In a time when most capitalist nations were grappling with a severe economic downturn, Germany emerged as the first to recover and thrive. The streets of Berlin were lined with posters of Akkado, heralding the head of state as the savior of Germany. Everywhere, new factories and shops sprang up, and the bustling streets were adorned with the latest models of Mercedes-Benz and BMW cars, adding a modern flair to the cityscape. The newly constructed Royal White Orchid Hotel on Wilhelmstrasse stood as a testament to luxury, its lobby gleaming under the light of opulent chandeliers while attentive waiters greeted each guest with a nod.
In a discreet corner of the hotel's business café, a young man clad in an SS officer's uniform savored his coffee with a discerning taste. Across from him sat a bearded man in a plaid suit. The officer, with a light chuckle, informed the newcomer, "Sorry, this seat is taken. Please, find another."
The bearded man, ignoring the hint, commented softly, "The sun at four in the afternoon does indeed have a Cossack's warmth. A sip of vodka in this light would be bliss." He glanced around the café before adding, "It's quite safe here. The Royal White Orchid leads the industry, so it's unlikely anyone would suspect our meeting."
The SS officer, looking directly at the bearded man, gently suggested, "Take heed, Mr. Vodka. It's best to be cautious."
The bearded man, picking up a newspaper from the table, responded, "You are the last remaining link in the German Communist International. I took a great risk to bring this information because it's crucial. We've had traitors at the top of the Bolsheviks, costing us many comrades."
As they spoke, the officer placed some banknotes on the table, stood up, and walked out. The bearded man followed, newspaper in hand. They exited the hotel, turned a couple of corners, and arrived in a deserted alley.
The officer handed over two documents, saying, "Take these to Slovakia. You'll have cover from Germany. I found these in the Prague office during a business trip. I could only take photos, not the originals."
The bearded man, tucking the rolls into his pocket, asked, "Can you get the originals? High-level intelligence needs to be precise."
The young SS officer explained with frustration, "Even our department head, Major General Gaskol, needs a state head's order to access the main archive. You'll have to retrieve the originals yourself."
"Understood. I'm just the messenger. Decisions are above my pay grade," sighed the bearded man, asking if there was anything else.
"The other document details a new German submarine, far superior to those we've seen. It should be helpful," the officer added.
The bearded man handed over an envelope containing $10,000, "Save this. I'll deposit the rest in a Dutch bank for when you retire..."
The officer scoffed, "As if anyone in our line of work retires."
"Take care," the bearded man said, patting the officer on the shoulder. "When you return, I'll treat you to vodka."
The young man pondered aloud, "Perhaps another piece of information could secure my return? I might even get the blueprints for the German tanks."
"Do what you can," the bearded man advised before quickly departing. He sensed something amiss — the silence around them was unsettling.
"If it's safe, leave a message at our usual spot," the young officer suggested as he prepared his escape, sensing danger. He sprinted towards a nearby stairwell leading to an inconspicuous safe house he maintained for such occasions.
Inside, he barely had time to hide the money and mess up his uniform before gunshots echoed nearby. Hastily, he doused himself with whiskey from the table, simulating drunkenness.
Soon, heavy knocks and shouts of "SS search! Open up!" came at his door. Playing the part of a drunk, he staggered to the door, opening it to reveal an SS captain and two soldiers.
"Long live the head of state!" they greeted, receiving a slurred response from the officer.
After a brief and confused inspection, convinced by his act, the SS team withdrew, apologizing for the disturbance.
Relieved, the officer wondered about the bearded man's fate. The original meeting point was compromised, and now he had to lay low, awaiting contact from his organization.
Meanwhile, less than a kilometer from the National Defense Forces headquarters, at a secret Communist International communication station in Berlin's 3rd block, an old man was startled by a weak knock late at night. Opening the door, he discovered the bearded man, bloodied and barely alive, who entrusted him with the documents before succumbing to his wounds.
The old man secured the documents, then called out for help, drawing the attention of neighbors and soon, the police and SS officers. Despite their suspicions and thorough questioning, nothing was found or disturbed at the scene.
As the authorities left empty-handed, the old man knew the importance of what had been entrusted to him — documents that could alter the course of the conflict, now hidden safely away.
"Look at those Germans, they're also in an economic crisis, but at least they have potatoes and vegetables to eat. How about us? We work all day on an empty stomach," a worker lamented as he sat beside the cold machinery, his toes curling in discomfort. He tossed a large iron tong onto the ground in frustration.
"Are you sure?" another worker next to him scoffed. "We haven't even started work for several days! How can we be hungry from work when there's no work to begin with? If there was work, at least there'd be a little hope. Without it, we can only starve!"
"We're also Germans, the best people, according to Mr. Rudolph. Why do we have to go hungry while our compatriots in the homeland have something to eat?" the first worker responded helplessly.
"Mr. Rudolph is now the German Chancellor. He has ways to save the Germans in Germany, but he can't save us here! We're oppressed!" a worker not far away interjected indignantly. His face flushed with anger, he waved his hands and continued, "We had a little bit of work, but the Czechs at the main factory were like parasites. They used our factory's funds for themselves and left us in the dust. Now look at what has become of us!"
"Don't talk! The foreman is here!" another worker hissed, urging caution.
"That's exactly why I'm here!" the foreman announced as he approached, visibly upset. "We're all in the same boat! They even want us to sell our remaining raw materials at reserve prices. If we do that, we'll be completely finished!"
"Sir! Take us to strike! We can't go on like this, doing nothing!" a worker stepped forward and pleaded.
"Yes, Sir! We need to save ourselves!" another chimed in.
"Sir! Help us!" echoed others, as many more workers stood up in agreement.
"Gentlemen! I am a foreman, but first and foremost, I am a German! We Germans must be united! We must return to the embrace of our motherland! We should be eating black bread, potatoes, and lettuce leaves like our German compatriots!" the foreman raised his hand and shouted, "We won't stand for this any longer! Strike!"
"Strike!" All the workers shouted in unison, their voices filling the air with a defiant roar.
---
The telephone rang urgently at the police station, where a bearded policeman wearing a helmet lazily grabbed the receiver. "Hello! This is the police station. What's the issue?"
"Fifth Block! The Fifth Block is on strike! They're rioting! Many are waving flags calling for secession! We can't handle this alone! We need reinforcements, and quickly!" the voice on the other end of the line pleaded desperately.
The alarm sounded over the army station. Soldiers scrambled from their barracks and piled into vehicles, heading towards the nearby city of Karlovy Vary. They were met with barbed wire and rifles, as thousands of passionate strikers confronted them. The tension was palpable, with conflicts threatening to erupt at any moment.
Soon, the Czech garrison brought in heavy reinforcements. Two armored vehicles entered the city, stabilizing the situation in the most confrontational areas. However, the strike still caused turmoil across nearly half of the Czech Republic, plunging the entire country into chaos.
The aftermath of World War I saw the dissolution of the vast Austro-Hungarian Empire into three smaller European countries: Austria, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia. However, within Czechoslovakia lived 3.5 million German-speaking citizens. Once the dominant ethnic group in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, they were now relegated to a minority status, exacerbating national tensions.
This German-speaking population in Czechoslovakia, known as the Sudetenland, bordered Germany and received strong support from their German compatriots. The equipment provided to these strikers even surpassed that of some countries' regular armies, including rifles, pistols, dozens of radio stations, and nearly a hundred vehicles. Additionally, they received significant food aid, including canned goods, potato leaves, and even margarine—a luxury amidst the economic crisis. This support fueled the Sudetenland residents' resentment towards the Czech government.
---
"The orders from above are clear! We must handle these strikes and riots immediately!" a Czech officer instructed his adjutant. "According to reliable intelligence, Germany is mobilizing troops along the border. If this chaos continues, we will be at a disadvantage."
"We have strong fortifications on the border, Mr. Colonel. If the Germans attack, they will face fierce resistance from us," the adjutant reassured, pointing to the border area on the map.
The officer shook his head and tapped the defensive line on the map. "Here, and here! If we don't quell the domestic unrest, our troops in these fortifications will be like surrounded rabbits."
"President Thomas Masaryk has ordered that we must suppress these riotous German residents!" another officer added, pointing at the map. "And President Masaryk has assured the military that both the United Kingdom and France will support us, so a German attack is unlikely."
"I hope you're right. Order the troops to crack down. If you encounter armed resistance, you are authorized to return fire. But remember, do not fire first. Understood?"
"Yes, General!" the men replied, saluting sharply.
---
In the streets of Karlovy Vary, a Czech soldier with a rifle shouted at a protester holding a sign, "Go back!"
"Down with the dictator! We want freedom!" the protester shouted back defiantly.
"If you come any closer, we will fire!" another Czech soldier warned, aiming his gun.
"The Germans should rule over Germans! The Sudetenland is German territory! You must leave!" a woman yelled in German, her voice filled with anger.
"Please, everyone, stay calm!" the Czech soldiers pleaded once more.
But the tension only escalated. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. A German citizen in the crowd screamed and fell, clutching his chest. The Czech soldiers were stunned, turning to look at their companion, who stood there dazed, staring at his smoking gun.
More gunshots followed, and the situation rapidly deteriorated. Some Czech soldiers fired blindly at the windows of nearby buildings, while others shot into the crowd. In moments, the city of Karlovy Vary was transformed into a battlefield.
The crackdown on the Sudetenland riots and strikes in April 1933 marked one of the darkest moments in the region's history. The violent clash in Karlovy Vary resulted in the deaths of 17 Czech soldiers and 183 German residents, plunging the situation into further chaos.
---
"I've heard about the atrocities occurring just beyond our borders! Such dark and terrible events should not exist in this world, but alas, they do. Our weakness has allowed those who oppress our kin to run rampant, trampling on freedom and devastating our poor relatives and friends," Chancellor Akado Rudolph addressed the German Parliament, his voice filled with emotion.
"Our compatriots live under the rule of a malevolent force, yet they possess the Germanic spirit of democracy—this is unquestionable. But can we simply stand by and watch? Are we to do nothing? If we choose to remain passive, then we do not deserve to call ourselves Germans, let alone act as such.
"These suffering compatriots must be brought back into our fold. We are prepared to give our blood, our lives for this cause. Those vile, despicable tormentors will eventually pay the price they deserve! Long live Germany! Long live Germany!"
Chancellor Rudolph's speech, delivered on February 27, 1933, resonated deeply with the German people and received unanimous support from all parties in Congress, including those traditionally opposed to his policies. The German populace, galvanized by his words, called for the government to intervene and rescue their compatriots.
Amidst escalating protests, where people in Berlin's streets burned the Czechoslovakian flag in solidarity with the Sudeten Germans, the German government initiated negotiations with the British and French governments. A lengthy diplomatic struggle ensued over the turmoil in the Sudetenland, setting the stage for further international involvement and tension.