Lethargic Man (anag.)

On Whit Monday, I took advantage of the public holiday and the presence of my in-laws (to look after Rafi) to go on a bike ride to the northernmost section of the Berlin Wall Trail (which turned out to be a 43 mile ride in total).

On the edge of Hohen Neuendorf (or, technically, just across the state line and former border in Frohnau), there was a substantial exhibition on the Wall, located outside of one of the few remaining watchtowers.

I found this exhibition interesting not least because it featured an infoboard about the East German border guards who portrayed the Wall. Rather than being psychopaths who volunteered for the chance to fire upon their fellow citizens, many of them were soldiers who had to serve involuntarily on the Wall, and feared being put into the position of having to open fire on people trying to escape to the West:

One day in October 1989 Holger Westphal found himself with fifteen soldiers and a Kalashnikov in his lorry in the Berlin hinterland, to protect this area. On the day in question demonstrations were announced, therefore the security level was somewhat raised.

Shortly before leaving the lorry, the officer gave the order to shoot in the case of an attempted border crossing. Later this order was, however, disclaimed. The fifteen soldiers, who had to take up positions every fifty metres, decided in advance though not to shoot, which would have been punished as high treason.

(Translation by myself.) Westphal goes on to say the fall of the Wall was his happiest day as a soldier.

From another infoboard, after mentioning that the Wall stood 2-3m inside East German territory:

Feared by me were the inspection rounds on the other side of the Wall. As a soldier I had to proceed with a machine pistol, behind me an officer equipped with a pistol.

Sometimes it happened that French soldiers waved (this being alongside the French occupation zone of West Berlin); I could just run away and make off. Then I heard a quiet click. The officer behind me had released the safety on his pistol. And it was fully clear that he would not fire upon the French. Just don't stumble now, I thought in a panic.

Another infoboard related the life of those living in houses in Hohen Neuendorf in the border zone, whom people had to get permission to visit, which was almost never granted to non-relatives. Guests were not allowed inside their houses, which meant that to receive guests they had to carry tables and chairs onto the street; and their children were never able to host birthday parties.

Another showed how at Bernauer Straße in central Berlin, the border area was progressively widened: At first, a wall was only constructed across street mouths, and the windows of houses facing into West Berlin were walled up. Later, a border strip was created and the houses were demolished, except for their façade, which continued to serve as part of the Wall; later still that was replaced with the well-known concrete wall with a pipe on top (to make it difficult to purchase handholds for anyone trying to climb over).

As part of this, part of a cemetery adjoining Bernauer Straße was turned into the killing field in front of the wall, and the graves were moved. I couldn't help but find myself wondering, though, whether this was because the authoritarian communist regime viewed having soldiers patrolling through the cemetery as a descration, or whether they were worried about the dead defecting to the West...