I really liked doing this and i feel I was not able to even remotely finish it how I wanted, and I thought that things got a little outa control, so it's back.
A Time of Tears: A Different Post War Germany
November, 1921
Munich, Bavaria
The Weimar Republic
The Man stood in the crowd. Overhead rain patted down onto his trenchcoat. Even though it was raining it did not keep people from turning out for the speech. The crowd was unusually big, it made The Man even more nervous about what he was going to do. He looked around nervously, looking for any suspicious people. If he did, he was going to call this off right now and go home. He looked and found everybody was to preoccupied with their own thoughts and affairs. The Man sighed deeply to calm himself. He was doing god's work. The Man was a former member of Hitler's party but left due to a dream he had a few months ago. In it he looked over a ruined Germany. Men and boys lay piled by the road as troops marched through Berlin. The Man could not hear what they were saying but he did notice an American flag. The thought scared him. Hitler was going to ruin Germany.
The Man had actually served beside Hitler, he was in the same unit as him and saw the man on the front running messages. The Man was a frontline soldier, barely noticed him except for one time they spoke. In the few fleeting moments of silence during First Ypres Hitler seemed a tad off but the Man did not know exactly what it was. Now he did, and he was going to put a stop to it. He fingered the .455 Webley Revolver he had looted off a dead Brit. The soldier was just a young boy, couldn't have been over 17. His thousand yard stare would haunt him forever. The Man was the one who killed him. Jumped into his trench and beat him to death with his shovel.
"It was necessary...he would have killed you." he told himself again. he always did, it was the only way to cope with the guilt. The boy had his whole life ahead of him. The Man was 57 now, he wasn't going to do much more, or at least he thought. Now he stood here in the crowd and nervously awaited Hitler's arrival. He waited another ten minutes and was about to leave when thunderous applause erupted from all around him. The Man looked up at the stage and saw Adolf Hitler standing just feet away from him. He smiled as the crowd shouted "Heil!" in unison. He said it back in a quieter tone. The Man felt like he was going to puke however he couldn't tell if it was from pure disgust or nervousness.
As Herr Hitler's speech began the Man made his move. The crowd seemingly parted before him as he advanced quickly. He got to the line of SA and tried to push forward even more but was stopped.
"Get back, now!" one of them said sternly.
The Man responded by pulling out his revolver and opening fire on Hitler. The five bullets mostly impacted the podium but one went into HItler from his chin and exited out the back of his head, splattering brains and blood on the men behind him. The room was silent for half a second as Hitler flew backward then suddenly it erupted in shouts and screams. The men on the stage with Hitler rushed to him while the SA and the crowd rushed The Man. The Man however was built like an oak and was able to put the gun to his temple and fire his last shot into the brain. He died instantly as his limp body was dragged to the ground and viciously beaten by the crowd and SA. The medical personnel arrived soon after and solemnly informed the crowd of Hitlers condition. Hitler was dead.
August 3rd, 1928
Berlin, Brandenburg
The Weimar Republic
Gregor Strasser stood on the street corner blending into the crowd almost seamlessly. He had been in Berlin on business pertaining to his party, teh National Socialist German Workers Party, NSDAP for short. It had been 7 years since Hitler's assassination and the party was floundering. Without a powerful orator to draw in the crowds the party had stalemated with strong followings in Bavaria and Brandenburg. The only reason they had a presence in Berlin was because of Strasser. He knew North Germans more than Hitler and with him appealing to them, and his old comrade and Vice President of the Party Heinrich Himmler spreading the word in Southern Germany the part was growing, but like he said earlier it was painfully slow.
Strasser looked both ways before he quickly walked across the street. There he saw Himmler sitting on a bench with an umbrella keeping his tightly ironed brown suit and freshly shined black military boots clean. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Strasser took a seat next to Himmler and began to idly look around.
"How are things in Baden?" he asked.
Himmler gave him a quick look and smiled "I have met with much success. I have found a willing lower class there, easy to exploit." he said.
"How many new enlisted?" Strasser asked.
"I don't know off the top of my head but upwards of a thousand. However the local Freikorps have not taken kindly to us encroaching on their territory." Himmler said as he inspected a spot on his pant leg. He picked at it a little and it soon came off. Himmler stuck his hand out into the rain and got a crude hand washing.
"Have you dealt with them?" Strasser asked as he watched the crowd around them. They are in Freikorps territory and cannot be seen lest they get recognized.
"I have the SA launching recruiting drives in places where the Freiks have a toehold in an effort to block any further expansion. The Nationale Sozialist is being delivered by paper boys on our payroll and I also have other units moving into the city to make a public show of force. If we succeed we could have a propaganda trump card against the Frieks." Himmler said.
"Ok. Good. I would like to speak to you about your beliefs in Ayran superiority." Strasser said.
"Yes?" Himmler responded. They had this conversation many times before and each one was more boring than the last.
"Do not ever mention it outside of private conversation. Germany is increasingly diversifying both racially and religiously. I know you fell that Aryan Christians are ubermen and Im not going to try and change those beliefs. However I do not want you to alienate the minorities. We need to focus on the ultimate goal of beating the French and English and restoring German pride." Strasser declared.
"I hear this every other week Strasser, trust me, I get it. It makes sense in some twisted sort of way." Himmler acknowledged.
"Just want to be sure. Just so you know I am taking a few SA out of Munich to move to Kiel. There is a bunch of Freiks up there and I need help rooting them out." Strasser said.
"Of course. Whatever you feel necessary." Himmler said.
"What comes next? You can't stay in Baden forever lest someone get you." Strasser asked,
"I am planning an SA attack against the Frieks in Munich. They are getting feisty 'and poking the bear." Himmler said.
"A straight up attack? What about the police? Aren't you worried about them?" Strasser asked. He knew the Party was especially strong in Southern Germany but not THAT strong...was it?
"I have the police chief in my pocket. He has been an almost fanatical Party member for a few months now. Just write me a letter citing some attacks up North or something and he would take it. If he does go after any guys, the judges like us to so we will get off with light sentences." Himmler said calmly.
"Ok, I will have it sent to Munich within a week, use it when you see fit." Strasser said,
"How is the KPD doing?" Himmler said. The KPD's paramilitary, the RFB (Roter Frontkampferbund), had been especially powerful in and around central Germany, with their other branches in Northern and Southern Germany being suppressed by the Frieks and SA respectively.
"Eh, its not that bad lately. From what I have been getting they are more occupied with trying to recruit their members into the Party. Its taking up a lot of their time and resources. I have a plan though, just change the soldiers to our side and one by one they will fall, like dominoes." Strasser said nonchalantly. His plan was to wait them out and take action once he got into power.
"Fine with me. I must be going however as work does not do itself. Besides, you have a lot of work to do." Himmler said as he got up and began to walk to a car parked across the street. The car was built by the SA to be bulletproof while still practical. It looked like a metal box but eh, what are you going to do.
"Of course. I will get into contact with you as soon as I can. Before you go I have another idea to pass by you." Strasser said.
"Himmler turned "What is it?" he asked,
"I was thinking about renaming the party to Pan Germanischen Sozial Arbeiters Partei. Its to formally break from the racist and anti-Semitic origins, also to appeal to a wider audience." Strasser said.
Himmler thought about that for a second for nodding "Smart move. I would never have thought of that. I guess that's why you run the propaganda machine and not me." he said
"I bet. Talk to you later." Strasser said. Himmler nodded and jogged across the street before taking off in his vehicle. Strasser waited another ten or so minutes before he walked to the bus station and took a bus to Saxony where the main Party HQ in the North was.
August 30th, 1928
Berlin, Brandenburg
The Weimar Republic
Strasser sat in his home in Berlin and read the newspaper idly. He was interrupted when the phone rang. Strasser put down his newspaper and answered it, on the other side was Martin Bormann, a young and coming administrator.
"Hello Strasser. How are you today?" he asked.
"Good...what is it you want exactly?" Strasser asked curiously.
"I just called to tell you your sons are doing well in their games." Borman said. Strasser knew that was code. The German government might be tapping their phones so Strasser came up with a code to communicate how well things were going in Kiel.
"Ah, anybody get hurt? You know rough that game could be?" Strasser asked casually.
"Someone broke a leg, but other than that nothing." Borman said.
"How about the Southern Games? Are they progressing nicely?" Strasser continued.
"I haven't been notified of anything so I would assume they are going ok." Borman continued.
"Find out and notify me of your results. Tell me if there is any major developments from the Northern games." Strasser said with a smile then he hung up. He returned to his paper and continued like nothing had happened.
The same day...
Kiel, Schleswig-Holstein
George Zeter walked by a boy as he tried to get up and gave him a sharp kick in the stomach. The boy, no more than twenty or late teens, yelped in pain and vomited before falling back into the street face first. Zeter looked around the street and saw about 4 or 5 men of varying ages laying there, spewed across the road and sidewalk. Some were still, other moved around and groaned, all were defeated. Zeter then turned and saw the building at the end of the street, the regional HQ of the Freikorps in the region. It was also his target. A few men emerged from behind him to lob fire bombs at the building. They ran down the street and threw them at various points on the building, both inside and out. Hardest hit were the barricade on the front door and windows. The barricade was made of tables and chairs but was wetted by the recent rains. However a few firebombs broke the windows and the inside of the building began to catch fire.
"Now we charge! Tear down that barricade while the Freiks are distracted!" Zeter shouted as he charged to the door. As he got closer he was joined by the rest of his men, about 20 or so able bodied men in the prime of life. They began to tear away the woodwork comprising the barricade. At the same time yells of surprise at both the fire and men tearing up the barricade began to float into the street.
"Get some water or a blanket or something on that damned fire!" one shouted.
"No, get the SA first!" another said. Disorganization and surprise were key.
Zeter smiled as the last of the chairs came away from the door and it was flung open by his men. The SA charged inside and found the room a mess of overturned desks and chairs, everybody having went outside or upstairs. Zeter and his SA were not fazed and quickly moved through the empty room to the stairs and found their next big obstacle. At the top of the wood staircase was a barricade made of more furniture. Behind said barricade was about 10 riflemen, each with their guns trained on the stairs. Behind them they could hear men moving around and dumping water on the fires. How successful they were remained to be seen.
“Lay down your weapons. We do not wish to fight!” Zeter said. He emerged from the sides of the staircase and stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“You first. Then we can talk.” someone behind the barricade shouted.
“You know I can’t do that.” Zeter said simply.
“Then no deal Zeter, get outta here before we blow you away!” The same man responded.
“Look, do you really think that you can kill all your problems? If you kill us we will return, and in greater numbers.” Zeter said.
“Fuck this! Open fire!” the man screamed. Zeter gulped as a load of bullets impacted various points on his chest, throwing him onto his back. He died instantly. At the same time the rest of the SA emerged and opened fire. The two sides exchanged fire for another five to ten minutes before the fire behind them grew to great to fight.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” one of them screamed as he rose his hands quickly. “Look, we give, just get the fuck outta here! The fire’s can’t be stopped, you gotta help us!” he yelled as him and his compatriots leaped the barricade. The SA quickly hurried out of the building, soon followed by the Communists as the fire department went into action. The job was done.