ITTER, AUSTRIA — If you pitched this story to a movie studio, they would likely reject it for being too unrealistic. A medieval castle in the Austrian Alps. A prison housing former Prime Ministers and a tennis celebrity. A cigar-chomping American tank commander joining forces with a disillusioned German Major. And a final, desperate battle where Americans and Germans fought side-by-side against a fanatical SS division.
Yet, on May 5, 1945, just days before the official end of World War II in Europe, this exact scenario played out. It is known as the Battle of Castle Itter, and it remains one of the most bizarre, heroic, and singular events in military history.
The VIP Prisoners of Castle Itter
To understand the stakes, one must first look at the guest list. Castle Itter (Schloss Itter) wasn’t just any prison. It was a holding facility for “Honor Prisoners”—high-value targets that the Third Reich wanted to keep as bargaining chips.
Trapped inside the castle’s thick walls was a group of people who represented the heart of pre-war France. There was Édouard Daladier and Paul Reynaud, both former Prime Ministers. There were Generals Maxime Weygand and Maurice Gamelin, former commanders of the French armed forces. There was Jean Borotra, a world-famous tennis champion known as the “Bounding Basque,” and Marie-Agnès de Gaulle, the sister of General Charles de Gaulle.
For years, these political rivals lived in tense proximity, their petty squabbles echoing through the castle halls. But as the spring of 1945 arrived, their internal bickering was replaced by a singular, unifying fear: execution.
With the Third Reich collapsing, the guards at Itter were becoming desperate. The commandant of the Dachau concentration camp, Eduard Weiter, had fled to the castle for refuge, only to die under mysterious circumstances on May 2. Fearing the wrath of the advancing Allies—or perhaps the retribution of their own SS superiors—the castle’s commander, Sebastian Wimmer, and his guards abandoned their posts on May 4.
The prisoners were technically free, but they were trapped. The surrounding forests were teeming with the 17th SS Panzer Grenadier Division, a unit of die-hard fanatics with orders to leave no prisoners alive.
A Cook on a Bicycle
The prisoners knew they needed help, and fast. In a move of desperate bravery, Zvonimir Čučković, a Croatian handyman imprisoned at the castle, volunteered to go find the Americans. He slipped out and managed to contact the US 103rd Infantry Division. However, military bureaucracy and divisional boundaries meant a rescue force couldn’t be dispatched immediately.
Fearing Čučković had failed, the prisoners sent a second runner: their Czech cook, Andreas Krobot. He grabbed a bicycle and pedaled frantically toward the nearby town of Wörgl.
In Wörgl, Krobot didn’t find Americans. He found the Wehrmacht.
Major Josef “Sepp” Gangl was a career German soldier who had become disillusioned with the Nazi regime. He was currently leading a small unit of Wehrmacht soldiers but had secretly been collaborating with the Austrian resistance to protect the town from SS reprisals. When Krobot told him about the situation at the castle, Gangl faced a choice. He could flee and save himself, or he could try to save the French VIPs.
Gangl chose honor. But he knew his handful of men couldn’t hold off an SS division alone. He needed heavy metal. He needed the Americans.
The Unlikely Alliance
Gangl jumped into his Kubelwagen and drove toward the American lines under a white flag. He encountered the reconnaissance element of the US 12th Armored Division, led by Captain John C. “Jack” Lee.
Lee was the quintessential American tanker: brash, brave, and rarely seen without a cigar. When a German officer drove up and asked for help fighting the SS, Lee didn’t hesitate. He radioed HQ, got a hesitant “go ahead,” and organized a rescue party.
It was a ragtag convoy. Leading the way was Lee’s own Sherman tank, affectionately named “Besotten Jenny.” Following him were Gangl’s Kubelwagen, a truckload of Wehrmacht soldiers, and a handful of American infantry.
As they drove up the winding mountain road to the castle, they were forced to leave some of their forces behind to guard bridges. By the time they reached Castle Itter, the “army” consisted of one tank (Besotten Jenny), 14 American soldiers, Major Gangl, and ten of his Wehrmacht artillerymen.
When they rolled through the castle gate, the French prisoners were initially disappointed. They had expected an army; they got a single tank and a few trucks. But when they saw German soldiers hopping out to set up defensive positions alongside the Americans, disappointment turned to bewilderment.
“It was the strangest thing I ever saw,” one prisoner later recalled. “Yesterday’s enemies were sharing cigarettes and loading magazines together.”
The Battle Begins
Captain Lee took command of the castle’s defense. He positioned the Besotten Jenny at the main gate to block the entrance and provide heavy fire support. He ordered the French prisoners to hide in the cellar, but the VIPs were having none of it. They were tired of being captives. Many of them, including 72-year-old Paul Reynaud and the tennis star Borotra, grabbed rifles and ammunition left behind by the fleeing guards.
The attack came on the morning of May 5.
The SS launched a full-scale assault from the surrounding woods. They had the high ground and heavy weaponry, including an 88mm anti-aircraft gun and 20mm anti-aircraft cannons.
The battle was ferocious. The SS opened fire with the 88mm gun, scoring a direct hit on the Besotten Jenny. The tank erupted in flames. The crew managed to bail out just in time, but the defenders had lost their only heavy weapon.
Now, it was small arms against artillery. The Americans, Germans, and French fired from the castle windows and ramparts. Major Gangl and Captain Lee moved from post to post, directing fire. The SS pressed closer, inching their way up the slopes, blasting the castle walls with machine-gun fire.
A Hero’s Death
In the heat of the battle, tragedy struck. Major Josef Gangl, the man who had crossed the lines to save the prisoners, saw former Prime Minister Paul Reynaud recklessly exposing himself to enemy fire. Gangl sprinted across the line of fire to push Reynaud to safety.
A sniper’s bullet caught Gangl in the head. He died instantly. He was the only defender to be killed in the battle, dying to save a man who had once been the leader of his country’s enemy.
The situation was becoming critical. Ammunition was running low. The SS were preparing to storm the gate with Panzerfausts (anti-tank weapons). They needed reinforcements, but their radio communications had been cut.
The Tennis Star’s Great Escape
Enter Jean Borotra. The former Wimbledon champion, still fit and athletic, volunteered for a suicide mission. He offered to vault the castle walls, run through the SS lines, and guide the American relief force to the castle.
“I am the youngest here,” he reportedly told Lee. “I have the best chance.”
Dressed in a makeshift disguise, Borotra leaped over the castle wall. He sprinted through the woods, dodging SS patrols, running a literal gauntlet of fire. Remarkably, he made it. He linked up with the approaching relief column from the 142nd Infantry Regiment and helped guide them toward the castle.
The Cavalry Arrives
Back at the castle, the SS were preparing their final assault. They blew open the gate. The defenders braced for hand-to-hand combat.
Suddenly, the roar of engines echoed through the valley. But it wasn’t SS Panzers. It was American tanks.
The relief force arrived just in time, smashing through the SS positions from the rear. Caught between the castle’s defenders and the fresh American troops, the SS unit disintegrated. Dozens were captured; the rest fled into the woods.
At 4:00 PM, the battle was over.
The scene that followed was surreal. American GIs were hugging French politicians. French Generals were shaking hands with Wehrmacht soldiers. Captain Lee, exhausted and covered in soot, finally lit a fresh cigar.
Reflecting on the Impossible
The Battle of Castle Itter was a minor engagement in the grand scope of World War II. It changed no borders; it toppled no regimes. But its significance lies in its humanity.
In the final, chaotic spasms of the most destructive war in history, the lines between “us” and “them” dissolved. Major Gangl didn’t fight for the Third Reich that day; he fought for what was right. Captain Lee didn’t fight to kill Germans; he fought to save lives, regardless of nationality.
Major Gangl was honored as a hero in Austria. A street in Wörgl is named after him today. Captain Jack Lee received the Distinguished Service Cross. The French prisoners returned to Paris, their lives spared by the unlikeliest of alliances.
We often look at history in black and white—Allies versus Axis, Good versus Evil. Castle Itter reminds us that in the margins, there is always gray. There is always a choice. And sometimes, enemies can become brothers, if only for a single day.
