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The time had come once more when it was no longer safe to be a Communist in Berlin.

The violent clashes between the Red Front and the Blackshirts had provoked an official position that was akin to hysteria in its aftermath. The police response to the riot had begun in earnest a few hours after the dust had settled around the park that had so recently been covered in blood and broken bodies. More violence was now being perpetuated throughout the city in a fashion so extensive that made Gerda sure that someone had been waiting for this opportunity to round-up Berlin’s Communists. She kept her head down with her eyes straight ahead, just as she had when the Freikorps had rampaged throughout the city, and held her daughter close as walked hurriedly through the streets towards a way out.

The pleasant Berlin evening was being disturbed by the screech of police whistles and the clamour of their wagons all over the city as they went out of their way to find the perpetrators of anti-fascist violence in the city. The police had been humiliated by their inability to keep order during the Stadtpark riot that day and now they were exacting vengeance. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that most members of the Red Front had the foresight to retreat to a safehouse rather than go to their address, it had quickly become a frustrating task for the police, frustrations that they took out on the families of the missing men, and anyone on the street who looked like they might have a Communist affiliation.

Gerda heard a distressed cry behind her and quickened her pace in the hope that their train still hadn’t left Potsdamer Platz, pulling her daughter by the hand all the while. A few hours beforehand she had wondered why she had to go out of Berlin at all, the call had come at an unsavoury hour for a single mother and the warnings of mass arrests of communists in Berlin hadn’t helped her to find someone to look after her daughter whilst she attended. All the same, she didn’t want Rosa to be in the city for the duration of the backlash, and was glad for the excuse to go to Hamburg with her.

“Does this mean I won’t be going to school tomorrow?”

Gerda couldn’t help but smile at her daughter’s hopeful tone. When she had grown up on her parent’s farm school hadn’t been something that was meant for girls, a fact she had tried to remind Rosa of whenever she had complained about how strict her teachers were or how much homework she had. Her daughter was a reminder to Gerdda of the progress that German women had made since she was a girl, even if Gerda had dressed as an old maid regardless. Her new woman attire didn’t feel correct in the climate, and her fear of arousing suspicion made her dress as matronly as possible, as if she were taking Rosa to an impromptu Christening. Working for the Communist Party meant repeated rendezvous with the police and if any were to spot her she might end up in a cell, but she was taking the risk anyway. Why would she hide when she could fulfill a crucial task in the name of getting the party one step closer to power?

The riots Hitler had brought about were the basis for her trip, not to flee Berlin but to do the party a favour instead. Gerda’s hopes that Thalmann would one day see that Hitler was unstable had come true but the timing had been awful and now that she was on the train she was keen to go through the documents that she had been asked to bring to an impromptu meeting in Hamburg to discuss the question of Hitler’s continuing role as General Secretary. She scanned through the documents, expecting that there would be some new information had discovered that had caused him to change his mind about Hitler, or perhaps even something he had had waiting for an opportune moment in case the time ever came to eject Hitler. In her frustration she lit a cigarette, and reopened her notebook to try and she if there was anything she might have missed. Comparing her own notes with the documents she had been ordered to bring, it seemed that the crux of the issues with Hitler were just her own misgivings typed up. She wondered if the case against Hitler would be strong enough based on her own opinions, or perhaps if his recent behaviour was simply damning in itself. It was a thought that gave her pause, before stomping boots brought her back to reality.

Gerda held her breath as the ticket inspector went through the carriage checking tickets, he was not escorted by any police, but he was nonetheless a man in uniform,
Rosa fidgeted uncomfortably, seemingly aware of her mother's alarm. The two remained silent as the inspector vacantly checked their tickets with a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Why were you afraid of that man?" Rosa whispered

"He might have been an agent of the state, it's always important to be careful when you're part of the workers movement."

"Is it safer for workers in Hamburg?"

Gerda noticed a policeman wandering up the platform before the train announced its departure with a heavy shunt. She inhaled deeply before breathing a sigh of relief.

"I hope so."


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The painting is Hamburg Wharf Worker by Heinrich Vogeler.