RECAPTURING DEHOMAG was a long, involved process that began within days of Germany’s surrender. On May 18, 1945, IBM NY sent three letters to the State Department’s War Problems Division. The first explained that IBM owned a company called Dehomag that installed equipment around Germany. Certainly, much of that machinery had been moved in the last days of the Third Reich. IBM wanted State Department help in locating every one of those devices. “From January 1937,” IBM’s letter claimed, “Dehomag has failed to give us detailed information of installations in Germany…. Consequently, we do not know the exact location of the machines. We attach a list of the places in which at one time we knew machines were located.” A two-column list itemized eighty-eight German cities and towns where Holleriths had been installed. The statement about not knowing addresses since 1937 was made in spite of IBM’s assistance in preparing the Civil Guide, which included up-to-date addresses as of 1944 on numerous key Hollerith installations.43
The company’s second letter to the War Problems Division included the addresses of two residential properties that had been managed by IBM’s tax attorney. IBM wanted the rents. “He has, no doubt, accumulated a substantial amount of money for the rentals of the buildings.”44
A third letter just reminded the State Department that by immediately establishing communications with Dehomag, a list of the precise locations of shifted equipment could be obtained.45
Shortly thereafter, the State Department sent instructions to American foreign service officers in Germany and Austria to “extend such protection as may be possible to the property.”46
On October 24, 1945, Chauncey returned triumphantly to Germany to reclaim Dehomag. The setting was quite different from his last visit. Then, in 1941, he never knew from moment to moment whether he would run afoul of the Nazi Party. Now he was in the company of victors.47
Chauncey’s journey began in liberated France, where the U.S. Army assigned Capt. Philip Kober as his escort. The two men traveled to Frankfurt where another escort, Capt. Philip Hayter, joined them. Their first stop was IBM’s Frankfurt office. As he entered the property, Chauncey was abundantly cautious in his demeanor. General Eisenhower had decreed strict “non-fraternization,” forbidding such common courtesies as shaking hands with Germans, engaging in friendly conversation, or visiting in German homes. IBM could adapt to any geo-political setting. When the rule was banquets and social graces, the company could summon up corporate celebrations and par-take of festive extravangazas at a moment’s notice. Now under strictures of cold communication, IBM could exhibit regulation chilliness. In that vein, Chauncey visibly asked his military escorts’ permission before conversing with anyone, spoke only in the presence of officers, and even declined to look at papers unless cleared in advance. After first obtaining permission to speak to IBM’s Frankfurt manager, Chauncey, in a dispassionate, formal tone, requested a complete list of financial data on the office. Little more was discussed with the Dehomag manager.48
From Frankfurt, the trio traveled the next day to Stuttgart, hoping to inspect the vital Dehomag factory in nearby Sindelfingen. In Stuttgart, Chauncey first met with Maj. J. M. Teasdale, the U.S. officer in charge of Dehomag and other commercial property in the area. When Chauncey asked if there was any existing procedure for an American company to regain control of its property, Teasdale replied that none yet existed. But if it would help, Teasdale offered to make Chauncey the custodian. He explained that if Chauncey accepted the custodianship, he would be functioning not in IBM’s interest as much as in the army’s interest. Chauncey was not receptive, feeling, “I think it unwise for any IBM man to be in charge.” In any event, Teasdale declared he would not permit any German to continue working for an American firm against the American company’s wishes. That included Dehomag.49
What’s more, there was business to be done. The U.S. military needed more Hollerith alphabetizers in France and Germany. The army was prepared to sign leases for equipment. Teasdale declared he was more than willing to permit Dehomag to fill those orders. He then assigned a field investigator, Private Schufert, to accompany Chauncey and his escorts to Sindelfingen.50
Dehomag’s Sindelfingen plant was undamaged. No bombs had struck. Chauncey and the three military men were met by Oskar Hoermann. Taut and unfriendly, Chauncey informed Hoermann he would not converse with him except with the permission and within earshot of “the Army people… ac companying me.” Having been authorized to speak, Chauncey stated that the army wished IBM to recover the Holleriths the German Army had removed from France. Hoermann replied, as Chauncey noted in his report, that “Dehomag had little information, since the taking of the machines was done by the German Army and not with the cooperation of Dehomag.” Ironically, few knew more about those transferred machines than Hoermann. Hoermann, of course, was deputy Nazi custodian of CEC, the key Dehomag engineering manager in charge of French equipment, and aware of page after page of CEC billing demands on the Reich. What’s more, Hoermann functioned as the intermediary between CEC and the MB as Fellinger negotiated and finalized all machine-specific lease contracts. Chauncey did not correct Hoermann.51
Instead, Chauncey merely went on to the next order of business. The U.S. Army, said Chauncey, was anxious to obtain German-made alphabetizers, especially the advanced D11-A. Hoermann replied that although five such machines were placed into production, only one was fully assembled and in operation—the machine used at Dachau. Then in the presence of two special military escorts and an army field investigator, Chauncey inspected the Dachau machine. It was partially dismantled. He noticed that the device, which featured a rotary printing mechanism, seemed larger than the Model 405 American alphabetizer. Hoermann asserted that the Dachau machine never worked as well as it should. Captains Kober and Hayter also examined the device. In reporting back to IBM NY about the D11-A, Chauncey wrote, “This machine was used at Dachau, but was sent to the Dehomag at Sindelfingen through the cooperation of Mr. Hendricks.” Sergeant Hendricks was a U.S. Army industry liaison that headed up “a special installation” at Bad Nauheim.52
As Chauncey turned to leave, the gregarious Hoermann tried to ask several questions about his IBM friends. He had openly corresponded with them during the war years. But Chauncey stiffly cut him off, asserting that no personal conversation or other pleasantries could be exchanged. Hoermann demurred.53
That day, the group returned to Frankfurt where they met with Hendricks, who had just returned from Berlin. Hendricks had inspected the damaged Lichterfelde facility, and was carrying an envelope for IBM containing a full report from the German staff there. Lieutenant Colonel Flick had conveyed the report to Hendricks. In the awkward moment that followed, Hendricks pulled the envelope out of his pocket, but Chauncey declined to actually accept it. Instead, Chauncey immediately handed the envelope—without looking inside, to Captain Kober standing next to him. Kober, who read German, skimmed the reports and then granted permission for Chauncey to review it as well. Chauncey did so, but quickly realized the reports “convey no information not previously known.”54
Hendricks told Chauncey some additional information about Dehomag managers. Rottke’s imprisonment by the Russians for Nazi connections was considered a lost cause because Mrs. Rottke was known for pronounced Nazi views. But Hummel was back. After Hummel was released from the Allied prison at Bad Kreuznach, Hendricks saw no harm in transporting him to Stuttgart in a truck.55 Even though Watson had wanted Hummel excised, he had already been restored to the company.