An stream so low you scarcely got your ankles wet divided a community for over four decades worth of time. Due to a quirk of topography, the fifty inhabitants of Mödlareuth, a small village encircled by evergreen groves, meadows and breathtaking views, found themselves at the heart of the cold war. They had the unfortunate circumstance to straddle the Bavarian region, in the Federal Republic of Germany, and the Thuringian region in the Eastern part, a frontier that was marked first by a barrier and then by a barricade. US troops nicknamed it Mini Berlin.
A few months after their own barrier was opened, and prior to their country had unified again in 1990, a collection of residents started commemorating their heritage. The project is soon to come to fruition: on 9 November, the 36th annual commemoration of the demolition of the German barrier, the German-German Museum Mödlareuth will open. It was formally launched by the head of state, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, in early October, but the display was not completely ready. Telling the villagers who lived through the old days, Steinmeier said: “You were witnesses of an brutal split, which pulled relatives into pieces and turned local residents into aliens.”
“You were observers of an cruel division, which tore relatives apart and turned neighbors into aliens.”
Even at its establishment in 1810, the village cut across the Kingdom of Bavaria and the Principality of Reuss, a noble lineage best known for assigning all its men the designation Heinrich and labeling them consecutively by date of birth. As Steinmeier told the crowd, the quirk never stood in the path of the locals socializing in the same inn, visiting the identical church and enrolling their young ones to the same learning center.
Then came the World War II. Immediately after they appeared, the Soviet forces installed wood stakes by the stream. For a year they occupied the entire village, setting up their control center in a house on the Bavarian territory side, decorating it with a image of Stalin and a communist symbol. The Americans convinced them to retreat across the creek. For a period, locals could still hop over, though as limitations tightened they were required to present ID, despite the fact that each person was aware who they were, and to return at night.
Subsequently, in 1952, came wire fencing and the legal closing of the frontier. In 1966, as in Berlin half a decade before, a wall was constructed, with mines, vehicle barriers and watchtowers. The locals could still view each other by scaling elevations, but on the eastern side waving and shouting were prohibited. A local woman was placed on a GDR intelligence surveillance list for answering “back at you” to a West German local who wished her “good new year”.
I heard accounts like these incidents by Robert Lebegern, the director of the museum, who has spent a significant portion of his occupational time creating it. Locals were consulted early on about how how long a section structure they wished to keep. They selected a stretch on the western perimeter, near where a villager managed to escape in the dead of night with a climbing device, subsequently the border was substantially reinforced.
2 guard towers are maintained together with a collection of exhibits illustrating the most dramatic events in the community’s history. As we walk, the director enumerates the regulations: not a single person could approach 5km of the border. Agricultural workers had to obtain special permission to look after their fields; the partner could work the combine harvester but under no circumstances the two, lest they tried to escape. Military personnel were on duty.
The frontier between the Federal Republic and the East Germany stretched 1,400km, from the Baltic coast in the northern part to here in the south. Berlin is remembered and memorialised the greatest, but over twice as many people (well over 300) were killed seeking to cross it in countryside regions than in the big city. the director reminds me that 95 percent of efforts to cross failed.
The greater part of Mödlareuth’s villagers were rural laborers or craftsmen, who adjusted to living in the grey zone between 2 belief systems by keeping their heads down and tending to their fields. They neither endorsed the East German authorities nor resisted it, the director explains.
For tourists, however, the hamlet became a kind of pilgrimage. Approximately 15,000 came to visit every year, binoculars in hand, to stare – and then swiftly depart. In 1983, the United States leader, George Bush, was given a tour by the German defense official.
Twenty-five years after unification, the television series, a television program about a fictional community similar to Mödlareuth, resulted in new interest.
The launch of the modern exhibition center – with a restaurant, store, film screening area and big vehicle area – is expected to
A seasoned journalist specializing in UK political analysis with over a decade of experience covering Westminster and international relations.