Salt mines and castles: The discovery and restitution of looted European art

by Thomas Carr Howe

The Rijksmuseum was holding a magnificent exhibition, appropriately entitled “The Return of the Old Masters.” Among the one hundred and forty masterpieces, which had been stored in underground shelters for the past five years, were six Vermeers, nine paintings by Frans Hals, and seventeen Rembrandts, including the famous Night Watch.

That evening Phonse took Cassidy and me to the country place occupied by the officers of the C.G.R. It was called “Oud Bussum” and was near Naarden, about fifteen miles from Amsterdam. The luxurious house had been the property of a well known Dutch collaborator. Many high-ranking Nazis had been entertained there. As a mark of special favor I was given the suite which had been used by Göring.

At dinner I sat between Colonel W. C. Posthumus-Meyjes, Chief of the Restitution Commission, and Phonse Vorenkamp. The colonel, to the regret of his associates, was soon to relinquish his duties in order to accept an important diplomatic post in Canada. Toward the end of the meal, Phonse asked me how I had made out with the ambassador. I gave a noncommittal reply. He looked at me shrewdly through his steel-rimmed spectacles and said, “We would not expect your ambassador to arrange a ceremony. That is for us to do. It is for us to express our gratitude to General Eisenhower.”

(Phonse was as good as his word. A few weeks later, officials of the Netherlands Government arranged a luncheon in one of the rooms of the Rijksmuseum. It was the first affair of its kind in the history of the museum. Only the simplest food was served, but the table was set with rare old silver, porcelain and glass. Colonel Kluss and Bancel represented USFET Headquarters. I was told that no one enjoyed himself more than the American ambassador.)

The next morning Phonse suggested that I return with him in the plane. He had it entirely to himself except for the empty packing cases which he was taking back to Munich. He said that the slight detour to Frankfurt could be easily arranged. So I sent Cassidy back in the jeep and at noon Phonse and I—sole occupants of the C-47 which had been chartered in the name of General Eisenhower—took off from Schiphol Airport. An hour and twenty minutes later we landed at Frankfurt.

Before the end of October, a token restitution was made to Czechoslovakia. The objects chosen were the famous fourteenth century Hohenfurth altarpiece and the collections of the Army Museum at Prague. Both had been stolen by the Nazis. The altarpiece, evacuated from the Alt Aussee mine, was now at the Central Collecting Point in Munich. The Army Museum collections were stored at Schloss Banz, near Bamberg. Lieutenant Colonel František Vrečko and Captain Egon Suk, as representatives of the Czech Government, were invited to USFET Headquarters. We arranged for them to proceed from there to Schloss Banz, where they were met by Lieutenant Walter Horn. I have mentioned Horn before as the Monuments officer whose remarkable sleuthing resulted in recovery of the five pieces of the coronation regalia at Nürnberg. While the Czech officers were en route, we directed Captain Rae at Third Army to arrange for the delivery of the Hohenfurth panels to Schloss Banz. Captain Rae, in turn, designated Lieutenant Commander Coulter to transport them from Munich. (Both Ham Coulter and I had received our additional half-stripe earlier in the month.) This joint operation was carried out successfully and, in succeeding months, restitution to Czechoslovakia became a matter of routine shipments at regular intervals.

Also before the end of October, we became involved again in the complicated problem of the Veit Stoss altarpiece. Major Charles Estreicher was selected as the Polish representative. The major spent several days at our office in Höchst studying our files for additional data on Polish loot in the American Zone before continuing to Munich and Nürnberg. Because of the condition of the roads, the actual return of the altarpiece as a token restitution to Poland was delayed until the early spring.

While we were in the midst of these negotiations Bancel conferred with Colonel Hayden Smith at USFET headquarters in Frankfurt on the subject of the proposed removal of German-owned works of art to the United States. Colonel Smith was Chief of Staff to Major General C. L. Adcock, Deputy Director of the office of military government, U. S. Zone. Bancel impressed upon the colonel the practical difficulties involved and stressed the technical, not the moral objections to shipping valuable works of art to America. As a result of this conference the colonel asked Bancel to prepare a memorandum on the subject for submission to his chief.

The finished memorandum which Edith and I helped Bancel prepare followed the general pattern of a staff study—a statement of the “problem” with specific suggestions relating to its solution. It contained an eloquent plea for the importation of additional MFA&A personnel to assume responsibility for the project and called attention to acute shortages in packing materials and transportation facilities. It also pointed out that the advisability of moving fragile objects across the ocean would be balanced against the advantages of leaving them in the Central Collecting Points, all three of which had been made weatherproof months before and were now provided with sufficient coal to prevent deterioration of the objects during the winter months.

Nothing came of our recommendations. Within two weeks, Colonel Harry McBride, administrator of the National Gallery in Washington, arrived in Berlin to expedite the first shipment. He flew down to Frankfurt two days later to discuss ways and means with Major La Farge. We learned from him that General Clay’s recommendation for immediate removal had been approved by the highest national authority. The General was now in Washington. The futility of protest was obvious. Bancel told the colonel that our Monuments officers were strongly opposed to the project. He said that some of them might request transfer rather than comply with the order. The colonel replied that such requests would, in all probability, be refused. The only other alternative—open defiance of the order—could have but one consequence, a court-martial. And, assuming that our officers elected to face court-martial, what would be gained? Nothing, according to the colonel; the order would still be carried out. If trained MFA&A personnel were not available, then the work would have to be done by such officers and men as might be obtainable, experienced or not. Bancel realized that his primary duty was the “protection and salvage” of art works. If he deliberately left them at the mercy of whatever troops might be available to do the packing, then he would be guilty of dereliction of duty. This interpretation afforded him some consolation.