Becker said that during the war he quickly realized he couldn't openly reveal his sexual orientation, in fear of being shot dead or sent to a concentration camp. In other words, he didn't have sex for four years, which turned him into something of a sexual explorer. In a bunker, he tattooed himself for the first time: flames on his dick. He used three sewing needles, some woolen thread, a pencil, and black ink.

He pulled the curtain across his bunk for privacy and realized how much tattooing excited him. "I lay there and tattooed myself, and afterward, I came. The other guys were playing cards. I found it all strangely funny," Becker explained. From then on, he became obsessed with tattooing.

Becker's life on the frontline came to an end when a piece of shrapnel pierced his arm as his division retreated during an air raid. In the military hospital, he got to know art director Herbert Kirchhoff. For the next ten years, they were a couple, living and working side-by-side.

Becker designed dozens of film sets with Kirchhoff and they were awarded the German Film Award twice. This is the well-known, well-documented side of his life. The other side took place in tattoo shops and the queer art scene in Hamburg. Becker moved there in the 1950s and dove headfirst into the world of sadomasochism.