The Nazi quantification and regimentation of Jewish demographics in War saw and indeed all of Poland was nothing less than spectacular—an almost unbelievable feat. Savage conditions, secrecy, and lack of knowledge by the victims would forever obscure the details of exactly how the Nazis managed to tabulate the cross-referenced information on 360,000 souls within forty-eight hours.
But this much is known: The Third Reich possessed only one method of tabulating censuses: Dehomag’s Hollerith system. Moreover, IBM was in Poland, headquartered in Warsaw. In fact, the punch card print shop was just yards from the Warsaw Ghetto at Rymarska Street 6. That’s where they produced more than 20 million cards.
WATSON DID NOT really want Poland until 1934. Why? Because that’s when Powers had encroached on IBM business in the Polish market. Watson would not tolerate that.
There were so few potential punch card customers in Poland, in the years before Hitler, that IBM didn’t even maintain a subsidiary there. Watson’s company was only represented by the independent Block-Brun agency. Since the struggling Powers Company sought its few customers wherever IBM didn’t dominate, Powers felt free to operate in Poland. Then, in a 1934 sales coup, Powers convinced the Polish Ministry of Posts to replace its Hollerith equipment with rival Powers’ machines.84
Just as Patterson believed all cash register business “belonged” to the NCR, Watson believed all punch card business innately “belonged” to IBM. When IBM lost the Polish postal service, Watson reacted at once. First, he replaced the Block-Brun agency with a full-fledged IBM subsidiary named Polski Hollerith.85 But who would run the new subsidiary? Watson wanted J. W. Schotte.
Jurriaan W. Schotte was born in Amsterdam in 1896, just about the time Herman Hollerith incorporated his original tabulating company. Schotte was eminently qualified for the international punch card business. His background included civil engineering and military service. He was fluent in Dutch, French, and German, and could speak some Romanian and Malay. He had traveled extensively throughout Europe, and enjoyed good commercial and governmental connections. After a stint at the Dutch Consulate in Munster, Germany, he was employed by Dutch import-export companies in New York, San Francisco, and the East Indies. He knew manufacturing, having managed a factory in Belgium. Schotte was perfect for another reason: He was Powers’ European sales manager. Schotte was the one who had sold the Powers machines to the Polish Post Office.86
Schotte had worked his way up through the Powers organization. Starting as a factory inspector at its U.S. affiliate, he had risen to maintenance supervisor and instructor throughout Europe. A fierce sales competitor, he had deftly operated out of Powers’ offices in Paris, Vienna, and Berlin. Most valuable, Schotte knew all of Powers’ customers and prospects throughout the continent.87
By 1934, however, Dehomag had so thoroughly squeezed Powers in Germany, including its lawsuit for falsely claiming to be an Aryan concern, that Schotte admitted he had “nowhere to go but out.” He traveled to New York to meet with J.T. Wilson, the head of IBM NY’s Foreign Trade Department. Schotte hoped to salvage his career by becoming a European representative for IBM. Wilson was unsure. Schotte brought a great deal of insider knowledge, but he had been the bitter competition for some time. So Wilson only tentatively hired Schotte, and then cabled the various subsidiaries asking their opinion.88
The reports were not good. Heidinger curtly dismissed the suggestion, calling Schotte “an unscrupulous price-cutter.” IBM’s Geneva office was equally unenthusiastic. But Watson thought otherwise—Schotte was just what IBM needed in the new Europe. During a meeting in Watson’s office, Watson dramatically painted a tantalizing picture of the future of Europe, one that excited Schotte because he could play a central role in IBM’s plans. He could return to Europe as IBM’s Manager for Southeast Europe with a handsome compensation package. Schotte was later described as “in awe” and “walking over clouds” as the meeting ended and he stepped to the door of Watson’s office. But his euphoria was cut short when Watson abruptly declared, “Mr. Schotte, your employment in IBM depends on your getting IBM machines back into the Polish Postal Service.”89
Schotte sailed back to Europe and, as Watson had insisted, persuaded the Polish Postal Service to switch back to Hollerith machines.90 Watson would have Poland again.
Hitler also wanted Poland. Nazi doctrine had long called for the conquest of Polish territory, the subjugation of its people as inferiors, and the destruction of its more than three million Jewish citizens that comprised the largest Jewish community in Europe. Moreover, the Reich was determined to confiscate Poland’s significant natural resources and industry, including timber, coke, coal, and steel making in Upper Silesia. Upper Silesia was adjacent to the Sudeten region and many Volksdeutsche lived in its cities. Hitler considered the area German.
By 1935, the year of the Nuremberg racial laws, Polski Hollerith had opened a card punching service bureau in Warsaw. The next year, IBM opened a second Polish office, this one in the Upper Silesian city of Katowice, and then a card printing facility in Warsaw serving a customer base requiring 36 million cards per year. In 1937, Polski Hollerith signed the Polish Ministry of Railroads. That year, IBM changed its name to Watson Business Machines sp. z. o.o. and appointed an IBM salesman of Polish extraction, Janusz Zaporski, as temporary manager. Ironically, although IBM owned and controlled 100 per cent of the company, as he had done so often before, Watson chose to register the stock not in the company’s name, but in the name of his Geneva managers. In this case, it was IBM Europe General Manager John Holt and IBM’s Geneva auditor J. C. Milner, as well as a token share—the equivalent of $200—in the name of a Polish national. By the time the company changed names to Watson Business Machines sp. z. o.o in 1937, IBM had garnered only twenty-five customers in Poland. But the list included some of the country’s most vital industry giants, such as the Baildon steelworks. More importantly, by this time, the subsidiary had organized the nation’s freight cars and locomotives, and through the Polish Postal Service could control access to every address in Poland.91
After Hitler invaded Poland in September 1939, IBM NY awarded the lucrative Upper Silesia industrial territory to Dehomag, negotiating the disposition of each of the pre-existing machines. Then Watson recast his Polish subsidiary as an Aryan entity by re-incorporating as a German company and affixing a German language name, Watson Buromaschinen GmbH, with the recognizable, German incorporation suffix. The office in war-torn Warsaw was moved to Kreuz 23, and the company appointed a German manager, Alexander von Dehn. Von Dehn was only in charge of the remnant Polish territory, that is, the vanquished and subjugated remainder known in Hitler parlance as the “General Government.” All but two of the previous Polish customers of the remnant subsidiary had disappeared, since the Polish infrastructure ceased to exist except as a vassal to the Germans.92
Yet, after adjusting for the effects of the invasion, the subsidiary thrived for years under the murderous Nazi regime. IBM’s German or Polish subsidiaries, separately or in tandem, serviced the occupying Nazi needs through the German military’s constantly changing punch card agency, which ultimately became known as Maschinelles Berichtwesen ( MB ), or the Office for Auto mated Reporting. The MB maintained Polish field offices in Posen, Krakow, Stettin, and Danzig. Each MB office was typically equipped with one alphabetical tabulator and duplicator, ten alphabetical punchers and proofers, eight magnetic punchers and proofers, one D-11 tabulator with summary capabilities, and two or three sorters. One or two Wehrmacht officers supervised a typical support staff of several dozen as well as one or two on-site so-called Hollerith experts. Dehomag itself was in charge of all MB office training, leasing, upkeep, and custom-printed punch cards and design of specialized applications. The projects were as diverse as a so-called “horse census” of all horses and mules in Poland, which would help move German elements through the harsh Polish winter, to the shipments of coal. IBM Geneva was so proud of the horse census, conducted in spring 1940, that they quickly included it in a special report to IBM’s Washington office describing the lucrative war profiteering of the various European subsidiaries.93