Wolfe Frank - Nuremberg's Voice of Doom - The Autobiography of the Chief Interpreter at History's Greatest Trials

Mike also found time to visit Wolfe at home. ‘He was a superb cook, great company and a wonderful raconteur. The stories of his early life, his escape from Nazi Germany, Nuremberg and his undercover operation never ceased to enthral me,’ said Mike when I interviewed him, ‘and the other things that impressed me and left a lasting impression were his intelligence, his immaculate appearance on all occasions, his bearing, his good manners, his fellowship, his charm and his sincerity. He was a dear friend whom to this day I miss very much’.

On one of his last visits to Brussels Wolfe must have mentioned his illness and his changed circumstances to others, for amongst his papers was found the kind of letter few men will ever be fortunate enough to receive:

‘It doesn’t matter whether or not you remember who I am,’ wrote the admirer (or former lover?) ‘this is not fan mail. I am only telling you something many other people have thought… you are still totally recognizable as one of the most attractive men I have ever seen. When I first met you, some ten years ago, I was struck by your very special air, that of an exceptionally charming man. What you had then you still have now, and I daresay you will keep it about you through whatever illness and age do to you. I hope you enjoy it even half as much as those who meet you do’.

Back in Mere Wolfe’s finances and health continued to decline and he was forced to vacate The Malt House where he had been living for several years. With nowhere else to go he was obliged to seek accommodation from a very sympathetic and helpful Salisbury District Council who, acknowledging he was on the point of being made homeless, provided him with a bungalow in Mere and further helped him by paying utility charges, providing second-hand furniture and arranging other social benefits.

Wolfe’s illnesses eventually made it impossible for him to continue travelling to Belgium and he was forced to accept even more State benefits. He said one day to Mike Dilliway, ‘I can live with Mr Parkinson, but I can’t live with going blind.’

A few days later, on 10 March 1988, reflecting on his situation, upon what he had once had and (in spite of what his admirer suggests in her letter) knowing what he had lost for ever, this proud man visited his friend Mike Dilliway at his repair shop and asked if he could borrow a roll of masking tape. When Mike asked him what he wanted it for Wolfe simply replied: ‘If anyone asks I’m going to be doing some decorating.’ It was the last thing said between the two friends.

Wolfe returned to his home, prepared himself to look his immaculate best, dressed himself in his finest clothes and went to his favourite local restaurant, The Old Ship Inn at Mere (see Plate 23) – which abutted his former Malt House home – and he indulged himself in their finest cuisine which he washed down with a bottle of vintage champagne before getting into his car and driving off into the night.

The following day Mike Dilliway was visited by Wiltshire Police and, as the local recovery service, he was asked to go to a farm track just off the Mere By-pass and remove a car in which the body of a man had been discovered. The driver had died, Mike was told, from carbon monoxide fumes he had inhaled whilst in a vehicle that had a hose pipe attached and its windows sealed with masking tape. Mike did not need to ask the number of the vehicle or the name of the deceased.

Some days later the Police returned and handed Mike a copy of a document, released by the Wiltshire Coroner’s office – it had been discovered on the passenger seat of the car. It was a last will and testament and simply stated Mike Dilliway was to be the sole beneficiary of the Wolfe Frank estate, which consisted of a few less than valuable chattels and his memoirs. Mike, not realizing their importance, promptly placed the documents in his loft where they remained uninvestigated for over 25 years.

There was not enough money left in the Frank estate to cover his funeral expenses and it was Mike who ensured his friend did not suffer the indignity of a pauper’s burial and it was he who also settled Wolfe’s other outstanding debts.

Wolfe, with his privileged background and his mother persuading whoever delivered him to record his birth as having occurred on St Valentine’s Day, came into the world in style. He lived every moment of that life in style and he died with style in his own way, in his own time and by his own hand.

Following the release of his body there was yet one final terribly sad twist to the Wolfe Frank story. After a lifetime of being surrounded by more friends and acquaintances than any man has a right to expect – and having once been listened to by an estimated world-wide audience of four hundred million – just five people were in attendance at Wolfe’s funeral service which was held at Salisbury Crematorium.

Wolfe’s few possessions went to charity and his ashes were, eventually, collected from Mike by a lady – probably one of his ex-wives or past loves – and they were hopefully scattered, as he had wished, on the snow covered slopes of his beloved Davos.

All Mike was left with was his memories and the several boxes of documents he had placed in his attic. A quarter of a century later Mike asked me to take a look at those documents… the rest, as they say, is history… this printed history of a man whose life, involvements and achievements, together with the important historical information contained therein, deserve to be recorded for posterity.

I only hope I have done him justice and that I have told the Wolfe Frank story the way Wolfe Frank would have wanted it to be presented – warts and all. I hope too that historians, romantics and casual readers alike will see what I see – that once there was a man whose ‘superlative scholarship, administration, intellect and integrity’ won him the unreserved praise of all who were fortunate enough to witness his performances on a world stage, and that he was a major contributing factor in the success of the ‘greatest trial in history!’

The mine of information contained in Wolfe Frank’s memoirs and the other records he entrusted to his friend Mike Dilliway have made this book possible. I would therefore like to put on record my gratitude to Wolfe for the vast amount of time, care and effort he put into recording his life’s history and involvements – especially those concerning the events leading up to and including the Nuremberg trials and the pioneering work he was involved in that brought about Simultaneous Interpretation. I am also grateful to Mike Dilliway for entrusting me with the task of editing Wolfe’s work and putting together this record, and Martin Mace and Frontline Books for encouraging me to bring this, what I consider to be important information, to the attention of a wider audience.

I also thank my son Simon Hooley for his considerable help with some of the graphics included in this book and my wife Helen for her proof reading skills, and for her understanding of the months that I spent two floors above her in my man cave sorting, researching and producing this work.

Henry and Peter Goyert, the son and grandson respectively of Wolfe’s half sister Olly, were able to provide me with valuable information and photographs that helped enormously to fill in parts of the Frank family life from the late 19th century up until the time of the Holocaust which took the lives of Olly’s mother and sister.

Others whose help I gratefully acknowledge include: Wolfe’s housekeeper Gillian White and his neighbour Valerie Hill; Paul Brown and the US National Archives; Holly Reed of the US National Archives & Records Administration; Allan Bishop and Connor Drewitt of Gillingham Press; Ann Corcoran and the Wiltshire & Swindon Coroner’s Office; Melanie Loveland and translator Frank Mercer.