Otto Skorzeny: Hitler's "Most Dangerous Man in Europe" Becomes an Irish Farmer
Otto Skorzeny, a man once hailed as Hitler's favourite Nazi commando and infamously known as "the most dangerous man in Europe", became an unlikely figure of intrigue in rural Ireland in the late 1950s. His journey from orchestrating some of the most daring operations of the Second World War to purchasing a farmhouse in County Kildare is a story of audacity, secrecy, and enduring controversy.
The Rise of a Commando
Born in Vienna in 1908, Skorzeny was drawn to the rising tide of National Socialism early on, joining the Austrian Nazi Party in the early 1930s. By the time the Second World War erupted, he had become an officer in the Waffen-SS, eventually distinguishing himself on the Eastern Front during the German invasions of Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union.
His reputation soared in 1943, when Adolf Hitler appointed him head of Germany's special forces. Skorzeny’s defining moment came later that year when he was handpicked to lead the rescue of Hitler’s ally, Benito Mussolini, who had been overthrown and imprisoned in a remote Italian hilltop fortress. Skorzeny’s men descended on gliders, overwhelmed the Italian guards, and freed Mussolini, leading to international headlines and a surge in his notoriety. Even Winston Churchill acknowledged the operation as "one of great daring."
From then on, Skorzeny became Hitler’s go-to man for perilous missions. His audacity was further demonstrated in 1944 when he and his team captured Miklós Horthy Jr, the son of the Hungarian regent, Admiral Horthy, rolling him up in a carpet and flying him to Berlin. Skorzeny’s final major operation came during the Ardennes offensive, known as the Battle of the Bulge. In a plan named Operation Greif, he sent German soldiers disguised as Americans behind Allied lines, sowing chaos and rumour, even causing General Eisenhower to be briefly confined to his headquarters for fear of assassination.
A War Criminal on the Run
After Hitler’s demise in 1945, Skorzeny surrendered to American forces. In 1947, he faced trial at Dachau for war crimes, specifically for violating the Geneva Conventions by using enemy uniforms during Operation Greif. However, his trial collapsed, and he was acquitted. Skorzeny remained in Allied custody due to other charges but escaped in 1948 with the help of former SS comrades.
Fleeing to Madrid, Skorzeny set up an import-export business, which acted as a front for aiding the escape of wanted Nazis to South America. He made frequent trips to Argentina, establishing ties with President Juan Perón and his wife, Eva Perón. Skorzeny even reportedly became Eva’s bodyguard and was rumoured to have had an affair with her, although these claims remain speculative.
Arrival in Ireland
By 1957, Skorzeny was travelling further afield. He arrived in Dublin that June, invited to a reception at the Portmarnock Country Club Hotel. His arrival caused quite a stir among the Dublin elite. Despite his dark past, Skorzeny was feted by high society, including prominent political figures like Charles Haughey, a man who would later become one of Ireland's most controversial prime ministers. Reports at the time painted Skorzeny as a glamorous, cloak-and-dagger figure, with Irish journalists often writing of him with an almost admiring tone, focusing on his military prowess rather than his Nazi affiliations.
This warm welcome likely emboldened Skorzeny, for by 1959, he had purchased Martinstown House, a 160-acre farm in the Curragh, County Kildare. At 6ft 4in and weighing 18 stone, with a duelling scar on his left cheek that earned him the nickname "Scarface", Skorzeny was a striking figure as he drove his white Mercedes across the Irish countryside, making occasional stops at the local post office. But despite his imposing presence, he remained aloof and kept a distance from the local community.
Irish Concerns and Questions in the Dáil
Skorzeny’s arrival in Ireland did not go unnoticed by the government. The former health minister, Noel Browne, expressed concerns in the Irish parliament, raising questions about Skorzeny’s intentions. Could the former Nazi be laying the groundwork for a resurgence of far-right politics in Ireland? Browne openly speculated that Skorzeny might be involved in neo-Nazi activities, and there were persistent rumours that his Irish farm was part of an escape route for ex-Nazis fleeing Europe. However, no solid evidence ever emerged to substantiate these claims.
In response to the concerns, the Irish government closely monitored Skorzeny’s presence. State records from 1958 show that he was repeatedly granted temporary visas on the condition that he did not attempt to enter Britain. Skorzeny, for his part, denied any involvement in Nazi activities and insisted that he was merely interested in buying horses and eventually retiring to Ireland.
Legacy of Intrigue
Despite Skorzeny’s assertions, his presence in Ireland remained a source of conjecture. In a post-war Europe still haunted by the spectre of Nazism, Skorzeny represented a reminder of a dark and not-so-distant past. While some Irish people admired him for his audacity and military skill, others viewed him with deep suspicion.
Though he continued to visit Ireland over the years, Skorzeny never settled permanently in the country. Instead, he lived out his final years in Madrid, where he maintained his connections with former SS comrades and other far-right figures. He died of cancer in 1975, still steadfastly refusing to denounce Nazism. In death, as in life, Skorzeny’s Nazi past followed him—his funeral was attended by old comrades, and his coffin was draped in the Nazi colours.
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