But to Hans’s surprise, Adolf did not go up onto the platform. There were two empty tables pushed up against the wall, not far from the stand. Adolf put his free hand on one of the tables and easily vaulted up onto it. As he straightened, he pointed the Luger at the ceiling. BLAM! The shot sounded like a cannon in the silence of the hall. “The national revolution has begun!” Adolf bellowed, his head swinging back and forth. “This building is now occupied by six hundred heavily armed men.”
A loud buzz of voices filled the hall as people reacted to the gunshot. Women screamed. Men were shouting. People were dropping to their knees to get out of the line of fire, wherever that was.
“Silence!” Adolf roared, waving his pistol at the audience now. Instantly the noise died. “Unless there is immediate quiet,” he shouted, “I shall have a machine gun mounted in the gallery above us.” The hall was silent. “That’s better.” He took a quick breath. “Citizens of Munich, the Bavarian and the Reich governments have been removed, and a provisional government has been formed. Our troops now occupy the barracks of both the national police and the Bavarian Reichswehr.”
Hans’s head jerked up and he gaped at Adolf. The police barracks? But how could that be? And Roehm was at the War Ministry, not the army barracks.
Gasps and cries of alarm exploded all across the audience.
“Even as I speak,” Adolf thundered, “the Army of Bavaria and the state police are marching to join us here. Soon the Nazi swastika and the flags of the National Socialist Party and the Kampfbund militias shall fly together here before your eyes.”
Stunned astonishment didn’t begin to describe Hans’s reaction to those words. It was a done deal? The two greatest threats to their attempted takeover had already capitulated? And then it hit him. It was a flat-out lie! Hans stared at his old friend, utterly dumbfounded. But who knew it was a lie? Certainly not anyone in this hall, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
Hitler leaped down from the table and moved toward the podium, waving his pistol at Kahr. “I am not here to hurt you, Your Excellency,” he called. “But you and your two companions are to come with me.”
Hans’s mind was soaring as he watched Kahr’s shoulders slump and General von Lossow and Colonel von Seisser get to their feet. All three wore holstered pistols. All three kept their hands far away from them. Hans almost shouted aloud. It was working!
That was his signal. Hans turned around and pushed the double doors open. “Lieutenant!”
But Brückner had evidently been listening at the door. He leaped into action, screaming at his men and waving his arms wildly at them. “Go! Go! Go! Surround the audience. No one comes or goes without the Führer’s permission.”
As the S.A. men rushed past him, each one of them armed with a rifle, Hans reached out and touched Brückner’s shoulder. “You’ve got the hall. The Führer asked me to join Hess and Graf and stand guard outside the door where he’s meeting with the triumvirate.”
“Jawohl! Go. We’ve got it.” Then he grinned at Hans. “Like taking lollipops from toddlers,” he said ecstatically.
Adolf, Ulrich Graf, and Rudolf Hess rounded up the three government men and marched them out of the main hall and into a back hall that opened up to smaller dining rooms. Hans started moving down the aisle, his eyes moving back and forth, looking for the slightest indication of trouble. He was not ready to celebrate yet. He could sense that the people were finally realizing what was going on and that they didn’t like it. There was a lot of confusion still, but it was quickly turning into anger. Some were even shaking their fists and yelling at the S.A. men, demanding to know what was happening.
“What are they doing with our leaders?” one unseen man called out.
“We don’t want a revolution! Get your goons out of here,” cried another.
Hans ignored them. What had just happened was a huge shock to the people, and it wasn’t surprising that they didn’t like it. But he wasn’t too worried. This was not a political rally. It was basically a business meeting for some of Munich’s most successful business leaders. Hans was sure that few, if any, had ever been held at gunpoint before, so their frustration was mostly bluster. And many had their wives with them. They weren’t about to start something that might get somebody hurt or even killed.
Then suddenly a man a few rows in front of Hans stepped out into the aisle. He was wearing a very expensive business suit and what Hans guessed were handmade Italian designer shoes. Lowering his hand to grasp the butt of his pistol, Hans moved forward quickly. An S.A. trooper behind him was moving up too, the muzzle of his rifle coming up. Hans hurriedly stepped between the trooper and the businessman. But the man turned away from them, and instantly Hans saw why. Down a few rows, a uniformed policeman was leaning against the wall with his hands in his jacket pockets. He seemed quite unconcerned about the bedlam going on around him.
“Don’t just stand there like the cowards you were back in 1918!” the businessman shouted at him. “You’re a policeman. Do something! Shoot these men!”
The policeman’s face flushed, but he didn’t move. “I do what I’m told,” he growled, and he turned his back on the man. Another twenty or so feet beyond the policeman, Major Mucksel was still on his feet. But he too was leaning against the wall, calmly watching what was going on around him. As the businessman approached, he straightened, looked the man straight in the eye, and shook his head once.
The businessman stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. His face was red and his expression one of fury, but he got the message loud and clear. Finally, he turned and stared balefully at Hans.
Hans spoke calmly. “Sir, this is a peaceful meeting. No one is going to shoot anybody. If you return to your seat and be patient, I think you will soon find that you have cause to rejoice.”
The look the man shot back at him was filled with ire, but with a grunt he pushed past Hans and returned to his seat. As he did so, he muttered, “Just what we need. Another new government run by wild-eyed fanatics.”
Just then, the microphone popped loudly. Hans turned around. To his surprise, it was Hermann Goering standing behind the podium. He flicked the microphone with his fingernail, and it popped again. Then he leaned in closer, smiling pleasantly as he let his eyes sweep across the audience. “Damen und Herren,” he called out, his voice booming through the hall. Everyone quickly turned and quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen, please relax. You have nothing to fear. We have only the friendliest of intentions, and no one is going to get hurt. In the next room, your leader and our leader are forming a new government.” His smile spread into a broad grin. “Besides, you’ve no cause to grumble. You’ve still got your beer, ja?”
That brought some laughter and a smattering of applause. Goering’s face was a familiar one in Munich since his marriage to a Swedish baroness had made all of the newspapers the previous year. Also, he was wearing the glittering blue and gold Maltese cross awarded him for his service as a fighter pilot. The medal was widely recognizable by the populace for what it was—the highest of military honors—and it served to remind the crowd of who he was and what he had done for their country.
As the people quieted, Goering stepped down off the platform and came over to Hans. “The Führer wants you to join him in the other room.”
Hans startled. “Me? I thought he wanted me to stand guard outside.”
Goering frowned in disgust. “Don’t ask me why. You’re not even in uniform.”
Their eyes met and Hans saw Hermann was only half teasing. “Adolf does occasionally make mistakes,” the man said soberly, and then he started away. Hans understood Goering’s irritation. There were three thousand people in the beer hall right now, and every single one of them was wondering what was going on in the back room at this moment. And Hans was about to find out. He started toward the door.
“Tell the Führer I’ll have Max bring General Ludendorff in as soon as they arri
ve,” Goering called after him.
Hans waved a hand and continued to the hallway.
Chapter Notes
The Bürgerbräukeller was an enormous beer palace just to the east of the Isar River, not far from the center of Munich. Built in 1885, its main hall could accommodate about three thousand people if the tables were not set up in dining mode. It was often used for large private and community gatherings and was a popular venue for the Nazi Party in the early 1920s.
November 8, 1923, 9:04 p.m.—Bürgerbräukeller, Munich
Hans turned down the hallway lined with smaller, more intimate dining rooms and moved to where two armed stormtroopers stood guard. Adolf had obviously told them to expect him, for the moment they saw Hans, one of them reached down and opened the door. They didn’t speak as he entered the room, and they shut the door quietly behind him.
The room held about eight tables with six or seven chairs around each one. Adolf was standing in front of the table closest to the window. His feet were spread wide apart. His hands were clasped behind his back. His body was rigid. If he had heard Hans come in, he gave no sign of it. At the table sat the three men who currently constituted the government of Bavaria—Gustav von Kahr, General Otto von Lossow, and Hans von Seisser. They sat shoulder to shoulder, glaring up at their captor. Their faces were defiant, their eyes filled with bitterness. Each one turned momentarily to see who had entered and then quickly forgot about Hans.
Hans moved over and sat down at a nearby table with Rudolf Hess and Ulrich Graf. Rudolf nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging his presence. Graf didn’t even turn his head. His eyes were fixed on his Führer, and he sat on the edge of his chair. He looked like an angry lion about to pounce. Hans badly wanted to ask Hess for a quick report on how things were going, but then he decided the faces of their three captives pretty much said it all. It was not going well.
Adolf straightened and began to pace back and forth in front of the table. “Why won’t you speak to me?” he cried shrilly. “Do you think you can just ignore what is going on here tonight?” None of the three men even looked at him. They stared past him as if he weren’t there.
“I have six hundred troops in and around this building. And we have twenty thousand waiting for my command to attack. I tell you, I am not bluffing. We have the power to seize your government and toss you out on the streets. But that is not what we came for. We came to ask you to stop listening to those lickspittles in Berlin. They have brought us to the brink of destruction. Do you sit here and do nothing?” Tiny drops of saliva sprayed from his mouth as he shouted out the words.
Kahr finally looked up in utter contempt. “If we so much as twitch our noses, General von Seeckt has promised to march down here with the full power of the Reichswehr behind him and turn Bavaria into a dependent protectorate of Berlin. Is that what you want?”
Whirling around, Adolf screamed at him. “‘It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing.’”
The minister was incredulous. “You quote Shakespeare? That is your answer?” He snorted in disgust and turned away, staring at the floor.
Adolf was instantly in control again. “This is the beginning of a national revolution, and we are asking you to join us. If we act swiftly, on this very night, Seeckt will find that he has a fait accompli on his hands. Oh, he will huff and puff. He will wring his hands and threaten to destroy us. But he is a paper tiger and a fool for standing with those Weimar criminals who have destroyed our great country. Join with us now and you shall be part of the new Reich. Our fight is not with you. It is with Berlin. Join us, and you shall all play a significant role in making history this night.”
Lossow looked up. “With you at the head,” he sneered. He didn’t make it a question.
“Of course I am the one in charge now,” Adolf roared. “You had your chance. We asked you to take the lead weeks ago. We offered to join our troops with your armies and your police. And you agreed. But now you have no heart for it. General von Seeckt blustered and blew, and you collapsed like a house of cards. So yes, I will be the new head of state. But each of you shall have important positions in the new regime.”
He moved in, staring down at Kahr. “You shall be the Regent of Bavaria.” Then he turned to General von Lossow. “You shall be the Minister of the National Army, and Seeckt will be thrown in prison.” Lastly, he turned to Seisser. “And you shall be Minister of the Reich Police. All police forces in the Fatherland will be under your command.”
The three men glanced at each other. If they were impressed with what had just been offered to them, they were hiding it very well. A look passed between them, and then Kahr sat back and folded his arms. A moment later the other two did the same. But Seisser couldn’t resist a jab at their tormentor. “You offer what you do not control.”
Hans tensed as he saw Adolf stiffen. They were treating him as if he were a little boy. And that infuriated him. “No!” he shouted. “I offer you back what you no longer control.”
Seisser’s answer to that was to look away. Kahr’s answer was to lean over and start whispering something to his army general.
Adolf exploded. He whipped out his pistol and waved it under Kahr’s nose. “Halt!” he shrieked. “Halt, I say.”
Kahr’s face instantly went a chalky grey.
“No talking without my express permission,” Adolf shouted at him. “Don’t you understand? No one will leave this room alive if you mock me.”
The bravado was gone, and Hans saw genuine fear on their faces. Then, to Hans’s surprise, Seisser looked up. “I am forced to protest, Herr Hitler. Just three days ago you gave me your word of honor that you would not launch a putsch against the state police. And now you are here, holding a pistol to my head.”
That seemed to startle Adolf. He stared at the chief of Bavaria’s state police for a long moment and then spoke softly. “Yes, I did, Herr Seisser. Forgive me, but you refused to act. I had to act to save the Fatherland.”
Seisser shook his head in disgust but said nothing more. The pistol waving in front of his nose had him pretty frightened too.
Raging, Adolf held the pistol up for them to see. “I have four bullets in this pistol. Three of them are for you. The last one is for me. I swear to you that if I am not victorious by tomorrow morning, I shall be a dead man!” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And you shall be dead men laid out beside me.”
The silence was total. The three leaders looked as though they were going to be sick. Adolf’s chest was heaving as he glared at them. Finally, Kahr slowly raised his head. “Herr Hitler, it makes no difference to me. You can have me shot or shoot me yourself. Whether I die or not is of no matter to me.”
Hans rocked back, stunned. They had lost! Without the cooperation of these three men, they would not—could not!—get the people behind them. They could not defeat the combined power of the Bavarian Army and the Bavarian police. And there was not one thing Adolf could do to make them comply with his demands. If he shot them, the crowd in the hall would likely tear Adolf to shreds. If he let them go, the men would throw Adolf and everyone with him into jail. Hans looked away. So close. And so far away.
When the silence stretched on for almost a minute, Hans finally looked up. It was like a tableau. No one seemed to have moved. Adolf was trembling, his eyes wide, almost wild-looking. Then he abruptly straightened. He threw his shoulders back, his eyes blank, staring at his three enemies. Hans held his breath, reaching back and touching the butt of his pistol. Once, about a year ago, Hans had seen his friend go into a rage of such towering proportions that it had thoroughly frightened him. He had made a vow at that time never to push Adolf too far. Now he wondered if that was what Gustav von Kahr had just done. If Adolf started shooting, Hans would never see his wife and children again.
But to Hans’s amazement, Adolf suddenly was smiling, almost laughing. He thrust his pistol back in
its holster, and without another look at his three captives, he came toward the table where Hans and the other two were sitting. “Hans,” he barked. “You come with me. Rudolf, Ulrich, watch these three. If they try to escape, shoot them.” And he strode toward the door.
Dazed, Hans leaped up and fell in behind his Führer, having not the slightest idea of what he—or they—were about to do. As they returned to the big hall again, the rumble of conversation immediately stopped. Many people were standing now, milling around, clustered in small groups talking. Every eye turned, riveted on the man in the brown uniform who wore a funny little mustache.
Adolf turned and headed straight for the speaker’s platform, which, at the moment, was occupied by no one. Seeing them coming, Goering, who was seated just in front of the rostrum, leaped to his feet and rushed toward them. Hitler waved him back. “Hermann,” he hissed, “pass the word. Tell your men to be ready for anything.” He started forward but then whirled around again. “And find out where General Ludendorff is.”
“What’s going on?” Goering asked Hans in a low voice.
There was nothing to do but shrug. “I have no idea.” Frowning deeply, Goering raced away, waving for his lieutenants to come in for instructions.
By the time Adolf was standing at the speaker’s podium, the three thousand plus people in the hall were quickly returning to their seats. Adolf, as calm as a spring morning, waited and watched. When Hans went to take the seat Goering had just vacated, Adolf shook his head. “No, Hans. Sit up here. Behind me, but where you can watch the audience.”
Barely had he sat down when Adolf began. He raised both hands high in the air and in a booming voice shouted into the microphone, “Damen und Herren, may I have your attention please?”
Now the hush was total. Adolf rushed on, raising both arms high, his voice shrill with excitement. “I am delighted to announce to you that the three Bavarian ministers, Herr von Kahr, General von Lossow, and Captain von Seisser, who hold full emergency powers in this crisis we are now facing, have agreed to join our revolution.”
The Proud Shall Stumble Page 3