Warsaw. A member of the Nazi Party since 1935, as time passed Hosenfeld grew disillusioned with the party and its policies, especially as he saw how Poles, and especially Jews, were treated. He and several fellow German Army officers felt sympathy for all peoples of occupied Poland. Ashamed of what some of their countrymen were doing, they offered help to those they could whenever possible. Hosenfeld befriended numerous Poles and even made an effort to learn their language. He also attended Mass, received Holy Communion, and went to confession in Polish churches, even though this was forbidden. His actions on behalf of Poles began as early as autumn 1939, when against regulations he allowed Polish prisoners of war access to their families and even pushed successfully for the early release of at least one. During his time in Warsaw, Hosenfeld used his position to give refuge to people, regardless of their background, including at least one politically persecuted anti-Nazi ethnic German, who were in danger of persecution, even arrest by the Gestapo, sometimes by getting them the papers they needed and jobs at the sports stadium that was under his oversight. Hosenfeld surrendered to the Soviets at Błonie, a small Polish city about 30 km west of Warsaw, with the men of a Wehrmacht company he was leading. Imprisonment and death He was sentenced to 25 years of hard labor for alleged war crimes, on account of his unit affiliation. In a 1946 letter to his wife in West Germany, Hosenfeld named the Jews whom he had saved and begged her to contact them and ask them to arrange his release. In 1950, the pianist Władysław Szpilman learned the name of the German officer who had offered him assistance in 1944. After much soul searching, Szpilman sought the intercession of a man whom he privately considered "a bastard", Jakub Berman, the head of the Polish secret police. Several days later, Berman paid a visit to Szpilman's home and said that there was nothing he could do. He added, "If your German were still in Poland, then we could get him out. But our comrades in the Soviet Union won't let him go. They say your officer belonged to a detachment involved in spying – so there is nothing we can do about it as Poles, and I am powerless". Szpilman never believed Berman's claims of powerlessness. In an interview with