Berlin, August 25, 1934—Tomorrow begins a new chapter for me...
So began William Shirer’s journal entry upon his arrival in the capital of Hitler’s Third Reich. Shirer had left a rather mediocre post with the New York Herald in Paris to become the Universal News Service’s Berlin correspondent. Returning to Berlin for the first time since its decadent Weimarer Republik days, he was struck by what seemed a complete transformation of the place. While he previously had sat up long nights with German friends in bars, cafes and their studios discussing politics, art and literature, sex, music, the meaning of existence and other provocative topics, he found many of the same people—most of whom had been liberals, artists, students, socialists or communists—now infected with Nazism.
Shirer’s former friends mostly praised the rebirth of the German Vaterland under National Socialism and the firm guidance of the Fuehrer. As good Germans they valued the return of respect for authority and the honoring of basic Teutonic traditions. Glad to see a recovery from the nation’s shameful humiliation at Versailles, they seemed for the most part to tolerate shortages of some consumer goods, censorship and the enforced lack of general freedom in exchange for a reinvigorated German spirit. Shirer found these people exceptionally depressing. Those who disapproved of the “New Germany,” however, distrustfully watched what they said out of fear of being silenced—like so many others already had been—and subsequently remained invisible.
After Shirer returned to Germany his first assignment took him to Nuernberg to cover the annual Nazi Party rally, which he found to be “the best possible introduction to the nightmarish world Adolf Hitler was beginning to create in his adopted land.” For a full week in September the amazed reporter watched as by day tens of thousands of uniformed party leaders and SA and SS troopers euphorically cheered Hitler while he screamed of a resurgent Germany which would assume its rightful place as the leader among nations. By night Shirer listened to the roar of jackboots marching through the narrow, medieval streets in torch lit processions. For the rally the Nazis scripted arousing speeches and staged impressive military displays and powerful rituals of an almost spiritual nature; they exploited fully the Gothic, archetypal-Germanic environment of Nuernberg to create an effective atmosphere of national might steeped in German history. They then sold this spectacle to the rest of the nation through Joseph Goebbels’ propaganda machine as proof of restored German strength and superiority.
Shirer saw Hitler for the first time on 4 September—only ten days after his arrival in Nazi Germany—as the Fuehrer arrived after dark at the Deutscher Hof, his favorite hotel in Nuernberg. Apparently saving his energy for what would be a long, tiring week of tantrums, tirades and endless processions, the expressionless Hitler offered the waiting hordes a weak Nazi salute and disappeared inside the hotel. The people—who had been chanting “We want our Fuehrer!”—became ecstatic when Hitler made a brief appearance on the balcony and waved. Women swooned and many people surged forward to get a closer glimpse of Hitler, trampling others in their way. The complete devotion of the crowds, the blind adoration of “this vulgar, uneducated, fanatically bigoted Austrian” dumbfounded Shirer—reminding him of Holy Rollers he had once seen in rural Arkansas and Louisiana with the same “crazed expression on their faces.”
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