Chapter 371 - 16: The Collapse of the Iron Curtain

Chapter 371: Chapter 16: The Collapse of the Iron Curtain

November 7th, Tuesday, 8:00 PM.

Werner sat in the living room of the safe house, watching the news on television.

"...The entire Politburo of East Germany announced their collective resignation today. A new government is being formed on an emergency basis..."

The anchor’s voice was calm, but Werner could hear the suppressed tremor in it.

The TV screen switched to a view outside the Politburo building, where a reporter was interviewing an official who had just walked out. The official’s face was grim as he strode quickly toward a car, the reporter chasing after him.

"Excuse me, what measures will the new government take to stabilize the situation?"

"No comment."

"Excuse me, will there be any changes to the border policy?"

"No comment!"

The official ducked into the car and slammed the door shut with a BANG. The car sped off, leaving the reporter standing there.

Werner turned off the TV, walked to the window, and looked down at the street below.

There were far more people on the street than usual.

Some were rushing along, others were gathered on street corners in discussion, and some were loading things into cars. A strange atmosphere hung in the air, a mix of tension and excitement.

’Two more days.’

’In two days, the Berlin Wall will fall, East Germany will disappear, and a new era will begin.’

***************

November 9th, Thursday, 6:00 PM.

Werner sat in his office at Koko. A television was on the desk, and on the screen, the East German Government’s press conference was underway.

There were three other people in the office: the financial director, the deputy director of procurement, and a young clerk from some unknown department. They were all staring at the TV screen, not saying a word.

The spokesman, Sabovsky, sat behind the lectern, a pile of documents in front of him, his face etched with exhaustion.

"...According to the latest decision of the Council of Ministers..." Sabovsky fumbled through the papers, stammering as he read, "East German citizens may cross all border checkpoints... uh... to travel to the Federal Republic of Germany or West Berlin..."

The reporters below the stage began to stir.

An Italian reporter raised his hand. "Excuse me, when does this regulation take effect?"

Sabovsky froze for a moment, then looked down at his papers, shuffling through them for what felt like an eternity. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his finger slid across the pages. He was clearly unfamiliar with the document.

"Uh..." He looked up at the reporter. "As far as I know... immediately."

An uproar erupted from the reporters.

"Immediately?" another reporter pressed. "Are you saying it’s effective right now?"

Sabovsky hesitated, glanced down at the papers again, and then nodded. "Yes... immediately, without delay."

"So East German citizens can go to West Berlin right now?"

"Yes... according to this regulation..." Sabovsky wiped the sweat from his brow. "The specific... the specific procedure... uh... requires an application for a permit... but..."

"But what?"

"But..." Sabovsky looked flustered. "My understanding is... it takes effect immediately."

On the screen, reporters began to scribble frantically in their notebooks, and some were already rushing out of the conference room.

Werner stared at the television screen and slowly sat up straight.

"He... what did he say?" the financial director stammered.

"He said the travel regulations are effective immediately," Werner said calmly.

"But... but how is that possible?" The deputy director of procurement’s voice trembled. "No transition period? No application process? Just like that... effective immediately?"

"That’s what he said," Werner said.

The broadcast cut back to the studio. The news anchor was repeating the announcement, but her voice was trembling too.

"...According to the new regulations just announced by Comrade Sabovsky, East German citizens can immediately pass through border checkpoints to travel to West Germany or West Berlin..."

The office fell deathly silent.

The young clerk suddenly shot to his feet and dashed for the door.

"Where are you going?" the financial director shouted.

"The border! I’m going to the border!" the young clerk yelled without looking back. "I’m going to West Berlin!"

He bolted out of the office, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The financial director and the deputy director of procurement stared at each other, then they also stood up and left in a hurry.

Soon, Werner was the only one left in the office.

He turned off the TV, stood up, and walked to the window, looking down at the street below.

A commotion was already starting on the street. People were pouring out of buildings, running in the direction of the checkpoints. The blare of car horns rose and fell, and the streets quickly became gridlocked.

Werner glanced at his watch. It was 6:53 PM.

At this exact moment in history, because of his unfamiliarity with the document, Sabovsky had mistakenly announced that the travel regulations were "effective immediately." In reality, the regulation was supposed to take effect the next morning and required a prior application for a permit.

But that single mistake changed everything.

Werner grabbed his coat, turned off the office lights, locked the door, and walked out of the building.

On the street, more and more people were surging toward the checkpoints. Some were running, some were cheering, some were crying. The sounds of car horns, shouts, and laughter blended into a single roar.

Werner got into his Volvo, started the engine, and drove slowly toward the Friedrichstrasse checkpoint.

On the way, he saw countless cars heading in the same direction.

On the sidewalks, crowds swelled like a tide, excitement and disbelief written on every face.

"The Wall is opening!"

"We can go to West Berlin!"

"Hurry! Hurry! Don’t miss it!"

*************

7:30 PM.

Werner parked his car three blocks from the Friedrichstrasse checkpoint.

It was impossible to drive any further; the entire street was choked with people and cars.

He got out, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the car door, watching the checkpoint from a distance.

The crowd was still growing, pouring in from all directions like rivers converging into an ocean.

They pressed against the front of the checkpoint, hands in the air, shouting a chant:

"Open the gate!"

"Open the gate!"

"We want to cross!"

The guards at the checkpoint stood behind the barrier, their faces tense, completely at a loss.

They kept radioing their superiors for instructions, but it was clear they weren’t receiving any clear orders.

Werner walked toward the checkpoint, squeezing into the crowd.

Next to him was a young couple. The husband had his arm around his wife’s shoulders, and both were trembling with excitement.

"Can we really cross?" the wife asked.

"Yes! The news said it’s effective immediately!" the husband said. "We can finally go to West Berlin!"

"But the guards haven’t opened the gate yet..."

"They will, they will!"

The crowd grew denser. Werner pushed forward with effort, managing to get to the third row from the barrier.

Ahead, two guards were arguing heatedly about something.

One was a young soldier, his face pale, holding a rifle with the muzzle pointed down. The other was an officer, probably in his forties, his face flushed red, shouting into his radio.

"I told you, I need a clear directive!" the officer roared. "Are we opening the gate or not? Just give me the word!"

Static crackled from the radio, but it was impossible to make out what was being said.

The officer shouted a few more times, then helplessly lowered the radio and turned to the young soldier. "They said to wait for orders."

"Wait until when?" The young soldier’s voice was shaking. "Sir, look at these people... They’re about to rush us..."

"I know! I fucking know!" the officer swore, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But without orders, I can’t open the gate!"

The crowd’s mood grew more intense. Someone started violently shaking the barrier, creating a harsh, metallic clang.

"Open the gate!"

"Let us go!"

"You have no right to stop us!"

A middle-aged man rushed to the barrier and pointed at the officer, shouting, "The news said it’s effective immediately! What gives you the right to keep the gate closed?"

"I need to wait for orders!" the officer yelled back.

"What orders? Huh? Are your orders to stop us for the rest of our lives?"

"I told you, wait for the announcement!"

The crowd began to push and shove. The barrier shook more and more violently. The young soldier’s hand, gripping his rifle, was trembling, but he didn’t dare raise the weapon.

"Sir..." he said, his voice quavering. "If... if they really rush us..."

"Shut up!" the officer roared.

8:00 PM.

The crowd had grown beyond counting. The entire Friedrichstrasse was packed solid, stretching from the checkpoint all the way to an intersection two kilometers away.

Werner was squeezed in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by countless anxious faces. Some people were crying, some were laughing, and some were praying.

"Mama, when can we go across?" a little girl asked, tugging on her mother’s hand.

"Soon, baby, soon," her mother said, but tears were rolling down her cheeks.

9:00 PM.

The officer radioed a dozen more times but still received no clear answer. His expression grew uglier, and the sweat on his forehead increased.

"Commander Yeager, what do we do?" the young soldier asked.

The officer, Yeager, didn’t answer. He just stared at the massive crowd before him, his hands clenched into tight fists.

The crowd began to chant in unison:

"Open the gate! Open the gate! Open the gate!"

The sound was like thunder, rising in waves, each one louder than the last.

10:00 PM.

Yeager finally put down the radio. He turned to the young soldier, his eyes filled with exhaustion and resignation.

"Steve, go to the control room," he said in a low voice.

Steve froze. "Sir?"

"I said, go to the control room." Yeager closed his eyes. "Open the barrier."

"But... but we still don’t have orders from above..."

"I said, open the barrier!" Yeager’s eyes snapped open, red-rimmed. "Look at these people! Look at their eyes! If we don’t open it, they will rush us! People will die! A lot of people will die! Do you want to see that happen?"

Steve gritted his teeth, turned, and ran toward the control room.

Yeager stood before the barrier, looking at the massive crowd in front of him, and took a deep breath.

10:30 PM.

The barrier began to rise slowly.

The crowd froze for a second, then erupted in a deafening cheer.

"It’s open! It’s open!"

"We can go through!"

"Thank God!"

Werner was carried forward by the crowd, surrounded by countless ecstatic faces. Some were crying, some were laughing, some were hugging, some were kissing.

An old woman knelt on the ground, her hands clasped together, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you... thank you..."

A young man rushed past the barrier, turned back, and screamed, "I’m free! I’m fucking free!"

The human tide surged through the checkpoint like a bursting dam.

The guards stood on either side, watching helplessly. No one tried to stop the flow.

Yeager stood in front of the control room, quietly watching the crowd pour through.

Steve came to his side. "Sir, are we... are we doing the right thing?"

Yeager didn’t answer, just watched the cheering people, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," he finally said. "This is the rightest decision I’ve ever made in my life."