Chapter LXXXII
In reality the ‘crisis’ of fascism is not new. It has always existed. Once the contingent reasons that maintained the unity of these anti-proletarian groups ceased, it was inevitable that their latent disagreements would quickly flare up. The crisis, therefore, is nothing other than the clarification of pre-existing tendencies.
~ Antonio Gramsci, The Two Fascisms
“You need to go outside!”~ Antonio Gramsci, The Two Fascisms
“But I don’t want to!”
“Don't you want to see the snow?”
Rosa Muller grumbled and put her head in her arms. The motion was meant to dissuade the woman looking after her. Eva, for her part sighed and began to hum until the 10 year old got over herself. They had been cooped up in the safehouse in Mitte ever since the Reichswehr had seized control of Berlin. Now, at last, the soldiers were leaving.
There was no radio in the cramped rooms in which far too many people dwelled in secrecy. Eva had dyed her hair blonde upon advice from her boyfriend but now he was likely dead and her brown roots were returning.
Still the rumours rippled through that the alliance the Communists had made with the Social Democrats was paying off. Those who brought food and messages said the alliance was defeating the Reichswehr across Germany and that was the reason their troops had been pulling out of the city; they couldn’t spare the manpower any longer.
It was encouraging news and Eva embraced it without reservation. There were others who warned these were only rumours and the Reichswehr departing the city was merely a sign that resistance had ceased outside of it but she felt such a thing would have been delivered with more fanfare. Either way if the Reicshwehr departed then she need only worry about the police or the blackshirts and neither of them possessed the surgical efficiency in hunting down left-wing journalists those departing the city had. She could go outside and try and see if she could buy some food. Or peroxide.
She wanted the little girl to come with her, the thought of a child not being able to go outside to see the snow awakened a reverence for her own childhood. In the safehouse all did their bit to look out for each other (one needed to have a proven commitment to the cause to be there after all) but the only person especially interested in the child was the woman she had arrived with, Christina, and she had gone away on party business.
“If we go outside I can try and find us some chocolate, how does that sound?” There was no immediate change in the girl’s pout but Eva thought she noticed a reaction.
“The bad men are still out there” Rosa finally replied.
“But there are less of them and they’re scared now as well. If we’re careful we can avoid them.”
“If we can avoid them then why can’t my mum come back?”
Eva paused at the awkwardness of the question, she only vaguely knew of the child’s mother but there weren’t many safehouses in Berlin and if she hadn’t come back to her daughter then the odds were she wouldn’t be coming back at all.
“Maybe she’s out there looking for you just now,” Eva argued in a clumsy attempt at reassurance, “and she would want you to be getting some exercise at any rate!”
Rosa looked up at last and finally nodded, lumping on the heavy coat she had arrived in.
At least someone had been prepared for a protracted civil war Eva thought to herself, longing for the furs she had been forced to leave back at her apartment. Wearing a summer jacket in December was hardly going to be ideal but she wagered it wouldn’t be too bad with the sun strong in the sky and a brisk walk.
Eva and Rosa stepped out of the sleepy basement hand in hand but not before Eva had peeped her head out to see if there was anyone with eyes on them. There was no-one guarding the exit at this hour and there didn’t seem to be anyone watching the street either.
Perhaps the notion of going out for a wander was more banal than her need for adventure had implied?
She felt the coolness of the light covering of snow on the soles of her shoes and breathed in the crisp, fresh air like a draught of beer on a warm summer's day. After so long stuck inside a stuffy set of grey apartments Eva delighted in the little things. Rosa seemed more cautious of the world around her, sheepishly keeping herself close to her grip on Eva’s arm, and so Eva took them both forward towards the nearby park, trying to avoid the burnt down wreck of Karl Liebknecht Haus or thoughts of her boyfriend Johann, who she had last seen taking up arms to defend the building.
The Communists offered excellent stories to an aspiring photojournalist but their man tended to be rather gruff with harsh accents, some of them Eastern European or even Jewish. Johann had been her diamond in the rough amongst them all and had made her pursuit of stories far more interesting. She had found a fellow adventurer in him and now he was likely dead she wondered what ties she really had to the party. Their leader Hitler certainly had an allure to him, but like many Communists he had that annoying habit of clapping along with the crowd while making a speech. Still, if the Communists were going to win this war that meant opportunities for those connected to the party as well and she was confident she would find someone new, perhaps a war hero. In the meantime it seemed the little girl had acquiesced to being her friend and as such she’d take her to the Kleiner Tiergarten park where she and Johann would sometimes wander. Perhaps the flea market was still there.
The walk to the park took them about half an hour, they walked slowly to avoid slipping on any ice hidden underneath the snow but they had also gone a deliberately longer route than they might otherwise have taken. It would have been quicker to walk past the military drill grounds but Eva was wary of Rosa seeing any soldiers and that was the one place there were guaranteed to be some Reichswehr, she wasn’t too enamoured with the prospect herself.
There was little conversation between the two of them, the nearly vacant streets had a ubiquitous silence that imposed itself on the pair making things even more awkward. Seeing the bare trees in the park was a relief for Eva even if many of them appeared to have been cut down as at least she could see people amongst them. There was a strong smell of stock in the air and Eva’s belly rumbled at the thought of a proper meal. What was made available in the safehouse was provided with much care and consideration but it never amounted to a satisfied stomach. She put the thoughts of peroxide out of her mind and pursued the smell instead. Rosa seemed to be apprehensive to see so many new faces but Eva pulled her along regardless. The girl needed a proper meal more than she did.
The wares on offer on the market stalls were rather strange, but the vendors appeared to be doing well for themselves. A man wearing a womens fur coat and mink looked more than a little ridiculous but he held a crowbar in his hand he would bash on every sack he had gathered around him every time he made a sale. A sign painted crudely alongside him appeared to be of his own design:
PEAT - BEST OFFER - NO TIME WASTERS
He nodded at Eva, smacking the sack of a crowbar again with greater emphasis. She shuddered and walked past him, only to see a woman flogging rabbits wearing what appeared to be a duvet, in lieu of an eyebrow pencil she seemed to be using charcoal as a substitute. She had two men of her own around her both carrying clubs. Again; best offer, no time wasters. Eva tried to stay focused on the smell, avoiding such people and holding Rosa close to her in the process.
Finally she arrived at the stall where the stew was being dished out by a thin man who hung over the pot like a lamppost, his long arm ladelling out the stew bore a number of expensive watches. Inside the man's tent was the carcass of a dead horse poorly covered along with several other boxes and bundles. She had no idea how such a stick insect of a man intended to move everything at the end of the day and wondered if he was eating what he was serving up to others.
There had been a small queue around the stand but it shortened quickly, people either handing over some bundles in exchange for several ladelfulls into pots they were carrying, or being turned back after short, bitter, exchanges. When they had arrived at the front the thin man eyed Eva suspiciously, seeming confused to why she carried nothing but a small bag.
“Two bowls of stew please,” Eva said confidently, trying to ignore the man’s puzzlement.
“What have you got to trade for it?” He snapped back.
“Well,” she muttered while digging out her purse, “how much is it for two bowls?”
“Eh?” He exclaimed and then shook his head. “Don’t know where you’ve been little bear but that paper’s not worth anything to me. And you should have brought your own containers as well, this isn’t a restaurant. Got any jewelry on you?”
“For a bowl of horse meat?!” Eva shook her head at the absurdity of the situation but the vendor seemed relaxed.
“Clear off then,” he said sharply, already looking at the person carrying a large bag behind them. Rosa was tugging at Eva’s hand to leave as well but Eva wanted to give the man a piece of her and proceeded to…
There were a few pops in the distance, and then a few more. Followed by shouting.
More crackling noises came from other directions and the people around the stalls began to vacate the park. Everyone knew what that noise meant by now.
The vendor began hurriedly gathering up his takings for the day and Rosa now tugged on Evas hand more urgently. Eva stood there blankly, considering what could be going on.
Could the Communists be in the city already?
A number of Reichswehr trucks following a staff car came to a halt near the park causing those leaving to abandon any sense of calm, people were running in various directions. A bald head leaned out of the staff car momentarily and Eva was struck by the man’s resemblance to Kurt Von Schleicher.
“I want to go back!” The girl cried.
People began screaming and the car sped away, troops began dismounting from the trucks, and arranging themselves around the trees still standing. From the other side of the park Blackshirts were running to do the same at an alarming pace. The stew pot tumbled down from the stand spilling its contents all over the grass and Eva jumped to avoid the hot liquid, losing grasp of Rosa in doing so. The girl ran back in the direction they had come and Eva ran after her. She had no idea what was going on, another crackdown? All this for her and a little girl? Was the stew ladeller Trotsky in disguise?
She caught up with Rosa and lifted her up into her arms, the little girl protested until she realised Eva was still sprinting fast. Both sides started to fire on...each other? Eva came to the conclusion in a panic but even amidst the hail of bullets she suddenly stopped.
Have I got my camera?
The impact of a round brought her flying to the ground. The shock of it was disorientating and she couldn’t feel where she had been hit, only to see the little girl run off on her own again. She felt her left temple and looked back at her hand. Time seemed to freeze on that image and it began to blur.
The image switched back to the little girl, frozen in the same place, then back to her hand again. An old nursery rhyme from her youth began to hum in her head. The image, even blurrier, went back to the little girl. Then back to her hand. The noise of the nursery rhyme got louder and louder, seeming to make things even blurrier.
---
Rosa wasn’t trying to think about the dead woman behind her but focused on getting out of the park, she was too terrified to do anything else.
They were still firing at each when she got clear of the park and she tried to remember which way she had gone, the streets all seemed to have crossroads all of a sudden and she couldn’t remember it being that way before. She felt herself getting more and more tired before she tripped. It was then she started to cry. She just wanted her mum but had no way of finding her and now she couldn’t even find the place she had told her to stay.
“Now, now, what’s all this?” She breathed in heavily as two hands hoisted her up in the air. A grinning face with short, parted hair met hers. His hair matched the colour of his uniform.
“Put her down and get out of here.” The face turned into a snarl as the man turned his attention from Rosa to someone behind her. He laid her down and she stood there paralysed with fear. The blackshirt raised his hands gently and began calmly pacing back.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with do you?”
“I can smell scum like you a mile off,” The other man retorted, his arm had a bizarre number of tattoos around it, in his hand there was a pistol.
“We’re in control of Berlin now and I know your face. You’ll be made to regret that.” The Blackshirt still had his hands raised but he was grinning again, leering, like a hungry wolf. Rosa moved instinctively towards the tattooed man and the Blackshirt broke off into a sprint.
“Sorry if I upset you,” the tattooed man leaned down and smiled, “but you don’t want to be in the company of people like him.”
A man paused for a moment, a sign Rosa had seen on the faces of adults before. Something had clicked inside.
“Hey, you’re Comrade Muller’s daughter aren’t you?” Rosa nodded gently and smiled, her face was still red with tears but she felt safer now.
“Albrecht Hohler, at your service. My friends call me Ali.” He reached out his hand and Rosa shook it.
“Rosa, but my friend’s call me ‘Comrade Muller’s daughter’.
Ali laughed as he stepped back up and began to walk with her.
“Well then, Comrade Muller’s daughter, let’s get you home. The jackals are tearing each other to pieces, we meek ones shouldn’t disturb them.”
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The painting is Rotes Elisabethufer by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner
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