Nuremberg
prelude to a cloak and dagger, guerilla-journalism presentation
I was going to post a third installment of our England road trip, but we have to jump a head a bit here. This weekend I’m going to post two videos dealing with uncomfortable truths about World War 2 and the first will be on the Nuremberg trials, so for a little teaser today’s post is about our day in Nuremberg. Don’t worry, I’m not done with Merry England. We still have to navigate the barren Yorkshire Moors, skulk through the foggy streets of coastal Whitby, cross the mighty Humber and visit grand Lincoln Cathedral. Hopefully I’ll find my lost Yorkshire flat cap before I write about it, to get me in the mood. On to Nuremberg. Here’s the Nuremberg Castle:
I actually went with Andy to the Palace of Justice in Nuremberg and did my report right in front of the entrance to the courts. Certainly what I said aloud, in earshot of anyone within fifteen or twenty meters, could have been used against me in a modern German court, where crime speak is still punished severely to this day.
But let’s back up a day and start on the A5 heading south. When we get close to Heidelberg, we’ll turn East toward northern Bavaria.
Driving the Autobahn is good fun, but you have to be on your toes. Driving a stick means you often have to downshift before getting in the passing lane. You’ll need the RPMs to get around the truck and back to the right lane when those Benz’, Audis and Beamers come along. Heck, all the newer cars are fast these days- I was passed by every make and model, including quite a few Skodas (Czech VW). Didn’t get passed by any Polish delivery trucks, however. Rammed yes; passed no.
The drive to Nuremberg took about 3 hours. We stayed at a cheap, hostelish place in one of the apartment project buildings next to the Messe (convention center). It was bare bones with shared shower but clean and we had our own room. I went in the communal kitchen, just snooping around, and met a guy whose German came with a thick accent.
Dan-Where are you from?
Maksym-Ukraine.
Dan-Ah.
Max-And you?
D-America.
M-America- beautiful.
D-Yeah, it is.
I didn’t feel like describing Aurora Ave. in Seattle or Reserve St. here in Missoula so I let it go at that (and who knows, he was young, appeared of meager means and could have come front the Eastern Front; after describing strip mall/box store/food franchise hell me might say, “Sounds nice! I’ve always wanted to go to Chick-Fil-A!”)
You’re of course curious about the price of stuff in Nuremberg. As we were in the projects where students, pensioners and refugees of various nations lived, there were some cheap options. Here’s the menu at Gaststätte Pavarotti, in the commons area next to apartment block D4:
Here’s the magazine rack at the convenience store. This gave me some nostalgia because it looked just like a rack out of a kiosk from the 80s, and I thought all this stuff was dead, thanks to smart phones and the NYT online puzzle section. Never thought I’d say it, but Long live crossword booklets and tabloids!
After our schnitzels we hopped on an U-Bahn (U for underground railway- and I put the ‘n’ on the indefinite article because in German you say “ooh”, not “you”) and headed into town. Our first stop was the Luitpoldhain. Do you recognize this?
Stands for 50,000 spectators and up to 150,000 participants on the grounds. Those pictures of the rallies in Nuremberg make the place look enormous. Do school gymnasiums seem bigger to you when there’s a basketball game with a band and cheerleaders and the bleachers are full, or when it’s silent, empty and cavernous? They seem much bigger to me when they are full of people. I’m gymuinely curious about this.
Here’s what the Luitpold Grove looks like now, without the endless ranks of Hugo-Boss attired, goose-stepping SS:
I didn’t ask the fisherman here where Adolf stood to address the throngs at the pep rallies; you never know in Germany. Gotta be careful bringing up those old wounds I guess. Anyway, I was pretty sure it was from the big, concrete patio and structure with arches across the field. We walked around the fishing line, taking the path in the trees. And there it was.
Andy turned back toward the grounds and saw this:
But he was imagining this:
Taking the Fuhrer’s position, Andy tried to imagine what he would have said:
…and listen, if you have ‘em cornered at Dunkirk, for goodness sake don’t wuss out and let them get away!
…and just ignore me if I tell you to march to Moscow. It’s 2,200 kilometers through the marsh or the snow, for crying out loud.
…but just in case we do march to Moscow everyone here will be matched with a pen-pal in Japan. Remember, they are a poetic bunch- encourage them to march to the setting sun, not sail to the rising sun!
We strolled around the now-peaceful park, trying to imagine the scenes here from the 30’s. I looked at my watch and realized we only had a few minutes before our 2-hour subway ticket would expire. On the way out I took one more look at the Ehrenhalle (Hall of Honor):
As it was getting late, we’d have to skip the old town and head straight for the Palace of Justice, where I’d do my Nuremberg Trials presentation. Too bad because there’s a lot to see in Nuremberg: the Castle, Albrecht Dürer's House, the Old City walls, the St. Lorenz church. Oh well, next time.
Here is where the fair-minded Brits, the not-at-all vengeful French, the gentle Russians, and the Constitution/Rule-of-Law-inspired Americans administered perfect justice. Luckily, nobody bothered us, except for at the end of my presentation when a uniformed official in some kind of public vehicle with yellow stripes and an emergency light on top slowed down and glared at us a bit before driving on. I made it to the end of my presentation without incident. Film was in the can and we high tailed it out of there.
Next: Judgement at Nuremberg!