HiStory

17th June 1953

This is a translation of the german story
“Der 17. Juni 1953″
written by Dieter Wilhelm and posted by Horst Hommel.
The large Frankfurter Allee in Berlin leads in an easterly direction away from the Alexanderplatz.
It was rechristened Stalinallee by the GDR government (formerly called eastern zone) and developed into a ‘boulevard’ in ‘Russian gingerbread style’. The labourers were paid according to so-called ‘Levels’ or ‘norms’, which had to be reached. Whoever worked above norm, was well paid.

One day the norms were raised randomly which set off the riots on 17^th June 1953. The eastern zone leadership was deprived of its power. One minister was abducted in his car by furious labourers and handed over to the police there. Ulbricht, the then head of government had to flee his seat of government in an armoured car.

The riots were quelled by the Russian occupying army. Of course I went from West Berlin to the eastern sector in spite of being forbidden to do so by my parents. The Russians drove towards the crowds in tanks and fired above people’s heads in order to disperse the groups which had gathered. It really is a weird feeling to have such a giant approach you, rattling its chains. It didn’t even enter my head to throw stones like the others.

On the contrary, we roared freedom paroles at the East German border troops. When one person, who had dared to go ahead first, was shot down, I ran at least a kilometre to return home gladly. Brother Gerry admitted that evening to also having been at the border.

A few weeks later everything had calmed down, admittedly the norms had been withdrawn but the ringleaders had been arrested. From then on everything concentrated on the subsequent building of the Berlin Wall. Especially, because every week twenty thousand refugees came to West Berlin and left the DDR, as it was later to become known.

The Russians, or rather the recipients of GDR orders, continuously attempted to cause disturbances of some sort. Especially after the Blockade 1949 had become unsuccessful due to the deployment of the ‘Rosinenbomber’, the allied airplanes which supplied Berlin for over a year from the air. I was unaware of the Blockade, at that time I lived in Eichwalde.

Today’s SFB broadcast studio at the Berlin Radio Tower, for example, was taken over by the Russians after the war and was used further by them when West Berlin was handed over to the allied forces, although it was in West Berlin. After all attempts to mediate by the English responsible for that Sector were to no avail, they tugged large rolls of barbed wire around the broadcast studio. Everyone was allowed out, but no-one could get back in. But nobody went out. The Russians lay in the windows and observed the English security forces, who,in turn, observed the Russians – apart from that, nothing happened. The Berliners went in swarms to look at both. Two weeks later the Russians were withdrawn. We preferred listening to the RIAS anyway, the radio broadcast in the American Sector, which was sponsored by the Americans and broadcast more lively music.

The aim of the East German Communists was to suburbanise West Berlin and in doing so they left no stone unturned. In order to stem the flow of refugees, all bags were checked in the city trains at the border stations. Angered passengers once detained a national policeman as their train was approaching. By the time they reached the first stop he had been given a real thrashing and then handed over to police, who sent him back. After this all national policemen had to position themselves in front of the train with their hand raised after each search, only then was the order given for the train to continue its journey.

It was always a strange feeling to drive from West Germany through the Eastern zone to West Berlin and a relief to have crossed the border. The checks were long-winded. You had to get out of the car and pass your passport through a slot, which was then handed back after considerable time from a different counter. Then the car was checked extensively. A huge rollable mirror was wheeled under the car and they poked around in the tank to see if it had been converted into a hideout. Sniffer dogs trained to track down people were used to check lorries. The worst thing was the feeling of being at their mercy and having your rights impinged upon.

At the time of the Building of the Berlin Wall I no longer lived in Berlin, but often had to go there on a matter of business. Two events have particularly lingered in my memory:

Once I saw a couple, obviously just married, in a white wedding dress and tuxedo, directly next to the Wall in West Berlin territory, waving with a handkerchief to their parents, who waved back just a hundred metres away across the border in East Berlin. After the building of the Wall it was not possible for East and West Berliners to get to the other side. Especially the bride cried bitterly on what should have been her happiest day. I will never forget the sight which showed the sheer inhuman brutality of the regime.

Later on I often had to go to East Berlin on business. Once I bought a pineapple and gave it to the elderly doorman of an East Berlin trading centre I had to visit.

He thanked me extensively and explained that he would give half each to his grandchildren, who had never seen anything like it before.

I had bought the pineapple on offer in the West, just four kilometres away!