Nazi flag - 1936:
Book; Devil At My Heels, with David Rensin, Harper Paperback, 2011, pages 40 -42.
Later I hit the streets of Berlin (evening after Louis ran in the 1936 Olympics) with a friend from the team. We hiked everywhere, saw the sights. We wanted to find an Automat, where they served liters of beer. You could drink one and walk around with a little boost. Maybe try something you normally wouldn't. We also wanted souvenirs. I grabbed an ashtray from a Tanz bar, a dance hall and bar. I also copped a fan.
At the Reich Chancellery we stopped and stood across the street to take in the magnificent building. In front, two guards marched from the doorway in the middle to the corners, where each would do an about-face and goose-step back to the center. While we stared, a limousine pulled up and Hitler got out and went inside, accompanied by some officers.
Of all the possible souvenirs, I wanted a Nazi flag the most. I could not get the beautiful ones, the long silk streamers that hung from the building tops, so I set my sights lower and spotted a banner maybe ten, fifteen feet up, on a pole stuck in the Chancellery's perimeter wall. My mind went to work; thinking maybe I could get it when the guards were not looking; I watched them walk their circuit and timed how long it took. I figured I could be across the street and up and down the pole while they walked toward their respective corners, then gone before they swung again in my direction.
As soon as the guards turned I made my move, but when I got under the flag it was higher than I figured and I had some trouble getting up the pole. When the guards did their about-face, they saw me, and began to yell. I stretched, grabbed the flag, then dropped to the ground and ran. I heard a loud crack that sounded a lot like a rifle shot, and words Halten sie! Halten sie! I did not need to understand German to figure it out.
I made the smart move: I stopped. The guards seized me and cuffed me a bit for good measure before they took a good look at my Olympic clothing and realized I was an American athlete. One guard spoke very halting English. He wanted to know why I had torn down the flag. I told him my name and the truth: I wanted a souvenir to take home to America and here I embellished a bit and said to always remind me of the wonderful time I had in Germany.
He left me with the other guard, went into the building, and returned with an older, high-ranking officer, introduced as Fritz. I later learned it was General Werner von Fritsch, commander-in-chief of the German Army (whom they eventually executed for going against Hitler's policies). Von Fritsch said, Why did you tear down the swastika?
I repeated my explanation. It must have been the right answer. He presented me with the flag, as a souvenir of your trip to Germany.
I still have the flag today.
Louis Zamperini
