Hidden Stuttgart History: A Native Son's Plot to Kill Hitler

The Alte Schloss, or Old Palace in Stuttgart is a beautiful yet imposing building.  Its history goes back nearly 1,000 years, yet some of it's most interesting history has to do with the 20th century.  In the early 1900's, the Alte Schloss was the  home of one of Nazi Germany's more controversial and interesting figures: Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, a man instrumental in a failed plot to overthrow Hitler known as "Operation Valkyrie".  

If that name rings a bell, it's because it's the title of the 2008 Bryan Singer film "Valkyrie," starring Tom Cruise as Claus von Stauffenberg.  The movie portrays the formulation of the plot through to its inevitable tragic conclusion, focusing on the dashing Stauffenberg, although in reality there were dozens of co-conspirators, including Claus' brother, Berthold.

But who was the real Claus von Stauffenberg?  Born into one of Swabia's oldest noble families, Claus' father held the hereditary title of Oberhofmarschall (roughly translates to "Chancellor") of the Kingdom of Wurttemberg, and as a result Claus and his brother spent their childhood residing in part of the Alte Schloss alongside the Wuerttemburg nobility.  Claus was a teenager when the German defeat in World War I and the resulting revolution ended the monarchy - and the privileges of nobility.

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Claus and Berthold as children

The brothers left Stuttgart to attend university.  Berthold then launched a career in law, while Claus began what would be a remarkable military career in the Wehrmacht, or German Army.  While both were conservative nationalists who desired a return to the monarchy,  neither of them saw Nazism as a reflection of their values and as such, neither ever joined the Party.

Despite his moral opposition to Hitler and Nazism, Claus von Stauffenberg did not oppose the invasion of Poland, which kicked off World War II in earnest, believing that Poland was meant to be a German colony. His first strong resistance to Nazi war crimes came with Operation Barbarossa, the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941.  As an Army officer on the Eastern Front, von Stauffenberg was appalled at the ill-treatment and murder of Russians and Jews.  

In 1943 he was transferred to Tunisia to fight in the Afrika Korps, where he was strafed by an Australian fighter plane.  He lost an eye, a hand, and two additional fingers as a result, and was sent home to Schloss Lautingen, one of the Stauffenberg estates south of Stuttgart, to recover.  Despite talk for years of wanting to overthrow Hitler, it was only then, when the war began going very badly for Germany, that von Stauffenberg became active in the plan for a military coup.  Although many have ascribed von Stauffenberg's rationale being a moral conflict with the crimes of Hitler and the Nazis, it was also surely motivated by the fact that Hitler was no longer listening to Army leadership in terms of tactics, and the results had been disastrous for the war.  It was clear to von Stauffenberg and many others in the military that Germany was losing the war, badly, and the only way to end the suffering of the war was to kill Hitler.

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Klaus and his future wife in 1933

The details of the plots - there were several  unsuccessful attempts previously - - are complicated but fascinating.  The final July 20th 1944 plot was a plan to unite the German army under high-ranking defectors after the death of Hitler and other high-ranking Nazi officials.  This was actually based on a contingency plan that had in fact been approved by Hitler but modified by the conspirators.  Stauffenberg's role was instrumental as he was the only person involved who had regular personal access to Hitler.  He was to put a briefcase bomb next to Hitler at a meeting of Hitler, his inner circle, and Army leadership at the "Wolf's Lair" base Hitler was operating out of.  Stauffenberg would then leave, and phone his co-conspirators in Berlin to begin mobilizing the coup.

Von Stauffenberg executed his part of the plot perfectly, despite having to arm the bombs with delicate pliers quickly in a bathroom and having but one hand with three fingers - but still it went amiss.  The bomb did in fact go off, and it killed four people.  Unfortunately, it was moved from the spot von Stauffenberg had placed it because another person at the meeting kept bumping into it.  It was then separated from Hitler by a large oak table leg before it exploded, and the heavy table ended up shielding Hitler and saving his life, although his arm was injured in the blast. Stauffenberg at attention in front of Hitler

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Claus is on the left, standing at attention in front of Hitler.

The coup still could have succeeded in the confusion following the blast, as many people in leadership believed that Hitler had been killed. A mixture of ineptitude and cowardice by a few key players in the plot resulted in a total mess, which made it easy for the Nazis to determine who was behind the assassination attempt within a matter of hours.  Von Stauffenberg and a number of co-conspirators were executed shortly after midnight on July 21st by an impromptu firing squad. Berthold was executed by slow strangulation a couple weeks later after a show trial.  Virtually everyone connected to the plot was executed, as well as many who had nothing to do with it.  By the end of the summer, over 20,000 people were either executed or sent to concentration camps based on a suspected involvement with the plot, including the families of anyone involved.

The harrowing details of the plot make for an entertaining movie, but for a deeper look at von Stauffenberg as a man, the Alte Schloss has a memorial museum dedicated to the two brothers that's accessed from Stauffenbergplatz, across from Karlsplatz - the starting point of my city walking tour.  Artifacts and interactive exhibits  illustrate the life of this daring and complicated figure.

Eurovision: The Glory, The Drama, The Cheese

There are two major events that draw Europeans together that Americans know little or nothing about.  The first is EUFA (Union of European Football Assocation) tournaments that pit countries against each other on the pitch.  The second is Eurovision, a song contest that pits countries against each other in an attempt to stay on pitch.  Many people give credit to the European Union for ending millenia of near-constant intra-European war, but I think it's fair to say that the competitive arenas of football and regrettable pop songs allows Europeans the ability to feel their hearts warmed with patriotism in a way that won't lead to invading the low countries.  (Americans have no need for this, as we are patriotic 24 hours a day, 365 days a year...and we still sometimes invade countries.)

Irritating Euros with patriotic fervor every day.

Unlike football, Eurovision is not loved by all Europeans - particularly the British, who have a decades-long history of mocking the contest. In general it doesn't poll well with young heterosexual men from Western European countries who think they're too cool to get into the spectacle, or are afraid showing the slightest hint of interest in the show will infect them with teh ghey.  Screw those guys.  Eurovision is awesome, and Americans should love it, too.



Here's why Americans should give Eurovision a chance:

1. It's kinda like the Oscars or Grammys, except not boring, no Billy Crystal, and with better outfits.  Remember that one year Bjork wore a swan dress?  In Eurovision everyone is Bjork every single year all the time, and it's glorious.

2. Despite the fact that Europeans consume all our pop culture just as voraciously (if not more so) than we do, Americans often feel culturally inferior to those fancy-pants Euros.  Watching Eurovision will certainly leave many Americans with a smug sense of artistic superiority.

He's in a suit, so it's classy.

3. The lingua franca of Eurovision is English.  That is, the presenter, jury representatives, and many of the songs are in English.  Sometimes in very good English.  Sometimes in horribly mangled English.  This is funny.  It doesn't matter that the vast majority of Americans are shamefully monolingual.  It's still funny.

4. It's quite satisfying to have your secret stereotypes about various European countries confirmed vis a vis song and dance numbers.

5. It's educational.  Come on, tell me, did you really know that San Marino was a country?  I bet you didn't!  But if you watch Eurovision you might even be moved to figure out where Azerbaijan is, and how to spell it.

6. It often stirs up actual geopolitical news.  This year alone, the girl-girl kiss at the end of Finland's performance prompted Turkey not to air the show, and spurred outraged newspaper headlines in many conservative countries.  Also, Russia's Foreign Minister is demanding an investigation into the voting process over what he believes are stolen votes from former Soviet Republic Azerbaijan.  Seriously.

7.. This happened:

#welcometoeurope

All this sounds like I'm encouraging Americans to watch Eurovision to mock it, but in all honesty, my love for Eurovision is completely unironic.  I don't think it's "so bad it's good" but rather that it's a hugely entertaining show with a mix of genuinely great songs and performances and yeah, a few cringeworthy segments.  Watching the video of last year's winning song, "Euphoria," I'm reminded how thrilling it can be when infectious techno-pop, strong vocals, sweet dance moves, and serious stagecraft all come together for a few glorious minutes while bringing a whole continent together (except for the boring straight guys).

Kicking It In Köln - Part 1

Never heard of Köln?  It's only Germany's fourth-largest city.  This is one of the few major cities in Germany, along with München (Munich) whose actual name in German is very different than the name you probably know the city by - Cologne.  "Köln" with the unique umlaut "O" sound is quite difficult for non-Germans to pronounce correctly.  "Kueln" said with pursed lips for the vowel part comes close, but I'm assured by German friends that I'm still not saying it correctly. 

The park along the Rhine, with the Hohenzollern bridge in the background.

Somewhat strangely, Köln is a tourist hub, despite having only one year-round claim to fame - it's massive cathedral  Germany's largest and also it's most visited tourist attraction, period.  Köln's other major attraction is it's Karneval, which is basically German Mardi Gras celebrated before the start of Lent towards the end of winter. Köln has the strange distinction of being a heavily visited city that largely lacks in touristic charm and attractions, more a function of it's convenient location as a transit hub.  Most visitors are day-trippers, stopped over on their way somewhere else, or convention traffic.

Our reasons for visiting were different.  My husband is a big fan of the Oakland, California based hip-hop group "The Coup" and Köln was their only German tour date.  Since we'd never made it all the way up there, we decided it was a great opportunity to visit a city we'd meant to get around to seeing and hadn't yet.  Besides, I'm a certified old cathedral nut, so I had to make the pilgrimage. 

After the comfy two-hour ICE train ride, crossing the Rhine over the Hohenzollern bridge, which is the most traversed train bridge in the world, we arrived early afternoon on a gorgeous sunny spring day.  The weather in Stuttgart hadn't been nearly as nice, so the clear blue skies and t-shirt weather certainly gave Köln a bit of a sparkle.  

That said, it was very clear we weren't in Swabia anymore.  The public transit system there is a bit bonkers, with outdated U-Bahn trains and largely non-functional ticket machines.  The Rhineish cuisine is so different from what I'm used to that I largely couldn't decipher any menu that was off the tourist track. Köln was bombed heavily during WWII, but unlike many cities in Germany, it was largely rebuilt in the style of the times, so the city features a lot of fairly unpleasant modern architecture from the 1950s through the '80s, with very few buildings even in the historic center of town being rebuilt in the old style.  Stuttgart also gets a bad rap for this, but aesthetically Stuttgart is far lovelier than Köln.  And then there's the issue of the tiny beers - even though Kölners are famously proud of their light, hoppy lager style of brew, referred to as Kölsch, they come in tiny glasses that fit only 0.2 liters of the delicious brew.  In theory, brusque but efficient Kölnish waiters are supposed to refill these small glasses constantly, without asking - you place your coaster on top of your glass to signal you don't want another - but in reality the waiters were taciturn but not particularly fast when it came to refilling your beer.  Running out of beer and having to wait isn't usually a problem in a country where often the standard size is a half-liter.

Those quibbles aside, the sun was shining, the Rhine was sparkling, and the beer was refreshing, all of which gave Köln a lovely air, at least on this particular weekend.  

Let's Play Some Fussball!

Sorry everybody, I've been absolutely terrible about maintaining this blog.  It's overly-socially-networked syndrome, where between Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr you're so busy updating ridiculous minutiae of your life that you forget to actually write.

But I don't want to do a general update about how we're getting on in Germany - I'll save that for later.  For now I want to talk about the sport that's captured my attention and my husband's heart: football!  Or soccer.  I'm trying really hard not to say "soccer" since virtually everyone else in the world calls it "football".

France and England are going at it!

Football is difficult for Americans to understand.  It's foreign.  It also has unfornate associations in the U.S. as a children's sport and as well, something those effeminate Europeans are into.  It's an unfair reputation, given what a high-contact, brutal sport it can be.  Unlike American football, there's not much in the way of padding, and there's a lot of cleat-on-face action.  On the other hand, coming from American sports, it can be difficult to watch, due to the high degree of "flopping" (in an attempt to show the other team committed a foul, players will drop to the ground and writhe around as if they're giving birth) and the somewhat inscrutable rules.

But even without a lot of knowledge, it's a really fun sport to watch.  Particularly, I think, for people who enjoy basketball and hockey.  It's incredibly fast-paced, and the clock rarely stops.  It's also a relatively short game, usually ending within two to two and a half hours - a nice respite from baseball games that can go on forever.  Unlike baseball, football can end in a tie, and this is not an infrequent occurrence.  A bit frustrating for Americans like me who are used to clear winners and losers.

Fussball im Biergarten

But football is not always as exciting as it is right now, and that's because the UEFA (that's United European Football Association) tournament is going on.  I have to admit, a week ago, I had no idea what it was either.  I thought I was a pretty savvy American because I knew that the World Cup was a big thing that happened every 4 years.  Turns out, the UEFA tournament is the next biggest thing (if you're in Europe) because it's basically the "Eurocup" and also only happens every four years.  Some dude told me that Europeans are more invested in it than the World Cup, because it more directly ties into intra-European rivalries.

Anyway, it kicked off on Friday and man is it a big deal here.  There's public transit discounts (You can buy a day ticket to ride the public transit system in Stuttgart, and it's valid every day that Germany plays - so if Germany advances, you can get up to 6 days of free rides!), lots of public viewings with large screens and tents set up, and the celebrations.  Oh, the celebrations.

Germany beat Portugal on Saturday night, and from the way the locals reacted, you'd think they'd won the whole tournament.  Hours of screaming, shouting, honking, and being accosted by friendly drunken soccer fans wearing German flags as capes.  It was pretty fun for me, as I'd been out watching the game and got to partake in the festivities, but my poor husband had been sleeping so he could get up for work at 4:00 a.m.  Needless to say, I don't think he's super into Germany winning.

German vs. Netherlands

Things were a bit more sedate tonight, when Germany played the Netherlands.  The expat group I'm a part of consists mostly of Americans, Brits, and Irish people, so they tend to watch all the games in Irish pubs, which are largely devoid of Germans.  Fine for an England or Ireland game, but boring for a German game.  So we went into the mitte.  I was actually supporting the Netherlands tonight, because my poor friend Tom was and there are almost no Dutch people here.  Unsurprisingly, Germany won, and while it wasn't as crazy as Saturday night, there were still hordes of drunken German boys slurring patriotic songs into the night.

On Friday we get to watch France play in France, which will be pretty cool, and on Sunday, Germany plays Denmark, and even if Germany loses, they still have a shot of getting into the semifinals.  But let's face it, Germany isn't going to lose!  (Knock on wood).

Fahrvergnügen

I don't consider myself a car-dependent person.  I haven't personally owned a car since 2006, and haven't even hard a (working) car in the household for well over two years.  I believe in living, whenever possible, in walkable neighborhood with good public transit access.  (Realizing that the ability to do so is absolutely a function of class, and in some situations no matter how much money you make, it's simply impossible.  However, do I turn my nose up at middle-to-upper class people in the Bay Area who choose to live in suburbs with no public transit?  Yes, yes I do.)  In general I think cars are frustrating money-pits and I can do without one, thank you very much.

This feeling solidified when we moved to Germany, since the U-and-S-Bahn systems are fast and efficient.  We made a point of getting an apartment in a neighborhood with access to pharmacies, grocery stores, restaurants, and as close as possible to an U-Bahn stop (we're literally 5 minute walk from one).   Meanwhile, driving in Germany seemed terrifying.  The rules are the road are different enough from the U.S. to be confusing.  The streets are narrow and parking is often non-existent.   The high-speed car thoroughfares in the center of the town looked daunting, German drivers appeared aggressive, and the autobahn with it's lack of speed limits?  Forget it.  I had no interest in driving here.

Surprised that I love a Ford this much!

And yet, within the space of a week, I passed my drivers' test, bought a car, and have been tearing up German roadways including a 4 hour-round trip into another state - on the dreaded autobahn.  And I'm loving it.

Truth be told, I feel a little guilty for being so enthusiastic about rejoining the driving class.  But there's a few good reasons why I am:

1. We moved into an apartment nearly twice the size of our previous one, and made the sensible (?) decision when we left the states to get rid of old, crappy furniture instead of having it shipped overseas.  We needed to buy a LOT of stuff.  Some of the larger items, like a bedroom set for our guest room, and a sofa, we were able to rent.  But when it comes to storage, shelves, chairs, lamps (remember kids: European apartments generally come without lighting fixtures!  I had to buy 14 if you can believe it.), 220 volt appliances - we needed all this stuff and we very quickly learned that trips to IKEA are just not that productive sans car.  I have accomplished more with regard to getting set up in our apartment in the last two weeks than I had in the previous two months.  

2. While Germany's public transit system is fantastic, it seems that the Germans are practically American when it comes to public transit access to the American bases.  There are four "barracks" in the region, all within a 20-minute drive of each other.  Three of those bases we have to go to on a regular basis - one for work, one for all administrative stuff plus the Exchange department store, the other for the American grocery store (the commissary).  Now while it's true that in most cases for us, shopping "on the economy" (i.e. at German stores) is more efficient, sometimes you just need stuff from one of the American stores.  Like American peanut butter.  Or decent Tequila.  Or a large books and magazines in English.  Even though we live less than 5 miles from the base where Chris works and the base with the commissary, getting to either one via public transit takes over an hour, mostly because for both the nearest public transit stop is a 20 minute walk to the base itself.  In a car, it's less than 15 minutes to either.  Given that Chris has to be on base 13 hours a day for his shifts, having a car actually gives him time to relax after work, as opposed to needing to go to sleep as soon as he gets home in order to catch 8 hours.

3. In retrospect, driving in Germany isn't that scary at all.  The strange elements - unmarked intersections with a "yield to the right" rule - are usually in areas where you're driving slowly anyway.  Most other issues are minor - streetlights are on your side of the intersection as opposed to across it or in the middle, which takes some getting used to, but isn't hugely stressful.  German drivers may drive fast when they can, but they also so far seem pretty predictable in observing the rules of the road, far better than Americans.  A guy may be blowing past you at 130 mph on the Autobahn, but as soon as the speed limit is enforced, he slows down to 120 kph just like the rest of us.  They're great at merging, and are less likely to cut you off.  

I've only had one really stressful driving incident so far, but my reaction to it surprised me.  After dropping Chris off at work, I drove home via surface streets.  At one point I'm on a narrow street with lots of pedestrians, and the speed limit was 50 kph (30 mph).  A SmartCar came up behind me and started tailgating me.  I was going the speed limit (which already felt pretty fast on that street) and maintained it, and then he honked at me.  The nerve!  So I flipped him off and spent a lot of time at the next light glaring at him in my rear view mirror.  He actually illegally passed me at the next light, which was ridiculous because then he was stuck behind two more cars making their way down the hillside road at the same speed I did, but I did delight in tailgating his ass down the mountain.  Mature?  Not really.  But this Apple-sticker loving douchebag brought out my inner Bay Area driver, and the sense of deference and shyness that I generally have when interacting with Germans evaporated.  Because he was driving like an asshole, regardless of location, and I had no trepidation about letting him know it.

Strangely, something I  feared for months has actually been very empowering in practice.  I no longer feel like a confused, house-bound hausfrau.  I'm in charge of the road, baby, and I can go anywhere.