An creek so narrow you hardly got your feet wet divided a community for over four decades of time. Due to a quirk of geography, the half a hundred locals of Mödlareuth, a hamlet encircled by pine forests, pastures and spectacular scenery, found themselves at the core of the Cold War conflict. They had the unfortunate circumstance to straddle Bavaria, in West Germany, and Thuringia in the Soviet sector, a boundary that was marked first by a fence and then by a barricade. United States military personnel nicknamed it Mini Berlin.
Several months after their own barrier was breached, and even before their country had become one in 1990, a group of local people began commemorating their past. The effort is soon to reach completion: on 9 November, the 36th remembrance of the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Deutsch-Deutsches Museum Mödlareuth will open. It was formally inaugurated by the national president, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, in early October, but the display was not entirely ready. Addressing the villagers who lived through the past era, Steinmeier stated: “You were observers of an cruel separation, which tore relatives into pieces and turned local residents into aliens.”
“You were witnesses of an inhuman separation, which pulled relatives asunder and turned neighbors into aliens.”
Even at its creation in 1810, the community spanned the Bavarian Kingdom and the Principality of Reuss, a royal family most renowned for assigning all its men the designation Heinrich and labeling them in order by birth. As Steinmeier related to the crowd, the oddity was never an obstacle in the manner of the locals drinking in the identical tavern, going to the same church and placing their children to the same learning center.
Next arrived the second world war. Immediately after they came, the Soviet forces installed wooden posts by the stream. For a year they seized the whole hamlet, setting up their control center in a dwelling on the western side, adorning it with a image of Stalin and a red star. The American soldiers convinced them to pull back across the creek. For a period, villagers could still cross over, though as restrictions became stricter they were obliged to display identity papers, despite the fact that all knew who they were, and to return at evening.
Then, in 1952, came barbed wire and the official sealing of the border. In 1966, as in Berlin previously in 1961, a wall was built, with mines, anti-tank obstacles and observation points. The villagers could still observe each other by ascending elevations, but on the Soviet side waving and yelling were banned. A local woman was put on a Stasi monitoring list for answering “back at you” to a western resident who said her “good new year”.
It was related to me stories including these tales by Robert Lebegern, the director of the museum, who has devoted much of his occupational time developing it. Villagers were polled at an early stage about how how long a section wall they desired to keep. They selected a stretch on the western edge, adjacent to where one of their own succeeded to escape in the darkest hours with a climbing device, subsequently the border was heavily fortified.
2 watchtowers are conserved in addition to a series of displays illustrating the most dramatic moments in the village’s history. As we move, Lebergen lists the rules: no one could come within 5km of the boundary. Rural residents needed special permission to care for their crops; the husband or wife could work the agricultural equipment but not the pair, for fear that they tried to flee. Soldiers stood watch.
The boundary between the Federal Republic and the German Democratic Republic extended nearly 900 miles, from the Baltic Sea in the northern part to here in the south. Berlin is commemorated and documented the most, but over twice as many people (well over 300) lost their lives seeking to pass over it in rural areas than in the urban center. Lebegern reminds me that 95% of attempts to flee did not succeed.
Most of Mödlareuth’s residents were agricultural workers or craftsmen, who adapted to residing in the grey zone between two ideological spheres by avoiding attention and looking after their land. They neither backed the socialist government nor resisted it, Lebegern states.
For visitors, however, the settlement became a sort of pilgrimage. Approximately fifteen thousand came to visit each year, viewing tools in hand, to look – and then swiftly depart. In 1983, the American president, George Bush, was guided by the national security head.
25 years after unification, the television series, a TV series about a imaginary hamlet similar to Mödlareuth, led to fresh interest.
The launch of the recently established museum – with a coffee shop, boutique, movie theater and big parking lot – is probable to
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