GERMANY AFTER HINDENBURG
By H. POWYS GREENWOOD
THE innumerable fl: gs of the Third Reich were already at half-ma: when I crossed the frontier on the morning of August 2nd. So it had happened. The " Alter Herr " was gone and the whole nation mourned his loss. There can be no doubt regarding the depth and genuineness of the feeling which the great masses of this sorely tried people had for the monumental figure of the old Field-Marshal, who seemed to them not only to incorporate all that is best in the national tradition and character, but to represent in in his own person what a writer in the Berliner Tageblatt describes as the " national myth."
When I reached Berlin there were crowds assembled all along the Wilhelmstrasse outside the Chancellor's residence and the President's palace. Five days have passed, and from my window as I write I can see those crowds still there, men and women, of all classes and ages, many, perhaps the majority, bearing some token of mourning—a crepe armband, a black tie, a black dress. Loud-speakers in the street and outside the Ministry of Propaganda in the Wilhelmplatz relayed the mourning ceremonies in the Reichstag yesterday and at Tannenberg today. The crowds thickened and listened in almost complete silence for an hour ; workmen on the roofs of surrounding Government buildings undergoing structural alterations knocked off and came down into the square ; taxis stopped ; there was not a discordant note, no sign of anything but reverence and sorrow. What are those crowds waiting for now ? I suppose for the Fiihrer and Chancellor to return from Tannenberg. Tomorrow they will presumably have gone about their business.
The most moving experience I have had since my arrival was not the ceremony in the Reichstag, which, though simple and impressive, was somewhat marred for me at any rate by the rather cynical whispering atmosphere in the Press gallery and by the almost unrelieved parade of uniforms. It was the morning service at a little church in the country on Sunday morning. It was not arranged as a special requiem service, but the village, numbering about 500 inhabitants, treated it as such and filled the church to overflowing. The collective tendencies of the new Germany were well represented. There was the War Veterans' Asso- ciation to which almost all the older men belonged, in their black frock coats and top hats, wearing their medals and bearing their banner. There were the girls from the local Labour Service camp, twenty-five of them, headed by their leader. There was the Land Year group of Hitler youth, boys of 14 and 15 taken for the most part from the stricken industrial districts of Silesia with a view to seeing whether they are fitted for life on the land. The service was very musical—many hymns, sung well in unison without a choir, and few prayers. It centred round the sermon. I have rarely heard a better. The pastor, so my Nazi host told me, was an ordinary Christian, not a German Christian. Berlin, August 7th.
He took as his text the story of the widow's mite. Just as she had given all that she had, so the old President had served throughout his life with all his mind, soul and strength. The pastor did not shout : he did not gesticulate. He spoke simply and straightforwardly of the War, with its horrors and its saving grace, the spirit of sacrifice and comradeship. He spoke of the Field Marshal, called from retirement to save his country, of his victories, and of his simple piety and steadfastness in the hour of tribulation. He spoke of the longing of the world, and above all of the German people, for peace. He spoke of the new Leader of the Reich. And he ended by asking every man to follow the example of the President and serve with all his might—sick roll and ganz einsetzen.
I do not think the Press of the world, the innumerable special correspondents from all quarters, hastened to Germany merely in order to attend the brief ceremonies in Berlin and Tannenberg. Many expected sensational political developments ; few believed that the transfer of all power to Hitler would be made so swiftly and with so little fuss. The most significant of all the ceremonies which has taken place was perhaps the swearing-in of the Berlin Watch Company of the Reichswehr to Hitler at six o'clock on the day of the President's death. It was performed by the commanding General, von Witzleben, whose speech on a later occasion the same evening con- tained an unqualified acceptance of National Socialism regarded as the " soldierly German philosophy," born of the " inward German national community " without distinction of class, party or profession which first showed itself during the War. The next day the swearing-in of the Reichswehr was completed throughout the country. Whatever this or that General may think—and there is plenty of gossip going round Berlin on the subject—the Prussian tradition is one of obedience and loyalty. For men brought up in that tradition an oath of allegiance is not meaningless.
The Field-Marshal is gone and the ex-corporal is Leader and Chancellor and Commander-in-Chief, pos- sessed of powers incomparably greater than have been enjoyed by any German in history. No Rip van Winkle at the Reichstag would have guessed anything of the kind. The }Wirer entered with little or no pomp; he • was dressed in a plain brown uniform without badges ; he sat in the traditional Chancellor's seat among his Cabinet, while General Goring in his new Air Force uniform towered above in the Speaker's chair ; he gave the Nazi salute without any heel-clicking on rising ; and after the ceremony he mingled unostentatiously with others on the podium. How will this man bear the colossal responsibility which now falls on his shoulders alone ?
The last great link with the past has been broken. And the only figure in Germany who enjoyed universal respect outside the frontiers is gone. It is almost pathetic to see how the whole German Press has for days been filled with quotations from the obituary notices and coin ments of foreign newspapers and individuals, not to mention detailed reports of the innumerable telegrains and messages of condolence sent from abroad. There can be no doubt that despite all brave words the German people feel their isolation very deeply.
What do they feel about Hitler's appointment ? It is impossible to say. Perhaps they do not know—their mind has, at any rate, been made up for them. But they are to be consulted, to be asked for plebiscitary confirma- tion after the manner of Napoleon HI. There can be no doubt of the result ; both the moment and the issue are Well-chosen. The people are asked to vote for Hitler, not for the Nazi Party. The real interest will lie in the atmosphere of the plebiscite—about which I hope to write here in due course—and in the comparison with November, 1933. How much ground has been lost among the people ? That is, after all, what counts ; the educated classes, among whom there is an astonishing amount of treasonous talk considering the Terror, will fall into line. But to judge from the numberless Swastika flags with which the formerly " Marxist quarters of Berlin are still decorated, there has been no great change of opinion as yet among the masses.
[Mr.. Greenwood will write next week on the economic situation in Germany.]
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