At the Fountainhead (of German Strength) (1980) - full transcript

CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS

MAN: The Germans can afford

that kind of thing

but I simply don't have the

resources to fight

a libel action at the moment.

Anyway, our version is much

more like a novel

than the German edition,

don't you think?

Look, I'm not going to get

involved in that debate again.

That's not our problem.

You know as well as I do

there's documentation

in my book which might

upset certain West Germans,

even here in England.

NARRATOR: In the case of

Volkmann versus Langsdorf,

Berlin, Kurt Langsdorf and

his half-sister Sophie Vogel

are accused of libel.

The suit is brought

against them

by the former SS Kommandant

Heinrich Volkmann

and concerns their publication

of a book, written in England,

containing a section on

ex-Nazis in West Germany.

Due to the publicity

of the trial,

it is likely that the

publishers will also face

prosecution by the state,

under the Law for the

Protection of Communal Peace.

In his indictment,

Volkmann claimed that the

book distorted history

and that in certain sections

the distinction between fiction

and nonfiction had collapsed.

At 6am, Kurt Langsdorf's

brother Gerhard

picks up his bags and leaves

for Schönefeld Airport.

Now that he is 65,

he is allowed to travel to

the West for 30 days each year.

The sun casts a crisp shadow

onto the newly paved area in

front of the building.

He puts on his shoes,

picks up the newspaper

on which they were standing

and proceeds on his way,

pausing only to place the

newspaper

in the dustbin by the

front door.

He heads for the S-Bahn

and thinks of his childhood

friend Johannes,

whom he will now see after a

period of 40 years.

It's my birthday soon. That's

why they're all coming.

I thought it would be a good

idea for us all to be together.

Gerhard has always expressed

an interest

in coming to England,

and now that he finally can,

I'm really delighted. I haven't

seen him for so long.

Kurt and Sophie have come

before.

It's easy for them. Anyway,

they've got money.

JOHANNES: I met Kurt and

Gerhard at school.

They're brothers. Sophie

is much younger of course

and has a different father.

He was killed in the war.

I never met her until 1956,

and she was only in her 20s

then.

She and Kurt have come here for

business reasons as well.

It's to do with their

publishing firm.

Kurt has built up quite

a reputation, I believe,

although I think he's

having some legal trouble

at the moment with a book

written by an English person.

Kurt had to take over his

father's company.

Hydraulic lifting gear.

But it was in Upper Silesia,

which is Poland now,

east of the Oder-Neisse

line,

so he lost it after the war.

About the book...

..I know nothing.

I've heard Ludendorff

or his wife mentioned.

An old German general.

I can look him up

in my encyclopaedia.

It's very old.

Printed in 1932 in Berlin.

Ludendorff, Erich.

Born 1865.

German General. Quartermaster.

Chief support of Hindenburg

in the World War.

Partook of the Hitlerputsch

in 1923 in Munich.

1924 to 1928, he was a member

of the German Reichstag

for the National Socialist

Party.

Now has a Völkische group

fighting against Freemasons,

Jews and the Catholic Church.

Number 7, Zähringerkorso,

Neu-Tempelhof, Berlin.

I hardly recognise it now.

It was there, some days

after the Reichstag fire,

that I worked through the night

with the help of

my two friends,

Kurt and Gerhard Langsdorf.

Together, we tried to remove

some of the books

and other possessions which we

found in the study

used by our lodger,

Dr Heidegger.

All his books

had communist tendencies.

There were no novels

or anything like that.

We tried to burn them

in the central-heating boiler

but there were too many

and the boiler was too small.

Time was against us.

At half past three, my mother

said we should go to bed.

My uncle took home a large case

of what we thought to be

the most incriminating

material.

He planned to take it to the

left luggage office

at Anhalter Bahnhof first thing

the next morning.

I had fallen asleep at the desk

while examining

Dr Heidegger's papers,

and woke to the sound of a key

turning in the lock.

FOOTSTEPS

FOOTSTEPS RECEDE

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

Mr Schmidt?

Yes.

- Wilhelm Schmidt?

- My father.

Number 7, Zähringerkorso.

Yes?

Do you know Georgi Dimitrov?

No.

- I...

- Perhaps there is a mistake.

So, your father...

..is a friend of Mr Göring's?

They've met at

Carl Lindström's.

And this man, is he also

a friend?

Oh, Dr Heidegger.

I recognised him in the paper

yesterday...

..as the same man who rents a

room in our house.

I hardly know him.

This man is the Bulgarian

Communist Georgi Dimitrov...

..and he's been arrested

in connection with the

Reichstag fire.

With Clausewitz as military

philosopher,

the fathers of modern warfare

were Alfried Krupp, the arms

industrialist,

and Werner von Siemens,

the telegraph builder.

ROUSING MUSIC PLAYS

MUSIC PLAYS OVER SPEECH

CHEERFUL MUSIC PLAYS

- Will you stay? Permanently?

- Where?

Here, in the West.

I've absolutely no reason to.

My life and most of my friends

are in the GDR.

I'm pleased that Kurt decided

to publish the book.

He's usually too careful,

in my opinion.

It's time that someone like

Volkmann was exposed.

What did he do?

He organised the murder of over

300 people in Belgium in '44.

It was supposed to be a

reprisal

for guerrilla attacks on Nazi

officers

after the Normandy landings.

Then he became big in NATO.

But he's retired

and now manages the family

business.

But Kurt doesn't usually

publish that kind of thing.

I thought he made his money

from things like limited

editions

and coffee-table books.

I know, but I think he was

persuaded by a friend of his

who knew the author.

Sophie helped to push it.

You know what she thinks

of the business.

Also, the book is apparently

written in the form of a novel.

It appears that some names were

changed and others weren't.

Kurt didn't recognise the name

of Volkmann.

It's not as though he was

famous during the war.

And then Kurt got a letter

from Volkmann's solicitor

threatening court action.

So that's what the libel

case is all about.

Later, Kurt recalled that he

had heard of Volkmann.

On re-reading the book,

he remembered that,

as a student,

he had been invited to a party

by one of his more

objectionable colleagues.

Apparently, it was a very

extravagant affair,

and some of the big names

in the NSDAP were there.

Kurt was obviously

uncomfortable

in this situation.

No doubt that's why he was

invited.

But he remembers Volkmann

and Mathilde von Ludendorff,

the general's second wife,

talking loudly together about

some religious sect.

ORGAN NOTES CRASH

But as he was afraid of death,

he allowed himself to be

converted

by Mathilde von Ludendorff

and entered the Neopagan church

at the fountainhead of German

strength,

which she had founded.

As far as the libel case goes,

I think it will be

just a matter of

destroying the plates

and all remaining copies

of the book.

Personally,

I think the evidence

that the author showed

me is pretty conclusive.

It seems clear that Volkmann

must have been responsible

for killing the Belgians,

but it's not a question of

facts.

It's a question of legal

manoeuvres.

Volkmann's solicitor is

well practised in these cases.

It was presented to me

as a novel

written in a particular style,

which used, apparently,

authentic documents to give it

credibility.

To me, it seemed a good and

very original way of writing,

especially for a first book.

There were one or two sections

that worried me,

but the author told me they

were completely fictitious.

The reference to Volkmann

didn't particularly stand out.

I assumed that that was

fiction also.

I showed the book to my

partner,

and he seemed to think it was

quite safe.

He's had some legal training.

On reflection, though,

he's not really au fait with

the new styles of writing

and it isn't the kind of thing

that we would normally publish.

It seemed interesting.

We thought it would rejuvenate

the business.

It's got very staid recently.

Whatever the outcome of this

case is,

I'm almost certain there's

going to be another one.

And a far more serious one.

I've heard that the public

prosecutor

thinks that the book could be

considered

to violate the Law for the

Protection of Communal Peace.

It's up to the judges to decide

whether or not

the book is exempt from that

law under Article 5.

If it's considered art,

then we can get away with it.

If not...

..who knows?

The problem is the use of

quasi-documentary style.

Although most of the documents

are purely fictitious,

in these cases, any use of

documentation

is not usually considered

to be art.

The author obviously defends

the right of a novelist to

introduce historical facts

or events into his or her work.

NARRATOR: And this gentleman

in civilian clothes

has survived too.

This is senior engineer

Max Faust

from IG Farben Auschwitz.

He demanded 1,000 prisoners for

the current year,

and 3,000 prisoners for the

following year.

Himmler supplied the prisoners.

Himmler took poison.

Senior engineer Faust went

back to work.

His address today

is 32 Rubensstraße,

Ludwigshafen.

When Faust was working in

Auschwitz, the following letter

was written by his chief,

Dr Otto Ambros.

"In addition, our new

friendship with the SS

"is proving very beneficial.

At a dinner given us

"by the chiefs of

the concentration camp,

"we laid down all measures

concerning the adaptation

"of the really first-class

organisation

"of the concentration camp for

the purposes of the Buna Works.

"I remain, with best greetings,

Otto Ambros."

The West German Directory Of

Directors tells us

what Dr Otto Ambros is doing

today.

As director of these firms,

Otto Ambros

represents the interests of

IG Farben.

He represents the same

interests

on the board of Hibernia AG,

which is owned by the

West German state.

14 Kniebisstraße, Mannheim,

is Dr Otto Ambros' house.

"At a dinner given us

"by the chiefs of the

concentration camp,

"we laid down all measures

"for the purposes of the

Buna Works."

The officer next to Himmler is

Karl Wolff.

This is the drive leading to

Karl Wolff's villa,

a meeting place for the top

people of the SS.

From right to left -

Himmler, Heydrich, Wolff.

And Wolff still lives here

today.

Our camera shows him on the

jetty of his country house.

That is how the chief

of Himmler's personal staff

lives today in West Germany,

in Kempfenhausen,

on Lake Starnberg,

at the expense of the

West German taxpayer.

I can't understand it.

How many Volkmanns

must there be

wielding power in Germany

today?

I always knew that, even if the

Nazis were defeated,

it would be a long time

before Germans could get back

to normal thinking.

How many times have I longed to

go back and live there?

I could be enjoying the same

financial stability as Kurt,

with a big pension to

look forward to.

Nostalgia and homesickness.

In reality, it's like a strange

country to me now.

I've lost touch with that way

of living.

It's been over 40 years.

What's changed?

Christian Democrats leading

rich and comfortable lives.

Communists and others

oppressed, according to Sophie,

thrown out of responsible jobs.

Not like the '30s,

not nearly as bad.

When I think back to the

Dimitrov affair...

..the fear we all experienced.

A source of income - that's how

my parents thought Dimitrov.

And they were very pleased

when Gustl Scherchen introduced

him to them.

We knew him under two names.

Heidegger and Steiner.

And maybe we knew he was a

communist.

Gustl and Hermann Scherchen

were both associated to the

German socialist movement...

..and Hermann Scherchen was

a conductor,

and as a musician,

he wrote and composed songs

for the German labour movement.

Gustl, what I've always wanted

to know is

how Dimitrov came to live

at our place,

and also, were you responsible

for it?

Or what did you have to do

with it? Did you know him?

And so on. Can you tell

me anything about it?

In a way, I can

tell you very little

because I never knew Dimitrov

at the time,

nor had I heard his name.

A friend one day came to my

house and asked

whether I could find a quiet

room amongst my friends

where a friend of his

could study during the day.

I don't know why

it occurred to me to give him

your parents' name.

Well, I know.

- Anyhow...

- I can answer that.

He...he went,

and apparently your parents

were struck

by his personal charm,

I should say, and his

intelligence.

And this is all until the

Reichstag fire occurred,

that I suddenly heard his name

and also,

where...away...where...

..that Dimitrov had stayed

with you.

Hmm.

Well, I can give you

the answer why you did it,

because I think the parents

were rather worried

that Father should lose

his job,

which after all happened

eventually, a bit later,

but it did happen, and they

were frightened

that they would be quite

penniless, but with a lodger

in the house, it would bring at

least something in.

Some money.

I think that was the

main reason.

But of course everybody was

struck...

..what a nice man he was,

and had personal charm,

and his intelligence, but he

didn't come...

He had two aliases. He didn't

come with the name of Dimitrov.

That only came out on

the... In fact, in the paper,

when one read about the

Reichstag fire,

when they said that they tried

to accuse him

of having started all this,

as being a member of the

Communist Party.

Well, the real names he had

were either Dr Heidegger

or Dr Steiner, they were

aliases which he used,

and some of his books, even,

which he had in the house

- had that name inside.

- Hmm.

And I can't remember under

which name

he was actually known to us,

whether it was Heidegger

or Steiner.

I think it was Heidegger,

because Steiner, I think,

was something I only found out

a bit later, and that was that.

But it was a bit of a surprise

of course to find out

that he was an active member

of the Communist Party.

You suspected always he could

be because his books were...

..his library,

which he had at our place,

were books on the teaching,

partially, of Marxism

and partially of Leninism and

partially of...

..communist books in general,

you know? Communist tendency.

But that's about all we knew

about him,

and he was a very pleasant man

who came in and worked,

was very quiet.

That's all we knew.

But it's funny. I've always

been under the impression

that...you knew who he was,

and I mean, it's the first

time, really,

- I've heard that you didn't.

- Yes.

No, I had no idea,

nor did I ever, ever see him.

Nor did...

..did your mother mention

any name

under which he lived there,

apart from that she found him

so very agreeable.

Oh, yes.

And the police came to you

because they found

Dimitrov's diary,

and in his diary

he had all coded telephone

numbers,

and when they were able to

decode it,

they came across your

family's name.

And this is how the police

then interrogated

your father and mother.

Naturally, neither your father

or mother could tell them

anything about Dimitrov,

apart from the personal

experience they had.

But...

And they could never

establish...

The police could never

establish

that they really knew anything

about the political nature

of his work. But, all the same,

the interrogation was

so disagreeable

that your parents

committed suicide,

- and luckily survived it.

- Yes.

Survived it.

After the events of the

Reichstag fire,

and all the terrible

repercussions,

I decided to

move out of Germany.

I became a qualified accordion

teacher and persuaded Hohner

to send me to France to sell

accordions and harmonicas

and to start music clubs.

A few months later, I was

forced to leave the country

when the authorities discovered

I had no work permit,

so I went to Holland and

continued to teach

and to sell accordions.

MAN: A bicycle is the best

illegal method of transport.

A cyclist can suddenly change

speed and direction

without being too conspicuous,

thus causing difficulty to a

pursuer who,

if he does not wish to reveal

himself, has to go on his way.

After six months, I was once

again reported

for working illegally,

and as I did not want to return

to Berlin,

I decided that I should

try and settle in Russia.

Some friends arranged a meeting

for me

with an associate of Dimitrov's

called Löwenstein,

who was due to leave for Moscow

in a few days.

Goedenmiddag.

ACCORDION MUSIC PLAYS

Mr Schmidt?

Mr Löwenstein.

Your sister said you would try

and come today.

It had to be soon. I'm leaving

for Moscow in a few days.

I have a lecturing post

waiting for me,

so I should be well established

by the time you arrive.

I think if you come

in about a month,

I shall have things sorted out

by then.

There's a ship leaving for

Russia from Antwerp

in about four or five weeks.

It's called the Dezner.

You'll have to find these

things out more exactly

for yourself and also get the

appropriate visas.

When I get to Moscow, I shall

send you my address

and also speak to Dimitrov.

His influence should make it

possible for you to stay there,

and I'm sure he'll take

care of you initially.

I'll also make an appointment

for you

at the Comintern office.

They'll extend your visa so

that you're not just a tourist.

If there's anything else you

need to know,

my sister will put you

in touch with me.

But remember, I'm leaving

in a few days.

OK. Thanks very much.

- I'll see you in Moscow.

- Goodbye.

On November 22nd 1935,

I boarded the Dezner

at Antwerp and set off

for Leningrad,

where I then took a train

to Moscow.

Before leaving, I had changed

all my Dutch guilders

into Reichsmark

because the exchange rate

was so favourable.

However, on arrival in Russia,

I discovered that the Mark was

no longer legal tender there,

so without money but full

of confidence,

I set off for the

Comintern office

to see what Löwenstein

and Dimitrov

had arranged for me.

DOOR OPENS

DOOR OPENS

I am sorry,

but I have to tell you

there is nothing

I can do for you.

Mr Dimitrov left no message

to say that you were coming.

He is in the Crimea at present,

convalescing after an illness,

so there is no chance

of you seeing him.

And I can see...

..no reason for you to stay

here

from what you have told me.

You have never been a member of

the Communist Party.

And it would seem that...

..your father has...

..an important and comfortable

position

at Carl Lindström's...

..in a country governed

by National Socialists.

My father's position has

nothing to do with me.

If you must know,

he lives in constant fear of

losing his job.

Also...

Mr Dimitrov stayed in our

house two years ago.

You may stay here

for a few days.

But that's all.

Good day, Mr...

..Schmidt.

I had ten days to decide

what to do.

The Löwensteins gave me some

dollars to buy a train ticket

back to Berlin,

but there was still the problem

of my Reichsmark.

At that time,

one was only allowed to take

ten Marks out of Germany.

I had several hundred to

smuggle back in.

Some I left with the

Löwensteins,

and the remainder

they helped me to hide

in the lids of Vaseline jars.

I was accompanied on the train

from Moscow to Berlin

by a Russian official.

He left me at a Polish

frontier town.

After the two narrow escapes

at the German border,

I arrived, I suppose one could

say safely, back in Berlin.

I went to visit a friend of the

family

who was recovering from

the effects

of internment under

National Socialism.

What was it like?

NARRATOR: Johannes Schmidt was

called up in 1937

to join the Secondary Reserve

of the Wehrmacht.

He arrived in London from

Berlin

on a year's leave of absence

to study music.

His visa was renewed annually

until 1946,

when he became a British

citizen,

having been stateless

for the war years.

He visited Berlin at least five

times between 1956 and 1979...

..the most memorable time being

1956.

On that occasion,

unknown to anyone but himself,

he fell in love with Sophie,

Kurt and Gerhard's younger

sister.

He left after two days

to join his orchestra for a

concert in Leningrad.

PIANO MUSIC PLAYS

By the time I had arrived

in England,

most of my family had

also left Germany.

Then it's all about my mother,

who finally settled here

in 1939.

She had been going backwards

and forwards between England

and Germany, tying up affairs

and trying to bring over

what she could. All of

our furniture and so forth

was paid for to come here,

but we got nothing. The Nazis

auctioned it all.

When the war had started,

we received a letter from

Holland saying that

if we sent £400, the furniture

would be sent over,

but that would have just been

£400 to the Nazis,

so we didn't send it

and we didn't have it.

On her final trip over here,

my mother was caught for trying

to smuggle out

her furs and jewellery.

She was in prison

for three days.

Fortunately, my father knew

the Bechstein piano people.

They were great Nazis and

friends of Hitler's,

but Bechstein was also a friend

of my father's too.

I think my father rang him up

from London to ask him to try

and get my mother out,

which he did.

By the way, Bechstein perhaps

wasn't quite such a great Nazi.

He was what we used to call

a Muss-Nazi.

He had to join the party

in order to keep his business

going.

NARRATOR: Johannes Schmidt,

now known as John Smith,

joined the alien Pioneer Corps

of the British Army in 1940

in order to, in his own words,

have a go at the Nazis.

He was given the choice

of three British names.

Smart, Smith or Smyth.

There were two reasons for his

disillusionment with Army life.

Firstly, the British NCO showed

signs of resentment

and made him and his colleagues

feel like "bloody foreigners".

Secondly, he saw no action.

His section was due to leave

for France immediately, but an

outbreak of German measles

prevented this occurrence.

In retrospect, he considers

himself lucky,

as many of his colleagues did

not return.

In 1945, in the last few days

of the war,

a close friend of his,

also a German, was killed

in action in Germany

by a German mine.

Johannes had thought him

one of the best clarinet

players he had ever heard.

In West Germany, and here too,

although perhaps it's not

so obvious,

it's customary to reduce

everything to law and order.

The State must be protected

from opposition at all cost

and literally all cost.

The amount spent on security is

quite staggering.

It seems one can no longer

express oneself freely

and publicly

if one is, so to speak, not in

tune with the State.

How public is public,

I've often wondered.

Things like that are never

really clear.

In fact, the law is never

really clear.

If a case is to be made of

this book,

and I think one will be,

it has to be proved that it's

either a historical work...

..a work of art

or a...historical narrative.

And how on earth do you prove

or, more to the point,

disprove such things?

Kurt sees the case

as bad for business.

A general nuisance.

He feels he's been confronted

by a stupid law.

As a passive director -

I'm only a director on paper -

I have decided to become a

little more active.

The public prosecutor maintains

that the book advocates

violence...

..but ruthless political games

have to be exposed for

what they are.

Other publishers have been

known to win their cases,

and Langsdorf has never been

considered

particularly radical.

I don't know if this will help

the case or not.

But it's all hypothetical,

because there is no case

as yet.

We just fear there may be one.

This is the first time I've

ever thought about

the intricacies of the law,

the first time I've ever been

put into the position

of having to think about it.

Of course, I broke the law by

leaving the GDR,

but that was different.

I've thought a lot

about that too.

I've never been really able to

make up my mind,

but in the end,

I just acted on impulse.

And can't do that now.

The whole thing has to be

carefully considered.

Things are less straightforward

and more insidious than

they appear.

THEY CHAT IN GERMAN

SOPHIE: This law, I discovered,

is very similar

to the one passed in 1933,

the Reichspräsident's decree

for the protection of the

German people,

and like so many other aspects

of our society,

it escaped the vacuum of 1945,

when we thought a new Germany

would emerge.

SOPHIE: We are all democrats

now,

for to be a democrat is

up to date.

We're almost more democratic

than in the States.

Sit.

Sit down.

PLANE PASSES OVERHEAD

40 Marks - £1.

10 Marks - $1.

20 cigarettes - 135 Marks.

British officer's cigarette

ration - 200 a week.

German civilian's cigarette

ration - seven a week.

3lb of bread - 100 Marks.

Fixed price - 40 Pfennigs.

1 lb of coffee - 40 Marks.

1 lb of butter - 600 Marks.

A wristwatch - 3,000 Marks.

A toothbrush - five Marks.

An apple - a cake of soap.

A cake of soap - 50 Marks.

A pillow - one bucket of coal.

One old uniform

and 50 cigarettes -

one civilian suit.

Oh...

SOPHIE: There have been periods

in my life since then,

only once or twice,

when I have felt that I was

immersed in history

as it happened.

That's what I call it when a

situation develops that makes

one feel as if something

new is about to happen -

an unexpected change in the

day-to-day pattern of life,

and you are in the

middle of it.

And when I feel sad I think,

"Why does it have to be us?"

I don't mean me.

It could be anybody.

Paul Grotenberg - secretly

sentenced to five years.

No-one knew.

Charge - suspected handling

of weapons.

A pistol found in the rubble

of Berlin.

Seven youths detained

for an indefinite period.

Nothing was heard of them

until five years later,

when they returned,

bitter and betrayed.

VEHICLE DRIVES AWAY

JOHANNES: During the war years,

I had lost touch with my

friends in Germany,

but in the summer of '46

I received a letter from Kurt.

I have moved away from

home, as I found it

impossible to settle down there

again,

having been away for so long.

I've moved to Neukölln,

to Ilse's place,

and, together, we're just about

surviving.

Food is so scarce and so

expensive.

We've sold so many things just

so that we could eat.

It's terrible for us to see

the occupying troops

living it up at our expense.

Even if we could afford to join

them in their extravagancies,

entry to nightclubs and cinemas

is forbidden to us.

Even some of the toilets

are segregated.

And I've heard stories of

Americans deliberately

running over German

pedestrians.

And as if this

wasn't enough,

thousands of people are dying

of malnutrition

and other diseases.

For me, it's far worse than

during the war.

Gerhard is a prisoner of war

in America.

We don't know when we shall

see him again.

My stepfather was killed

in an air raid in '44,

but Sophie is looking after my

mother as best she can.

Her boyfriend Paul got

taken away by the Russians.

No-one knows where he is.

Of course Sophie is very upset.

It's funny to think

she was only six

when you last saw her.

So many people have been put

in prison or camps

by the military occupation,

even anti-Nazis.

As I'd been in a German

military prison

when Berlin was taken,

I had no trouble

with the denazification boards.

You see, I'd been involved

in writing and distributing

anti-fascist literature

when I was in the army.

I hereby declare that I,

John Smith,

formerly Johannes Schmidt,

of Jewish origin,

was taught the bassoon by

Heinz-Dieter Wentscher

for ten months,

from 1936 to '37,

possibly at great risk to

himself.

He told me at the time

that he had only joined the

National Socialist Party

in order to keep his job with

the Berlin State Opera.

In darkest Germany, people

drift about

with such a lassitude that you

are always

in danger of running them down

if you happen to be in a car,

as, being a Britisher,

you almost invariably are.

MUSIC PLAYS OVER SPEECH

NARRATOR: One of the most

critical breaches

of the Potsdam Agreement was

the order issued in June 1948,

the Westmark in West Berlin.

The new currency, already

introduced in West Germany,

in breach of agreements, was

thus brought into West Berlin.

Two currencies in one and the

same city,

an alien currency in the middle

of the Soviet Occupation Zone.

This meant the economic

division of Berlin.

Even the Western powers have to

admit that, by this step,

they have broken the

four-power agreements.

On August 30th 1948, all four

powers

signed the following

agreement in Moscow.

MAN: The German Mark of the

Soviet Zone

shall be introduced as the sole

currency in Berlin,

and the Western D-Mark

shall be withdrawn

from circulation in Berlin.

NARRATOR: But a few days later,

this agreement too was broken.

The Western Mark remains

in circulation in West Berlin.

It represents an illegal

claim to the Western sectors

and at the same time a factor

to disturb the development

of the surrounding territory,

the Soviet Occupation Zone.

I was captured by the Americans

in 1944

and spent a year as a prisoner

of war in America.

Just after the war had ended,

we were sold by the Americans

to the French

to help rebuild the devastated

European economy.

By the time I returned to

Germany in 1949,

it had been divided into two

separate states...

..although neither acknowledged

the existence of the other.

You know as well as I do

that the process of dismantling

is still going on full blast.

The negotiations on halting

them

were conducted in the name

of the party,

and we put it across

to the public.

You can well imagine what that

means to us now.

Isn't there, in fact, any

possibility

of really bringing the process

of dismantling to a halt,

or can't the party at least

officially

dissociate itself from it?

No, there's no possibility.

And what do you have to say to

that?

They pay no attention to us.

We'd better not speak about it.

Why can't we talk about

the behaviour

of Soviet occupation forces

freely and openly?

So as to explain the situation

and to dissociate the party

from these incidents,

and at the same time try

to save its reputation

from being damaged by them.

If we don't do it, others will,

then use them to stir up

nationalist trouble generally.

You've been to Moscow several

times

in the last year-and-a-half.

Has any attempt been made to at

least open this question there?

Yes, an attempt has been made.

With Stalin.

And how did it turn out?

Stalin replied

with an old Russian proverb.

"In every family there's

a black sheep."

He said nothing more.

When one of us tried to put the

matter more seriously

and hint at the consequences,

he was interrupted by Stalin.

"I will not allow anyone

"to drag the reputation of

the Red Army in the mud."

That was the end

of the conversation.

JOHANNES: Our thesis about a

separate German road

to socialism still remained

the official party line.

But what was it worth

in the face of the

adulation of Stalin?

The telegrams of greetings

and good wishes

to the Soviet Union?

The petitions, negotiations

and thanksgivings to the

Soviet administration?

Gradually, my doubts increased.

In August 1947,

I paid a visit to a friend of

my childhood, Mischa Wolf,

whom I had known at the

Comintern school.

He was now a commentator

on foreign affairs

for East Berlin radio, under

the name of Michael Storm.

He had a still more important

function as comptroller

responsible for the principal

political broadcasts.

He had particularly good

relations

with very senior Soviet

circles,

and he occupied a luxurious

five-roomed apartment in

Bayernallee, not far from the

radio building in West Berlin.

Since I last saw him, he had

married Emmi Stenzer,

the blue-eyed blonde at the

Comintern school

who had reported things I said

to the school authorities

and thus became the cause

for my first self-criticism.

"It's wonderful to see you

again," he said.

"You can come with us to our

country house right away.

"We always spend our weekends

there."

An hour later, we stopped in

front of a fine villa

beside a large lake.

It was the property of Mischa,

who was then 25 years old.

It really is time that you

change that theory of yours

about a separate German road

to socialism.

The party line will be totally

different.

Mischa, with all respect to

your position and cleverness,

I know a bit more about

the political line than you do.

After all, I've worked

in the Central Secretariat

and I write the party manuals,

which are authoritative for

all members and officials

of the entire party.

There are higher authorities

than your Central Secretariat.

But a separate German road to

socialism is expressly stated

in the charter and programme

of the SED.

Then it must be rewritten!

I have been told in

extreme confidence

that a stop will soon be

put to this theory.

If I were in your position,

I shouldn't talk

or write so much about it.

That way, the change-about will

be much easier when it comes.

Some weeks later,

I was sitting expectantly

in the German State Opera.

The second party congress

of the SED was opened

to the solemn strains

of Beethoven.

On the third evening

of our discussions,

Hermann Mattern stood up at

the table on the platform

and boomed down the hall.

"It is now my privilege

to convey to the meeting,

"in addition to many greetings

from all over the world,

"the most important

greeting of all."

He then read out the Soviet

message of greeting,

which had been signed by

Suslov,

the secretary of the

Central Committee

of the Communist Party of the

Soviet Union.

All eyes were turned to the box

in which Suslov sat as the

guest of the congress.

He stood up and cried,

in German,

"Long live the Socialist

Unity Party of Germany."

When the applause at this had

died down,

Mattern shouted from the table

on the platform,

"Long live the Communist Party

of the Soviet Union.

"Long live its

Central Committee.

"Long live its leader, Stalin!"

In the year-and-a-half

since the assembly

to unify the Social Democrats

with the German Communist

Party,

the SED had greatly changed.

At that first congress,

a greeting of this kind

would have been impossible.

I had now realised how

insolubly we were chained

to the Soviet Union.

I never had a real desire

to leave.

I had no reason to.

My friends and my work

were in East Berlin.

I was a socialist. I still am,

in fact,

although I never joined

the SED.

Of course I'm critical

of the GDR...

..but then I'm critical

of West Germany.

Obviously, my biggest regret

is that I'd had to wait

so long to travel.

I don't think that that should

be the case.

Prost!

I could understand Paul

wanting to leave.

The Russians released him

from Sachsenhausen in '51.

He finished his apprenticeship

and then left early in '53.

He had had enough

of the Russians

and Ulbricht

and his colleagues.

I thought that Sophie would go

over with him

but in fact she was waiting

to see what was going

to happen. Cigarette?

Stalin had just died.

Food was short,

wages were low.

There was a constant pressure

to increase production norms.

There was a lot of unrest

at that time.

It all culminated in the June

riots of '53.

Sophie was disillusioned.

The riots had brought about

a few changes,

but there was a purge

within the party

and a number of good people

were removed from office.

So, she went over to the West

to join Paul.

SOPHIE: I made a number of

journeys by S-Bahn

to West Berlin,

each time taking a small

bag of possessions.

People rarely took large cases

with them when they went over

as suspicion would probably

have been aroused.

Passengers were often searched

for suspected smuggling.

JOHANNES: In 1956, I visited

Berlin for the first time

since 1937.

I was on my way to Russia

for a concert tour,

and we stopped for a couple

of days in Berlin.

There I met Kurt

and, for the first time,

his half-sister Sophie.

They drove me through the city.

NARRATOR: Although massive

rebuilding programmes

were being carried out,

Johannes was shocked by the

extent of the devastation

to that city he had once

known and loved...

..the streets and squares

that were once so beautiful.

Do you prefer it in the West?

I had an image of it,

and it didn't fit.

One always seems to be doomed.

One longs for what one does not

have.

When I was in the GDR,

I felt amputated.

I longed for the freedom of the

West,

and when I was in the West,

I sometimes longed for the

collectivity of the GDR.

Tja...

And what about you?

How do you find it being back

in Berlin?

It's strange.

I look around and feel...

..they had it coming to them.

RADIO: I never will forget my

expedition to my dear friend.

One hour before the train

started...

NARRATOR: On 13th August 1961,

John Smith was having tea

with his parents,

as he regularly did at weekends

if he wasn't working.

It is not clear whether it was

the radio or the television

that first drew his attention

to the main point of the news

that day.

HAMMERING

CLANGING

At the time, the news of the

Berlin Wall

had made a deep impression

on Johannes,

but in the years that followed,

he thought less and less

about any significant

political developments

which took place in Germany.

JOHANNES: I drove Kurt and

Sophie

to the publisher's office,

where they had arranged to meet

the author of the book.

Apparently, Volkmann was now

attempting to sue

the original English publisher.

They asked me to go in with

them,

but I decided to leave as I had

a difficult piece to play

the following day,

and with the others around, I

had not been able to practise.

I have a difficult piece

to play

on Monday night. It's Mahler 9.

There are a few complicated

solos in it

which I haven't been

able to practise very much.

To be in an orchestra,

you're just a cog on a wheel.

You help to create an

ensemble...

..but you're told all the time

what to do...or what not to do.

But when it comes to playing a

solo passage,

you've still got to try

and put an interpretation

in it.

Feeling. Warmth of tone.

And so on.

To sit in an orchestra

is quite a difficult thing.

You've got to be very patient.

You've got to rely on your

nerve not to let you down

at the crucial moment,

because playing the odd

solo passage is difficult.

It's not like being a soloist

all the time.

And everybody, I think,

gets nervous.

It's of course also a thrill to

play in an orchestra

because in the end,

you have the satisfaction of

having performed,

and, after all, we are

entertainers.

We like to give pleasure

to the audience,

and the applause in the end

is what counts.