Reinhold Kulle: The Nazi Who Lived Undetected Among Suburban Neighbors in America

Post by : Zayd Kamal

Reinhold Kulle, born in 1921, embarked on a journey from Cuxhaven, Germany, on October 26, 1957, aboard the MS Italia, seeking a new life in America. However, his past was far from innocent, as revealed in Michael Soffer's book Our Nazi: An American Suburb's Encounter with Evil. Kulle had a chilling secret: during World War II, he served in the Waffen-SS and worked at the Gross-Rosen concentration camp, where approximately 40,000 Jews met their tragic fate.

Kulle's early life was steeped in the ideologies of the Nazi regime. He joined the Hitler Youth and, by 1940, volunteered for the Waffen-SS, the military wing of the SS. Unlike many of his peers who were intimidated by the violent reputation of the SS, Kulle embraced his role without hesitation. His wartime journey took a darker turn after he was injured on the Eastern Front, leading to his reassignment to Gross-Rosen, which was initially established as a labor camp.

Stay informed with the latest news. Follow DXB News Network on WhatsApp Channel 

The conditions at Gross-Rosen deteriorated drastically due to overcrowding and a grim decision by Nazi leadership, which sanctioned the systematic murder of the weak and elderly. By 1944, the camp was overwhelmed, housing over 40,000 prisoners, and many suffered from inhumane living conditions.

As the war drew to a close, the Displaced Persons Act of 1948 facilitated the immigration of former Nazis like Kulle to the United States. Armed with a new visa, Kulle arrived in New York and eventually settled in Oak Park, Illinois, near Chicago, where he found work as a custodian at Oak Park and River Forest High School.

Kulle’s life in America appeared unremarkable. He became a reliable worker and devoted family man, blending seamlessly into suburban life. However, he was not alone in his concealment of past horrors; others in his community, like Albert Deutscher, shared similar dark histories. Deutscher faced investigations from the Office of Special Investigations (OSI) and tragically died by suicide under mounting pressure.

In the summer of 1981, Kulle became a subject of OSI investigations targeting suspected Nazis. When he received a letter from the OSI in 1982, it marked a turning point, as authorities had gathered substantial evidence against him, including his SS service records and photographs in uniform. Kulle attempted to downplay his involvement, claiming he had merely escorted prisoners. However, discrepancies on his visa application opened the door for potential deportation.

In December 1982, the Chicago Sun-Times broke the story of Kulle’s past, igniting public outrage and calls for his deportation. Surprisingly, amidst the outcry, some defended him, arguing for his right to remain.

After a lengthy legal battle, Kulle was ordered to be deported in November 1984. On October 26, 1987, he boarded a flight back to Germany, severing ties with the life he had built on a foundation of secrets. Despite losing contact with friends and community members, he continued to receive a pension until his death in 2006, passing his final years as a free man, albeit haunted by the shadows of his past.