London Cage

by Helen Fry

  But how long before tempers frayed? And what would be the consequences? Scotland maintained that no physical violence was used against a prisoner to make him confess to war crimes: ‘We were not so foolish as to imagine that petty violence, nor even violence of a stronger character, was likely to produce the results hoped for in dealing with some of the toughest creatures of the Hitler regime.’2

  Up to his death in 1965, Scotland consistently denied any sadistic practices in the cage; however, his memoirs were not always consistent, because he did state that things were done ‘that were mentally just as cruel’.3 For example, one unnamed obstinate prisoner was forced to strip naked and exercise. This deflated the prisoner’s ego and he began to talk freely. Other prisoners were forced to stand for hours at a time, and if one wanted to urinate ‘he had to do it there and then in his clothes. It was surprisingly effective.’4

  Was it ever legitimate during wartime hostilities to use violence or undue pressure to extract information from enemy prisoners of war, even if that information could change the course of the war and save lives? How often was decency sacrificed for expediency? These were relevant questions then, as they are now. How did the behaviour of the interrogators change once they were confronted with intransigent SS prisoners who refused to break their oath of loyalty to Hitler and who were known to have committed brutal massacres? It was a natural human reaction to loathe them. But the situation was more complicated than that.

  Suicide

  On Thursday, 7 March 1946, the Evening News carried the headline ‘War Criminal Kills Himself: Found hanged in Kensington “Cage”’. It went on to report: ‘Because of his complicity in war crimes, the name and nationality of this man will be kept secret.’

  It was one of four suicides in the London Cage. For seventy years, the identity of the prisoner has remained a mystery, his name never publicly released. Sifting through the declassified files has revealed two key references that enable his identity to be established for the first time. The first of these comes in a report from the London Cage dated 22 March 1946 and reads: ‘Following the unfortunate demise of SS Ostubaf [Obersturmbannführer – Lieutenant Colonel] Tanzmann at the London District Cage … (alias O’Leut. S. Koch) …’5 The second reference in the same file reads: ‘Since Tanzmann committed suicide, we have not tried to trace the wanted men …’

  These references appear to solve the mystery of the suicide. Except further research found that there is no death certificate in any British death register for Helmut Tanzmann. Nor is there a death certificate for his alias ‘S. Koch’.

  Further enquiries established that his death was registered at the Chelsea and Kensington Registry Office under the name of Hans Erich Koch. The death certificate states that the 39-year-old Hans Koch, a lieutenant in the German navy, died at 7 Kensington Palace Gardens on 6 March 1946. The cause of death: ‘asphyxia due to strangulation by Hanging at a Prisoner of War Cage. Did kill himself while the balance of his mind was disturbed.’ Suicide was established from a post-mortem, and the report was written by H.N. Stafford, coroner for London. An inquest was held on 13 March 1946. A recent enquiry to the local coroner’s office elicited a reply that the coroner’s file for the case no longer survives.

  Research into the circumstances of the death has been complicated by the fact that Tanzmann was first buried at an unknown location under the name Hans Koch, but then subsequently interred at the Cannock Chase German Military Cemetery under his real name. Today, a death certificate still only exists for Hans Erich Koch, but he was buried as Helmut Tanzmann.

  What were the circumstances surrounding Tanzmann’s short confinement in the London Cage? Information is patchy, and Tanzmann’s own interrogation reports are not among the declassified files. In the spring of 1946, the London Cage was investigating a number of missing German army commandos of Commando Tanzmann who had fled Norway on Narvik-class vessels, masquerading as crew and carrying false identity papers.6 They were wanted by the French authorities for atrocities committed in France during the war, and had taken the decision to flee from Norway to avoid arrest for war crimes. The first priority of the war crimes unit in Norway was the arrest of Captain Suhren, head of the German U-boat service there.

  During interrogation, Suhren revealed that two U-boat commanders knew the whereabouts of the missing commandos. They were First Lieutenant Hans Falke of U-boat U-992 and Lieutenant Otto Westphalen of U-968.7 A report to the London Cage followed swiftly from Norway on New Year’s Day 1946, with information that Commando Tanzmann had later been renamed Commando 21, under the command of SS Lieutenant Colonel (Obersturmbannführer) Tanzmann. The unit had originally been sent to German-occupied Norway to cover the whole of northern Norway and consisted of 120 men. As the Russians advanced through Finland in 1945, Tanzmann’s men realised they were not up to the task and fled.

  One vital piece of information supplied during interrogation was confirmation that Helmut Tanzmann had come to Britain aboard U-997, under the command of Captain Lehmann. A search for Lehmann located him at Camp 18, Featherstone Park camp, Haltwhistle in Northumberland. He was immediately transferred to the London Cage, where he confirmed during interrogation that all members of Commando Tanzmann had come to England under false names with the help of Hans Falke and Otto Westphalen. The circumstances were gradually pieced together, and a cypher telegram was received at the London Cage with the following facts: ‘Lt Koch arrived UK 17 May 1945 with five of his men disguised as members of crews of U-boats surrendered.’8 In the haste to hand over U-boat prisoners in May 1945, no proper record or check had been made of the men on board the surrendering U-boats. That was how Tanzmann and his men had evaded detection.

  The hunt was on for Hans Erich Koch (aka Helmut Tanzmann) and the commandos who were hiding as U-boat prisoners under false identities in various prisoner-of-war camps in Britain. Tanzmann was located fairly swiftly, although the files do not say where. He was brought to the London Cage in early March 1946. One interrogator scribbled in pencil on a tatty scrap of paper the following description of him: ‘hair: dark; eyes: brown; face: long and narrow, protruding cheeks; complexion: small wart on left cheek; speech: lisps, when talking always has wet mouth and lips’.9 Tanzmann’s identity book was made out in the name of Koch; he claimed that his original papers had been lost in an air raid and that new papers had been issued on the basis of his verbal statements. This is the extent of information about Tanzmann in declassified files. The circumstances surrounding his suicide continue to raise questions: how easy was it for a prisoner to hang himself, given that all items of possible harm were removed from the prisoner’s cell, including towels, shoe laces and belts? The cell’s furnishings consisted only of a bed, chamber pot and chair. There was no clue as to why Tanzmann had committed suicide – did he wish to escape justice? The use of the phrase ‘the unfortunate demise of SS Ostubaf Tanzmann’ seems somewhat dismissive.10

  Investigations into the men of Commando Tanzmann continued after Tanzmann’s suicide. Hans Falke and Otto Westphalen arrived at the cage, but it was almost full to capacity and so they were put in a room with six others, including three German generals. They were held at the London Cage for at least three weeks and interrogated by Major Terry, who witnessed their statements on 11 March 1946.

  On Sunday, 24 March, the guard instructed Falke and Westphalen, as the most junior officers in the room, to bring up a supply of wood and coal for the fireplace from the store downstairs. Falke and Westphalen were in bed and refused to move. The corporal of the guard came in and officially ordered them to carry out the guard’s instruction, at which point they moved swiftly; but their original failure to obey an order was reported to Scotland.

  Falke and Westphalen were brought before Scotland. In the presence of the sergeant and corporal of the guard, Scotland reminded Falke and Westphalen of military discipline. He said that proceedings could be initiated against them for disobeying an order and suggested that they faced a considerable term of imprisonment.11 Ac
cording to Scotland, after issuing a caution, he then pronounced their punishment: to carry out all necessary chores in the cage for forty-eight hours. During this time, they would have to wear prisoner uniform, then would revert to wearing their normal clothes.12

  That week, discipline deteriorated. By Thursday, steps had to be taken to improve the situation. Six German generals were at the centre of the unrest. On Friday, they faced Scotland and were given a frank talking-to.13 Things settled down again. The smooth running of the cage depended on ‘the strictest discipline being maintained between prisoner and interrogator’.14

  In the end, although Falke and Westphalen had connived in the crime of smuggling named war criminals into Britain, they were not punished because ‘they supplied information under interrogation which enabled us to trace these wanted men’.15 On the list of those wanted in connection with Commando Tanzmann were Fritz Mirek (aka Fritz Kuhn), finally located in Camp 166; Georg Brandis (aka Georg Keller), located in Camp 136; and Josef Grieger (aka Josef Krüger) and Matthias Wiedemeyer (aka Matthias Krauss), both located at Kempton Park. All were held in the London Cage from April 1946. Josef Grieger signed his statement on 10 April 1946; Georg Brandis signed his on the following day. The latter claimed that he had had nothing to do with Commando Tanzmann, carrying out only telephonist and guard duties. Also on 11 April, Matthias Krauss signed a statement that before fleeing to England the men had been inclined to commit suicide rather than be captured by the Russians; but Tanzmann had offered them a way out. Finally, Fritz Mirek signed his statement on 12 April. All their statements were witnessed by interrogator Captain Arthur Ryder.

  An unwanted visitor

  A week after the suicide of Tanzmann, the London Cage was unexpectedly visited by an inspector from the International Red Cross. It was 13 March 1946 when Monsieur Chavan arrived unannounced at 6–7 Kensington Palace Gardens and sought entry. He was left standing on the doorstep as Colonel Scotland refused him permission to inspect the cage.16 Chavan was apparently displeased at being turned away and deeply suspicious of the premises.17 He followed up with a phone call, insisting on being granted entry to interview prisoners. Scotland wanted to know why the cage was suddenly the subject of an inspection by the International Red Cross. Chavan said that it had not previously appeared on any list of POW camps. Scotland explained that their work involved holding men in connection with war crimes, either as suspects or witnesses: ‘Should you speak to any prisoner under interrogation on a major war crime, the effect on the prisoner might be destructive in our efforts to establish the truth and to this extent might contribute to the defeat of justice.’18

  Two days later, Monsieur Chavan was back at Kensington Palace Gardens. Although he was not allowed to inspect any of the buildings that comprised the cage, he was permitted to interview a senior (unnamed) NCO, who provided him with information on the prisoners’ food rations, bedding, accommodation, exercise facilities and camp routine. He left completely satisfied with the answers, but the visit seems to have had an unnerving effect on Scotland, who wrote to the War Office:

  Should it be decided to permit Red Cross Inspectors to have access to the London Cage, Special Investigation Branch and RAF must be advised immediately and instructed not to bring any more Stalag Luft III suspects to London. The interrogation of these criminals must proceed in Germany under conditions more closely related to police methods than to Geneva Convention principles.19

  Far more worrying was the special equipment in the basement and the existence of Cell 14, which could not be so easily dismantled. Scotland explained to the War Office: ‘The secret gear which we use to check the reliability of information obtained must be removed from the Cage before permission is given to inspect this building. This work will take a month to complete.’20

  Also, writing to Brigadier H. Shapcott of the Judge Advocate General’s Office, Scotland argued that if the London Cage and other interrogation centres were to be opened up for inspection by the Red Cross, then a solicitor would have to be appointed to be present when prisoners were interrogated on major crimes. ‘Such a demand,’ wrote Scotland, ‘would be the logical outcome of opening the cage to welfare or protecting inspectors.’21 The Red Cross made no further attempts to visit.

  None of the prisoners ever received legal representation during interrogation; as with all military or secret service interrogations, it happened behind closed doors.

  Suicides and deaths

  A former eyewitness to events at the London Cage recalled one night sometime in 1946 or 1947 when cage staff noticed a German prisoner with a ghastly appearance – ‘a terrible colour, collapsed and at death’s doors’. Instructions were issued to call an ambulance to get the man to hospital because ‘he must not die on our patch’. The prisoner was suffering from pneumonia and was rushed to the Royal Herbert Hospital in Shooter’s Hill, Woolwich. The army hospital had reserved 200 beds for MI19’s wounded prisoners awaiting interrogation. The prisoner died that night. It has not been possible to establish the details of his death.

  The name of a second suicide at the London Cage can now be identified. (Although the identities of the third and fourth suicides remain elusive, the author is confident that their names will emerge one day, either from deep in one of the files or from an unexpected source.) In spring 1948, former inspector Hans Ziegler was finally being held at the London Cage over his involvement in the Sagan case and the shooting of RAF pilots from Stalag Luft III. Ziegler, who was a large man of 18 stone, was told by Scotland that statements about his guilt had been obtained from other prisoners – Erich Zacharias and Friedrich Kiowsky – and they had implicated him in the crimes. Ziegler denied any part in the Sagan killings and began to type up his statement. He never finished it.

  On 23 February, he was found dead in his room. According to the death certificate, the 49-year-old had committed suicide at 7 Kensington Palace Gardens. Dr H. Stafford, the same London coroner who had conducted the inquest into Tanzmann’s suicide, held an inquest two days later. He concluded that Ziegler had died ‘from a haemorrhage wound of the neck, self-inflicted, and did kill himself while the balance of his mind was disturbed’.22 In the unpublished version of his memoirs, Scotland recorded that Ziegler had acquired a razor blade, cut his jugular vein and bled to death.

  Were the four suicides at the London Cage really suicides, or the result of brutal mistreatment when the balance of the prisoner’s mind was affected by torture, both psychological and physical?

  The history of another site in London has a bearing on this question. During the Second World War, a secret facility was run by the Free French Forces from 10 Duke Street, near Selfridges in central London. The address was the headquarters of an intelligence section created by General Charles de Gaulle in 1941, known as the Bureau Central de Renseignements et d’Action (BCRA). It received suspected spies and communists from Vichy France for interrogation, and worked closely with MI6 and SOE. On one occasion, after three MI6 agents came back from France, they were given an extremely harsh interrogation by BCRA, and at least one of them is known to have died in the cellar. The details contained in secret files have not yet been declassified.23 The official verdict given on the death certificate was suicide: death by hanging. Special Branch detectives undertook an investigation and discovered various injuries that the man had suffered during interrogation: ‘Intelligence men in MI6 and MI5 suspected he had been hanged (after death) to mask these wounds and to create the illusion of suicide.’24 The men had been obeying MI6 orders not to reveal certain facts to BCRA, and this cost at least one of them his life.25 British intelligence became extremely uncomfortable about what was going on at 10 Duke Street, so much so that MI5’s head of counter-espionage, Guy Liddell, was moved to write in his diary on 14 January 1943, ‘Personally, I think it is time that Duke Street was closed down.’26 Its reputation prompted an American Naval Intelligence officer to speak about a ‘secret torture chamber’:

  The men at Duke Street were hard, cruel and unscrupu
lous. They reminded me of the Nazi Party officials and workers I knew in Berlin. Duke Street sounded very much like the notorious city concentration camp, Columbia-Haus, formerly run by the SS in Berlin.27

  The suicide of prisoners in British custody was rare, but it did occur at other sites under Colonel Scotland’s jurisdiction as head of the Prisoner of War Interrogation Section. On 24 August 1946, German prisoner Christian Assem committed suicide at Camp 186, Colchester, Essex.28 He had most likely been contemplating suicide for several days, because he left a signed statement in German, dated 16 August 1946, in which he exonerated himself of involvement in concentration camps near Papenburg which were being investigated by Major Pantcheff as part of the Emsland case.

  Even today, enquiries into deaths at the London Cage are deemed too sensitive to warrant a straightforward answer. A death certificate for one of the suicides sent to the author went missing in the post; the names of two other prisoners who committed suicide have never been released; no coroner’s records survive for any of the suicide inquests; and some War Office files are reported to have been contaminated by asbestos and destroyed. All this begs the question: why such sensitivity over the suicides seventy years on? It is possible – but no longer verifiable without further evidence – that these deaths occurred as a result of brutal treatment, starvation and prolonged periods of solitary confinement, and were not suicides. The consequences of releasing such information today is discussed in the epilogue.