The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  Hans almost shouted aloud for joy as the whole courtroom erupted. People stood up, shaking their fists at Lossow, calling him a liar, a traitor, and a pig. Did Lossow really believe the people were not fully aware of why these three had been in league with Adolf? They had already picked out their positions in the new government.

  On the stand, the judges seemed stunned by the ferocity of what was going on, but Adolf wasn’t. He was clearly pleased by the government leaders’ reaction. In fact, Hans guessed that he had deliberately goaded them into responding. Now, Hitler watched calmly until Lossow finally dropped back into his chair again, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. Adolf said nothing until the pandemonium quieted again. And when he did speak, it was without pity or mercy.

  “If I am guilty of treason, as General von Lossow says I am, then so is he, and so are his two companions, for I did nothing that they did not do. In spite of the esteemed ministers’ denials, it is a well-known fact that these three men once stood arm in arm with us. And now they duck and run? They would have us believe that they were only there as observers? I say, shame on them! Shame on them for thinking the people cannot see through their subterfuge.”

  Adolf turned back to the judges. “Well, I shall not stoop to such shameful tactics. I stand here today to say to the world, I did try to overthrow the government that we all hate. If that is treason, then I am guilty, and proud of it. But they are guilty too, but are ashamed of it. They do not have the courage to admit to their part in it. And for that, I say, everlasting shame on your heads!”

  Chapter Notes

  The trial of Hitler and the other principal participants of the Beer Hall Putsch in Munich lasted for over a month in February and March of 1924. Obviously, my treatment of the trial will be greatly condensed. For example, Hitler’s opening speech went on for nearly four hours, not just the few minutes suggested here.

  Several sources contain extensive quotes from Hitler’s speeches during the trial. Though I did have to construct some of what was said from summaries of the proceedings, much of the interchange between Hitler and the ministers is in their own words (see Rise and Fall, 76; see also “Biographical Time-Line of the Infamous Adolf Hitler: Chapter 15: Show Time, Soft Trial,” grwa.tripod.com/ht15.html/).

  March 9, 1924, 12:25 p.m.—Eckhardt Residence, Wellensteinstrasse 271, Milbertshofen District, Munich

  Paula Grohl took her foot off of the gas pedal and let the automobile roll to a stop in front of Emilee and Hans’s home. She turned off the ignition, pulled on the hand brake, and turned to the others in the car with her. “We’re here,” she announced, as if they hadn’t already seen that.

  Inga, who was in the front seat next to her sister, reached out and touched her arm. “Danke, Paula. Thank you so much for driving us to church once again. And please thank Wolfie. He is always so generous in the use of his car.”

  “I will,” Paula said, “but it would please him to hear you say it as well.”

  Anna, who was in the backseat with Emilee, turned around and looked out the rear window. “I don’t see Rudi,” she said. “Wasn’t he right behind us with the children?”

  Inga turned to look at her daughter. “Oh, he said he was going to take a short detour past the park and let the children see the ducks and geese. I thought you heard him.”

  “In this weather?”

  The rain was coming down in sheets now from a slate-grey sky.

  “No,” Inga replied. “He wasn’t getting them out. You can easily see the ducks from the parking lot. It’s only a few feet from the edge of the water.”

  “Knowing my husband,” Anna said, “who is as much of a kid as the kids themselves, don’t be surprised if they come home with their Sunday clothes sopping wet.”

  “That’s why they all love him so,” Emilee said. “The other night, when I was putting Alisa to bed, she asked if she could marry Rudi when she grows up.”

  Anna clapped her hands in delight. “Really? What did you tell her?”

  “I told her that you wouldn’t like that, because he was already married to you.”

  “And what did she say to that?”

  Emilee chuckled. “Her eyes got real big, and I could tell she was thinking really hard about it. Finally, she shook her head and said, ‘But they don’t live together.’”

  “Oh, my,” Anna exclaimed.

  “Well, think about it,” Emilee went on, speaking to Anna. “You came up to stay with me and help with the children over two months ago. And Rudi only comes up on weekends to see you.”

  “Yes,” Paula said. “It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Especially to a four-year-old. So what did you tell her?”

  “I told her that when she grows up she will find a man who she will love just as much as she loves Onkel Rudi. Or as much as she loves her own Vati. Or Onkel Wolfie. Since she loves all of them dearly, that finally satisfied her.”

  Paula was touched. “Alisa is such a deep thinker. She really analyzes things, doesn’t she?”

  As Emilee nodded, Anna asked, “Have you told Rudi that story?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Do it. He loves your two girls as much as he does our own children.”

  “All of the nieces and nephews,” Inga added. “He is a wonderful man, and a wonderful father.” She smiled at Anna. “And I’m so happy that my little Anna found him.”

  Paula reached down and picked up the umbrella sitting between her and Inga. “Well, the rain is not getting any lighter, and we have a dinner to cook. We’d better go in. Inga, you wait until I come around and get you or you’ll ruin your dress.”

  Wolfie met them at the door and took their umbrellas. As they hung their coats up he, turned to Emilee. “An adjutant at the infantry base called.”

  Emilee stiffened. “Is something wrong? Is it Hans?”

  “Hans is fine. But all this rain caused some minor flooding at the base, including at the barracks where the prisoners are being held. They had to move them into temporary quarters, where they are under closer guard. So they are canceling all visiting privileges today.”

  “No!” Emilee cried. “I didn’t get to see him last week either because they had taken him to the infirmary to examine his leg. Why they do that on a Sunday, I do not know.”

  “Because they can,” Wolfie observed. “It’s the army, remember. But they did let me talk to him on the phone for a few minutes.”

  Emilee whirled. “No!” she cried. “Can I call him?”

  Wolfie shook his head. “There’s no phone service in the temporary barracks. But Hans caught me up on things. Come sit down. He was quite excited about how things are going and wanted me to be sure to tell you.”

  Inga went over to him. “We need to get dinner started first, Wolfie. With this rain, Rudi wants to head back for Graswang by four while he still has some daylight.”

  Wolfie looked around. “Where is Rudi?”

  “He stopped at the park to let the kids see the ducks,” Anna said.

  “In this weather?”

  The ladies laughed as they headed for the kitchen.

  1:10 p.m.

  With the food cooking on the stove, they sent the children off to a back bedroom to play with Heinz-Albert, and the adults went into the living room. Ernst Fromme, Emilee’s older brother and Hans’s partner in the truck repair shop, was with them too.

  “Okay,” Wolfie said. “Let me tell you what Hans had to say first.” He pointed to the Sunday paper sitting on the lamp table beside him. “Then there’s quite a bit on the trial in this morning’s paper. I’d like to read you some of that too.”

  “Did he say anything about how his leg is doing?” Emilee asked.

  “Yes. He said that the cushion the doctors gave him is helping, especially when the trial goes on for several hours without a break. He said to tell you that he’s doing fine.”
>
  “Fine,” Emilee snorted. “That’s his answer to everything. How’s his leg? Fine. How is the cell where they keep him? Fine. What about the food they’re giving him? Fine. What happens if he gets life imprisonment? ‘I’ll be fine.’ Sometimes I want to grab him and shake him.”

  Ernst gave her a sardonic grin. “I’ve always thought fine was such a fine word.”

  Emilee just shook her head. “Men!” Then she turned back to Wolfie. “What else did he say?”

  “Well, they didn’t give him his full five minutes of phone time. About halfway into the call they started yelling that he had to come with them right now. But he did tell me that they had received some really good news. They’re not going to deport Hitler.”

  “What?” Anna exclaimed. “Deport him? Why would they?”

  “Deport him where?” Inga asked.

  “To Austria. That’s where he was born.”

  “But why?” Rudi asked again.

  Wolfie reached over and picked up the top section of the newspaper. “I think the Munich Post answers that for us.” He opened it up to the second page, found the place, and began to read aloud. “‘Minister of the Interior Seeks Deportation of Beer Hall Putsch Leader.’”

  “The Minister of the Interior?” Paula burst out. “Isn’t he your boss?”

  “Technically, yes. The Public Works Department is part of the Ministry of the Interior, but I don’t work with him directly. I would recognize him if I saw him on the street, but only because we have pictures of him at the office. Okay, now listen to this.

  “‘A late-night, closed-door meeting of the Bavarian State Minister’s Council was held in the parliament building on Thursday last. No representatives of the press were permitted to attend, and all who were in attendance were forbidden to speak about it. However, this writer was able to obtain a detailed report of what went on in the meeting from a confidential source.

  “‘The emergency meeting was called to discuss how to deal with the growing resentment and negative press aimed at the government due to developments in the Beer Hall Putsch trial, which has been going on since February twenty-sixth. Though there are eleven defendants on trial, including the respected General Erich Ludendorff, the discussion revolved around Herr Adolf Hitler.’”

  Lowering the paper, Wolfie looked around the room. “Isn’t that interesting? For all his fame and stature, Ludendorff gets only a brief mention, but it’s Hitler they are really worried about.”

  “Interesting,” Rudi agreed, “but not surprising.”

  Wolfie nodded and continued. “‘Hitler has very cleverly turned the trial into an indictment of the three ministers who led the government at the time of the attempted coup. Two of those ministers have already resigned under the pressure, and many are predicting that the head of the national police will soon follow. The ministers all agreed that Presiding Justice Neithardt is not maintaining any balance in the trial, and Hitler grows in popularity every day.’”

  “Which is wonderful,” Emilee said.

  “Perhaps, but it’s drawing a lot of criticism, too,” Wolfie said. “Let me read from the front page.” He turned to it, lifted the paper, and went on. “‘Herr Schweyer, Minister of the Interior, proposed what he termed ‘an elegantly simple’ solution to a thorny problem. He said that the longer the trial goes on, the more it gives Hitler a podium to speak to the German people and turn them against the government. He then noted that Hitler is not a German citizen but was born in Austria and therefore is a foreign national. Therefore, a simple solution is to immediately deport Herr Hitler to Austria and completely take him out of the equation. After a brief but vigorous discussion, the Council voted unanimously in favor of the proposal.’”

  “But I thought you said they’re not going to deport him,” Anna commented.

  “Hold on, the article explains it.” Wolfie continued reading. “‘The proposal was not well received by Justice Neithardt, but he did agree to confer with the other judges on the matter. After a brief recess, Judge Neithardt returned and read a prepared statement to the court, as follows: “After carefully reviewing the motion to deport Herr Adolf Hitler to his native land of Austria, the court has decided that while it is true that Herr Hitler is a German-Austrian, he has lived as a German citizen for many years. In the opinion of the court, the meaning and intention of the terms of section nine, paragraph two, of the Law for the Protection of the Republic cannot apply to a man who thinks and feels as German as Hitler does. This man voluntarily served for four and a half years in the German Army during the war. He attained high military honors through outstanding bravery in the face of the enemy, twice being awarded the Iron Cross. He was wounded, suffered other damages to his health, and continued his service in the Army District Command here in Munich after the war. He has lived here as a citizen of Bavaria since that time. Therefore, the motion to deport Herr Hitler is denied.”’”

  Lowering the paper, Wolfie looked around. “I can only imagine how relieved Hitler must be with that decision. He could have lost everything he has worked for with the stroke of a pen.”

  Emilee sat back, nodding solemnly. “Thank heavens Judge Neithardt had the courage to stand against the Council of Ministers. We are fortunate to have him in charge of the trial.”

  “I agree,” Wolfie said, “but there are many who do not. There is a growing clamor among the journalists that the Minister of Justice and the presiding judge in the court are so prejudiced in favor of Hitler and the National Socialists that the trial is a sham and a disgrace to the government of Bavaria.”

  He opened the paper so he could look at an inside page again. “Here is what one columnist has to say: ‘I cannot think about this monstrous trial without deep melancholy and bitterness. What is going on here reminds me of a circus. This is a court that time after time gives the accused the opportunity to make lengthy propaganda speeches, cross-examine witnesses for the prosecution, interrupt testimony, and harangue the court at length.

  “‘I was present when Justice Neithardt publicly ridiculed one of the highest officials in the Weimar government for criticizing Hitler. He also banished a political cartoonist from the courtroom because he had once drawn a caricature of Hitler. This is not a courtroom where justice is served. It is nothing but a grand political carnival!’”

  “Wow,” Ernst said. “That’s pretty harsh.”

  “You think that’s harsh? Here’s what the London Times correspondent wrote: ‘The trial going on in Munich for defendants accused of high treason proves that a plot against the Constitution of the Reich is not considered a serious crime in Bavaria.’”

  Wolfie closed the paper and tossed it back on the table. Emilee’s face was filled with anxiety. “But this is good for us, right?”

  “It is,” Wolfie said, “but. . . .” He finally shrugged it off.

  “But what, Wolfie?” Inga asked.

  “If the prejudice and bias is too blatant and the chief judge is too lenient, it could lead to a mistrial. If that happened, it wouldn’t surprise me if they chose a new venue, and that venue would be Berlin. And that would not be good.”

  Emilee’s hand shot up to her mouth. “They wouldn’t do that, surely.”

  Paula gave her husband a stern look. “It is better not to speculate right now.”

  Rudi, seeing the alarm on Emilee’s face, spoke up too. “I don’t think the people of Bavaria would stand for that.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Anna stood up and faced the others. “Enough of this gloomy talk. Before we call the kids in for dinner, Rudi and I have an announcement.” She motioned to him, and Rudi came up and joined her. She was blushing lightly now. “Actually, three announcements.”

  Inga’s face lit up. “Anna? Was ist das? Is it what I hope it is?”

  “Ja, ja, Mama. If all goes well, we hope to present you with your tenth grandchild in September. Maybe a little brother for Rudi
Jr.”

  Instantly, Paula, Emilee, and Inga were up and to her. Inga threw her arms around her daughter. “Oh, Anna. That is such wonderful news.” Emilee and Paula immediately began peppering her with questions.

  Finally, they stepped back and Emilee looked at Anna. “That is wonderful news! It will be hard to top that. What else?”

  Anna motioned for them to sit down again, which they did, and then she reached across and took her husband’s hand. “Rudi, tell Mama what we have decided.”

  Rudi took a deep breath, looking directly at Inga. “Mama Eckhardt, first I want to say how grateful I am to you for taking me into your family as if I were one of your own sons.”

  “You are one of my own sons,” Inga replied.

  “Danke. And for Hans to make Anna and me part owners of the dairy farm, too—how can I ever thank you and Papa Eckhardt and Hans for doing that when I was so new to the family and not a farmer in any way?”

  “You must thank Hans for that,” Inga said gravely. “His renouncing his claim to the farm caught us all by surprise.”

  “I have thanked him, and I shall do so again,” Rudi replied. “But now, I. . . . Well, Anna and I have. . . .” He was looking out the window now and his hands were fidgeting with his belt buckle.

  “Just tell them, Rudi,” Anna said, nudging him with her elbow.

  “Let me guess,” Inga cut in before Rudi could speak. “You would like to leave the farm.”

  Rudi was taken aback.

  “Do you think I don’t notice?” Inga asked. “I know you and Anna have liked the farm and being with the family. But you have never loved it like Karl and Klaus do. Am I right?”

  There was a huge release of breath as Rudi nodded gratefully. “Yes, Mama Eckhardt. After talking about it for several months now, Anna and I have decided to move to Munich and start work here.”