Stacy Danielle Stephens

City of Light, City of Magic

Today we have something different: a thought piece by one of our contributors.  Longtime readers will be familiar with Stacy Danielle Stephens’ monumental historical novel about WWII, of which we’ve run excerpts here quite often (if you haven’t seen those yet, just search for her name in the little box on the top right.  Trust me on this one).  In this post, she brings together two very disparate elements: baseball and Nazi segregation of Jews.  It should make you think.

Star of David in 1930s

Is this couple offended by those stars they’re wearing? Of course not. When Hitler became Chancellor of Germany, no Jew on earth was so far removed from Tsarist pogroms or from Martin Luther’s “On the Jews and Their Lies” as to assume the privilege of being personally offended by anything an otherwise polite and civilized society might arbitrarily inflict upon them. So, these stars they’re wearing–are they offensive? Yes, of course they are.

Upon pronouncement of that word, “offensive” Libertarians in particular like to throw up their hands in mock horror, and shriek in a sort of Mickey-Mouse-impression voice, “Heavens to Betsy! We can’t have anyone being offended.” And even your average conservative likes to downplay the subtextual attack quietly yet forcefully contained in offensive terms, symbols, or statements by immediately repackaging incidents surrounding them as public instances of a personal offense which the offended party ought to keep to themselves.

But what made those stars offensive was not any personal feeling of the people required by law to wear them; rather, it was the harmful attack not merely symbolized by those stars, but carried out through them. And the impact of that attack was further compounded by the complacency of a society willing to construe them as small, inoffensive details in the natural order of everyday life. Who, after all, was hurt by a simple star bearing a single simple and absolutely true word? Where is the harm in an accurate label, Jew, being applied to a Jew? The harm of it, of course, was not in the label itself, but in the fact of it being applied.

Now there are a few things I should tell you about myself. First, I hope to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature one day. And once I do, my childhood hero, Mister Peabody, is sure to visit me. Then I can borrow the WABAC and start going places.

Mr Peabody and Time Machine

Well, alright, he’s a cartoon character, so I’d better plan on building my own time machine, unless I can rent one. Either way, the first place (and time) I’d go to is Frankfurt, Germany, in June of 1936, so I could book a trans-Atlantic flight on the Hindenburg the year before it exploded.

Chief Wahoo - Cleveland Indians

And then I would go to Cleveland, Ohio, in October, 1948, to see them win two world series games at home the last time they won the series. Because I’ve been a Cleveland Indians fan for most of my life. Why? Chief Wahoo. He won my heart at an early age, in much the same way Tony the Tiger convinced me that Sugar Frosted Flakes were GR-R-REAT! He did exactly what a logo was supposed to do, and he did it perfectly well. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand that I’m not a Social Justice Warrior, whose only angst is meticulously striking that razor’s-edge balance between a Draconian principle and its Procrustean application. Although when I heard that this season will be the last in which Chief Wahoo will be appearing on the team uniforms, I did not hammer out an impassioned letter imploring the front office to rethink their decision, which, after all, was a carefully considered action by a professional corporation, fully aware of their club’s historical significance in both their league and their city. They have been an important part of each for more than a century. The franchise not only predates the Cleveland Orchestra, it predates the New York Yankees. When the franchise owner wanted to change the team name, Naps, to something else, a poll of local sportswriters settled on “Indians” which went into effect with the 1915 season. The name was allegedly chosen as an homage to Louis Sockalexis, a Penobscot Indian, and popular outfielder for Cleveland’s long-defunct National League team, the Spiders. He had passed away on Christmas Eve 1913. Chief Wahoo first appeared as a logo in 1947, later taking on his more stylized, cartoonish features. Neither the name nor the logo were intended to be disparaging of Native Americans any more than the St Louis Cardinals intended to disparage either the Catholic Church or the Audubon Society. Other than a lawsuit in Canada, whose courts have limited jurisdiction because the Indians play a few of their games in Toronto each year, there has been no legal action against Chief Wahoo, and the only organized protest is a relatively small annual event on Opening Day. There has never been an organized boycott, nor a denunciation from a guilt-ridden white celebrity. And, to be honest, no member of the Cleveland Tribe has ever come forward to complain about Chief Wahoo. So what has compelled the front office to make such a decision? Why remove this popular logo from the team uniform?

Because it’s the right thing to do. Duh.

I realize, as I’m sure you do, that there’s no more of a parallel between a caricature on a ballplayer’s jersey and a star on a Jewish woman’s overcoat than there would be between a training camp and a concentration camp. Obviously, the two things are very different, even though they have an identical formal operation; that is, each is a patch sewn onto a garment to visibly communicate a simple fact, but more than this, to also create a vivid impression at a preconscious level. Chief Wahoo tells us the wearer is a Cleveland team member in exactly the same way the yellow star tells us the wearer is Jewish. However, the impression each creates is created by an operation which is the inverse of the other. Without that star, our impression of the Jewish couple would be very different from what it is. But a simple geometric figure with a single short word inscribed upon it forces us to wonder if that couple were still alive a year after the picture was taken. Without Chief Wahoo on his uniform, we only wonder which team the man is playing for. This is the profound, inescapable power of a simple logo attached to a human being, that it can create such widely dissimilar feelings while doing nothing at all, purely in the nonverbal impressions it prompts, the subtle feelings it engenders through a graphic depiction of a particular image. And it does that regardless not only of what its designer may have intended it to depict, but with very little regard for what we might have supposed it depicts. When we think of a star of David on an Israeli flag, or cast in silver suspended on a small chain and hanging just below a person’s collarbone, our associations are not at all what they are when we see that picture. We might insist that it represents pride or devotion, rather than condemnation, but when we see it sewn on a person’s coat, we know better than to argue that it represents anything else.

So in evaluating this decision by Cleveland’s front office, we must also evaluate the impressions Chief Wahoo creates, and not simply the impression the ball club wishes him to create, or the impression of him so many fans, myself among them, have cherished. For most, throughout a lifetime. For many, across three generations.

Ride Great Trains Through a Great Country

We will ask, reasonably, what harm is done by a cartoon Indian. In considering a similar question in 1954, Chief Justice Earl Warren noted that we have to look beyond tangibles in measuring damage done when vestiges of racism are enforced as if they were valid realities. Even so, we must begin the assessment with something tangible, like a yellow star, to establish context for the very consequential impact of intangibles.

MLB Baseball Team Logos

In this case, we must examine Major League Baseball team names and logos.

In listing and categorizing them, I find twelve are Mythic or Legendary characterizations. (Angels, Braves, Brewers, Dodgers, Giants, Mariners, Padres, Phillies, Pirates, Rangers, Twins, and Yankees) Of these, only the Braves have a blatant ethnic connotation, visibly reinforced by their Tomahawk logo. The Padres and Yankees each have a fairly clear ethnic connotation, and the Brewers a very subtle one. These teams’ logos avoid any ethnic associations. I find seven teams are named after abstractions. (Astros, Athletics, Mets, Nationals, Reds, Rockies, Royals) Among these, the Royals might be thought to have racial associations, since Kansas City was home to the Negro League Monarchs. Such association, if it exists, has never evinced any negative expression. I find three teams are named for birds, (Blue Jays, Cardinals, Orioles), two for mammals (Cubs, Tigers) two for fish (Marlins, Rays) two for sox (Red Sox, White Sox), one for a reptile (Diamond Backs) and one–the Indians–for an ethnic group.

As an aside, two points must be mentioned. First, that Cleveland alone carries the name of an ethnic group validates Commissioner Manfred’s insistence “that the logo is no longer appropriate for on-field use in Major League Baseball”. Second, the Braves, although essentially the same issue, are another discussion entirely. I’m not a fan, and leave it to those who are to work that problem. So it would appear that we have reached a dead end. Other than pirates, Major League Baseball offers us no semblance of an equivalent group of human beings for comparison. There’s no avoiding the fact that Chief Wahoo places real live people on a par with fish, birds, snakes, and sox.

“So,” you may ask, “a team that celebrates Native-American heritage with a cartoon character featuring a big smile has to discontinue using its mascot?” Rather than answer this rhetorical question, I will suggest a pair of thought experiments. First, let us suppose you commemorate New Year’s Eve by firing a pistol into the air. If, when that bullet returns to earth, it strikes someone, they will be harmed by it, and no argument based on your intention to celebrate something, anything, will undo that harm. You cannot reasonably expect anyone who might be struck by such a bullet to have a greater respect for the innocence of your intentions than you have for their well-being.

Evita Cartoon for the Cleveland Argentines

Or imagine the Cleveland Argentines, with this caricature of Evita as their mascot. Now perhaps you can tell me how well this celebrates Argentine heritage. Honestly, with the possible exception of Donald J Trump, I doubt that anyone would want to explain how an exaggerated depiction of a former prostitute married to a dictator is a celebration of Argentine heritage, or an image which will innately foster a positive, charitable opinion of Argentina or anyone from Argentina. So if the question here is whether Chief Wahoo represents affectionate and respectful celebration, or bigoted derision, the answer can only be that, at best, he encapsulates a misplaced affection without respect for the human dignity of a very large number of people. Just as this unflattering presentation of Evita Peron imparts to you a negative perception of the archetypical Argentine, so Chief Wahoo tacitly inclines you to a narrow and unkind view of the average Native-American.

Having demonstrated that Chief Wahoo doesn’t merely offend a few people, but is the embodiment of a harmful insult characteristic of attack, I hope you will not be disappointed by my forbearance in refraining from what might appear to be the next logical step, but I have no intention of discussing whether the franchise name, “Indians”, is also offensive, although stopping short of that will surely seem to be a case of hacking at the branches of an evil while leaving the root to flourish. I will say that whenever the front office discards and replaces that name, I intend to express my support for their decision just as I am doing now for their first step, at once both abysmally small and abhorrently huge, finally taken. It is, of course, long overdue for those to whom it is due, and yet seems much too soon for far too many of us.



At Least a Favorable Reference to the Devil

Today we present a new excerpt from Stacy Danielle Stephens monumental work-in-progress about WWII and the events that led to it.  Those of you who’ve been following along at home know that these pieces never fail to deliver – and now we’re reaching the war’s endgame… and one of its most mysterious episodes.


May 6th, 1945. London–As his capitol was overrun by the Red Army, Adolf Hitler appears to have sought asylum in the one location from which there can be no extradition. Although reports of a German surrender were only optimistic speculation, news of Hitler’s suicide has been confirmed. He named as his successor neither of the obvious candidates, Himmler or Goering, but the less widely known commander of the German Navy, Admiral Donitz. How the Admiral intends to prosecute the war is unclear. What is clear is that, regardless of the Admiral’s intentions, Germany lacks the means to continue any meaningful opposition to United Nations forces.

If there is no surrender soon, surrender itself will become a moot formality. The Royal Air Force, as well as the US Eighth and Fifteenth Air Forces, ceased all bombing of Germany two weeks ago for lack of targets. There is no traversable length of railroad still intact, no refinery still operating, no factory able to produce any usable weapons, no aggregation of rubble large enough for a group of desperate soldiers to hide behind.

And there is still no surrender.

Perhaps this reckless determination to fight on is nothing more than a desire to die in combat with a semblance of honor rather than face responsibility for what is increasingly clear. That crimes and atrocities which only one month ago would have been dismissed out of hand as too incredibly heinous be be seriously countenanced have undeniably occurred.

There has never been a military man more even-tempered or fair-minded than General Eisenhower. What he has personally observed at concentration camps in Germany is so far beyond description that it need not be described. It is sufficient to say that it has sickened and angered him to such an extent that every German, in uniform or not, knows better than to anticipate any mercy from their conquerors.

by Stacy Ketcham, Omaha Chronotype-Mercury

* * *

Bloodstains in Hitlers Bunker


The stuffiness of the room had grown more oppressive, and the shrill insistence of the slightly inadequate ventilation fan more penetrating. Or perhaps Eva had nothing better to hold her attention.

“Would you like me to go first, Princess?” Adi asked.

He had never called her Princess before.

“No,” she replied, suddenly overcome with tears. She put her head on his shoulder. Silently, she told herself that she was not afraid, and realized what an abominable lie that was. The truth? She was more afraid of living an hour longer than of dying in another minute. She recovered her nerve. She had to be steady for him. Steely. She lifted her head.

“We agreed,” she resumed. “You should wait to make sure that I am–” Her breath seemed to congeal in her throat. “–safe,” she concluded.

“Do you know, Eva,” Adi suddenly said, “when I was a child, I wanted to be a priest?”

“I’m not surprised by that.”


She picked up the brass capsule containing the bit of serious business.

“Hold out your hand,” she said. He did. She unscrewed the capsule and pulled the two pieces apart so that the ampule dropped into his palm. Tossing the shell aside, she opened her mouth, the tip of her tongue resting on the edge of her teeth, just inside of her lower lip.

He smiled, the same shimmering smile he’d displayed so shyly the day they met for the first time. He took the ampule gingerly between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. Tenderly, he placed it onto her tongue.

One could not but wonder what that moment of transcendence would comprise. Of course, death would not be like anything. There was nothing in life that could serve as a simile for it.

She knew she should repent of this madness, and spit the thing out. Yet she knew just as well that she was able to do this with a clear conscience, because her conscience was improperly formed by years of compromise. Her faith, once white hot, had gone lukewarm and then stone cold, and was now already dead, although still as strong as it had ever been. She and Adi had never been to Mass together. In sixteen years, neither of them had said a single Hail Mary, or even once made the sign of the cross over themselves, and yet, if pressed on the point, each of them would have insisted that they were Catholic.

Smiling at Adi, she bit into the glass. He heard it cracking between her teeth. Then she was translated. She slumped over the arm of the sofa, and he saw the discolouration around her nose. That quickly, sixteen years had passed.

His pistol–the 7.65 mm Walther–was on the table. Like a chalice on the altar, he thought. He remembered the many times as a child when he stood on a chair at the kitchen table, wearing an apron as his vestment, celebrating the Mass.

Fondly recalling his first communion, he knelt at the table, then lifted the pistol to his lips. As his finger settled on the trigger, he was reminded of the delicate silver bells jingling during the Mass, announcing the descent of the Holy Spirit as it settled on the unleavened wafers and they became the resurrected Body of Christ. As an altar boy, he had held those bells, and beckoned to the Holy Spirit with this very finger. Now, as this profligate finger curled more tightly, summoning his own spirit in another direction entirely, he strained to remember the gentle sound of those tiny bells, softly resonating in the hushed stillness of the church, but could not. He only heard the harsh chirping of the distant ventilation fans, and trapped in his ears, echoing in his mind, the brutal cracking of the glass in Eva’s mouth.

The trigger at last succumbed to the pressure of his finger. He felt the action release the firing pin, and heard the shot rushing from the chamber. With it, he received no absolution, but only abrogation[1].

* * *

How does one make sense of Adolf Hitler, a peculiar but heroic soldier who earned the respect and admiration of comrades and commanders alike, then went on to take his country to the brink of annihilation with much of Europe close behind? How do we understand this little boy who wanted to be a priest, but instead became the eponym of evil at its most absolute by leading his nation in their effort to exterminate an entire people?

Millions of words have been written in pursuit of Hitler’s presumed hatred for Jews, with no evidence of his ever being so much as rude to even one Jew, let alone the discovery of a fury intense enough to bring about ten million deaths.

In the early days of the Nazi Party, another Party leader asked Hitler what the Nazis’ program would be. Hitler replied that the program was unimportant, it was only power that mattered. When this same leader argued that power must always be wielded with purpose toward a goal, Hitler dismissed the argument as pointless intellectualism.

Every Jew who met Hitler personally found him to be kind and courteous. Every Jew who knew him was convinced that the anti-semitism he espoused was nothing more than agitprop, palaver poured out to get himself and his party elected and into power, and Hitler is known to have said that everyone in Germany would recognize Jews as a common enemy, if they were arbitrarily selected by the Nazis to serve as a focus for national unity.

But if Hitler’s vaunted anti-semitism were only a ruse, why, then, the final solution?

More so than soldiers of any other nation, Americans were infused with the righteousness of their involvement in the war. From the noble clarity of their goals there followed an expected purity in their actions. They were not engaged in a war of vengeance, but a holy crusade to restore the world to justice. Yet there were occasions when these righteous crusaders would physically abuse or shoot prisoners of war. A disinterested observer could ascribe most of these incidents to anger or frustration in the heat of a few horrible moments. Some justification may be found for excusing these violations of the Geneva Convention. But the fact remains that even the best of soldiers may become murderers when circumstances permit murder.

It has been said that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

If it seems preposterous to you to suppose that a man might send millions of innocents to their deaths simply for the pleasure of doing so, then you have probably never walked among armed combatants seeking battle, and you have certainly never noticed that every word of the United States Constitution is about restraining the exercise of power.

By the time of the Final Solution, it was clear that the Soviet Union would not be defeated as easily as France had been, and evident that it might never be defeated. When the United States entered into the war, Hitler had little reason to hope that Germany would ever win. Frustrated and angry, he could console himself easily enough by exercising absolute power while it was still his.

This is not to suggest that Hitler’s decision to have eleven million[2] people put to death was made on the spur of the moment, or that the Ka-tsets would have been shut down and all the prisoners inside them released if Germany had won the war. Hitler had written about his proposed Entfernung of Jews as early as 1919.

When speaking of tattoo removal, a German will use the word Entfernung. There can be no doubt what becomes of the tattoo. How could there be any doubt what Hitler intended for the Jews of Europe as early as 1919?

When Bertold Brecht was deported from the United States, German newspapers reported his Entfernung. There could be no doubt that Bertold Brecht was alive and unharmed.

It would be both naive and asinine to assume that Hitler had not carefully chosen that word for its ambiguity. While it cannot be proven that Hitler had begun to plan, as early as 1919, for the extermination of all European Jews, neither can it be denied that this eventuality was among the possibilities he had considered at that time.[3]

* * *

As early as 1937, President Roosevelt had decided that in the event of war with The Empire of Japan, Japanese-Americans on the West Coast would be interned. It was only after this decision was made that the rationale for it was formulated. Internment, it was said, would be necessary to ensure that any disloyal individuals among these people did not escape detection, and in order to protect them from their suspicious white neighbors.

Adolph Hitler claimed that German emigrants remained citizens of his Reich, and that their children and grandchildren were German citizens as well. He insisted that all persons of German ancestry owed their loyalty to him and no one else. He believed that German-Americans were entirely German, and not at all American. The existence of the German-American Bundt would suggest that a number of German-Americans shared his belief.

The FBI, conducting the largest investigation of its kind, determined that there was no similar belief held by the government of Japan or by Japanese immigrants in the United States, or by any of their children or grandchildren. The Japanese government had never made any effort to recruit even a single spy or saboteur from among the Japanese-Americans, nor had any Japanese-American, whether resident alien or United States citizen by birth, ever made any effort to further the interests of Japan to the detriment of the United States, even by peaceful and legal means, let alone through any attempts at espionage of any kind.

Tule Lake Japanese Internment Camp

Sociologists engaged by the State Department determined that no immigrant group was more loyal to the United States than the Japanese-Americans, and no group was more truly American. In Japanese culture, emigrants are not merely transplanted into their new country, they are grafted onto it. They will retain a Japanese appearance, and they may retain the Japanese language, but they are not Japanese. Among any other nationality, as many as one-third of immigrants arriving in the United States would, within twenty years, return to live in their native country. Japanese who came to America rarely went back to Japan.

Investigating the question of conflicted loyalties, the State Department learned, as had the FBI, that Imperial Japan had no wish or intention to use Japanese-Americans as spies, recognizing first that they had no loyalty to Japan, and secondarily that they would be of no use, since white Americans would not trust them. Instead, Imperial Japan chose to rely on the already existing German and Italian spy networks.

Although he was fully aware of all these facts, President Roosevelt did not allow himself to be dissuaded by them. In 1942, he ordered the internment of Japanese-Americans, precisely as he had planned to do all along. Today, it is profoundly disturbing to see how easily that order could be given, and to see the docile facility with which it was carried out. Without investigation or probable cause, without trial or arraignment, with no semblance of due process, all persons of Japanese ancestry abiding in California, Oregon or Washington State, whether resident aliens or citizens of the United States, were simply removed in just a few days.

However plausible the justifications for this relocation may sound, whatever explanation one might wish to accept, a single photograph of any white American standing proudly beside his sign–WE DON’T WANT ANY JAPS! EVER!–looking exactly like a German standing beside his sign–JUDEN RAUS!–makes clear that this arbitrary corralling of an ethnic minority by a racially prejudiced government was, in fact, Entfernung.

* * *

Because the internment of Japanese-Americans happened in Twentieth Century America, every fact and detail of it is utterly harrowing. With each paragraph one reads about it, with each story one hears, there is a renewed desire to scream, because it was a heinous injustice perpetrated by Americans against other Americans. Yet there is one inescapable facet of the whole picture that transcends expression, a realization so horrible that one can only see it and turn away.

Of all military construction in the United States during the Second World War, only Los Alamos was more remote than the internment camps. The Manhattan Project was the only war-related activity of their government about which the American public was told less than the internment of Japanese-Americans. While one simply cannot imagine President Roosevelt authorizing a final solution to the Japanese-American problem, one must–if one is honest–recognize from the placement of the camps and the silence surrounding them that this eventuality was among the possibilities considered within the War Department.



[1] In his movie, Little Nicky, Adam Sandler supposes Hitler gets a pineapple shoved up his ass every day, but that would be letting him off easy. Hell? The Russians are approaching, Eva is dead, and the pistol won’t fire. Every day, over and over. The Russians are approaching, Eva is dead, and the pistol won’t fire. He spends the day, every day, alone in the bunker, remembering the face of every young man whom he sent to an early and horrible death, remembering every conversation with Himmler, remembering the footage of unreleased documentaries he watched with Goebbels. Then it’s morning again. The Russians are approaching, Eva is dead, and the pistol won’t fire.

[2] The Wannsee Conference planned to “involve” eleven million European Jews in the Final Solution, but the precise number of deaths that occurred in the Ka-tsets cannot be known. Although an estimate of twenty million is the largest number which cannot be discredited, it staggers the imagination. The estimate generally considered to be an accurate minimum is ten million. In either case, six million of these are known to be Jewish.

Although Common Criminals and Prostitutes were sent to the Ka-tsets with the expectation that they might die, and Gypsies, Homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses and Politicals were sent with the expectation that they would die, only Jews were sent specifically for the purpose of extermination. The death of a Jew was not merely expected, it was intended.

In the moral sense of the word, each of these deaths–whether of a Jew or a Gentile–was a murder, but in the strictest legal sense of the word, they were not. Pragmatically, the millions of Germans and other European nationals who participated to some degree in every one of these deaths could not all be hanged, so it was held that these deaths occurred within the jurisdiction and under the authority of the German government. Individuals who had given orders were guilty of war crimes; those who obeyed these orders were presumed innocent, and every murder that was committed became only a death which had occurred.

[3] A plausible argument can be made that the Wannsee Protocol, Section Three, Paragraph Seven: “jews should be put to work in the East. . . . Any final remnant that survives… will have to be dealt with appropriately” was a precise enunciation of Hitler’s long-intended Entfernung.

Viewed in retrospect from this conclusion, Hitler’s actions can be generally seen as a series of planned steps moving toward that goal. Militarily, the sole object in this scenario was the conquest of Soviet Russia as a repository for Europe’s Jews, in which they could “be dealt with appropriately.” This conquest required that the bulk of the German army be deployed from Poland. The necessary encirclement of Poland required the occupation of Czechoslovakia, which was itself first encircled through the Anschluss of Austria. That France and England became combatants in opposition to Germany was an inconvenience anticipated and prepared for with the occupation of the Rhineland.

When realization of the expected repository failed, concurrent with the failure of the Soviet Union to be conquered, the Nazis adapted the plan to an accelerated schedule, intending to “involve” as many Jews as they could apprehend before the war ended.

For this argument to be valid, Hitler’s anti-semitism would have to be a profoundly irrational, superstitious variety of prejudice. Precisely that sort of anti-semitism can be found throughout the world, and is particularly virulent in Eastern Europe even today.

From Chancellor to Führer – Part 1

Hitler's Brownshirts

Today we present a new excerpt from Stacy Danielle Stephens monumental work-in-progress about WWII and the events that led to it.  What makes this particular piece fascinating is her imagining of how Hitler would have spoken to his inner circle at a key point in his political ascent.  Stacy’s willingness to look beyond the monsters and try to study  the humans beneath is what makes her novel so attractive to us – after all, our manifesto does state that we enjoy a multi-disciplinary approach to things… and few works look beyond the obvious in history as insightfully as this one does.

After the torchlight procession and public acclamation when Adolf Hitler became Chancellor of Germany on January 30th, 1933[1], he had a private supper with his closest friends; Hans, Rudolf, Hermann, Josef, and, of course, Ernst, in a small room of the Chancellory.

“I think Hindenburg will come around,” he told them. “Perhaps even join the Party. He liked it very much today when I told him I intend to serve him as loyally as his Chancellor as I did when I was his soldier, and he was my hero.

They all smiled at this.

“We must have the co-operation of the Army,” Hitler went on. “To secure it, the Brown Shirts will have to be scaled back.” Ernst was obviously angry about this, perhaps even hurt. “Officially, they will be a sports organization, and responsible for political education of young people.”

“Officially?” Ernst asked.

Adi – as everyone around the table knew him – nodded. His smile satisfied Ernst.

“Dornberger’s rocket program must cease at once,” he continued. “We can’t squander money on wonder weapons when we need to build a real army.” Adi brought the point of his index finger down on the table to emphasize the importance of basic necessities. “Tanks, artillery pieces,” he said, thumping his fingertip at the mention of each item, “rifles, boots, even uniforms.” He paused, gazing at his fingertip pressing against the table cloth. “Rockets?” He lifted his finger suddenly as he made a fizzling noise with his tongue, teeth and lips. “Champagne corks.” The others laughed. “Beer first,” Adi summarized, “then champagne.”

“Quite so,” Hermann said as the others nodded. Adi now turned his bright blue eyes toward him.

“We must have control of the Prussian State Secret Police,” he seemed to insist. “Find one of our men to take charge of it. He will expand it into a national force. And that reminds me,” he paused a moment, not so much gathering his thoughts, the others knew, as allowing them to take shape in audible words. “We have to begin seizing control of local governments. Bavaria first. It’s the birthplace of our movement, and most threatened by the Reds.”

“We’ve cleared them out before,” Ernst happily reminded him.

“Let’s all have a walk in the garden,” Adi suggested, suddenly quite cheerful. Perhaps he’d forgotten that he now had a garden. It was all so new, this dream come true. They’d pursued it for more than a decade, and tonight it was no longer a dream.

As they all rose from the table, Adi resumed speaking, going on at some length as they walked, enumerating the problems of eradicating the communists without precipitating any violent reactions. He stopped and glanced around at the diminutive garden.

“This Chancellory,” he sighed. “Like a cigar box, isn’t it? We’ll change all that. Make it impressive.”

* * *

1933 Reichstag fire

Om February 27th, 1933, while dining at the Herrenklub in Berlin, President Paul von Hindenburg and Vice Chancellor Franz von Papen noticed the sky glowing red, and heard shouts. Rising from their table and going to a window, they saw the dome of the Reichstag brilliantly lighted, shimmering and wavering as sheets of flame and billows of smoke contended in a wild sacrificial dance, engulfing and consuming it.

Even as it burned, Hitler, Goebells and Goring were on the scene, denouncing the fire as an obvious communist crime against the new administration[2]. The next day, the Prussian State Police issued a public statement that evidence in their possession indicated that the Reichstag fire was part of a Communist conspiracy to overthrow the German government. On the strength of this statement, President Hindenburg issued the “Decree of February 28th” suspending seven articles of the German Constitution. The extent to which this decree allowed police to disregard individual civil liberties was never made explicit, although it became increasingly clear.

* * *

In the elections of March 5, 1933, the Nazis won 44 percent of the popular vote, and 288 seats in the Reichstag; their anti-Communist hysteria had failed to free them of their coalition, let alone bring them the two-thirds majority necessary to alter the constitution. To obtain the majority he could not secure at the polls, Hitler resorted to the flagship in his arsenal of chicanery: brute force applied with sleight-of-hand and masked by eloquence.

The decree of February 28th allowed Hitler to authorize the arrest of a number of Communist and Socialist Reichstag members. With only one hundred such arrests, the Reichstag would still have a quorum, and Hitler’s coalition would have a two-thirds majority. Further, by making these arrests sporadically over the course of two weeks, the Nazis leant credibility to the allegations of a conspiracy while obfuscating their real purpose.

* * *

Hindenburg and Hitler

“May the German imperial war which we have carried through with such renown be followed by a peace for the Empire no less glorious,” the First Kaiser Wilhelm had said on March 21st, 1871, at the opening of the first German Reichstag, “and, from now on, may the German people confine their efforts to winning victories in the field of peaceful enjoyments. May God so ordain!”

There could be no doubt that feelings of unease and disquiet were prevalent in the weeks following the Reichstag fire. Aside from the anxiety of possible revolution, Hitler’s unabashed willingness to use such dictatorial powers as were already at his disposal, without hesitation and without remorse, had caused profound, widespread concern. In choosing to open the newly elected Reichstag on March 21st, Hitler hoped the nation and the world would infer that Germany had passed through a formative, solidifying turmoil, and that he would now lead the country through an indefinite period of peace and progress. In choosing to convene the Reichstag opening at the Garrison Church in Potsdam, Hitler intended that both the Army and the vestigial remnants of the glorious former Empire would infer that he held them in reverence.

“May the old sprit of this celebrated shrine permeate the generation of today,” President Hindenburg said, addressing the members of the Reichstag. His speech was broadcast to all of Germany, as well as the world, by radio. “May it liberate us from selfishness and party strife and bring us together in national self-consciousness to bless a proud and free Germany united in herself.”

After responding to this, Hitler bowed low before the President, grasping his hand. With few exceptions, the world believed Hitler to be everything he pretended to be, and nothing else. With even fewer exceptions, Germany also believed.

On March 23rd, the Reichstag convened at the Kroll Opera House, in Berlin, to consider “The Law to Remove the Distress of the People and the State,” five concise and carefully worded paragraphs which conferred upon the Reich Cabinet, under Hitler’s guidance and control, the equivalent of dictatorial powers, nominally until April 1st, 1937. Hitler, speaking in the same restrained manner with which he had revered President Hindenburg, promised to “make use of these powers only insofar as they are essential for carrying out vitally necessary measures.”

[1] Hitler was Chancellor of a coalition government. The Nazis never received a majority of the popular vote, and never had a majority of seats in the Reichstag. However, they had the largest share of seats, and could prevent the formation of any coalition which excluded them.

[2] Marinus van der Lubbe, a Dutch Communist with prior arson convictions, was arrested in the Reichstag that same evening, and later found guilty of setting the Reichstag fire. He was executed on January 10th, 1934. In 1967 and 1983 his conviction was upheld by West German courts. In 2008, the German Federal Court of Justice overturned his conviction on the grounds that it was politically motivated. While there is every reason to suppose that van der Lubbe acted with much encouragement and material assistance from the Nazis themselves, any evidence supporting the supposition has proven to be contrived.

Rheinland – Part 1

Edouard Daladier

Lost among the striking images we have of World War II are the often even more important political maneuvers that took place among political leaders before and during the war.  This fascinating chess game is often overlooked, which is unfortunate.  Luckily, however, we have access to excerpts from Stacy Danielle Stephens’ monumental historical novel about the war – and she knows exactly how to highlight the important parts of that political history – whether it be in Europe, Asia, Africa or America.

Today, she takes us on a quick tour of the big picture as things began to heat up.

Édouard Daladier had become Prime Minister of France on January 31st, 1933. In March, Polish Dictator Marshal Piłsudski had suggested to him that Poland and France should together attack Germany and depose Hitler. Daladier, however, preferred the Four Powers Pact[1] Mussolini proposed on March 19th, 1933. When Deladier signed the Four Powers Pact, in June, 1933, Piłsudski decided it was time for Poland to come to terms with Hitler, and began negotiating a German-Polish non-aggression pact.

* * *

Adolf Hitler’s most unpopular act in his first year as Chancellor was a ten-year pact signed by Polish Ambassador Lipski in Berlin on January 26th, 1934, pledging mutual non-aggression between Germany and Poland[2], including a promise to defend each other against attack.

In France at this same time, a financial scandal brought down the government headed by Camille Chautemps. A new government formed by Édouard Deladier on February 6th was brought down by rioting that same evening[3].

On February 9th, Gaston Doumergue was named Prime Minister, and Pierre Laval was appointed Minister of Colonies.

On February 12th, Labour Unions in France had called for a national strike to protest the demonstrations of February 6th. Communists and Socialists also co-operated in the protest, working together for the first time in twelve years. It was a germinal moment for what would become the Popular Front.

* * *

“At a time when all of us have but the one earnest desire to heal the wounds of the past decades in peaceful cooperation with other nations,” Hitler was concluding his speech of March 7th, 1934, “we are happy to give to the world a visible demonstration of the background of the problems which concern us today and proof of the skill with which we master them. Thus I am happy and proud to declare the International Automobile Exhibition of 1934 in Berlin open to the public.”

In a later interview, Hitler told Louis Lochner that “the aim and the purpose of all progress must be to make a nation as a whole, and humanity as a whole, happier than before.”

Hitler wanted German automakers to mass-produce an automobile the average German could afford. Of course, the new factories necessary to build several million autos could be retooled to produce several thousand tanks or aircraft easily enough.

* * *

De Gaulle - Toward a Professional Army

In May of 1934, Colonel Charles De Gaulle’s book, Toward a Professional Army, was published in France. In it, he proposed the creation of an elite force capable of deadly strikes[4]. This force would total seven divisions composed of men serving six year enlistments, rather than the eighteen-month conscription which was the standard in France at the time. Six of these divisions would be armoured, with one regiment each of heavy and medium tanks, supported by a battalion of light tanks for reconnaissance, as well as engineers and artillery. The seventh division would be mechanized infantry.

De Gaulle’s book was not well received by the army overall, because it defied standard military procedures, and because his proposals were not compatible with France’s reserve system. It was even less well received by the general public, because a professional army was considered reminiscent of the military coup that had ended the Second Republic in 1851, and which re-established the French Empire[5].

* * *

On June 14th, 1934, Hitler flew to Venice to meet with Benito Mussolini. Although they made several public appearances over the course of three days, they spoke privately, without keeping any record of their discussions.

Time Magazine reported that the only official statement the two dictators made, issued after Hitler had returned to Germany, was that they had begun a “cordial spiritual collaboration,” but also reported that the two were rumoured to have come to an agreement concerning Austria.

* * *

Engelbert Dolfuss Assassination

On July 25th, 1934, Austrian Nazis assassinated Chancellor[6] Engelbert Dollfuss. Guessing that this was an attempt at Anschluss, Mussolini moved several army units to the Austrian border, indicating that German intervention in Austria would not be permitted. Obviously, the two dictators had failed to come to an agreement regarding Austria.

The assassins were apprehended in Vienna and executed. Kurt Schuschnigg became Chancellor of Austria.

[1] A plan under which Britain, France, Germany and Italy would arbitrate border adjustments between or among European nations. Mussolini’s intent was to obtain French and British assistance securing the borders of his Austrian and Hungarian allies against Hitler. The Poles and Czechoslovakians saw it as a weakening of collective security and an accommodation of Hitler at their expense. That France, with the construction of the Maginot Line, appeared to be planning for a defensive war against Germany, which would leave Hitler at liberty to attack France’s allies, greatly reinforced this perception. The French Parliament never ratified the Four Powers Pact.

[2] This meant that the western half of Prussia, as well as the small sections of Pomerania and Silesia which had been taken away under the Versailles Treaty could not be wrested from Polish administration by force until 1944. As it happened, the Polish Corridor would be the least of Germany’s concerns by 1944.

[3] Deladier, a Radical, had dismissed a conservative police official. Conservative protesters attempted to seize the Chamber of Deputies. It is not clear what their intentions were, but the establishment of a provisional fascist government was among the possibilities. One police officer and fourteen rioting civilians were killed in the mêlée, and more than a thousand injured.

[4] Foudre mortelle; literally, mortal lightning.

[5] Toward a Professional Army was highly regarded in Germany, where its principles were not only embraced, but enthusiastically applied when Hitler later created Panzer divisions capable of lightning war.

[6] He was in practice a dictator, modeling his “Austrofascism” after Mussolini’s example, having also aligned his government with Italy.

The German V2 Rocket – Part 1

V2 Rocket

Sometimes it seems like World War 2 is Classically Educated’s favorite era – not only are we going through the forties in our review of the 1001 movies – but we are also fascinated by the era.  Today we have another amazing excerpt from Stacy Danielle Stephens’ Historical novel about WWII.  If you like what you see here please remember that Stacy’s Bismarck series is also available here, as are many other parts of her novel – just look for stories tagged WW2.  This one is also a timely reminder, after the accidents in the private space sector this week, that rocketry has always been a difficult subject!

On March 18th, 1942, the first V2 exploded during tests of the combustion chamber. While it is the purpose of such tests to discover problems of this sort, the Luftwaffe used this apparent disappointment as a reason to request an investigation into the Army’s rocket program. Reichsminister Speer, with Hitler’s approval, denied the request. Yet Hitler himself was posing a greater threat to the program than either the Luftwaffe or any number of technical difficulties, however explosive they might be. He wanted the program, when operational, to put a rocket into England every fifteen minutes. Further, he wanted the initial sortie to comprise five thousand rockets fired in such rapid succession as to engulf London in a single uninterrupted blast of twenty-four hours duration. If this were not feasible, the rocket program would be set aside, and the money used elsewhere[1]. However, the Fuehrer soon had a change of heart.

On February 14th, 1942, The British Air Ministry had officially instructed Bomber Harris to do what he’d wanted to do all along: undermine German morale by focusing the RAF’s efforts against “population and in particular the industrial workers” of Germany. Three weeks later, the RAF made its first such highly concentrated effort against Essen, with unimpressive results.

In the autumn of 1940, Josef Goebbels had made an eponym of Coventry, creating both a verb–coventrieren–and an adjective–coventriert–for use in newsreels reporting the extreme damage the Luftwaffe inflicted on British cities. Now Harris decided that the RAF must conventrier a German city. Lübeck was sufficiently industrialized to justify a massive raid, and had enough ancient buildings, made principally of wood, which had been drying for centuries, to burn easily, provided they were first broken apart with high explosives, then doused with incendiaries[2]. More than a thousand Germans were killed or injured, and the homes of more than 15,000 destroyed.

It was six weeks before Goering’s Luftwaffe could strike back, making a raid against Exeter. This raid was nominally successful, but not adequate for propaganda purposes.

Hitler no longer concerned himself with the rocket program’s staggering costs, but only with its staggering effects.

* * *

Werner von Braun

In October, 1942, Dr Werner von Braun was asked by his superiors in the rocket program, who were understandably concerned about a loss of funding in favour of a more cost-effective weapon, what the comparative advantages of the Luftwaffe’s flying bomb were, and how they could be effectively argued against. Von Braun explained that the flying bomb would deliver a one-ton high-explosive charge at a very economical 470 miles per hour. A rocket would deliver that same ton of high explosive at four times the speed of sound. Except for the impact of fourteen tons of steel a fraction of a second before the actual explosion, there would be silence, and immediately following that explosion, there would be a sonic boom, nearly as loud and shattering as the explosion itself. He allowed his superiors to infer for themselves that the psychological impact of the rocket as a weapon more than justified the substantially higher cost.

* * *

By April of 1943, Churchill’s son-in-law, Duncan Sandys, had been named chairman of a War Cabinet Committee responsible for countermeasures against German Secret Weapons. A crucial first step consisted of verifying the existence of such weapons programs, and locating any weapons produced, as well as the facilities producing them.

Intelligence reports of a German rocket program had become both more frequent and more consistent, and yet neither the rockets nor the place of their manufacture had been identified. It occurred to Sandys that the problem could be turned around. Rather than looking everywhere in countless reconnaissance photos and finding nothing, he reasoned that large scale long-range rockets would have to be tested in a remote place. What place in Germany be suitable? Only a site on the Baltic Coast. Further, he knew it would be necessary to track these test flights. At the speeds they’d be traveling, this work would require the most competent radar operators available. When he asked Military Intelligence where the Germans’ best radar units were stationed, he was told that they were on the Baltic coast, near a place called Peenemunde. He requested that relatively frequent reconnaissance flights be made over the area, and by the middle of June, he had photos of German rockets right where he had guessed they would be.

* * *

On June 18, 1943, Reichsmarschall Goering was sufficiently pleased with the apparent success of the first several dozen tests of the V1 flying bomb to instruct senior staff that they should begin composing a telegram to Reichsminister Speer, outlining the requirements necessary for proper use and full-scale production of the weapon, which he wished to be set at a figure of 50,000 a month.

* * *

Upon meeting Himmler, Dietrich saw at once that the innocuous demeanor, which incorporated a patronizing tone with condescending facial expressions, and bordered on being absurdly surreal, was purely the device of a brutal policeman who lacked physical strength. Himmler’s conversation skills, such as they were, demonstrated that he was accustomed to interrogation, whether he was obtaining or providing the answers. He was a frightened little man who could never be big, never overcome his fears, but only inflict them on others.

“I hope you have something better to show me than what the Luftwaffe had for Goering[3],” Himmler observed as they made their way outside. A rocket had been prepared for launch.  Neither his remark, nor the timing of it, surprised Dietrich. It had been calculated to strike fear while the iron of anxiety was at its hottest. This was an interrogation technique.

For the first few seconds, the launch was proceeding flawlessly, but the rocket began to spin as it gained altitude and velocity, and then spiraled and yawed, somehow plummeting even as it continued to accelerate. Dietrich realized instantly that this was the worst possible embarrassment that could happen to the program, and yet he recognized the purest beauty of what had taken place, although he didn’t give a thought to either of these things until another minute or two had passed after the few seconds it took for the rocket to pitch and fall and dramatically place a crater of one hundred feet diameter in the earth simply by roaring out the loudest explosion Dietrich had ever heard. Standing in the utter silence that followed, he relived those few seconds, seeing it all as if he were reading a paper by Einstein, with illustrations, the rocket taking the place of the child’s rubber ball dropped inside a fast-moving passenger train. The wonder of it, and the fact that he had witnessed such a thing, moved him to tears.

The seeming eternity of silence was broken by Himmler.

“I can return to Berlin and order increased production of conventional weapons without losing a minute of sleep.”

It had every appearance of being a joke, but Himmler was not laughing. Perhaps he never laughed. Dietrich understood what Himmler meant, and wondered if any of the others did. It was fairly well known that both Speer and Hitler adored the rocket program. Bringing bad news to the Fuehrer was no way to win his favour. While everyone around him was disappointed by what had just happened, Himmler was frightened by it, and could do nothing about that fear except to fling it at others.

“We have at least demonstrated that it’s a genuine vengeance weapon,” Dietrich replied. “They blow a hole in our grounds, we blow a hole in theirs.” The Director had been right about having him on hand. He now glanced at the Director, made eye contact, then looked toward the test stand and quickly raised his eyes skyward.

“We have a second test launch scheduled to take place in an hour,” the Director mentioned rather matter-of-factly. Of course, nothing of the kind had been scheduled, but there was a finished rocket which could be made ready in an hour, and everyone understood the importance of doing so.

Crostwick V2 Crater

It was actually fifty-five minutes later when this second rocket disappeared perfectly into the clouds, traveling on a flash and a boom, and less then three minutes after that, it returned to earth nearly one-hundred-fifty miles away, coming down just as perfectly with a boom and a flash.

Himmler’s facial expression was relaxed, his relief so immense that he wasn’t thinking of the impression he was creating. For those few moments, he was so free of fear that he felt no need to inflict fear on anyone else. That rocket had saved his career, perhaps his life, but Dietrich knew that such a man could never feel gratitude, and would certainly never express it in any way more meaningful than the look and air of innocent serenity he now shared with them.

“I will put in a word with the Fuehrer when I find an appropriate moment,” Himmler promised.

Of course he would.

* * *

Although there were indications that the western allies intended to liberate Greece, perhaps endangering Rumanian oil fields and the southern flank of the Eastern front, the possibility of a Sicilian invasion could not be overlooked. Accordingly, Hitler had requested a report on Italian preparedness. This report, which he received in the early hours of June 30th, 1943, stated that neither the Italian military nor Italy itself could be depended upon. It must either be secured with German forces, or abandoned entirely.

* * *

Dietrich was just outside his hotel when the air raid sirens sounded. He should have gone inside, or found a public shelter, he knew, but seeing an actual air battle take place was too great a temptation. He hoped it wouldn’t be anything major, such as what Hamburg had been put through. Ten minutes later, the first of the British bombers were overhead. The glaring full moon seemed to fade as searchlights surrounded the British, and more than four hundred anti-aircraft guns[4] fired within a few seconds. The relentless concussion of the air, and the shimmying of the earth, physically thrilled him. More waves of aircraft filled the sky, single-tailed pursuit planes dogging and downing twin-tailed aircraft that themselves seemed to be searching for targets but not dropping bombs.

Ninety minutes later, when Luftwaffe Field Marshall Erhard Milch emerged from a shelter to evaluate the battle, he recognized that the anti-aircraft guns were firing at German planes[5]. He immediately telephoned Luftwaffe Chief of Staff Hans Jeschonnek and Reichsmarschall Göring, and attempted to reach Hitler himself at Wolfsschanze, but could not obtain an order for the gun crews to cease fire. Because of a telecommunications failure[6] in fighter command, the hundreds of German pilots circling Berlin were operating with little or no instruction, beyond a vague order to guard Berlin at all costs, and without any information from observation posts on the ground. Consequently, the “battle” raged until the aircraft involved began running out of fuel. More than a hundred of them crashed while landing at Brandenburg.

From their vantage point above the confusion, German fighter pilots saw British Pathfinder Squadrons dropping target markers more than one hundred miles to the north of Berlin, and realized that something untoward was afoot. Thirty of these pilots chose to disregard the order to protect Berlin, and flew off to have a look at this peculiar development. They discovered that the RAF was bombing a small area on the Baltic coast for some reason, and seized the moment. Among them, these thirty German pilots managed to shoot down forty of the almost six hundred British bombers that had struck Peenemunde.

* * *

Stage business is the essence of magic. To draw your attention away from what’s about to happen, the magician makes a point of showing you there is nothing up his sleeve.

Hitler had said that the strength of a totalitarian system lies it its capacity to force those who hate it to imitate it. He failed to understand that his presumption of imitation was also a weakness. The Luftwaffe hit London hardest whenever there was a full moon. After the RAF had coventried Hamburg, the Nazis could only believe that Berlin would be struck a death blow under the revealing light of a full moon, even though they were fully aware that the area bombing of a city did not require illumination. So eight Mosquitos with nothing up their sleeves was all it took to make the German rocket program disappear, if only for two months.

[1] England’s misfortune was the Red Army’s good luck. The resources allocated to the V2 program could have been used to produce more than 5,000 Tiger I tanks.

[2] Exactly three years later, Curtis LeMay would use exactly this same process against Tokyo, undermining the morale of at least 88,000 Japanese civilians by killing them with burns or asphyxiation, and demoralizing 1.5 million more by destroying their homes.

[3] Seven of the eight most recent tests of the V1 “cherry pit” flying bombs had crashed within moments of takeoff. One had slammed into the woods just beyond the Development Works of the Army’s adjoining compound. None the less, on June 28th, 1943, Hitler approved the construction of four V1 launch sites.

[4] The gun crews were Hitler Youth; most of them fourteen years old. By the end of the war, almost all German anti-aircraft guns were operated by teenaged girls, the boys having been sent to front-line combat units.

[5] There had been a total of only eight RAF Mosquito bombers over Berlin that night.

[6] While there is every reason to assume this failure resulted from an SOE operation, there is no evidence supporting such an assumption.


The launch actually took place on the 29th, but I’m compressing the scene.