Casefile True Crime - Case 171: The Gladbeck Hostage Crisis

Episode Date: April 10, 2021

On August 19 1988, two armed offenders entered a branch of the Deutsche Bank in Gladbeck, West Germany with the intention of holding it up. Hans-Jürgen Rösner and Dieter Degowski planned to steal a large sum of money, then make a quick getaway. --- Special thanks to Stef for her assistance in the creation of this episode Narration – Anonymous Host Research – Milly Raso and Erin Munro Writing – Erin Munro Creative direction – Milly Raso Production and music – Mike Migas Music – Andrew D.B. Joslyn For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-171-the-gladbeck-hostage-crisis

Our episodes deal with serious and often distressing incidents. If you feel at any time you need support, please contact your local crisis centre. For suggested phone numbers for confidential support, please see the show notes for this episode on your app or on our website. At 7.45 on the morning of Tuesday, August 16, 1988, 23-year-old Andrea Blecker was preparing to start her day in the west of German town of Glatbeck. She worked as a customer service representative at a branch of the Deutsche Bank, which was housed in a rectangular two-storey, brown brick building near the town centre.

Glatbeck sat in the western state of North Rhine-Westphalia and had become a popular coal mining centre in the previous century. By the mid-1960s, that industry was on the decline and the town had been battling high unemployment levels ever since. As she approached the bank, Andrea greeted a 34-year-old colleague who worked as a teller and was also making his way towards the building. As the two of them reached the bank's glass doors, two masked men appeared out of nowhere. Both were carrying revolvers.

The men forced both bank employees into the building at gunpoint and threatened to shoot them. Inside, the bank was quiet and empty. It hadn't opened yet and there was no one else around. The gunman made it clear that this was an armed robbery and demanded a large sum of money. Having been trained to handle this exact situation, the two clerks provided them with 120,000 German marks.

The hold-up was going perfectly for the robbers. They had their money and the early hour made it likely that they'd escape quickly and without detection. Right outside, a witness had spotted the crime in progress and called the police. By 8.04am, officers had been dispatched to the scene and were lying in wait. As the two offenders made their way to the bank's front doors with their stolen loot, they spotted the police car parked nearby. Hastily, the two men retreated back inside.

They needed a new plan to secure their exit without getting arrested. They decided to take the two bank employees hostage. Robbing a bank had been an impromptu plan for the two men who were now hunkered down inside the Deutsche Bank. The leader of the pair was a notorious local criminal named Hans Jürgen Rosner. He'd had his first brush with the law at the age of 14 and had a reputation for violent behaviour and a domineering personality. After being convicted of robbery and assault, he'd spent 11 years in prison.

During his incarceration, he stabbed a guard in the neck and had a couple more years added to his sentence. Eventually, he was released on parole, but had disappeared after going on the run. Local law enforcement had been keeping an eye out for him ever since, to no avail. Rosner was now 31 years old, with a scruffy beard and messy brown hair that was longer in the back but receding at the front. A yellow tank top exposed his heavily tattooed arms and he wore baggy blue jeans. He'd spent the previous night drinking with his accomplice, 32-year-old Dieter Degovsky.

The two men had met at school and were lifelong friends. Degovsky had a quieter, more nervous personality but a similarly substantial rap sheet. Like Rosner, he had receding brown hair, a beard and numerous tattoos, though his were concealed by a long-sleeved checked shirt. At six that morning, at the end of their all-night drinking session, the two friends had suddenly decided to try their luck at robbing a bank. They'd made their way into town on a moped and waited until they spotted the two Deutsche Bank employees.

Then, they struck. Now, caught off guard by the arrival of police, Rosner and Degovsky frantically concocted a backup plan. They would let officers know they were holding people captive and negotiate a deal in exchange for their freedom. The men made contact with the police via the bank's telephone and informed them that they had guns and two hostages. Their victims would only be freed if police supplied a BMW getaway car and an additional

300,000 German marks in small denominations. To prove that they had weapons and should be considered dangerous, they fired their revolver through the bank's windows, shattering the glass. To prevent officers storming the building and thwarting their plan, Rosner and Degovsky forced their two hostages into the bank's bulletproof cash office, then followed them in. The police responded by bringing in a psychologist to call the bank and try to talk the men into revealing their identities.

Rosner and Degovsky called on to the ploy and refused to speak to the police any further. Instead, they demanded to speak to the bank's director and ordered that he organize the car and ransom money himself. Despite the robbers' refusal to name themselves, police were able to ID Hans Jürgen Rosner and deduced correctly that his accomplice was his longtime friend, Dieter Degovsky. Mindful that both men were known for being volatile and dangerous, they decided their best course of action was to go along with their demands. It took them a while to organize the cash.

Before handing it over, police treated the banknotes with a solution that would leave traces on whoever handled it. That way, they'd have evidence pointing to the culprits when they managed to arrest them. The process was a lengthy one, adding to the high stress of the urgent situation. While police scrambled to get the funds ready, the men continued to call the bank's director, demanding to know why it hadn't arrived yet. Tensions further increased when police realized they couldn't source a BMW as the robbers' getaway car.

The only vehicles available were Audi's. Rosner and Degovsky grew increasingly anxious as they waited, and the police became nervous that they might lash out against their hostages. Time continued to pass as law enforcement struggled to meet the robbers' demands. By 2pm, the hostages had been holed up inside the bank with their captors for more than six hours. By now, the press had caught wind of the story. Word had filtered out that there was an ongoing standoff between two armed robbers and the

police at the Glatbeck Deutsche Bank. The journalists didn't know the identity of the criminals and scrambled desperately for a scoop. It was quickly discovered that the police hadn't blocked the bank's phone number so anyone could dial in. A journalist phoned and his call was met by a male voice. When the journalist asked who he was speaking to, the man on the other end of the line replied, the bank robber.

When asked if they wanted anything other than the money in the car, the robber explained that they also wanted two sets of handcuffs. Realizing that this likely meant the two men had no intention of freeing the bank clerks, the journalist asked, what do you need handcuffs for? That means you are not planning to let the hostages go as soon as the demands are fulfilled. The robber replied, not initially, we want to take them with us. When asked where they planned to go, the robber responded sarcastically, I'm not going to tell you.

The journalist warned that they'd be followed wherever they went. The robber replied, conversation is over, then abruptly hung up. A radio station was also able to get through to the bank's phone and conducted an impromptu on-air interview with the robbers, one of them stated, from here on, I only want to speak through the media. Finally, the money was ready. It had been wrapped up in three plastic bundles, a police officer prepared to deliver it. He stripped off his clothes and wore nothing but swimming shorts to prove he was unarmed.

Carrying only the bundle of cash, he moved towards the bank. He placed the ransom money by the front entrance. The robbers forced the mail hostage to collect the parcel. Wearing a sling around his neck, the hostage lay sprawled on the floor of the bank's entrance and yanked the glass door open with one hand. One by one, he picked up the parcels of money and threw them to his captors. Then he closed the door and crawled back inside. Multiple police officers continued to monitor the situation as journalists and television

news crews looked on. The hours continued to pass and there was still no sign of the getaway car. Then, at 8pm, a white four-door Audi 100 sedan pulled up outside the bank. When it wasn't parked in the exact way that the robbers had requested, Rosena demanded that it be moved closer to the building. Then he, Dagovsky and the two bank employees emerged from the bank and filed into the car. The intensity of the situation had captured the nation. Cameraman filmed every moment as the police officers looked on.

By now, officers from one of the state's tactical police units known as the SE car had arrived at the scene. With Rosena behind the wheel, the car pulled away at 9.45pm and drove off into the dark night. The police officers had promised they wouldn't follow, but they immediately gave chase. Unbeknown to the bank robbers, a GPS tracking unit had been installed on the Audi, so SE car officers were able to monitor their movements. Their plan was to follow inconspicuously, hoping that the perpetrators would release

their two hostages along the way. Once they were freed, the police officers could run down the felons more safely. They weren't the only ones in hot pursuit. Members of the press received tip-offs from their contacts in the police force and also began chasing after the getaway car in earnest. They were always a step or so behind, often arriving at a location where the car had last been seen just after it departed. Wolfgang Schoenig, the Deutsche Bank's director, was worried.

Ever since the robbers had decided they no longer wanted to negotiate with police, he had been acting as their mediator and had spoken to Rosner on the phone numerous times. After receiving the ransom money, Rosner had assured Wolfgang they would be releasing his two employees as soon as it was safe to do so. But now Wolfgang feared that as long as the robbers were being followed, they would refuse to let the hostages go. Wolfgang begged the police to give up their chase, but they refused, assuring him they were following from a safe distance and there was no way that their targets had any idea.

Then at one stage, the bank robbers pulled into a service station. The police were close behind. To their surprise, Rosner walked straight up to an officer and stole his gun. Now he and his accomplice had a total of three firearms. After leaving the bank, Rosner and Dagovsky weren't sure where to turn. They'd made a beeline for the auto barn, a highway system that spanned across the entire country, but they could see that they were being followed by police and the media. For a while, they drove around aimlessly with no destination in mind.

Suddenly, Rosner was struck with an idea. He would stop by the home of his girlfriend, 34-year-old Marion Lerblik, and pick her up so she could accompany them. After getting in the car, Lerblik suggested that they go to Bremen, a city 238km northeast of Gladbeck, where some of her relatives lived. It was a significant journey that could take up to three hours to complete. Rosner and Dagovsky agreed and got back on the auto barn. As they drove, they turned on the car radio.

Stations were providing news updates about their escape and police efforts to track them. After a while, the group stopped at another service station so that everyone could get some food. As Rosner, Dagovsky and Lerblik sat at one table eating, the two hostages sat side by side at another. Undercover officers watched from the very next table. One at a time, Rosner and Dagovsky got up and went to the bathroom. Unwilling to provoke the armed men, the police remained seated and made no attempt to follow

them. Eventually, the group got up, piled back into the wide arty, and drove off once again. The police continued to follow the bank robbers as they made their way towards Bremen, but it was members of the media who managed to stay right on their tail. After making several stops along the way, the robbers and their hostages arrived at their destination on the morning of Wednesday, August 17. Still armed, Rosner and his girlfriend Marion Lerblik went shopping, while Dagovsky stayed with the hostages.

Rosner purchased a suit and unsuccessfully tried to hire a car in an attempt to switch to a vehicle that law enforcement wouldn't recognize. Back at the car, Dagovsky had consumed a mix of alcohol and pills, and the combination caused him to doze off. Twenty-three-year-old hostage Andrea Blecker noticed that he'd left his gun on a partition between the seats. She and her colleague contemplated snatching the weapon while Dagovsky slept, but were terrified of getting caught.

They decided not to risk it. Rosner returned to the car after an hour and escorted Andrea to a nearby greengrocer. He instructed her to call the police from the store's phone and relay a message on his behalf. The press made no secret of the fact that they were following their every move. A crowd of journalists, photographers and camera crews swarmed around the greengrocer as Andrea picked up the phone and did as she was told. Speaking to a police officer, she complained about law enforcement following them, saying

that their unrelenting pursuit of the group was the reason she and her colleague were still being held hostage. Andrea added that they both trusted their abductors more than law enforcement and warned that if either of them were killed, the police would be to blame. Rosner then snatched the phone from Andrea and demanded to speak with the task force's top brass. The relevant officers weren't present at the time and Rosner's request was not met. Just as Rosner was attempting to reach out to them again, he spotted a nearby car that

he suspected held undercover officers. He became enraged and impulsively grabbed one of the greengrocers' customers, taking them prisoner as well. He and Dagovsky then marched their hostages across the road to a nearby bus stop. News crews filmed them and their movements were broadcast live to viewers all over the country. Police remained reluctant to intervene, worried that if they attempted to make an arrest, innocent people could end up being killed.

By now, it had been almost 36 hours since Rosner and Dagovsky had set out to rob a bank. The two men were sustaining themselves with amphetamines and pills. They also drank beer constantly. They were growing increasingly desperate to escape and felt a faster getaway car was their only chance to allude those pursuing them. The two men decided they needed a bigger bargaining chip in order to negotiate with the authorities. Idling at the bus stop across the road from the greengrocers was a red public transit bus. Sitting inside was the driver and 25 passengers, ranging from children to the elderly.

At approximately 7pm, Rosner and Dagovsky climbed aboard with the two bank hostages and pointed their firearms at the passengers, announcing that they were hijacking the bus. The people on board were confused as to what exactly was going on. Passengers Stephanie Hinspeider thought that they must have been filming a crime show or a program where pranks were played on unsuspecting members of the public. Rosner and Dagovsky had ordered the bank hostages to sit in a pair of seats. One of them sat 18-year-old Ines Voitla and her friend, Silke Bischoff. Ines was confused.

Like Stephanie, she wondered if the entire thing was part of a low-budget movie. But when she took a closer look at the hostages sitting in front of her, she saw how distraught they looked. After that, she decided to stay quiet and lie low for her own protection. Hostages from Bremen's SE car unit were still reluctant to directly intervene. They'd been ordered to avoid any actions that could place the hostages in danger. According to one responding officer, that pretty much meant that we weren't able to do anything at all.

In a bizarre twist of fate, the unit had wanted to practice responding to a hostage situation on a bus several weeks earlier. Unfortunately, the drill hadn't gone ahead due to being too expensive to coordinate. While the police stood back and kept a close eye on things, the many journalists who were present descended on the bus stop. For them, the chance to cover a crime in real time with no interference from police was an incredible once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Tegovsky stayed on the bus, but Rosena disembarked, seeming to relish the media attention.

Journalists thrust microphones and cameras at his face. The startling update was broadcast to viewers at home. Camera crews and photographers boarded the bus to get close-up angles of the situation on board. Journalists watched on as the media documented their ordeal, but made no attempt to assist them. Tegovsky posed for the cameras with a smirk on his face as he casually held his pistol in one hand.

Rosena's girlfriend, Marion Lerblik, was carrying the third firearm. In their frenzy to be the first to break the story, some journalists mistakenly claimed that a police officer was among the now 28 hostages. Bremen's mayor, Klaus Wiedermeister, had arrived at the increasingly chaotic scene and appeared on camera. He criticized the media's coverage of the dangerous situation, stating, I think you've crossed a line. As soon as his interview concluded, reporters returned their attention to the bank robbers.

Rosena gave an impromptu press conference just outside the bus. He held a pistol in his right hand as he spoke to reporters. When asked why he had decided to rob the bank in the first place, he simply replied, I don't have any morals, there is no other work for me, I want to live my life. His face was blank as he said, my buddy is very dangerous, this will be the end, I already sat 13 years in prison, I don't give a shit for my whole life. Then he mimed suicide by placing the nozzle of the gun in his mouth. About 15 minutes after the bus was hijacked, some of the passengers had had enough.

They weren't sure what was happening, but the presence of the media gave the situation a surreal feel. There was little sense of fear, even though they'd been threatened with guns. Four elderly passengers and one child disembarked the vehicle, with one woman pausing to ask some journalists if she was allowed to do so. They gave her permission and she continued on her way. Neither Rosna nor Degofsky tried to stop any of them from leaving. One of the elderly passengers later told the press, I simply stood up, no one stopped me.

Live footage of the ongoing crisis was streamed throughout evening news programs. The entire country was captivated. A press photographer named Peter Meyer took on the role of messenger, acting as a go-between between the bank robbers and the police. Rosna was now asking for a faster car free from tracking devices, another 300,000 to 400,000 marks, an extra set of handcuffs, and a police officer whose hands were bound. In exchange for these things, he and Degofsky would release all of the hostages on the bus. If their demands were not met, Rosna said they would blow up the bus.

The photographer shared these demands with the press before passing them on to police. Officers watched from a safe distance. They were reluctant to provide one of their own as a hostage, given the perpetrator's obvious dislike of law enforcement. By this time, snipers had been dispatched to the scene and were hiding nearby with a perfect view of the bus stop. They were just waiting for the right moment to strike and the permission to do so. It was never granted.

Although the bank robbers were often in their sights while the hostages remained safely on the bus, a local law prevented so-called rescue shooting. Rosna continued chatting with the media, who occasionally lit cigarettes for him. He appeared relaxed and seemed to enjoy his sudden celebrity status. At one stage, he left his pistol lying across his lap as he spoke to reporters. But eventually, he got tired of relaying his demands via a messenger and demanded that the police speak to him directly. Peter Meyer begged some officers to do so, but they refused.

Instead, they gave him a radio that Rosna could use to speak to them. Rosna tried to use the radio, but it didn't work. He became infuriated and his rage only increased when he spotted what he thought was a police officer in the window of a nearby building. Rosna stormed onto the bus and grabbed one of the hostages, 18-year-old Silke Bischoff. Silke was a court stenographer and a trainee at a law firm situated in Bremen. She'd finished work an hour early that day, but had waited for her friend and colleague Ines Voetler to finish so they could catch the bus home together.

Rosna pulled Silke off the bus, then dragged her in front of the police and media as he pressed his gun to her head and shouted, You motherfucker, fuck off or it is going to fire up in here. Rosna then shot in the direction of the window and added, This is the last warning, the next one is going to fly out of the bus. The commotion drew more onlookers to the scene. By now daylight was fading and it was growing dark. Rosna continued trying to use the police radio, but it had very poor reception.

The demands he barked into it were going ignored. Frustrated by the lack of response from police, Rosna grabbed another hostage. This time he chose an 8-year-old girl named Tatiana DeGiorgi who had been riding the bus with her 15-year-old brother Emanuella. Their family was Italian and had migrated to West Germany in the hopes of a better, more prosperous life. Rosna used Tatiana as a protective shield, holding the gun to her head as he screamed, What is going on now, you motherfucker, you cowardly pigs.

The only other sound aside from his voice was the click of cameras as photographers snapped shots of the disturbing scene. News crews captured Tatiana standing there, dressed in a dark colored skirt, a striped long-sleeved top and a white headband in her long dark hair. She looked frightened as she clutched a red bag to her chest. Rosna handed the police radio to Peter Meyer and gave him a new message to pass on. He wanted a new radio and would drive the bus around the block until it was ready. Peter ran back to the police to update them.

He explained that he'd tried to convince Rosna to leave the hostages and use his car instead, but he declined. At 10pm, Rosna and DeGovsky had finally had enough of waiting. They took command of the bus and it pulled away from the small shopping strip. An investigator later reflected. It was pretty much the turning point with no peaceful ending to hope for. Peter Meyer decided to get in his car and follow them. As he had a car phone, he dialed a number some officers had given him that was supposed

to connect him with the case's operation controllers. The call failed to go through. Peter wasn't sure whether the police had made a mistake when giving him the number, if they deliberately provided the wrong one. The bus steered back on the autobahn and began heading northeast. Tatiana DeGeorgi sat on the lap of her older brother, Emanuella. He did his best to keep her calm by whispering assurances, telling her, Don't be scared, I'll protect you.

After travelling almost 40km, the bank robbers pulled over at a highway service station. Marion Lerblik needed to use the bathroom and Rosna and DeGovsky decided it would be a good idea to also buy some food and alcohol. The journalists pursuing the vehicle quickly realised what was going on and stopped at the rest stop as well. While Lerblik made her way to the bathroom, DeGovsky disembarked the bus for the first time since he and his accomplice had commandeered it. To protect himself, he took hostage Silke Bischoff with him, holding a gun to her throat.

If Silke feared for her life, she refused to show it. She remained stoic as reporters gathered around her and DeGovsky and pointed microphones at her armed captor while peppering him with questions. When one journalist asked if he was really willing to kill people, DeGovsky simply replied, Yes. Silke was interviewed as well. When a reporter asked how she felt, she responded, Actually pretty good considering the circumstances, I don't really get it.

She couldn't imagine that DeGovsky would really shoot her, despite his constant threats. They seemed empty and hollow. He'd had his chance to harm others, but had opted to avoid a bloodshed and, in some cases, let hostages go. A journalist even interviewed press photographer Peter Meier, who had inadvertently become a part of the story since acting as the robber's messenger. Peter was concerned that police were not handling the situation well. First, they'd refused to send an officer in to communicate with the two culprits.

Then they'd provided radios that didn't work well, and a phone number that failed to connect. I really don't know what the police are thinking, Peter worried aloud. Peter was also anxious about the two bank employees who'd been held captive since the previous morning, more than 38 hours earlier. The length of their ordeal meant they were battling stress and exhaustion. He convinced Rosna and DeGovsky to release them in exchange for him and a colleague taking their place. Both employees looked extremely relieved as they were freed from the bus and permitted

to leave. Andrea Blecker later told the media that she'd kept hoping she would be let go, but had resigned herself to the possibility of being shot instead. Journalists weren't the only observers who'd gathered at the scene. Some police officers had arrived, too, and were debating whether or not to finally act. Hans Jürgen Rosner's girlfriend, Marianne Lerblik, had walked from the bus to a public rest room. She'd taken a female hostage with her and had made sure to carry her gun.

Two policemen thought they could overpower her. They hadn't sought or received permission from their higher-ups to attempt an arrest, but the opportunity seemed too good to resist. Another officer confirmed that they should go ahead with the spontaneous plan, telling his colleagues, if it is possible, get her. Four officers stood outside the bathroom and waited. When they saw Lerblik walk out, they pounced. Two policemen grappled with her.

As she started to scream, one placed his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. They successfully wrestled Lerblik to the ground and removed her weapon before slapping handcuffs on her wrists. Now they had one of the three wanted individuals in their custody. But some were baffled by their decision. A reporter later asked the question, why would you catch the most harmless person out of the three while the other two idiots remained armed in the bus with the hostages? Meanwhile, Rosna and Degovsky were waiting for Lerblik to return.

Minutes ticked by, and still there was no sign of her. A visit to the bathroom shouldn't have taken this long. Then Rosna heard what sounded like his girlfriend screaming. Adorned on the two bank robbers that she must have been apprehended. Rosna was furious. He began ranting. They shouldn't have done this, these pigs, these goddamn pigs, these bastards. Speaking through photographer Peter Meyer, he issued an ultimatum.

Return his girlfriend in five minutes, or he would shoot a hostage. A fierce debate ensued between the police officers present. Not wanting to risk the lives of the hostages, one policeman insisted that Lerblik be released and sent back to her accomplices. But the two who'd arrested her were reluctant to send her back. After some back and forth, they eventually agreed that they couldn't ignore Rosna's demands. One was running out, and the risk was too great.

The key to Lerblik's handcuffs was fetched, and the police prepared to let her go. Just as one of the officers went to turn the key, it snapped and broke off inside the lock. Now broken, the key was useless, and the handcuffs couldn't be removed. The police would have to find another way to remove them, but the five minutes Rosna had allotted were almost up. Peter Meyer was quickly sent over to the bus to alert the bank robbers that Lerblik was on her way. Meanwhile, the police scrambled to remove her handcuffs.

Back on the bus, tensions were mounting. Five minutes had passed since Rosna demanded the return of his girlfriend. Peter Meyer had shared the police message that Lerblik would be coming back soon, but there was no sign of her. In a rage, Rosna turned to eight-year-old hostage Tatiana de Georgie, grabbed her arm, and dragged her away from her brother. He pointed his gun at her head. Manuela rushed over and tried to pull his younger sister to safety.

Dieter Degofsky turned around to face the two siblings and aimed his gun. Then, he pulled the trigger and fired three times. All of the hostages began screaming. Tatiana saw her brother crumple in front of her and fall to the floor. He had been shot in the head. One minute later, Marion Lerblik boarded the bus, having been released by the police officers. Having shot a hostage, Rosna and Degofsky were once again eager to hit the road. With Lerblik returned to them, there was nothing left to wait for.

The two men pulled Manuela de Georgie's body from the bus and dumped it at the highway rest stop, before speeding away from the scene with their hostages. The journalists who were covering the unfolding story found Manuela's body. He was clad in denim jeans and a white t-shirt soaked in blood. He looked lifeless, but a check of his vital signs revealed he was still alive, despite sustaining three shots to the head. Two press photographers dragged his body to safety. News crews filmed them doing so, broadcasting live footage of the wounded and unconscious

15-year-old across the country. One of the photographers held up Manuela's head so that the crew could get a better angle of his face. At the service station, an attendant phoned for an ambulance. It took 20 minutes to arrive. During the wait, Manuela bled to death. Along with 24 other hostages, his little sister was still on board the bus with the men who killed him.

The bus careened along the autobahn as the bank robbers headed south-west. Rosner had decided they should leave northwest Germany and make their way to the border with the Netherlands. He'd heard that police in the neighbouring country were friendlier than those in west Germany and hoped that they might go easier on them. Some journalists were still enthusiastically pursuing them, following the bus in their cars and taxis. Driving in vehicles behind the media were numerous police officers.

To their frustration, they couldn't get close to the bus due to the row of cars in front. At one stage, as many as four press vehicles were driving side-by-side along the autobahn, making it impossible for the police to overtake them. Despite the fact that law enforcement was prevented from reaching the bus, Rosner and Dagovsky made their hostages stand throughout the journey, just in case the police decided to shoot through the windows. At one point, a taxi carrying a journalist veered slightly too close to the bus.

This enraged Rosner. He aimed his gun and fired through a window, shattering the glass. Western police officers attempted to overtake the reporters and hone in on the bus. They collided with a truck. One policeman was killed and two others were injured in the collision. West German police had caught on to the bank robbers' plan to flee to the Netherlands and notified customs officials who closed the border. While the bus would be permitted to cross, the journalists following it would not.

At about 2.30am on Thursday, August 18, the bus reached the border. The two bank robbers crossed over into the Netherlands and parked the bus in a remote forest near the town of Oldenzaal. Dutch police officers were waiting for them. They quickly informed Rosner and Degofsky that they would not enter into any negotiations with them as long as they were holding children hostage. A standoff ensued. After almost three hours, the two bank robbers finally agreed to release the children.

At 5.15am, three children, including Tatiana de Georgie and two women, were allowed to disembark the bus. Now, the Dutch police were willing to negotiate. Rosner and Degofsky wanted a new vehicle, a high-powered BMW. If they received that, then they would free even more hostages. German police said about preparing a dark grey BMW 735i. Unbeknownst to the bank robbers, they arranged it so that the vehicle's engine could be stopped via a remote control in their possession.

Although customs officials had closed the border, some journalists had been able to sneak across via back roads and alternate routes. Hundreds of German and Dutch reporters had descended on the scene to report live and snap more photographs of the ongoing crisis. Dutch police were keeping a close eye on the bus and had orders to apprehend if the perpetrators attempted violence. Then, Rosner's gun accidentally went off and a lerblich was hit in the leg. Thinking he was purposely shooting, officers started firing back.

Police flung themselves to the floor as bullets rained on the bus. Rosner began screaming into the police radio he'd been given. That was not against you, had happened accidentally. Eventually, police ceased fire and the air fell silent. The bus was now riddled with bullets. Due to the damage and the fact they were getting a new getaway car, Rosner and Dagovsky agreed to free almost all of their 20 remaining hostages. However, they still wanted to hold on to two of them as a precaution.

They selected 18-year-old Franz, Silke Bischoff and Enos Voetler. At 6.30am, the BMW was delivered. The men forced Silke and Enos inside, along with Marion Lerblich. Then they sped off once again. Initially, they headed west towards Amsterdam, the capital of the Netherlands, with Dutch investigators in hot pursuit. But then they suddenly turned and began making their way back towards west Germany. Just after 7am, they crossed over the German border.

They raced through the state of North Rhine-Westfalia until they reached the city of Cologne. Cologne is the fourth most popular city in Germany. Due to heavy bombing during World War II, it required significant reconstruction during the post-war years through to the late 20th century. By the end of the 1980s, the rebuilding of Cologne's most famous landmarks was almost complete. When the bank robbers and their hostages reached the city, it was mid-morning on Thursday, August 18.

Once again, they had been followed by an entourage of journalists and police. As soon as they parked their car in a popular shopping district at the city's centre, they were surrounded by reporters. Curious onlookers who'd heard reports that the country's most wanted felons had arrived in town also congregated in the area to catch a glimpse. The hostage situation and associated media circus made for a strange sight on the busy city streets. Pedestrians were bustling about, and nearby, a folk band was busking.

Rosner got out of the car and walked to a nearby bakery where he purchased some bread rolls. Then he headed back to the BMW and sat behind the wheel next to his girlfriend. Dozens and dozens of journalists had swarmed around the BMW, some leaning across its bonnet and pressing against its sides. The air inside the car grew stuffy as bodies crowded around it. Microphones and cameras were shoved through the open windows. The journalists surrounding the car inadvertently provided a protective barrier and made it impossible

for police to approach. Dagowski remained in the back of the vehicle, wedged between silka and enus, while chain smoking cigarettes and casually holding a pistol in his right hand. Occasionally he used a pair of binoculars to peer out the rear window, keeping his eyes peeled for police. When a reporter asked Rosner what they were doing in the city, silka sarcastically quipped from the back seat, visiting the Cathedral of Cologne. Rosner explained that they had been thwarted at every turn by German police refusing to

negotiate. Marion Lerblik expressed her regret that Emanuella de Georgie had been killed, but blamed law enforcement for detaining her instead of the two men. She insisted that they were looking after silka and enus, adding, We are not harming them, and we don't want to harm them. Rosner was aware that he and Dagowski would be facing enormous ramifications for murdering Emanuella. He expressed his frustration at the now two-day ordeal, but said that if the police tried

to arrest them, they would kill both hostages, then take their own lives. He placed the barrel of the gun in his mouth to prove how serious he was. Dagowski agreed with his accomplice, stating, We aren't going to negotiate with police anymore, because we know that leads to nothing. I want to say through the news media that the police should back off. As he chatted with the journalists, he nonchalantly pressed his gun to silka's neck and head. At one point, a reporter complained that he hadn't gotten the picture he wanted and demanded, Hold the gun to her temple again, I don't have a photograph yet.

Silka still looked calm, and occasionally even managed to give a small smile. Only her wide eyes occasionally betrayed a hint of alarm. When a reporter asked Silka how she was holding up, she said she was fine. However, she was worried that the police would ignore the bank robbers' demands, which could lead to another person being killed. She pleaded, Just do what they request and don't try to interfere, I'm scared of that. The two bank robbers gave interview after interview. Reporters helped them by supplying cups of coffee and attempting to negotiate on their

behalf, suggesting they trade their hostages for police officers. When plain clothes officers were sent over in the hopes they might be able to get closer than their uniformed counterparts, some journalists pointed them out to the bank robbers. Rosna was queried as to what would happen if the police attempted anything. He simply answered, Then there's going to be a blood bath here. Earlier that morning, Udu Raubel, the deputy editor of the Cologne Daily Express, had headed to his local tennis club for a friendly game. He'd taken some time off from work and hadn't watched television or listened to the radio

for a couple of days. As Raubel headed into the club's cafeteria, his attention was drawn to a TV set showing the morning news. For the first time, he learned of the events that had gripped west to Germany over the past two days. Realising he was missing out on one of the country's biggest stories, he raced to his car and headed downtown. Soon, he'd joined the enormous crowd of reporters gathered around the bank robbers' BMW.

Raubel managed to push his way to the car to speak with Rosna and Degofsky directly. He soon established a rapport with the bank robbers. He could tell that both men were growing increasingly agitated and the situation was becoming more dangerous with every passing second. Raubel tried to create some space around the vehicle. He began waving his arms, motioning to the other journalists around him to move back. When they were reluctant to do so, he tried pushing them away. Some of the undercover officers in the crowd began wondering if now was their moment to

strike. One officer had succeeded in getting within touching distance of the bank robbers and thought an arrest could be possible, but they suspected the risk was still too great. All of a sudden, Rosna leapt from the car and aimed his gun at the crowd. Anxiously, he turned to Udo Raubel and asked how to get to the Autobahn, adding, We've got to get out of here now, my buddy is about to lose it completely. Raubel began describing the fastest route, but Rosna was impatient. He asked Raubel to get in the car and direct them there himself.

Raubel was uncertain. The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control and there was every possibility it could end in disaster. However, he also realized that this was a unique opportunity to cover the story in a way none of the other journalists could. In a split second, Raubel had made up his mind. He climbed into the back seat of the car and took a seat next to Silke Bischoff. Rosna slowly pulled the car away from the crowd and left the crowded city streets, following

Raubel's directions to the Autobahn. Raubel chatted openly as they drove. He assumed that police had bugged the car and hoped he might be able to coke some useful information out of the two felons. But his attempts at conversation annoyed Degovsky. He pointed his gun at the journalist and demanded that he shut up. After that, the group travelled in silence. The bank robbers had no particular destination in mind as they spared in a southeast direction.

Although driving along the Autobahn left them exposed, it also allowed them to monitor those who were following them. Yet again, the press and the police were hot on the bank robbers' heels. Between 20 and 30 vehicles were following the BMW. Law enforcement arranged for the Autobahn to be shut down in one direction so no one else could join the chase. After about 40 minutes, the BMW reached a service station outside the city of Ziegborg. Rosna and Degovsky pulled over and kicked Raubel out of the car, having got what they

needed from him. The journalist stood watching as the BMW took off again. When news crews arrived at the location shortly after, they conducted a live interview with him. He described Degovsky as, completely on the edge, exhausted and ready for anything. He said that he has nothing to lose. He shot a 15-year-old and is not going to prison for a life sentence. There is going to be a bloodbath if the police don't leave them alone.

He asked me to pass this on to the police and press. As he spoke, Raubel suddenly felt himself go weak at the knees. The reality of what had happened and the fact that he could have been killed, suddenly sunk in. He was notified that police officers were on their way to obtain a statement from him, but all he could think about was the article he planned to write detailing his experience. The BMW continued along the Autobahn. Rosna was driving south, straight towards the neighbouring state of Rhineland, Palatinate.

As they drove, Degovsky leaned over and whispered in hostage Enos's ear that they were sorry for having taken them, especially given the girl's young age. He told her that he and Rosna would pull over somewhere and release them once they were in the next state and a night had fallen. Enos and Silke felt a sense of relief. They relaxed enough to sip on some cans of beer as the car travelled along the highway, with the two girls drinking a toast to her happy ending. Your enforcement was still in hot pursuit.

By now, it had been 54 hours since the bank holed up in Gladbeck and patience was wearing thin. Police had missed one opportunity after another to apprehend the bank robbers. The fact that they'd killed a 15-year-old in cold blood proved how dangerous they were. An order had finally been sent from operational headquarters, dictating that they mustn't be allowed to flee to any more cities. The perpetrators must be apprehended as soon as possible. The leader of Cologne's SE car unit objected, believing that the risk to the hostages was

still too great, but he was overruled. Several armoured Mercedes were dispatched with the aim of intercepting the BMW and running it off the road. An ambush site was set up several kilometres from the state line, and just across the border, the Rhineland Paladinate SE car were poised and ready to strike. Before the BMW had been given to Rosna and Dagovsky, police outfitted it with a device that would allow them to cut the engine using a remote control. However, the remote had accidentally been left behind with some other officers who were

further back on the autobahn. It wouldn't work from such a distance, and this meant that they'd had to quickly devise a backup plan. By 1.45pm, the BMW was just a few kilometres from the state border. Helicopters were flying overhead, and hundreds of spectators had gathered on a nearby bridge above the highway to observe the pursuit. Hundreds of journalists were also at the scene, still following the story. On the other side of the highway, drivers had stopped their cars so they could watch

too. Suddenly, officers were given the go-ahead to attack. A grey Mercedes zeroed in on the BMW and rammed it from one side, sending it skidding. Next, police threw flash grenades to stun the felons with blinding flashes of light. The BMW came to a complete stop. Inside, Rosna and Dagovsky began shouting. Silke appeared to sense that something awful was about to happen. Her voice was gripped with fear as she screamed at her friend.

Jump out, Enos. Jump. Enos scrambled to find the handle on the car door nearest to her and yanked it open. She leapt out, then scurried to a nearby ditch and clambered inside. As she lay there, she heard the sound of gunshots ringing out. Rosna, Dagovsky and the police were all shooting at one another. Between 20-30 shots were fired. And finally, there was a heavy silence.

Police had managed to hit Rosna and Dagovsky, subduing both men. When they raced over to the BMW, they found the two felons had sustained significant injuries. Enos Vojla had managed to escape the vehicle and was lying in a ditch by the road. She'd suffered minor injuries, as had Marion Lerblek. Silke Bischoff was still in the back seat of the car. There was a bullet wound in her chest. An officer frantically performed CPR on Silke as medical assistants, helicopters and ambulances sped to the scene.

When they arrived, they rushed to the car while shouting at the police. What have you guys done here? They were unable to revive Silke. She had been shot directly in the heart and had died. Her body was covered with a sheet. Rosna and Dagovsky were quickly handcuffed and forced to lie face down on the road with their noses pressed against the bitumen. Marion Lerblek was also arrested.

Other officers made a beeline towards the many members of the press who were standing nearby, filming and photographing everything. A photographer had his camera snatched from him, with the officer alleging that he was documenting a police investigation without permission. The photographer was warned that he would be arrested if he didn't leave. He managed to hide a roll of film that he'd already shot, but lost the second roll that was still inside the camera. A police spokesperson addressed the press, informing them that a hostage had been killed.

Journalist Udo Rorbell had gone to a local police station to file a report about his time with the bank robbers when he heard the news that Silke Bischoff had died. He felt a sense of shock wash over him, having been seated in the car with both girls not long earlier. When he later went back to his office to finish his article for the following day's paper, he tried to write it from the point of view of Silke, imagining how the last moments of her life played out. Silke Bischoff's parents hadn't even known that their daughter had been taken hostage

until earlier that day. Although she hadn't returned home on Wednesday, August 17, they weren't concerned, as they believed she was staying at her boyfriend's house. They'd only learnt the truth that morning upon seeing the front page of their local newspaper. It showed a photograph of Silke sitting in the back seat of a car with a gun held to her neck. She was tilting her head back, her expression blank, as Dagovsky watched her with a cigarette

hanging from his mouth. After that, her devastated family had monitored every second of the situation. When Silke's mother, Karen, found out her daughter and Dennis were the last two remaining hostages, she became utterly terrified at what might happen next. When the family saw footage of the collision and subsequent shootout on the auto barn, they sat together and prayed for Silke to survive. Two hours later, a police representative dressed entirely in black knocked on their front door. Karen knew then that her daughter had been killed.

She later despaired. I would have helped her if only I knew. I would have jumped on the bus, together with my husband, to protect my daughter. It was determined that Silke had been killed by a bullet from Rosena's gun, which he'd accidentally aimed at her while shooting at the police. But Silke's family held the police equally responsible for their daughter's death. They couldn't understand why officers had opened fire on the bank robber's vehicle when they knew that Silke was inside.

Her mother criticised their actions, quote, she could not survive that. Why did they do that? Why? That will always stay with me, always. The police maintained that Rosena and Dagovsky had started shooting first, leaving them with no option but to return fire. Furthermore, they claimed to have made every effort to protect those inside the vehicle, such as by waiting until the BMW was stationary before ramming it.

But their version of events was disputed by survivor Enos Voitler. In an interview with the magazine Der Spiegel, Enos said that before the deadly confrontation, the mood in the BMW had been upbeat. She and Silke had been assured by their captors that they would be safely home soon. The car had been travelling at 100km per hour when the police's Mercedes suddenly appeared from behind, causing Rosena and Dagovsky to panic. Then the car hid ours. Our car had stopped by the time the gangsters returned the fire.

There was speculation that police from North Rhine-Westphalia had rushed the attack because they wanted to bring the crisis to a conclusion on their own turf. If the bank robbers had managed to flee across the state border, the case would have passed over to law enforcement in Rhineland-Palatinate. On Sunday, August 21, three days after Silke's death, her uncle, Girold Bischoff, appeared at a press conference to announce his family's plans to sue those who ordered the attack. Emmanuella de Georgie's relatives joined them, arguing that the police had provoked the two bank robbers by arresting Marion Lerblik without permission.

A week after the incident, lawyers on behalf of the two families filed criminal negligence suits against police in Bremen and the state of North Rhine-Westphalia. They argued that police had numerous opportunities when they could have intervened and placed the two perpetrators under arrest, but repeatedly failed to do so. The families weren't the only ones who were angry. In the days immediately following the tragedy, a poll was cast in which 1,708 Western Germans were asked for their opinions on the case. 93% of respondents couldn't understand why police hadn't intervened earlier.

One SE car senior official who'd been tasked with handling the crisis was Reiner Kesting. He was furious at the unit's operations management for not allowing his team to strike against Rosna and Degofsky earlier. Management had continually stalled officers on the ground from taking action when the two men were stopped in Cologne for an extended period. Kesting was an experienced officer who'd successfully arrested notorious terrorists in the past. But his dismay at the bungling of the Glatbeck hostage crisis led to his resignation.

Decades later, he finally gave an interview to Focus magazine, in which he stated, I was a coward. I am jointly responsible for the death of Silke Bischoff. A parliamentary inquiry was ordered into the events surrounding the 54-hour long crisis. It found that there had been several times when police missed opportunities to take down the perpetrators, prior to the bus hijack and the deaths of Emmanuella, Silke, and the police officer who was killed during the car chase. There was the time when they stopped at a roadside cafeteria with the two bank employees

and sat at a separate table. Then there was the occasion when Rosna and Ulurblik went shopping for an hour, leaving Degofsky behind with the two hostages. Degofsky had dozed off, but the police surveilling the scene neglected to notice. Martin Thomas, who was part of the investigation committee, later stated, It was very hard to understand the actions of the police. You ask yourself why they didn't do anything earlier, and all of a sudden go into action when the lives of the two girls are at such a high risk.

Some officers defended their actions, saying that it was easy to judge with the benefit of hindsight, but they'd tried everything possible to end the crisis safely. Many people were equally as angry at the media for their role in the event. In a televised interview, the Interior Minister of the state of North Rhine-Westphalia accused the journalists of derailing crucial police operations. He saw the final showdown between law enforcement and the bank robbers as unavoidable, given how drawn out and increasingly dangerous the situation had become. Other politicians echoed his words, with one remarking that it was troubling that,

Two criminals got a public podium through media coverage. Reporters were seen as having encouraged Rosna and Dagovsky in their crimes by giving them attention and notoriety. Ratings later revealed that 13 million people had tuned in to watch their televised interviews. A forensic psychiatrist later speculated that the attention had been gratifying for the two men, who'd never received anything like it before. The head of the country's largest journalist's union described the media's involvement as the darkest hour of German journalism since the end of World War II.

Following the controversial coverage of the crisis, the German press council issued several reprimands and introduced restrictions, such as banning reporters from conducting interviews with perpetrators while they were in the process of committing a crime. Journalist Udu Raubel was offered a new job at one of the country's biggest tabloids. He felt significant guilt for his actions during the Gladbeck crisis. He was especially ashamed of having written a story that focused on the moments leading up to Silke's death, which he described as squeezing the very last drops out of the story. Years later, in an interview with the BBC, Raubel said he'd often wondered if he was

the reporter from hell or simply a human being trying to de-escalate the situation. Ultimately, he concluded that he was both. It was almost one year before Hans Jürgen-Rosner, Dieter Degovsky, and Marion Lerblik first faced court to hear the charges against them. They were each facing two counts of murder and numerous charges of attempted murder, kidnapping, and extortion. Also in the court were the victims' families and survivors of the Gladbeck hostage crisis, who listened intently to the proceedings.

The three defendants' expressions remained blank as each charge was read aloud. It was another two years before their trials went ahead. All three were found guilty on March 22, 1991. Rosner and Degovsky both received life sentences with a minimum of 24 years, while Lerblik was sentenced to nine years. She ultimately served only six and has since been released. The North Rhine Vestphalian Ministry of Justice blocked all requests for interviews with Rosner and Degovsky, but the two have shown no interest in speaking to journalists since the events

of August to 1988. In 2017, news broke that Degovsky had permission to leave prison for day trips. The process was a stage in his rehabilitation and designed to prepare him for being granted conditional parole. Reporters for tabloid papers snapped photographs of him as he strolled through a town, purchasing snacks and soft drinks. He was now 61 years old and was bald with a porgy build. In August 2018, 30 years after the Glatbeck hostage crisis, it was announced that Dieter

Degovsky was being released on parole. He'd been a model prisoner during his incarceration and experts gave him a positive prognosis for rehabilitation. He has since changed his name. That same year, it was announced that Hans-Jürgen Rosner would likely be released in 2019, pending good behavior. Degovsky's parole coincided with the release of a two-episode television drama about the crisis titled, 54 Hours, The Glatbeck Hostage Crisis.

Some survivors and victims' families were dismayed by the timing of the show's release. Johnny had been six years old when the bus he was riding on was hijacked by Rosner and Degovsky. His family had recently moved to West Germany from Schalanker and the experience was incredibly traumatic for the young boy. Now a doctor, he said that he had never quite recovered from the incident. He gave an interview on a late-night talk show, saying that he had no plans to watch the series because it's like a homage to Degovsky, who has now been freed.

Emanuella de Giorgi's family also spoke out against Degovsky's release. His brother, Fabio, now aged 40, stated, He is free while will suffer for a lifetime. I often dream of Emanuella. He's sitting in the bus and then the shot comes and I wake up. Emanuella's sister, Tatiana, who'd witnessed his murder, revealed she could still hear him whispering to her, Don't be scared, I'll protect you. Enos Voitler feared for years that when the men were released they would turn up at her

front door, stating, I will always be a victim of those two guys. In an interview with news magazine De Stern, Silke Bischoff's mother, Karen, spoke of watching the television series. It felt as though she was seeing her daughter again. One of the most difficult parts was seeing the recreation of Degovsky holding a gun to her daughter's neck. In reality, journalists had helped to stage the scene and it resulted in a notorious photograph that was splashed across newspapers in the wake of Silke's death. Karen told the BBC,

Silke was brave, very brave. I wouldn't have coped in the way she did. At the beginning I used to have nightmares because of that picture. I can handle it today, it's still painful, but I don't have to look away now.