The workers of Britain, of America, or France,
and of Germany find it hard to decide which is the worse, the desperado gangster tactics of the ravenous German capitalists or the uneasy sanctimoniousness of the sated capitalists of the victorious powers
~ John Strachey,
The Menace of Fascism
Hamburg station was cramped amongst the unprecedented mass of revolutionaries pouring in as they strove to get out of the city and out to their assigned sites for the coming battle.
Many of the conductors and onlookers appeared uneasy seeing so many of the city’s defenders heading south although the fanfare of Hitler’s impromptu rally carried the men leading their assembled units forward with some level of organisational zeal as they lined up along the platforms, the trains ready to deliver them for the coming battle. Johann did his best to instill in the dozen Communists he had been given to command the revolutionary fanaticism that Hitler had channeled, he was satisfied to see his Social Democrat and Trade Unionist contemporaries who had also been at the presentation doing the same.
Feder was within sight near the end of the train, trying to organise the porters loading on cargo would have to be taken to Lehrte with the revolutionaries; rifles, ammunition, grenades and a number of machine guns amongst other items. This was a pleasant surprise, reaffirming Johann’s hopes that everything was in hand just as Hitler had pledged. The dozen men now under his command were strangers to him but they all seemed as if they could handle themselves. Long gone were the days that the KPD had been a party consisting of intellectuals and those changes had all been made for this moment.
“Here, we can’t outfit everyone but this will at least show you’re the ones to blame if everything goes wrong,” Feder emerged from the porters with several boxes and from them threw two grey field jackets towards Johann and Lars before handing the rest out to other late arrivals who had attended the presentation. Those who had been selected to lead squads in the defence of the railheads had hastily been promoted to Sergeants in the new People’s Guard.
“I’m beginning to understand why so many of you follow your boss around,” Lars shouted above the din of steam whistles and shunting trains, “I’m just hoping he doesn’t get me killed.”
Johann chuckled as he tried to put his own coat on in a style that might represent authority, “Iron will remember? I’ve been fighting with him for over a decade and I’m still here.” In thinking back to that time he couldn’t help but recall the French officer who had spared him the firing squad in the Ruhr. It had been Hitler’s plan that had got him captured but he had been left to rot when it went wrong. He put such thoughts out of his mind, this was a triumphant moment and in any case he wouldn’t have been captured in the first place if that Freikorps straggler hadn’t blown himself up rather than the French. Here he had allies who had already come to his rescue once thanks to Hitler’s alliance building. This new strategy, carried out together, was bound to succeed if carried out properly with due faith in the revolution.
---
"I still feel like this situation is too risky."
Hans Kahle had waited until the operations room was cleared of those who had attended the presentation before he voiced his lingering doubts.
“The People’s Guard forces we have arranged so far are only the first part of a broader revolutionary army, their task is to sabotage Von Schleicher for as long as possible until the revolution can break out across Germany. Even if we lose everything here our strategy will continue to play itself out.” Hitler looked up from his folder to see that Kahle was more than slightly aghast.
“At any rate, such tactics worked in the Ruhr.”
“Taking risks with men’s lives is inevitable in war but to expend them just to ensure a major fight early on feels counter-productive.” Adolf looked to Kahle’s colleague and staff counterpart, Ludwig Renn. If both members of his staff were expressing doubts then the operation might as well be doomed.
“Well if we’re defeated at the railheads then we’re in for a nightmare of troubles but we’re prepared for that, and we might even succeed.” Renn shrugged rather than dwell on the implications of the strategy. Hitler had cemented himself as leader and for better or worse his strategy would be seen through.
"We have no choice either way, it's go all out now or wither and die. An early victory is what Von Schleicher wants, but avoiding that only plays into the hands of the Reichswehr in the long term as well. We may well fail to hold them off but forcing them into such a battle will allow us to triumph, eventually."
“And you’re certain they won’t try to attack Hamburg before the railheads.”
“Well if they do then we’re f-”
Adolf cut himself off due to the appearance of one of his newfound allies at the door.
Ernst Mehr appeared out of place navigating the military briefing room, seeming like he had entered a new world after going down a rabbit hole. Adolf could understand but without sympathy. He was sure he would have felt equally as lost in the chambers of the Reichstag but it was that sort of world that had forced him to thrive in these circumstances. Mehr, like much of the Weimar establishment, would soon have to adapt or die.
If he's worth salvaging, that is, Adolf thought to himself, excusing his fellow veterans. Both nodded to Mehr but the Social Democrat barely acknowledged them as they departed, he was here for the boss.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you amidst all of this but we have a new arrival from overseas."
"Another one of your foreign intellectuals come to shake hands? You would think some of these people would have tried to bring volunteers, or weapons at least!" Adolf replied dismissively, still focused on the maps denoting the dispersal of forces outside of Hamburg.
Maybe he was leaving the city garrison too weak.
"Actually it's a bit more promising than that. Two members of the British parliament have been dispatched to meet with us. Off the record." Adolf paused momentarily as he tried to consider what this development could mean, before scowling at the smug grin he'd seen far too often on Ernst's face in recent weeks. The man had gotten him to pay attention and he knew it,
"Something from Stalin would have been more reassuring-" Adolf mused. He wasn't even sure if he believed that himself, only that it might take the smile off of Ernst’s face. With the situation as it was he had hoped that he would be vindicated in the eyes of the Kremlin even if he and Stalin had denounced each other in the month’s beforehand but so far there was only silence from the self-proclaimed leaders of the socialist world in the Kremlin.
It was a similar line to the British and the French, although both of those governments appeared to be more conciliatory in their tone to the developing situation across Germany, rendering them equally unhelpful. If anything Adolf had been relieved they hadn't thrown their lot in with Von Schleicher.
Mussolini's puppet had already gained the support of most of the other European autocracies. From Portugal to Finland, Mussolini's rallying cry of support was being heeded. Adolf couldn't wait to expose this international fascist plot once victory had been achieved. It would make way for a vigorous cleansing of Germany, one which would make conditions even stronger for the new society he would introduce. The revolution the fascists had moved to destroy, conversely, would be borne by their scheming.
But for now…
"However I had to cut ties with Moscow to protect the independence of the German workers movement. Hopefully these visitors will help us enable that, if they can achieve a good name for us in England."
Satisfied that the Communist leader saw things his way, Ernst beckoned Adolf to the SPD section within the hotel, where their guests were waiting
---
In the empty office which appeared to have recently belonged to a custodian, John Strachey sat with his friend Tom in silence. Listening to the bustle outside, the intrigue that came from the turbulent echoes were making for better company than his old companion who brooded impatiently. Strachey knew the furtive trip was one of Tom’s many jaunts away without his wife but this was one of the few where his travelling companion had been a party colleague. He checked his watch out of habit before looking around the room for what must have been the thousandth time.
A genuine revolution and here they were, in the midst of it. Granted they were observers but that did not mean they were without agency. The Labour MPs who had gone to Russia in 1917 had backed the wrong side, that which was opposed to the Russian workers and opposed to history. He would not be so naive and he couldn't allow himself to let Tom down.
After his memorandum to revitalise the Labour government’s economic policy had been rejected by the parliamentary party, Tom had resigned from the Cabinet. Many had described his resignation as a great stand for principle against mediocrity but John’s friend had been dejected ever since, looking for new paths to implement his ideas. Some of which went down dark avenues.
John had been disheartened too but the fact that the reforms for eliminating unemployment by a merging and overhaul of the economic and political power structures of the country had been supported by the party conference gave him hope. Having convinced his friend to join him on this excursion he hoped he could convince Tom that a solution could still be found in rallying the left in Britain and taking their cause to the people, much the same as what was unfolding here in Hamburg.
“Are you sure they haven’t forgotten about us?” Tom asked. smooth as his friend appeared he was easily made irritable.
“They won’t be much longer now I’d imagine, but I think we can forgive them for that!” John hoped making light of Tom’s impatience might cheer his friend up but if anything it seemed to make him more restive.
“And if we’re taking up their time then that just makes this enterprise a waste of both of our days. Time for reflection is one thing but it’s difficult in this grimy dockyard of a city, we’d be better off back in London, seeing how many of the signatories to the memorandum are ready to break with their old parties.”
“This isn’t the time for that,” John sighed, “all that would accomplish is to burn up all your political capital in achieving such a break. MacDonald’s government is doomed, everyone knows it but if you try and strike the killing blow and build a new movement at the same time, you’ll just alienate those we could rely upon when it inevitably collapses due to its own incompetence.”
“30 MPs from the Labour party alone John, closer to 40 when you consider Tories and Liberals who signed in sympathy, and those queuing up to donate-” John shivered, industrialists were very keen to take Tom under their wing. As they had been with Mussolini.
“-that’s the basis of a new party if there ever was one. A fresh start. We could even call it The New Party and people would vote for us.”
“Tom, if we’re going to commit political suicide we might as well go down with a better name than that.” This time, Tom did laugh.
A knock on the door focused John’s mind on the task at hand, as their colleague from the Socialist International emerged, alongside the leader of the German Communists who appeared to have been dragged into a grey suit via a hedge.
In trying to cover for their being made to wait, John sprung up from his chair in the closet-office before Ernst could introduce the man.
“It’s a great pleasure to meet someone who has done so much to bring to light the need to unite the workers movement internationally” he chanted loudly at the man who could only speak German, vigorously shaking Hitler’s somewhat limp hand. Ernst hastily translated, causing the dishevelled Communist to brighten up slightly even as it proved the poor state of John’s German.
It was, however, better than Tom’s.
“Comrade Hitler please let me introduce you to my colleague from the Labour party, Sir Oswald Mosley.” Tom, clocking his name in the introduction rose to greet the man more formally.
“Sir?” Hitler regurgitated raspily, causing Ernst to make another quickfire explanation that John could only understand pieces of. Seeming placated by Ernst’s explanation, Hitler grasped Tom’s hand tightly and spoke at length in that same, strange, German accent.
“My colleague would like to welcome you both to Hamburg, he wanted to take the time to greet you both personally as we hope your visit here will not only help enhance the strength and solidarity of the British and German workers but will also help the outside world understand the essential need to support us in our present struggle.
“Yes, it’s a pleasure. Although I’m afraid my colleague may have exaggerated our ability to do the latter, I am no longer in the Cabinet.” Tom’s candour caused Ernst to blink.
“We’ll do what we can,” John added hurriedly, trying out his German once again. This got a nod from both Mehr and Hitler, the first time they had appeared united on something.
John wasn’t wide of the mark, for both had it in their heads at that moment that they had wasted their time in greeting a couple of tourists.
---
The print is
Returning to the Trenches by Christopher Nevinson
