Walk with a fraulein cost soldier his life
LIKE most soldiers at the end of World War 1, Cyril Cromar would have been counting down the days until he could set foot back in New Zealand.
But Cromar, a Dunedin bookbinder, never did. He was murdered in Cologne, one of about 30 New Zealanders to die there during the occupation in the first few months of 1919.
When the New Zealand soldiers settled into their temporary homes in Cologne after their long march from France, they were told that fraternisation with Germans was not allowed. The rule was just about more honoured in the breach. Several New Zealanders married German women in the majestic Cologne Cathedral with army officialdom looking elsewhere.
Cromar and his great mate, Bill Clark from Port Chalmers, were among those who ignored the nonfraternisation rule. It cost Cromar his life. He and Clark met, as arranged, two young German women on the bank of the Rhine on the night of February 7, 1919. Clark and one woman sat on a bench and Cromar and the other woman, Maria Esser, walked further along the bank until they too sat on a bench.
They were confronted by a gang of 10 or 12 German youths who had sworn among themselves to cut off the hair of German women seen to be mixing with the recent enemies. Cromar shouted out to Clark for assistance and while Clark was hurrying to help, a shot rang out. The Germans ran away and when Clark arrived, Cromar cried out, ‘‘I’ve been shot’’, and fell against a tree. He was taken to a British field ambulance at suburban Mulheim and was pronounced dead.
A court of inquiry was held the next day and subsequently, British military police questioned and arrested five German youths. Within a month they had been tried, convicted and imprisoned for 18 months. It was apparent that the man who fired the fatal shot was not among the five.
This much was known from the service records of the two New Zealanders, but little was made public. Cromar’s mother, Annie, received a telegram from the Defence Minister telling her of the death and she must have told Cromar’s former employer, bookbinders Stone, Son and Co, because it raised a flag halfmast. Stone’s premises faced the square by the railway station where Cromar had mustered with his reinforcement draft just a year before. In the following days, the Otago Daily Times and the Evening Star both carried death notices saying he had died of wounds and that the cause of death was subject to an inquiry.
Military authorities in Cologne, London and Wellington knew more than they said publicly. The five Germans who had been imprisoned had told authorities the name of their colleague who fired the shot, and that he had fled into a part of Germany unoccupied by Allied forces. He was therefore beyond the legal reach of the British, who were left to investigate the shooting when the New Zealand Division left Germany. reported his arrest and his first court appearance on January 20, 1925, when he was charged with Cromar’s murder.
Bill Clark, living in Port Chalmers and working for the Union Steam Ship Company, was found and said he was a witness to the shooting and would testify if asked. The Government sent a cable to London, offering to send Clark to Cologne.
Swaboda was assigned a defence lawyer and made frequent remand appearances before the British Summary Court while the case against him was assembled and while Clark made his way by sea to London. Clark arrived there on July 19 and told reporters he expected to go on to Cologne in a few days.
The trial finally began on July 24, after Swaboda had been remanded 28 times, before a special military court, presided over by Lieutenantcolonel Walter MaxwellScott, of the Cameronians. Evidence adduced followed the lines made familiar by the original court of inquiry six years before. Four of Swaboda’s companions testified they met at a cafe and discussed arrangements for cutting off the hair of women found to be consorting with occupying troops.
In London, The Times report of the evidence continued: ‘‘On the Rhine embankment they found two New Zealand soldiers with girls and surrounded one couple and adopted a menacing attitude. The witnesses were at variance regarding the assertion that Cromar drew his bayonet. They all ran away on hearing a shot.’’
Maria Esser, Cromar’s companion, said Cromar sent her away when the Germans approached; he then whistled and called for Clark.
Clark then gave his evidence, repeating what he had told the inquiry six years earlier and adding that he was positive Cromar’s bayonet was never drawn from its scabbard. Swaboda had evidently told his lawyer he fired the shot because Cromar wielded his bayonet and he repeated this when he gave evidence: ‘‘As the New Zealander sprang towards me with a drawn weapon and I had a revolver with me which I had found, I shot at him with it.’’ He said he was under the influence of alcohol.
The trial ended the following day and Swaboda was found guilty of murder. He was sentenced to death but that was commuted to life imprisonment a fortnight later.
While in Cologne, Clark also gave evidence to a magistrate investigating a case against another of the German youths, Christian Roth, who was said to have shouted to Swaboda to shoot. It is not known if Roth was prosecuted. Clark also took time to visit Cromar’s grave at the Cologne Southern Cemetery, where it is flanked by graves of a Gloucestershire Regiment soldier and an Australian air mechanic.
The New Zealand Herald in Auckland ran a story from a correspondent saying people in Cologne were impressed with the way Clark gave his evidence. ‘‘He was in the witness box for only 16 minutes, including his crossexamination. His manner was very composed; he gave his answers readily and quickly, and his evidence really clinched the case. His counsel, in the summing up, referred to him as a very reliable witness and the judgeadvocate remarked that he thought Clark had given his evidence very well.’’
For Swaboda, life meant not quite five years. He was freed in late 1929 after the British occupiers left Germany, leaving the German authorities free to do as they wished with prisoners who had been sentenced by British military courts. Sixteen men and women were set free, according to the Daily Mail. The majority were young women sentenced for disobeying deportation orders.
Another figure in the Cromar case, Philip Volmer, the detective who recognised and arrested Swaboda when he returned to Cologne, was shot and killed in Cologne in 1928. He was one of five police killed when pursuing an escaped bank robber, Johann Heidder.
Most of the other deaths among the occupying New Zealanders were from respiratory illnesses, the last vestiges of the influenza pandemic. One was shot dead by a policeman while committing a crime, one was shot dead accidentally and one was killed when he fell from a train.