By the end of May 1945, more enemy prisoners were sitting out the Second World War in Texas than any state in the Union. One out of every ten German, Italian and Japanese captives shipped to the United States for safekeeping wound up somewhere between the Red River and the Rio Grande.
For reasons of cost as well as security, U.S. officials decided in the months after Pearl Harbor to hold all Axis prisoners of war on American soil. A network of hurriedly constructed camps soon reached every corner of the country giving 44 of the 48 states at least one POW facility. But Texas, with 33 camps that accommodated 45,000 involuntary “guests,” led the pack.
The largest Lone Star installation was located near Mexia, where Germans taken in North Africa began to arrive by the trainload in early 1943. Although the destination of these survivors of Rommel’s Afrika Korps was a military secret, their sudden appearance in Central Texas did not go unnoticed. The sight of hundreds of downcast Nazis naturally attracted the attention of curious locals, who could spot a strange face in town a block away.
While a capacity of 5,800 ranked Mexia first in size, other Texas camps were not far behind. Hearne, Huntsville, Camp Hood in Bell County and Camp Maxey outside Paris also housed several thousand of the vanquished.
Fearing the worst, the defeated Germans were genuinely surprised by the humane treatment. Not only were the barracks spic-and-span, but the food was so plentiful and nutritious that inmates urged relatives in war-torn Europe to stop sending parcels in order to supplement their diet.
When harvest time came in the spring of 1943, rice and cotton farmers were desperately short-handed. In response to the civilian appeal, the military agreed to hire out 35,000 POWs to meet the manpower emergency in 29 Texas counties. Prisoners worked strictly on a volunteer basis and were compensated for their labor at the rate of 25 cents an hour.
At first the haughty Germans balked at picking cotton, insisting such menial toil was beneath them. As a disgusted farmer put it, the Teutonic warriors “didn’t know a stalk of cotton from a cockleburr” and were not interested in learning. But the bored POWs soon got with the program choosing the comparative freedom of the fields to the monotony of incarceration.
A regulation requiring a minimum of one guard for every ten prisoners assigned to work details was routinely ignored by complacent camp authorities, who pooh-poohed the possibility of escape. Where would the Germans go? It was, after all, a long, long way to Berlin!
This lax attitude filtered down through the ranks and resulted in an almost comical collapse of discipline among the armed overseers. A solitary GI often stood watch over as many as 90 prisoners and even then would slip away for an afternoon siesta. Yet, despite the abundant opportunities, few Germans made a break for it and those that did were usually back in custody by nightfall.
Realizing how much better off they were than those unfortunate comrades who capitulated to the Russians, Germans in the Texas camps generally behaved themselves. Fanatics, who continued to blindly believe in their infallible Fuhrer, were the exception instead of the norm.
A handful of Nazi diehards broke into the officers club at Mexia and clandestinely cranked out inflammatory leaflets on the mimeograph machine. In the next phase of the bizarre plot, the circulars were smuggled out of the camp for distribution in nearby towns. To the disappointment of the naive agitators, the crude propaganda failed to spark the expected uprising in the predominantly German communities.
Public exposure of the cruel mistreatment of American POW’s, especially by the Japanese on the infamous Bataan Death March, provoked charges of coddling of the Axis prisoners. Government spokesmen countered that leniency rather than revenge was far more likely to induce soldiers on the other side to surrender. In the face of this sensible argument, the emotional backlash soon subsided.
After the war, German internees were transported to England on the way to their devastated fatherland. When this temporary layover turned into indefinite detention, a frustrated POW went over the wire and made a beeline for the U.S. embassy where he requested a return ticket to Texas.
Many years later, former prisoners of war returned to the Lone Star State for an improbable reunion. A particularly candid German startled a reporter by saying, “I’ll tell you, pal, if there is ever another war, get on the side that America isn’t and then get captured by the Americans. You’ll have it made.”
“Murder Most Texan” is a must read for fans of true crime and Texas history. Order your copy for $24.00 by mailing a check to Bartee Haile, P.O. Box 130011, Spring, TX 77393.
