Chapter 360 - 5: East German Refugees in Prague

Chapter 360: Chapter 5: East German Refugees in Prague

Werner stood on the street corner opposite the embassy, taking in the scene.

Outside the embassy’s courtyard walls, a dense crowd had formed.

East Germans, supporting the old and carrying the young, clutched meager luggage as they waited under the scorching sun.

Some had pitched tents; others slept directly on the ground. The cries of infants, the shouts of children, and the hushed conversations of adults blended into a cacophony of background noise.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, smoke, and an indefinable scent of despair.

Along the embassy’s perimeter wall lay discarded Trabant car keys, tossed aside by East Germans. The owners knew they couldn’t take their cars with them; their only choice was to abandon them and climb the wall into the embassy.

The streets of Prague were filled with abandoned Trabants.

"What a fucking spectacle."

Werner turned and saw a colleague from Koko—Heinz, a bald man in his forties with a large belly. He had also come under the guise of a "foreign trade inspector."

"It’s complete chaos," Heinz said, wiping away sweat, his face filled with disgust. "These traitors have lost their minds. Abandoning their own country to go be dogs for the capitalists."

Werner said nothing. His gaze swept over the crowd, and he saw too many familiar faces.

The young mother holding a child was a client he had helped last year.

The old man with graying hair was an engineer from a factory in Leipzig whom he knew.

And the gaunt middle-aged man was a former subordinate of his.

All of them had chosen to flee.

"Let’s go. We need to see Deputy Minister Bauer," Heinz urged.

Werner followed him through several streets to an old building near the Czech government building. This was the Stasi’s secret base in Prague.

In an office on the third floor, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Bauer was in a meeting with an official from the Czech government and a representative from the Stasi.

"The situation is terrible," said the Czech official, a tired-looking, middle-aged man with glasses. "There are over three thousand people in the embassy now, with more than a thousand more queuing outside. Our police can’t control the situation at all." ℯℯ𝑙.

"Why not just arrest them?" the Stasi representative, a colonel named Miller, said coldly. "These people entered illegally, violating the laws of the Czech Republic. They should be arrested immediately and repatriated to East Germany."

"You think we don’t want to?" The Czech official took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. "The problem is, arresting over three thousand people? Do you have any idea how many police that would require? Besides, if we make a move, people will certainly die. The world’s media will be watching. How would we explain that?"

"Furthermore, the West German embassy is West German territory; we can’t force our way in. And the West German Government has already issued a statement saying these people have the right to apply for political asylum."

Bauer had been listening in silence. Now he spoke. "Gentlemen, the East German Government’s position is clear—these people are traitors and must return to East Germany to face legal retribution. But..." He paused. "We also don’t want this to escalate and affect the unity of the socialist camp."

"So what are you suggesting?" the Czech official asked.

"We hope to negotiate with the West German Government," Bauer said. "To resolve this problem through some form of... compromise."

Miller shot to his feet. "What? Compromise? Comrade Bauer, what are you talking about? How can we compromise with traitors?"

"Sit down," Bauer said coldly. "Colonel Miller, do you think I want to compromise? But look outside—over three thousand people! Have you considered the consequences if we arrest them by force? What will international opinion be? How will West Germany react?"

Miller gritted his teeth and sat down, his face livid.

Bauer turned to Werner. "Betelich, you will stay here for a few days and assist the Czech government in maintaining order. Remember, keep a low profile and do not escalate the conflict. We need time to negotiate with West Germany."

"Understood," Werner said.

After the meeting, Werner and Heinz walked out of the building.

"Compromise?" Heinz scoffed. "Bauer’s gotten old and soft. These traitors should be rounded up and shot, one by one."

Werner still said nothing.

He thought, ’Bauer is perfectly aware that East Germany has already lost control of the situation.’

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

For the next few days, Werner observed the scene outside the embassy every day.

His mission was to "coordinate," but in reality, it was to record: how many people there were, where they came from, and what their demands were. He would then report this information to Bauer.

He didn’t get too close, instead renting a temporary office in a building across from the embassy. From the window, he could observe the embassy with binoculars.

Through his binoculars, Werner could see the scene in the embassy courtyard.

Tents were packed so densely they almost covered the entire courtyard. People sat on the ground or leaned against the walls. Some were standing in line—probably for the toilets. The West German embassy diplomats were scrambling, with some handing out bread and water.

Werner saw a West German diplomat in a shirt with his sleeves rolled up, handing out candy to children. The children surrounded him, holding out their small hands.

One wall, two different worlds.

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

On the afternoon of the third day, Werner was standing under a tree outside the embassy when he ran into an acquaintance.

"Mr. Werner?"

Werner turned to see a man in his thirties. His shirt was wrinkled and he was unshaven, but Werner still recognized him.

"Peter?" Werner frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Peter Hoffman. He was once a very capable project manager in Koko’s procurement department, and Werner had even promoted him. But last year, Peter had suddenly resigned, saying he wanted a "change of scenery."

Now Werner understood. The "change of scenery" Peter had mentioned meant running off to West Germany.

"I..." Peter gave a wry smile. "Mr. Betelich, I didn’t expect to run into you here. Are you here to arrest us?"

"I don’t arrest people," Werner said, lighting a cigarette. "I’m just here to assess the situation."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, but his eyes remained wary.

"Why did you run?" Werner asked. "You were doing well at Koko. The pay wasn’t bad, and you had rations."

Peter was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed, a bitter laugh. "Mr. Betelich, I just... didn’t want to be here anymore."

Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke and said nothing.

"Mr. Betelich," Peter said, looking at him, "I know you’re not like the other officials. You helped a lot of people during your years at Koko. Everyone knows you’re a reasonable man. So I want to ask you—do you really believe this country still has any hope?"

Werner looked into Peter’s eyes. The young man’s gaze was filled with disappointment and despair.

"I don’t know," Werner said finally. "But I do know that everyone has the right to choose their own path in life."

Peter was taken aback for a moment, and his eyes grew red. "Thank you, Mr. Betelich. Really, thank you."

"Don’t thank me," Werner said, stubbing out his cigarette. "Just live a good life."

He turned and walked away.

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

On September 10th, news arrived—Hungary had officially announced the opening of its border with Austria.

Werner was in his temporary office in Prague when he received a call from Laszlo.

"Werner, big news!" Laszlo’s voice trembled with excitement. "The Hungarian government just announced it—they’ve officially opened the border with Austria! Starting today, East German citizens can pass through freely!"

Werner’s hand tightened on the receiver.

’It’s happening. The most critical step in the course of history.’