Am 29.12.2016 veröffentlicht
“He told us to imagine no possessions, and there he was, with millions of dollars and yachts and farms and country estates, laughing at people like me who had believed the lies and bought the records and built a big part of their lives around his music”
Mark David Chapman Lyrics: “IMAGINE” (updated slightly)
Imagine there’s no bullshit
No commie millionaires
With 270 million invested In real estate, antiques and shares.
Imagine no bullshit “philosophers”
No fake”capitalist” commie Jews
Communizing America through immigration
While they clean up we lose. Imagine no “outsourcing”
The way it used to be Imagine a living wage,
Our very own industry.
Imagine a replacement birth rate
A healthy middle and working class
No abortion or pornography
Not just “peddle your ass”.
Imagine healthy children
No “gay marriage” too
Imagine a healthy family
Minus the filthy Jew.
Imagine the old-fashioned virtues
It’s easy if you try
Imagine love and devotion
Motherhood and apple pie.
Imagine all the commies
Machine-gunned on a beach
Suum cuique dare = Give what’s due to each. — – C. Porter (YouTube)
Marriage of Meinoud and Florrie Rost van Tonningen on 21 December 1940
By Carolyn Yeager, 14 October, 2011
The life of Florence Rost Van Tonningen, wife and widow of Dutch economist and military man M.M. Rost van Tonningen, displays the qualities of character, faithfulness and fearlessness that are the hallmark of heroic European women.
Her husband, loyal to his National Socialist and pro-Hitler beliefs, was murdered, without even the appearance of a trial, in circumstances which the Dutch government has decreed must remain secret until the year 2069.
The intrepid Florence was herself subject to persecution in the courts of her native Netherlands for distributing and possessing forbidden literature on the war. She tells her harrowing story of escape and survival in a paper presented to the 9th International Revisionist Conference.
Presented here is the more personal, last half of her paper, which can be found in it’s entirety at www.vho.org/GB/Journals/JHR/9/4/Rost427-438.html.
Excerpted from: For Holland and for Europe: The Life and Death of Dr. M.M. Rost van Tonningen
by FLORENCE S. ROST VAN TONNINGEN
Capture and Murder
M.M. Rost van Tonningen and I were married on December 21, 1940. ReichsFührer-SS Heinrich Himmler was best man. Our matrimonial vow echoed the SS oath: “Our honor is loyalty.”
Before the end came for the German Reich, my husband and I were given the chance to escape to Brazil. He refused, determined to see things through to the end and ready to take responsibility for his acts. Finally granted his wish, he took up arms as a member of the Dutch Waffen SS.
Although my husband had let me decide for myself whether I should flee with our two children to South America, naturally I declined. With the birth of my third child imminent, I made a perilous escape from advancing Polish troops across lands which the Germans had largely flooded to hinder the Allies’ progress. A German ship then brought me to the island of Terschelling, in West Frisia, far from the front.
There, in a small room, unaided and alone, I brought my third child into the world, hale and hardy. My husband was never to learn of the birth of this son.
Soon the people of the village knew, however. My child’s arrival was entered into the local register of births and, following the local custom, the town crier, after blowing on his great horn, proclaimed that the new-born child was the son of Rost van Tonningen. At virtually the same time the islanders learned of the official announcement of their country’s liberation by the Allies, and the streets blossomed with little Dutch flags.
My husband was well known; his name adorned every Dutch bank note. The frenzied crowds, discovering that the wife of a notorious “collaborator” was in their midst, dragged my children and me from our room and would surely have lynched us in their wild hysteria had not the ship’s doctor of the German vessel which brought me to the island happened by in his car just then. Driving into the crowd, he pulled us into the car and drove off at high speed.
Since the Kriegsmarine had capitulated, there was no chance of escaping on the ship which had brought me to Terschelling; like the rest of the German warships in the harbor, it was under embargo. Even my brave rescuer believed there was no hope for me; he offered me a poison capsule.
There was, however, one German vessel at anchor there which hadn’t been seized, for it wasn’t a warship. I begged the captain to help my children and me escape. Without wasting any words he weighed anchor and we sailed off into the North Sea, negotiating dangerous minefields until we reached Cuxhafen, at the mouth of the Elbe. I was eager to reach Germany because I believed, following the death of Adolf Hitler on April 30, that the Allies might cease hostilities against the Reich and march, together with the remaining Waffen SS formations, against the Red Army. Himmler had transmitted just such a proposal, through Count Bernadotte, to the British and Americans, and my husband, close to the Reichsführer’s circle, had gotten wind of it. Like my children, I was half-dead with hunger and fatigue, but I still hoped that I would meet my husband somewhere in Germany. That was not to be, however. As I was to learn later, M.M. Rost van Tonningen died brutally at the hands of his captors.
Shortly after arriving at Cuxhaven, where my children and I were admitted to the hospital, I learned that I was about to be arrested and extradited by the British. With the help of a nurse I escaped and, fleeing by foot with my children along country roads, made my way to Goslar in the Harz, where I was reunited with my family. After a few days, however, I was arrested by the British and returned to the Netherlands. It was only after returning that I learned something of my husband’s fate.
At first I was kept prisoner in the subterranean dungeons of Ft. Honswijk, where I endured terrible treatment from the embittered and vengeful so-called Dutch “democrats.” After my release, I was able to locate and regain custody of my three sons. but all our property had been confiscated.
My Fight for the Truth
I was then forced to make a living for my family and myself, not an easy thing for the widow of a prominent National-Socialist sympathizer in postwar Holland. Before the war I had studied biology under the great ethologist Konrad Lorenz, and my studies had brought me to China and the Dutch East Indies. Like other “collaborators.” however, I was excluded from work in my own field.
At first I tried to support my sons by painting lampshades. No sooner had my persecutors learned of this than the rumor was spread that the lampshades were made of human skin (the same lie that was spread about Ilse Koch). I had to give up that enterprise. Thereafter I started an electrical equipment business. Trained as a biologist, I made myself into a businesswoman and technical expert. Beginning with 100 florins, over the course of 34 years I built up my business to a factory employing 25 men.
Since my release from prison I have worked tirelessly to establish the truth about my husband’s death, of which I learned in my captivity. Due to the refusal of the allegedly “humane” and “democratic” regime which the Allies restored in the Netherlands. I have so far been able to learn very little.
In April 1945 M.M. Rost van Tonningen was captured by Canadian troops during the Allied invasion of the Netheriands. At first he was held, together with other Dutch SS officers, at a concentration camp in Elst. Following a visit by Prince Bernhard, consort of Queen Wilhelmina, my husband was transferred to Utrecht and then, on May 24, to a jail in Scheveningen, near The Hague. Thirteen days later he was murdered by his captors in Scheveningen.
I never received official notice of my husband’s death, which authorities later claimed was a suicide. They have never produced any evidence to support this claim: the records pertaining to my husband have been sealed until the year 2069.
I was presented, however, with a bill from the municipal sanitation service of The Hague, for on June 6, 1945, the day of my husband’s death, his remains were transferred, first from the prison to a hospital and then to a cemetery, in a garbage truck. It was given to me by a policeman named Gross, who carried a dossier with gruesome details of my husband’s mistreatment.
When I visited the hospital to which my husband had been taken, the physician-in-charge was badly rattled when he learned who I was. When I asked him about my husbands death, he stammered, “No, no, Mrs. Rost van Tonningen, I can’t talk about it.” Then he took off his white coat and led me out of the hospital, where he hailed a taxi and directed me to the Witte-Brug Cemetery.
When I arrived there, it was the same story. The director was frightened, for he had been told to say nothing regarding my husband. He simply pointed to a row of portfolios, labeled “Secret,” on a shelf, and told me that one of them told the story of my husband’s death, of which he could say nothing more. Then he showed me the grave, a mass-grave set aside for paupers, into which my husband’s body, without coffin, had been tossed.
Although I tried for years to obtain permission to reinter my husband in our family plot, I was unsuccessful. My request was taken under consideration by the Council of State, which procrastinated for some time before informing me that the grave had been cleared.
In 1950, which had been proclaimed a Holy Year by Pope Pius XII, I visited the Pope in Rome. He was aware of the mistreatment and murder of my husband, and he promised to help me. On my return to Holland, I visited the papal nuncio in order to obtain a document concerning my husband’s death. I was unsuccessful, however, since the Minister of Justice, a Catholic who was cooperating with the nuncio, was suddenly transferred to the West Indies, where he had been appointed governor. His successor, who was Jewish, was not friendly to my case. My attempts to present my case to the International Court of Justice at The Hague were similarly frustrated.
When I reached seventy years of age, I fell ill, and required two operations. My sons were not interested in taking over the running of my factory, and during my convalescence some of my enemies, allegedly former members of the resistance, were able through various tricks, to gain control of my business.
During the past five years I have received over one hundred bomb threats, and my windows have been smashed many times. My brake cables have been cut. For my opponents, everything is allowed.
The press has stepped up its campaign against me as well. Since my husband had been a member of the Dutch parliament, I am entitled by law to a small pension. In 1984 a Dutch magazine discovered this, and the professional “anti- Nazis” succeeded in pressuring parliament to hold a hearing on whether my pension should be cancelled. So far they have been unsuccessful.
Nevertheless, I have become something of a judicial “muscle-meter,” called “the Black Widow,” on whom litigants and lawyers can try their strength. After my periodical Manuscripten published a picture of an unknown woman in the costume of a fisherman’s wife, I was astounded to receive a letter from a lawyer demanding 50,000 florins for his client, an actress. Since we had (quite unawares) used her picture without obtaining permission, I was eventually forced to pay her 2,500 florins, as well as assume the costs of the lawsuit, an additional 10,000 florins.
My home has been twice searched by police looking for allegedly anti-Jewish literature. On their first search the police found a brochure which questioned the factuality of the Holocaust. The court found that to challenge the Holocaust was anti-Jewish, and I received a three-month suspended sentence. The second search resulted in the police confiscating Hitler’s Mein Kampf and the Great Holocaust Trial. My trial for possession of these books will begin on March 9, 1989 [Mrs. Rost van Tonningen was subsequently convicted of possessing these forbidden books, each available from the IHR. – Ed.].
I hope that I have been able to communicate successfully to an American audience something of my husband’s life and the ideals for which we both struggled. My husband refused to abdicate his responsibilities or abandon his people. He stayed and fought honorably, only to be butchered. Why? I believe not merely because Rost van Tonningen was a Dutch National Socialist, but because he knew too much about those of his countrymen who cooperated with the Germans in the beginning, then went over to theAllies as Dutch patriots, “heroes of the resistance,” and the like. Had my husband stood trial, his defense might have proved embarrassing for many Dutchmen in high places.
In my life I have experienced many high points, as well as low points. I have tried to be equal to each situation, always attempting to live in accordance with the spiritual basis of life, the mission that is given each of us to carry out on the earthly plane. The life of each of us is merely a thread in the larger fabric or plan.
I still count our meetings with Adolf Hitler as highlights in my life. For us he was a leader who dedicated, and sacrificed, himself for his people, one who eminently fulfilled his life’s mission. He united his countrymen, of all classes and stations, from the aristocracy to the farmers and laborers, as had no man before him. His soldiers fought heroically to the last, particularly the men of the Waffen SS, not only Germans but from across Europe. Like my beloved brother, who died in combat in the ranks of the SS, and my husband, I think of Adolf Hitler as the first European.
I shall close with the words of Rudolf Hess, the martyr who earned, but was never awarded, the Nobel Prize for Peace. After being sentenced to life imprisonment at Nuremberg despite his flight for peace, he told the court:
If I were standing once again at the beginning, I would act again as I acted, even though I knew at the end I would burn at the stake. No matter what people may do, one day I shall stand before the judgment seat of God Eternal. I will justify myself to Him and I know that He will absolve me.
Master Sergeant John C. Woods poses for photographers in his ship’s bunk after he became a celebrity as the Army’s Hangman for the 10 alleged war criminals condemned to death by the Allies’ International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg in October 1946.
By Carolyn Yeager, February 1, 2018
This is a gruesome story – the culmination of a gruesome war which was followed up with an atrocity-filled post-war Germany occupation. Those responsible for the rampant criminality were the Allies—the All-Lies—who were successful at covering themselves with an image as world saviors.
On October 16, 1946, in a ghoulish death procession that began shortly after 1 a.m., ten political and military leaders of the Third Reich were hanged by the neck until dead by a psychopathic Navy deserter who lied about having previous experience as an executioner. He was Master Sergeant John C. Woods, promoted to that rank from private after being selected as the Army’s hangman. The promotion cannot be attributed to any merit of his own, but in order to endow him with a greater sense of worthiness for his special task. His assistant was a military policeman named Joseph Malta, a 28-year old floor-sander in private life. Both had volunteered for the job after the Army put out word for an executioner, asking if anyone had experience. Woods claimed he had hanged two men in Texas and two in Oklahoma. No records exist showing that he did.
Malta said of his work of ultimately helping to hang a total of 60 Third Reich government and military leaders, “It was a pleasure doing it.” In saying this, he echoed his colleague Woods, who was widely quoted in newspapers and magazines with these homespun words:
“I hanged those ten Nazis … and I’m proud of it … I wasn’t nervous … A fellow can’t afford to have nerves in this business.”
Woods boasted to Time magazine on Oct. 26, 1946:
“The way I look at this hanging job, somebody has to do it. I got into it kind of by accident, years ago in the States.”
He lied. The only hanging Woods had done was in the U.S. Army, where they accepted what he claimed to be his experience without any checking whatsoever. The idea of hanging others appealed to Woods, and the Army was not particular. As a person who had joined the Navy at age 18 and been diagnosed with constitutional psychopathy after going AWOL only a few months later and dishonorably discharged as “unfit to serve,” he was able to enlist in the Army in 1943 at the age of 32 and gravitate to a cushy job that very few would volunteer for.
How and why the most famous hangings of the 20th Century were botched is explained by the callous disregard of the U.S. Army headed by General Dwight David Eisenhower (an admitted German-hater) for the people and nation of Germany. The famous line “Ike” wrote to his wife Mamie in September 1944, was “God, I hate the Germans.”
We’ll start with the selection of John C. Woods as the Army’s hangman. Wood’s history is as follows:
He was born June 5, 1911, in Wichita and attended Wichita High School. He dropped out after two years and joined the U.S. Navy in 1929. After serving only a few months, he went AWOL and was dishonorably discharged with a diagnosis of psychopathic inferiority without psychosis, a term coined in Germany in the 1880s to describe irredeemable criminals who had a mix of violent and antisocial characteristics.
Woods returned to Kansas and worked intermittently as a construction laborer and part-time in a feed store in Greenwood and Woodson counties during the Great Depression. He worked for a time for the Civilian Conservation Corps but was dishonorably discharged from that after six months, according to his biographer,author French MacLean, a retired U.S. Army Colonel. Woods also worked at Boeing as a tool and die maker.
When the United States entered World War II, Woods saw it as an opportunity to improve his situation. He enlisted in the U.S. Army which he shouldn’t have been able to do since he had already been dishonorably discharged from the Navy. But the Army didn’t check his records. Prior to his induction, he had married Hazel Chilcott, a nurse; fortunately they had no children. At his Army induction, he was listed as having blue eyes, brown hair with a ruddy complexion, standing only 5’4½” tall and weighing only 130 pounds.
In 1943, he was assigned to Company B of the 37th Engineer Combat Battalion in the Fifth Engineer Special Brigade. He likely participated in the D-Day landings at Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944. Not long after, the Army put out word for an executioner, asking if anyone had experience. The Army had 96 U.S. soldiers tried with death penalty cases that were scheduled for execution in 1944, for crimes such as desertion, murder and rape while U.S. forces were in Africa and Europe. The most famous was Private Eddie Slovik, whose story was made into a television movie in 1974.
Some of those soldiers were executed by firing squad, such as Slovik. Others were hung.
Woods volunteered for the job, saying he had hanged two men in Texas and two in Oklahoma. As stated above, no records exist showing this. But on May 7, 1945, he was assigned to the Headquarters of the Normandy Base Section, but was attached back to the 2913th for duty. On September 3, 1945, Woods was released from attachment and assigned to the Headquarters CHANOR Base Section.
… his crumpled hat was always worn at an improper angle.
In October 1946, he gained world-wide fame as the official hangman for the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg. He told the Stars and Stripes that Nuremberg was “just what I wanted. I wanted this job so terribly that I stayed here a bit longer, though I could have gone home earlier.”
One of his assistants, the Jew Herman Obermayer, described Woods as slovenly, unshaven, with crooked yellow teeth and dirty, unpressed pants and an insubordinate attitude. He said the hangman “defied all the rules, didn’t shine his shoes and didn’t get shaved. His dress was always sloppy.” Obermayer went on: “His dirty pants were always unpressed, his jacket looked as though he slept in it for weeks, his M/Sgt. stripes were attached to his sleeve by a single stitch of yellow thread at each corner, and his crumpled hat was always worn at an improper angle.”
This “alcoholic, ex-bum” with “foul breath, and dirty neck,” as Obermayer put it, knew he could flaunt his slovenly appearance since his superiors needed his services.
The executions took place in a brightly lighted prison gymnasium where three black wooden gallows had been erected, two for the executions and one spare. The plan was to execute one after the other, and after the first was pronounced dead and carried out, the third would be brought in to that same scaffold. After the third had fallen through the trap door, the second would be checked, pronounced dead and removed, making way for the fourth to be brought in. As you can imagine, it was a goulish scene for the witnesses. One was Kingsbury Smith who wrote a detailed report peppered with sarcastic put-downs of the Hitler regime for his newspaper, from which I took much of the following description.
The first to appear was Joachim von Ribbentrop, the Reich Foreign Minister. Time described it this way in its Oct. 28, 1946 magazine:
At 1:11 a.m. he entered the gymnasium, and all officers, official witnesses and correspondents rose to attention. Ribbentrop’s manacles were removed and he mounted the steps (there were 13) to the gallows. With the noose around his neck, he said: “My last wish … is an understanding between East and West. …” All present removed their hats. The executioner tightened the noose. A chaplain standing beside him prayed. The assistant executioner pulled the lever, the trap dropped open with a rumbling noise, and Ribbentrop’s hooded figure disappeared. The rope was suddenly taut, and swung back & forth, creaking audibly.
According to the account of Kingsbury Smith, from which these quotes are taken, Ribbentrop said in full: “God protect Germany” in German, and then added “My last wish is that Germany realize its entity and that an understanding be reached between the East and the West. I wish peace to the world.”
It took Ribbentrop 18 minutes to be pronounced dead. But two minutes after the trap door closed on the foreign minister, Field Marshall and head of the Supreme Command of the Wehrmacht, serving directly under Hitler, Wilhelm Keitel was led to the second scaffold. His last words, uttered in a full, clear voice, were translated as ‘I call on God Almighty to have mercy on the German people. More than 2 million German soldiers went to their death for the fatherland before me. I follow now my sons – all for Germany.’
In Keitel’s case the trap door, which was too small for his large frame and hindered his falling freely, opened “with a loud bang” and apparently smacked him in the face as he went down, doing extensive damage. And he wasn’t dead, his neck did not break, but he slowly strangulated as he hung hidden under the gallows, moaning and struggling. After 28 minutes he was pronounced dead. How could the U.S. Army officiate over such a travesty.
Wilhelm Keitel was a double victim of the Allies vengeful approach, because he could never have been found guilty under international law as it existed during the war. The All-Lies and their Jewish legal specialists used a NEW POST-WAR change in international law – that professional soldiers cannot escape punishment by claiming they were dutifully carrying out orders of their superiors. All during the war, the law said otherwise – that soldiers and officers were not held responsible if they were following orders. And, of course, we know that no commanding officers on the Allied side were put on trial. If they were, the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces in Europe, Eisenhower himself, would have been guilty of many war crimes.
The corpse of Wilhelm Keitel has dried blood coming out of his eyes and mouth because of his long struggle with suffocation. The right side of his face looks bloody or badly bruised and his expression is one of having endured prolonged suffering. Even in death, his body looks tense.
There was now a pause in the proceedings. The 30-odd observers were allowed to have a smoke, get up and walk around. The correspondents furiously scribbled their notes. Finally an American and a Russian doctor, both with their stethoscopes, entered the curtained portion under the first scaffold. When they emerged, they spoke to an American colonel who snapped to attention and announced to the room: “The man is dead.” The hangman, Woods, mounted the gallows and cut the rope with a large “commando-type” knife, and Ribbentrop’s limp body with the black hood still over his head was removed by stretcher carriers to the far end of the room and placed behind a black canvas curtain.
The directing colonel said to the witnesses, “Cigarettes out, please, gentlemen.” And the next condemned man was brought in while Keitel continued to hang, hidden below the gallows.
This was Ernst Kaltenbrunner, head of security. After glancing around the room, he mounted the steps with a steady gait, and his last words were: “I have loved my German people and my fatherland with a warm heart. I have done my duty by the laws of my people and I am sorry my people were led this time by men who were not soldiers and that crimes were committed of which I had no knowledge. Germany, good luck.”
Clearly, Kaltenbrunner did not have any first- or even second-hand-knowledge of “death camps” or other alleged war crimes even though he was head of the Reich Main Security Office and worked under Heinrich Himmler. But exactly because he didn’t know, his only course under Nuremberg rulings was to acknowledge their reality while asserting he had no part in them. This is what the illegal “rules of the court” forced on the defendants, and they also had no way to learn otherwise while in detention.
His trap door was sprung at 1:39 a.m. Being exceptionally tall (6’6”), and the rope said to have been not the right length for his height, he was not pronounced dead until 13 minutes later, at 1:52 a.m. But before that happened, Alfred Rosenberg was led in and went through the same process, except for being the only one to refuse his opportunity to speak any last words.
The sixth man was 69-year-old Wilhelm Frick, Minister of the Interior. He entered the execution chamber at 2:05 a.m., six minutes after Rosenberg had been pronounced dead. He seemed the least steady of any so far and stumbled on the thirteenth step of the gallows. His only words were, ‘Long live eternal Germany,’ before he was hooded and dropped through the trap. He was also badly bloodied, his corpse (below) showing the agony of his last 12 minutes of life, the time it took from the drop to his being pronounced dead.
The body of Wilhelm Frick, Reich Minister of the Interior, also shows evidence of a very difficult hanging. His face is contorted in agony and blood is everywhere. Yet he was very quiet on the gallows and only said a few words.
Post-event investigators claim that the trap door did not retain the rubber bungs when opened, so some men were hit in the face by the rebounding trap door. Others say Woods got the drop wrong … either through incompetence or on purpose. Albert Pierrepoint, the French expert hangman, has written that the correct drop is absolutely essential to ensure the neck vertebrae is severed on the “jerk,” to be certain of instantaneous death. The U.S. Army doesn’t have to answer for any of this because, as we all know, these Nazis deserved whatever they got.
Donald E. Wilkes, Jr., a professor of law at the University of Georgia Law School, noted that many of the executed Nazis fell from the gallows with insufficient force to snap their necks, resulting in a macabre, suffocating death struggle that in some cases lasted many, many minutes:
“Although [Kingsbury] Smith discreetly omitted mentioning it, the experienced Army hangman, Master Sgt. John C. Woods, botched the executions. A number of the hanged Nazis died, not quickly from a broken neck as intended, but agonizingly from slow strangulation. Ribbentrop and Sauckel each took 14 minutes to choke to death, while Keitel, whose death was the most painful, struggled for 24 minutes at the end of the rope before expiring.” https://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/01/17/the-nuremburg-hangings-not-so-smooth-either/
On Axis History Forum, we find one contributor, Max Wilson, writing:
I have one piece of research which quotes Woods as saying that he would “drop those Nazis” like poled oxen. Woods used a standard military drop of six feet for all of his victims, not the variable drops developed by the masterful British hangman, Pierrepont. Pierrepont’s technique tailored the drop to the victim’s weight, height and physical condition, almost assuring instantaneous death 100% of the time. The Nuremberg gallows also was inferior to the British design in which the double doors of the trap are caught and held open. Apparently the Nuremberg gallows allowed the doors to swing, whacking the condemned. The Nuremberg noose was a typical “cowboy” hangman’s knot, a design discarded by the British long ago and replaced by a slip-knot.
Even Reichhart, one of the master Nazi executioners, considered Woods a crude amateur and the two disliked each other intensely. Reichhart did not assist in the Nuremberg executions or the gallows design, something which has been asserted.
And another, Markus, wrote:
According to Stanley Tilles who assisted Woods at Nuremberg, he bungled the executions on purpose. In the case of Streicher. “Woods applied the hood … adjusted the noose, but placed its coils off center, [so they] would not snap Streichers neck and he would strangle. I realized instantly that this was Woods intention and I saw a small smile cross his lips as he pulled the hangmans handle.” (Tilles: By the neck until dead. Gallows of Nuremberg)
Tilles also mentions that Woods was a great german-hater. Considering that Tilles in his memoirs still does not lack sympathy for Woods, there is no reason to assume that he is not a credible witness. Third in charge was Joseph Malta. In an interview (for the [German] TV-documentation “Hitlers Helfer”) he confirmed with barely-concealed satisfaction that the hangings were badly botched and needlessly prolonged.
The seventh man to enter the gymnasium, at 2:12 a.m. was Nuremberg magazine publisher Julius Streicher, who was not a member of either the government or the military. His eyes took in the three wooden scaffolds, then moved around the room and rested on the small group of witnesses. He walked steadily to the Number One gallows, stopped at the base of the steps and uttered a loud ‘Heil Hitler!’ which echoed through the hall. An American colonel standing by the steps said sharply, ‘Ask the man his name.’ Streicher shouted, ‘You know my name well.’
At the top of the platform, Streicher proclaimed, ‘Now it goes to God.’ He was pushed to the spot directly beneath the rope, while the hangman, our friend John Woods, stood behind him holding the noose back. Streicher was swung around to face the witnesses and glared at them. Then he screamed, ‘Purim Fest 1946.’ [Purim is a Jewish holy-day commemorating the hanging of the Persian Haman and his 10 sons in ancient days, whom the Jews believed had been conspiring against them. The story is a fiction in the Book of Esther in the Old Testament. Streicher was pointing to the Jews as responsible for his execution.]
When asked if he had any last words, Streicher shouted, ‘The Bolsheviks will hang you one day.’ He then could be heard to say ‘Adele, my dear wife’ as the black hood was put over his head. The trap opened with a loud banging sound and he went down kicking. When the rope snapped taut, it continued swinging wildly and groans could be heard from within the lower interior portion of the scaffold. When they didn’t stop, the hangman Woods descended from the gallows platform, went inside through the black canvas curtain and did something that put a stop to the groans and brought the swinging rope to a standstill.
It took Julius Streicher 14 minutes to to be pronounced dead. Kingsbury Smith said everyone there was of the opinion Streicher had strangled.
Fritz Saukel, Reich Labor Chief, followed Streicher. Once on the Gallows #2 platform, he called out, “I am dying innocent. The sentence is wrong. God protect Germany and make Germany great again. Long live Germany! God protect my family.” As in the case of Streicher, there was a loud groan under the gallows as the noose snapped tightly under the weight of his body.
Colonel General Alfred Jodl, chief of Operations for the High Command, was ninth in the torture and death procession. He looked nervous but his voice was calm as he said his last words, “My greetings to you, my Germany.” A salutation or salute. What was said about Field Marshal Keitel’s immunity from prosecution applies to Jodl also. In fact, on 28 February 1953, a West German denazification court declared Jodl not guilty of breaking international law, finding that he was wrongly sentenced to death. This declaration was later revoked under pressure from the United States by a political minister in Bavaria.
Arthur von Seyss-Inquart, Czechoslovak-born governor of Austria and the Netherlands, was last. He limped on his left club-foot and the guards helped him up the stairs. In a low but intense voice, he said “I hope that this execution is the last act of the tragedy of the Second World War and that the lesson taken from this world war will be that peace and understanding should exist between peoples. I believe in Germany.”
He dropped to his death at 2:45 a.m.
No bodies were turned over to family or friends. All were cremated (burned in ovens!!) and the ashes were said to have been thrown into the Isar river.
John Woods’ own strange execution