Subject: Professor Koch

born: June 23, 1907

corporal of medical service in the Air Force

Interviewer: Franjo Hülck

Mr Koch: Some people ask me how did you come to terms with it? How did you cope with being in the war? My answer is that I more or less quite quickly came to see it as my duty to dedicate myself, to apply myself to the task as best I could because, after all, we had been brought up in a patriotic tradition. This had already started when we were young, I remember it all very clearly. The motto on the stands of the "Sportclub Münster" read "Pro patrie est drum ludere videmur", i. e. "While we are playing, we are doing something for our country too". Among the members of the "Sportklub Münster" there was quite a number of soldiers at the time, some of them in leading positions, for example, the former Captain von Reichenau. He was a good soccer player, a good athlete, he knew how to throw shotput and discus and he taught us a lot of technical tricks in sports. Actually this didn't change throughout our school career, we took an interest in Germany's colonies and often discussed the topic. We talked about "Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika" (now Namibia, translator) and, naturally, were members of the VDA, the Association for German Culture Abroad. The director at that time, the grammar school teacher Dr Humborg, was a relative of mine. So we had practically all been brought up in a nationalist way, and that didn't change when I joined the navy. The former "Imperial Navy" still kept to traditions that went back to Emperor Wilhelm II, and some of the older officers had even served during that time. This had considerable impact on the style that was cultivated. You were proud of the victories the navy won. On the other hand, it was obvious that such German efficiency, importance and strength did not exactly ingratiate the country with the neighbouring nations. The English, for example, were very much anti Emperor Wilhelm II because he was building up a naval force. Britannia still ruled the seas at the time. The French didn't exactly love us either during that period. They gave greater priority to their own national interest. At that time, in order to take up naval aviation, it was necessary to obtain a sailing certificate first, the one for coastal shipping. Training took place simultaneously. You started by completing your sailing certificate and then proceeded to taking engines apart, setting and drying the floats and so on. Anyhow, we had to start from scratch which certainly didn't do us any harm. After the flight training in Warnemünde I came into contact with naval officers who also received pilot training. Those were ten naval officers, an engineering officer and three Chinese lieutenants, and another group of five, six, seven, eight people who had already trained as pilots in Russia, secretly. All of a sudden we were billeted in a sort of beach hotel, which we later referred to as the "bulls' monastery", because we weren't allowed to speak to anyone, but had to keep to ourselves. We weren't allowed to ask a girl to dance or anything. While we stayed there we received pilot and naval training. And this went on and on, until I wanted to rejoin the navy and was told: "Mr Koch, we can no longer keep you in the navy, because Göring, who now has the say in Berlin, requests that all members of the navy who have some flying experience be transferred to the air force." That didn't suit me at all and I was extremely angry, for the simple reason that I had trained with the navy and, in 1935, was supposed to go abroad on board the "Königsberg " as a ship's doctor. To this end I had learnt how to perform appendectomies, surgery in case of hernia and tooth extraction. Those were the prerequisites at the time. I completed courses for this purpose and all the requirements were met. In addition, I had taken English classes with the navy. Under Hitler officers were required to take part in courses and continuing education. At that time I said, "Fair enough, if languages are taught, the easiest option is English." I always liked English and was quite good at it. While I was with the navy I obtained my diploma as an interpreter for English. That was why I had been chosen for this cruiser which was to go abroad (the "Königsberg"). What is more, I also spoke Spanish. During the final two years at school I had Spanish classes on a voluntary basis. This meant that on Tuesdays and Fridays we were taught half an hour or 45 minutes of Spanish before the regular classes started. On my school leaving certificate I got a good mark in Spanish. All in all the conditions for becoming a ship's doctor on board the "Königsberg" were more than met. It didn't work out this way, though. I had to take off the beautiful blue uniform and change it for the grey-blue one. Yet somehow they conceded: "Mr Koch, we are aware that we put you under considerable pressure and probably did not respect your wishes, but we were unable to do so in your case:" The most senior medical officer with the air force with whom I had dealings told me: "Mr Koch, by way of compensation you are free to choose where you would like to serve with the air force." I replied: "I would like to join a unit where I can keep flying," and this decision shaped my experience throughout the war. That is, after the campaign against France ended. We had many casualties there in the years 1940 and 1941 because the squadrons flying across to England were very successful to begin with. But this changed when the English cracked the German radar system. Many German pilots were caught by the English interceptors at that time, because their spies had uncovered everything and they knew when and where the German troops were going to attack. Later, I was in Paris-Sèvres because the Fourth Flying Corps which I commanded and served in as a doctor was stationed there. They had a small chateau there in Sèvres which is known for its porcelain manufacture. Apparently the castle also housed a music school and there were musical instruments hanging on the walls and everywhere. This was where we were stationed as the Fourth Flying Corps, but we had an advance party on the coast, and this advance party did not only observe the enemy, but also dealt with the numerous casualties we suffered there. I often think about my commander, General Pflugbeil, who was very, very considerate with the flying units. I had to see to it that the soldiers weren't on duty all the time, but could take time off and were sent home now and then. Especially those who had applied themselves to their task in such a way as to lose control. Some of them obviously took to drinking and there were many in those units who wanted to enjoy life a bit. They went into bars on the coast and many fell prey to the charms of foreign girls who were spies. Many a secret was disclosed unintentionally. With what was happening on the coast and casualties being so high, it was always the best men who died because only the bravest confronted the situation and kept on flying in the face of it all. So many excellent pilots were killed under those circumstances. As doctors and, even more so, as medical officers with those units it was often our task to inform the relatives and friends. That was a very hard task during the air raids against England. But the Fourth Flying Corps was once again transferred from France to the East.

Interviewer: Where and when were you injured?

Mr Koch: We then moved ahead into Russian territory, and as a member of the Fourth Flying Corps I was in charge of four air force medical emergency corps, that is, a military hospital on wheels. They were equipped with everything necessary to either set up a large military hospital with tents or to take over some military or other hospital. This was why one of those troops of ambulance vehicles was among the first to invade Kischinjof, for example, and requisitioned that school of engineering for the corps where we were housed as staff officers. Then the four military hospitals on wheels followed. It was my task to equip all the aircrafts, which in turn supplied the troops and the flying units with ammunition and fuel. I also saw to it that the "Junkers" (type of aircraft - translator) which were constantly landing there on some field airstrips close to the front were loaded with wounded soldiers. I had detached medical orderlies from my air force hospitals to find the wounded soldiers and put them on to the empty aircrafts. So thousands of wounded soldiers were evacuated by simply putting them aboard the "Junkers" which would otherwise have flown back empty. Sometimes we equipped the aircrafts with ropes and tows and stretchers so we could transport those who couldn't stand or sit. There were always some of them waiting at the field airstrips. Since I was General Pflugbeil's staff I usually knew what had been planned. He always told me where the "Junkers" were flying with their supplies and which units would benefit etc.

Because I was so closely involved I knew exactly what was going on. My medical units were informed as to where casualties were likely to occur so that they could be evacuated. I constantly stepped up my activities until the chief medical officer of the Sixth Army tried to stop me from taking out any more wounded soldiers because the tank lorries (ist ‘Sankkraftwagen’ ein Kürzel für Sanitäts-Kraftwagen??) were beginning to run empty. But my commander, General Pflugbeil, intervened: "Mr Koch, you do whatever you consider appropriate. He isn't your commander, I will take responsibility, and not General 'what's-his-name'. We had a lot of conflicts there, because sometimes the vehicles couldn’t pass through all the mud, they simply didn't get through amidst all the troops that kept flowing forwards and backwards. This went as far as Stalingrad, but there it all came to an end. Right up to Stalingrad we still managed to evacuate a lot of wounded soldiers. I was also responsible for the sector stretching from Kiev right down to the Crimea, which was the territory of the Sixth Army. I was supposed to set up an air force military hospital for the air space in Simperopol on the Crimea. It was a recovery centre, more or less, where soldiers from the signal, the anti-aircraft batallions or the flying units could be sent to recover without moving too far from the front.

As far as the transport of injured soldiers is concerned, I brought out the severely wounded on board a "Fieseler Storch", whenever necessary. This was an air ambulance painted white with red crosses. Several times I had to come as close as three kilometres to the front to take people on board there. There wasn't space for more than one and a half people on the flight back. I was alone in the cockpit and then there was space for one lying down and one seated. But there had been so many casualties near Stalingrad. I used to take off from Kiev or - what was it called again - anyway one of the field airstrips to pick up the wounded, but then I said: "This is no good, you have to go there with a "Junker", otherwise there will be too many left behind". In spite of the bad weather and the poor conditions I plucked up my courage. I didn't have permission, after all. I wasn't allowed to go that far with an air ambulance but I told myself, "You have to go there because you are needed". So I went there with another pilot and loaded the "Junkers" with wounded soldiers on an airstrip near Woltschansk. We went there six times with the air ambulance and flew back heavily loaded. The seventh time there were pine trees there but I said: "Those are the bombs they dropped, but there aren't any over there, thank God, they have already been there. This means that we don't run any risk if we go there now." To land we had to take a turn and come back to the airstrip from behind because of the westerly winds. Suddenly two "ratas" [??? Keine Ahnung!] came close and hit us from behind as we were approaching to land. They fired at the engines and two projectiles went right through the aircraft. Splinters were everywhere, the chief pilot was sitting on the left hand side and a bullet grazed his head, and the skin was hanging down in strips. I was hit by splinters on the arm, in the eye and on my whole face. Then we landed there with two medical orderlies sitting in the back who were supposed to help us load the plane, and I yelled at them to get out. We landed there but the "ratas" took a U-turn and came back. At a distance of about ten, twenty or thirty metres I saw a water ditch. We jumped in and ducked our heads with the water coming up to our chins, and they dropped [fünfziger???] bombs on us. Well, the aircraft was completely wrecked, and because of our injuries all we could do was drag ourselves to the nearest field dressing station which was about 500 metres away. We staggered there and I received a tetanus injection. They asked me: "Were you ever given a tetanus injection?" But in all this turmoil and chaos - the surgery was set up underneath a brick wall with a bit of straw by way of a roof - I forgot to answer. That was where we waited to be examined. Those field hospitals are always very primitive. But at least I was able to talk to my staff on the phone from there and they told me: "Mr Koch, we'll come for you at dawn." And they really were there with the "Fieseler Storch" at the crack of dawn when there was still hardly any light and picked me up. And there I was, with bandages still, but I was back on duty. But all of sudden I woke up in the air force military hospital there. Charkow, that’s where it was, not Kiev. There was a woman in a white uniform, white sheets and I asked: "What's going on here?". And the nurse replied: "Please, be quiet. The worst is over, everything is o.k. now." It turned out I had had an allergic reaction to tetanus. But then the Americans arrived, moved in there and all of a sudden they were right on our doorstep. After they had bombarded the military hospital several times on their low level flights from England to Dresden and Leipzig, the kept flying across the air force hospital. We had to get up every single night and go to the basements of the houses. There weren't any air-raid shelters apart from that. Of course we had a fire brigade for the air force military hospital, as it could have been hit by fire brands, and this really happened several times. There were fire brands in the attic of the military hospital which had to be put out. During one of those attacks I was out there as chief medical officer to keep an eye on everything. The air raids had been announced and - bang - you could also hear the bomber groups from England moving towards us. I was thirty or forty metres away from the door when a bomb hit at a distance of about fifty metres away from me. I got a push from behind with such force that I was almost catapulted inside, right through the door. The pressure was so strong and the whole family was hiding in the basement. And then the Americans came and I was still wearing the usual waist belt with the pistol. I received the Americans very politely. Some American captain came and I showed him the military hospital. I showed him my office and he told me he wanted to move in there. I gave him another of the best rooms, but not my consultant's office. On the second day he threw me out of my room and moved in there himself. He had all the charts I kept there removed and burnt. That was one of my major grievances. The work of many years which I had accumulated there to study and evaluate was all gone. The fact that all this was ruined annoyed me more than anything else during the final phase of the war. I had been looking forward to evaluating all the data. Then I was arrested by the Americans, to begin with on remand, in a prison in Halle. I was with a friend of mine, Dr Jobst Schnippke, who had also trained with the naval air force, although for a shorter period than myself. He had also been forced to change over to the air force and had served with the Eighth Flying Corps. Like myself, he ended up in Russia and finally fled to the military hospital where I was working. Now that the whole unit was more or less broken up, they had pinpointed the active soldiers. So we both met again in prison, on custody. We had to put on civilian clothes before we were taken away. And then, one night, the door opened and my friend Jobst came in. I said: "I can’t believe it. Where did you come from?!. "Well, he said, I still had some Coca Cola and chocolate rations left which I gave to the guard." And then he said: "I can lock you both in the same cell for a while." Which the guard did, and so we chatted for about an hour. So, where are we up to now?. We weren’t interrogated there, so we wrote a petition on toilet paper asking to be interrogated. I learned by chance and in a roundabout way, what we were supposed to do, all those prisoners they had taken in the air force military hospital. The plan was to take them away and give them a choice between working in mines in Poland or going to the West. So I said to Jobst: "Let's do everything to avoid being sent to the East, if anything, then to the West. But all of a sudden we were evacuated and, without being interrogated, found ourselves on trucks. We were packed like sardines and could hardly move because the truck was so full. We were then taken to the meadows of the Fulda River near Bad Hersfeld where they informed us: "Everybody from the rank of major upward will have to go to the camp for political prisoners, that is the Camp what's-its-name." I said: "We had better not go there. After all my rank at that time was senior medical officer. And then I asked: "What shall we do now?". You remember that I spoke English. So I said: "Listen, Jobst, let's volunteer for the Red Cross. I'll organise the whole thing." When I got to the first guard I said: "Hello, I am a doctor, were supposed to report for work with the Red Cross." "Go on this way, doctor", and he gestured towards the Red Cross Tent set up amidst those four or five thousand prisoners who had been assigned to different camps according to their political past etc. Unlike my friend who somehow got lost on the way, I arrived at the Red Cross Tent. He hadn't yet become a senior medical officer, anyway. Many of the prisoners in the camp I was sent to still knew me from during the war and they said: "You know, Mr Koch, you speak English. How about taking on the responsibilities of camp doctor and negotiating with the Americans. There aren't any latrines here, no toilet facilities at all. People somehow try to do their business close to the fence here, but then the Americans, the black soldiers fire right among them with their machine guns. Every night there are new casualties and we have don't have any dressing material, nothing at all. All we have is the Red Cross Tent where a couple of particularly severely wounded prisoners are being treated, there's nothing else we can do." And so I saw to it ........., I spoke with the Americans and told them: "First of all, we have to build latrines here. We don't have any shovels, or timber, or planks, nothing at all to accomplish such a thing." After we had discussed for a while what to do he promised to try and get hold of the building materials. Two days later a truck loaded with planks and shovels arrived and so we started off by building latrines in the various camps, in the tents where as many as 4.500 people dwelt. The worst thing was that the weather was so hot and dry. Quite a lot of people had sunstrokes, others suffered either from diarrhoea or were constipated. And then there were all those people with their heavy, stinking bandages which hadn't been changed for weeks because there wasn't any bandages available. I tried to think of what to do and finally complained to the Americans. "We don't have anything, either", they told me. "Do you know where to get some?" I told them: "I know where to get bandages - at the air force military hospital in Halle Döslau." "Are you sure?" In the end I was actually given command of some American soldiers, an ambulance and machine guns and was allowed to go there to get bandages. But first of all, the following thing happened: When I arrived the nurses all came running: "The boss is back again. "A big crowd was gathered in front of the door and then the Americans came and fired a few shots to make space for them. I said: "Don't worry, I can talk to my wife in English so that you can listen to everything I've got to say. All I said to her was: "Please, be so kind as to get out my leather coat and a pair of heavy shoes, a pair of climbing boots I can wear in the camp there. There's so much mud and dirt you can't really walk there with your Sunday shoes, everything is broken there. The other thing I would like is a big medical book." She did as I said and I wrote her a note about what else I wanted and somehow it all worked out. An American captain of the medical corps, a Jew, came along with this group, and he was very friendly to us. I told him that my family was still living there and also mentioned that I ought to go and see them some time. They were staying in one of the small houses for civil servants at the entrance of the military hospital. I dropped him there and he said he didn't have to come in with me. He told me to see how I would cope. Afterwards he mentioned that I still had a radio there and wanted to know if I was very attached to it. I told him he could have it, but I was very scared the whole time because I had been hiding a pistol there for my family. I told my wife: "In case they do you any harm, you know where the pistol is. Just shoot him down, no matter how!" The gun was hidden somewhere in the linen cupboard beneath the sheets. After I had been home the Americans had really searched my house, but now they were looking for alcohol. I said I wasn't sure, but didn't think we had any alcohol left. As it was, we had hidden all the bottles in the coal cellar beneath the coal. They really looked in there, but only found the water and juice bottles that were plainly visible. Nevertheless they turned everything upside down in the house. All the cupboards were emptied out, but they didn't find the pistol of all things. I told myself that if they had I would have been arrested and they would have taken me away. After all, it was strictly forbidden to own weapons or have them in the house. So I drove back and at least I now had some bandages and some drugs and so on, but not all that much and when I came back they said: "Well, Mr Koch, this is all very nice, but what else can we do?". I replied: "I can't help either, I can't think of anything else I could do." Suddenly I was asked by the commandant of the camp to help them trace politicians or Nazis in the camp there. I said: "I haven't got a clue, you can't honestly ask me to do that. I don't know anybody." Anyhow, shortly afterwards the Americans suggested: "Mr Koch, they're short of doctors in the reserve military hospitals here around Bad Hersfeld. All the doctors have run away. There are two more camps here, a Russian and a Polish one at the district hospital in Bad Hersfeld, and they don't have a doctor either. They urgently need someone specialised in internal medicine. Perhaps you could choose someone from among your doctors who would be willing to go there. I said: "You know what? I'm the one who will go there." In this way I got out of the camp and ended up at the district hospital in Bad Hersfeld.