Airlift
Russian ‘milk snatchers’ formed the pretext for the airlift. The Russians were supposed to provide food for the entire population of Berlin, although the Western Allies donated the flour. To this end the Russians had 7,000 cows in suburban farms. In the early summer of 1948 they cut off the milk. Berliners were obliged to go to the east in lorries to collect it. The American medical officer reported to Howley: ‘Unless we get fresh milk, six thousand babies in our sector will be dead by Monday.’ Three years before, the Anglo-Americans had had fewer scruples about infant mortality. Howley saw Russian uncooperativeness as an attempt to intimidate the Americans and ordered in 200 tons of condensed milk and another 150 tons of powdered milk. Howley proudly reported that not one baby died in his sector.34
Clay thought he might keep his meagre garrison alive, but not the Germans. The Soviet attempt to prevent the Western Allies from reaching their sectors of the city provoked a discussion between Clay and Robertson on the legitimate response. The British decided they would not shoot if the Americans did not. ‘I believe this [the Russian move] is bluff,’ wrote Clay, ‘but do not wish to bluff back as British may be doing unless we mean it [sic].’35 The American secretary of the army, General Kenneth Royall, thought the president should send Stalin a note. He was not certain how serious the situation had become. Clay replied, ‘I do not believe this means war but any failure to meet this squarely will cause great trouble.’ He added that he would rather go to Siberia than abandon Berlin. The Soviets were now challenging the Western Allies’ right to be in Berlin in the first place. Clay cited the EAC agreement made during the war, by which the German capital would be administered by the three powers. Added to this there was the oral agreement with Zhukov of 5 June 1945 and ‘three years of application’. The right to provision the city and its Western garrisons was governed by mostly tacit or oral agreements.36
Clay was not prepared to put up with hair-splitting: ‘Legalistic argument no longer has meaning . . . our reply will not be misunderstood by 42 million Germans and perhaps 200 million West Europeans. We must say, we think, as our letter does, “this far you may go and no further.” There is no middle ground which is not appeasement.’37 Clay continued to see the idea of the Russians inspecting trains as the thin end of the wedge: the ‘integrity of our trains is a part of our sovereignty’. It was a ‘symbol of our position in Germany and in Europe’. When the Anglo-Americans put the Russian ‘bluff’ to the test the Soviet authorities would not let them cross the SBZ without prior inspection. The managers of the trains all refused bar one American, who panicked and let the Russians on board. The decision was made to switch to aircraft.38
That was also not without difficulties at first. On 5 April a Soviet Yak fighter dived under a scheduled British BEA Vickers Viking aircraft as it came into land at Gatow. As it rose it took off the starboard wing of the Viking. Both planes crashed, killing the fifteen British and American passengers and crew together with the pilot of the Yak. Robertson called for fighter protection for the transports and immediately went to see Sokolovsky in protest. The Russian commander was adamant that the pilot had had no orders from him to buzz the British plane. He would not direct the Soviet air force to molest flights in the corridor. Robertson was satisfied with his answer and called off the escort. Later the Russians showed a similar docility when there were complaints about the positioning of a barrage balloon. No one wanted to take responsibility for war.39
Clay was not going to budge. There was little or no freight for the time being, as it required permission from the Russians, ‘which I will not request’. The British had their own aircraft, but the French had ‘no air transport worthy of the name’ even if, for the time being, they were happy to keep their small force in Berlin. Clay was still stubbornly determined: ‘We are convinced that our remaining in Berlin is essential to our prestige in Germany and Europe. Whether for good or bad, it has become a symbol of American intent.’40
The balloon went up again when the Russians walked out of the Kommandatura on 17 June, Howley was relieved. They claimed that there was an urgent need to repair the roads near Magdeburg and the bridges over the Elbe, which therefore had to be closed. On 22 June the price of coffee had risen to RM3,000, bread was at 200 and a single Chesterfield was 65.41 On the 24th the motorway was blocked between Berlin and Helmstedt.42 Only military convoys were allowed to pass. They also cut off supplies of gas and electricity to the Western sectors of the city. Ruth Friedrich noted in her diary that an ‘iron curtain’ had abruptly fallen between Helmstadt and Marienborn.43 ‘We poor little Berlin mice!’ They had spent all their money, and the Russians were doing their best to prevent the new currency from crossing their zone. ‘In the end the entirety of Berlin had harmed their stomachs in the prospect of currency reform.’44 The new currency was issued in the Western zones on 25 June at 7.00 a.m. That same day the Russians stopped the supply of brown coal to the city. From 7 July coal would also have to be brought in by air. ‘I do not expect armed conflict,’ wrote Clay; the ‘principal danger is from Russian-planned communist groups out looking for trouble’. For such a propagandist, he was surprisingly worried about the behaviour of the Berliners: ‘Perhaps the greatest danger comes from the amazing resistance of the Berlin population. This is driving the Soviet administration and the SED to further extreme measures.’45
‘June 24 1948’, wrote Howley grandiloquently, ‘is one of the most infamous dates in the history of civilisation. The Russians tried to murder an entire city to gain a political advantage.’46 There were 2,250,000 Germans in the Western sectors, and just 6,500 soldiers to protect them. The Russians had 18,000 men in their sector and another 300,000 stationed in their zone.47 In order to stress the weakness of the Western powers the Russians began military manoeuvres. Bevin, who (as opposed to Attlee) was running the show in London, chipped in by inviting the Americans to station B-29 bombers in Britain. It was hoped that this gesture would concentrate the Russians’ minds, even if there was no provision for their carrying nuclear weapons. Britain was rapidly becoming a client nation of the United States.48
The Berlin airlift began on 26 June. The idea came from the British. Air Commodore Reginald Waite proposed a scheme to supply the civilians as well as the garrisons. He and Robertson took the scheme to Clay, who up until then had preferred the idea of a convoy.49 General John Cannon was responsible for the name ‘Operation Vittles’. Ruth Friedrich noted the change: ‘The skies are buzzing as they did during the Blitz. For the time being the American military authorities have increased air traffic to Berlin to a maximum.’50 The density was to increase. At first the excuse was the need to provision the American and other Allied garrisons, then Clay made it clear that the Soviets would not be allowed to starve the Berliners in the Western sectors. For eleven months American C-47s (‘Gooney Birds’, which the Berliners called ‘Rosinenbomber’ or raisin bombers) and C-54s, as well as British cargo planes, under the command of the American Major-General Tunner and the Briton Air Marshal Williams flew in 4,000 tons of food daily. British Sunderland flying boats landed on the Havel, bringing much needed salt from Hamburg. At the height of Operation Vittles, 13,000 tons of food was delivered in twenty-four hours.
British planes left Frassberg for Gatow, while the Americans flew from Wiesbaden to Tempelhof. The Americans operated two-thirds of the flights, the British the rest. West Berlin was the prize won for the new, Allied-backed West German state.51 Clay wanted to know if American service families should be flown to safety. Truman advised against it, saying that it would have a bad ‘psychological effect’. Clay agreed to make ‘emergency arrangements for essential supplies’.52 The political nature of the blockade was swiftly understood by Truman. It was fully in keeping with his doctrine: this far but no further. He told Clay to make the blockade-busting formal. The humanitarian aspect was important, but so was access to the former capital. On 26 June Truman directed that the airlift be put on a full-scale organised basis. Every available a
ircraft was to be used.53 The same day the Russians introduced Order 111 which created their own currency. This took the form of coupons attached to existing banknotes. The coupons were stuck on with glue made from the ubiquitous potato. On the fourth exchange it fell off. The Berliners were quick to dub them Tapetenmark or wallpaper money. The new notes were ready on 26 July.
The SBZ authorities were credited with saying they were going to ‘Dry out the Western Sector as we would tie a tourniquet around a wart.’54 On 26 June it was reported that the Americans could provision the city for another thirty days. News was transmitted by the RIAS (Radio in American Sector) van. Ruth Friedrich remarked on the ‘frustration of being at the centre of the world stage and yet only [having] the chance to be informed of this between twelve midnight and two o’clock in the morning’. Meanwhile an aircraft flew over her head every eight minutes. 55
On 28 June American soldiers arrested Sokolovsky - allegedly by mistake - for speeding in their sector. He identified himself, but they still held him for an hour. Sokolovsky told Robertson that the blockade was about the currency, and he could draw his own conclusions. The Russian was unconvinced by the game his countrymen were playing in Berlin. Rumours flew this way and that. Clay was later told that the Russians intended to put up barrage balloons to impede landing.56 When the first proper banknotes were issued in the east, the SBZ further exacerbated the plight of the westerners by making them go deep into their sector to convert their old coupons. The dollar was now worth DM28, and a flight to the West cost $28. No one had DM784. Anyone who might be able to scrape together such a princely sum had left. Even Ruth Friedrich, who had endured the worst of it, now thought it was time to go.
Clay’s airlift was as much a propaganda success as the Soviet blockade was an own goal. In West Berlin and Western Germany the wholly negative picture of Soviet aims never disappeared. The crisis also accelerated the polarisation of the two sides. Otto Grotewohl addressed the SED Central Committee on 30 June to affirm his clear commitment to an ‘Eastern orientation’, even if this did not change the Party’s policy on unity.57 Currency anarchy continued. The Eastern ‘coupon mark’ was now worth ten Reichsmarks. It could also be used in the Western sectors, but not for everything. A money market grew up around the Zoo Station. Certain currencies were used for different goods: matches were paid for with Western money; onions half and half; raisins Western; sugar Eastern. You bought a newspaper with Eastern money, but the printing had to be paid for with Western currency.58
The Western authorities prevented the new currency from reaching Berlin, but the SBZ did not call off the blockade. ‘Technical problems’ had required the closing of land routes and waterways to Berlin. As Lucius Clay put it, ‘the technical difficulties would last until the Western Powers buried their plans for a West German government’.59 On 2 July the Russians cut off the water to the Western sectors, claiming the need to repair the locks. Howley pointed out that water was needed to make bread, although once again he was unclear about how much.60
A great disappointment to the Berliners was the craven behaviour of Wilhelm Furtwängler, who cancelled his appearance with the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra on 7 July 1948. The conductor was due to direct the orchestra in Potsdam with American soloists. He evidently thought it would be too risky, even though the Americans had agreed to lay on the transport. The Berliners had to be satisfied with Leopold Ludwig.61 As a result of the airlift, the Russian-occupied Radio Station could no longer be used. Eventually the Soviet authorities gave up their island in the British Sector and built themselves a new station in Adlershorst in their own fief. The next day the blockade claimed its first life when an American Dakota crashed. The second crash occurred two weeks later on the 25th when a C-47 ploughed into a house in Friedenau killing the crew.62
On 14 July the Russians dropped all pretence about ‘technical difficulties’. 63 A week later a plane was landing every three minutes, but the situation was dire, and in November and December the operation was often hampered by fog, even if the weather miraculously improved when the food situation was at its worst. Radar allowed some planes to land. The lack of landing space had meant that the French airstrip at Tegel was being rapidly made ready for aircraft. As many as 17,000 men were working on the runway, on the promise of a hot meal every day. Berliners received at best a couple of hours’ electricity at day, and often had to wait until the middle of the night to cook. The short-lived burst of electric light brought the same sort of euphoria as a glass of wine. The lucky ones lived in an Allied-occupied building. They had power and light.64
On 23 July Clay reported to Truman in the White House. It was not going to be a repeat of Potsdam. Truman was not to be bamboozled. He returned to the idea of supplying the city by armed convoys. Clay was not so keen, but he did not think the Russians were prepared to go to war.65 In America voices were raised calling for a break with the Russians. ‘These people did not understand that our choice was only between negotiations and war,’ Truman said. ‘There was no third way.’66 The real reason for the blockade must have become obvious to all and sundry on 27 July when the Conference of Foreign Ministers in London decided that they had agreed on the creation of a West German state. All that was needed now was a ‘basic law’ to serve as a constitution. The basic law (Grundgesetz) would be ratified by the provincial assemblies or Landtage. There would be no vote in the east, as the ministers had decided the people were not free to express their opinions and might vote against. Clay concluded once again that the Germans needed the responsibility of self-government. Germany was to have its own administration before the peace treaty. This little bombshell made the Western Allies reconsider evacuating some Berliners who might otherwise have been abducted.67
The West had finally had enough of the Soviet-controlled Markgraf Police and on 26 July organised their own force under Johannes Stumm, Markgraf’s former deputy. Three-quarters of the Markgraf Police promptly deserted to the Stumm. When on 29 July the Magistrat or town council tried to meet at the Red Rathaus they were met by SED members chanting, ‘We want just one currency!’ Members of the council were intimidated and beaten up, and Western policemen were carried off by SED thugs. One who was manhandled was Jeanette Wolff, a Jewess who had survived two concentration camps. She was called a ‘Judensau’ ( Jewish pig) in the Rathaus carpark. ‘I have only one life to lose, and this life belongs to freedom,’ she exclaimed. The communist stooges stormed the council chamber. The future author of Berlin’s constitution, Otto Suhr, refused to begin the session until they left. Louise Schröder, standing in for Reuter, told the communists to be reasonable, and to go home and listen to the session on the radio. The SED men withdrew. ‘The storming of the Bastille’ was over.68
Berlin was sealed off by road, rail and water. Contingency plans were made to withdraw the Allied armies to the Rhine. On 2 August Stalin said he would lift the blockade if both Eastern and Western marks were allowed to circulate freely throughout Berlin. It was also the ‘insistent wish’ of the Soviet government that the Allies ‘postpone the next stages planned in the integration of the Western Zones’. The Russians admitted that the West was in Berlin ‘on sufferance’, but would not concede that it was ‘there by right’.69 The next day Clay said he was prepared to compromise on the currency issue. Molotov wanted more: on 10 August he demanded control of exports from the Western sectors. Clay told Washington to reject this request.70 In the meantime the Markgraf police were being increasingly tough on people seeking Western currency. On the 12th they arrested 320 on the Potsdamer Platz. On the 24th Stalin changed his mind, and once again requested the withdrawal of the currency, but the West said no: it had been a success. That same day there was a mid-air collision between two C-47s. Both crews perished.71
The four military governors met on 1 September. Sokolovsky was concerned that the air transports might be used to flood Berlin with new Deutsche Marks. Three days later the Russian commander came clean: the restrictions were the result of the London Conference
and were aimed at the splitting of eastern and west Germany’.72 Berliners were getting by with dried potatoes and other vegetables and tinned meat. The suicide rate rose again. There were now around seven a day. Sokolovsky also announced that the Soviet Union would start air-force manoeuvres over Berlin on the 6th. This was, he said, normal practice for this time of the year. Clay noted in his report to Washington, ‘This is amusing since in the four summers we have been in Berlin we have never heard of these manoeuvres previously.’ Robertson expressed the hope that the Soviet manoeuvres would not interfere with the air corridor. Sokolovsky replied, ‘Certainly.’ Clay was not certain whether that meant ‘Certainly yes’ or ‘Certainly no’.73
On 6 September there was an attempted coup d’état at the Stadthaus. Clay naturally had a report of the new outrage:Meanwhile their [that is, the Soviets’] tactics in Berlin are getting rough. Yesterday a communist mob prevented City Assembly from meeting. It manhandled three American reporters at the scene. Today a well-organised mob was on hand again. The deputy mayor foolishly took forty-odd plain clothes men from western sectors to keep order. Uniformed police of the Soviet sector under direct orders of Soviet officer started to arrest them. They rushed into offices of three western liaison representatives where some are still at siege. However, Soviet sector police broke into our office and led about twenty of the poor devils off to death or worse.
After the Reich Page 71
