Read Berlin at War Online

Authors: Roger Moorhouse

Berlin at War (6 page)

recalled: ‘Then came the great moment when the birthday boy drove

by, standing in his big 7-litre Mercedes. The good company into which

I had so successfully insinuated myself rose, as is proper on the arrival

of a Head of State, and saluted in silence.’18 There, opposite the heavy

Wilhelmine backdrop of the Technical High School, Hitler alighted

from his Mercedes and climbed a few steps to a central dais where a

plush red and gilded chair awaited him. Above him, his personal stan-

dard hung stiffly, and to his rear – behind the grandstand – an enormous

gilded eagle was flanked by six large banners, all bearing the swastika.

He greeted his guests. To his left sat the representatives of his latest

territorial acquisition – the ‘Protector’ of Bohemia and Moravia,

Konstantin von Neurath, and the province’s diminutive President, Emil

Hácha, looking forlorn in a sober dark suit and a top hat. To Hitler’s

right sat the President and Foreign Minister of the newly independent

Slovak republic along with the German Foreign Minister, Joachim von

Ribbentrop. Behind him, the bemedalled commanders-in-chief of

Germany’s armed forces were arranged: Hermann Göring for the

Luftwaffe, Admiral Raeder for the Navy and Generals Brauchitsch and

Keitel for the Wehrmacht. In a large VIP enclosure to the rear of them

sat the serried ranks of the senior military in a mass of grey uniforms,

broken only by patches of black for the Navy, whose white hats gleamed

in the sunshine. Behind and on either side of the military, another

enclosure contained more special guests including the representatives

prologue: ‘führerweather’

9

of foreign powers – military attachés, ambassadors and consular staff

– as well as numerous lesser Party and state functionaries, accom-

panied by their coiffured wives. For the ordinary spectators, gathered

in the grandstands to either side, or across the boulevard, it was all a

most impressive sight.

After a brief lull, the proceedings began with a display of German

air power. Berliners craned their necks skyward as squadrons of

Heinkel bombers and Messerschmitt fighter aircraft droned past in

tight formation. Hitler acknowledged the display, nodding to himself

with satisfaction and sharing a word with Göring.

Following this aerial prelude, the procession proper could begin.

First, the three hundred or so colours and standards of all the partici-

pating regiments were paraded, their bearers marching in step to the

repertoire of the
Leibstandarte
military band. This was followed by

divisions of infantry and marines goose-stepping in immaculate order

past the tribune. When the paratroopers appeared, marching in close

formation wearing their camouflage jumpsuits, a buzz went through

the crowd: this was the first time that this new elite formation had

paraded in public.

Next came the motorised units, first, the panzer-grenadiers, loaded

into Opel trucks that trundled past the podium four abreast. They were

followed by motorcycle sidecar units, each carrying three men and

pedantically arranged in number-plate order. Armoured cars came next,

followed by reconnaissance vehicles and searchlight teams. All the latest

machinery was on display. Panzers followed; some clattered along

churning up the fresh road surface, others were mounted on low-

loaders, their crews – resplendent in black uniforms and berets – perched

on the accompanying trucks. One young spectator was especially

enthused. Watching the soldiers and machinery, he was struck by how

precisely the ranks were drawn up and the tremendous discipline that

was demonstrated as they marched or drove past the reviewing stand.

‘It was a feast for the eyes’, he recalled, ‘and the applause never seemed

to end.’19

Lastly, all manner of artillery filed past. Every type was in atten-

dance, from the smallest horse-drawn field howitzer, to the 88mm

anti-aircraft gun and the massive K-3 cannon, hauled by an equally

massive 18-ton FAMO half-track. For the grand finale, the colours of

the participating regiments were returned to the saluting base and

10

berlin at war

were massed before the Führer. As a commander – precariously

mounted on a skittish grey – gave the orders, the flags were dipped

in solemn salute.

From the first bugle call to the last hurrah, the parade had lasted

almost five hours. If arranged in a single line, its troops and machinery

would have formed a queue over 100 kilometres long.20 It had been

the largest peacetime display of military might ever seen. Throughout,

Hitler acknowledged the passing regiments and divisions in his trade-

mark manner: his left hand resting on the belt buckle at his waist,

while his right arm was outstretched in salute. Only occasionally –

when a lull in proceedings would allow – he would sit for a time and

exchange a few words with those around him. But mostly he stood,

stern-faced, watching his military machine pass by. Hitler liked to boast

of his ability to stand and salute much longer than any of his fellow

Nazis,21 and on this occasion his claims were well proven. Christa

Schroeder was one of those who marvelled at his stamina. ‘It is simply

amazing to me where he gets his strength from’, she wrote. ‘Hours

without a break standing and saluting are damned tiring. Just watching

we got dog-tired.’22

The reaction of the crowd to this martial spectacle, however, was

anything but tired. Those that opposed the Nazis or were unnerved

by such demonstrations of military might would generally have stayed

away, so the vast majority of those present surely felt nothing but a

surge of pride at the very visible restoration of German power, and

– as they saw it – German honour. Their reaction was simply one of

enthusiasm, wonder and occasional amusement. The appearance

of the cavalry squadrons raised a cheer, for instance, not least as the

occasionally wild-eyed horses injected a spirit of glamour and unpre-

dictability into proceedings. At other times, the sheer scale, complexity

or novelty of the military hardware on display prompted exclamations

of amazement. One journalist reported that the phrase ‘Neee . . .

sowat!’, which roughly translates to ‘Well, I never!’, was a commonly

heard response.23

Naturally, the entire event would be thoroughly exploited for the

purposes of propaganda. Official photographers had lined the route

and dutifully captured every sight and vista, many of which would

later appear in commemorative volumes, a must for every German

prologue: ‘führerweather’

11

coffee table. In addition, Goebbels had selected twelve cinematog-

raphers to record the procession. Their brief was clear. ‘Transcending

the present’, it said, they were to:

create a historic document for the future, to capture in pictures the

greatness of this day for all to see. This parade must become a para-

digm of film reporting. It is not simply a matter of outward form

– the spirit of the hour must be captured also, the whole atmos-

phere of discipline and concentrated power. Every second of the

action must be captured as it occurs.24

They would not disappoint. Between them, they would shoot over eight

kilometres of film,25 material which would be used – accompanied by

appropriately martial music – in the newsreel of the day.

As the parade concluded and Hitler returned to the Reich

Chancellery to receive foreign delegations in a private reception, the

crowds that had thronged the East-West Axis or packed the grand-

stands began to drift away. A few would have moved on to other cele-

bratory events elsewhere. Many with young children, meanwhile,

would have found themselves magnetically drawn to the tanks now

parked up on the East-West Axis, whose crews allowed eager young

boys to clamber aboard and peer inside, wide-eyed. The majority,

however, simply made for home or else sought refreshment in

the crowded bars and restaurants of the city centre. Inevitably, as the

hostelries filled to overflowing, the revellers spilled out into the street

where they sang and danced the night away, restrained only by the

cordons of jovial SS and police, who sought to keep the main thor-

oughfares open. For many of them, the party would only end with

the break of dawn.

The mood among the revellers was optimistic. Germany’s military

and political might had been demonstrated to full effect that after-

noon, and it was all a far cry from the humiliations of Versailles, the

grim years of the Depression and the political chaos of the 1920s.

Hitler, it appeared, had delivered what he had promised and had

restored German prestige and self-confidence. That afternoon, it must

have seemed to the Berlin public as though their Führer had made

good on his prediction expressed in
Mein Kampf
: ‘It shall be a greater

12

berlin at war

honour to be a citizen of this Reich, even as a street-sweeper, than to

be the King of a foreign state.’26 Even William Shirer, not a natural

ally or admirer of the Nazis, would have agreed with that assump-

tion. That afternoon, he recorded: ‘you get the impression from the

people in the street that they feel pretty good about these things, and

certainly proud of them. They seem to feel that they have got some-

where and are going places, as a nation.’27

Such optimism was not misplaced. In the spring of 1939 Hitler’s

Germany was at the very peak of its power. In the preceding few

weeks, German troops had marched into Prague, occupied what had

remained of Czechoslovakia and annexed the disputed Memel terri-

tory from Lithuania. Of course, such events had injected a rather

fraught tone to international relations, but the vast majority of

Germans fervently believed that Hitler was committed to peace and

would be able to negotiate such tensions away.

Greater Germany, therefore, was a reality and – crucially for the

German public – it was at peace. Straddling the continent from

the North Sea to the Danube Basin and from the eastern Baltic to the

Rhine, it was the largest and most populous state in Europe. Beyond

its borders, Germany wielded enormous influence. It had successfully

overcome the worst effects of the Depression. Its economy was

booming – having already reached full employment – and was drawing

much of central Europe into its ‘area of influence’. Germany’s polit-

i cal model, meanwhile, was proving increasingly attractive to those

nations seemingly hamstrung by democracy and struggling with

political extremism and unrest. Even the overt display of military

might seemed to have done little to dampen the enthusiasm. As one

commentator noted that day, the crowd at the parade ‘didn’t strike

you as thinking much about war, even though they were looking at

the men and the machines which will fight it, if it should come’.28

Little wonder, perhaps, that so many Berliners viewed the future

with unbridled optimism.

1

Faith in the Führer

The 1st of September 1939 was a day that began like any other. A bright,

late summer morning had dawned, with a sprinkling of dew on the

ground and a cool breeze blowing down off the Baltic. Early risers opened

their curtains and readied themselves for the day ahead. It was a Friday

and work and school beckoned for most. The morning ablutions would

be completed; clothes for the day would be selected and put on. Children

would be hurried along, encouraged to follow the established routine.

Then there would be breakfast: coffee pots would be placed on hobs,

dark rye bread carefully sliced, and meat or cheese prepared.

Those reading their newspaper over breakfast would have learned little

about the momentous events then unfolding two hundred or so miles

to the east. Though the main dailies would later produce an ‘extra’,

hawked noisily in the heart of the capital, the regular editions carried

no information about the events of that morning. Some printed stories

suggesting that the ongoing crisis with Poland was coming to a head,

listing Polish ‘outrages’ of recent months or giving details of a hand-

grenade attack carried out against ethnic Germans there.1 Some news

stories were rather peculiar, the products perhaps of fevered speculation

or the imagination of a Propaganda Ministry official. One suggested that

the Polish army was moving against Lithuania and Latvia,2 while another

reported that a Polish claim had been made to the city of Berlin itself.3

Most reports in the newspapers, however, portrayed a city in which

life appeared to be continuing very much as normal. The motorway

link to Dresden was declared to be close to completion, and Berlin

Zoo announced that children would be admitted half-price over the

coming weekend. Book serialisations vied for space with small ads

and reports from the financial markets. Entertainment listings were

prominently displayed. The premiere of the film
Die barmherzige Lüge

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