He Was A Good German

A VERY good journalist friend of mine is having a difficult week - he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. This guy, like myself an old hot metal man, has a nice wee pension enhancer as a writer of sporting obituaries. He has written eight this week; nice work if you can get it - obituary writers will be the last sub-species of journalists to be laid-off through lack of work - but, sometimes a wee bit disheartening, if you are required to assess the life of one of your heroes. That's what I'm doing this morning, re-assessing Bert Trautmann, who has died, aged 89.

 

There is an exchange in Eric Williams' book 'The Wooden Horse', which tells the story of the author's legendary escape from Stalag Luft III - the Prisoner of War camp, from which also came The Great Escape.

 

Williams' legendary and unique escape plan was thought-up in the camp hospital and in the book, he tells of an exchange between a couple of bed-ridden prisoners and one of the German guards. The ward gramophone is playing a Beethoven symphony, enter the guard, who says: "Ah Beethoven - he was a good German".

 

"Yeh mate - he's dead", was the response from a Cockney prisoner, This sums-up the attitude of the time: the only good German was a dead one.

 

That was the attitude into which captured paratrooper Berni Trautmann marched, when he entered a POW camp in Cheshire in 1945. Trautmann, as a member of the Nazi Party and a Hitler Youth sporting hero was classified as a "Black" POW - a hard-cofre Nazi; however, he quickly realised the error of his ways, was re-classified as "Grey" - a Nazi with doubts and finally "White" - a repentant Nazi, prepared to work to undo the wrongs of National Socialism.

 

He had seen the errors of his ways and sought to make partial redress. Trautmann himself says the friendliness which he encountered when, as driver to the POW Camp Commandant, he began to learn English and mix with them outside the barbed wire, completely changed him.

 

He transferred from the POW football team, where an injury-induced switch from centre-half to goalkeeper unearthed the fact that, while Trautmann was a "good" centre-half, he was a "brilliant" goalkeeper, to non-league St Helen's Town, set him on the path to footballing immortality.

 

Perhaps he was lucky; it would have been almost impossible for an English or British goalkeeper to have succeeded Frank Swift when that England legend retired in the summer of 1949 - the German whom Manchester City signed in October of that year was sufficiently exotic to have a chance.

 

It is said 20,000 people beseiged Maine Road to protest at the signing of a former POW, when he left the club 550 games and 15-years later, 47,000 turned out for his testimonial match.

 

Trautmann was good, of that there is no doubt. As a young goalkeeper, watching him reach shots he had no right to get near on Pathe News newsreels, I was mesmerised. But, it was Trautmann's fearless disregard for personal safety which touched me most.

 

Back then, goalkeepers were not the untouchables of today. Centre forwards such as Bill Houliston, Nat Lofthouse, Don Kitchenbrand and BobbySmith had free rein to shoulder-charge goalies - a freedom which only began to be looked-on as unsporting after Lofthouse's controversial winning goal for Bolton in the 1958 FA Cup Final, when he put ball and Harry Gregg into the net with a charge which would today get the perpertrator a straight red card.

 

Trautmann's bravery was his undoing, yet making, when he suffered "a broken neck", diving at the feet of Birmingham City's Peter Murphy in the 1956 FA Cup Final. Like Monty Python's Black Knight - who dismissed the cutting-off of his limbs as: "Tis but a mere scratch sir", Trautmann climbed Wembley's famous 39 steps, accepted his medal from the Duke of Edinburgh, took part in the post-match celebrations, then, still discomforted, went back to Manchester and only thought on the Tuesday: "Maybe I should get this stiff neck looked at".

 

An e-ray showed he was badly-injured and millimetres from death - a legend was born.

 

Trautmann was an innovator. He made the accurate "torpedo throw" to an unmarked team-mate a great weapon in counter-attacking. He pre-dated Peter Shilton by his method of using his impressive physique to come off his line and take-on and beat strikers to crosses. He made acrobatic saves which were beyond other English League goalkeepers.

 

Lev Yashin, who was hardly the most self-effacing of men, insisted there had only been two great goalkeepers up until his time - himself and Trautmann.

 

He was Bob Wilson's hero; and, whatever you think of Wilson, who I believe is much mis-understood in Scotland, his thesis on the art and science of goalkeeping turned him from Robert Primrose Wilson BA to Dr Robert Primrose Wilson, PhD, BA and is the seminal work on goalkeeping.

 

Gordon Banks thought the world of him. If Yashin, Wilson and Banks rated him so-highly - who are we to dispute their views?

 

I think the GErman FA realised their: "home-based Germans only" cost them the services of a German goalkeeper deservedly ranked up their with Maier, Klos, Kahn and the rest, when Trautmann was at his peak. But, they made good use of him as a globe-trotting coach and ambassador, before he retired to live out his days in Spain.

 

In his love 'em and leave 'em approach to women, he perhaps deserves censure; but hey, that is seemingly a footballers' trait. Sure, he had faults, who hasn't. Apparently he had a quick and evil temper, but, his brilliance at his job is a good plea in mitigation.

 

Beating the Germans in the Heavenly World Cup just got harder.

 

Bert Trautmann - he was a good German. Certainly England's favourite.