Dearest Bloggymathingy,
Once again,it's been a while, hasn't it? Well, there are so many reasons for the delay. Let's start with today's newest reason - no power at the Baronial manse. Last night I was lying on the sofa, half comatose from the wonderful movies and great soccer (choke!) on our local TV when there was this loud pop noise followed by a flash of light (I thought a paparazzi had broken in and I would be on the cover of some horrid glossy this morning - "Baron caught in South African Sex Scandal" or some such, but no such luck) and then total darkness followed by an acrid smell.
As it was literally pitch black, I went upstairs to bed. This morning, once the sun had come back 'round, I discovered the extent of the damage - an electrical outlet to the left of the stove had shorted out and virtually exploded, with bits of plastic everywhere. The breakers were tripped, and the electric meter (we have pre-paid electricity here) which had still shown a comfortingly largish balance yesterday today was completely blank and just plain dead. Hmmm. Removed defective outlet, carefully insulating wires. Retried resetting the entire panel. Still nothing. So off to the internet cafe, where I am currently tarrying, trying to not think about the large freezer full of food which is sitting without cooling... groan. Luckily it is very cold here right now (Winter for the Southern hemisphere!) and I have not opened the freezer, hoping for the best. I have sent the landlady an urgent text message re: problem, but so far nothing, so we'll see how it all plays out.
In the meantime, I've decided to share with you, dear Bloggy, a round-up of some of the Baron's extremely Baronial past, as it were.
Some of you know I hail from Germany, so let's start there - Baron's ancestors hailed from Westphalia. Sadly, they were singularly untalented at being feudal lords and soon found themselves staring at empty cupboards and larders and said, "to heck with this, let's move and see if there isn't a better way to make a living." And thus they abandoned the familial homestead (really just a big tent, since the evil Swedes had burnt the family castle to the ground in the 1620s during the 30 Years' War). So they picked up the family and moved - to Berlin. Swimming pools, movie stars!
Fast-forward to the late 1870s. Germany is united into a single, solid nation with the aid of its chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, under its first emperor, Wilhelm I., formerly the King of Prussia. Berlin becomes the imperial capital and things begin to look up for everybody there. Baron's great-grandfather had already decided to break with tradition and be the first in a long line not to be a professor. Instead, he became an engineer and opened his own iron and steel foundry... happy days at last, one might think, and so it was, briefly.
Aside from the family foundry, Franz III. built a nice little family home. Admittedly, it was modest by Baronial standards, with a mere 16 bedrooms and only one tower, but it was home, and as the English say, a man's home is his castle (foundry on top, house in lower right in photo), so the whole brood felt safe once more.
Sadly, this feeling of haven was not destined to be permanent. Germany was ruled by the power-mad Wilhelm II now, who loved the idea of a more grandiose country and busied himself building amazing new war ships, dabbling with recently invented aeroplanes, the U-Boot and dirigibles and basically was quite of quite a bellicose nature.
Wilhelm was related to 19 other crowned heads of Europe through his grandmother, Britain's Queen Victoria, but this did not stop the entire brood from quarreling amongst themselves and with the Hapsburgs and various other old European royal dynasties about things as ridiculous as whose Navy was bigger, whose jewelers could make nicer eggs, which prince had nicer horses, who could build the better tank, who had nicer postage stamps and who built nicer palaces (although no one really worried much about the latter after mad King Ludwig II. of Bavaria built his fantasies).
In 1914, all hell broke lose. Serbian extremists, trying to liberate Bosnia from the control of the megalomania-cal empire of Austro-Hungary which was ruled by the decrepit Hapsburgs in Vienna, assassinated Arch-Duke Franz-Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne. Strangely, that unfortunate event immediately set Vienna buzzing like an angry hornets' nest and shouting for help in every direction. Austro-Hungary, which was well past its glory days militarily-speaking, immediately called on its allies in the so-called Central Powers, the young nation of Germany, Bulgaria and Turkey, and told them war was on. Germany and her young population, all eager to prove their rank in the world and try out all the Kaiser's new toys, joined the fray at once. France, whose feelings had been seriously hurt when Prussia handed the French their butt on a silver platter in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 that led to the founding of the German Empire, and her ally, Great Britain, and Imperial Russia were on the opposing side, called the Entente Powers, along with Italy. Soon, the whole continent became a big mess, despite most of the heads of state being cousins or closer. (And we worry about family quarrels nowadays!)
Meanwhile, Franz III.'s factory had begun to prosper and the war came in handy, as being in the metal biz meant lucrative government contracts making things used in the war effort. German guns needed German ordnance, and Franz's factory was but one of many making it. And so Germany went on to overrun much of Europe in record time. Britain began "de-Hunning" itself, changing the King's last name from Sachsen-Coburg-Gotha to Windsor, Battenberg to Mountbatten, making German Shepherds into Alsatians and German Hounds (Deutsche Doggen) into Great Danes. In the U.S., Canada, and even Australia, similar silliness held sway - entire cities were renamed (Berlin, Ontario became Kitchener, while Berlin, Michigan became Marne, and Mount Bismarck in Victoria became Mount Kitchener). The Americans renamed nearly everything German by calling it Liberty instead - Sauerkraut came to be called "liberty cabbage", German measles (more properly known as Rubella, anyway) became "liberty measles", hamburgers became "liberty sandwiches" and Dachshunds became "liberty pups," in an attack of linguistic lunacy not to be repeated until the Bush-spawned hatred of all things French gave Americans Freedom fries and Freedom kisses when France refused to join the imbecilic Iraq war in 2003.
The war was rather one-sided for a while until the German navy in 1915 torpedoed the British liner Lusitania off the coast of Ireland, causing the U.S. to enter the fray in 1917 on the basis of public sentiment. Shortly thereafter, things changed for the Germans, Austrians, Turks and Bulgarians, and soon the entire war was lost. The resulting armistice signed at Versailles in 1920 provided that Germany's colonies of German East Africa (which included Tanganyika - now part of Tanzania, Ruanda-Urundi - now Rwanda and Burundi, Wituland - now in Kenya, and the Kionga Triangle - now in Mozambique), German Southwest Africa (now Namibia without Walvis Bay and parts of Botswana), Kamerun (now Cameroon) and Togoland (now Togo and parts of Ghana), German New Guinea, and German Samoa and German Jiaozhou in China were awarded to France and Britain. Had this wrong-headed decision not been taken, many historians believe now, not only would there have been no reason for a madman like Hitler to come to power, but Cameroonians like the Togolese, New Guineans and even Nauruans today might be speaking German these days...
The result of the armistice, which also forced Germany to make huge reparations payments to France, Britain and the U.S., was massive economic stagnation. As the fragile new Weimar Republic was unable to meet its obligations, it defaulted on payment repeatedly, leading France and Belgium to march into and occupy its largest industrial complexes in Saar and the Ruhr regions, thus making further payments all but impossible, which, in turn, lead to massive hyperinflation.
Franz III and his wife were in a restaurant in Bad Sachsa in Germany's Harz Mountains during a radio broadcast announcing the new inflation exchange rate one day in 1923 when the restaurant owner of the cafe brought him a bill in excess of a thousand Reichsmark for two pots of coffee and two slices of cake. When the old Baron looked into his wallet, he was embarrassed to find only a single100 Reichsmark note. Until before the broadcast, that would have sufficed to buy a sumptuous repast for a family of six! The family's Bad Sachsa summer house, complete with celestial observatory atop the tower, is seen at right. Nowadays, it is a summer youth home for children from the City of Bremen.
I once asked Fritz I. how our family and business had survived those inflationary times relatively unscathed. He said that it was actually quite simple: Customers were required to pay their bills before Noon on business days in U.S. Dollars. At Noon every day the Reichsbank announced the new Dollar-to-Reichsmark exchange rate. Immediately following the radio announcement, company-owned trucks equipped with armed and trusted workers and many bushel baskets and shovels were sent to the local bank branch. Newly-inflated Reichsmark in a quantity sufficient to cover all the outstanding bills of the day were (often literally!) shoveled into the bushel baskets. The trucks then careened through Berlin and environs, delivering cash to satisfy each and every owed bill. Due to the ever-worsening inflation, greater losses were thus avoided and occasionally even a small profit could be eked out. Many businesses in Germany and other countries in Europe adopted this system in order to survive, along with widespread bartering.
Germany's galloping inflation sky-rocketed out of control until 1923, when a new German chancellor, Gustav Stresemann, implemented a new currency based on the gold standard and subsidized by American banks under the Dawes Plan. Inflation came to a grinding halt, ushering in what Germans called the Golden Twenties. Americans knew them as the Roaring Twenties for similar reasons.
Franz III handed over the reins to his son, Fritz, and the family saw an upswing in all things cultural and economical. Life was good. Family money was invested in real estate and precious metals. Fritz had two young sons and an adoring wife, Elli, and most of their time was spent traveling between Berlin, Bad Sachsa, a family-shared house in Bad Saarow on the shores of the Scharmuetzelsee, a lake near Berlin where the UFA film stars all had their homes, and a large estate in Brandenburg, as well as skiing in the Alps and otherwise enjoying the good life.
Elli and her boys take a bucolic break in a Bavarian meadow. (Peter on the left, Franz IV on the right)
Elli shows off her skiing prowess in Davos, Switzerland, 1927
Franz IV. (left) and Peter pose with their patented "deer caught in the headlights" look and a building block set in Fritz's makeshift studio in the dining room in Berlin
Elli and Fritz enjoy a brief sojourn at a mountaintop ski hut in the Austrian Alps
Like most good things in life, though, the Golden 20s came to a sudden end in Germany, much like the Roaring Twenties tanked in the U.S. Over-speculation on both sides of the Atlantic, and indeed globally, caused the Great Depression to take firm hold of the planet's economies after a mere seven years of golden relief. Due to political conditions rooted in World War I and the greed of France and Britain at the Versailles armistice talks which resulted in the absolutely wrong-headed decision to strip Germany of her colonies, the Weimar Republic's political scene became increasingly polarized and a stage set for a madman. Had Germany retained her colonies, those unemployed and homeless would likely have migrated to them, much as they did in France, Britain, Belgium and other colonial powers during periods of economic depression.
Not only Germany was seeing a swing towards political extremism, however. Similar scenarios were unfolding in Spain (General Franco), Italy (Il Duce, Benito Mussolini) and even Albania (self-proclaimed "King Zog")!
During these years, Fritz was a judge in Germany's industrial courts, in addition to running the various family businesses. His wife, Elli, was homemaker and mother and an accomplished athlete and aesthete. She had been the first woman to ever scale the deadly East face of Germany's Watzmann massif, was a well-known rowing enthusiast, and also an imperially-licensed hot air balloon pilot. Neither Fritz nor Elli were given to extremist politics, so when one came along in the guise of Adolf Hitler, both were appalled. They did their best to shield their offspring from exposure to extremism as well as possible. As the family was in a comfortable situation financially, this was not as difficult as one might imagine, and family members who had subscribed to Hitler's lunatic views were summarily declared persona non grata at Glasowerstrasse 27.
Sadly, the madman's extremism became official state policy when Hitler became Germany's de facto dictator on March 23, 1933. Fritz was told that as a judge, he had to make a choice: join Hitler's NSDAP or step down. Not one to be blackmailed easily, he chose to resign and go back to running his business and spending more time with his family. He and Elli told their boys that as long as they could prevent it, they would not be encouraged or allowed to join any extremist youth organizations, no matter if friends and other relatives did or not. Instead, they provided them with ready access to those (few) alternatives available to those not wishing join the Hitler Youth and the like. My father, Franz IV., instead joined the German Boy Scouts, as did his younger brother Peter.
All during the run-up to World War II, however, Fritz actively encouraged political discussions at home in an effort to instill a sense of moderation in his offspring. He even engaged in a small degree of passive resistance to the ongoing and omnipresent Nazification.
One such incident occurred in 1936, as the 11. Summer Olympics were about to be held in Berlin. While blatant anti-Semitic propaganda and hate speeches were curtailed by Hitler and his cronies, everything else was carefully monitored by the government, right down to the mandatory flying of the "official colors of the Third Reich" from private homes and all government and public buildings.
During the week preceding the start of the games, an official order to fly "state colors" was received at our company's offices and included, naturally, the home next door (see aerial photo, above). A day before the "flag day," a visitor in a drab suit with an NSDAP party emblem on his lapel rang the bell at Glasowerstrasse 27, and asked to see "Dr. Weeren" immediately. The visitor was a "party" inspector or petty official of the NSDAP assigned to such mundane duties as patrolling streets to see which homes were not "flying the colors," and then (usually gleefully) reporting them to the next in their chain of command. Undecorated windows, flagpoles, etc., required a good explanation, otherwise a visit to the dreaded Prinz-Albrechtstrasse headquarters of the secret police, the Geheime Staatspolizei, better known worldwide as the Gestapo, was not at all an unusual outcome.
The official was ushered through to our Gartensaal, a large salon with huge windows and had windows which could be lowered into the cellars below entirely, so that one had the impression of sitting outside in the formal gardens at the back of the house. He proceeded to reprimand Fritz in the brusque tones petty officials usually believe will make them sound more authoritarian, chiding my grandfather for not flying the "state colors."
The response was a puzzled-sounding, "Whatever do you mean? Surely, the state colors are flying from my roof, are they not?"
"But Herr Doktor," came the reply, "you are not flying the official colors of the Thousand Years' Reich!"
"What are the official colors of the Thousand Years' Reich, then?" queried Fritz.
"They are, of course, black, red and white," said the official.
"And what colors did you see flying from my tower?" asked my grandfather.
"Well, yes, Herr Doktor, the colors are correct, but the flag is not the officially-sanctioned flag of state," came the sheepish reply.
"Ah," said Herr Doktor, "well, you see, before I commit to such a large and important capital outlay as a new flag, I would like to be sure it is not a waste of money. After all, so far, we have only been in the 'Thousand years' Reich' for three years, so while I make up my mind, the old colors will have to satisfy you."
The official, seeing that he had been beaten, as the regulations at that time did not prescribe the flying of any flag showing a Swastika, but merely of the state colors, left, hat in hand, without being able to do much at all. The German imperial flag flew from the tower pole, and continued to do so long after.
Another small way in which he resisted giving in was in official company correspondence. From 1933 on, all government and business correspondence in Germany was required to be closed with the salutation "Heil Hitler," instead of with the traditional "Mit freundlichen Gruessen," the equivalent of our "with best regards." An alternative was allowed for, but not much admired in business use - "Mit deutschem Gruss," or "with German greetings." Nevertheless, as a silent protest, all family and firm correspondence went out in that manner until 1943, when even that option was forbidden. Fritz also delayed purchasing new typewriters for company offices, instead preferring to have older ones mended in order to avoid buying new machines, since they all included the mandatory new "SS" key, as seen at right.
After the invasion of Poland at which time the Allies finally bucked up and refused to take lying down, the way they had the Anschluss (annexation) of Austria and the grab of all of Czechoslovakia before that, the previous skirmish became a true European war. Parodying a popular Nazi parole often heard on the radio and in newspapers, Fritz told his sons at dinner, "Das deutsche Haus brennt nun!" (The house of Germany is ablaze now). After a pause he continued: "Ihr werdet leider mit loeschen helfen muessen," (Sadly, you'll have to help extinguish it) meaning that the boys would not be allowed to evade conscription. He and Elli advised Franz that he should enlist in the regular army before one of Hitler's paramilitary organizations might try to draft him instead.
Next installment: The War Years and Beyond... coming soon
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