Chapter 359 - 4: Witnessing the Collapse

Chapter 359: Chapter 4: Witnessing the Collapse

"We have to take this opportunity," Werner said. "We have to find a way to let our clients know about this."

"Tell them directly?" Laszlo was a little worried. "Wouldn’t that be too obvious?"

"Not directly," Werner said. "Print some flyers. Say there’s a music festival in Schoplang on August nineteenth. Just make them look like normal tourist promotional materials. They’ll understand."

"Brilliant." Laszlo gave him a thumbs-up. "Even if the Stasi finds out, they can’t say we’re inciting defections."

For the next week, flyers appeared in every corner of Budapest—by Lake Balaton, in Heroes’ Square, on Vaci Street, and in the cheap hotels where East German tourists often stayed.

Werner’s clients received these flyers as well.

The flyers, written in German and Hungarian, read: "Lake Balaton Summer Music Festival—August 19, Schoplang, Pan-European Peace Picnic. All friends who love freedom are welcome to attend."

Below that was a line of small print: "Free beer and sausages will be provided on-site."

When the East Germans saw the flyers, many understood the implied meaning.

"Pan-European Picnic," "Schoplang," "border"—these words combined held a profound meaning.

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

August nineteenth. A historic day had arrived.

At two in the afternoon, Werner and Laszlo drove to a small town near the border between Hungary and Austria.

They didn’t get too close, just observed from a distance at a café in town.

The streets were already packed with people.

Hungarians, Austrians, and East Germans. The air was thick with a mixture of tension and excitement.

"So many people," Laszlo said in a low voice. "There must be at least a few thousand."

Werner nodded without a word.

He saw some familiar faces in the crowd—some of the clients who had consulted with him.

They blended into the crowd, pretending to "participate in the picnic," but in reality, their eyes were fixed on the border.

At exactly three in the afternoon, the ceremony began.

Officials from Hungary and Austria gave speeches on either side of the border, spouting platitudes about "European unity" and "peaceful friendship." Then, under everyone’s watchful eyes, a gate in the barbed-wire fence was opened.

It was just an ordinary iron gate, usually locked tight, now opened symbolically.

At first, no one moved.

The Hungarian Border Guard stood to the side, rifles in hand, their expressions wary.

The Austrian border police were also on standby on the other side. The crowd was silent, the air seemingly frozen.

Then, a young man moved.

He was in his early twenties, wearing the gray jacket most common in East Germany, and he walked hesitantly toward the gate. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back.

Someone in the crowd shouted in a low voice, "Run!"

The young man gritted his teeth, suddenly accelerated, and burst through the iron gate.

The Hungarian Border Guard raised their guns but didn’t pull the triggers.

The young man ran to the Austrian side, fell to his knees, and began to cry his heart out.

This scene ignited the entire crowd.

A second person rushed through, then a third, a fourth—then dozens, hundreds.

The East Germans surged toward the gate like a bursting dam.

Women ran, holding their children. The elderly ran, leaning on canes. Young people ran, supporting the old.

Some fell, got up, and kept running. Some lost their shoes and ran on in their bare feet.

Cries, shouts, and laughter mingled into one.

The Hungarian Border Guard stood there, watching the crowd surge past them, their guns never raised. A few soldiers even had smiles on their faces, and one young soldier was wiping away tears.

Werner watched it all from the café, a lump forming in his throat.

He saw Marcus’s family—Marcus was carrying Emma on his back, with Lieselotte gripping his hand tightly as the three of them ran through the crowd. Emma’s doll fell, and Lieselotte bent down to pick it up, but Marcus pulled her along. "Leave it, run!"

He saw an elderly couple, supporting each other as they walked across the border line.

Halfway across, the old woman suddenly stopped, looking back toward Hungary with tears streaming down her face. The old man pulled her. "Let’s go. Home... is no longer over there."

He saw countless faces—filled with fear, excitement, despair, and hope.

Those faces converged into a torrent, breaking through the Iron Curtain.

Laszlo sat across from him, his hand holding the glass trembling.

"My God," he murmured. "My God."

Werner took a deep breath, suppressing the roiling emotions in his chest.

He knew this was just the beginning.

Three hours later, the ceremony ended, and the iron gate was closed again.

But by then, more than six hundred East Germans had escaped into Austria.

When the news reached East Berlin, Anger was furious.

He called the Hungarian leaders, demanding they "immediately repatriate the escapees and severely punish those who condoned their actions."

Hungary’s reply was simple: "These people are in Austria now. We have no control over them."

Anger slammed down the phone.

That evening, the New German Newspaper rushed out a special edition with the front-page headline: "Hungary’s Betrayal."

But it was no use.

News of the Pan-European Picnic spread like wildfire throughout East Germany.

People began frantically applying to "travel" to Hungary, and visa applications piled up at the border departments.

Werner and Laszlo’s business also entered a frantic phase.

Goods were taken from the warehouse as soon as they arrived, and Laszlo had to urgently order more supplies.

Evan and the others had to make several trips to the border every day, and they were dog-tired.

"It’s insane," Laszlo said to Werner over the phone. "Werner, we got over three hundred people out last month. Over three hundred! And that’s just the ones who went through us. Many more are escaping on their own."

"It can’t be stopped," Werner said. "Laszlo, this is history. You’re witnessing history."

"Really?" Laszlo asked. "Everyone says East Germany is stable, that the Berlin Wall is impenetrable."

Werner was silent for a few seconds, then said, "The Roman Empire was once impenetrable, but it still fell. A wall is the same—it looks solid, but if the people’s will is broken, it can collapse overnight."

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

When Werner returned to East Berlin, he found the border checks at the airport were much stricter than before.

Every traveler returning from Hungary had their luggage searched and was questioned about where they had been and who they had met.

When it was Werner’s turn, the Border Guard officer stared at his passport for a long time.

"Werner Betelich. From Koko." The officer looked up. "What were you doing in Budapest?"

"Work," Werner said, his expression unchanging. "Market research, negotiating orders."

"What did you bring back?"

"Trade documents and samples." Werner opened his briefcase. "It’s all in here. Do you need to check?"

The officer flipped through them; they were all normal business documents. He hesitated for a moment before finally stamping the passport. "Go on. Next time, remember to report your travel in advance."

"Of course."

Walking out of the airport, Werner breathed a sigh of relief. ’It seems the East German Government is on high alert.’

For the next few days, he focused on Koko’s affairs, trying his best to act as if everything was normal.

But the entire atmosphere in East Berlin had changed.

There were far fewer people on the streets—many had already fled.

Several of Werner’s Koko colleagues who had "gone on a business trip to Hungary" never came back.

Director Gunter called an emergency meeting and issued a stern warning to all employees: "No one is to travel to Hungary without approval. Violators will be fired. In serious cases, you will be handed over to the Stasi."

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

「Late August. Prague.」

Werner received orders to travel to Prague under the identity of a "Senior Inspector for the Ministry of Foreign Trade" to "coordinate trade affairs."

It was a cover identity. In private, Director Gunter had told him, "Go to Prague and see what the situation is at the embassy. Document it, but don’t get involved. Keep a low profile."

Werner understood. As an extremely secret shadow organization, Koko couldn’t appear publicly to handle a political crisis. He had to use his public identity from the Ministry of Foreign Trade as cover.

On August twenty-eighth, Werner arrived in Prague.

Throughout the summer, border controls in the countries surrounding East Germany had grown progressively looser. Tens of thousands of East Germans had poured into Czechoslovakia, trying to find a way into the West German embassy in Prague—as long as they stepped through the embassy gates, they would be on West German soil, with a chance to escape East Germany.

Since August, the situation had spiraled out of control. The embassy was overflowing, and the leadership in Berlin was at its wit’s end.

Near Wenceslas Square, outside the West German embassy to Czechoslovakia, thousands of people had already gathered.