Dr. Friedrich Punt (1898 - 1969) A Lawyer in the Resistance

Photo Dr. jur. Friedrich Punt. Held in: private archive Walder Hall in Tyrol.

Courage and Conviction: The Confrontation with the Heimwehr

Friedrich Punt was more than just a lawyer – he was a person of unwavering conviction and bravery. He demonstrated this in the politically charged climate of 1930s Austria. Together with his close friend Rudolf Leitgeb, a teacher, he became involved in a physical altercation with members of the Heimwehr militia in front of the Café Central in Innsbruck. The reason? The two friends had deliberately answered the greeting "Heil Starhemberg" with "Grüß Gott," a clear provocation directed at the Austrofascist movement.
The affair escalated to such an extent that a delegation from the Heimwehr was forced to apologize officially to Punt. They did so, however, in a deliberately insulting manner: they chose a Saturday afternoon for their apology, when only the cleaning lady was present in his office.
It should also be noted that Rudolf Leitgeb's brother, Dr. Josef Leitgeb—also a teacher, lawyer, and poet—was another close friend of Dr. Friedrich Punt. This connection highlights the network of principled and courageous individuals surrounding Punt.

Law Firm Partners in Resistance: A Clarification

Friedrich Punt's law practice became an important sanctuary for people persecuted by various political factions. True to his belief in law and justice, he defended and supported individuals threatened by the regime. 
Contrary to a potentially misleading interpretation, Dr. Leopold Markl and Dr. Karl Kunst were not clients, but rather legal partners in Dr. Friedrich Punt's law firm. Both were politically persecuted in their respective times, albeit for opposing reasons.
Dr. Leopold Markl was already Punt's partner before the annexation in 1938. He was persecuted as a so-called "Illegal," meaning he was a supporter of the NSDAP, which had been banned in Austria since 1933, thus positioning himself against the then Austrofascist regime.
After the annexation, Dr. Karl Kunst, a committed socialist and later deputy governor, became Punt's law firm partner. This made him a target of persecution by the now National Socialist regime as a political opponent.

Historical Background: The Ban of the NSDAP in Austria and the July Putsch of 1934

To fully understand the situation of Dr. Leopold Markl as a so-called "Illegal," it is crucial to examine the political events of those years.
The Austrian NSDAP was banned on June 19, 1933. The government under Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuss responded to a series of Nazi explosives attacks by prohibiting all activities of the party. It subsequently went underground, and its supporters were labeled "Illegals" and persecuted by the state.
The year 1934 was then marked by a dramatic and violent event: the Nazi July Putsch on July 25. In this attempted coup, Austrian SS members stormed the Federal Chancellery and murdered Engelbert Dollfuss. Although the putsch failed, the assassination of the chancellor led to a massive intensification of persecution. This was followed by major waves of arrests, in which thousands of illegal Nazis were imprisoned or sent to internment camps.
In this climate of illegality and harsh repression, the political affiliation of Dr. Markl was not merely "contrary to the system" but carried immediate personal danger. This context highlights the risk that Friedrich Punt was already taking in the period before 1938 by working side-by-side in his law office with a persecuted Nazi "Illegal" – a circumstance that, after the Nazi seizure of power in 1938, naturally became instantly irrelevant, though now the threat came from the opposite direction.
After the "Anschluss" in 1938, Dr. Karl Kunst, a committed socialist and later deputy governor, became Punt's law firm partner. This placed him directly in the crosshairs of the now National Socialist regime, exposing him, like all system-critical voices, to massive pressure and persecution. While the once-illegal Nazis were now in power, Kunst's socialist convictions meant high personal risk.
This partnership again underscored Friedrich Punt's characteristic stance: his commitment was to the legal protection of the persecuted, regardless of their political origin. Having previously worked with a persecuted Nazi supporter, he now offered protection and professional solidarity to a threatened socialist. Thus, his law firm remained a place of resistance even after the Nazi takeover – now standing against a different, even more brutal regime of injustice.
 

Under Pressure: The Accusation of Being "Paul Pasquill"

The Nazi threat became a direct reality for Friedrich Punt immediately after the Anschluss in 1938. A Gestapo officer appeared at his office and accused him of being the author of the satirical poems published under the pseudonym Paul Pasquill in the magazine "Der Sumpf," which were critical of Hitler and the NSDAP. The officer also pointed to Punt's own political writings, which were classified as "pro-Russian," suggesting they were also problematic. Punt was given an ultimatum: within three days, he was to either confess to being the author or name the real person responsible.
Punt, who had not written the poems, faced an existential threat. He immediately notified his friends, including the Leitgeb brothers, Dallago, and Sailer. After three anxious days of uncertainty, nothing happened. The Gestapo brought no further charges. Only after the war did Punt learn the reason: his friend Sailer had intervened with the father of the former Gauleiter Edmund Christoph, leading to the investigation being suppressed.

Behind the pseudonym "Paul Pasquill" was Dr. Josef Leitgeb. A close friend of Friedrich Punt, he was the one who wrote those biting satirical poems against the Nazi regime for the magazine "Der Sumpf"—published by Wilhelm Kütemeyer in Berlin. The magazine itself had a brief existence in the 1930s; it was banned after just four issues. Thus, it was Punt's own network of friends and supporters that constituted the true source of the provocative texts—turning the Gestapo's accusation against him into a moment of tragic irony.

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Friedrich Punt. Zuflucht im Wortgehäuse 1941 - 1943. Christine Riccabona/Anton Unterkircher (Hrsg.),: im Auftrag des Forschungsinstituts Brenner-Archiv und der Stadt Innsbruck. Innsbruck 2001. In: Privatarchiv Georg Punt, Innsbruck. ​

Pessimism

Memory is short and weak,
Soon forgotten, woe and shriek.
And mankind learns nothing new,
Greedy-faced, they search for who
Bears the blame the neighbors seek.

Friedrich Punt: Pessimismus (Gedicht). In: Zuflucht im Wortgehäuse 1941 - 1943. In: Christine Riccabona/Anton Unterkircher (Hrsg.),: im Auftrag des Forschungsinstituts Brenner-Archiv und der Stadt Innsbruck. Innsbruck 2001, S. 15. ​

Context and Interpretation of "Pessimism"

This poem, written by Friedrich Punt between 1941 and 1943, captures a profound sense of despair—not just about the war, but about human nature itself.
In just five lines, Punt paints a grim picture of mankind:
·       Short Memory: We quickly forget our own suffering ("woe and shriek").
·       Inability to Learn: Because we forget our own pain, we fail to learn any lessons from it.
·       Blaming Others: Instead of self-reflection, we eagerly and greedily look for the faults and shame of our neighbors.
The poem is a timeless critique. It suggests that humanity's greatest flaw is not its mistakes, but its refusal to learn from them and its tendency to project guilt onto others. Written during the horrors of World War II, these words ring with the sorrow of someone watching the world repeat its oldest, most tragic patterns.

A Testament to Resistance

This episode, commented on by Christine Riccabona and Anton Unterkircher in the publication "Zuflucht im Wortgehäuse 1941-1943" (Brenner-Archiv, 2001), is exemplary of Friedrich Punt's character. It shows a man who stood up for his convictions, helped those in danger, and kept his composure even in the face of grave peril. His work represents a significant chapter of legal resistance against National Socialism in Tyrol.

Photo Dr. jur. Friedrich Punt. Held in: private archive Georg Punt. In: Christine Riccabona/Anton Unterkircher (Ed.): Zuflucht im Wortgehäuse 1941-1943, Innsbruck 2001, p. 108. 

In the Eye of the Storm: Friedrich Punt and the Resistance in the Wehrmacht Reporting Office

The Trauma of the Anschluss – A Collective "Political Insanity"

Friedrich Punt described the events of 1938 as deeply traumatic: "Anyone who did not experience the year 1938 firsthand cannot imagine its impact on the emotional life of a man with imagination." For him and many like-minded individuals, the "Anschluss" of Austria was a natural disaster, a spreading "political insanity." Society split into those who were depressive, sensing the impending downfall, and those who were manically excited supporters of the regime. Punt observed that even convinced opponents of National Socialism were "swimming along with the current against their own will." Faced with an overwhelming state power that only sacrificed "fanatics and the incautious," he formulated a plan: to resist as soon as a realistic opportunity presented itself.
This fundamental attitude of Friedrich Punt's, characterized by inner resistance and watchful distance, creates a difficult-to-interpret tension with one of his biographical decisions: Just weeks after the "Anschluss," he was admitted to the Nazi Party effective May 1, 1938 (membership number 6,357,647). However, according to his own written testimony from 1945, he was never an active member. His son attributes this step to the fact that Punt's law firm partner at the time, the former "Illegal" Dr. Leopold Markl, registered and recommended him as a well-intentioned favor among friends. Punt himself described his status in a letter to the Tyrolean Bar Association dated September 12, 1945, merely as "provisionally admitted" and explicitly stressed: "I was not active for the Nazi Party."
This formal membership, followed by the required enrollment in the National Socialist Lawyers' Association from the autumn of 1938, was likely the prerequisite for continuing his legal practice and thus his law office—an important refuge for the persecuted. It offered a momentary external shield. Yet this apparent compromise with the system simultaneously heightened his personal risk enormously. When Punt later engaged in active resistance within the military registration office, he was no longer acting as an apolitical fellow traveler but as a renegade party member. Such "betrayal" was pursued by the Nazi regime with particular brutality. His "swimming along against his own will" was thus not safe camouflage but a precarious balancing act on a razor's edge—between professional survival and the constant danger, should his true convictions be discovered, of facing the full severity of party discipline. The membership, therefore, was not a sign of conviction but an act coerced by external pressure and fraught with constant internal peril.

An Unlikely Resistance Cell: The Wehrmacht Reporting Office in Innsbruck

Conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1939, the war-injured Punt was fortunately able to serve as a sergeant major at the Wehrmacht Reporting Office in Innsbruck. This seemingly regime-conforming position proved to be perfect camouflage. There he met kindred spirits such as Leo Praxmarer, Oswald Peterlunger, Raimund Salchner, Engelbert Trager, and Anton Walder. Together they formed a secret cell of convinced regime opponents.
Their apparent adaptation to the system was, in some cases, extreme and served as a camouflage. While Punt himself was a member of the NSDAP, the example of his co-conspirator, Engelbert Trager, illustrates the ambivalent strategies of survival and resistance: Trager, who lived at Innsbruckerstraße 50 in Solbad Hall (Hall in Tirol) and identified as a member of the "Anton Haller" resistance group, even applied to join the NSDAP on January 1, 1939. However, his status remained that of an "Anwärter" (party candidate) until the end of the war. In contrast to full members, candidates, while accepted into the process, were never formally admitted to the NSDAP, often due to doubts about their political reliability or other concerns raised by the party. Trager's case suggests that his application was a tactical move to allay suspicion, but the party itself distrusted him and kept him at a distance.
This perfect camouflage within the heart of the military administration allowed the group, under the protective facade of the Wehrmacht reporting office, to equip persecuted individuals with forged documents and thus protect them from the Gestapo. The group received a crucial influx of support with the transfer of the journalist and writer Friedrich (Fritz) Würthle from Salzburg to Innsbruck in 1940. As early as June 12, 1942, Fritz Würthle held a meeting in his apartment with Baldauf, Ronczay, and Buzas to discuss a merger of resistance groups. Würthle, who in 1945 became the deputy leader of the Tyrolean resistance movement under Dr. Karl Gruber, was instrumental in driving the merger and coordination of the many small resistance cells in Tyrol.

Resistance with the Weapon of Words: The Poems of Friedrich Punt

From 1941 to 1943, Friedrich Punt composed his sharpest weapon against the regime: poems. In these texts, he processed his rejection of National Socialism, and he even courageously recited them among his trusted circle at the Reporting Office. By the summer of 1943, about 120 of these works had been created. Then, arrests of soldiers from the office by the Gestapo made the situation too dangerous; Punt hid his writings to protect them and himself.

Betrayal, Arrest, and a Last-Minute Rescue

In the spring of 1945, the resistance movement intensified its actions. The regime's response was brutal raids in which many fighters were arrested. Under torture, the radio dealer Alfred Altstätter also named Friedrich Punt as an accomplice.
On April 25, 1945, Punt was arrested by the Gestapo and severely tortured for hours. Subsequently, he was taken to the Reichenau labor camp, where his execution was scheduled for April 30, 1945, at 3:30 PM.
In desperation, his wife Anny Punt turned to Engelbert Trager from the resistance group around Anton Haller in Hall. This group knew an SS member named Jakob Strickner, who had offered his cooperation. They had initially refused him, but now saw a chance to test his alleged change of heart. Strickner procured an army motorcycle, drove to the Reichenau camp on the day of the execution, and ordered Punt to come with him. Punt believed his final hour had come. But Strickner actually brought him to safety in the mountains, where Punt was able to recover from his injuries for four weeks. The resistance movement, which had learned of the execution order through informants, had saved him at the last minute.

Photo Dr. jur. Friedrich Punt and Anny Punt. Held in private archive Georg Punt. In: Christine Riccabona/Anton Unterkircher (Ed.): Zuflucht im Wortgehäuse 1941-1943, Innsbruck 2001, p. 109. 

"The Silent Support" – Anny Punt and Her Invisible Contribution to the Resistance

Little has been recorded about the role of Friedrich Punt's wife during the Nazi era—and this scarcity is itself a significant fact. For Anny Punt spoke as little about those years as her husband. Both had remained silent, and this silence was no coincidence; it was part of the internal processing of a survival that could have failed at any moment. Their son recalls: "My mother rarely spoke about that time, my father never at all." It is the same silence that surrounded Anton Walder, a fellow resister at the Military Registration Office, who only occasionally and only when questioned revealed fragments. The burden of what they had experienced was too heavy, the memories too close.

All the more valuable are the few, fragmentary memories their son has preserved. They paint the portrait of a woman whose strength lay not in loud assertion but in quiet, reliable work behind the scenes.
Anny Punt, as can be gleaned from her son's accounts, possessed "quick comprehension," was "very practically inclined," and capable of acting "swiftly, accurately, carefully, and also very decisively" when the situation demanded. She was "a born organizer"—and in a dictatorship that punished every misstep with existential annihilation, organizational skill was itself a survival ability.

When her husband was imprisoned in the Reichenau camp in 1945, she apparently managed to maintain contact under the most confined circumstances. "Little notes" found their way—how exactly, her son no longer knows. That this clandestine channel existed is what matters. A quiet act of resistance that could only function because she was prudent, discreet, and resourceful.

Another story bears her imprint: A client of the law firm offered his assistance and actually succeeded in reaching Friedrich Punt in Vinaders—curiously, using a long-invalid identification card as an auxiliary gendarme from the imperial era. Anny Punt recounted this episode decades later with quiet humor: "Decisive demeanor apparently makes all the difference 😂." Yet behind the anecdote lies something more: It was likely she who accepted such help, extended trust, and made the contact possible.
​
And finally, the clandestine listening to foreign radio, hidden under a blanket for soundproofing. Whether the Punts possessed their own "modified" People's Receiver or listened at friends' homes—their son does not know. But that Anny Punt spoke of it at all shows that she was part of this dangerous listening. She shared the knowledge, the mistrust, the hope.

Her role in the law firm was no mere assistance. From its founding until her husband's death in 1969, she was office manager. She kept the practice running, ensured that "everything ran smoothly," and thus enabled him to pursue work that extended far beyond the purely legal. That she independently dissolved the practice after his death and transferred the pending cases to a young colleague demonstrates her capacity to assume responsibility—even in the pain of grief.

Anny Punt never sought the spotlight. She participated in her husband's contacts, into a circle of friends and acquaintances that already existed when she entered his life, fifteen years his junior. Of the Military Registration Office, where Friedrich Punt resisted alongside Anton Walder and others, "she probably didn't know many people." Her work was of a different kind: it was the enabling, the sustaining, the preserving.
Her silence about those years was not forgetting. It was the form of remembrance that remained to her. That we can still sketch a small, somewhat blurred portrait of her today is owed to the fragments her son preserved—and to the recognition that even the invisible must have its place in history.

Anny Punt was the quiet support of a resister. Her contribution was not one of grand gestures, but one of countless small, indispensable acts. Without her, much would not have been possible. That we know so little of her speaks not against her—it speaks for the times that compelled silence, and for the modesty of a woman who did her part without asking for recognition.