The Freikorps

You cannot forget the wall. It's like a giant intimidating monument surrounding the city on all sides. Were you to forget it you might easily forget your own head, or believe you were in any other Communist city. Sooner or later though there wouldn't even be a wall, but even then Herman doubted people would forget it. The thought of an old man being unable to cross the street at Bernauer Strasse because he believed the wall was still there made him smile. Everything this year made Herman pull a wide smile. Just by recalling the years a events was like a comedy act in his head. First a revolt in China, then Poland, Romania, Russia and at last Germany where the government had yielded to pressure and opened the borders to the West. The grimace he pulled was big enough to think he might of conducted this himself, and to an extent that was true. Now as Herman Görlitzer strolled through East Berlin he no longer needed to be conscious of smiling too widely. The Stasi, even if they were watching him, couldn't do anything to him anyhow. They were all a paper tiger. The Soviets with all their tanks and guns, who years earlier might of arrested him on charge of happiness couldn't do a thing to him. He had finally won. No, not yet he thought looking through a meter wide gap in the wall and spying a group of happy teens. They have won. He was coming up near Pankow now and still there was no one on his side of the wall. The streets were deserted save for a few street vendors. Originally Herman had come out for some fruit but hadn’t bothered to get any when he passed his local vendor. Instead he walked as far north along the wall as possible, but now he thought it best to get some, less he return home empty handed. It was just a mere happy coincidence that the vendor he choose happened to be a very sad looking woman. He asked for some oranges, two pears, a pineapple and a banana. At first she seemed not to notice, but it turned out that as with most depressed people she was only still because she didn't see the point of moving. The woman had smoothe brunette hair that was cut just below her earlobe and wore a face like she had just seen into hell. That changed when she started packing up the fruit. Almost instantly a smile appeared on her face, which was obviously forced and she rushed into a motion similar to that of a crack addicts. In fact she rushed herself so much that the bag she packed tore in half “Oh sorry!” the woman exclaimed and at once began packing another bag only for that to tear also. “Ah, sorry”. She was rushing so much that her hands were almost blurs to the eye, and yet again did the bag tear in half. On the third time she was not apologetic and simply threw an orange in frustration. “I'm being as fast as I can sir” “Just pace yourself, I expect no acrobatics” Herman replied, again smiling. The woman was not calmed though, she proceeded to break yet another paper bag. With that the effort had gone out of her. Her head slumped to gaze at the floor, where the vague remnants of her false smile at once disappeared. “It's just occurred to me, sir that I've been packing too many items into one bag.” “Bag or no bag, it makes no matter to me. I have pockets big enough.” “You're very kind” She bent down to get some larger paper bags “Schieße! No more bags!” This was becoming a comedy act to Herman, and the woman could see his smile and was irked by it. She made a defiant puff and after puzzling for a moment or two she snapped to attention. “I'm sorry sir. This doesn't normally happen but would you be willing take these in individual bags, or perhaps in your pockets?” “Today isn't a normal day for both of us” The man said “I'd be willing” The woman made a sigh of relief as she began picking up the bits of fruit scattered around the counter, but Herman wasn't finished. “Only if you make it up to me, with a coffee” Herman didn't know what was coming over him. He hardly knew this woman and had neither the time nor desire to work toward that end. Yet the wall in Berlin wasn't the only thing being torn down. Every inclination in the man's heart felt that his mood depended on the political climate, and with clear skies from Tiananmen to Alexanderplatz he felt like sharing this happiness. The woman was apprehensive however. Most likely she had gone down this road before, starting an evening with a stranger and a drink, and ending it in a police station. But she was thinking it over. There were no customers for miles, so Herman assumed that of course she would toss it for some free coffee. Yet her lips twisted in consideration and she clawed her hands through her short brown hair five times before she answered. “Maybe, if you answer me this: Are you Stasi?” “The accusation belittles my good character. I am what you see before you” “You speak unusually posh, is all. That being said what I see before me is a man, and with that comes the usual...issues” “I am not your average man you'll find. I want nothing from you save fruit.” She studied him as one would a very cheap but well made piece of porcelain. “If you pay for this coffee and I see it being made, I will go.” “Deal” “Then give me five minutes to pack up” She passed him the fruit and walked to a van It was around ten by Herman's count, but she did pack up her little fruit stand and that's all that mattered. She put all the goods in a big van, taking little care as she flung them inside. Nothing so far had convinced Herman that this woman was anything other than sad. Her face was sad, her body language was sad, with hints of anger and even her clothes were sad. He felt like saying wearing a black coat didn't suit her, but he was hardly a fashion expert and it wouldn't be the most glamorous thing to say. Instead he said nothing as the two walked side by side down Pankow, he just looked around. In retrospect it didn't look like this was a good idea, but he was still hopeful. “I know a coffee place down the road” The woman said “It's a bit odd but it's the closest” “What's so odd about it?” He asked probably knowing the answer “It doesn't exactly represent the spirit of the time” She stared toward the wall. It was hidden now behind a wall of buildings, but you couldn’t forget it was there. Like a demented pervert around every corner, it could not be forgotten. “Where are you from” “Karl-Marx-Stadt” Herman replied “Here? I thought you were from Russia or something. You have a very formal accent” There was a reason for that, but Herman could hardly share. “People from Saxony tend to have that. What about you?” “Can't you tell? I'm from Poland” “Could've fooled me. Your German is exquisite. Better than most anyone” “Now I didn't say I was Polish. My family were German's for the most part, though they had to keep it hidden what with the exodus and all.” Herman knew all too well about that, and thought to tread carefully with his next question “What are you doing here then? In Germany?” She looked like she was offended but her mouth twisted and it seemed she was rather puzzled herself as to why. “Long story, but in essence my mother died a few years ago, and since back then I was 17 I was required to be under the care of a guardian. My father had lived here since before the wall, so I came here and worked for him” “Oddly short I'd say” He saw her smile for the first time and it induced him to do the same, though that only increased the size of his own wide grin “You smile so much. Do you know something I don't?” “I know nothing except that those who have r***d our country are turning in their graves” Though her smile didn’t disappear it did lessen, and at that he was shocked. “You're one of the protesters...one of the wall climbers” She said with a steady apprehension, rolling her thoughts inside her head before she committed them to words “I'm..not exactly sure if I support that” This surprised Herman, and in a good way. He always wondered if there were people like this. Actual Communists “Elaborate” “Oh, well, I never liked the wall, no one ever did. I just wish our side was the one knocking it down. Because...we built it for a reason. Capitalism unrefined is like unfiltered water. You know? Like with Yugoslavia, they have some capitalism but some socialism and it works. I just don't think the west will moderate itself. I'm not a communist or anything I just..” she was getting nervous. Her eyes were darting to the direction of the wall and then to the ground, where she'd try and avoid Herman's gaze. “I'm socialist, I guess” Herman despised socialists, almost as much as Communists, but he could hardly debate her, where would it get him? So he decided to take her tactic of thinking over a response and wondered to himself for a bit. He was on the cusp of saying something, when the woman pointed out the coffee store she had mentioned. “Should we stop there?” She said. Herman could barely make out where she was talking about, until he noticed a big black box, similar to a news vendor in the west, with some chairs around it. “Not exactly appealing. To hell with coffee, should we just make this a nice walk?” “Where would we be walking to?” “The River” “I hardly know your name and you expect me to walk that far with you?” “Halfway then. I'd much rather talk” Again she was apprehensive, but she lamented and without a word continued walking “I'm not sure why I'm doing this. Maybe its because I haven't had a customer in a week, but...I don't know” “I think you do know. Do you recognise my face?” “No, should I?” “Then how about my name? Herman Görlitzer” “Somewhat..why are you famous?” “You could say that.” He twisted his thoughts around thinking carefully about what he was about to say next. She could still be Stasi, though the probability was at this point very low. “Suffice to say you're not the only one wishing the wall had been destroyed from this side” He wasn't smiling now, and neither was she. He had taken a sensible stance of austereness considering the gravity of what he might or might not say. “Not from what I see around me..Herman was it?” He nodded “Everyone seems on board with the west...oh dear it's just come back to me” Her eyes and mouth widened with shock “You're the man they put on the posters. ” Far from being starstruck she stopped walking and simply stared up at his now cold emotional face with a sense of foreboding. “This is...I'm not sure what this is. A trap?” “Not at all. I'm not here to kill you, debate you, kidnap you or anything like that. Fact is I'm bored, and I know you are too. I can tell you recognised me. You might have convinced yourself you hadn't, but no body fumbles like that when their meeting just an ordinary person” “Don't think too highly of yourself. I may now know who you are, but don’t think anyone else knows who you are. And yes I am bored, you're right, but if I knew you were a wall climber I wouldn't of bothered” “Its nothing like that. I'm not here as a politician. Consider me a person willing to learn, not dispute. Quite honestly I would've run away ages ago if you hadn't brought up the thing you said about the wall. There must be a reason you’re so sad, other than the wall climbers.” “That's none of your business. I should be asking while you were smiling so much” “I'll go on at length on why I smile, but I'd be repeating things I already know. You on the other hand. Well I doubt very much you know why you're sad” She scoffed, but it wasn't a dismissive one. She lowered her head in reflection, not for the first time this evening, and thought things over. Nothing made her more sad than another hour and a half by the fruit stand. But there was more to it, more than she could trust him with “Okay, Herman” she said with a bit more spirit “I'll tell you why I'm sad if you tell me why you're happy, and a bit more” “Sure, but shall we walk and talk” And they began walking again, and this time with a bit more spirit. “Well, where to start” the woman said thoughtfully “I said to you I was born in Poland, yes? Well there's a bit more to it. My fathers around seventy, closer to eighty now, and he was born in Danzig, when the kaiser was in charge. Well he lived well off with a few businesses from his parents until the Communists took Poland. They said he must leave and take his vast amount of money with him. So he challenged the Soviet Soldiers tasked with escorting him to the border to a game of poker, with the understanding that should he lose they'd get all his money and he'd leave. The way my father told it, it's like you're in the room with him, but since he's not here we'll just say he won. “But things in Poland got harder because each new business kept getting seized by the government, and he'd have to make a new one with massive loses. Well in between this time, my father met my mother. She was a German he was German, they just clicked and before you know it my father has five children to take care of. His money is exhausted though so he does a very...not foolish but a most ignoble decision and runs away to the DDR. It doesn't matter though, mother does her best with my older brothers and before you know it they’re all grown up. Then after my mother's alone once again, dad comes back into the picture. He recites a speech to my mother with overtures of love, and once again you'd have to hear my father describe it to get the real picture. The essence is that they embrace in one moment of passionate love, so passionate was it that they forget to use contraception, thinking that they’re both too old to even have children. Nine months later I come into existence. A sickly after thought of a child, but the only daughter she's had, and at her age she's lucky to have me. Nonetheless, she's sick most of the time and I have to work tirelessly to support us. At eight I cleaned dishes, nine I cleaned houses. By ten I've cleaned half of Poznan and its cutlery. But after all this work it doesn't change what I am- an accident, barely worthy of being called an after thought. I go years without a birthday or visit from my father. My brothers are busy half the time and I just work, for around ten years, until mother dies. “It took a direct order from the social services to get my father to pick me up and send me to Germany, and when he did, I just kept doing what I had been for all those years. Selling fruit is so boring, it's not even recently that I realised that. In fact I like that now everyone's gone I don't have to listen to their dull stories about what type of shoe polish they prefer, or how to make tank tires in less than ten steps.” “Why do you support Socialism then, if they've made you work for so long?” “Because...it's not socialism. It's what I've been working for. I don't really mind working or suffering, it just needs to be for a purpose. I just don’t think I could live knowing I've worked half of my life for nothing.” If she was sad before, Herman didn't know what she was now. Her head was slumped toward the concrete, and she walked at such a snail pace that it was a real effort to keep level with it. For a while the two refused to recognise each other's existence and walked amidst their own thoughts. Herman was intrigued by this woman, now more than ever. She wasn’t really a socialist, as much as he was a fascist. She had her own reasons for supporting socialist ideals, none of which was because she had an advanced knowledge of Karl Marx or Leon Trotsky; they were entirely emotional reasons. Herman could deeply empathise “Go on then” She said wiping away something from her eyes, which on second thought might of been tears. “Why do you smile so much?” “Long story, happy ending. I never used to smile much, because this and that issue was in my way. Then earlier this year it dawned upon me and had spun the roulette wheel that would decide the fate of the German people, and later I saw the ball land on green” “I’m not familiar with betting” “Don't worry about that. I've just won a considerable battle” “So is that why you're happy, you've won a ton of money?” “No, that's not it...what's your name?” “Polina Griefswald” “I'm not rich Polina, far from it. But if there's one thing Communism has taught me, is that you don't need money to find happiness. In fact there's a song which describes my sentiments exactly” Ich liebe den Wein, mein Mädchen vor allen, sie tut mir allein am besten gefallen. Ich sitz nicht alleine bei meinem Glas Weine, mein Mädchen dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei! Polina giggled a bit. Herman seemed to be drunk despite not having a drop of anything today. It was a good feeling, having the loose feel of being drunk without any of the nasty side effects. “I know that song!” Polina exclaimed “Mother used to sing it” And she went on with her own rendition. Die Gedanken sind frei! My thoughts give me power No scholar can map them. No hunter can trap them No man can deny Die Gedanken sind frei! Both were smiling now, and for a brief moment they had almost forgotten the wall until it had reared its ugly head around the corner. They were no longer alone now. Upon that wall sat a throng of protesters, wall climbers and the like who made a noise like a horde of angry elephants. When Polina saw them she stopped in her tracks. “I'd best go, it's getting late. But maybe we should meet again” She said “Sure, but I'll tell you now: I have no interest in dating you whatsoever” “Oh, well good.” “It's just that with situations like this both parties might lead each other on. I don't want that. I've got better things to do” “No, I understand. Just seems a bit odd, but nevermind, where do you want to meet up?” “Tomorrow at Janowski Straße. Come around eight or so, maybe earlier.” “I was thinking of Alexanderplatz. They have good coffee there” “I have something different in mind. But if you want I'll get you some coffee, it's just that what I need to do can't be done in Alexanderplatz.” He put his hand on Polina's shoulder and looked her in the eye “You’re not the only one who thinks this wall should fall on the west.” “I don't understand. Are you inviting me to a Communist conference or a wall climber meeting?” “Neither. Just keep an open mind until tomorrow, and tell no one else what I've said to you. If you don’t want to come that's fine, I know I haven't made the best impression.” “No it's fine. I just want to know what you intend to do.” “Words are wind. To describe it wouldn't be doing it justice. You must be there to hear the speech.” And he let go of her shoulder and offered his hand to shake. She seemed rather apprehensive, but Herman got the notion she was intrigued too. They shook hands “Until tomorrow Polina”