"I believe all the devils in hell are against us but we will triumph eventually because we have the Devil on our side."
~ Madame Nhu
The engine of the armoured battering ram, with its newly acquired cow catcher, growled fiercely before it flung itself at the barricade. Those members of the Red Front still atop it sprang in different directions as it charged straight towards them down the cobbled streets leading towards Bulowplatz. Dozens of well placed shots rang out from the Reichswehr troops behind the machine, preventing any reaction.
With a loud crash and a hail storm of scattered debris, the armoured contraption emerged from the collision the victor. For a moment Johann could only hear the engine wheezing amidst the silent anticipation from his comrades before the firing started once again from the Reichswehr troops storming past the demolished obstacle.
The Red Front's barricades hadn't been prepared well enough for this sort of assault. The uneasy peace kept between the Red Front and the Berlin police ever since the rioting against the Volkisch Bund had demanded vigiliance. The looming election threatened further trouble and people had actively prepared for a fight, but not for one on this level and as the weeks that followed the election remained relatively calm, people slackened. What was now unfolding instead was a game of Cowboys and Indians, and the Red Front were "it".
Johann knew what it felt like to have his day ruined by the Reichswehr but it wasn't supposed to be like this. Years of contingency planning for this sort of showdown had come to nought in the face of the brutality and intensity of the assault. It had been known for some time that the German army was stronger than the state officially let on but what was now spilling out of all sides of the square was motorised and well armed in a way that reminded him more of the French than the veterans stripped of their strength and pride that he had flown against during the Ruhr Revolt in 1920.
The uneasy tranquility of the September morning had been broken with the urgent news that a new regime had been imposed by President Hindenburg, but there had been precious time to prepare for what that might mean before shots had started to be heard in other parts of the city. Red areas; places and people who could have been relied upon, were now under siege and cut off from one another. Berlin's sprawling mass contained many such areas but the Mitte district was undoubtedly one of the strongest, and it hadn't been long before the Reichswehr arrived in full force. No paramilitary goons or even police alongside them, this was to be a professional act of carnage.
Several dozen dead bodies marked the dust and rubble of the battlefield that a few hours ago had been a sedate scene. Johann had been sitting in the small park adjacent to to the square's cinema with his girlfriend Eva when the shooting broke out. Many people on the street had been caught in the crossfire, even as he had told Eva to run and tried to find some decent cover amongst the park's hedges. The Reichswehr had entered the tenements and began shooting indiscriminately, worsening the chaos and disorganisation until he lost sight of the amorous photographer who had proven to have a penchant for danger.
He fired off several rounds from an old Mauser rifle, one of the few that could be assembled from small caches littered throughout the square. These would have been larger had they had any time to prepare, instead the bare bones of an uprising were all there was to face the several armoured Dixi trucks crammed with soldiers surging past the demolished barricades and racing to form a perimeter. Karl Liebknecht Haus, the Communist party's headquarters, loomed behind him in the distance. From every corner of the square, members of the Red Front caught out in the open fired randomly; he felt it would all be over soon. Johann was crouched behind a park bench for cover, wondering whether he might actually be in command of the worker's defence at this moment in time. He could have been the most senior member present yet no more able to do anything about it than fight for as long as possible and hope that the man in the building behind him had something planned.
He had to have done. Adolf Hitler was their Leader and for as long as he had known the man Johann had never seen a problem arise that Hitler couldn't find a solution to.
---
Gerda tried to feed documents into the fire within the waste paper basket as quickly as possible whilst the theatrics in what was left of the staff of Karl Liebknecht Haus' upper floor carried on behind her.
Most people had left already, some were fighting outside, some had merely fled. A handful of the faithful remained, mainly focused on the fact that there were certain things the Reichswehr must not be allowed to find if they were to ransack the Communist headquarters. Alongside them were those who wouldn't leave the side of the General Secretary, the man who had seemed unable to do wrong for so long, even if he seemed to be in the midst of losing his mind at this moment in time.
"Betrayed! There has been betrayal at the highest ranks of this organisation. I threw Thalmann out and his whole Moscow gang to ensure this party's efficiency and yet no-one was able to inform me that Hindenburg was about to launch a coup?!"
The firing had forced Hitler to freeze at first but now the ranting continued unabated. This wasn't the first time he had established his authority by screaming a room down but the tactic appeared rather impotent when underscored by a battle raging outside, most of it from an enemy he had badly underestimated. The allies that made up his reduced Zentrale; Willi Munzenberg and Rose Levine-Meyer, the sycophants such as Joseph Goebbels and even the members of the Red Front who seemed to have composed themselves as a sort of personal guard; all seemed more focused on what was happening outside of the General Secretary's head for once.
"Comrade General Secretary," Munzenberg shouted over the din, "there's still time for us to leave. The workers mov-"
"I don't give a shit!" Hitler angrily retorted, pulling out his sidearm before burling around the room theatrically, causing Gerda to duck along with his own bodyguards. The situation was unable to continue to full farce by the sudden roaring of a machine gun throughout the building, tearing up the walls and windows alike before sending everyone dropping to the ground save for one party staffer who hadn't reacted fast enough. Gerda had barely spoken to the bullet riddled man, the holes punched through the walls illuminated his face in the light in contrast to his destroyed body. His eyes began to fade, but she still couldn't remember his name. He was younger than her, but older than her daughter. The daughter she needed to be with more urgently than ever. They needed to get out of here now, before Rosa would be forced to grow up without her, in a future where she might be made to forget her mother's name.
Hitler rolled around on the carpet, shaking a mound of dust and papers off of himself and coughing raspily whilst trying to stay low. He looked for his gun before his attention became focused by Gerda grabbing him by the lapels of his grey suit.
"We need to get out of here,
now" She seethed.
It wasn't clear whether it was the words she had said, or the way she had said it, but something in the General Secretary's eyes seemed to click for a moment, before a thousand yard stare dawned on his face.
"No point. The hospital is full already...they abandoned the hospital..." he garbled from his quivering upper lip, "...I'm dead."
Gerda used all the energy from her crouching position to slap him, his bodyguards didn't seem to mind all that much.
"There
is a way out of this and you don't need to do it alone. You asked for our help to save the German worker, well we'll still work together for that goal. But you need to get your head out of your arse and leave right now with the rest of us."
For a moment Hitler only stared at the floor and blinked, before nodding his head like a child being told off.
Even though it seemed the machine gun fire abated, Hitler's entourage crawled out of the room in single file whilst already quietly discussing how they would get out of Berlin. Meanwhile Gerda put out the fire in the waste paper basket before dragging an Adler typewriter down from her desk and onto the floor for safety.
"Aren't you coming?" Munzenberg shouted after her.
"I need to get my daughter" Gerda muttered back, "but I know where you're headed. I've just burned the escape plans." That caused Munzenburg to bark a quick laugh before he continued to crawl to safety, and Gerda began to write. Years of secretarial work had made her a fast typer as well as a person who had developed a knack for official correspondence.
It would be a shame if a surreptitious letter from the SPD to their supposed opponents declaring their allegiance couldn't be burned in time. Otherwise it might fall into the wrong hands.
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The still is taken from
Battleship Potemkin's "Odessa steps" sequence.