Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree: A Nineteen Eighty-Four Timeline
- Thread starter Roberto El Rey
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- 1984 book derivative dystopia orwell
9
Journal of Paul Meitner, a Berlin youth
Thursday, 17 October 1925
We finally got our guns from Moscow. They came in last week and they showed them to us at the meeting yesterday. They were much heavier than I thought they would be and I asked Comrade Schreicher if we would have time to practise with them, but he said there wouldn't be enough time. He told us we might not even need to shoot--when the soldiers take our side they'll do the shooting for us. If we're lucky, maybe they won't even have to shoot--if enough of the workers join with us we'll overrun the police in no time. I simply can't wait till we get the order. I've been staying up every night thinking about how it'll go down. I've been missing some schoolwork but our history books are just a load of bourgeois propaganda anyway, and we won't have much use for biology once the revolution has succeeded. I know I've sworn to keep secret about it all but I couldn't help letting a few words slip at dinner yesterday. Mama and Papa seemed worried but they'll understand the sacrifice when the cause is complete.
After work I walked to the library on Tuesday and found a book on the revolution in Russia by some Englishman named Stinton Jones. He talks about how the rioting in Petrograd started small but grew and grew until the streets were full and the police and the Cossacks were overwhelmed. I was only nine when it happened but I remember there were celebrations in Berlin--I can just imagine us all marching down the Chausseestraße like it's the Nevsky, thousands of us, marching to bring down the tyranny of the Republic. I don't see how it can go any other way--our posters and pamphlets are everywhere, I reckon there's not a single worker who hasn't heard our message. It might take some time but once they see that we've cleared the way, they'll join in. We will win.
I've been giving a lot of thought to whether or not I'll die during the march. The book mentions some deaths from clashes with the police during the Petrograd marches. I hope it doesn't have to happen but I've decided that if it comes down to that, I'll be willing to lay down my life for the cause if I really have to. When the proletariat class is finally on top, Mama and Papa will understand. Maybe I'll even be a hero or a martyr. In any case I hope the police will see the gun and stay away, but I'll shoot if I have to. I don't want to kill my fellow man but the cause is more important than anything else--when the revolution succeeds they'll all understand the price that had to be paid. I only hope I live to see the day when everyone, not just in Germany, but in the world, is free, so that I can know I did my part in it (But I still hope that part doesn't involve much shooting).
Thursday, 17 October 1925
We finally got our guns from Moscow. They came in last week and they showed them to us at the meeting yesterday. They were much heavier than I thought they would be and I asked Comrade Schreicher if we would have time to practise with them, but he said there wouldn't be enough time. He told us we might not even need to shoot--when the soldiers take our side they'll do the shooting for us. If we're lucky, maybe they won't even have to shoot--if enough of the workers join with us we'll overrun the police in no time. I simply can't wait till we get the order. I've been staying up every night thinking about how it'll go down. I've been missing some schoolwork but our history books are just a load of bourgeois propaganda anyway, and we won't have much use for biology once the revolution has succeeded. I know I've sworn to keep secret about it all but I couldn't help letting a few words slip at dinner yesterday. Mama and Papa seemed worried but they'll understand the sacrifice when the cause is complete.
After work I walked to the library on Tuesday and found a book on the revolution in Russia by some Englishman named Stinton Jones. He talks about how the rioting in Petrograd started small but grew and grew until the streets were full and the police and the Cossacks were overwhelmed. I was only nine when it happened but I remember there were celebrations in Berlin--I can just imagine us all marching down the Chausseestraße like it's the Nevsky, thousands of us, marching to bring down the tyranny of the Republic. I don't see how it can go any other way--our posters and pamphlets are everywhere, I reckon there's not a single worker who hasn't heard our message. It might take some time but once they see that we've cleared the way, they'll join in. We will win.
I've been giving a lot of thought to whether or not I'll die during the march. The book mentions some deaths from clashes with the police during the Petrograd marches. I hope it doesn't have to happen but I've decided that if it comes down to that, I'll be willing to lay down my life for the cause if I really have to. When the proletariat class is finally on top, Mama and Papa will understand. Maybe I'll even be a hero or a martyr. In any case I hope the police will see the gun and stay away, but I'll shoot if I have to. I don't want to kill my fellow man but the cause is more important than anything else--when the revolution succeeds they'll all understand the price that had to be paid. I only hope I live to see the day when everyone, not just in Germany, but in the world, is free, so that I can know I did my part in it (But I still hope that part doesn't involve much shooting).
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10: Red Flags over Berlin
Excerpt from p. 78 of Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Germany Between the World Wars by Otto Grünwald, 1946
...The morning of 9 November in Berlin was, by all accounts, a cold one. There were few pedestrians on the streets other than those heading to work, and the Tiergarten was "almost totally deserted", in the words of the Berliner Tageblatt. For most of the morning, the loudest presence in the industrial quarters north of the Spree were the silent, but ubiquitous, posters of the KPD. Though the giant face which stared down on the street from the posters gave the feeling of a king watching over his people, he was meant to be an insurrectionist rather than an autocrat--this was evidenced by the caption, which encouraged Berliners to "Take up Arms with [Their] Comrades in the KPD" and insisted that "Only Revolution [Could] End the Oppression of the Capitalist Bourgeois Rulers!"
At this point in its history, the NSDAP was strapped for cash, and it showed: While the Communists, rich with Moscow's money, were printing thousands of faces and tacking them onto every street corner in Berlin, the National Socialists were calling meetings on weeknights so that their members could draw their propaganda by hand. It goes without saying that the KPD's anonymous worker inspired far more emotion than the NSDAP's shoddily-drawn caricatures of their Führer. To boot, with Hitler still awaiting his release from Landsberg, the amateur artists had no model for their drawings, and they were forced to go off the descriptions of those members who had actually seen Hitler before; the finished products reportedly convinced some citizens that there was a new Charlie Chaplin film about to be released by the name of "Germany for the Germans".
Eyewitness Account of the November Putsch on 3 December by Karl Höller, an ironworker from Mitte
I think it started sometime around noon, or a little after. The boss had called off work that day, so I was at home. I was planning on going to walk along the river but the weather was too cold, so I stayed home. I think I was having breakfast when it all started up. I started hearing some shouts outside my flat and I walked over to the window and I saw them all marching by. Thousands, there must have been...two or three, at least, and almost all of them were wearing those red shirts. I saw the red shirts and I figured they were from one of those red parties...at first I thought it was the National Socialists but from the slogans they were shouting it couldn't've been. They're always prattling on about the German race...these people were shouting about revolution, so I knew it had to be the Communists.
...The morning of 9 November in Berlin was, by all accounts, a cold one. There were few pedestrians on the streets other than those heading to work, and the Tiergarten was "almost totally deserted", in the words of the Berliner Tageblatt. For most of the morning, the loudest presence in the industrial quarters north of the Spree were the silent, but ubiquitous, posters of the KPD. Though the giant face which stared down on the street from the posters gave the feeling of a king watching over his people, he was meant to be an insurrectionist rather than an autocrat--this was evidenced by the caption, which encouraged Berliners to "Take up Arms with [Their] Comrades in the KPD" and insisted that "Only Revolution [Could] End the Oppression of the Capitalist Bourgeois Rulers!"
At this point in its history, the NSDAP was strapped for cash, and it showed: While the Communists, rich with Moscow's money, were printing thousands of faces and tacking them onto every street corner in Berlin, the National Socialists were calling meetings on weeknights so that their members could draw their propaganda by hand. It goes without saying that the KPD's anonymous worker inspired far more emotion than the NSDAP's shoddily-drawn caricatures of their Führer. To boot, with Hitler still awaiting his release from Landsberg, the amateur artists had no model for their drawings, and they were forced to go off the descriptions of those members who had actually seen Hitler before; the finished products reportedly convinced some citizens that there was a new Charlie Chaplin film about to be released by the name of "Germany for the Germans".
Eyewitness Account of the November Putsch on 3 December by Karl Höller, an ironworker from Mitte
I think it started sometime around noon, or a little after. The boss had called off work that day, so I was at home. I was planning on going to walk along the river but the weather was too cold, so I stayed home. I think I was having breakfast when it all started up. I started hearing some shouts outside my flat and I walked over to the window and I saw them all marching by. Thousands, there must have been...two or three, at least, and almost all of them were wearing those red shirts. I saw the red shirts and I figured they were from one of those red parties...at first I thought it was the National Socialists but from the slogans they were shouting it couldn't've been. They're always prattling on about the German race...these people were shouting about revolution, so I knew it had to be the Communists.
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I once heard Ricky Gervais use a word in this context that rhymed with "binge" and started with a "w" sound. So I assumed that there was a real word spelled that way which meant to ramble on and on about nothing. I'll change it.
Thank you. And by the way, this particular entry will be a multi-parter. Out of all the fictional events I've described so far this is the largest, and I couldn't decide on an eyewitness account or a history book format, so I chose both. I was originally planning to alternate between them and create one very long entry, but I decided instead to break it up into smaller parts which I will write and post separately--Hopefully this will add some suspense, make it easier to stick to a somewhat consistent schedule and keep my brain from getting jumbled with too many simultaneous ideas. November Putsch parts 2, 3 and possibly more are on the way!
Welcome, and huge thanks for taking an interest in my TL. I hope you like it and please feel free to give feedback!
My apologies, there is a whinging as well as a whining. I wonder just how successful the November putsch will be...
11
Excerpt from p. 181 of Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Germany Between the World Wars by Otto Grünwald, 1946
The strange silence which blanketed the industrial districts before the march was not a coincidence. Through a coordinated action, the KPD had used its influence in the workers' committees to get work cancelled in all of the major factories, and the usual sounds of machines running, steam whistling and hammers striking were replaced by an ominous peace. Interestingly enough, by silencing the city, the KPD had inadvertently made its own propaganda more effective. According to one shop clerk who had just gotten into work when the march started:
"I didn't really notice how quiet it was until I was nearly at work. For some reason I kept noticing those big posters with the face...most days I just walked right past them, but they stood out to me that day, especially the eyes--it felt like he was watching me from every street corner. I couldn't understand why I kept noticing them all the time, and then it hit me--without all the usual racket you heard in those parts, there was nothing to distract you...It felt like it was just you and him."
Though this was indeed the calm, the storm had in fact been brewing in secret all throughout the night. The evening of 8 November, every able-bodied KPD member had made his way incognito to a factory on the north side of the river, where they prepared, in secret, for the coming day. Secret passwords were given and lookouts were posted; through the night they stayed awake in deep anticipation. Maps were examined, routes were reviewed, guns were loaded. Signs and uniforms were gathered, slogans rehearsed, marching patterns practised; cold sandwiches were washed down with lukewarm coffee and quiet excitement. The main event of the night, however, and the climax of the rancor in each of the KPD's makeshift bases was the direct appearance of the Party leader. All through the night, Thälmann hurried from factory to factory, conducting at each one what a young Party member described as "the best meeting [he'd] ever been to"...
From the Journal of Paul Meitner, Sunday, 9 November 1925
...But by far the best part tonight has been the meeting. Thälmann was there and it was absolutely marvelous. It was the best meeting I've ever been to. First he read out loud what that bastard Stalin had to say about world revolution, how we're all wasting our time and how socialism should stay in Russia, well we're going to show him where he can stuff that then won't we! And Thälmann read it so loud and so hard you'd think the bastard was really there and, then someone started shouting traitor and everyone else just joined in. I didn't, I just wanted to hear what he had to say but pretty soon I couldn't help it and I just started screaming my head off, I didn't care what he said anymore because I knew it was all wrong and nonsense and awful and sooner or later they'd get him they'll find him and when they do goddamnit we'll bash his head in! We were all fired up beforehand what with us knowing we were going to bring down the Chancellery and all but after the speech he gave everyone was ready to tear them all apart, all the damned traitorous Social Democrats and all the horrible National Socialists they've all abandoned the cause, they've stomped it to death, we're the only ones who're going to uphold the truth, if they get to power it'll all be over that's why we're here that's why we're marching tomorrow we're going to make history me and everyone else here we're going to save Germany from those swine, those capitalist swine, just one more day before we do what we've been waiting to do once and forever!
The strange silence which blanketed the industrial districts before the march was not a coincidence. Through a coordinated action, the KPD had used its influence in the workers' committees to get work cancelled in all of the major factories, and the usual sounds of machines running, steam whistling and hammers striking were replaced by an ominous peace. Interestingly enough, by silencing the city, the KPD had inadvertently made its own propaganda more effective. According to one shop clerk who had just gotten into work when the march started:
"I didn't really notice how quiet it was until I was nearly at work. For some reason I kept noticing those big posters with the face...most days I just walked right past them, but they stood out to me that day, especially the eyes--it felt like he was watching me from every street corner. I couldn't understand why I kept noticing them all the time, and then it hit me--without all the usual racket you heard in those parts, there was nothing to distract you...It felt like it was just you and him."
Though this was indeed the calm, the storm had in fact been brewing in secret all throughout the night. The evening of 8 November, every able-bodied KPD member had made his way incognito to a factory on the north side of the river, where they prepared, in secret, for the coming day. Secret passwords were given and lookouts were posted; through the night they stayed awake in deep anticipation. Maps were examined, routes were reviewed, guns were loaded. Signs and uniforms were gathered, slogans rehearsed, marching patterns practised; cold sandwiches were washed down with lukewarm coffee and quiet excitement. The main event of the night, however, and the climax of the rancor in each of the KPD's makeshift bases was the direct appearance of the Party leader. All through the night, Thälmann hurried from factory to factory, conducting at each one what a young Party member described as "the best meeting [he'd] ever been to"...
From the Journal of Paul Meitner, Sunday, 9 November 1925
...But by far the best part tonight has been the meeting. Thälmann was there and it was absolutely marvelous. It was the best meeting I've ever been to. First he read out loud what that bastard Stalin had to say about world revolution, how we're all wasting our time and how socialism should stay in Russia, well we're going to show him where he can stuff that then won't we! And Thälmann read it so loud and so hard you'd think the bastard was really there and, then someone started shouting traitor and everyone else just joined in. I didn't, I just wanted to hear what he had to say but pretty soon I couldn't help it and I just started screaming my head off, I didn't care what he said anymore because I knew it was all wrong and nonsense and awful and sooner or later they'd get him they'll find him and when they do goddamnit we'll bash his head in! We were all fired up beforehand what with us knowing we were going to bring down the Chancellery and all but after the speech he gave everyone was ready to tear them all apart, all the damned traitorous Social Democrats and all the horrible National Socialists they've all abandoned the cause, they've stomped it to death, we're the only ones who're going to uphold the truth, if they get to power it'll all be over that's why we're here that's why we're marching tomorrow we're going to make history me and everyone else here we're going to save Germany from those swine, those capitalist swine, just one more day before we do what we've been waiting to do once and forever!
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Max Sinister
Banned
Strange. Goldstein from 1984 is the Trotsky equivalent, but here, Trotsky becomes leader of Eurasia?
Trotsky certainly won't be in power by the time 1984 comes around.
If he even lives still then (unlikely) he would be 104 years old.
12
Excerpt from p. 187 of Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Germany Between the World Wars by Otto Grünwald, 1946
Finally the moment came. Throughout the city, the clocks struck thirteen and single bell tolls reverberated through the streets; after revving its engines for an intense night the KPD's revolutionary machine was set on the warpath. Endless rows of armed protesters poured out of the factory lots and clogged the roads. As the mobs took over the cold streets the slogans began pouring forth from their mouths--within a minute "Down with the bourgeois oppressors", "Freedom for the proletariat" and "Workers, unite" filled the air wherever the crowds blazed their trail. As a dozen angry, organized and armed columns converged upon the Chausseestraße from each conceivable direction, it was as though Berlin was under invasion by a red-clad army--how prophetic the image would become not twenty years later.
Eyewitness account of the November Putsch given by Karl Höller, an ironworker from Mitte
...No, I never cared much for their ideas and all but when I saw them out there marching I figured I had to go and see what they were getting on about. I saw they had guns but I figured I'd be safe--what were they gonna do, shoot at me? I'm a worker, aren't I? They're always saying the workers are superior and all, they'd never shoot me. Besides, they couldn't aim worth a dog's tail...Anyway, when I headed out on the street it was kind of hard to get through the crowd, there were so many of them, but I made it eventually. I couldn't figure why they'd be marching through these little streets when there were so many of them...I guess the idea was to head by the places where all the workers lived and get them to come and join in, but I couldn't see many others. It still worked on me though, I suppose...
p. 190 of Grünwald
By a quarter to fourteen, all of the various battalions of the Communist forces had made their rounds through the workers' neighbourhoods and arrived at the Chausseestraße. At that point, the KPD's forces were no longer a federation of free-moving brigades--they were a unified, advancing, apparently unstoppable army. Contemporary estimates centre around 12,000 men; eyewitness reports claimed 40,000 or more. As the massive force pressed on southeast, it was quickly closing the distance between it and its targets in the heart of both the city and the democracy.
Höller
It was maybe a half an hour had gone by, I was still marching with them. Then we got to the Chaussee, and that's when I saw it--it wasn't just us marching there, there were thousands more, and they all started in the same direction, yelling and shouting. It got so loud, I couldn't hear myself think! I tried to make out some of the slogans but they weren't as clear as before...it was just noise from where I was in the crowd. I kept wondering why the police hadn't turned up yet...I knew this wasn't just any protest, with the guns they were lugging...I started to hope they would come along soon, before these maniacs did some real damage. I started to worry any second someone would start shooting and it would all go to hell...
Finally the moment came. Throughout the city, the clocks struck thirteen and single bell tolls reverberated through the streets; after revving its engines for an intense night the KPD's revolutionary machine was set on the warpath. Endless rows of armed protesters poured out of the factory lots and clogged the roads. As the mobs took over the cold streets the slogans began pouring forth from their mouths--within a minute "Down with the bourgeois oppressors", "Freedom for the proletariat" and "Workers, unite" filled the air wherever the crowds blazed their trail. As a dozen angry, organized and armed columns converged upon the Chausseestraße from each conceivable direction, it was as though Berlin was under invasion by a red-clad army--how prophetic the image would become not twenty years later.
Eyewitness account of the November Putsch given by Karl Höller, an ironworker from Mitte
...No, I never cared much for their ideas and all but when I saw them out there marching I figured I had to go and see what they were getting on about. I saw they had guns but I figured I'd be safe--what were they gonna do, shoot at me? I'm a worker, aren't I? They're always saying the workers are superior and all, they'd never shoot me. Besides, they couldn't aim worth a dog's tail...Anyway, when I headed out on the street it was kind of hard to get through the crowd, there were so many of them, but I made it eventually. I couldn't figure why they'd be marching through these little streets when there were so many of them...I guess the idea was to head by the places where all the workers lived and get them to come and join in, but I couldn't see many others. It still worked on me though, I suppose...
p. 190 of Grünwald
By a quarter to fourteen, all of the various battalions of the Communist forces had made their rounds through the workers' neighbourhoods and arrived at the Chausseestraße. At that point, the KPD's forces were no longer a federation of free-moving brigades--they were a unified, advancing, apparently unstoppable army. Contemporary estimates centre around 12,000 men; eyewitness reports claimed 40,000 or more. As the massive force pressed on southeast, it was quickly closing the distance between it and its targets in the heart of both the city and the democracy.
Höller
It was maybe a half an hour had gone by, I was still marching with them. Then we got to the Chaussee, and that's when I saw it--it wasn't just us marching there, there were thousands more, and they all started in the same direction, yelling and shouting. It got so loud, I couldn't hear myself think! I tried to make out some of the slogans but they weren't as clear as before...it was just noise from where I was in the crowd. I kept wondering why the police hadn't turned up yet...I knew this wasn't just any protest, with the guns they were lugging...I started to hope they would come along soon, before these maniacs did some real damage. I started to worry any second someone would start shooting and it would all go to hell...
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Who says you have to be alive to be the leader of a megastate in 1984?
Max Sinister
Banned
You have a point there, although I still expect him to be the live leader at some point.
I have been quite busy in the past few days and haven't had time to work on a new post. By tomorrow I should be back on schedule--expect the next installment by mid-next week.
Awesome! Welcome and I'm glad you're interested.You have my full attention.
Subbed.
13
Eyewitness account of the November Putsch by Karl Höller, an ironworker from Mitte
We were on the Luisenstraße, almost up to the bridge. Before then, I hadn't really thought much about where we were going...I guess I already knew it had to have been the Reichstag, but it was sort of in the back of my mind, like I wasn't even thinking about it. I guess I figured they would get stopped sooner or later...but after that police stop I didn't think anything could stop them. And when we got to the bridge and I saw the building just sitting there, defenceless, no one to guard it, I wanted to scream. I think I did scream but there was so much noise I couldn't even hear myself. I couldn't even imagine them if they got there...what the hell would they have done to it? Smashed all the windows? Set fire to it? Goddamn it, those bastards would have blown the whole thing up if they wanted! They were nothing but a bunch of red thugs with fancy guns and lunatic ideas...At least the other Socialists have a damn to give about this country.
We were on the Luisenstraße, almost up to the bridge. Before then, I hadn't really thought much about where we were going...I guess I already knew it had to have been the Reichstag, but it was sort of in the back of my mind, like I wasn't even thinking about it. I guess I figured they would get stopped sooner or later...but after that police stop I didn't think anything could stop them. And when we got to the bridge and I saw the building just sitting there, defenceless, no one to guard it, I wanted to scream. I think I did scream but there was so much noise I couldn't even hear myself. I couldn't even imagine them if they got there...what the hell would they have done to it? Smashed all the windows? Set fire to it? Goddamn it, those bastards would have blown the whole thing up if they wanted! They were nothing but a bunch of red thugs with fancy guns and lunatic ideas...At least the other Socialists have a damn to give about this country.