The Lone Assassin Page 2

  Reitlinger left the customs house and walked back in the dark to his patrol area, where Zapfer was waiting for him.

  Who is this man? The question went through his mind. Who is this Georg Elser?

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Assassination Attempt

  The Badenweiler March resounds in the Munich Bürgerbräu Beer Hall. Cheers burst out. Three thousand uniformed men thunderously shout “Heil.” The mood reaches its boiling point. The hall and gallery have been packed for two hours already. The waitresses have trouble bringing the filled beer mugs to the thirsty throats. Now, at eight o’clock in the evening, the noise swells. The Führer has arrived.

  * * *

  Munich, November 8, 1939: In the “capital of the movement,” Hitler meets with his “old fighters,” as he has in the previous years to commemorate the sixteen “martyrs” who died on November 9, 1923, for his premature national revolution. Since the National Socialists came to power, this day of remembrance for the “fallen of the movement” has been among the especially important dates of the Nazi holiday calendar.

  On November 8 and 9, 1933, ten years after the failed putsch, Hitler celebrated for the first time in the circle of his faithful the memory of the dead of 1923. On that occasion, he began his speech with the statement that he had acted ten years earlier “on behalf of a higher power” to eliminate the “disgrace of November 1918.” To liberate November 9 from the odium of a failed revolution and lend it the aura of a “national deed” had since become the leitmotif of all his November speeches in the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall. The propagandistic objectives Hitler revealed in his speech of 1936 were also in keeping with this theme.

  I want to honor these dead men as the first martyrs of the National Socialist Movement: sixteen men who fell in their faith in something completely new, which first became reality ten years later. Sixteen men who marched under a completely new flag, on which they took an oath, which they sealed with their blood. These sixteen have made the greatest sacrifice. They deserve that the National Socialist Party, and with it Germany as a whole, shall celebrate that sacrifice on this day for all time, over centuries and millennia, and thus always remember these men.

  But what happened back then on November 8 and 9, 1923? What are the events that Germany as a whole should remember? What memories brought together these “old fighters,” who now, on the evening of November 8, 1939, wait in their brown shirts, crowded together in the hall, for their Führer to inaugurate the annual celebratory ritual with his speech? And, finally, what did this room—concealed behind the unassuming façade of the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall in the Munich working-class district of Haidhausen—have to do with the events of that time? What made it into a place of worship?

  * * *

  In January 1923, French and Belgian troops marched into Germany and occupied the Ruhr area, arousing the ire of numerous Germans whose political sentiments had been influenced by the consequences of the Treaty of Versailles. Immense reparation claims by the victorious powers of the First World War had led to inflation and mass unemployment. This had a particularly significant impact on the workers, whose social situation worsened from day to day. Those times of economic, social, and political instability saw the formation of anti-republican groups and associations that were averse to the Weimar Constitution, opposed to the social democrats, and driven by the idea that Germany had to regain its “ability to defend itself,” develop an “honorable” foreign policy, and restore its state authority through a strong regime supported by the army.

  In Bavaria on September 26, 1923, the government declared a state of emergency and appointed the governor Gustav von Kahr to the rank of general state commissioner. Kahr—who saw himself as a German patriot and whose political ambitions had long extended beyond Bavaria’s borders—was only waiting for the escalating chaos to secure the involvement of the army in distant Berlin for his plans. There had been prior contacts and secret meetings with conservative nationalist forces. The three strong men in Bavaria—von Kahr; Reichswehr General von Lossow; and the commander of the Bavarian police force, Hans Ritter von Seisser—were united in their desire to defend “Bavaria’s freedom” and liberate the German fatherland from the traitorous republican government.

  They were not alone. They had armed organizations at their disposal that, if parts of the Reichswehr would join them, could carry out a successful, organized, and—in their view—long overdue revolution from Bavaria.

  The forces around Hitler, Göring, and Röhm—which had gathered in the National Socialist camp as well as in the Kampfbund, a radical right-wing league, and were themselves planning an overthrow—thought the same way as von Kahr and his allies. To seize the upper hand, Hitler and his followers were firmly resolved to beat them to the punch. November 8, 1923, seemed to them a favorable date. On that day, Kahr intended to explain his political goals at a rally of the “national” associations at the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall in Haidhausen. He had chosen the date deliberately, as five years earlier, on November 8, 1918, the German Kaiser had been called upon to abdicate the throne. The following day the Social Democrat Scheidemann proclaimed the republic—from the nationalists’ point of view, a moment of the deepest disgrace in German history.

  Hitler and his followers had carefully prepared the putsch. Pistols, rifles, and hand grenades had been brought from secret weapons caches in the environs of Munich to arm the participating troops. It was not a small group of right-wing extremists who were determined to carry out the coup, but a large number of divisions, units, and companies that stood ready for the imminent combat operations: 1,500 men of the Munich SA Regiment, whose leader Röhm had previously obtained the necessary weapons via completely official channels under the guise of holding a night exercise with his men; 125 men of Stosstrupp Hitler—Hitler’s own assault squad—who were also members of the SA; 300 men of South Bavarian SA units; and 2,000 fighters of the Bund Oberland, formerly the Freikorps Oberland. Two infantry units were provided by the paramilitary group Reichskriegsflagge; another 200 loyalists of the Munich Kampfbund stood ready to mobilize, as well.

  To avoid the impression that General State Commissioner von Kahr was afraid of Munich citizens, the organizers had taken only the most necessary security measures for the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall event. The two nearby police stations were each reinforced by 13 men to guard the gathering. In a barracks only five hundred yards from the Bürgerbräu, another 45 police officers stood ready. Thirty officers of the Munich central police station were deployed to ensure order and calm outside the venue. About 150 men were posted inside the hall to watch over the event, supported by 12 police detectives who took up positions in the hall and on the gallery. Many of the police officers sent as security were themselves National Socialists.

  As Kahr was just beginning his speech, in which he would present a fiery critique of the 1918 November Revolution, Hitler and his faithful were approaching the beer hall in a red Mercedes. Shortly before eight o’clock in the evening, they arrived, and Hitler gave the on-duty police officers the order to clear the area in front of the beer hall of visitors who had not been admitted. Though Hitler possessed no authority at all, the officers began to drive back the crowd into the connecting side streets. Then the units of Stosstrupp Hitler arrived in several trucks. They surrounded and sealed off the Bürgerbräu. Now it was time for Hitler’s grand entrance. With a loaded revolver in his hand and surrounded by a group of armed comrades, among them Rudolf Hess and Hermann Göring, he entered the packed hall. There was a sudden commotion as numerous visitors attempted to leave the hall quickly through side doors. Their efforts were in vain, for the putschists had blocked all doorways, positioning machine guns in front of them.

  To quiet the room, Hitler, wearing a black frock coat, shot his revolver at the ceiling. He then stormed through the rows of tables to the speaker’s podium, pushed von Kahr aside, and shouted: The national revolution has just broken out! The hall is occupied by 600 heavily armed men. No one is permitted to le
ave the hall! The barracks of the Reichswehr and police are occupied. Reichswehr and police are already approaching under swastika flags.

  This was not, in fact, the case. Neither were the barracks of the Reichwehr and police occupied, nor were soldiers and police officers approaching the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall under swastika flags. It was Hitler’s first speech in the Bürgerbräu that evening, and after he had given it, he told Lossow, Kahr, and Seisser to follow him into a side room. Since Hitler was armed and apparently prepared to shoot, they listened to him grudgingly for about fifteen minutes.

  As an ultimatum, Hitler declared: Everyone has to occupy the place allotted to him. If he does not do so, then he has no right to exist. You have to fight with me, triumph with me, or die with me. If things go wrong, I have four shots in the pistol: three for my colleagues if they abandon me, and the last bullet for me! Next to Hitler stood his burly bodyguard Ulrich Graf, a butcher by trade, with a submachine gun at the ready. Outside the window of the side room patrolled SA units.

  Meanwhile, out in the hall it had grown quieter. Göring had calmed the crowd: Relax, relax, you have your beer! he shouted repeatedly. Excited and intimidated at the same time, the visitors waited to see what would happen next. Suddenly Hitler reappeared on the podium, having left the side room due to the faltering negotiations with Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser. If there is not quiet right now, I will have a machine gun posted on the gallery! he screamed into the hall. He then began another speech, seeking to win over the unsympathetic crowd. An eyewitness later described those minutes.

  He began with complete calm and without any pathos. What was happening, he said, was in no way directed against Kahr, who had his full trust and would remain in control of Bavaria. At the same time, however, a new government must be formed: Ludendorff, Lossow, Seisser, and he. I cannot remember ever in my life having experienced such a reversal in the mass mood in a few minutes, almost seconds …

  Hitler declared that the government had been dissolved. The same day, a new Reich regime would be proclaimed in Munich, and until the reckoning with the criminals who led Germany into dissolution, he would assume the leadership of the provisional government, in which Ludendorff would be head of the Reichswehr, Lossow would be Reichswehr minister, and Seisser would be Reich police minister. It was the task of the provisional government to muster all the forces of Bavaria and the rest of the Reich, march into the “sinful Babel” of Berlin, and save the German people. Hitler admitted that it had not been easy for him to induce Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser to join the new regime, but they had ultimately consented, and he asked the people in the hall whether they approved of this solution to the German question. The crowd roared its assent.

  General Ludendorff applauded, too. He, who had come to the beer hall late to avoid unpleasant encounters and now appeared in full uniform and bedecked with medals, certainly did not have in mind playing a subordinate role alongside Hitler, a mere lance corporal. Nonetheless, he declared that he was at the disposal of the national government. He wanted to restore to the black, white, and red cockade the honor that the revolution had taken from it. This was, he stated, a turning point in German history, and he trusted in God’s blessing for the undertaking. After that, Kahr, who had in the meantime been permitted to return to the hall along with Lossow and Seisser, stood up and went to the lectern. At that moment of extreme need, he said, he was prepared to take over the management of the affairs of the Bavarian state as representative of the monarchy that had been so disgracefully shattered five years earlier. He did so with a heavy heart and, I hope, for the benefit of our Bavarian homeland and our dear German fatherland.

  Enthusiasm seized the crowd, which erupted in cheers and applause, and then everyone joined in the concluding German national anthem.

  In the belief that the revolution had succeeded, the following proclamation was promptly published.

  To the German people! The government of the November criminals in Berlin has today been declared deposed. A provisional German national government has been formed. This consists of General Ludendorff, Adolf Hitler, General von Lossow, Colonel von Seisser.

  Triumphantly, Hitler then left the hall with his people. From that point on, General Ludendorff took over the command on-site, and—to the later chagrin of the Nazi putschists—he released the three coerced men on their word of honor.

  As soon as Kahr managed to free himself, he hastened—along with the head of the Bavarian Reichswehr, Lossow—to the barracks of Infantry Regiment 19, where they renounced the forced participation in the Hitler putsch that same night. The Munich Reichswehr garrison was mobilized against the revolutionaries, and the National Socialist Party was banned. The next morning would bring the ultimate decision: Kahr or Hitler?

  That night, Kahr had posters printed and posted all over Munich, on which he accused Hitler of breaking his word and declared the liquidation of the National Socialists, as well as the Bund Oberland and the Reichskriegsflagge.

  The morning of November 9, 1923, SA columns and members of the Kampfbund, including the Bund Oberland, gathered at the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall, far superior in numbers to the police. Opposed to them stood the police units of the city, the state, and, if necessary, the Reichswehr. The putschists had not expected to meet such massive resistance. The more clearly their defeat loomed, the more desperate their actions became. Thus, “Marxists” from the Munich city council were taken hostage at Göring’s orders, without knowing what would happen to them. As “strategic measures,” cannons were positioned at various points in the city center. At the same time, the attempt was made to bring the city’s most important military and political institutions under control. Except in the case of the Wehrkreiskommando, the military district command, the putschists failed miserably. Neither the police headquarters nor the government offices on Maximilianstrasse could be occupied.

  The destruction of the social democratic newspaper Münchener Post exemplified the National Socialists’ lack of a cohesive plan. At Göring’s explicit command, the publishing premises were occupied, the editorial offices were ravaged, and machines and material were destroyed. When everything lay in ruins, Hitler’s “order” came to preserve the editorial offices. He had planned to transfer the printing and publishing apparatus to the National Socialist newspaper Heimatland, but it was too late.

  The situation for the putschists was increasingly hopeless. Something had to happen, and once again the attempt was made to turn things around. To achieve the national revolution, they decided to march through the city center; the destination was the Feldherrnhalle (Field Marshals’ Hall). The putschists assembled in three columns and four rows. In its entirety, the procession, twelve men wide, filled the whole street—to the left the Stosstrupp Hitler, in the middle the Munich SA Regiment, and to the right the Bund Oberland. At the head marched the Führer and Ludendorff, in front of them a guard division and two rows of flag bearers.

  Initially, the Nazis managed to break through the first chain of state police at the Ludwigsbrücke. However, at the Feldherrnhalle, a barrage from the police ended the overhasty “march on the Feldherrnhalle.” An eyewitness recalled the event.

  A rattle of dozens of shots rings out, penetrating the ranks, shattering the procession. An indescribable panic ensues in the densely packed masses, which now burst apart, as if a gigantic hand had broken in and dispersed them. Women start screaming, men are shouting, dozens have flung themselves to the ground to evade the bullets tearing into the crowd. Dozens, hundreds push their way out of the range of the devastating fire.

  Sixteen National Socialists would ultimately pay for their march with their lives. The putschists’ Führer got off lightly himself: Hitler dislocated his shoulder when he either fell down or was thrust down to the pavement. Göring was wounded, brought to a Munich hospital, and afterward smuggled across the border by party members.

  The putsch had failed. What had been publicized as the ignition point of the national revolt had evaporated into a brief delusion.
But the fire still sprayed dangerous sparks. When police units drove up in front of the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall on the evening of November 9 to free the imprisoned hostages, they were berated by the furious public: “Traitors to the fatherland! Bloodhounds! Heil Hitler!”

  Two days later, the police appeared on Lake Staffel at the country home of Hitler’s close associate Ernst Hanfstaengl to arrest the escaped Führer. Shortly before the arrival of the police, Hitler reached for his pistol and cried: This is the end. I will never let those swine arrest me! I would rather die! Hanfstaengl’s wife then knocked the weapon out of his hand; Hitler’s end had been prevented, but the sparks he struck had not been extinguished.

  * * *

  On November 8 and 9, 1933, the National Socialists, who had then come to power, commemorated for the first time their fallen “martyrs” of 1923. They met at the historic place where they had once proclaimed the “national revolution,” which now, ten years later, had become a reality—the Munich Bürgerbräu Beer Hall. The ceremonies began on November 8 with propaganda events in the Munich city center, culminated in a two-hour speech from Hitler to the “old fighters” in the Bürgerbräu Beer Hall, and were crowned with a memorial march to the Feldherrnhalle and the swearing-in of SS recruits. An eyewitness from 1933 described the “historic march” from the Bürgerbräu in Haidhausen over the Ludwigsbrücke to the Feldherrnhalle.

  It was doubtless an impressive demonstration: the serious men in brown shirts, the silent crowd, and the burning pylons on the façades, all against the background of the gloomy November weather. As the procession reached Marienplatz, the chimes of the city hall played the Horst Wessel Song. Gun salutes announced the arrival of the head at the Feldherrnhalle. A minute of silence followed.