What American Soldiers Did to SS Guards When They Found Dachau

On April 29, 1945, the soldiers of the U.S. 45th Infantry Division, known as the Thunderbirds, were advancing toward a large complex near Munich, Germany. They believed they were approaching a supply depot or perhaps a factory, unaware that they were about to encounter one of the most horrific scenes of World War II. As they made their way through the dense foliage, the air was thick with tension and uncertainty, the sky a dull gray, reflecting the somber mood of the day.

The Discovery of the Death Train

As the soldiers reached a railroad track, they spotted a train composed of 39 cattle cars, silent and motionless. Curiosity piqued, they approached the train, but it was the stench that hit them first—a foul odor that made their stomachs churn. Lieutenant John McCarthy, a young officer, cautiously peeked inside one of the cars and was met with a sight that would haunt him forever. Inside lay the bodies of thousands of men, women, and children, starved and beaten, stacked atop one another like refuse. They had been left to die of thirst and exposure, and the horror was compounded by the grim realization that some bodies bore bite marks—evidence that the living had resorted to cannibalism in their desperate struggle to survive.

The soldiers, hardened veterans of battles in Italy and France, were unprepared for this. One soldier, a tough 19-year-old from Oklahoma, sank to the ground in tears, overwhelmed by the sight. Others reacted with nausea or rage, their emotions shifting from shock to a cold, seething fury. They looked at the SS watchtowers in the distance and tightened their grips on their rifles. In that moment, the rules of engagement evaporated; the Geneva Convention no longer mattered. What mattered now was revenge.

The Surrender of the SS Guards

The commander of the unit, Lieutenant Colonel Felix Sparks, attempted to maintain order amid the chaos. He shouted orders, urging his men to move past the train and not to look. But how could they not look? The horror was too great. As they approached the main gate of the Dachau concentration camp, they found that the SS guards were still present. The camp commandant, Martin Weiss, had fled, leaving behind a young lieutenant named Heinrich Wicker and about 500 SS men.

Wicker, fully aware that the war was over, stepped forward with a white flag, expecting to be treated with respect. He donned his best uniform and polished his boots, hoping to surrender properly. However, the sight of the clean, well-fed Nazi standing before them was too much for the soldiers who had just witnessed the aftermath of unimaginable cruelty. One American officer spat in Wicker’s face, and the atmosphere turned electric with the desire for retribution.

As the Americans entered the camp, chaos erupted. The prisoners, skeletal figures who had suffered unimaginable horrors, rushed the fences, screaming with joy at the sight of their liberators. But while the prisoners celebrated, the soldiers were hunting, fueled by a primal urge for vengeance.

A Descent into Violence

A group of SS guards attempted to surrender near a coal yard, raising their hands and shouting, “Hitler kaput! Hitler is finished!” They believed this phrase would save them. But Lieutenant Jack Bushyhead, a Native American officer who had just witnessed the horrors of the crematorium, was not in a forgiving mood. He gestured with his Thompson submachine gun, silently ordering his men to line the guards up against a wall.

The Germans, confused and panicked, complied, believing that their surrender would be honored. But as the machine gunner, nicknamed Birdseye, set up his weapon, it became clear that there would be no mercy. A sustained burst of gunfire erupted, cutting through the SS guards like a scythe through wheat. In mere moments, the ground was littered with bodies—some dead, others twitching in their final moments. The snow turned black with coal dust and red with blood.

Lieutenant Colonel Sparks, hearing the gunfire, rushed to the scene. He arrived to find his men firing into a pile of bodies, and he pulled out his pistol, firing into the air to stop the massacre. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. The gunner looked at him, tears streaming down his face. “Colonel, they deserved it,” he replied, the rage of the moment still coursing through him.

This was not an isolated incident. Similar scenes unfolded throughout the camp. At Tower B, SS guards attempted to surrender, climbing down ladders with their hands raised. The Americans didn’t wait; they shot them off the ladders, their bodies falling into the moat below. One soldier later wrote home, “It wasn’t war. It was an execution. I didn’t feel a thing.”

The Primal Justice of the Victims

The violence did not only come from the American soldiers. The prisoners, once victims, sought their own form of justice. They found an SS guard hiding in a watchtower and dragged him down, beating him to death with shovels, sticks, and their bare hands. The Americans stood by, some smoking cigarettes, watching as the prisoners exacted their revenge. When asked if they should intervene, one sergeant replied, “No, let them finish.” The scene was primal, savage, and yet in the eyes of many soldiers, it was justice.

Eventually, order was restored, and Lieutenant Colonel Sparks made the decision to lock up the surviving Germans to protect them from his own men. However, the events at Dachau could not be kept secret for long. Photos had been taken—images of American soldiers standing over piles of executed SS guards, evidence of the chaos that had unfolded.

The Investigation

Days later, an investigative team led by Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Whitaker arrived to assess the situation. They interviewed soldiers and collected evidence, compiling a report that detailed the alleged mistreatment of German guards at Dachau. The report was damning, concluding that American troops had violated international law and recommending court-martials for those involved.

The report reached the desk of General George S. Patton, a strict disciplinarian known for his unwavering adherence to military protocol. However, upon seeing the photographs of the death train and the conditions within the camp, Patton understood the gravity of what his men had witnessed. He summoned the investigating officer and held up the report, questioning its validity.

“This is garbage,” he declared. “You walk into a place like that, see 2,000 dead bodies on a train, and expect my boys to follow the rule book? Hell no.” Patton dismissed the report, refusing to sign the court-martial papers. He recognized that the soldiers’ actions were a human reaction to the unimaginable horrors they had encountered.

A Complex Legacy

The aftermath of the Dachau liberation remains a controversial topic to this day. Some argue that the American soldiers’ actions were justified, a primal response to the atrocities they had witnessed. Others contend that they violated the very principles they were fighting to uphold. The SS guards, who had orchestrated a horrific system of genocide, were met with a brutal and violent end, but the moral complexities of war often blur the lines between right and wrong.

Today, a memorial stands at Dachau, honoring the 30,000 victims of the camp. However, there is no memorial for the 50 SS guards who were executed that day. Their bodies were buried in unmarked graves, forgotten by history. The soldiers of the 45th Infantry Division carried the memory of the death train with them long after the war ended. They tried to forget the violence of that day, but many never regretted their actions.

One veteran reflected years later, “I know killing prisoners is wrong, but that day at that place, it felt like the only right thing to do.” The question remains: if you had seen the death train, would you have pulled the trigger? It’s a haunting inquiry that challenges our understanding of morality in the face of unspeakable evil.

Conclusion

The liberation of Dachau was a pivotal moment in World War II, revealing not only the depths of human depravity but also the complexities of human emotion when faced with such horror. The actions of the American soldiers that day were driven by a visceral response to the atrocities they encountered, raising profound questions about justice, morality, and the human condition in times of war. As we reflect on this dark chapter in history, we must remember the lessons learned and strive to ensure that such horrors are never repeated.