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The Berlin headquarters of the German Socialist Party were a collection of abandoned shops ironically not that far away from the gutted Social Democratic offices which Ernst had belonged to not so long ago.

It was a haphazard organisation, like everything had been for these nightmarish elections. Those who were loyal to Noske or at least wary enough of what the United Front might bring to stick with him had had to put together a campaigning base in a matter of weeks. It was one that had gotten stronger even with the intimidation tactics of the People’s Guard that were reported whenever it seemed there weren’t League of Nations inspectors around.

Ernst hadn’t witnessed such incidents personally but he had come across the bitterness with which some of his former constituents treated him along with that of some of his old friends. It seemed defection brought about honest reactions in some people even though he had remained personally confident that the new party would only be a temporary measure before a resolution that all would benefit from. It had kept him going just as it had for the others around him. Now they all sat waiting.

All their good work had come down to this moment.

The results of the second round of the Presidential election were unfolding on the radio. It was the first time the results had ever been reported in this way and it had left those in the office gripped to the set all night. They were now well into the morning and Germany’s future unfolded before them. The results had been unbearably close for hours, exacerbated by the fact that different stations often had contradictory numbers on offer. The general message was consistent however, neither Marx nor Zeigner were winning decisively with near ties in some counts and the Bavarian Crown Prince usually making the difference between the two of them. This led to an inevitable sense of frustration throughout the gathered party members, whether newly returned to the Reichstag like Ernst himself or activists who had worn themselves out in the preceding weeks getting the vote out for little personal gain.

It was only after midnight that a small lead for Zeigner began to appear and then to maintain itself, first noticed by one station, then by another, until finally it was being repeated like a mantra by journalists who weren’t used to this sort of live reporting. The reactions throughout the headquarters consisted first of denial then of cursing the Bavarian royal for his arrogance in not standing down in favour of Marx. The continued closeness of the results then led to excited talk of recounts before the pattern of reporting became continuous. It had been in the early hours of March 30th that they had heard fireworks going off in the direction of Mitte, it had shaken the silence from within the headquarters and people had started to go home.

Ernst had stayed, waiting for something to happen out of habit more than everything else. He was already growing numb to the news but he still wasn’t sure if he wanted a final indication that it was over.

“You would have made an excellent Chancellor, Ernst.” The conciliatory tone that came from Gustav Noske seemed to be this indication. It was especially out of place given the man’s usual stern demeanour, even when amongst his colleagues.

The plan had been complex and precarious but Ernst’s place in it had given him all the drive he would have needed for it to succeed. Noske hadn’t expected to defeat the United Front electorally in the Reichstag but instead focused on gaining enough seats to make sure an alternative could emerge. One that was predicated on Marx’s victory in the Presidential election.

This had worked out in the Reichstag, the ‘Fatherland Front’ of the German Socialists and the German People’s Party had gained enough seats to work alongside other centrists on the notional basis of eventually securing the support of the Social Democrats as well. The plan was that after Marx’s assumption of the Presidency he would appoint Ernst to the position of Chancellor and Ernst, being a relative unknown but having been involved with the United Front, would reach his hand across to his old comrades and uncouple them once more from the Communists.

Centrist parties in government with the support of the Social Democrats. It was the way Weimar had worked before 1928 but this time it would have been different. Better. The centre-left would have been able to reassert itself. A true Weimar coalition would be reestablished and the tack to the left would result in a serious change to policy, offering the chance to provide reforms more radical than those gained in 1918. Ernst would have been the one to administer all of this. Now, he was merely another spent gambler.

“You’re still a young man, your future’s bright.” Noske went on. “I mean, look at poor Marx, that probably was genuinely his last chance of becoming President.”

“At least he got to be Chancellor.” Ernst sulked.

“We don’t involve ourselves in this messy business for acclaim and prestige.” Noske grunted, back to his old self.

“I know but the Communists in government? Yes they did well in working with us to topple Schleicher but rebuilding the economy? Restoring confidence in the currency? It will be a disaster and we won’t have any power to stop them.”

“We have power to make their lives miserable.” The comment caused Ernst to get out of his sulk, Noske had a wicked smile on his face even as the bad news continued to flow in from the radio.

“And believe me that’s what we’ll do. Remember Ernst, they don’t have a majority in the Reichstag. They don’t have enough votes to simply ignore us.”

“They’re only a few seats off,” Ernst retorted hesitantly, “they just have to rely on a disunited opposition, which we largely are.” His own words made him ponder how long the German Socialist Party would even last for now that it wouldn’t have the magnetism of the transitional authority behind it.

“Look at it another way, they have to ensure they’re a united government despite the fact they’re two separate parties who will struggle to produce legislation effectively. They will struggle to be unified on every vote, especially on the controversial decisions, and with the state of the economy they will have to make such choices. In the meantime it’s our role to make that even more difficult for them than it needs to be. For every vote. Until one side or the other of this ‘United Front’ decides it isn’t working and pulls out to try and save some of their own party’s dignity. New elections won’t be long in coming I assure you, and then...well, we’ll be back here listening to better news on the radio.”

There was a gleam in the old man’s eye and Ernst tried to match his optimism before his doubts persisted.

“But even if the United Front does collapse, and election results improve, we’re still stuck with Zeigner until, what, 1938?”

“Zeigner’s an eccentric but he’s not a fanatic.” Noske replied confidently. “In the same way that President Ebert didn’t want to have him arrested during that business in Saxony back in the twenties but had to relent due to the demands of the Chancellor of that time, Zeigner too will have to bow to the prevailing political winds at some stage.”

Ernst nodded reluctantly, he wasn’t sure how Noske could remain so positive but he realised falling into despair wasn’t exactly going to help anything either. They were in a new day and a new time. He had to make the best of what he had landed himself in.


The sun, after all, was already beginning to rise.


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The poster is Vote Marx by Edgar Scheibe.

Special thanks to @Utgard96 for the wikibox!