According to local media, the gang was trafficking the sign to a port on the Baltic Sea, where they planned to catch a ferry to Sweden. Polish TV-channel TVN24 reported that the thieves would be paid up to $43,000 each for delivering the stolen goods to a Swedish collector or trader. "The main person behind this crime was somebody living outside Poland who does not hold Polish citizenship," prosecutor Artur Wrona told a news conference, according to Reuters. "Our actions in the coming days will be aimed at identifying this person, who is based in a European country." Wrona did not confirm reports by TVN24 that a Swedish collector was involved in the crime.
The five men ages 20 to 39 who carried out the robbery had previous convictions for theft and violence, but none was found to have any links to neo-Nazi organizations. "They did it for money," the prosecutor said. "They knew where they were going and what for, but they were not really aware of the reaction this theft would cause." The gang members now face up to 10 years in jail, for stealing and cutting the sign into three pieces. They did so carelessly: The recovered sign, displayed by Polish authorities, showed they had twisted the priceless metal and even left the letter "i" in "frei" behind in the snow, where it was later recovered.
Alik Keplicz, AP
Polish authorities display part of the Auschwitz death camp's infamous sign, which police say was stolen on commission.
Who commissioned the crime is still a mystery. There is certainly no shortage of obsessive Third Reich and Holocaust relic hunters – who are believed to spend millions of dollars on Nazi artifacts each year – in the United States, Europe and Russia. In May, for example, a teacup and saucer owned by Adolf Hitler sold for $4,250 at a U.S. auction, and a powder compact owned by his mistress Eva Braun went for $4,000.
The search for artifacts can be fiercely competitive, with collectors offering huge sums to secure mementos. Following the death of John Lattimer, the American medic who treated German top brass on trial at Nuremberg, two years ago, his daughter was bombarded with bids for the doctor's Nazi trinkets, according to the Times of London. One anonymous caller offered $120,000 for a cyanide container that had once held Luftwaffe chief Hermann Göring's poison pill.
But while many of those collectors may simply be harmless history buffs who want to own a tangible piece of the 20th century, it seems likely that the person behind the Auschwitz theft had a darker motive. The arched sign sat above the prisoners' entrance to the camp; its motto of "Work sets you free" was meant to distract new arrivals from their grim fate; however, soon they realized the unspeakable cynicism it embodied. Between 1939 and 1945, some 1.1 million people – mostly Jews, but also Polish Catholics, Gypsies and homosexuals – were killed in the death camp's gas chambers, shot by guards or simply left to die of cold or starvation. By ordering the sign's removal, it could be argued, the mastermind of the theft was also trying to remove evidence of that horrific crime.
However, the sign will go on serving as a testament to the brutality and cruelty of the Nazi regime. Museum officials hope that by next month, the restored wrought-iron banner will be back in place under sharpened security – in time for commemorations marking the 65th anniversary of the camp's liberation by Soviet troops.
