Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [314]
If there is ever to be a redemption of the German people, it began in Berlin.
Berliners boast that they are different. So do the people of Hamburg, Munich, and San Francisco. Which Berliners are different? The ones in the Western Sectors or those in the Soviet Sector?
We see too many fearsome signs of Nazi-like revivals across the Brandenburg Gate. The only difference is the color of the flag and the hammer and sickle replacing the swastika. All the rest is the same. They are, in fact a weak people who must lean upon someone else.
Some leaders in Berlin will tell you that Berlin has always been the heartstone of democratic German thought. It has a long tradition of labor and liberalism. This is true.
It is also true that it was the heartstone of Prussian militarism and the German General Staff that brought the world to such misery.
Other Berliners will tell you they were never Nazi. I saw the Hitler legions goose-step through the Brandenburg Gate past fanatical mobs of Berliners screaming “sieg heil.”
Giving the Berliner all the benefits of the doubt that they were still partly Nazi and I ask, “How much is being a little bit Nazi?”
Berliners will say they saw tyranny before and were quick to spot it again. When they did, they stopped it. This is a hard point to take issue with. Even professional German haters who may claim that Berlin stood because of terror of the Russians cannot answer why they decided to do this while expecting the West to quit the city.
We conclude: The people of Berlin have achieved a victory for democracy. This victory neither exonerates them nor pays the bill for their participation in Hitler’s Germany.
Berlin was the Nazi capital. Nothing can change that.
West Berlin has contributed more for the freedom of mankind than any people in the world since the end of the war. Nothing can change that fact, either.
When I asked a wise American general, “Will the German people change?” he answered me with the wisdom of all great men. He said, “Come back in twenty-five years and I’ll give you an answer.”
Chapter Forty-three
“ERNESTINE.”
“Yes, Uncle?”
“Can you take a little something to eat, child?”
“I am not hungry, Uncle.”
“You have just sat here day after day with almost no food or sleep. You will be very ill.”
“Please do not worry about me.”
“I must go to make a public appearance with General Hansen. Won’t you come with us?”
“I am tired, Uncle. I wish to stay.”
“Erna ... Hilde is coming back to Berlin today. She is flying home from Frankfurt. She will be with us tonight.”
“Hilde?”
“Hilde, your sister, will be here tonight.”
“How wonderful it will be to see her.”
“I hear the doorbell. It must be General Hansen’s aide.”
“Uncle ... why doesn’t Sean call me?”
“You must forget him. He flies away today.”
“Why didn’t he call to say good-by?”
“Erna ... he did call many times, but you would not talk to him.”
“Oh, yes ... yes ... I remember now.”
“The general’s aide is here. I must go now. Shall I open the curtain and let in some light?”
“No, I am more comfortable this way.”
“How is the girl?” General Hansen asked in the car.
“She is beyond sorrow. I will thank God when this day is over, knowing that her sister has returned. It will take a long time for her to get over this.”
“Herr Falkenstein ... please know, sir, that that boy is like a son to me. He tried beyond human limits. I swear that to you ... he tried.”
“My concern is not for him.”
The two old warriors drove off to meet their cheering publics. Through the hell they had survived together, they had formed a deep mutual admiration. Ulrich Falkenstein gave the general a copy of a law passed by the Berlin Assembly granting an education without cost at the Free University to every son and daughter of an American who died on the Air Bridge.
The presence of the American Commandant General Neal Hazzard set off a wild ovation by the crowd assembled before Tempelhof. His car was swamped. Neal was weary from drinking and celebrating in what must have been every German bar in the Western Sectors. As he shoved through, babies