Documents, newspapers and prisoners' uniforms are among the grim finds discovered in the family home once owned by Rudolf Höss, the commandant of Auschwitz, ahead of its opening to the public on Monday.
Located in the southern Polish city of Oświęcim, the three-story villa—which overlooks the world’s most notorious concentration camp—was purchased by the Counter Extremism Project (CEP), a U.S.-based NGO, and will open its doors to visitors on the 80th anniversary of the camp’s liberation.
Prior to this, workmen had stripped the property bare, using 14 dumpsters to haul away the house’s post-war embellishments.
Prior to this, workmen had stripped the property bare, using 14 dumpsters to haul away the house’s post-war embellishments.
It was during this work that a string of astonishing discoveries were made, among them stamps embossed with Hitler’s face, Nazi newspapers, cigarette boxes, personal documents, wartime beer bottles, boot polish and a mug stamped with the seal of the Waffen SS.
Chillingly, an inmate’s striped uniform was also found plugging a hole in the attic.
Tentative research suggests that it was once possibly worn by a Jewish inmate.
Tentative research suggests that it was once possibly worn by a Jewish inmate.
Of the other ephemera, children's drawings were also uncovered, a stark reminder that for the Höss family, life at Auschwitz was something to enjoy.
“My family, to be sure, were well provided for in Auschwitz,” wrote Höss after the war. “Every wish that my wife or children expressed was granted them. The children could live a free and untrammeled life. My wife’s garden was a paradise of flowers.”
Together with their five children, Höss and his wife, Hedwig, lived in luxury, their trappings generously supplemented by jewelry, furs and foods confiscated from arriving prisoners.
“My family, to be sure, were well provided for in Auschwitz,” wrote Höss after the war. “Every wish that my wife or children expressed was granted them. The children could live a free and untrammeled life. My wife’s garden was a paradise of flowers.”
Together with their five children, Höss and his wife, Hedwig, lived in luxury, their trappings generously supplemented by jewelry, furs and foods confiscated from arriving prisoners.
In his post-war testimony, one of the gardeners, Stanisław Dubiel, said that Hedwig was so enamored by her quality of life that she told him: “Here I want to live and die.”
“They had everything in their household,” wrote Dubiel, “and there was no way they would lack anything with the enormous supplies of all kinds of goods accumulated in the camp.”
For the household staff—many of whom were inmates or local Poles—working for the Höss family would have been a terrifying experience. This, though, is overlooked in the post-war memoir that Höss wrote in captivity.
“They had everything in their household,” wrote Dubiel, “and there was no way they would lack anything with the enormous supplies of all kinds of goods accumulated in the camp.”
For the household staff—many of whom were inmates or local Poles—working for the Höss family would have been a terrifying experience. This, though, is overlooked in the post-war memoir that Höss wrote in captivity.
“The prisoners never missed an opportunity for doing some little act of kindness for my wife or children and thus attracting their attention,” he wrote, as if painting a picture of collective bliss.
“No former prisoner can ever say that he was in any way or at any time badly treated in our house,” he added. “My wife’s greatest pleasure would have been to give a present to every prisoner who was in any way connected with our household... The children were perpetually begging me for cigarettes for the prisoners.”
“No former prisoner can ever say that he was in any way or at any time badly treated in our house,” he added. “My wife’s greatest pleasure would have been to give a present to every prisoner who was in any way connected with our household... The children were perpetually begging me for cigarettes for the prisoners.”
This contrasts sharply with some accounts that the eldest son, 15-year-old Klaus, would fire slingshots at prisoners while dressed in a black SS officer's uniform.
While this has been disputed (those that have regaled this story include Höss’s grandson, a convicted fraudster), it is beyond doubt that the children led a pleasurable existence.
“The children always kept animals in the garden, creatures the prisoners were forever bringing them,” recalled Rudolf Höss. “Tortoises, martens, cats, lizards: there was always something new and interesting to be seen there.”
While this has been disputed (those that have regaled this story include Höss’s grandson, a convicted fraudster), it is beyond doubt that the children led a pleasurable existence.
“The children always kept animals in the garden, creatures the prisoners were forever bringing them,” recalled Rudolf Höss. “Tortoises, martens, cats, lizards: there was always something new and interesting to be seen there.”
In the summer, there would be swimming as well: both in the garden pool and in the nearby river. “But their greatest joy was when Daddy bathed with them,” wrote Höss. “He had, however, so little time for all these childish pleasures.”
Though widely acknowledged to be a kind and loving father, family commitments were superseded by the sense of duty that Rudolf Höss felt: “I had eyes only for my work, my task,” he admitted. “All human emotions were forced into the background.”
In charge of Auschwitz for over three years, his tenure as commandant saw the camp’s killing capacity enthusiastically expanded.
Though widely acknowledged to be a kind and loving father, family commitments were superseded by the sense of duty that Rudolf Höss felt: “I had eyes only for my work, my task,” he admitted. “All human emotions were forced into the background.”
In charge of Auschwitz for over three years, his tenure as commandant saw the camp’s killing capacity enthusiastically expanded.
“It would often happen, when at home, that my thoughts suddenly turned to incidents that had occurred during an extermination,” he later lamented. “I then had to go out. I could no longer bear to be in my homely family circle... The thought would often come to me: how long will our happiness last.”
The answer would not be long in coming. As the Eastern Front collapsed, the Höss family went into hiding. Masquerading as a gardener, Höss evaded capture for nearly a year after the war, working in Northern Germany under an assumed name.
The answer would not be long in coming. As the Eastern Front collapsed, the Höss family went into hiding. Masquerading as a gardener, Höss evaded capture for nearly a year after the war, working in Northern Germany under an assumed name.
Justice eventually caught up with him, and after being arrested by a British unit led by a German Jewish Nazi hunter, he was handed over to Polish authorities in 1946.
Sentenced to death by hanging, he was executed on a gallows in Auschwitz on April 16, 1947, just a short stroll from the house in which he once lived.
Sentenced to death by hanging, he was executed on a gallows in Auschwitz on April 16, 1947, just a short stroll from the house in which he once lived.
Originally built in 1937 for a Polish soldier—the date it was built remains etched in the stonework—the house passed into the hands of Grażyna Jurczak in the 1970s.
Happily raising her own family inside the house, the widow says she was moved to sell following the 2023 premiere of Zone of Interest, an Oscar-winning film that disturbingly portrays the banal daily lives of the Höss family.
Happily raising her own family inside the house, the widow says she was moved to sell following the 2023 premiere of Zone of Interest, an Oscar-winning film that disturbingly portrays the banal daily lives of the Höss family.
Reminded of the house’s disturbing past and perturbed by the number of sightseers peering through her windows, Jurczak sold the house last year to the Counter Extremism Project.
Now, plans are afoot to transform it into a place for reflection with the Polish-born ‘starchitect,’ Daniel Libeskind, revealing he aims to revamp the interiors so that they resemble “a void, an abyss.”
Now, plans are afoot to transform it into a place for reflection with the Polish-born ‘starchitect,’ Daniel Libeskind, revealing he aims to revamp the interiors so that they resemble “a void, an abyss.”
“Everyone has or can relate to the ‘house next door,’” Mark Wallace, the CEO of the Counter Extremism Project, told CNN.
“But today hatred lurks with ubiquity in houses as close to us as next door. [This house] will take up the fight against destructive hatred, and against extremism and antisemitism.”
“But today hatred lurks with ubiquity in houses as close to us as next door. [This house] will take up the fight against destructive hatred, and against extremism and antisemitism.”
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