Sunday, January 31, 2010

Berlin Before The Wall Tumbled, Germany, Part Two

I spent about a week in Berlin back in the mid 1980s. Berlin is certainly one of the world’s great cities, and at that time, the city was still divided by the famous, or infamous, “Berlin Wall.” For those unaware, following Hitler’s defeat in 1945, Germany was divided into occupation zones, with the Soviets, British, French and Americans each administering a zone. Berlin, the capitol and largest city, was a special case, in that it too was divided into occupation zones. The city had been captured by the Soviets in a bloody battle in the waning days of the war. During that episode, nutcase Hitler committed suicide in his underground bunker, the German military authorities surrendered the city just a couple of days later, and Germany surrendered about a week after that.

Berlin was located within the Soviet occupation zone, and the Soviets retained control over the eastern part of the city, which included the former government section, which dated back well before the Nazis came to power. This meant that the western part of the city was essentially an island in a Soviet controlled area. With the establishment of two German governments, one in western Germany, and oddly known to most Americans as “West Germany,” and one in eastern Germany, and known to most Americans as “East Germany” (hmm, DARN, wonder why we called them these names???). East Berlin became the capitol of East Germany, known officially as the German Democratic Republic (Deutsche Demokratische Republik, or DDR), but with West Berlin surrounded by the Communist dominated East Germany, the free part of the city was not a practical location for the West German capitol, which was established in Bonn. The official name of West Germany was the Federal Republic (of) Germany (Bundes Republik Deutschland, or BRD).*

The so called “Cold War” brought great tensions between the Soviet Union, along with the Communist dominated nations of eastern Europe, and the United States and much of western Europe. Over the next couple of decades, Germans fled the Communist “East” to the “West.” The continued loss of many highly talented, well-educated people became so serious for East Germany, that in the early 1960s, the East German government (certainly supported by, or coerced by, the Soviets) built a wall along the border between East and West Berlin, and between East and West Germany. It was a bit surreal for me, and probably many Americans visiting Germany, to see “the Wall,” along with barbed wire and guard towers, where heavily armed guards watched just about every move along the border areas. Communist propaganda announced early on that the wall had been built to keep aggressors out, but such talk fooled no one, including most East Germans (except those in denial of reality), and people knew the wall had been erected to keep East Germans from moving to the West. It was a terrible time, as many German families and friends were divided from one another. I don’t recall the actual number of Germans killed trying to escape over, under or around the wall. Every successful escape was proclaimed as a victory in the West, and every failed attempt, and especially if it ended in death, was cause for solemn moments. Eventually, West Germans erected tall crosses (and maybe other symbols, I just forget) to commemorate those who lost their lives trying to flee East Berlin (not sure about other border parts of Germany), and flowers were commonly brought by visitors to add their own remembrances. When I was in Berlin, there were large platforms on the western side, where folks could look over into Communist East Berlin.

I traveled by train from Frankfurt am Main to Hamburg, and then from Hamburg into East Germany and then into West Berlin. At the East German border I had to purchase a special transit visa to traverse East German territory to get to West Berlin. The East German authorities had learned much about escape attempts, and barbed wire entanglements were strung along the rail lines for maybe about a mile beyond the checkpoints to prevent East Germans from jumping aboard a train just before it entered West Berlin or West Germany. This would give them time to halt the train and search for the “offender.”

During the train ride through East German territory, I was naturally asked for my passport and transit visa, and the East German official simply asked why I was in Germany. I was in a compartment with a young West German from the Heidelberg area, if I remember right, and a middle-aged West German couple (I forget where they were from), but the husband was a teacher. When I arrived in West Berlin I had to find a place to stay, and I went to a little kiosk that provided info about the city for a fee. An old, heavy-set Berliner who reminded me of “W.C. Fields" gave me directions. I remember that at first I asked him in German if he spoke English. When it comes to business, I thought it best to conduct it in English, but he looked at me after my first German utterances and said, “Warum wollen Sie Englisch sprechen? Sie sprechen aber fantastisches Deutsch.” (“Why do you want to speak English? You speak fantastic German.”) I have to admit, that was a great compliment that did loads for my ego, and it was not the last compliment I received in Berlin, for a few days later when I went to the train station to purchase my return ticket to Frankfurt in advance, a little guy, reeking of alcohol, came up to me. He was looking for a hand out to quench his thirst, which obviously required a hell of a lot of quenching, and I swear, I got a hangover from just breathing in the fumes. In our little exchange (in German), he said to me, in German, “You must be from near Frankfurt?” I simply answered that I wasn’t. He said, “Well…you talk like someone from that area of Hessen.” Again folks, this is a major compliment. Germans love to talk about their language, and they are very proud of it. Proper German is difficult, as the grammar is enough to drive the sanest person towards insanity (far more complicated than English grammar). English and German are close cousins, but part of what separates the two languages is that English has “simplified,” for lack of a better term, from the Middle Ages, but German has retained many of the common characteristics the two languages shared back in those times. For instance, while we certainly still understand “thy” and “thine,” they are not a part of our every day speech any longer, but rather are relegated to old texts, often, but not exclusively, religious in nature, or spoken in plays, such as Shakespeare, which were written back in that era. German has retained these two terms, as “dein” (pronounced like “dine”=”thine”) and the improper (in standard German) “dei” (pronounced like “die/dye”=”thy”), used often in certain German dialects.

Right along the western side of the wall in central Berlin stood the former German Parliament building, the Reichstag. In early 1933, just after Hitler had become Chancellor of Germany, the building suffered a major fire started by the Nazis.** The former government sector of Berlin, including the various offices and buildings from the Nazi Era, at least any that still survived at that time, were in East Berlin, including Hitler’s bunker. Most, but not all, of the buildings from that time had been torn down, as most had been extensively damaged during the war.

More in “Part Three-Wiesbaden” (A word history is below the notes)

*While these separate German governments were established, along with military forces for each, the four occupation zones remained in existence, and thus the “Allied Powers” remained in military control of the two Germanys.

** I haven’t kept up with all of the information in more recent times, but for quite some time historians debated who actually started the fire. I’m sure there is plenty of info available for those interested, but with the caveat that this is from my recollection, there was a tunnel leading to the basement area of the Reichstag from the President of the Reichstag’s office building, which I believe was just across the street. The tunnel had been there for quite some time, giving private entry to the building for the president, and it was not a Nazi invention. The President of the Reichstag when the fire occurred was Hermann Göring, one of Hitler’s closest friends and associates, and a leading Nazi. Supposedly Hitler knew nothing of the fire plot, but, urged on by Göring and Propaganda Minister, Josef Goebbels, he used the fire to order a major crackdown on political opponents, having many a person shipped off to early concentration camps. The Nazis claimed the fire had been started by a halfwit Communist (or Communist sympathizer). Some historians believe that the Nazis had a stroke of good luck on the night of the fire, as they feel the Nazi claim that this man was found inside the Reichstag with flammable materials was true, and that indeed he had intended to start a fire, and may have even done so, but that the main fire was far too extensive for a one man job (the Reichstag is a huge building). Whatever the truth, this man provided the Nazis with cover, and the “culprit” was quickly tried and executed, certainly removing any chance of him telling his story. The Reichstag was so severely damaged (even its huge domed top collapsed), that future meetings of the legislative body (still called the Reichstag) were moved to the Kroll Opera House (German=Kroll Oper), and indeed, for those of you who have watched the historical footage in newsreels from the Nazi era, it was in the Kroll Opera House that Hitler gave many a speech, including his announcement of the attack on Poland on September 1, 1939, which launched World War Two. Within a short while of the fire, the legislative body became nothing but a Nazi rubber stamp for Hitler’s policies, eventually containing only Nazi Party members.

WORD HISTORY:
Heave-This word, related to "have," traces back to Indo European "kahp," which meant "seize, take." The Old Germanic offshoot was "khabjan/khafjan," which seems to have had the added notion of lifting or raising (when taking). This gave Old English "hebban," which meant "to lift, to raise." As the spelling changed over time, the word also took on the additional meaning of "throw," with the idea being that the object required a good deal of "lift" to throw it. That idea was also behind the notion of vomiting, as the stomach contents were "lifted and then then expelled." The familiar expression "heave-ho," came from nautical terminolgy, with the meaning "lift" still much in evidence. German has "heb(en)," Low German has "heven," Dutch has "heffen," Icelandic has "hefja," Danish has " hæve," Norwegian "heve," and Swedish has "häva," all with some meaning of  "to lift, to raise, to hoist, to heave."

Labels: , , , , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home