An brook so shallow you hardly got your feet wet separated a village for over four decades worth of time. Because of a chance of geography, the fifty residents of Mödlareuth, a tiny settlement bordered by coniferous woods, pastures and breathtaking vistas, found themselves at the heart of the Cold War conflict. They had the unfortunate circumstance to span the Bavarian region, in Western Germany, and Thuringia in the Soviet sector, a border that was marked first by a enclosure and then by a partition. United States military personnel called it Little Berlin.
Months after their own division was torn down, and even before their country had become one in 1990, a collection of villagers set about documenting their history. The project is soon to be completed: on 9 November, the thirty-sixth remembrance of the demolition of the German barrier, the Museum of German Division Mödlareuth will open. It was publicly opened by the national president, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, in early October, but the exhibition was not entirely prepared. Telling the locals who endured the former times, Steinmeier remarked: “You were bystanders of an inhuman division, which pulled families asunder and turned neighbours into strangers.”
“You were witnesses of an inhuman split, which ripped households apart and turned neighbours into aliens.”
Starting at its founding in 1810, the village cut across the Bavarian Kingdom and the Principality of Reuss, a noble lineage most renowned for giving all its male descendants the name Heinrich and labeling them in order by birth. As Steinmeier told the gathering, the quirk was never an obstacle in the path of the inhabitants drinking in the same pub, attending the very same religious building and enrolling their kids to the very same school.
Subsequently occurred the World War II. Immediately after they arrived, the Russians put up wood stakes by the creek. For a annual period they seized the complete hamlet, creating their command in a building on the Bavarian territory side, embellishing it with a picture of Stalin and a red star. The American soldiers urged them to pull back to the other side of the brook. For a period, residents could still hop over, though as restrictions tightened they were required to show identity papers, even though everyone was aware who they were, and to return at after dark.
After that, in 1952, came barbed wire and the formal closing of the border. In 1966, as in Berlin previously in 1961, a concrete structure was constructed, with mines, anti-tank obstacles and observation points. The locals could continue to view each other by ascending elevations, but on the eastern side signaling and calling out were banned. A local woman was put on a Stasi monitoring list for answering “same to you” to a western villager who wished her “happy new year”.
It was related to me accounts such as these incidents by Robert Lebegern, the museum’s director, who has spent a large part of his occupational time developing it. Residents were polled at an early stage about how how long a section barrier they wished to maintain. They chose a portion on the west fringe, adjacent to where one of their own was able to escape in the darkest hours with a ladder, subsequently the border was significantly strengthened.
Two watchtowers are preserved alongside a series of tableaux depicting the most dramatic dates in the hamlet’s chronicle. As we walk, Robert Lebegern lists the rules: not a single person could approach 5km of the frontier. Farmers had to obtain specific authorization to care for their crops; the spouse could operate the harvesting machine but never both, lest they sought to flee. Armed guards stood watch.
The boundary between West Germany and the East Germany extended 1,400 kilometers, from the Baltic Sea in the northern part to the south in the south. Berlin is recalled and honored the greatest, but more than twice as many individuals (exceeding 300) died seeking to pass over it in provincial zones than in the metropolis. the director reminds me that almost all of efforts to cross failed.
The greater part of Mödlareuth’s locals were rural laborers or craftsmen, who adapted to residing in the ambiguous area between two political systems by keeping their heads down and caring for their land. They nor did they endorsed the socialist government nor fought it, the director explains.
For visitors, however, the hamlet became a sort of destination. Approximately 15k came to see each year, optical devices in their hands, to gawp – and then quickly leave. In 1983, the United States leader, George Bush, was given a tour by the national security head.
Twenty-five years after unification, the television series, a television program about a imaginary community similar to Mödlareuth, resulted in fresh attention.
The inauguration of the recently established museum – with a cafe, store, film screening area and large parking lot – is probable to
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