by Richard Lucas, $29.95; Casemate Publishers; 320 pages
It is not often that a book can offend me so quickly that I almost don't go further than the preface. But the subject matter of Axis Sally: The American Voice of Nazi Germany interested me enough to move beyond the author's own homophobia, however unintentional. With a book about an anti-Semite convicted of treason, the words speak for themselvesadditional bias is gratuitous.
Axis Sallya tale of one of the most notorious voices of Nazi Germany's World War II-era propaganda radio programmingis, of course, a controversial subject. Mildred Gillars (1900-1988) was one of the primary American voices on Nazi radio, speaking anti-American comments aimed at the American troops and U.S. citizens back home. Gillars was anti-Semitic and an opportunist, in addition to being easily dominated by what she believed was love from certain men.
But author Richard Lucas almost lost me in the first paragraph of his preface: "Insinuating that Franklin Roosevelt was a homosexual surrounded by Jewish 'boyfriends,' her words were jarring and repulsive." OK, Mr. Lucas, what is "repulsive" about homosexuality or Jewish boyfriends? I don't even care whether Roosevelt was gay; that is not the point. Lucas could have just let Gillars' actual anti-gay and anti-Semitic comments stand, without telling us such allegations were "jarring and repulsive." There was much more that was actually repulsive in what Gillars said, so using the unverified existence of homosexual boyfriends as his example really is offensive. [Later in the book we learn of a more direct comment Gillars made on the air in Germany on May 18, 1943: "… I love America but I do not love Roosevelt and all of his 'kike' boyfriends who have thrown us into this awful turmoil."]
I tried not to hold his preface against Lucas while reading the rest of the book. It is a fascinating story of a woman who was so focused on herself and her show business dreams that she was easily convinced to broadcast and work at odds with her own country. When she was tried for treason, she tried to justify herself (and she claimed she had renounced her citizenship), but the author does solid work allowing Gllars' words to speak for themselves when necessary.
Gillars first went to Germany in 1934, well before the United States changed from isolationism to fighting in WWII (and that happened only because Japan attacked Pearl Harbor). So when she left, America was not fighting against Hitler, and she claimed she stayed for love. When most Americans returned home when the war in Europe began in 1939, she remained and became part of the large overseas radio project Germany supported to win the war of words on the airwaves. She fell for former Hunter College professor Max Otto Koischwicz (though he was married with a family), and her loyalty was to his radio efforts. As the book's promotional material notes, "under his leadership, her position as a simple announcer escalated into master propagandistbecoming the messenger of Nazi propaganda and doom to the American GI. Gillars, a failed Broadway actress, learned fast and used her sexy, soothing voice to taunt troops about the supposed infidelities of their wives and girlfriends back home, as well as describing the horrible deaths they were about to meet on the battlefield."
Lucas sets the stage for events happening in the world during critical times in Gillars' life, whether her pre-Germany attempts to achieve stardom or her time during the war. We also learn of another woman broadcaster known as Axis Sally, but she was able to avoid treason charges.
After the war ended, Gillars was eventually captured by the Americans, and some time later was returned to the United States to stand trial for treason. While the United States now feared the "red menace" of communism, Gillars' trial in 1949 still garnered much media attention, and she was always happy to give a quote or pose for the cameras. It was as if she saw this as just another stage play in her life.
While other U.S. citizens avoided trial, and while some known Nazis were allowed to come to America and freely thrive in new careers, Gillars was convicted of one of the more benign charges against her (acting in a radio play she didn't even write), and was sentenced to 20-30 years in prison. She served 12 years and was paroled in 1961. The last part of her life was almost the polar opposite of the first part: she mostly avoided the photographers and reporters seeking her out.
Despite the subtle homophobia in the book (in one place the author leaves unchallenged a comment by someone who thought a prison questionnaire asking "Are you a lesbian?" and other personal questions "despicable"), I did enjoy learning about this mostly forgotten chapter in broadcast history. It is a great companion to studies about the more well-known Tokyo Rose (Iva Toguri). My one quibble is that the book is at times a bit repetitive.
Lucas also provides photos and transcripts of some of Gillars' radio programs. Her words are what is truly "repulsive," and Lucas gives us mostly unsympathetic context to understand just how and why this woman so betrayed her fellow Americans.