Ilse Koch remains one of the most infamous figures to emerge from the Nazi concentration camp system. Known to prisoners as the “Buchenwald Witch” and “Frau Lampshade,” her cruelty was so extreme that it eventually drew the attention of the Third Reich’s highest authorities. Her story is one of sadism, corruption, and a justice system that struggled for decades to hold her accountable.
Born in Dresden in 1906, Ilse was described by those who knew her as a sweet child. Regular visitors to the local library, where she spent much of her free time, even gave her the nickname “Angel.” She trained as an accountant and dreamed of building a stable life for herself.
That ambition took a dark turn in 1934 when she met Karl Koch, a member of the Nazi Party and an SS man. The two felt an immediate connection, and Ilse decided to follow her lover wherever his career would take him.
In 1936, Karl Koch was assigned as commandant of the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. Ilse joined him there two years later, working as an accountant. Karl quickly earned a reputation as one of the worst sadists in the camp system.
He beat prisoners with whips embedded with razor blades, branded them, and tortured them with vices. Ilse watched these acts without outrage. Instead, she absorbed the brutality around her and began to develop her own appetite for cruelty.
In 1937, Karl Koch was transferred to Buchenwald, where he was tasked with building a new concentration camp from the ground up. Ilse followed him there. Prisoners later recalled that they feared Ilse far more than they feared her husband.
She enjoyed taking strolls through the camp, picking out random victims, and beating them half to death with a lash. But this soon was not enough for her.
Ilse acquired a shepherd dog and made it her main pastime to set the animal on prisoners. She took particular pleasure in watching the dog attack pregnant women. She loved observing the terror of her victims as the dog’s fangs tore into their bodies.
It was during this period that prisoners gave her the nicknames “Buchenwald Witch” and the more vulgar “Buchenwald Bitch.”

Her inventiveness only grew. Ilse developed a new hobby of selecting prisoners and sending them to the zoo to be devoured by Himalayan bears that lived there. She would stand at the cage and enjoy the bloody scene as the animals tore her victims apart.
The most disturbing of her hobbies, however, involved needlework. Ilse began selecting prisoners who had tattoos on their bodies. Those selected were killed by lethal injection.
Their skin was then removed, processed, and given to Ilse. She used the human skin to create lampshades, gloves, handbags, and even underwear. Prisoners quickly became aware of her passion for tattoos.
Some deliberately cut themselves to ruin their tattoos, hoping to make themselves less appealing to her. Others even tried to get themselves sent to the gas chamber to permanently destroy the drawings on their skin.
One well-known case involved a French cabaret actress who had a beautiful tattoo covering her entire back. As soon as Ilse noticed the woman, her fate was sealed. Ilse had the actress killed and made a tablecloth from her skin.
Albert Gronowski, a prisoner who worked in the morgue, later testified that Ilse sewed panties from the skin of a Roma prisoner. He recognized the tattoo on the underwear because he had seen it on the back of a man from his block. The prison doctor who wrote death certificates helped falsify documents, listing heart attacks as the cause of death for tattooed prisoners who had been murdered for their skin.
Ilse became so absorbed in her craft that she began corresponding with the wives of commandants at other camps, sharing the secrets of tanning and processing human skin. Her preferred item to create was the lampshade, which earned her the nickname “Frau Lampshade.”
Despite her monstrous behavior, Ilse was not entirely without human desires. On one occasion, she spotted a tall and athletic young Czech prisoner. She ordered that the man be washed and fed heavily for several days.
He was then dressed in a suit and brought to her apartment. Ilse met him in a pink dressing gown, clearly hinting at an intimate encounter. The man refused her advances.

That refusal sealed his fate. Ilse brutally beat him, and he was then shot.
Remarkably, by the light of a lampshade made from human skin, Ilse wrote gentle and romantic poems.
The madness of the Koch couple eventually became known at the highest levels of the Nazi regime. Karl Koch was accused of murdering an SS man who had complained about extortion by his superiors. He was also accused of killing a doctor who had secretly treated him for syphilis.
More surprisingly, he was charged with embezzlement and excessive cruelty toward prisoners. It was a rare case in which executioners were accused of exceeding their authority as executioners.
The embezzlement charge proved to be the most damaging. Karl Koch had stolen approximately one million marks. Despite his requests to be sent to the front to redeem himself, he was convicted and sentenced to death.
The sentence was carried out in April 1945, when he was shot in the courtyard of the Buchenwald concentration camp.
Ilse Koch managed to escape punishment at that time. No direct evidence of her guilt was found, and she had hidden her activities well. After the war, she was released and tried to keep a low profile.
Ironically, her brief arrest and detention allowed her to claim the status of an anti-Nazi activist, a role she happily maintained until 1947.
That year, charges were brought against her for the crimes she had committed at Buchenwald. Ilse denied everything, claiming that the accusations were a conspiracy by co-workers who were retaliating against her for her official eagerness. Despite being pregnant, she was sentenced to life imprisonment.

In 1951, however, the High Commissioner dismissed all charges against her. The ruling stated that the evidence was insufficient and that there was no proof of her involvement in the manufacture of items from tattooed human skin. The decision sparked outrage across Germany.
People could not believe that one of the most brutal women of the Third Reich had been freed.
Even the American prosecutor, William Denson, who had originally secured her life sentence, was stunned. He called the decision a monstrous failure of justice.
Ilse Koch’s freedom did not last long. German authorities arrested her almost immediately after her release from an American prison in Munich. A new trial was launched, and the Bavarian Ministry of Justice actively searched for witnesses to gather indisputable evidence.
In the end, 240 surviving prisoners from Sachsenhausen and Buchenwald were summoned to testify.
Based on the evidence gathered, Ilse Koch was again sentenced to life imprisonment.
She never acknowledged her guilt. In letters to her son, she adamantly denied any wrongdoing, insisting that she had only been sincerely and honestly fulfilling her duty to her country. Her son was the only person who visited her in prison.
During his last visit, she complained of injustice and said she had not been sleeping well. She claimed that the souls of dead concentration camp prisoners visited her at night.
On September 1, 1967, Ilse Koch ate her last meal, wrote a farewell letter to her son, and hanged herself in her cell using bound sheets.
Her son later took his mother’s maiden name, Keller. In 1971, he attempted to restore her good name by writing a heartfelt letter to the editorial board of the New York Times. The letter went unanswered.
Ilse Koch’s story remains a chilling reminder of how ordinary people can become capable of extraordinary cruelty. Her crimes were so extreme that even the Nazi leadership, which had built a system of mass murder, found her behavior worthy of condemnation. She died by her own hand, but the memory of her victims and the horrors they endured endures.