knocked their plans into a cocked hat!”) “Unless means is
found,” warned the British newspaper, “of keeping witnesses to
the point, the Nuremberg defense will become an opportunity
for Nazi polemics and false trails.” Displeased with the stocky
field marshal, the American Army tossed him into their notori-
ous punishment bunker at the Dachau concentration camp a
few days later, as a warning to others who still had to testify.
On March , , the five months of enforced silence were
over. There was not an empty seat in the courtroom as Göring
took the stand. Unable to control his trembling hands, he glared
at the microphone and newsreel cameras. Jackson knew that the
next hours would make or break one or the other of them
perhaps both. He anticipated that the Reichsmarschall might
appeal over the heads of the tribunal to the confused and baffled
German public. The trial might even fuel renewed anti-
Semitism and pro-Nazi sentiments.
The tall, red-faced British judge, Sir Normann Birkett,
wrote in his private manuscript on the trial that Göring was the
man who really dominated the proceedings. He had followed
the evidence with great intentness when the evidence required
it, and had slept like an infant when it did not. Nobody,
reflected Birkett, seemed to have been quite prepared for
Göring’s immense ability and knowledge, or for his mastery and
understanding of the captured documents.
Göring was stripped of his finery but still noble in manner
and now handsome in feature once again. As he began to speak
hoping that somewhere, out there in the depths of the Ba-
varian forest, Emmy and Edda might be listening to his voice
he gained in confidence and assurance with each answer. Even
Speer was moved by the spectacle as this lion of a man fought
back. He began to pump out resonant oratory, scattering im-