Maybe put a disclaimer at the start of the book that spells it out. That's probably the only thing you could do.
I like your portrayal of Hitler, you've made him very beliavable, as in I can see why some people would follow him.
Der Kampf: The Rise and Fall of the Austrian Führer
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I like your portrayal of Hitler, you've made him very beliavable, as in I can see why some people would follow him.
I do have a disclaimer in the front, so hopefully that helps.
I appreciate that! Exactly. He is a murderer, a vile tyrant, a racist and more, but at the same time he enraptured a nation of tens of millions with his charisma. It would be hard to believe a OTL 1944/1945 Hitler could seize power. This is, afterall, a story of Hitler in the 1910s and 1920s as of now.
1945 Hitler and 1923 Hitler were so different as people (as one would expect from a 56 year old and a 34 year old) that it's hard to compare them at all. 1945 Hitler was also the most (in)famous man in the world and everybody except those in his cult knew exactly who he was. He also suffered from a host of diseases and was generally unhealthy, while 1923 Hitler had none of those issues and in a much younger, stronger body. Hitler as himself in 1944 could never take power and command authority as he does in this story.
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-One
Graz, Austria
Republic of Austria
April 1929
Graz, Austria
Republic of Austria
April 1929
Adolf Hitler knew that failure tonight would not only see his children become orphans but potentially herald the collapse of Social Nationalism itself. It was a great risk, but filled with bitterness and vengeful anger Hitler had thrown caution to the wind.
Liese… what will I do without you?
Before arriving at Brigadier General Waber’s command post outside Graz, Hitler had issued orders for Olbrecht and von Starhemberg. If he were to die within the next few hours then Olbrecht was to become the new Party Chairman and von Starhemberg to be his second-in-command. Even now Olbrecht was on his way to Vienna with Hitler’s children. Clear instructions had been given to von Starhemberg on how to corner Seipel into doing what Hitler wanted.
Now, he found himself being smuggled into the city by Siegfried Uiberreither, a local Graz Party member who had stated true to his Führer following Pfrimer’s coup. Behind them trailed Konrad Leichtenberg and Jakob Kuhr. All four were armed with pistols and knives. They had snuck into Graz, thankful that the night sky was filled with dark clouds. Hitler wanted to confront Pfrimer. He was eager to end this stain against Social Nationalism.
He was eager to kill the man who orchestrated his wife’s death.
On the approach into Graz Hitler had been afraid they would have been sighted but Siegfried had chosen well and they slipped into the city without issue. For the next two hours they advanced closer and closer to the Rathaus in Hauptplatz, bypassing patrols of men who seemed ill at ease, shuffling with a weary exhaustion, both physical and psychological. Many whispered insults directed at Hitler and Chancellor Seipel, but far more were directed with greater fervor at Pfrimer and Hiltl. It seemed the rebellion’s inability to spread with widespread support across the country had crippled whatever support Pfrimer had over the Styrian ÖSNVP. Hollow promises rarely proved fruitful to the masses.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” one Styrian Sturmwache had said as he passed them, walking through Graz’s streets in the cold morning air. Breath fogged as he talked. “I joined to save the country from Communists and Jews, not fight my fellow countrymen over a foolish man’s ego.”
“You better be careful, Ludwig,” said one of his fellow squadmates.
“Or what? There isn’t anything Pfrimer can do. He can’t risk losing us.”
"Three of Hiltl’s men were killed yesterday,” the first man countered.
“Hiltl’s men, not Sturmwache. The Frontkämpfervereinigung have different rules. Besides, they can spare the men. We can’t. Last count was we are down almost sixty. Ran away, the damn cowards.”
Hitler couldn’t help but hear the envy in the man’s voice.
“Everyone knows the Bundesheer is killing them.”
“Yeah… everyone knows. It’s true. Our commanders wouldn’t lie to us. Not about that, at least.”
Hitler smirked, hearing the disbelief in their own words. It seemed Pfrimer’s rule was a house of cards, far more fragile than he believed possible.
Twice as they made their way through the city they heard sudden shouts that caused them to freeze in their tracks, half-concealed by trash bins with guns ready in case of discovery. But each time they were quickly relieved to find the alarm was not directed at them, but rather city residents attempting to flee.
Gunfire rang out, as did a scream, then nothing. Nothing but the silence of the dead and the cowed.
It was well past midnight when they reached City Hall. The four-story building was impressive, an impressive looking center of local governance. There were sandbags built up around the doorway but shockingly only a single soldier stood there.
“It has to be a trap,” muttered Kuhr in disbelief. “Pfrimer wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave himself without a platoon of guards nearby.”
Hitler scanned the buildings beside and across City Hall. None had lights on, nor were there any open windows. The square seemed empty but for a squad on patrol opposite side from the Rathaus who even now were walking down a street out of sight. It was unlikely but…
“He doesn’t have the manpower,” Leichtenberg whispered, matching Hitler’s own conclusion. “He can’t spare the men to guard him while so many are trying to flee the city. He’s stretched too thin.”
Kuhr shook his head in surprise. “Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he chided.
“Indeed,” Hitler said, feeling a stab of pain through his chest. Biting his lip till the pain subsided, he tasted blood. When the pain spasm passed he spoke once more. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
As per the plan they cobbled together on the way into Graz, Siegfried Uiberreither stood and quietly crossed the street, avoiding the light given off by street lamps. Now on the other side he stuck to the shadows and moved toward city hall, skirting beside the three- and four-story buildings.
Siegfried began to walk casually towards City Hall, a bounce in his step that appeared at ease in the poor lighting. Coming from the side he neared the front of the building, he called out to the guard. The man had instinctively reached for his weapon but relaxed at the friendly manner and familiar voice of Siegfried. The man’s connections with the Styrian branch of the ÖSNVP was paying off.
Hitler could hear their conversation from here, such was the heavy silence that seeped into the city.
“Siegfried, that you?”
“It is indeed, Rolf!”
“I heard you deserted,” the guard said warily.
Siegfried merely laughed.
“If only that were true. And I heard you were sick with the clap.”
The guard chuckled and crossed himself as Siegfried neared him. “Haven’t yet, though I hear there’s this girl in town that-“
Siegfried’s knife struck the guard in the throat. Whatever cry Rolf would have yelled was muffled by Siegfried’s hand clamped over the dying man’s mouth.
Hitler could see Rolf struggle for a moment before his movements slowed down, getting weaker with each second. Eventually Rolf ceased resistance and Siegfried shoved him behind a sandbagged column out of view of the square where the light did not quite reach. Siegfried grabbed Rolf’s helmet and rifle and took up station outside the building’s entrance. From a distance he would appear to just be another soldier on guard duty.
Hitler, Kuhr and Leichtenberg hustled across the street, quickly entering City Hall. The interior of the Old German Historicist building was rather empty. The clerks and administrative staff that would have been there in the day were long gone, likely in a jail cell somewhere in the city. It seemed even the night staff of janitors and attendants were gone. The place was quiet, void of the revolutionary fervor that had swept through it but a couple of weeks ago.
The three men walked stealthily through the building, wary of any guards who were merely out of sight and hidden. Yet none popped out, none shouted at them with guns raised. The place was as empty as a tomb.
It did not take long for them to find the mayoral office. They only had to follow the light and the sound of yelling.
“Goddamn it, Hermann! How could your men fail so spectacularly?! We damn near killed him. We were close… so close.”
Hitler’s blood ran cold, the pain in his chest temporarily forgotten. He readied his Steyr-Hahn and moved forward, surprising his comrades.
Hitler moved into the room, appraising the sight before. Hermann Hiltl stood, Hands behind his back, fists clenched in frustration. Two guards stood in the room, both Styrian Sturmwache. Sitting at the burgermeister’s desk was Walter Pfrimer, seeming frustrated and exhausted, dark bags under his eyes.
The guards turned, hands off weapons, clearly not expecting a threat. Death was the reward for their overconfidence. Hitler shot both men in the chest, planting two bullets each into center mass. The gunshots echoed loudly in the room as both men fell down, their chests a bloody ruin. Hiltl had a faster reaction, his gun half-out of its holster when Hitler shot and ruined the man’s right knee. Hiltl fell, bone cracking and showing through torn trousers, blood pouring out onto the floor. As he fell Hitler redirected the gun at Pfrimer who sat there, frozen with shock and fear.
“Hands on the table or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Pfrimer’s shaking hands were laid on the expensive wood.
“How does it feel, Walter, to be so utterly helpless?”
Pfrimer did not respond, his face pale which only emphasized the bags under his eyes.
Hitler sat in one of the stuffed armchairs facing the desk, seeing from his peripheral Leichtenberg and Kuhr take up positions in the hallway in case any other guards were in the building.
A squawk emitted from the corner. Hitler glanced over, seeing the radio setup with its various dials and knobs, a microphone stand on the desk.
Hitler smiled.
“Your coup is at an end, Walter. Your would-be revolution has died in its cradle.”
"Damn you, Adi. Why couldn’t you have just died?” Pfrimer’s voice sounded strained, tired. Weak. The man who had ordered his assassination, the one who orchestrated the murder of Lieselotte, was a pale pathetic excuse of a man. Hitler’s face morphed into a sickened sneer.
“You should never have launched this coup. You’ve scarred Social Nationalism with your sedition.”
“You refused to see reason! The government… they couldn’t be trusted, Adi. They would have come after us eventually. I merely wanted to be on the winning side.”
“Your idiocy has murdered my wife and cast my plans into ruin. This is the only way to salvage what’s left.” Hitler moved and put the gun to Pfrimer’s head. The still-hot barrel from firing seated the skin, sending up the smell of cooling meat. Pfrimer whimpered.
Yet Hitler paused. His anger thundered in his heart, yet he thought it through. Killing Pfrimer would leave him in a city surrounded by enemies. And if Pfrimer were to die now, he could be a martyr, a rallying figure for those within the Party who were not lock-in-step with Hitler's vision for the Party and Austria. Regretting the necessity, Hitler gestured to the radio with his head.
“You’re going to tell yours and Hiltl’s men to surrender. It is either that or they can die in the morning and forever be remembered as traitors to the Fatherland.”
Pfrimer looked weakly at the radio then back to Hitler, surprise to be alive evident in his gaze.
“Choose.”
And so Hitler watched him do so, wishing he could shoot the bastard but the situation demanded Pfrimer live for now.
Liese… what will I do without you?
Before arriving at Brigadier General Waber’s command post outside Graz, Hitler had issued orders for Olbrecht and von Starhemberg. If he were to die within the next few hours then Olbrecht was to become the new Party Chairman and von Starhemberg to be his second-in-command. Even now Olbrecht was on his way to Vienna with Hitler’s children. Clear instructions had been given to von Starhemberg on how to corner Seipel into doing what Hitler wanted.
Now, he found himself being smuggled into the city by Siegfried Uiberreither, a local Graz Party member who had stated true to his Führer following Pfrimer’s coup. Behind them trailed Konrad Leichtenberg and Jakob Kuhr. All four were armed with pistols and knives. They had snuck into Graz, thankful that the night sky was filled with dark clouds. Hitler wanted to confront Pfrimer. He was eager to end this stain against Social Nationalism.
He was eager to kill the man who orchestrated his wife’s death.
On the approach into Graz Hitler had been afraid they would have been sighted but Siegfried had chosen well and they slipped into the city without issue. For the next two hours they advanced closer and closer to the Rathaus in Hauptplatz, bypassing patrols of men who seemed ill at ease, shuffling with a weary exhaustion, both physical and psychological. Many whispered insults directed at Hitler and Chancellor Seipel, but far more were directed with greater fervor at Pfrimer and Hiltl. It seemed the rebellion’s inability to spread with widespread support across the country had crippled whatever support Pfrimer had over the Styrian ÖSNVP. Hollow promises rarely proved fruitful to the masses.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” one Styrian Sturmwache had said as he passed them, walking through Graz’s streets in the cold morning air. Breath fogged as he talked. “I joined to save the country from Communists and Jews, not fight my fellow countrymen over a foolish man’s ego.”
“You better be careful, Ludwig,” said one of his fellow squadmates.
“Or what? There isn’t anything Pfrimer can do. He can’t risk losing us.”
"Three of Hiltl’s men were killed yesterday,” the first man countered.
“Hiltl’s men, not Sturmwache. The Frontkämpfervereinigung have different rules. Besides, they can spare the men. We can’t. Last count was we are down almost sixty. Ran away, the damn cowards.”
Hitler couldn’t help but hear the envy in the man’s voice.
“Everyone knows the Bundesheer is killing them.”
“Yeah… everyone knows. It’s true. Our commanders wouldn’t lie to us. Not about that, at least.”
Hitler smirked, hearing the disbelief in their own words. It seemed Pfrimer’s rule was a house of cards, far more fragile than he believed possible.
Twice as they made their way through the city they heard sudden shouts that caused them to freeze in their tracks, half-concealed by trash bins with guns ready in case of discovery. But each time they were quickly relieved to find the alarm was not directed at them, but rather city residents attempting to flee.
Gunfire rang out, as did a scream, then nothing. Nothing but the silence of the dead and the cowed.
It was well past midnight when they reached City Hall. The four-story building was impressive, an impressive looking center of local governance. There were sandbags built up around the doorway but shockingly only a single soldier stood there.
“It has to be a trap,” muttered Kuhr in disbelief. “Pfrimer wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave himself without a platoon of guards nearby.”
Hitler scanned the buildings beside and across City Hall. None had lights on, nor were there any open windows. The square seemed empty but for a squad on patrol opposite side from the Rathaus who even now were walking down a street out of sight. It was unlikely but…
“He doesn’t have the manpower,” Leichtenberg whispered, matching Hitler’s own conclusion. “He can’t spare the men to guard him while so many are trying to flee the city. He’s stretched too thin.”
Kuhr shook his head in surprise. “Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he chided.
“Indeed,” Hitler said, feeling a stab of pain through his chest. Biting his lip till the pain subsided, he tasted blood. When the pain spasm passed he spoke once more. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
As per the plan they cobbled together on the way into Graz, Siegfried Uiberreither stood and quietly crossed the street, avoiding the light given off by street lamps. Now on the other side he stuck to the shadows and moved toward city hall, skirting beside the three- and four-story buildings.
Siegfried began to walk casually towards City Hall, a bounce in his step that appeared at ease in the poor lighting. Coming from the side he neared the front of the building, he called out to the guard. The man had instinctively reached for his weapon but relaxed at the friendly manner and familiar voice of Siegfried. The man’s connections with the Styrian branch of the ÖSNVP was paying off.
Hitler could hear their conversation from here, such was the heavy silence that seeped into the city.
“Siegfried, that you?”
“It is indeed, Rolf!”
“I heard you deserted,” the guard said warily.
Siegfried merely laughed.
“If only that were true. And I heard you were sick with the clap.”
The guard chuckled and crossed himself as Siegfried neared him. “Haven’t yet, though I hear there’s this girl in town that-“
Siegfried’s knife struck the guard in the throat. Whatever cry Rolf would have yelled was muffled by Siegfried’s hand clamped over the dying man’s mouth.
Hitler could see Rolf struggle for a moment before his movements slowed down, getting weaker with each second. Eventually Rolf ceased resistance and Siegfried shoved him behind a sandbagged column out of view of the square where the light did not quite reach. Siegfried grabbed Rolf’s helmet and rifle and took up station outside the building’s entrance. From a distance he would appear to just be another soldier on guard duty.
Hitler, Kuhr and Leichtenberg hustled across the street, quickly entering City Hall. The interior of the Old German Historicist building was rather empty. The clerks and administrative staff that would have been there in the day were long gone, likely in a jail cell somewhere in the city. It seemed even the night staff of janitors and attendants were gone. The place was quiet, void of the revolutionary fervor that had swept through it but a couple of weeks ago.
The three men walked stealthily through the building, wary of any guards who were merely out of sight and hidden. Yet none popped out, none shouted at them with guns raised. The place was as empty as a tomb.
It did not take long for them to find the mayoral office. They only had to follow the light and the sound of yelling.
“Goddamn it, Hermann! How could your men fail so spectacularly?! We damn near killed him. We were close… so close.”
Hitler’s blood ran cold, the pain in his chest temporarily forgotten. He readied his Steyr-Hahn and moved forward, surprising his comrades.
Hitler moved into the room, appraising the sight before. Hermann Hiltl stood, Hands behind his back, fists clenched in frustration. Two guards stood in the room, both Styrian Sturmwache. Sitting at the burgermeister’s desk was Walter Pfrimer, seeming frustrated and exhausted, dark bags under his eyes.
The guards turned, hands off weapons, clearly not expecting a threat. Death was the reward for their overconfidence. Hitler shot both men in the chest, planting two bullets each into center mass. The gunshots echoed loudly in the room as both men fell down, their chests a bloody ruin. Hiltl had a faster reaction, his gun half-out of its holster when Hitler shot and ruined the man’s right knee. Hiltl fell, bone cracking and showing through torn trousers, blood pouring out onto the floor. As he fell Hitler redirected the gun at Pfrimer who sat there, frozen with shock and fear.
“Hands on the table or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Pfrimer’s shaking hands were laid on the expensive wood.
“How does it feel, Walter, to be so utterly helpless?”
Pfrimer did not respond, his face pale which only emphasized the bags under his eyes.
Hitler sat in one of the stuffed armchairs facing the desk, seeing from his peripheral Leichtenberg and Kuhr take up positions in the hallway in case any other guards were in the building.
A squawk emitted from the corner. Hitler glanced over, seeing the radio setup with its various dials and knobs, a microphone stand on the desk.
Hitler smiled.
“Your coup is at an end, Walter. Your would-be revolution has died in its cradle.”
"Damn you, Adi. Why couldn’t you have just died?” Pfrimer’s voice sounded strained, tired. Weak. The man who had ordered his assassination, the one who orchestrated the murder of Lieselotte, was a pale pathetic excuse of a man. Hitler’s face morphed into a sickened sneer.
“You should never have launched this coup. You’ve scarred Social Nationalism with your sedition.”
“You refused to see reason! The government… they couldn’t be trusted, Adi. They would have come after us eventually. I merely wanted to be on the winning side.”
“Your idiocy has murdered my wife and cast my plans into ruin. This is the only way to salvage what’s left.” Hitler moved and put the gun to Pfrimer’s head. The still-hot barrel from firing seated the skin, sending up the smell of cooling meat. Pfrimer whimpered.
Yet Hitler paused. His anger thundered in his heart, yet he thought it through. Killing Pfrimer would leave him in a city surrounded by enemies. And if Pfrimer were to die now, he could be a martyr, a rallying figure for those within the Party who were not lock-in-step with Hitler's vision for the Party and Austria. Regretting the necessity, Hitler gestured to the radio with his head.
“You’re going to tell yours and Hiltl’s men to surrender. It is either that or they can die in the morning and forever be remembered as traitors to the Fatherland.”
Pfrimer looked weakly at the radio then back to Hitler, surprise to be alive evident in his gaze.
“Choose.”
And so Hitler watched him do so, wishing he could shoot the bastard but the situation demanded Pfrimer live for now.
+ + +
The Pfrimer Coup, occasionally referred to as the Styrian Rebellion in some sources, was the epitome of the chaos that plagued Austria post-Great War. Though it lasted less than three weeks and was largely isolated to the city of Graz, the ramifications were nationwide and shook the country's foundations.
The coup emphasized the weakness of an Austrian military burdened by the restrictions of the Treaty of Saint-Germain and the budget cuts of the Seipel government. Walter Pfrimer of the ÖSNVP and Hermann Hiltl of the Frontkämpfervereinigung dared to raise the flag of rebellion, both believing the chaos following Adolf Hitler's near-death in Villach would send the country into a revolutionary fervor and make it ripe for the taking.
It did not.
After Hitler’s wife Lieselotte was murdered by men ordered to kill him when he did not die, the Sozinat Führer went to Graz to confront the traitor to both country and party. Though wounded, Hitler and three other Sozinats snuck into the besieged city and apprehended Pfrimer and Hiltl. With his life on the line the rogue Sozinat Section leader ordered his men to stand down with Hiltl’s men following suit. On the morning of April 10th, 1929 the Austrian Bundesheer entered Graz in force and were faced with very little resistance. Most of the seditious Styrian ÖSNVP and Frontkämpfervereinigung had laid down their arms and were subsequently arrested by Austrian soldiers.
A few dozen rebels did refuse their surrender order, leading to a several hour-long standoff against Bundesheer forces in the Lend District. After a skirmish largely consisting of pot-shots Brigadier General Waber ordered Bundesheer soldiers to eliminate the defiant holdout by noon. Out of the thirty-thirty rebels who refused to comply with the surrender, nineteen were killed in the engagement. The remaining fourteen were arrested, many of whom were wounded and had to medically recover sufficiently to face trial. All fourteen would find themselves guilty and would be given the death penalty by an unforgiving court.
The coup, though crushed with relative ease, was a stark reminder of the young republic’s fragility. Austria was already rife with economic vulnerability and the would-be rebellion strained Chancellor Seipel’s government to the breaking point. This weakness was soon coupled with damning evidence of corruption in the Seipel government. Furthermore leaked photos and documents pertaining to the chancellor's family proved to be of great embarrassment to him.
Many within the Christian Social Party called for Seipel’s resignation. This was made worse when news broke out of the murder of Walter Pfrimer and Hermann Hiltl, both interred in Karlau Prison in Graz's Gries District. The murderer(s) were not caught nor seen while the subsequent investigation was plagued with misinformation, internal delays and interference from Vienna, leading many to believe someone in government was able to eliminate the two before their trial though the truth of the matter was never ascertained. While many law abiding Austrians were outraged that due process had not occurred, especially as criticisms were soon issued from neighboring countries who viewed the Styrian Rebellion with wearied apprehension, far more of the republic’s citizenry were pleased that justice of a sorts had been served and that the traitors were dead.
As support from his own party collapsed Ignaz Seipel resigned from the chancellorship he had held for over seven years on April 15th, 1929. The next day Vice-Chancellor Gustav Gross announced a snap election to be held in early May.
Christian Socials, despite having overseen the defeat of Pfrimer’s coup, were worried their grip on Parliament would weaken while the National Liberals hoped to increase their hold by benefit of association without the political baggage Seipel’s downfall heralded.
The election was scheduled to take place in the first week of May with every political party scrambling to gain an advantage. Radio waves, newspapers and town halls across Austria were filled with ideologues generating support for their parties. Acting Chancellor Gustav Gross soon became burdened with a caretaker government rife with lethargy and scandal.
When the election took place on May 6th, just days after the end of Blutmai in Berlin, the Austrian people rushed to the polling stations to let their voice be heard.
The results soon shocked the nation.
Despite inadvertently setting into motion the Styrian Rebellion due to the clash between the Republikanischer Schutzbund and the Sturmwache at Villach, the Social Democratic Workers’ Party of Austria emerged from the election with the largest gains, securing 77 seats in the National Council. Six seats short of the majority, the SDAPÖ formed a coalition with the Landbund who departed the CS-NLF-HB coalition in frustration. The Landbund’s leader Franz Winkler released a statement that detailed his party’s unhappiness with the Christian Social-led government and felt that Landbund voters had not greatly benefitted under Seipel’s chancellorship. Having secured nine National Council seats on their own, the Landbund secured a legislative majority for the Social Democrats, elevating SDAPÖ leader Karl Seitz to the chancellorship with Franz Winkler becoming Vice-Chancellor and Minister of Forestry and Agriculture.
The Christian Socials, National Liberals and Social Nationalists all lost parliamentary seats, as could be expected. The CS and NLF due to the coup and stagnant economy happening under their purview while Pfrimer’s party affiliation damned the Sozinats in Styria. In spite of the losses, Hitler and the rest of the ÖSNVP came out of the event in a largely positive light due to their anti-Pfrimer efforts and Hitler’s capture of Pfrimer and Hiltl. For better or worse many across Austria began to view Hitler in a respectable light, noting his career as a soldier during the Great War, his actions in Carinthia and as Austria’s ambassador to Japan. Though thousands voiced concern over the Sozinats platform of militant revanchism, corporatism, nationalism and racism, those same thousands would admit, often publicly, that Hitler was a man of action and a patriot who held Austria’s best interests at heart. This reflected in the 1929 election as in many of the National Council races the Sozinat candidate overperformed, stealing votes from frustrated Christian Social and Heimatblock voters, albeit rarely winning said races which allowed the Social Democrats to seize several surprise victories due to divided right-wing vote.
Over the following weeks the diminished Christian Social Party faced an internal crisis of confidence and identity, with factions forming to clamor for leadership. These actions threatened to tear the party apart which it of course did. The political schism that followed in late Spring of 1929 would forever divide the Christian Social Party, preventing it from ever winning another election before being permanently disbanded during the Sozinat regime, never to return.
And it was due to that schism within the Christian Social Party in 1929 that would set the stage for Hitler’s rise to power only three years later and the subsequent creation of the Austrian State within the next half-decade…
Blood and Steel: The Rise and Fall of Austrofascism
by Dr. Richard Newell
by Dr. Richard Newell
Vienna, Austria
Republic of Austria
June 1929
Republic of Austria
June 1929
The downpour was finally letting up prior to dawn, morphing into a heavy drizzle rather than an unending torrent. To Adolf Hitler it seemed a sign, as if the dark times were ending and that the new day would herald better times.
In spite of the gloomy weather Hitler had taken his children with him to the cemetery, leaving the house with sufficient security an hour before much of the city was truly awake. Amalie and Wolfgang sat silent in the car as it made its way through the semi-empty streets of Vienna, both tightly clutching flowers. Two cars accompanied them, both filled with Sturmwache men. Olbrecht and von Starhemberg were taking zero risks when it came to his security. Jakob Kuhr sat in the front seat of the Steyr Type XII automobile, scanning the sidewalks and the cars passing or approaching.
As the three vehicles entered the Groß-Jedlersdorfer Friedhof Cemetery, Hitler heard his son begin to tear up, recognizing the place.
Hitler stared down at Wolfgang in disappointment. “Shush, son, do not embarrass your mother with such weakness.”
The boy flinched as if struck yet rubbed his nose fiercely, quieting then stopping his pathetic cries. Amalie did not cry. She merely stared out the window, watching the tombstones pass by. Hitler had seen his daughter retreat within herself since Lieselotte’s burial, withdrawn and sullen. For a while Hitler feared she would fall into a depression she would never claw herself out of. Thankfully over the last few days she had become more like her old self, merely quieter, less outwardly cheerful.
It did not take long for the cars to arrive near the grave. Hitler and his children left the car, engine still running and driver standing by. The other two car complements of SW men stood, eying the trees and bushes for any potential threat, yet it appeared few were present but old widows visiting their loved ones. Hitler walked with his children, each hand holding one of theirs. Kuhr followed several steps away, hand near the hip where a pistol rested in its holster.
Sixty meters from the road was Lieselotte and Klara’s grave. Hitler stood in front of it and motioned for his children to place their flowers on the grave. They did so, watching on with silenced sadness threatening to overwhelm them. Hitler felt his own eyes water and was thankful the tears could be hidden by the rain.
The tombstone read ‘Lieselotte and Klara Hitler, Loving Mother and Daughter, Taken Too Soon.’ Klara, named after his mother. They had agreed on the names months before, Luther for a son, Klara for a girl.
They stood there for a moment.
“Let us pray,” Hitler said, releasing his hands from the children to clasp them together. Amalie and Wolfgang followed suit and all three bowed their heads, lips moving as they prayed quietly. Though he was an atheist Hitler himself did not feel like a fraud for his false piety. Austria was a deeply religious and conservative country and appearances needed to be maintained. If one were to see him just now, some passerby visiting a loved one, they would see Adolf Hitler visiting the grave of his wife and unborn daughter with hands clasped in piety towards God. It would help win him the Austrian people and, perhaps even, the support of the Catholic Church whose considerable sway in the Fatherland could not be disputed.
While they prayed, Hitler heard someone approach and whisper in Kuhr’s ear. Hitler quickly finished, setting his hands on his children’s shoulders and turned to face the chief of his personal bodyguard, another Sturmwache man standing beside him.
Jakob Kuhr had a strange look on his face.
“What is it?” Hitler asked.
“Mein Führer, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” He asked, perplexed.
“Engelbert Dollfuss.” Kuhr gestured back towards the cars where a fourth vehicle now waited.
Hitler frowned. Why would the former Deputy Minister of Forestry and Agriculture want to see him? Filled with curiosity, he shrugged.
“I’ll speak with him.”
Kuhr nodded and looked at the SW man who ran over to the fourth vehicle to inform the occupants. Hitler began walking back to the cars and when near to his own, he gestured to Amalie and Wolfgang to enter the car while he walked to Dollfuss’ vehicle, opening the door and noting Dollfuss’ driver and front seat passenger exit the car to stand outside it. Privacy was desired apparently.
Strange and becoming ever more curious.
The first thing Hitler thought of when he sat down beside Engelbert Dollfuss was that the man was comically short, evident even while they were sitting. Yet despite his short stature the former Christian Social deputy minister had a certain presence, a gravitas that belayed his physical stature.
The former Kaiserschützen lieutenant gave a polite nod as Hitler made himself comfortable.
“The famous Adolf Hitler, at last. Pleasure, mein Herr.” Dollfuss crossed his legs and looked thoughtfully at Hitler.
“Pleasure, Herr Dollfuss.” Hitler rubbed his mustache for a moment to gather his thoughts. “And what is the purpose for this meeting?”
“Straight to the point, I see. I like that.” Dollfuss offered a smile that was anything but warm. “It will be announced within the next day or two that I have formally left the Christian Social Party. A day or so after that I will announce at a public press conference that I will be creating a new political party called the Fatherland Front, a political refuge for those Christian Socials who have become jaded with the path the party had taken as of late.”
Hitler knew his face had hardened into an unkind presentation.
“So that’s it then? You wish for me to join this Fatherland Front?”
Dollfuss surprised Hitler by laughing. Hitler in most instances would have become angry but the suddenness and mirth in the laughter gave him pause.
Once he had ceased his chuckling, Dollfuss answered him.
“No, of course not, mein Herr. I know you feel strongly about Social Nationalism. Besides you are all but master over your followers. Why change that? No, I have another reason to come to you today. I want us, the Fatherland Front and Social Nationalists, to join forces yet remain our own individual movements.”
Hitler’s intrigue piqued. “An alliance then?”
“An alliance of understanding but yes. We agree not to campaign against one another, your Sturmwache will not interfere in my Front’s rallies in the future and I will not fund anyone to run against your candidates in future elections. In Parliament our councilors vote as a united bloc or at the very least do not impede one another’s proposed legislation. We share similar views, Herr Hitler. We both want a strong Austria, we have similar platforms concerning the military and economy, and we both despise communism. Together we can draw votes away from the Christian Socials, Heimatblock and National Liberals. Together we can dominate the right-wing sphere of Austrian politics and present a more organized and staunch opposition against Seitz’s government. Together we can stop the downfall of our beloved Vaterland as partners and allies and, when the time comes, we lead Austria towards a brighter future.”
Dollfuss stopped, looking closely at Hitler through hooded eyes.
“What do you think, Herr Hitler? Do we have an agreement?”
It took but a moment for Hitler to come to his conclusion. He knew it wasn’t perfect, and knew he would never fully trust Dollfuss, but the man had never done anything untoward Hitler and had often criticized Seipel and Gross. An alliance of convenience would give the Party time to recover from Pfrimer’s coup, lessen the pressures of combating rival right-wing parties on its own, and if the alliance Dollfuss desired collapsed in the future, well, it was better to know your enemy. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, and your potential enemies the closest of all. If, no, when the Fatherland Front and the ÖSNVP ruled the country they would do so as equal partners… for a time at least. In Hitler’s mind it was better to join Dollfuss early than waste time and resources combating him for little gain.
So it was obvious what he should do.
“We are in agreement, Herr Dollfuss. We’ll work together to stop the decay of our beloved nation and we will save it.”
Dollfuss smiled, which Hitler returned, and both nodded.
“Together,” Dollfuss began, “we can accomplish many great things. Austria will be ours to rule soon enough.”
Hitler plastered cheerfulness on his face, all the while his inner thoughts responded differently.
Not ours, Millimetternich, but mine. I’ll work with you as long as it is convenient but Austria will be mine one day. Mine and mine alone.
In spite of the gloomy weather Hitler had taken his children with him to the cemetery, leaving the house with sufficient security an hour before much of the city was truly awake. Amalie and Wolfgang sat silent in the car as it made its way through the semi-empty streets of Vienna, both tightly clutching flowers. Two cars accompanied them, both filled with Sturmwache men. Olbrecht and von Starhemberg were taking zero risks when it came to his security. Jakob Kuhr sat in the front seat of the Steyr Type XII automobile, scanning the sidewalks and the cars passing or approaching.
As the three vehicles entered the Groß-Jedlersdorfer Friedhof Cemetery, Hitler heard his son begin to tear up, recognizing the place.
Hitler stared down at Wolfgang in disappointment. “Shush, son, do not embarrass your mother with such weakness.”
The boy flinched as if struck yet rubbed his nose fiercely, quieting then stopping his pathetic cries. Amalie did not cry. She merely stared out the window, watching the tombstones pass by. Hitler had seen his daughter retreat within herself since Lieselotte’s burial, withdrawn and sullen. For a while Hitler feared she would fall into a depression she would never claw herself out of. Thankfully over the last few days she had become more like her old self, merely quieter, less outwardly cheerful.
It did not take long for the cars to arrive near the grave. Hitler and his children left the car, engine still running and driver standing by. The other two car complements of SW men stood, eying the trees and bushes for any potential threat, yet it appeared few were present but old widows visiting their loved ones. Hitler walked with his children, each hand holding one of theirs. Kuhr followed several steps away, hand near the hip where a pistol rested in its holster.
Sixty meters from the road was Lieselotte and Klara’s grave. Hitler stood in front of it and motioned for his children to place their flowers on the grave. They did so, watching on with silenced sadness threatening to overwhelm them. Hitler felt his own eyes water and was thankful the tears could be hidden by the rain.
The tombstone read ‘Lieselotte and Klara Hitler, Loving Mother and Daughter, Taken Too Soon.’ Klara, named after his mother. They had agreed on the names months before, Luther for a son, Klara for a girl.
They stood there for a moment.
“Let us pray,” Hitler said, releasing his hands from the children to clasp them together. Amalie and Wolfgang followed suit and all three bowed their heads, lips moving as they prayed quietly. Though he was an atheist Hitler himself did not feel like a fraud for his false piety. Austria was a deeply religious and conservative country and appearances needed to be maintained. If one were to see him just now, some passerby visiting a loved one, they would see Adolf Hitler visiting the grave of his wife and unborn daughter with hands clasped in piety towards God. It would help win him the Austrian people and, perhaps even, the support of the Catholic Church whose considerable sway in the Fatherland could not be disputed.
While they prayed, Hitler heard someone approach and whisper in Kuhr’s ear. Hitler quickly finished, setting his hands on his children’s shoulders and turned to face the chief of his personal bodyguard, another Sturmwache man standing beside him.
Jakob Kuhr had a strange look on his face.
“What is it?” Hitler asked.
“Mein Führer, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” He asked, perplexed.
“Engelbert Dollfuss.” Kuhr gestured back towards the cars where a fourth vehicle now waited.
Hitler frowned. Why would the former Deputy Minister of Forestry and Agriculture want to see him? Filled with curiosity, he shrugged.
“I’ll speak with him.”
Kuhr nodded and looked at the SW man who ran over to the fourth vehicle to inform the occupants. Hitler began walking back to the cars and when near to his own, he gestured to Amalie and Wolfgang to enter the car while he walked to Dollfuss’ vehicle, opening the door and noting Dollfuss’ driver and front seat passenger exit the car to stand outside it. Privacy was desired apparently.
Strange and becoming ever more curious.
The first thing Hitler thought of when he sat down beside Engelbert Dollfuss was that the man was comically short, evident even while they were sitting. Yet despite his short stature the former Christian Social deputy minister had a certain presence, a gravitas that belayed his physical stature.
The former Kaiserschützen lieutenant gave a polite nod as Hitler made himself comfortable.
“The famous Adolf Hitler, at last. Pleasure, mein Herr.” Dollfuss crossed his legs and looked thoughtfully at Hitler.
“Pleasure, Herr Dollfuss.” Hitler rubbed his mustache for a moment to gather his thoughts. “And what is the purpose for this meeting?”
“Straight to the point, I see. I like that.” Dollfuss offered a smile that was anything but warm. “It will be announced within the next day or two that I have formally left the Christian Social Party. A day or so after that I will announce at a public press conference that I will be creating a new political party called the Fatherland Front, a political refuge for those Christian Socials who have become jaded with the path the party had taken as of late.”
Hitler knew his face had hardened into an unkind presentation.
“So that’s it then? You wish for me to join this Fatherland Front?”
Dollfuss surprised Hitler by laughing. Hitler in most instances would have become angry but the suddenness and mirth in the laughter gave him pause.
Once he had ceased his chuckling, Dollfuss answered him.
“No, of course not, mein Herr. I know you feel strongly about Social Nationalism. Besides you are all but master over your followers. Why change that? No, I have another reason to come to you today. I want us, the Fatherland Front and Social Nationalists, to join forces yet remain our own individual movements.”
Hitler’s intrigue piqued. “An alliance then?”
“An alliance of understanding but yes. We agree not to campaign against one another, your Sturmwache will not interfere in my Front’s rallies in the future and I will not fund anyone to run against your candidates in future elections. In Parliament our councilors vote as a united bloc or at the very least do not impede one another’s proposed legislation. We share similar views, Herr Hitler. We both want a strong Austria, we have similar platforms concerning the military and economy, and we both despise communism. Together we can draw votes away from the Christian Socials, Heimatblock and National Liberals. Together we can dominate the right-wing sphere of Austrian politics and present a more organized and staunch opposition against Seitz’s government. Together we can stop the downfall of our beloved Vaterland as partners and allies and, when the time comes, we lead Austria towards a brighter future.”
Dollfuss stopped, looking closely at Hitler through hooded eyes.
“What do you think, Herr Hitler? Do we have an agreement?”
It took but a moment for Hitler to come to his conclusion. He knew it wasn’t perfect, and knew he would never fully trust Dollfuss, but the man had never done anything untoward Hitler and had often criticized Seipel and Gross. An alliance of convenience would give the Party time to recover from Pfrimer’s coup, lessen the pressures of combating rival right-wing parties on its own, and if the alliance Dollfuss desired collapsed in the future, well, it was better to know your enemy. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, and your potential enemies the closest of all. If, no, when the Fatherland Front and the ÖSNVP ruled the country they would do so as equal partners… for a time at least. In Hitler’s mind it was better to join Dollfuss early than waste time and resources combating him for little gain.
So it was obvious what he should do.
“We are in agreement, Herr Dollfuss. We’ll work together to stop the decay of our beloved nation and we will save it.”
Dollfuss smiled, which Hitler returned, and both nodded.
“Together,” Dollfuss began, “we can accomplish many great things. Austria will be ours to rule soon enough.”
Hitler plastered cheerfulness on his face, all the while his inner thoughts responded differently.
Not ours, Millimetternich, but mine. I’ll work with you as long as it is convenient but Austria will be mine one day. Mine and mine alone.
Wow, the Austrofascists and Sozinat are allies (for now). Guess we now get our Sozinat version of Night of the Long Knives then ?
Thank you! Glad to be back. And glad to finally be done with Book 2’s rough draft. I’ll be working on the final draft over the summer.
Yes the Fatherland Front and Sozinats will be allies for the foreseeable future. Think of it as Austria’s version of the Harzburg Front. It’s. A bit strange since the Fatherland Front’s OTL symbol is the ÖSNVP’s symbol (the Kruckenkreuz). The Fatherland Front’s symbol will be a simple VF, white on a black field.
(Stabs with Hitler Youth knife)
The original goal was for Hitler to kill Pfrimer in Graz but that would have led to some problems so I changed it to how it played out in the chapter.
Appreciate it!
Fantastic update! An alliance between Dollfuss and Hitler looks promising. Though Hitlerʼs daughter’s quietness leaves me worried, though it is completely understandable. I feel as though as the Hitler children grow Wolfgang might become a critic of his Old Man’s way of doing things while Amalie is very loyal to her father’s vision.
There is a lot of political instability still. The Nazis may not exist, but the FDAS (Free German Workers’ League) is the Nazi-analogue led by Gregor Strasser. The SA still exists and led by Roehm, which is part of the FDAS.
Good thing nothing bad happens in October (looks at Great Depression).
Kind of the plan. Amalie will be similar to Himmler’s daughter and be a fanatic Sozinat while Wolfgang’s path hasn’t been set in stone yet.
Speaking of children, I have begun outlining a semi-sequel standalone novel set 30+ years after WW2 where one of the children mentioned in the story thus far becomes the Chancellor of Austria who becomes involved in a neo-Sozinat plot to overthrow the Austrian government, including assassinating a Democratic President Reagan when he visits the country for a NATO summit. May never happen but it’s fun to plan/think about.
Also I do want to test the waters with this from the Der Kampf Community. So Lieselotte was planned to be alive the whole time until the end of the war but due to my poor writing for her character and feedback I knew I needed to get rid of her as she added nothing.
However I recently learned about Unity Mitford who could easily be Hitler’s mistress in the 1930s/1940s, perhaps even a second wife in the same vein as Eva Braun. Hitler wouldn’t care for her much, just for the physicality as by the time they meet he is Führer of the Austrian State.
What are y’all’s thoughts on including Unity Mitford as Hitler’s mistress later on in the series?
I certainly don't mind. As long as you're confident that you can make it work, I'm cool with whatever direction you want to take things.
No offense, but unless it's done to genuinely impact the story for the better, I'd honestly not support the idea. Lieselotte felt tacked-on at the start, and given your description of what you envision for the replacement, it doesn't seem worth your time. That said, it's your choice, not mine, and perhaps you'll prove me wrong.
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