then knocked once more, the door would be opened immediately. Without
the proper signal all the knocking in the world would not help, for
this was the entrance to the carefully guarded publication rooms of
the _American Gentile_ and the headquarters for Nazi anti-democratic
activities in the Middle West. But even more guarded than the location
of the printing plant were the goings and comings of the paper's
editor, Captain Victor DeKayville and his financial backer, Charles
O'Brien.
This brings me to two of the leading Nazi agents in the United States,
one of whom originally started the newspaper. Certainly none of the
American suckers who gave them money to spread pro-Nazi propaganda
knew that both were masquerading under false names and that one of
them is an ex-convict.
Those social leaders in Chicago and San Francisco, whose doors were
always open to the handsome, dashing Prince Peter Kushubue with his
sad eyes and his talk of how the Bolsheviki had confiscated his vast
estates and family jewels in Old Russia, may be interested to learn
that his Highness, the Prince, is really--well, let me give a brief
sketch of his activities before he became a Nazi agent:
In 1922, a Russian emigre, born in Petrograd and christened Peter
Afanassieff or Aphanassieff, came to the United States seeking his
fortune, preferably in the form of a wealthy heiress. As an ordinary
run-of-the-mill Afanassieff, he was just an unemployed White Russian
looking for a job and it didn't take him long to discover that in this
democratic country heiresses and their doting papas go nuts over
titles. So overnight Peter Afanassieff blossomed out into Prince Peter
Kushubue; and as a Prince whose wealth had been confiscated by the
Bolsheviki, the doors of San Francisco society opened to him.
Afanassieff just barely missed marrying a wealthy heiress on the West
Coast, and in his despondence he tried his hand at a little forgery.
But he picked the wrong outfit to practice penmanship on. He forged a
United States Treasury check and when the federal men got after him he
fled to Chicago. He was picked up and on November 29, 1929, he found
himself before a U.S. Commissioner who ordered his return to San
Francisco. On December 19 of the same year he pleaded guilty before
Federal Judge F.J. Kerrigan and was given a year and a half. At the
trial he admitted to being just an ordinary Afanassieff and served his
sentence under that name.
When he came out he alternated between being Prince Kushubue and an
ordinary Afanassieff and then, because the 1930 crash had kicked the
bottom out of the market for foreign titles, he picked himself a good
solid American name: Armstrong. He said it was his mother's maiden
name. For convenience we'll call him Armstrong from now on.
When he arrived in Chicago in 1933, he met some White Russians who
were working with Harry A. Jung on an altogether new translation of
the "Protocols." Jung planned to publish and distribute the forgeries
in order to scare the wits out of his Christian suckers, but changed
his mind when he discovered he could buy them cheaper and resell at a
higher price. Jung, in turn, introduced Armstrong to Nazi agents.
Jung and the ex-convict hit it up. Before long Armstrong became Jung's
secret agent No. 31 (Jung is No. 1 and always signs his letters to
agents with that number. His agents, too, sign only their numbers.
They are not supposed even to write the number but every once in a
while an agent slips up and scribbles a postscript in his own
handwriting. A reproduction of one of No. 31's reports to the No. 1
Guy appears on the opposite page.)
It was not long after Jung introduced Armstrong to Nazi agents that
the White Russian decided that he could work the racket himself. He
began to meet secretly with Nazi agents without telling Jung about it.
Their favorite meeting place was at Von Thenen's Tavern, 2357 Roscoe
St., Chicago. Present at these meetings, usually called by Fritz
Gissibl, head of the "Friends of the New Germany,"[10] were Armstrong,
Captain Victor DeKayville, J.K. Leibl (who organized an underground
Nazi clique in South Bend, Ind.), Oscar Pfaus, Nick Mueller, Toni
Mueller, Jose Martini, Franz Schaeffer and Gregor Buss. When Gissibl
couldn't attend, his right-hand man Leibl acted for him.
In March, 1936, Armstrong and the others decided to establish a
"National Alliance" to aid in Nazi work. They decided to use the
utmost secrecy lest what they were doing and who were behind it, leak
out. They met only in private homes and so careful were they that the
host of one meeting would not be told where the next meeting was to be
held. Only a picked handful of the most trusted Nazi agents were
invited.
The first meeting was held at Bockhold's home, 1235 Wave-land Ave.,
Chicago; the second at the home of Mrs. Emma Schmid, 4710 Winthrop
Ave., Chicago. To the second meeting they invited C.O. Anderson of 601
Diversey Parkway, Chicago. He was listed by the Nazis and the White
Russians as a good sucker because he had contributed money to Jung.
[Illustration: Letter written by secret agent No. 31 (Peter
Afanassieff, _alias_ Prince Kushubue, _alias_ Peter V. Armstrong)
to No. 1 (Harry A. Jung).]
[Illustration: Letter showing contact between Peter V. Armstrong
(the White Russian ex-convict Peter Afanassieff) and German
publishers of anti-Semitic literature.]
The White Russians and the Nazi agents then decided to start a
publishing business as the first step to attract followers. They
issued a paper called the _Gentile Front_. They were extremely
careful to keep the editorial and publication addresses secret. All
mail was sent only to Post Office Box No. 526 in the old Chicago Post
Office. The company was named the Patriotic Publishing Co. and with
the utmost secrecy editorial offices were established at 5 S. Wabash
in Chicago and the paper printed in the basement at 4233 N. Kildare
where the Merrimac Press functioned.
Subsequently, to throw anyone who might be watching them off the
trail, they changed the name of the publishing company to the Right
Cause Publishing Co. and issued an avalanche of Nazi propaganda. It
was through this secretly organized and secretly functioning
propaganda center that Harry A. Jung, ultra-"patriot," distributed
printed attacks on Roosevelt just before the Presidential election.
The _American Gentile_, backed by Nazi money, published the most
insane rantings imaginable. But when one is inclined to dismiss them
as insanity, one remembers that it was the same sort of stuff Hitler
used in winning millions of bewildered Germans to his banner. The
pre-election issue (October, 1936) of the _Gentile_ will serve as an
illustration of what they published and distributed through the United
States mails:
Former Congressman Louis T. McFadden[11] died on October 1 from a
stroke. He was sixty years old. The _American Gentile_, however,
implied that he had been murdered by Jews; Senator Bronson Cutting
(killed in an airplane crash) also was murdered by Jews. Huey Long was
murdered by Jews. Walter A. Liggett, the newspaper editor, was
murdered by Jews, and it was an international ring of Jewish bankers
who hired Booth to murder Abraham Lincoln.
Of course it was crazy, but the coal digger in Kentucky or the
bedeviled farmer in the Middle West who couldn't pay his taxes or the
unemployed worker in an industrial center who couldn't find a job did
not know history any too well nor understand the workings of the
economic system; and when they were told by newspapers brought to them
by the United States Government mails that their economic difficulties
were due to a Jewish-Communist plot, that Roosevelt was a Jew and was
controlled by Jews and Communists, some of them were prone to believe
it. With this irresponsible propaganda anti-semitism grew. Men and
women were attracted to the Nazi web without dreaming of the forces
disseminating the propaganda of the motives behind them.
The most capable of those drawn into the Nazi propaganda machine were
chosen for more serious work. Some were used for propaganda; others
were given definite espionage assignments. The espionage and
propaganda divisions of the Nazi machine in this country are separate
bodies. They overlap only in serving as a recruiting ground.
The smuggling of anti-democratic propaganda off Nazi ships entering
American ports was exposed by the McCormick Congressional Committee,
but it stopped only for a brief period. The Nazi ships which bring in
propaganda also bring secret instructions to agents here and take back
their reports. To eliminate tell-tale evidence, Dr. George Gyssling,
Nazi Consul in Los Angeles, has paid out cash to leaders of the German
propaganda machine on the West Coast. Affidavits to this effect are in
my possession.
The headquarters for the West Coast propaganda machine which dabbles a
little in espionage, is the _Deutsches Haus_, 634 W. 15th Street, Los
Angeles. The building is supposed to be merely a meeting place for
German-Americans and sympathizers of the Hitler regime. Actually its
functions are far more sinister.
The _Deutsches Haus_, before it was turned into a center of Nazi
activity, had been a typical Los Angeles home. When the Nazis took it
over, they ripped out several of the front rooms and turned it into a
barn-like affair with a skylight overhead and a raised platform from
which speakers sing the praises of Hitler and fascism. In the rear
part of the hall is a combined bar and restaurant where the
German-Americans drink their beer and whiskies and plot the smuggling
of propaganda from Nazi ships and the carrying on of espionage against
American military and naval forces.
I use the word "plot" for precisely what it means. From this house,
naturalized American citizens and native Americans direct espionage
and propaganda activities paid for by a foreign government and
designed against the peace and security of the United States.
The leader of this group, Hermann Schwinn, was appointed by Minister
of Propaganda Goebbels in Germany and is the recipient of personal
letters of praise from Adolf Hitler for his work. Schwinn is a
naturalized citizen,[12] a comparatively young man in his early
thirties, ruddy-faced and with a thin, quivering mustache on his upper
lip. This little Fuehrer's office is just off the meeting hall and
adjoins the small bookstore where the purchaser can get pamphlets,
books, and newspapers attacking democracy.
When I called upon Schwinn at the Nazi headquarters and introduced
myself, he smiled amiably and granted my request for an interview. The
German-American Bund, he explained immediately (the reorganized
Friends of the New Germany), is now a patriotic organization,
consisting only of American citizens.
The German-American Bund, Schwinn continued as we seated ourselves in
his office, was now a "patriotic organization striving to create among
Americans a better understanding of Nazi Germany, to combat anti-Nazi
propaganda and the boycott against Germany, and to fight Communism."
He took about ten minutes to explain their peaceful objectives and
their great love for the United States.
"Everything is America for the Americans and to fight all alien
theories and interests?" I asked, summing up his explanation.
"That's right," he beamed.
"Does any propaganda come from Germany to help save America for the
Americans?"
"No, sir!" he said. "We have nothing to do with Germany; we are
Americans first. Mr. Dickstein[13] says that there is propaganda
coming, but he was never able to prove any of his statements."
"Then how does propaganda like _World Service_ from Erfurt, Germany,
get into this country?"
"Oh, I get it," he said casually. "Anyone can subscribe to it for a
dollar and a half a year. We get two or three copies around here--by
subscription, of course."
"There must be a lot of subscribers in the United States for I've seen
a great many copies. I thought that perhaps it comes in batches from
Germany for distribution here so members of the Nazi groups in the
United States could use it to help save America for the Americans."
"No," he smiled. "It's all a subscription matter."
"I see. Do you know Captain George Trauernicht?"
Schwinn shot a startled glance at me and nodded slowly. "Yes," he
said, "he's Captain of the Hapag Line ship 'Oakland.'"
"Do you ever visit him?"
"Yes; he was here last week."
"Doesn't he bring batches of _World Service_ and other propaganda for
you every time he comes into port?"
"No," Schwinn said sharply. "The visits I pay him are purely social.
Just to drink a glass of good German beer."
"Do you usually pay social visits carrying a brief case?"
"Now, wait a minute," he protested. "Don't write down the answer until
I think."
I stopped typing on his office machine which he had permitted me to
use to take verbatim notes of the interview and waited while he
thought. After a lengthy silence I added:
"You had a brief case on Thursday when you visited him."
He continued thinking for a little longer and then said that he
thought he had had a brief case on that trip.
"But why do you ask me that?" he demanded. "There was nothing in that
brief case."
"Sure there was. The brief case always contains reports you send back
to Germany and instructions from Germany are brought to you by Captain
Trauernicht as well as other captains of German ships docking here and
in San Diego."
"I have never taken off propaganda nor given nor received reports,"
Schwinn insisted. "Somebody told you something and you've got it all
wrong."
"Suppose I mention a few instances. At four o'clock on Monday
afternoon, March 9, 1936, your beer-drinking friend, Captain
Trauernicht, waited for you at the gangplank of his boat--for your
'social' visit. What he wanted was the package of sealed reports from
Nazi agents throughout the United States which you were bringing in
your brief case. In due time you arrived and gave him the reports.
Then you started on a drinking spree--"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Schwinn interrupted.
"Maybe I can refresh your memory. That was the evening the Captain
took a lady from Beverly Hills, to the first mate's cabin--remember?
You know, the lady who lives on North Crescent Drive--shall I mention
her name?"
Schwinn's face turned an apoplectic red and he became quiet.
"On Monday, February 10, 1936," I continued. "Reinhold Kusche, leader
of the O.D. unit in your organization and a 'patriotic' naturalized
American citizen, was on board the steamer 'Elbe' docked in Los
Angeles harbor. He telephoned to one of your Nazi agents, Albert
Voigt, that the Captain was sailing at five o'clock for Antwerp and
was furious because the agents' reports had not yet been delivered to
him. Kusche told Voigt to bring the reports in a hurry--which Voigt
promptly did.
"On Tuesday evening, May 12, 1936, the Captain of the Nazi ship
'Schwaben', which had just arrived from Antwerp, Belgium, came to your
office and handed you a sealed package of orders and propaganda. He
laid it on your desk in this room. The package contained copies of
_World Service_--which is obtainable, you remember, only by
subscription at a dollar and a half a year."
"It is not true--" Schwinn interrupted excitedly.
"I have a copy from the batch he brought to you. But let's continue.
On Monday, June 8, 1936, you yourself went to the Nazi ship 'Weser'
and gave the captain secret reports to take back to Germany and left
with secret orders he had brought over--orders sealed in brown, manila
paper[14]--and a large package of _Fichte-Bund_ propaganda. I have a
copy from that batch, too."
Schwinn stared at me and then smiled. "You can't prove anything," he
said with assurance.
"I have affidavits about all these items and more--affidavits from men
on board the Nazi ships."
"It's impossible!" he exclaimed. "No German on the ship would dare to
sign an affidavit!"
"But I have them," I repeated.
"You intend to publish them?" he asked, a cunning look appearing in
his eyes.
His eagerness to discover who had given me affidavits was funny and I
laughed. "I'll publish the information contained in them," I
explained. "The names of the signers will be given only to an American
governmental or judicial body which may look into your 'patriotic'
activities. But let's get on. Do you know the Nazi Consul in Los
Angeles--Dr. George Gyssling?"
He sat silently for a moment as if hesitating whether to speak.
"Don't be afraid to talk," I said. "The Consul isn't. You know, of
course, that he does not like you?"
A deep red flush suffused his face. "It's mutual!" he said. "I know he
talks--"
Throughout the interview Schwinn tried almost pathetically, despite
his obvious dislike of Gyssling, to cover up the Consul's interference
in American affairs. When I told Schwinn I had affidavits showing that
Rafael Demmler, President of the Steuben Society of Los Angeles, got
two hundred dollars in April, 1936, from the Nazi Consul to help
maintain the _Deutsches Haus_ as a center of Nazi propaganda, he shook
his head bewilderedly; and when I pointed out that he himself got one
hundred and forty-five dollars in cash from the Nazi Consul on
Tuesday, April 28, 1936, to cover expenses incurred by Schwinn in the
effort to bring the German-American groups together for the better
dissemination of Nazi propaganda, his face turned alternately white
and red and finally he exploded:
"Did Gyssling tell you that?"
"I'm not saying who told it to me. But let's get on with some of your
other 'patriotic' activities. On Thursday, June 18, 1936, you visited
Captain Trauernicht in company with Count von Buelow--"
For the first time since the interview began Schwinn sat upright in
his chair as if I had struck him. All the other subjects had left him
slightly disturbed but still with an obvious sense that he was not on
particularly dangerous ground. But at the mention of Von Buelow's name
a look of actual fear spread over his face.
"On that day," I continued, "you and the Count went directly to the
Captain's cabin where you handed over your reports--"
"What are you getting at?" Schwinn demanded sharply.
"I'm getting at the Count. What do you know about him?"
"Nothing. I know nothing about him. I've met him, that's all."
"Have you ever visited his home at Point Loma,[15] San Diego?"
Schwinn stared at me without answering.
"Have you ever been there?" I repeated.
"Yes," he said slowly.
"Did you ever observe how, through his study windows, you could see
almost everything going on at the American naval base--"
"I have nothing to say," Schwinn interrupted excitedly.
Among the men sent here directly by Rudolf Hess, Hitler's right-hand
man, is a former German-American businessman named Meyerhofer. This
Nazi came here with special instructions from Hess, a personal friend
of his, to reorganize the Nazi machine in the United States. He
arrived early in 1935 posing as a businessman. After consultations
with Nazi leaders in New York, including the Nazi Consul General, he
went to Detroit to confer with Fritz Kuhn,[16] national head of the
German-American Bund. From Detroit he went to Chicago where he held
more conferences with Nazi agents and then went directly to Los
Angeles for conferences with Schwinn, Von Buelow and other secret
agents operating in the United States. Meyerhofer's mission was not
only to reorganize the propaganda machine but to try to place it on a
self-supporting basis so that in the event of war when funds from
Germany would be cut off, an efficient Nazi machine could continue
functioning.
It was with this knowledge in mind that I asked Schwinn what he knew
about Meyerhofer. At the mention of his name the Nazi leader for the
West Coast again showed a flash of fear. He hesitated a little longer
than usual and then said in a low voice, "He is a member of our
organization. He came from Germany about thirty or forty years ago."
Suddenly he added, "He's an American citizen."
"I know he's an American citizen. But are you sure he didn't come from
Germany--on his latest trip--in January of last year?"
Schwinn smiled a little wryly. "He might have," he said in the same
low tone.
"He's a personal friend of Rudolf Hess--"
"Listen!" Schwinn exclaimed. "You're on the wrong track!"
"Maybe; but what's his business here?"
"He's a businessman!"
"What's his business?"
Schwinn shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said and then with
growing excitement, "I tell you you're on the wrong track!"
"Then what are you so excited about?"
"Because you're on the wrong track--"
"Okay. I'm on the wrong track and you know nothing about Nazi spies.
Do you know of the visits paid by the Japanese Consul in Los Angeles
to Nazi ships when they come into port and of his conferences with
Nazi captains--"
"The Japanese! We have nothing to do with the Japanese. We are a
patriotic group--"
"Yes, I know. What do you know about Schneeberger?"
Schwinn answered with an "M-m-m-m." His jaw bones showed against the
ruddy flesh of his cheeks. He stared up at the ceiling. "He was a
Tyrolian peasant boy," he said without looking at me. "A boy
traveling around the world; you know, just chiseling his way around--"
"Just a bum, eh?"
"That's it," he agreed quickly. "Just a bum."
"What would your connections be with bums? Do you usually associate
with Tyrolian bums who are chiseling their way around the world?"
"Oh, he just came here like so many other people. He wanted money; so
I gave him a little help and he went to San Francisco and Oakland. He
vanished. I haven't any idea where he might be now. Maybe he's in
Chicago now."
"He couldn't possibly be in Japan now, could he?"
"He spoke of going to Japan," Schwinn admitted.
"You saw him off on a Japanese training ship which the Japanese
Government sent here from the Canal Zone, didn't you?"
"I don't know," he said defiantly. "I know nothing about him."
"The treaty between Japan and Germany providing for exchange of
information about Communists was signed November 25, 1936. But in
September, 1936, Schneeberger told you he was leaving on a Japanese
training ship for Japan. No training ship was expected on the West
Coast at that time by the United States port authorities, and yet a
Japanese training ship appeared--ordered here from the Canal Zone. It
was on this ship that Schneeberger left. Apparently, then, the Nazis
and the Japanese had already been working together--and you were
cooperating because you took Schneeberger around. You took him to
Count von Buelow's home at Point Loma, overlooking the American naval
base. You know that Schneeberger was not broke because he was spending
money freely--"
"He was broke," Schwinn interrupted weakly.
"If he was so broke, how do you account for his carrying around an
expensive camera and always having plenty of film with which to
photograph American naval and military spots?"
"I don't know. Maybe he carried the camera around to hock in case he
went broke."
The absurdity of the excuse was so patent that I laughed. Schwinn
smiled a little.
"All right. What do you know about a man named Maeder?"
Again that long, drawn-out "M-m-m-m." A long pause and Schwinn said,
"Maeder is an American citizen, I believe."
"Yes; you are, too. But what's his business in this country?"
"I don't know," Schwinn said helplessly. "I really don't know."
"You know nothing about his activities or observations of American
naval and military bases? Do you usually take in members without
knowing anything about them?"
"Sometimes we do and sometimes we do not--"
"But orders were sent from Germany to make this an American
organization--"
Schwinn nodded without admitting it verbally.
"And since you throw out all Germans who are not American citizens,
you check with the Consul General in New York as to whether they are
fit--"
"We have nothing to do with the Consul General--"
"What happened to Willi Sachse who used to be a member here?"
"He is supposed to have gone back to Germany."
"Have you heard from him from Germany?"
"No; I haven't heard since he left."
"You received a letter recently from him from San Francisco where he
is watching foreign vessels--"
"Oh," said Schwinn, raising his hands in a helpless gesture, "I know
you have spies in my organization."
We talked a little longer--of visits he made to Nazi agents in the
Middle West and in New York, of secret conferences with propagandists
and spies. But he refused to do any more than shrug his shoulders at
all new questions.
"I have said too much already," he said.
FOOTNOTES:
[10] Gissibl left for Stuttgart, Germany, and leadership was taken over
by his brother, Peter.