Chapter 9
Page 9
Wednesday May 14th 1923
German claims he surrendered to American Indian 'Medicine Man';
local hooligan arrested
An exclusive to 'the New York Journal'
Our correspondent in Germany files a colorful human interest story that, if German claims are to be believed, states in the final days of the War the Allies unleashed not only our armies of well-trained and eager troops, but also a tribe of of Indian 'shamans' who worked their magic in the trenches.
On assignment in Munich, one evening visiting a neighborhood bar - or as they're known in Germany, the local 'Biergarten' (and you can be assured, our correspondent was only there on official newspaper business), a few of the male patrons began recalling stories, to the enjoyment of all, of their War-time experiences. For any man who's getting on in years and wants to re-live the highlights of his life, telling stories of the war isn't only for the victors. While reminiscing of heroics and humilities, one man had a particularly interesting tale to tell. This man; let's call him 'Otto'; claimed one day, toward the end of hostilities, his trench was overrun by Allied troops and fearing death over being taken prisoner, he surrendered not to a boy in khaki, but to an Indian in a feathered head-dress!
In the stress of battle some things are not as they may seem. But a German infantryman capitulating to a red savage? An odd story, to say the least. So our reporter decided to inquire a bit further into this man's claims. Over a beer, we are certain. When asking him to fill out his story the German said...oh, we'll just tell you what our reporter told us, and let you figure it out for yourself.
Reporter: "So, you say at the end of the War you were captured by one of our American Indians?"
Otto: "Surrendered, not captured. There is a difference! Yah, we were told to 'hold the line' outside of Gheluvelt, a village east of Ypres. This is when we thought the war would continue another six months, a year, two! There had not been any movement along that line in...I forget the last time we were able to move...it was life in the mud, if you consider that life."
"I don't know how the English attacked without artillery, and were able to get past our machine guns, but before we knew it there were dozens, hundreds of them overrunning the trenches. We were caught by surprise and, to be truthful, most of us were tired and fed up. We hadn't had a decent meal, a full nights rest, or a bath and change of clothes in weeks - the men were ready to quit. A few fought back, but most of us knew it was hopeless, threw away our weapons and raised our hands in the air."
Reporter: "And that's when you surrendered to a redskin?"
Otto: "There were so many English – and some French mixed among them – most of us could do little more than set down our weapons and raise our hands, waiting for the next soldier to come over the top and hoping he would see our eyes before we saw his bayonet. But when I looked up at the man in front of me, it wasn't a young British soldier I saw; or any soldier wearing a uniform and carrying a rifle, or even an Englishman – but a bear of a man, very large with sun- darkened skin, dressed in a heavy, black coat - it may have been a blanket - and a hat of the cowboys, with many beads around the band. He wore more beads on his neck, and carried a rifle like those in the stories of the American West. When his eyes met mine – and I will never forget this – he said: 'Do not be foolish. Your war is over.' I do not speak the best English, but that, I understood!"
Reporter: "The Indian - he wore feathers in his hat? Or among his beads were ancient mystical carvings?
Otto: "That I do not remember. I do not think so. It was possible, there was much smoke and confusion."
Reporter: "Then you say he could have worn an Indian head-dress, and recited magical incantations known only to native Medicine Men?
Otto: "I cannot say he did not..."
Reporter: "Then we must assume he did. In America, they all do. What happened then?"
Otto: "He grabbed me by the lapels, like this [the German demonstrated by grabbing his own jacket] and pushed me toward another man, also with darkened skin but much smaller in size and with a mustache, who wore the uniform of the French Colonial, with the small, felt hat. I noticed this was very strange, as we had not seen any others of the Colonial Armies, so why should there be only one? The mustachioed man said, in German almost as good as mine, 'It is finished, my friend. Go home to your family'. I was then taken as a prisoner of war and saw no more of them. Days later in camp, a newspaper was passed from man to man and when it finally reached me, I read our position had been overtaken only hours before the war had ended. The Indian and his friend saved my life, but in other trenches my comrades were not so fortunate."
Reporter: "That is very interesting...but you must admit, you story could easily be seen as a man hoping to impress his friends with tall tales!"
Otto: "It is all true, I swear it. But if you want to hear of a story made up to impress..."
Reporter: "Yes, our readers always enjoy a well-told story. The night's still young!"
Otto: "That morning, the squad of my friend Hans-Peter was sent to rest in the village while we remained on the line. He told me that as our trenches were being over-run – at exactly the same time, I later determined – a woman dressed in armor, carrying sword and shield, burst into the operations post, knocking unconscious or killing many of his squad-mates. When he drew his pistol, she ran straight toward him, the both of them crashing through a window, Hans landing upon his back in the street. The last he remembers was seeing her jump onto the neighboring rooftop and running on her way. He was quickly captured by the English, he tells me, and did not know what happened to her after that, nor did he ever discover who she was. An American Red-Indian in the trenches – that is a good story! But a woman in armour? Impossible. Does Hans-Peter expect that we believe this was the ghost of Joan d'Arc, or the Britannia of England risen from the sea? If so, I ask where were the Valkyries to protect us? It is obviously a made-up tale. Ah, I said to him, that is not the first time a woman has thrown you out of a window!"
In the middle of the evening, describes our correspondent, another bar patron, an ex-soldier and local rabble-rouser identified as Adolphus Hitler, was stirred to anger and began bellowing "German soldiers should never surrender to the English schwine – the world will learn to submit to der Fatherland!" and other fanatical rantings. Disturbing the enjoyment of all, police were summoned, immediately arresting the loudmouth and resulting in comments from the crowd that it wasn't the first time this trouble-maker would see the inside of a jail, nor would be his last.
While our reporter had nothing further to add relating to the evening's events (although his bar-tab expenses will be carefully examined), when this paper contacted officials in Washington, D.C. concerning this remarkable story of native 'Medicine-Men' sent to terrify the Bosche, Government spokesmen had no comment.
As for the armour-clad woman throwing Germans out of windows?...let's just say on that one, Hans may have been a little too clever.
Filed: Munich, Germany; 9 May 1923
