By Michael Behrendt, Maren Wittge and Olaf Wagner
It should be a happy celebration of the best athletes in the world. Instead, the 1972 Munich Olympics went down in history as days of sadness and shame.
The Palestinian terrorist organization Black September ambushed the Israeli team. The situation escalated to a hostage situation that ended with the murder of eleven Jewish players.
The five terrorists died, as did a police officer. The actions of the police were unprofessional and embarrassing. And made it clear that Germany was not prepared for such a situation at the time.
Birth of the GSG9
It was the birth of the GSG9 and the special task forces (SEK) of the individual federal states. That’s 50 years ago. Time for a review. With a founding member.
Martin Textor is 77 years old today. But he looks like he was in his early 60s. In 1972, the Berlin police officer had the rank of commissioner. Officials were wanted nationwide to protect the games. Textor volunteered and traveled to Munich with 20 colleagues. He was assigned to protect the grandstand in the Olympic Stadium.
That’s how he met the Berlin actor Horst Buchholz. And also the later Swedish Queen Silvia, who worked as a hostess at the games under her maiden name Sommerlath.
And he witnessed the massacre that was to change Germany forever. “I’ve never felt so helpless. It must have been the same for the other colleagues.”
At that time there was no special unit, no snipers, no anti-terrorist experts. Rather, the deployed police officers picked up old steel helmets. It was asked who among the ranks had a hunting license. “It was terrible,” says Martin Textor. “These Olympic Games changed me forever. Something like this must never happen again. That’s why I became a police officer.”
A SEK was already being set up in Berlin at that time. The police chief at the time, Klaus Hübner, knew what he needed – snipers and hand-to-hand combatants. Textor wanted to be there. Absolutely. He asked his wife and she gave him the okay.
About 50 men belonged to the new and secret troop at the end of 1972. “It was all in its infancy. First we had to think about what we needed. In terms of equipment, weapons and technology,” says the pensioner. “We had to build structures. In Munich, Interior Minister Genscher, as the top representative, negotiated with the hostage-takers. Of course, something like that doesn’t work because then there is no escalation level upwards.”
When it came to martial arts, too, everyone on the mat looked at one another at a loss. “’What are we actually doing?’ we asked ourselves. We had judo fighters, karate men and boxers. So we chose the most important thing from everything and developed our own style.”
Big jobs were still missing
All that was missing were the big stakes. There was already an opponent in Berlin – the June 2nd Movement. This left-wing extremist group carried out bomb attacks, robbed banks and kidnapped functionaries from politics and business.
The CDU top candidate Peter Lorenz was kidnapped on Quermatenweg in Zehlendorf in 1975, thereby freeing several imprisoned terrorists. At some point there was a clue to these kidnappers, which led to a building being demolished in Tegel.
“We watched the house for three months, slept on air mattresses.” But the patience paid off – one night at 4 a.m. Textor was woken up by a teammate: “Du Martin, two guys went into the house.” Little later Textor and his team stood in front of the door and he spoke the words: “Attention, this is the SEK. I suggest you come out. You don’t have a great chance.” The terrorists surrendered – both had live pistols in their waistbands.
Textor graduated from the police academy as the best in class. As a reward, he was allowed to choose his future use. He wanted to stay with the SEK. And it stayed. From 1998 to 2005 he was even head of all Berlin special units and retired with the rank of senior director. He started out as a sergeant.
He and “his” boys have saved the lives of numerous people over the years. He can’t remember any of them. But to the little five-year-old Vietnamese who had been kidnapped by criminal Asians in Berlin. The photo of her hung in his command post for days throughout the operation.
And whenever he looked at the picture, Textor said softly: “We’ll free you. unharmed. I promise.” He kept his word.