It is to great credit to the city of Berlin how the wall has been allowed to melt away but not forgotten, to be a memorial and a tourist attraction, of course thousands of tonnes of concrete have appeared since pertaining to once being part of the wall.
As Peter has pointed out, the brass Stolpersteine are a simple but powerful reminder of the past and the victims of the Nazi terror. The idea has spread to
many other cities including Brussels where I lived for many years.
Marking history on the ground is a very powerful thing. My wife and I straddled that line from the Potsdamer Platz down to the Topography of Terror a couple of years ago, and it’s impossible not to think about what was once three and what it all meant.
I’ve also been struck in the past by the brass plaques on pavements in German cities, commemorating individuals who were arrested and sent to concentration camps during the Nazi terror. The barest information - date, names, where they were taken. Unobtrusive but incredibly powerful.
I think the first time I saw the remains of the wall was at the Topography of Terror, an interesting museum. I think a nature reserve is a terrific way to memorialise the inner border and history. As I said elsewhere when visiting Berlin many years ago when asked by my companions where was the wall I directed their attention to the ground. Good article Katja. Hope the interview went well, less opportunity for whataboutery I imagine.
Sunday, August 13, 1961. A beautiful summer day. I was 13, and it is forever etched in my memory. As another year comes around, I remember that day just as clearly, the day Berlin was divided and Germany changed forever.
The Wall ended all visits with our relatives from the East, and by the time it fell in 1989, they had all passed on.
My daughter lives about 50 metres from where the Wall stood at Waldemarstrasse. Step out of her door, and you can spend an entire day exploring Berlin Wall history around Alfred-Döblin-Platz, Sebastianstraße (failed tunnel attempt) and Leuschnerdamm - all within a couple of minutes' walk; not to mention the Tunnel and Bunker (Dresdener Straße) tour right outside her gate. I feel very lucky to be able to 'visit history' regularly.
I was lucky enough to see the 'Death Strip' live? from both sides of the wall, watching not only rabbits and fox playing without the danger of Berlin traffick but, a parakeet who I was reliably informed by an 'official' that it had escaped into no mans land to excape the oppressive East :)
Of course, it was always a true green belt in part of the French sector where you could try to conceal yourself in trees. That did not end well for me back in the early 1980s. A very strange place was Steinstucken where there was the wall on both sides of the road and eventually you reached a small country village. You could ride there on the top of a Berlin double decker bus. Our American boss tried to stage a very silly stunt there which really annoyed me and my Dutch and Danish colleagues, even more so when he started to create mayhem in the village.
Greetings Wyn, I agree that Steinstucken was a very strange place, but a very interesting place to sit and have a beer in an old village atmosphere and ponder that on the other side of the Wall was Potsdam. I'm curious what silly stunt your boss staged and how it created mayhem--could you give us more details?
Fortunately we did get a relaxing beer eventually but only after our American boss had been all round the village looking for a memorial to an American helicopter crew who crashed at the height of the Berlin crisis. We were supposed to go on the top deck of the bus and shout at the 'Commies' and give them the finger. They couldn't hear us and we thought the whole thing was a waste of time and we did it in a very half hearted fashion. It brought to mind the time I was with my Danish friend watching Zelig in Chicago and we were the only people who laughed at the phrase in German 'zwei Amerikanish [sp?] dumkopfen.'
Thanks Katya, for another interesting essay that brings back a flood of memories of that transformative time ending the Cold War and resulting in German unification. I’ll try to briefly summarize two things that stuck with me over the years.
1.The Allied forces conducted daily patrols of the entire wall to show their presence, by vehicle in the morning and by helicopter in the afternoon. I patrolled the American sector many times, and the differences in how the Wall appeared in the various sectors and from ground and air were striking but reinforced the overall impression that the Wall was a monument of inhumanity and a historical anomaly.
Despite that inescapable fact, there were some very unique spots in the shadow of the Wall created by the geography of rivers, canals, forests and old village borders where the limits of the Wall prevented endless “growth” from homogenizing everything. Two of my favorite places were Steinstücken, a long narrow peninsula of land jutting into the DDR with cobblestone streets completely enclosed by the Wall in the southwestern American sector, and already mentioned by Wyn.
Also unique was Frohnau, bordered by the Wall in the northwestern French sector and still retaining a rural village atmosphere from the pre-war years. On Saturday mornings I often parked in the Tegel Forest and carried a folding chair up a scenic hill in a desolate part of Frohnau that overlooked the Wall, where I sat and read books looking toward the distant DDR village of Stolpe. To the right and left of the hill were two guard towers, less than 100 meters away, and I had the Orwellian experience of watching through my binoculars the Grenztruppen in their towers watching me through their binoculars.
As a break from reading, I would sometimes write messages on a notepad and hold them up, such as “Die Mauer muss weg” or “Kalter Krieg ist Wahnsinn.” In 1986 the guards gave no response at all, in the summer of 1987 I could see them smiling and giving the binoculars back and forth, and in the summer of 1988 they sometimes returned my wave or gave me a thumbs up when I held up a beer with the message “Prost!” From these small but significant changes in attitude, I sensed the winds of glasnost were beginning to blow in the DDR.
2. After arriving in Berlin in 1986, I attended my first DDR Anniversary October 7 military parade in East Berlin. While taking pictures of various armored vehicles, I saw a group of infantrymen standing in front of their BMP, with a large ceremonial DDR parade flag sticking out of the turret. As they waited for orders to start, they chatted with women holding flowers, small DDR flags and white flags with a blue peace dove on them. When the soldiers saw me in my US uniform pointing a camera in their direction, they took a white flag, held it out straight to show the dove, and posed for me. They are smiling, and one has a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
I framed the picture, and it sat on my desk for the next four years while I served as company commander and operations officer. It irritated many people, who asked me why I had a picture of the East German “enemy” prominently displayed. I told them it was a symbol of the coming unification, to which they would laugh and give the very American response of “if you believe that, then I have some swampland to sell you.”
In 1991, as I prepared to leave Berlin, I was swamped with requests from friends who wanted pieces of the rapidly disappearing Wall. I dutifully wasted the time and effort of hammering on the Wall and accumulated eight 10-pound burlap bags of Wall fragments that I stacked in the basement of my apartment building and eventually moved to the trunk of my car in preparation to box them and ship them to the US.
But as I continued to see daily stories in the press of the legions of Mauerspechte, and saw the legions of American VIPs stream to Berlin to give speeches on freedom and collect their plaques with pieces of the Wall mounted on them, I had a change of heart and mind. When I sold my car, I told the buyer there were 80 pounds of Wall chunks in the trunk, and asked “Do you want to keep them, or do you want me to unload them by the dumpster?” Wow, he said, I’d love to have them as all my friends are asking me to send them pieces of the Wall. Have at it, I said, and good luck.
I’ve never regretted leaving all the asbestos laden fragments of Wall in my car, as pieces of rock are not how I wanted to remember the great cultural experience of Berlin.
But the picture of the East German soldiers smiling with their peace flag still sits on my bookshelf.
I first visited Berlin in 1988. Must confess it had a strange atmosphere.
Walking by the Wall and along the river was interesting as was Check-point Charlie - but what I found unsettling was looking over the Wall and seeing Potsdamerplatz in the distance, almost entirely unchanged since 1949.
Berlin is a wonderful city now.........though it has been allowed to become shabby these past few years - litter everywhere and the Tiergarten flower gardens not maintained.
Sunday, August 13, 1961—a beautiful summer day. I was 13, and it is forever etched in my memory. As another year comes around, I remember that day just as clearly—the day Berlin was divided and Germany changed forever.
It is to great credit to the city of Berlin how the wall has been allowed to melt away but not forgotten, to be a memorial and a tourist attraction, of course thousands of tonnes of concrete have appeared since pertaining to once being part of the wall.
Berlin one of the worlds great cities, feel I need to visit again it’s been a few years , it’s an historians love affair 😃
As Peter has pointed out, the brass Stolpersteine are a simple but powerful reminder of the past and the victims of the Nazi terror. The idea has spread to
many other cities including Brussels where I lived for many years.
Marking history on the ground is a very powerful thing. My wife and I straddled that line from the Potsdamer Platz down to the Topography of Terror a couple of years ago, and it’s impossible not to think about what was once three and what it all meant.
I’ve also been struck in the past by the brass plaques on pavements in German cities, commemorating individuals who were arrested and sent to concentration camps during the Nazi terror. The barest information - date, names, where they were taken. Unobtrusive but incredibly powerful.
I think the first time I saw the remains of the wall was at the Topography of Terror, an interesting museum. I think a nature reserve is a terrific way to memorialise the inner border and history. As I said elsewhere when visiting Berlin many years ago when asked by my companions where was the wall I directed their attention to the ground. Good article Katja. Hope the interview went well, less opportunity for whataboutery I imagine.
Sunday, August 13, 1961. A beautiful summer day. I was 13, and it is forever etched in my memory. As another year comes around, I remember that day just as clearly, the day Berlin was divided and Germany changed forever.
The Wall ended all visits with our relatives from the East, and by the time it fell in 1989, they had all passed on.
Must be a very tough anniversary for you. Best wishes.
My daughter lives about 50 metres from where the Wall stood at Waldemarstrasse. Step out of her door, and you can spend an entire day exploring Berlin Wall history around Alfred-Döblin-Platz, Sebastianstraße (failed tunnel attempt) and Leuschnerdamm - all within a couple of minutes' walk; not to mention the Tunnel and Bunker (Dresdener Straße) tour right outside her gate. I feel very lucky to be able to 'visit history' regularly.
I was lucky enough to see the 'Death Strip' live? from both sides of the wall, watching not only rabbits and fox playing without the danger of Berlin traffick but, a parakeet who I was reliably informed by an 'official' that it had escaped into no mans land to excape the oppressive East :)
Of course, it was always a true green belt in part of the French sector where you could try to conceal yourself in trees. That did not end well for me back in the early 1980s. A very strange place was Steinstucken where there was the wall on both sides of the road and eventually you reached a small country village. You could ride there on the top of a Berlin double decker bus. Our American boss tried to stage a very silly stunt there which really annoyed me and my Dutch and Danish colleagues, even more so when he started to create mayhem in the village.
Greetings Wyn, I agree that Steinstucken was a very strange place, but a very interesting place to sit and have a beer in an old village atmosphere and ponder that on the other side of the Wall was Potsdam. I'm curious what silly stunt your boss staged and how it created mayhem--could you give us more details?
Fortunately we did get a relaxing beer eventually but only after our American boss had been all round the village looking for a memorial to an American helicopter crew who crashed at the height of the Berlin crisis. We were supposed to go on the top deck of the bus and shout at the 'Commies' and give them the finger. They couldn't hear us and we thought the whole thing was a waste of time and we did it in a very half hearted fashion. It brought to mind the time I was with my Danish friend watching Zelig in Chicago and we were the only people who laughed at the phrase in German 'zwei Amerikanish [sp?] dumkopfen.'
Thanks Katya, for another interesting essay that brings back a flood of memories of that transformative time ending the Cold War and resulting in German unification. I’ll try to briefly summarize two things that stuck with me over the years.
1.The Allied forces conducted daily patrols of the entire wall to show their presence, by vehicle in the morning and by helicopter in the afternoon. I patrolled the American sector many times, and the differences in how the Wall appeared in the various sectors and from ground and air were striking but reinforced the overall impression that the Wall was a monument of inhumanity and a historical anomaly.
Despite that inescapable fact, there were some very unique spots in the shadow of the Wall created by the geography of rivers, canals, forests and old village borders where the limits of the Wall prevented endless “growth” from homogenizing everything. Two of my favorite places were Steinstücken, a long narrow peninsula of land jutting into the DDR with cobblestone streets completely enclosed by the Wall in the southwestern American sector, and already mentioned by Wyn.
Also unique was Frohnau, bordered by the Wall in the northwestern French sector and still retaining a rural village atmosphere from the pre-war years. On Saturday mornings I often parked in the Tegel Forest and carried a folding chair up a scenic hill in a desolate part of Frohnau that overlooked the Wall, where I sat and read books looking toward the distant DDR village of Stolpe. To the right and left of the hill were two guard towers, less than 100 meters away, and I had the Orwellian experience of watching through my binoculars the Grenztruppen in their towers watching me through their binoculars.
As a break from reading, I would sometimes write messages on a notepad and hold them up, such as “Die Mauer muss weg” or “Kalter Krieg ist Wahnsinn.” In 1986 the guards gave no response at all, in the summer of 1987 I could see them smiling and giving the binoculars back and forth, and in the summer of 1988 they sometimes returned my wave or gave me a thumbs up when I held up a beer with the message “Prost!” From these small but significant changes in attitude, I sensed the winds of glasnost were beginning to blow in the DDR.
2. After arriving in Berlin in 1986, I attended my first DDR Anniversary October 7 military parade in East Berlin. While taking pictures of various armored vehicles, I saw a group of infantrymen standing in front of their BMP, with a large ceremonial DDR parade flag sticking out of the turret. As they waited for orders to start, they chatted with women holding flowers, small DDR flags and white flags with a blue peace dove on them. When the soldiers saw me in my US uniform pointing a camera in their direction, they took a white flag, held it out straight to show the dove, and posed for me. They are smiling, and one has a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
I framed the picture, and it sat on my desk for the next four years while I served as company commander and operations officer. It irritated many people, who asked me why I had a picture of the East German “enemy” prominently displayed. I told them it was a symbol of the coming unification, to which they would laugh and give the very American response of “if you believe that, then I have some swampland to sell you.”
In 1991, as I prepared to leave Berlin, I was swamped with requests from friends who wanted pieces of the rapidly disappearing Wall. I dutifully wasted the time and effort of hammering on the Wall and accumulated eight 10-pound burlap bags of Wall fragments that I stacked in the basement of my apartment building and eventually moved to the trunk of my car in preparation to box them and ship them to the US.
But as I continued to see daily stories in the press of the legions of Mauerspechte, and saw the legions of American VIPs stream to Berlin to give speeches on freedom and collect their plaques with pieces of the Wall mounted on them, I had a change of heart and mind. When I sold my car, I told the buyer there were 80 pounds of Wall chunks in the trunk, and asked “Do you want to keep them, or do you want me to unload them by the dumpster?” Wow, he said, I’d love to have them as all my friends are asking me to send them pieces of the Wall. Have at it, I said, and good luck.
I’ve never regretted leaving all the asbestos laden fragments of Wall in my car, as pieces of rock are not how I wanted to remember the great cultural experience of Berlin.
But the picture of the East German soldiers smiling with their peace flag still sits on my bookshelf.
I first visited Berlin in 1988. Must confess it had a strange atmosphere.
Walking by the Wall and along the river was interesting as was Check-point Charlie - but what I found unsettling was looking over the Wall and seeing Potsdamerplatz in the distance, almost entirely unchanged since 1949.
Berlin is a wonderful city now.........though it has been allowed to become shabby these past few years - litter everywhere and the Tiergarten flower gardens not maintained.
Sunday, August 13, 1961—a beautiful summer day. I was 13, and it is forever etched in my memory. As another year comes around, I remember that day just as clearly—the day Berlin was divided and Germany changed forever.
At least something positive has come out of the border dividing the two Germanys.