In 1929, a financial disaster struck the world’s economy that sent international investment and trade spiraling downward. In Germany, where business had already fallen into a recession in 1928, the international collapse accelerated a precipitous economic decline, which led to steadily rising levels of unemployment.
During the years of the Great Depression, my family fared better than many other Germans, but the early 1930s were still difficult years for us. Being a child, I never appreciated the severity of the problem and life seemed to go on pretty much normally for me. I still had enough to eat, slept with a roof over my head, and attended school. The economic hardship was more pronounced in the cities than in farming communities, though my parents experienced daily stress as they struggled to pay our bills and keep the farm on a sound financial footing.
When my family could not pay our creditors on time, officers from the local court would come to our home. These visits were a humiliating experience, particularly for my father. My siblings and I were not allowed in the room as the officers affixed Kuckucks (government repossession stickers) on two or three pieces of our best furniture like wardrobes and desks.
Eventually, my father would manage to sell enough livestock or agricultural produce to permit us to pay off our 300 to 1,000 Marks of debt and eliminate the Kuckuck. However, any improvement was temporary. My father’s fine oak desk received a Kuckuck two or three times as we went in and out of debt.
Even in these difficult circumstances, the six farms in Püggen managed to continue operating and providing work for the local laborers. While many farmers around Germany had to sell off part or all of their land because they could not pay their bills or meet their mortgages, my family fortunately avoided having to resort to such desperate measures.
Still, my father sometimes had to stretch out payment for fertilizers, new farm equipment, and repairs to worn out farm machinery, and had to compensate our hired labor with production from our farm rather than cash. Our farm provided us with adequate food, but there was little spare money, even for basic items like new clothes or the replacement of the soles on our shoes.
Aunt Hedwig, a distant relative who lived with us, would stitch labels from various apparel manufacturers into the clothes she sewed for my siblings and me. It was a very thoughtful effort to fool us into thinking that the clothes were purchased from a store, even if we saw through the deception. We probably would have liked to have more and newer outfits than the refurbished ones we ordinarily wore, but realized that our family could not afford such items.
Though it was hard to find the money for such necessities, my father still occasionally treated himself to small luxuries like a mug of beer or the cigars that he loved. On one occasion, he sent me to purchase a stein of beer for him at Püggen’s pub just down the street from our house. Taking the opportunity to taste beer for the first time, I started sipping from his mug on the five-minute walk back home. By the time it reached my father’s hands, a half an inch or more was somehow missing from the top. Growing angry with me, he snapped, “You spilled it again Wilhelm!” Even children never completely escape the stress when times are hard for a family.
Coming when Germany was less than a decade from the economic struggles during and after the Great War, the Depression years tended to reinforce the nation’s conservative social values and increase popular discontent with the post-war state of affairs. Conversations about the recent war itself were frequent and generated strong emotions.
Like most other citizens, I believed that the Great War arose from the refusal of the existing powers—Great Britain, France, and Russia—to accommodate Germany’s rising economic and military strength and to accept our nation’s rightful place as a leading state in the world. Despite the loss of many sons and fathers in the conflict, there was a sense of pride that Germany had defeated Russia and successfully resisted the combined military forces of much of the rest of the world for more than four years of war.
Though Germany agreed to an armistice in late 1918, most Germans did not accept that the nation had truly been defeated, since the German Army still existed as a coherent military force and occupied part of France as well as wide territories in the East. Instead many, if not most, Germans believed it was the revolutionary actions of left-wing Communists and socialists on the home front that had undermined the army’s morale and ultimately compelled the nation to seek a negotiated settlement.
Discussions of the Great War inevitably led to bitter denunciations of the unexpectedly harsh Treaty of Versailles that the Allies subsequently forced on Germany in 1919. Unjustly holding Germany guilty for starting the war, the Treaty inflicted harsh financial reparations, required the surrender of German territory and colonial possessions, and imposed a 100,000-man limit on the German military. Unsurprisingly, many Germans felt a lingering sense of grievance toward France and Great Britain for the country’s difficult conditions.
With my interest in military history, I often spent time talking with local veterans in Püggen and neighboring villages. They invited me along to the meetings of the Stahlhelm (Steel Helmet), a large rightwing paramilitary organization comprised of former soldiers who served in the Great War. Wearing their old uniforms and bearing their military rifles, these veterans assembled together a couple of times a year for large outdoor gatherings in various places across Germany.
Beyond reminiscing about the war, delivering patriotic speeches, eating bratwurst, drinking beer, and leading the crowd in traditional German songs, the group also offered weapons exhibitions to the crowds. More importantly to me, they also gave boys my age a chance to shoot their Mauser rifles on firing ranges. It was a lot of fun, even if the rifle’s recoil would leave my shoulder sore for days.
Although possessing limited knowledge of political matters at that age, I agreed with what I understood of the patriotic nationalism of the Stahlhelm veterans. Their hostility toward the limits placed on the strength of the Reichswehr (pre-war German armed forces) and other unjust aspects of the Versailles Treaty seemed justified. Although many local Stahlhelm members were hostile to the extreme chauvinism and racial nationalism of the National Socialist German Workers (Nazi) Party, the national Stahlhelm organization did at times cooperate with other nationalist groups, including the Nazis.
While the Nazis shared common opposition to Germany’s postwar political order and certain nationalistic views with groups like the Stahlhelm, they would not tolerate any competing groups. After coming to power, they would absorb the Stahlhelm into the Nazi SA, or Sturmabteilungen, their brown-uniformed party paramilitary organization.
Among farm owners in our community, there was strong support for the ultraconservative German National People’s Party. My parents backed it and my grandfather sometimes attended its local party meetings. In contrast, they viewed the Nazi Party as a fringe group filled with crude and dangerous extremists who were only marginally better than the Communist radicals. At the same time, my parents did not consider national politics very important to their lives and were primarily concerned with local issues.
Despite widespread discontent with the political and economic conditions of the early 1930s, I believe most Germans respected the existing government led by President Paul von Hindenburg, a hero of the Great War. They were not looking to eliminate the post-war republic instituted at Weimar in 1919.
Even if there may not have been broad support for a return to the prewar political system, many Germans did feel a certain nostalgia for the better times the nation enjoyed under the old Kaiser (Emperor). Many times, we sang the popular drinking tune, “Wir wollen unsern Kaiser Wilhelm wieder-haben!” (“We want to see our Emperor Wilhelm back!”) Yet, the more the economic crisis deepened, the more the mainstream political parties lost out to extremist organizations like the Nazi and Communist parties.
Various political parties visited even small communities like ours to pass out leaflets and plaster their campaign posters, but the Nazi Party’s SA was by far the most visible. The Nazis were also the most effective in using party propaganda and the media to spread their nationalist and demagogic message. Fanning popular resentment over the Versailles Treaty, the Great Depression, and the ineffectiveness of Germany’s existing political institutions, their leader, Adolf Hitler, pledged to restore Germany to greatness and face down all its enemies at home and abroad. His promises to lift the nation out of crisis were particularly successful in winning him support among less educated, working class laborers.
Yet, uneasy as many educated Germans felt about the Nazis, their left-wing counterparts, the Communists, appeared even worse. Many viewed the Nazi Party as the strongest alternative to the Communist Party, fearing that the Communists might impose the same repressive political and economic system that existed in the Soviet Union. Even though my family strongly disliked the Nazis as a party, we did favor their opposition to Communism and Versailles and their calls for Germany to restore its economic and military power.
In the election of November 1932, the Nazis actually lost seats in the Reichstag (German parliament), but they did receive more votes than any other party. As a result, after political maneuvering, President Hindenburg named Hitler to be the new chancellor. Few Germans even remotely imagined the future consequences of placing Hitler and the Nazis in charge of Germany.
Upon gaining control of the government, Hitler soon began to mobilize the six million unemployed for projects like the building of the Autobahn (highway) system. From the perspective of an unemployed man without the means to support his family, it was natural to support a government that brought work and good wages.
Furthermore, the Nazis introduced other programs designed to win popular support for the party and its policies. For example, the regime offered workers who joined the government’s official labor union the chance to take discounted vacation cruises abroad, while rewarding highly performing workers with completely free cruises. Because of the program’s success, the government’s union paid for the construction of purpose-built cruise ships like the Wilhelm Gustloff to meet the demand. The Nazis’ program to provide families living in large cities with the opportunity to send their children to specially built camps in the countryside was also highly popular.
On March 16, 1935, Hitler unilaterally scrapped the Treaty of Versailles and ordered Germany’s rearmament. In addition to creating the Luftwaffe (German air force), the Nazi government also commenced the rebuilding of the Wehrmacht, which previously had been limited to 100,000 troops under the Treaty of Versailles. The rising economy and renewal of Germany’s military power helped build popular support for the Nazis and give Germans a growing sense of national confidence.
My family supported these measures and benefited from the greatly improved business climate that permitted us to sell more of our farm products at a better price. Yet, whatever agreement we may have had with specific policies, we still remained opposed to the Nazi Party. Perhaps what most affected our lives was the gradual but continual increase in the dictatorial character of the government as it inexorably transformed Germany into a totalitarian state.
When a fire at the Reichstag in February 1933 was blamed on the Communists, we supported a crackdown against them. Like most Germans, we were pleased that the government seemed to be restoring a sense of social discipline and political order to society. However, Hitler used this incident to claim emergency powers and eliminate all open political opposition. Within a short period of time, the Nazis began issuing more and more orders about what we must do, and imposing more and more restrictions on what we were permitted to do.
Although my parents and my grandfather were not politically inclined, they perhaps possessed a more independent mindset and more questioning attitude than many other Germans. They strongly opposed the huge expansion of government control over our lives and felt a deep sense of mistrust for the regime as well as unease about the future.
Though the Nazis came to power when I was only twelve years old, I began to follow politics very closely and develop my own opinions at this time. It seemed to me that the overall situation in Germany was improving under the Nazis, but I also possessed mixed feelings about Hitler and doubts about where he was leading the country.
In 1934, a guest Lutheran pastor visited our church in Püggen. Sitting in our pew, we were shocked when he began to preach Nazi ideology from the pulpit, his loud voice booming through our little chapel. Pounding on the lectern, his sermon proclaimed that God had blessed Germany by bringing Hitler and the Nazis to us. Claiming that everything that the Nazis were doing was good for Germany, he told us that we must follow them. My family shook our heads in stunned disbelief at the government’s sacrilegious misuse of religion in an attempt to justify its own authority.
The sense of political repression may have been more pronounced in the larger cities, but it would be an exaggeration to say that there was a climate of fear in our rural community. Although the Nazis increasingly restricted the freedom to express dissenting views in public, we still openly discussed politics inside our families and among close friends. Still, I grew increasingly cautious about sharing my opinions if I was uncertain of someone else’s political views, even if I knew them fairly well.
It was understood that we risked denunciation to the police or the party if we expressed anti-Nazi views around the wrong people. Once the authorities identified you as holding anti-Nazi sentiments, they would make it difficult for you to keep your job or operate your business. They would isolate you within your community. If you openly opposed the regime and resisted these lesser pressures, you would almost certainly face arrest and imprisonment. Under a dictatorship, intimidation and fear are enough to force most people to keep their mouths shut.
Only a small group of top Nazi leaders dominated government policymaking, but the Nazi Party began to recruit many more people into its ranks as the regime increased its control over German society. Probably half of the new members joined for pragmatic reasons like maintaining their job or gaining advancement, while the other half joined out of ideological conviction. Of course, many people sought membership in the Nazi Party for a combination of reasons.
In our extended family, one of my uncles in the nearby village of Hohendolsleben became a Nazi Party official. He wanted to improve his situation as a farmer, but also believed in the Nazi ideology. My parents were very careful to avoid any discussion of politics when our families spent time together, but strongly disagreed with his views. Their son later volunteered for the SS and was killed at the age of 18 during the first week of fighting in France.
Although the higher echelons of the party included a number of educated people who believed in the Nazi ideology, the Nazis relied primarily on supporters among the less educated working class to fill its ranks. My family and most other farm owners in Püggen found it very difficult to accept the authority of these kinds of people when they became Nazi officials.
After putting on a Nazi uniform, a former hired laborer who was once a nice fellow quietly doing his job would suddenly start acting like a petty tyrant. While exercising great caution in expressing our political opinions around such people, we frequently grumbled about this phenomenon among ourselves. “This son of a gun was shoveling manure, but now he acts like a big shot. You have to watch out for him.”
If a farmer or businessman applied to the local government for some type of required permit, his request first had to obtain the written approval of the local Nazi Party organization before the government would consider it. If the farmer in question was not a member of the Party or at least friendly to it, Nazi officials would frequently make it difficult to acquire the necessary document. A direct appeal to the Party might resolve the problem, but would leave the citizen indebted and humiliated.
My family never publicly expressed our disapproval of the regime, but our unfavorable attitude was recognized by the local authorities. In response, they would sometimes burden our family with certain undesirable tasks. When one of the newly minted local Nazi Party officials demanded that my grandfather perform some unreasonable order, he simply refused to obey. Believing that he could intimidate this elderly man into submitting to his authority, the party official came to our farm a couple of days later and confronted my grandfather in front of the Altenteil (my grandparents’ home).
Instead of yielding, my grandfather grew angry. Grabbing a shovel, he threatened to chop the man’s head off unless he got off the property and stopped harassing him. If this Nazi had not backed down, I feel certain my grandfather would have tried to kill him. The Nazis rarely tolerated such resistance, but perhaps because of his age my grandfather suffered no punishment for his bold act of defiance.
Some years later on his eightieth birthday, my grandfather received a gift from the local company that purchased our family’s grain. Anticipating that the wooden box contained several bottles of wine, he reacted with disgust when it instead held a framed photograph of Hitler. Of all my family, his view of the Nazis was perhaps the most unrelentingly negative.
Before Hitler came to power, what I least comprehended was the depth of Nazi animosity toward Germany’s Jewish population. Because I viewed a Jewish person as simply being a German of a different religion and had never experienced problems with one, the Nazis’ hostility seemed irrational to me, as it probably did to most Germans.
While there were no Jewish families residing in Püggen, my family had long maintained a friendly commercial relationship with a Jewish businessman from Berlin. Until the mid-1930s, he regularly showed up at our farm with a truck to buy the apples from our orchards. The only other Jewish person I knew about in my youth was a German veteran of the Great War who had been wounded in battle and left with a metal plate in his head.
Beginning in 1933, the Nazi Minister of Propaganda, Josef Göbbels, unleashed a long and intense media campaign that attempted to dehumanize and vilify the Jewish population. A more educated man than his leader, Göbbels oratory was the equal of Hitler’s and highly effective.
In various ways, he and the Nazis sought to blame the Jews for exploiting Germans who were facing financial hardship in the Great Depression. More generally, they also alleged that the Jews conspired in one way or another to bring about most of Germany’s and the world’s other problems. Because most people tend to believe what they read and hear, the Nazi dictatorship’s monopoly over the media gave it a powerful ability to manipulate German opinion.
The relentless accusations gradually convinced large numbers of Germans to see the Jews as a threat to society. While not personally developing anti-Semitic feelings, I probably did grow more indifferent to what happened to Jewish people. As a result of the Nazi propaganda, many Germans like myself would react with apathy to the increasingly ruthless measures taken against the Jewish population in the years to come.