Otto von Bolschwing, Illegal Immigrant
Some immigrants are welcome to the US with open arms – Otto Albrecht von Bolschwing, for instance, the Nazi officer who arrived in this country after the Big One and fell in with Ronald Reagan’s circle of wealthy Republicans, even had an indirect hand in the Iran-contra affair and pulled off an immense stock swindle in the 1970s. Von Bolschwing, the Nazi genocidist, was a beloved fixture of the American establishment, BUT a poor Mexican migrant farmer trying to feed his children, willing to work for a pittance, is loathed and treated as the worst sort of vermin.
The wealthy conservative establishment embraced von Bolschwing, but despise impoverished Hispanics who have been subjected to death squad (trained by the CIA, of course) rule in militarily-controlled countries, and are unable to find decent work because wages are brutally suppressed … again, largely a consequence of American influence in Latin America.
But the immigrant is culpable for seeking salvation.
The status quo American mind is a toilet for false, ego-syntonic beliefs – but thinks it’s a throne studded with diamonds of elite wisdom. Otto von Bolschwing was in his element here in the land that begot and celebrated G.W. Bush, another criminal genocidist currently regarded by the world as the official face of America. How twisted “we” have become …
From the November 9, 1982 issue of the LA Times:
Alleged Nazi Said to Have Aided U.S. Forces SACRAMENTO (UPI)–Otto Albrecht Alfred von Bolschwing, who died in disgrace last March amid federal charges that he was a Nazi war criminal, reportedly assisted the U.S. government during World War II.
Von Bolschwing died in March at 72 in a convalescent hospital in suburban Carmichael, 10 months after he was formally accused of war crimes that included the persecution of Jews in Nazi Germany.
He lost his U.S. citizenship with the understanding that he would not be deported as long as he remained in poor health. The Sacramento Bee reported that von Bolschwing’s activities on behalf of the Allies at the war’s end are documented in a letter dated June 7, 1945, and signed by Lt. Col. Ray F. Goggin of the 71st Infantry, U.S. Army.
The letter reads: “Otto Albrecht von Bolschwing, a member of the Tyrol Underground Movement, materially assisted the armed forces of the United States during our advance through Fern Pass and western Austria prior to the surrender of the German army. During our occupation, he personally captured over 20 high-ranking Nazi officials and SS officers and led patrols that resulted in the capture of many more.’ As visibility permitted and we came closer to the garrison, we could see intense German activity; numerous vehicles, artillery pieces and staff cars in motion, presumably preparing to defend their flanks and front sectors but still unaware that our attack would shortly penetrate their lightly defended rear. Obviously, up to this point in time, detection of our movement along the Pass had not been seen. I was later told that the defending forces thought we were paratroopers! Shortly thereafter, our lead units closed on the enemy and some resistance was encountered.
A battery of German artillery supporting the defense of the Fern Pass was overrun as well as were several individual artillery pieces. German staff withdrawal was stopped and 20 staff officers surrendered en mass. The large concrete bridge was saved from destruction by seizure and quick removal of demolitions. One hundred and three prisoners were taken along with a complete battery of 88’s. More prisoners were captured as our two Battalions linked up. The complete disruption of the German forces in that area was assured as defenses in the narrow valley began to crumble. At this time, 1750 hours, May 2nd, most of the First Battalion was in Fernstein, three miles from the Third Battalion by highway. Units of our Battalion returned to Fernstein in a blinding snow storm.
After our company had reached the summit, we continued to walk in single-file, combat ready, about 10 paces apart, searching for the enemy on either side of our path. The earlier fire-fight, which seemed to be over, had taken place considerably up the line from my position (probably by Company C, just ahead of our company) and had claimed some casualties on both sides. By this time, our medics were attending to several in my immediate area. The captured German soldiers, not unhappily and quite willingly, were being taken to our rear, presumably for interrogation and confinement.
As I was walking along on the relatively level path, still aware that there may be further action, I heard a painful, anguished cry which seemed to be coming from my left, several tens of yards up the side of the mountain. The crier was completely hidden in the scrubby brush and I could tell by the voice that it came from a German. No one on the path seemed to be paying any attention. If I continued walking, in a few minutes I would be out of earshot and still alive. I had no interest in becoming a minor hero, particularly a dead minor hero, and most particularly a dead, minor hero just before the war’s end. Again and again we had been warned that there was a small, hard-core group of German fanatics who would willingly give up their lives for the ‘Thousand-Year Third Reich’ if only they could take one or more Allied lives along with them. Was this one of them? I did not know.
On the other hand, I thought surely the vast majority of Germans knew that the war was essentially over and if they could just survive for a few short weeks, they too would ultimately be able to return to their homes, their families and their loved ones. Just a few more weeks! The thought must have been ringing in their ears just like in ours.
Balancing the two alternatives, I decided that to bring what was probably a wounded soldier off the mountainside where our medics could help him was worth the danger but I would reduce the risk to its absolute, lowest possible value. I motioned with my M-1 rifle to two of the passing German prisoners that they were to step out of line and follow my hand signals. The cries were continuing so there was no question as to what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, and who was going with me. I was wearing my helmet with the two holes in it which I hoped added to my image of authority and invulnerability.
The two prisoners moved cautiously ahead of me as the three of us clambered up the snow-pocked mountainside in the direction of the cries. My rifle was pointed just a few feet from their backs and my finger was on the trigger, eight cartridges were ready for the chamber, my mouth was bone-dry and my twenty-one-year-old heart was pounding adrenalin to every cell of my body. As we approached the wounded soldier, my focus was to make sure the two prisoners’ bodies were always close together and between the wounded man and me. Even though we were trying to rescue him, he could still be armed and dangerous. A rifle bullet could easily pass through the body of one of the prisoners and kill me behind him but at least my obscured position reduced the risk.
We found the soldier unarmed, wounded in the legs as I recall, and totally uninterested in putting up any further fight. The two prisoners made a basket carrier with their arms and struggled back down the mountainside where they laid him alongside the path. Shortly thereafter I was able to get one of our medics to attend to him. And I walked on—-I felt that I really was going to make it through the end of the war! and perhaps I had helped one other to do so as well.
The situation of the Germans was hopeless and on the 5th of May General Brandenburger surrendered his Nineteenth Army. Troops of our division moved quickly to secure the Division Zone and to make contact with the American Tenth Mountain Division at the Italian border. The war for me and the 44th was over.”