"Like a giant Meccano set"

LXXIII

The word "Blast" suggested, by itself, sabotage

 

The Final Report on the Hindenburg disaster said of sabotage:

The possibility that the cause is to be explained by premeditated or willful act has received active attention. Sabotage has been examined under two classifications; the first — external, including the use of incendiary bullet, high powered electric ray, and the dropping of an igniting composition upon the ship from an airplane; the second classification — internal – including the placiing within the ship of a bomb or other infernal device. To date, there is no evidence to indicate that sabotage produced the grim result.

It had been a long road to that brief conclusion. Before the cooling metal of her twisted frame stopped ticking, the United States and Nazi Germany had launched a joint investigation into the cause (or causes) of the wreck.

The Nazi Government came at the investigation with an agenda, to prove its airships a safe means of travel. Thus, even as Dr. Eckener was being advised of the details of the accident in Friederichshafen, the propaganda machine in Berlin was already spinning a tale of sabotage --- it had to be sabotage. And they knew who the saboteur was. 

Truth be told, when the Germans entered the plenary session of the investigation having not looked at a shred of evidence and announced that the Hindenburg had been the victim of an “explosive device” the Americans looked askance at the idea. They looked even more askance at the idea that the saboteur had been, according to the Germans, an American. 

The Hindenburg Commission

Thus, at the outset, the investigation was stained by politics. The Germans needed to prove that the ship had been blown up, and the Americans needed to disprove that the culprit --- if any --- was an American. 

The culprit-designate was at home, repairing something on the exterior of his house, when word was broadcast that he was the chief suspect in the investigation of the destruction of the Hindenburg. His wife was in their house listening to the radio when she heard her husband’s name mentioned. She dashed outside to tell him the shocking news. Joseph Spah --- who made his living waltzing in top hat and tails on building parapets --- “nearly fell off the ladder,” according to his wife, Evelyne. 

Spah was stunned. Why him?  He had been one of the more fortunate passengers. As the ship turned into a torch, he had been standing at a Promenade window with his movie camera filming the landing, and at the moment he realized what was happening he leaped out the window, camera and all (amazingly, the film he shot survived). Instinctively calling on his acrobatic training, he had tried to land in a safety roll, but it was a nasty, sudden, unprepared drop of at least 20 feet. He had injured his ankle and scorched his hands on the window frame. As he hit the ground, a Navy ground crewman had dashed up and carried him away ---- he would not have been able to run --- and when he looked back, the spot where he’d landed was covered by flaming wreckage. He had had a very, very close brush with death.

Dated May 7, 1937, this newspaper proves how quickly the investigation swung into action

As a survivor, he had been interviewed by several reporters, but, other than his recovery, which would take a little time, the incident was behind him, or so he thought. 

 Spah was, understandably, anxious. Not only was he being accused of murder, but he was being accused of thirty-six murders. If, by some bizarre chance he was convicted of this crime, he would be facing the electric chair for sure. He may have wondered if they’d throw the switch thirty-six times.

But there was another, less fanciful possibility. There was always a chance that the accusation alone could lead to being branded an “Undesirable.” The U.S. could strip him of his citizenship and deport him to his “Country of Origin,” Germany. Although Strasbourg, where he had been born, was now a French city, it had not always been so. Between the close of the Franco-Prussian War in 1871 and the end of the Great War in 1918, Strasbourg had been part of the German Empire. He doubted that the French would claim him as a citizen. No, he would be sent back to Germany. Spah might not have yet heard the name Dachau, but he had to imagine that the Nazis would not deal kindly with the man accused of destroying their proud airship.  He was a shaken man by the time he met with the FBI. And he was amazed, and angry, at what they told him. 

In one of the several bad movies made about the Hindenburg, a suspicious fellow is dogged by the SS

The German case against Joseph Spah could be summed up as follows:

>>> Spah was a German national who had turned his back on his Fatherland.

(Spah was 17 when he emigrated and became a U.S. Citizen)

>>> Spah had publicly uttered remarks critical of the regime while visiting the Reich.

(Spah --- who apparently did have issues with officialdom --- had made a few jokes onstage at the expense of a minor German functionary with whom he had crossed paths)

>>> There had been threats made to sabotage the Hindenburg.

(The Germans never offered a shred of evidence that Spah had any connection with whoever uttered these threats)

>>> Spah had arranged to travel on the Hindenburg. 

(Spah, the Germans  maintained, intentionally missed his sailing date in order to gain a passage on the airship, ignoring the fact that Spah only agreed to fly home when he was assured --- wrongly --- that he could keep his pet in his cabin) 

In this amazing photograph, Joseph Spah (arrow) jumps from the burning Hindenburg

>>> Spah had acted suspiciously and had argued with a Customs official while boarding the Hindenburg. 

(Because nothing says “covert bomb-wielding anti-Nazi” like a sweaty, visibly anxious man yelling “Dummy!” at a uniformed official while carrying a large doll in one hand, and a small dog in the other. It also didn’t help that he was running late)

>>> Spah had argued with the Chief Steward, and had disobeyed orders regarding his visits to the cargo hold. 

(This was really the crux of the Nazi argument --- Spah contravened authority)

>>> Spah spent excessive time alone with his dog. 

(The Germans argued that the dog was a “blind” allowing Spah access to the interior of the hull. However, they ignored the fact that on this flight, of all flights, they could have easily assigned someone to accompany Spah on each of his excursions to see his dog Ulla. The ship was crew-heavy at 61 men, 14 of them trainees, and there were only 36 passengers)

>>> Spah intentionally attracted attention to himself. 

(Though this would seem to be the exact opposite of what he’d want to do if he was a mad bomber. According to the Germans, the “explosive device” was hidden inside the large doll that Spah had brought aboard, but they never proffered a single proof that this was so. Given their frenzy to blame Spah it is surprising that they didn’t accuse him of feeding dynamite to his dog)

>>> Spah was an acrobat. 

(According to the German theory, Spah had used his acrobatic skills to secret the “explosive device” in an-otherwise inaccessible area of the hull. They speculated it was somewhere near the tail, and the explosion gave rise to the “mushroom-shaped cloud” that Commander Rosendahl testified to --- afterward. But why bother going aloft when the gas-filled ship would have exploded just as disastrously had a bomb been in the cargo hold?)

>>> Spah had survived unharmed because he knew the properties of the “explosive device.” 

(Probably the strongest point of contention they had)

Joseph Spah and a partner dancing on the edge of a New York building. The Chrysler Building is in the rear. This is a clever shot. Spah and partner are dancing only a few feet above the main portion of their building’s roof (note the vent pipe at the bottom of the frame) but the massiveness and the height of the Chrysler Building in the background suggest that they are very high in the air

In response, Spah answered honestly. Yes, he’d made some jokes onstage. And yes, he’d argued with the Customs man. And with Kubis over poor Ulla (who’d died in the crash). No, he didn’t like the Nazis. He liked them even less now. But he had no reason to blow up the Hindenburg.  A bomb in a doll was the stuff of a bad spy novel.

Although Spah didn’t know it, the FBI was seeking to exonerate him unless he directly implicated himself. The U.S. Government wanted no American blamed for the disaster, and so Spah was excused from further questioning.

 

A saboteur on the Hindenburg would have had to climb unseen around her complex interior --- "like a giant Meccano set", a passenger once marvelled --- or just left a bomb in a suitcase

But what really proved Spah’s innocence was that the Germans dropped their accusations against him immediately thereafter and quickly focused a new accusation of sabotage against a member of the Hindenburg’s crew.

 

He was a rigger named Erich Spehl. (The similarity of their names suggests that some mindless oaf of a Nazi looking for a scapegoat was just running his finger down a list of names arranged alphabetically.)

Spehl, whose father had been a Nazi Party member for nearly ten years, was painted as a part of an Anti-Nazi Underground, a group he had joined in company with his girlfriend --- who knows what happened to her after this accusation? 

Spehl had died in the incident, and so the Nazis could close the books on the “sabotage” theory --- but it backfired on them. Spehl’s father was outraged at the smearing of his son’s reputation. The German public raised a hue and cry against the idea that the government could even think that a young hero of the Fatherland who had died in its service --- Spehl was only 25 --- would destroy the Hindenburg. Surviving crew spoke out publicly, calling Spehl a good and dedicated mate. 

In the end Germany backed away from the idea of sabotage, and though it persists in the popular mind  --- the word “blast” occurs over and over in stories about the ship --- there is no evidence that anyone set out to intentionally destroy the Hindenburg.