The Journey of Anna Eichenwald

by Donald Hunt

  Hans and Marlene were lovers of classical music. So the two families formed a natural bond that went beyond the friendship of their daughters. Each month, the Eichenwalds attended the symphony and frequently included Erin, whose parents were always performing. On occasion they would get together at one of their homes where they would be joined by Albert and Mrs. Einstein. Albert made no effort to hide his desire to play the violin, especially with the concertmaster. The two often played violin duets late into the night. These impromptu ‘concerts’ were a joy to all, but especially to the professor, who had often thought that if he had the talent, he would give up physics for a ‘true profession.’

  Before the war’s end, Erin’s mother had been unable to quell her concerns about the conflict. One of the darkest moments she had ever faced was the day she watched her son go off to war. She stood in the doorway overcome with sadness as she watched him leave. Since the morning she closed the door behind her, she had been unable to think of anything but his safety. The only respite she had from her worry were the moments in which she felt a sense of gratitude that he served in the artillery corps and not in the trenches. An activist in politics supporting the Social Democratic Party, she and her husband were well known in Berlin’s music circles. Under normal circumstances, she would not have involved herself in the patriotic hoopla on Unter den Linden. But with Peter directly involved in the war, she now felt an obligation to involve herself. She joined the Nationaler Frauendienst (National Women’s Service), the first and largest volunteer organization to mobilize German civilians. Working closely with the Red Cross, many Social Democratic party members joined socialists, Catholics and Jews to form Germany’s most extensive welfare organization. The main function was to aid those families whose fathers had been mobilized to the front or who had become unemployed due to the downturn in business. The organization also ran day care centers, kindergartens and reading rooms. Anna and Erin greatly admired Paula’s passion for the needy. Week-ends usually found them offering to help her by working in daycare centers and filling in at reading rooms.

  During the post-war years, the German people experienced for the first time, life without a monarchy. For some, this was a time of sadness. For others, it was a time to become more independent. Initially there had been national solidarity. Now the society was fragmented – a state that would eventually determine the politics of the post-war era.

  The abolition of reason for 66 million Germans was a process, a shifting paradigm. The transformation of this society from one having a moral basis of reason to an amoral one was subtle. If one places a frog in very hot water, the frog will immediately jump out. If the same frog is placed in tepid water and the water is gradually heated, the frog will remain in the water until cooked. This slow transformation could not fully take place without a leader. The Germans were now sheep without a shepherd. A cunning shepherd would come. And he would lead them to their own destruction.

  Adolph Hitler served as a dispatch runner during World War I. He demonstrated little in the way of leadership and never rose above the rank of corporal. But he made up for it in courage. In November 1914, he narrowly escaped serious injury, possibly death. He was instructed to deliver an important dispatch to a forward command post. He arrived safely but declined an opportunity to stay for coffee. Within minutes of his departure, a French artillery shell hit the post, killing and severely wounding every man there. For bravery in the line of duty, Hitler was awarded the Iron Cross, second class. Two years later, a shrapnel injury from a British shell put him in a Berlin hospital. Returning to the front in 1918, he received a second injury. This time he was partially blinded by mustard gas. During his convalescence, the Armistice was signed. News of the defeat was emotionally shattering to him. Hitler became depressed and simultaneously began to cultivate an intense hatred for those he deemed ‘responsible’ for losing the war. This hatred would eventually be the driving force for his later attempt at European conquest.

  With the Armistice signed, Field Marshal Hindenburg ordered a return of the army from the front. Within a month the difficult task of marching two million front line infantry from France to Germany began. The defeated military faced the march back home, only to arrive at a defeated and discouraged country. The mood of the German people could not have been lower, but President Ebert and the cabinet members were encouraged when they saw the vanguard of nine divisions marching down Unter den Linden. Hindenburg had kept them outside the city for a week of ‘R and R.’ Somewhat rested, their appearance belied the despair they all felt.

  “I salute you,” Ebert declared as he welcomed them at the Brandenburg Gate.

  A crisis in governmental authority was looming, however, and while most of the soldiers returned to their homes, thousands more took to the streets adding to the frenetic atmosphere in Berlin. They had an underlying pellucid hostility about their “defeat”.

  Shortly after the army returned, the National Congress of Workers and Soldiers Council were formed. It represented a backlash against the military, with the goal of replacing the current military officers with ‘elected’ officers. Eventually the entire army would become the Volkswehr or people’s army.

  During the first post-war month, a military rally was held in the Berlin Philharmonic Hall in an effort to gain support for the Soldier’s Council and the Volkswehr. A government spokesman had the floor and made the argument that ‘elected officers would be accountable to the people.’ Suddenly he was interrupted by a 25-year old Air Force captain named Herman Goering. This former commander of the Richthofen Squadron wore Germany’s highest medal, Pourle Marite.

  “I implore you to cherish hatred – a profound, abiding hatred of those animals that have outraged the German people,” he cried. “The day will come when we will drive them out of our Germany!”

  The meeting had been organized to bring discredit to the military, but the tone quickly changed as the anti-military supporters were shouted out of the hall. Lines of conflict were quickly being drawn and hatred began building among WWI veterans toward anyone who was anti-military.

  Eighty miles north of Berlin, a half-blinded corporal confined to the hospital in Pasewalk, had already dedicated himself to that hatred. Several years later, Hitler would write in Mien Kampf the nature of his feelings the instant he learned of the German surrender in 1918.

  “Everything went black before my eyes. I tattered and groped my way back to the dormitory, threw myself on my bunk and dug my burning head into my blanket and pillow…so it had all been in vain. In vain all the sacrifices…in vain all the death of two millions…there followed terrible days and even worse nights…in these nights hatred grew in me, hatred for those responsible for this deed. In the days that followed, my own fate became known to me…I, for my part, decided to go into politics.”

  In 1918 Germany was now a country of demoralized people seeking an identity. This once proud and united country was now fiercely divided. Radical right and left ideologies were growing. A society shattered by the consequences of military defeat was now splintered by classes, regions and religions. Their problems were of monumental proportions - inflation, unemployment, food shortages, reparations, and the threat of foreign invasion. Germany was now the ‘whipping boy’ of their enemies.

  The ultra-liberal political left of 1918 was led by Karl Leibknecht. But the real source of this ideology was another German born exactly 100 years before - Karl Marx.

  The son of a liberal Jewish lawyer, he studied law at the University of Bonn and eventually became an intellectual philosopher at the University of Berlin. But his radical views forced him to leave Germany within a few months of his teaching appointment.

  He emigrated to Paris, then London, where he was befriended by Friedrich Engels, another German. On the anniversary of the French Revolution, in February 1848, they published the Communist Manifesto, a book that would bring them fame as well as infamy.

  The war had long since
lost the glory it once possessed. Government efforts to generate fresh enthusiasm for killing had failed. Bravery, honor and valor, imagined or unimagined, could not be sustained without cause in the reality of death and destruction. Working class men and women were realizing the war was being perpetuated by the military-industrial complex to serve class ends. War aims were proving divisive, especially in Germany and Russia. War weariness led to a surge of left wing militancy. As a result, Lenin’s Bolsheviks seized power in Russia through violent revolution.

  The goal of Liebkneckt was to duplicate the Russian experience. He was the first Reichstag member to actively work against the war. In his mind the plan could not fail; organize workers for strikes and demonstrations; publish a newspaper; control the streets by New Year’s, 1919. The power of the people demonstrated with ruthless acts of violence in Russia would surely spread to central Europe. The time was ripe. Democracy would be seen as basically corrupt, and given the opportunity, the people would agree and rise up to overthrow the government.

  Rosa Luxemburg, and old ally of Liebkneckt, had returned to Germany from Poland, deeply involved in the Socialist movement. She was a woman of great intellect, a gifted writer and orator and considered the equal of even Lenin. During the war, Luxemburg had spent several months in prison for her role in anti-government and anti- war demonstrations. While in prison, she penned a series of letters on socialist doctrine and the dogma of peace at any price. Now back in Germany and with the war ended, she helped the Worker’s movement extend its power. Eventually the Worker’s movement merged with the left wing of the Independent Socialist and the Revolutionary Shop Stewards. Liebkneckt and Luxemburg had decided the timing was right. Under their influence and leadership, the three merged groups formed a new political party - the Communist Party of Germany.

  * * *

  The school year was drawing to a close and not too soon for Anna. The last weeks dragged slowly. Exams were finished. Parties and ceremonies were on the horizon. Anna had the usual casual school friends and then her ‘best friends’. She and Erin were more like sisters and were looking forward to entering University together. They had started looking for an apartment and the excitement of being independent was building. A young man of middle-eastern descent, Uri Avner, was another of Anna’s ‘best friends.’ Uri had emigrated with his family from Egypt when he was twelve-years old. His father was a career diplomat at the Egyptian Consulate and for the past three years had been Charge d’ affaires. His mother was a Coptic Christian and his father a non-practicing Muslim. Uri was living in spiritual no-man’s land. He was bright, with dark brown eyes and jet black hair which he preferred to wear long but kept short because of school regulations. Berlin was very cosmopolitan so he did not draw attention in public places. He was not involved in athletics, but was in the chess club and spent much of his after school hours playing chess. He won several tournaments in the previous year. As a foreign student, he tended to keep to himself. This was largely the reason for Anna’s attraction to him. In turn, Uri enjoyed the company of the girl who was the top graduate of the class, to say nothing of her extraordinary good looks. School was easy for him, and he excelled with little effort. Chess and girls aside, Uri’s passion was politics.

  When he was 15, Uri read and absorbed Marx’s Communist Manifesto. He had followed the post-war political turmoil of his adopted country with intense interest. Even though Arabic was his first language, Uri was fluent in German and had mastered it with virtually no foreign accent. He also spoke a fair amount of English. The prison letters of Rosa Luxemburg had found their way into his hands and he was keenly aware of the slightest changes in the political atmosphere. He observed that personal liberties had significantly diminished during the war and the war-time propaganda was especially egregious to him. The slogan ‘love your country and defend it’ had morphed into ‘hate your enemy and kill him.’

  Although Anna had no serious interest in politics, she spent hours listening to Uri’s observations. He pointed out that escalation of the war had translated directly to increased profits of the upper class. The war had become a self-perpetuating monster, feeding on itself and governments had become prisoners of their own propaganda. The Volk were fighting the war and the Volk were bearing the hardships created by it.

  “Anna, it will be 1,000 years before that changes,” he once told her.

  “I don’t doubt what you say, but it’s hard for me to relate to it,” she replied. “I suppose we are a bit isolated from all this. Our government must put the war behind us and move on to rebuild. Don’t you agree?”

  Uri raised his gaze and gave her a penetrating look.

  “The critical question remains this. ‘How IS that going to happen?’ Fundamental changes are needed, sweeping changes.”

  The week before their graduation, Uri and Anna spent a Saturday afternoon at the Berlin Museum of Natural History. After touring the museum, they made their way to the basement coffee shop.

  “Anna!” Uri suddenly exclaimed. “Everything that’s taking place in Russia could happen here in Germany. The workers have forced an end to Czarism and now there’s an apparent Bolshevik victory.”

  Anna was aware that changes were taking place in Russia. But she was unaware that the Czar had been overthrown. Uri’s information had come from some of his underground socialist connections, something he was unwilling to share even with Anna. She was now more interested and decided to press him for more details.

  “How do you know the Czar has been overthrown? I haven’t read anything about it.”

  Uri avoided her gaze and said softly, “Well I just know.”

  They enjoyed going to the coffee house and sampling the varieties of coffee, tea, pastries and pate`. They usually sat in the corner away from the counter. Anna’s favorite treat was the lemon custard pastry with the buttery flavored crust. Taking a bite, she thought about their conversation. She hadn’t sensed anything unusual in it, since Uri’s passion for politics was always on the surface. University students were always keenly interested in the process of change. The idea of revolution only heightened the excitement. Uri had decided the day before that he would not share with Anna an event that was dominating his thoughts. On May 17th he had secretly joined the newly formed German Communist Party. Now another woman was getting his attention - Rosa Luxemburg.

  * * *

  The default candidate to spearhead the new government, Friedrich Ebert, was a thoughtful and resourceful man. Although normally non-confrontational, he was distressed by the bravado of the socialist movement. The military had pledged their support to the new Ebert-led government, but he desperately needed a candidate for defense minister. A man named Gustar Noske had been suggested by General Groner. After a meeting with Noske, Ebert felt he was a man he could trust. That trust quickly paid dividends when Noske learned of a secret plan to organize a new kind of volunteer force known as Freikorps (Free Corps). They would be highly mobile “storm battalions” comprised of only the most loyal and disciplined war veterans. They were organized with great flexibility having short, eight week tours of duty. Over several months they developed into about 200 frenetic units, with a loyalty to no one except their own unit commanders. A number of brigades were comprised of soldiers who had fought in the Baltic, and they brought with them their traditional fighting symbol, the Swastika.

  Originally the Freikorps represented their officer’s passionate desire to rebuild an effective military. Wartime forced men into a polarity - friend or foe. Through the activity of the Freikorps, this polarity was being displayed in the streets of most German cities. It would soon become clear that these men had no scruples about killing political enemies. The Freikorps principal enemy was the socialist left and their desire to impose their Russian style ideology on German society.

  As the new government was evolving in the post-armistice confusion, a number of bizarre events occurred. One of the strangest involved the Berlin Police
Department. On one Monday morning, Emil Eichorn, the leader of the Independent Socialist Party, walked into the central station and boldly announced that he had been authorized to take over the Berlin Police. The whole thing was a fabrication, but there was no one to contradict the claim, and so he did. In December, the new Ebert government dismissed him, bringing on a major confrontational crisis. Outside police headquarters in the Alexanderplatz, restless Berliners mobilized by the thousands. Eichorn appeared on the balcony vowing he would not give up the post. Inside, ten top left-wing political leaders were meeting. Karl Liebknecht, head of the German Communist Party, was the most influential. They made a momentous decision which was unanimous. Now was the time for revolution. Liebknecht addressed the crowd outside. His words were greeted with thunderous approval as red flags waved, hands and hats rose into the air.