the war against Hitler. Later that same day, Pétain announced over the radio, “I approached the adversary last night to ask him if he is ready to explore with me, as between soldier and soldier, when the fight is over and in an honorable circumstance, the means of ending hostilities.”21 In a radio appeal made on June 22 to the people of France, de Gaulle called for his countrymen to continue the fight and pointed to the many resources the country still possessed: “There remains a vast empire, an intact naval fleet, and lots of gold.”22

  Admiral François Darlan, the commander of the French navy, sent a message to his entire fleet, signing with his new secret moniker Xavier 337: FIGHT FIERCELY TO THE END AS LONG AS A REGULAR AND INDEPENDENT FRENCH GOVERNMENT HAS NOT GIVEN A CONTRARY ORDER. DISOBEY ORDERS FROM ALL OTHER GOVERNMENTS. NO MATTER WHAT ORDERS ARE RECEIVED, NEVER ABANDON TO THE ENEMY A COMBAT SHIP INTACT.

  The captain of the French liner Pasteur was still in New York City on June 17, when he learned from American newspapers that his country was pleading for an armistice. He immediately contacted the French naval attaché to ask for instructions. French officials were concerned that the U.S. might seize the ship in New York City in order to keep it out of Nazi hands and ordered him to return immediately to Halifax. While en route, the French Admiralty sent a message telling him that if he had not yet left to remain in New York City or head for Dakar, the capital of Senegal, a French colony in Africa. That port city was located on the Cap-Vert Peninsula, which stuck far out into the Atlantic Ocean 1,500 miles south of Casablanca and nearly 4,000 miles southeast of New York City. The communication, though, did not get through, and the Pasteur headed for Halifax. It arrived on June 19 and was ordered to leave immediately for Dakar.

  At 1:00 P.M. on June 18, the Émile Bertin again pulled into the Halifax harbor, this time tying up at Pier 4. It had left Brest on the evening of June 11 with 254 tons of gold, 3,986 sacks of coins and 796 cases of bars. The previous day while at sea, the crew had heard news of Pétain’s peace petition. When the ship landed, Edouard de Katow, the French National Bank representative on board, decided to leave the bullion where it was until he had received new instructions. The Canadian train that was ready to take it to Ottawa would just have to wait.23

  As soon as the ship was safely tied up, an officer from the French naval mission in the harbor came aboard and gave Commander Battet a message that had arrived a few hours earlier. It read: AS SOON AS ARRIVE IN HALIFAX ÉMILE BERTIN SHOULD MAKE ROUTE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE TO FORT DE FRANCE WITH CARGO ON BOARD STOP. Fort-de-France, the capital of Martinique, had one of the largest harbors in the Caribbean. The ship was almost out of fuel oil, so the first thing Battet did was have the tanks filled, which was done late that night.24

  The next day just before noon, the French commander met with Vice Admiral Stuart Bonham Carter, the commanding British officer at Halifax; their meeting quickly turned hostile. Carter gruffly told Battet that the French officer’s assignment was finished and that he was taking over the French ship. The British admiral explained that he had received orders from London not to let any French vessels leave the harbor.

  The French officer responded furiously: “Such an attitude is contrary to all traditions of maritime honor and to all international rules.”

  Carter replied just as tartly: “I am obliged, also myself, to obey the instructions of my government . . . if necessary by force.”

  The British admiral warned, “We have our batteries.” But the Frenchman barked back, “I also have cannons.”25

  Diplomatic cables soon flew between France, Canada, Britain, and the U.S. While the British did not want the ship to end up in Nazi hands, the Canadians opposed using force to stop the French. Canadian Prime Minister W. L. Mackenzie King got into the fight, saying sternly, “We control our own country and will not be governed by an Admiralty point of view, but by the position of Canada as a whole.” Battet received another message from France, repeating the earlier cable to leave port with the gold. It also requested a confirmation that the instructions had been received. Following intense talks but no progress, Battet at 9:00 A.M. on June 21 sent a message to the French Admiralty saying, FOLLOW YOUR ORDERS TO LEAVE BY FORCE STOP CHANCE OF SUCCESS ONE IN THREE STOP.26

  At noon that same day, Admiral Bonham Carter went aboard the Émile Bertin to have lunch with Battet. The French officer had ordered his ship’s kitchen to prepare a special meal that would show off his country’s culinary achievements. As an extraordinary lunch passed in front of the two officers, the mood improved. There was less confrontation, and the two veteran naval officers talked candidly. Finally and unexpectedly, Bonham Carter told Battet that his ship could leave the port. He added, “Get out fast.”27

  With neither a pilot boat nor a tug to help it depart, the Émile Bertin at 6:00 P.M. pulled away from the dock and turned south toward Martinique. Sailors aboard the French ship quickly noticed that the British heavy cruiser HMS Devonshire was following. Battet responded by pushing his ship’s speed up to thirty-four knots and left the slower vessel in his wake. The British ship was short of fuel, and the next morning
it turned around and headed back to Halifax.

  The Pasteur, which had received orders to follow the Émile Bertin, did not leave the harbor. The British seized the luxury cruiser and used it as troop ship for the rest of the war under the British flag.

  On June 23, the British war cabinet discussed the French gold that was on its way to Martinique. According to the report of the meeting, “The Prime Minister emphasized the importance of getting possession of these two ships [Béarn and Émile Bertin] and the gold that was aboard.” It also said, “We could announce that we should keep the gold in trust for the French Empire, but that they must not fight for it.” The cabinet ordered the HMS Dunedin to proceed at full speed to Martinique, where its captain was to make contact with the most senior French official to “get him on our side.” The cruiser was also instructed to keep the French ships within sight. If the vessels stayed in Martinique well and good, but if they moved, the Dunedin should follow them so that they could be intercepted. The war cabinet feared that they might slip across the Atlantic and land at Dakar.28

  The Émile Bertin docked safely in Martinique on June 25. Waiting for its arrival outside the harbor was the Dunedin, which was soon joined by the HMS Trinidad. The two ships then set up a blockade. The French vessel would not be going anywhere without the British.

  Two hundred fifty Senegalese troops unloaded the 255 tons of gold and moved it two-and-a-half miles to the military installation Fort Desaix. It took four days to complete the transfer. The cargo was placed in three vaults, where 300 soldiers guarded it. Boxes and bags holding the metal had deteriorated during the trip south because of heavy rain and high humidity, so the French commander ordered new wooden containers made.

  The situation in Martinique remained tense for several months. The U.S. considered the Caribbean to be its backyard and part of its zone of influence. Washington quickly made its interests known. Admiral John Greenslade, the U.S. Chief of Naval Operations, twice visited Fort-de-France, and on the second trip told French Admiral George Robert, whom Pétain had named the High Commissioner of the French Antilles, that neither French ships nor the gold could leave the island without American permission. U.S. vessels also joined the British in guarding the entrance to the Martinique harbor. The French later decided that if either the Germans or the Allies attempted to take over the gold at Fort Desaix, they would sink it in 1,000 meters of Caribbean waters.

  The French Admiralty sought to get as many ships as possible to Martinique. Just after 8:00 P.M. on June 24, it sent out a message to all its vessels at sea and to naval installations saying that hostilities between France and Germany and Italy would end at thirty-five minutes after midnight French summer time. Less than a hour later, the navy sent a special message to the Jeanne d’Arc and the Béarn, which were then in the middle of the Atlantic: DO NOT TURN OVER TO ANYONE INDUSTRIAL CARGO WITHOUT FORMAL ORDER STOP. It was too late; their gold was already in Canadian hands.

  At 6:07 A.M. the next morning, the French Admiralty sent out another cable: ORDER TO BEARN AND THE JEANNE D’ARC PROCEED TO FORT-DE-FRANCE STOP ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT STOP. The two vessels did not reply, so the following day, another message went out: THE FOLLOWING IS A REPEAT AND A CONFIRMATION STOP ORDER TO BEARN AND JEANNE D’ARC TO PROCEED TO FORT-DE-FRANCE ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT STOP. This time the message got through. The two ships quickly turned around and checked their fuel levels to make sure they had enough to make it to Martinique. The captains calculated that if they traveled at only twelve knots they could reach their destination with a little fuel oil left.29

  France soon had a small flotilla docked in the Martinique harbor, and in short order there were also 2,500 French sailors on the island. In addition to the three former gold ships there were nearly thirty smaller French vessels. The Béarn was there with about one hundred airplanes that it had picked up in Halifax but never delivered. A short distance away on the French island of Guadeloupe was the cruiser Jeanne d’Arc. The war was over for the French sailors and their ships, and the American Navy was now carefully watching the situation in Martinique to make sure that the gold did not move.30

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE VATICAN’S SECRET GOLD

  As Nazi armies in the dark days of May 1940 marched across Western Europe conquering nations at will and grabbing as much gold as they could to finance their future conquests, even Vatican City, the city-state enclave within Rome that is the international headquarters of the Roman Catholic church, became desperate to safeguard its gold.

  American presidents over the decades often had an uneasy relationship with the Vatican. The United States has a strong history of separation between church and state, and that made the men in the White House uncomfortable dealing with an institution that combines them. Anti-Catholicism in the U.S. was strong at times, such as during the Know-Nothing Movement in the mid-nineteenth century, which attempted to stop the flow of Irish and German immigrants. The papacy and the U.S. government, in fact, had not had official contact from the fall of the Papal States to the Kingdom of Italy in 1870 until 1933, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt asked James Farley, his former campaign manager and then postmaster general, to see if he could normalize relations. He visited Rome in 1933, and met with Pope Pius XI.

  With Mussolini and Hitler on a brutal mission to dominate Europe, Roosevelt realized that the militarily weak democracies were not equipped to block them. On the evening of December 22, 1939, the president telephoned Myron Taylor, a life-long Episcopalian, and asked him to become his “personal representative” to the Vatican. He would have the rank of ambassador extraordinary. The title was chosen carefully so that the president could avoid any political controversy that might have arisen if he gave Taylor the title ambassador. The White House announced the appointment the next day. At the time, thirty-eight nations had representatives accredited to the pope. In a later letter confirming the Vatican offer, Roosevelt wrote Taylor, “I may from time to time request you to serve as the channel of communications for any views I may wish to exchange with the Pope.”1

  Taylor at the time was one of the most esteemed businessmen in America. After graduating from the Cornell University Law School in 1894, he first practiced law and then went on to a spectacular career as a Wall Street lawyer. He made a fortune by introducing transparent window envelopes. He also bought up poorly run textile companies and created a management process known as the Taylor Formula. In the 1920s, he turned around the then financially troubled U.S. Steel, which at the time was the largest corporation in the world. He won a reputation for corporate enlightenment in 1937, when his company agreed to collective bargaining with the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). That made U.S. Steel the first industrial firm to unionize. Taylor served as its chairman and CEO until 1938.2

  Taylor began a new diplomatic career that same year, when he represented the U.S. at a conference at Évian-les-Bains. France wanted to find new homes for the thousands of Jews that Hitler had forced out of Germany by his anti-Semitic policies, but didn’t want to take them all itself. Representatives from thirty-two countries and thirty-nine private organizations attended the meeting. Before it started, Hitler announced that he would let Jews leave Germany for other countries. The U.S. and Britain quickly made it clear that they would not accept large numbers of Jewish refugees, and the conference was widely considered a failure.

  When Roosevelt asked Taylor to go to the Vatican, the pope was Pius XII, who had taken up his job only on March 2, 1938. For many years he had been widely touted as papabilus, the Latin term Vatican insiders gave to a cardinal deemed to be a potential pontiff. He had served as papal nuncio to Germany from 1917 to 1929 and later negotiated with Hitler the Reichskonkordat agreement that sought to protect the church in Germany at a time when the Nazis were waging war on all religions. It was signed in July 1933, only six months after Hitler came to power. Roosevelt met the future Pope Pius XII in the fall of 1936, when he was still known as Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli. On a visit to the U.S., FDR enterta
ined him at his presidential retreat in Hyde Park, New York, and they discussed the European situation.3

  When Taylor left the U.S. for his new assignment on February 16, 1940 aboard the Italian ship SS Rex, the president, who was vacationing aboard the USS Tuscaloosa, sent him a cable saying, “Good luck happy voyage and write me soon.” Taylor carried with him Roosevelt’s hand-written letter to the pontiff dated February 14, 1940. It stressed their “common ideals of religion and of humanity” and the “reestablishment of a more permanent peace.”4

  Once Taylor was in Rome, the pope quickly received him and accepted his credentials. The two had a private forty-five minute session, discussing European politics with a concentration on the future objectives of both Hitler and Mussolini. The pontiff was pessimistic about Hitler’s agenda, while he described Mussolini as “undecided and wavering.” Pius XII added that the Italian public was “opposed to war.” The pope ended the meeting by telling Taylor that he could have “daily access day or night whenever desired.” That same evening a picture of Taylor presenting his credentials to the pope was on the front page of the Vatican daily newspaper L’Osservatore Romano. That was quickly followed by a full-page story also on the front page under the headline, “A Program of Liberty, Cooperation and Peace Marks the Constant Relations Between the Holy See and the United States.”5 Italian fascists made a big thing about the non-ambassadorial status of Taylor at the Vatican, calling it an insult to all Italians. So Roosevelt secretly made him a counselor, which had the benefit of giving him both more status and diplomatic immunity.

  Taylor met with the pope again less than a week later and also quickly held talks with several other top Vatican officials. In addition, the one-time businessman established a good working relationship with other ambassadors to the Holy See, especially François Charles-Roux, the French representative, and Sir D’Arcy Osborne, the British one. The three soon became close friends. Taylor enjoyed unprecedented access to the Vatican and received a detailed report on the private meeting in March between Pius XII and German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop. Taylor also earned a reputation in Rome for being a bit stiff. British author Owen Chadwick, in a history of British relations with the Vatican during the war, called him “a rhadamanthine kind of man; not pompous, but he seemed to survey humanity as from a pedestal.”6