Fire and Steel, Volume 3

by Gerald N. Lund

  “So I do nothing?” Hans cried hotly.

  “Not tonight. See this guy tomorrow, then we’ll talk.”

  November 6, 1923, 3:32 a.m.—Eckhardt residence

  Hans came awake with a start and realized that Emilee was shaking him vigorously. “Hans! The phone is ringing.”

  Shaking off the fog, he crawled out of bed and walked swiftly down to the kitchen. As he passed the clock he looked up. Three-thirty in the morning? Who in the world would be calling at this hour? And then his heart dropped and he snatched up the phone. “Hallo?”

  “Hans?”

  “Mama?”

  There was a long silence. He could hear muffled sobs.

  “Mutti! What’s wrong?”

  “He’s gone,” Inga sobbed. “Vati is gone.”

  “No!” Hans fell back, groping for the chair.

  Suddenly, Emilee was beside him, clasping one hand and holding it tightly. “Is it . . . ?” Tears streaked her face. Hans could only nod.

  Then he asked one question of his mother. “Did he suffer?” was all he could think of to say.

  “No, Hans. He went to sleep and never woke up.”

  “Then that’s a blessing, Mama. Be grateful for that.”

  “I am,” she cried. “I am, Hans. And I know that where he’s going, he’ll be happy now. He was getting so frustrated. . . .” Her voice trailed off. “He must be happy now. And I’m sure that Opa and Oma Eckhardt were waiting there to greet him. No, that’s not why I’m crying.”

  Emilee leaned in until she was close to the phone. “Then why, Mama Inga?”

  “This farm has been in his family for six generations. Hans, how many times have you heard him say that? Six generations of Eckhardts. And now it’s gone. And. . . .” Another sob cut her off, but she forced it back. “And what makes me cry is that I think your father died of a broken heart.”

  Hans leaned in close now too. “We’re going to fix that, Mama. I promise.”

  “But not today,” Emilee said, weeping openly now too. “Mama Inga, we’re coming down to be with you. We’ll be on the first train this morning.”

  Chapter Notes

  This story of Hans Sr. selling his farm for what he thought was a huge profit is based on the actual experience of a member of the Church living in the Stuttgart Branch at this time, as told by his son (see Anderson, Mormons and Germany, 101). However, in that case, the father did not die.

  November 8, 1923, 9:30 a.m.—Graswang Parish church yard, Graswang

  Traditional Catholic funeral rites consisted of three separate functions. The vigil service, or wake, as it was more commonly called, was first. This took place in the Eckhardt home the evening after Hans Eckhardt’s passing. Automobiles, buggies, wagons, and other means of conveyance were lined up and down the road for blocks as the people of the Upper Ammer Valley gathered to pay their respects to the family of one of their own. This had touched Hans deeply. He had expected a lot of people to come, but the response had been overwhelming and heartwarming.

  The funeral liturgy occurred the next day at the parish church in the village. This was the formal requiem or mass for the deceased. Hans had mostly endured this, letting his mind wander as the priest reminded the congregation that death was a time to remember Christ’s victory over death and to give praise and thanks to God for it.

  It was not that Hans doubted that his father still existed somewhere. He wasn’t sure what kind of a state he was in, but he believed that he still existed in some form. Nor did he think that he was languishing in purgatory for untold years while he did penance for neglecting his church attendance for most of his life. So the solemn ritual, the burning of candles, the incessant making of the sign of the cross irked him somehow. This was not what his father would have asked for.

  This morning was the final stage, the burial, which was called the Rite of Committal. And this did touch his soul, more than he had expected. He stood between Emilee and his mother, with Emilee holding on to Alisa’s hand and Hans holding Yolanda in his arms. The rest of his family, including all of his nieces and nephews, were gathered around them in a half circle. Paula, Wolfie, Gretl, and Bruno were across from them. Paula, like most of the women, was weeping quietly.

  It wasn’t a large crowd. Only the closest of their friends had gathered with the family to pay their final respects. They stood now around the open grave, all dressed in black, women weeping quietly behind their veils, men solemnly listening as the priest intoned scriptural passages about the resurrection and life after this life.

  Finally, the priest closed the book and looked around. “If you would move in closer, please,” he said. When they had done so, he reached down and picked up a handful of dirt from the mound at his feet. He held it over the grave and let it trickle out of his hands as he bowed his head and began his prayer. “O Lord, in the name of God, the merciful Father”—he reached down and took another handful—“we commit the body of Hans Eckhardt Sr. to the peace of the grave.” A third handful, then, “God, our Father, we trust his body to the earth. From dust we came, to dust we shall return. May Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, raise you, Hans Eckhardt, up at the last day. Amen.”

  As amens were murmured all around, the priest smiled at the family. “All who would like to place a handful of earth on the casket may do so now. Thank you, brothers and sisters. That concludes our services.”

  Inga led out, whispering something Hans couldn’t hear as she tossed dirt into the grave. Hans and Emilee followed, and Hans helped both Alisa and Yolanda get their handfuls of dirt and lean over to toss them in. To his surprise, as the dirt clattered on the casket, Alisa suddenly burst into tears, holding out her arms in supplication. “Opa! Opa! Opa!”

  Hans handed Yolanda to Emilee and picked Lisa up. She buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed and sobbed. He moved back to let Miki and the others take their turn. A moment later he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned. It was Emilee. She tipped her head slightly and leaned in. “Hans, Adolf is here.”

  He jerked around. “What?” But she was right. Just getting out of the same car Hans had ridden in a few nights before were Emil Maurice and Adolf. Hans whispered something in Lisa’s ear and set her down. “I’ll be right back, Liebchen.”

  “Tell him there will be refreshments at the house,” Emilee called.

  He waved his acknowledgment and strode away. Adolf came across the grass at a swift walk. “Hans, I’m so sorry. We took a wrong turn in Murnau and were too late for the service.”

  Hans was half-dazed. “That’s all right. I didn’t expect you to—”

  “I wanted to be here for you. My deepest condolences to you and your family.”

  “Danke schön, Adolf. It means a lot to me that you would come.”

  Adolf immediately became deadly serious. “There is much going on in Munich today. I am highly reluctant to ask this, but I need you tonight, Hans.”

  “I. . . .”

  “I know, I know. You need to be with family, but. . . .” He stopped talking and reached inside his jacket. He withdrew an envelope and handed it to Hans.

  “What is this?”

  “Take a look.”

  Puzzled, Hans withdrew several folded sheets—one loose one on top, then several that were fastened together. He opened them and began to scan them. Suddenly he gave a low cry. His head snapped up and he stared at Adolf. “But. . . .” His mind was having trouble registering what his eyes were seeing. “How can this be?”

  “Let us just say that Hermann Goering and several of our S.A. men happened to be passing through Garmisch-Partenkirchen yesterday afternoon. And by strange coincidence, they bumped into one of the citizens there. His name was Burnard Lehmann. Do you know the man?”

  Stunned, Hans looked at the papers again and read the single paragraph below the letterhead of a law office.

  To Whom It May
Concern:

  Be it known unto all persons that on this, the 7th day of November in the year of our Lord, 1923, I, Burnard H. Lehmann, do, of my own free will and volition, hereby revoke and renounce all claims, liens, contracts, and other agreements made between myself and Herr Hans Eckhardt of Graswang Village in the State of Bavaria.

  Reeling, Hans saw that below that single paragraph, Lehmann had scrawled his signature, and below that was the stamp and signature of the notary republic. He removed that sheet and stared at the document below it. It was a duplicate of the document Karl had handed him in the car just three days before.

  His head came up. “I don’t understand,” he finally said.

  Adolf grinned. “Goering explained to Herr Lehmann that he has a close connection to you and was deeply disturbed to learn of your losing the farm, especially in light of the death of your father. Goering was sure there had been some mistake. Herr Lehmann nearly burst into tears. He said that he too had just heard of your father’s death and that he was so deeply ‘grieved’ by the loss of his ‘friend,’ Herr Eckhardt Sr., that he felt compelled to undo the transaction he and your father had agreed to a few days before.”

  Hans was having trouble keeping his jaw from hanging open. “Did Goering threaten to. . . .”

  “Some things are better left unsaid,” Adolf said sardonically. “But Goering did say that Herr Lehmann has suddenly decided to move his family to Vienna within the week and will not be returning to Bavaria any time soon. Therefore he signed the papers immediately as a courtesy to you, with his regrets that he wouldn’t be able to attend the funeral. He asked that Hermann convey his regrets that he couldn’t deliver this gift to you personally and that he will very likely never have the opportunity to meet you in person or any of your family ever again.”

  Slowly folding the papers back up again, Hans placed them back in the envelope. Then he raised his head and looked directly into Adolf’s eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

  Instantly Adolf was all business. “Gut. Emil and I must rush back to Munich immediately.”

  “I’ll get my things.”

  “Nein, Hans. You have time to be with your family a little longer. You know Ulrich Graf, my other driver and bodyguard?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “He is on his way here and will be here in about half an hour. He will know where to bring you. I’ll see you then.

  Hans came to full attention with a snap, clicking his heels together and raising his right arm. “Jawohl, mein Führer. I am at your service.”

  Adolf returned the salute and strode away without looking back.

  As the car drove off, Emilee hurried over. “What was that all about?”

  Hans looked over to the grave site. His family members had finished putting earth on the grave and were milling around now. Hans took Emilee’s hand. “I have news for Mama.” He laughed aloud. “And for Karl and Ilse. And for Klaus and Heidi. And for Rudi and Anna.” Then he grabbed her and kissed her hard as he swung her around and around and around.

  4:15 p.m.—Eckhardt dairy farm, Graswang

  Annaliese, Karl’s and Ilse’s oldest, stuck her head out of the kitchen door. “Tante Emilee? Telephone. It’s Onkel Hans.”

  Emilee leaped up and raced to the kitchen. Seeing that Alisa and Yolanda started after her, Anna jumped up and corralled them. “You girls stay here with us. Your mama will be back in a few minutes.”

  Emilee shut the door behind her, pulling it tightly closed. Then she snatched up the phone. “Yes, Hans. It’s me. What is happening?”

  “How is everyone doing?”

  “Still floating in the air,” she said with a smile. “It’s like your mother grew ten years younger in the last four hours. She keeps saying over and over, ‘Papa can rest. Papa can rest now.’ Tell Adolf again how deeply we are in his debt.”

  “I did.” He took a quick breath. “Emilee, I don’t have a lot of time for long explanations or a lot of questions. But I’d like to give you some background before I tell you what’s going on. Okay? Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course. The girls are with Oma and the family. I’m alone.” She was sorely tempted to ask if this was going to be a night like the one when he had come home with an armful of broken glass, but she resisted and said only, “I’m ready.”

  “All right. It really starts right after the Ruhr Valley crisis descended upon us. That was in January. In February, thanks to Ernst Roehm’s organizational abilities, our party joined with four other ‘patriotic leagues’ and formed the Working Union of the Fatherland Fighting Leagues.”

  “Yes, I remember. Wasn’t that right after that huge rally in Nuremberg that you attended with Adolf?”

  “Yes, exactly. And Hitler was chosen as the leader of that alliance. Then in September, we joined an even stronger alliance, the Deutscher Kampfbund. Hitler was one of a trio of leaders of that group. That brought our various security forces, including our own storm troopers, up to about five thousand men. We also got the support of the influential war hero General von Ludendorff.”

  “Really!” That surprised Emilee. The numbers, not the general. She didn’t know who he was.

  “That’s right. And we made no secret of our twofold objective: overthrow the German Republic and tear up the Treaty of Versailles. At that same time, the Berlin government passed what they called the Emergency Act, which imposed totalitarian rule by their Minister of Defense and the General of the Army. But Bavaria, which is much more nationalist and much less leftist, refused to acknowledge Berlin’s action, and our parliament declared its own state of emergency. This act of defiance put us on a collision course with Berlin.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that.”

  “The army up north then put down several other attempted revolts and expected that to bring Bavaria to heel as well. But it didn’t work. We in Bavaria are now under the control of three leaders: Gustav von Kahr, who is head of government and a staunch monarchist who would like to restore the Wittelsbachs to the throne; General Otto von Lossow, commander of the army in Bavaria; and Colonel Hans von Seisser, head of the state police. At first these three were strongly resistant to any attempts by Berlin to dictate what we must do, but they’ve begun to lose their nerve. And that brings us to the crisis we are now in. Any questions so far?”

  “Nein. You make things very clear.”

  “Good. Here is what has been happening in just the last few days. Fearing a major response from Berlin, Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser called in Adolf and the other Kampfbund leaders and told them that they would not be hurried into any kind of action and that they alone will decide when and how to act vis-a-vis Berlin. It won’t surprise you to learn that Adolf was infuriated with that and is determined to bring about change in our state government before Berlin moves in and stops everything.”

  “You mean a coup?” That she had not expected.

  “Well, not quite a coup.”

  “How do you have ‘not quite a coup’?”

  “Well, the Kampfbund decided that they will kidnap those three leaders and give them an ultimatum: stand up to Berlin and use their power and influence to openly break with the Republic—that would not be a coup—or step down and let those who have the courage to act take over the reins of government—and that would be a coup.”

  “With Adolf as leader.” Emilee didn’t state it as a question.

  “Yes, of course. So plans were laid to kidnap the three of them. They learned that on Memorial Day, which was last Sunday, there was to be a grand parade and all three leaders were to be on the reviewing stand. It was the perfect opportunity. Except for one small problem. When our soldiers arrived, they found the street blocked by the army.” He took a quick breath while he collected his thoughts for a moment. “The others tell me that Adolf vacillated between fury and despair when that happened. When would they get another opportunity to catch all three l
eaders together?

  “But to their amazement, the day before yesterday there was an announcement in the paper that several prominent business groups had invited Kahr to speak to their group at the Bürgerbraükeller on the southeastern outskirts of Munich. Then in small print it added that both Lossow and Seisser would also be attending.”

  “And when is that meeting supposed to be?” Emilee asked slowly, feeling a knot starting in the pit of her stomach.

  Hans was silent for a moment and then said, “It is being held on Thursday, the eighth of November, at eight o’clock in the evening.”

  “But that’s tonight!” Emilee cried in dismay.

  “Yes it is, Emilee. That’s why Adolf came to Graswang.”

  “And he wants you there?”

  “I command one company of the S.A. We have about five hundred of them coming total. They’ll seal off the tavern and keep others out while Adolf and the other Kampfbund leaders lay out the options to the three state leaders.”

  Emilee said nothing, and the silence stretched out for what seemed like a full minute. Finally, Hans said, very softly, “I have to go, Emilee.”

  “Of course you have to go. You absolutely, unquestionably have to go. He saved your family today, Hans.”

  “I know. But it’s not just that. I think that we may be making history tonight.”

  “I’m not fighting you on this, Hans,” Emilee burst out. “Did you think I would?”

  There was a long pause. “No. I was afraid that you would. But I knew that you wouldn’t.”

  “Thank you. It doesn’t matter if I like it or not. It doesn’t matter if I am frightened to death for you or not. Which I am, by the way. But it is the right thing to do.”

  Another long pause. “I love you, Emilee Fromme Eckhardt,” Hans murmured. “When are you coming home?”