A brook so narrow you scarcely got your feet wet divided a settlement for more than four decades of time. Because of a chance of landscape, the half a hundred locals of Mödlareuth, a small village encircled by evergreen groves, fields and spectacular vistas, found themselves at the core of the Cold War conflict. They had the unfortunate circumstance to span Bavaria, in Western Germany, and Thuringia in the East, a frontier that was demarcated first by a fence and then by a barricade. United States military personnel nicknamed it Little Berlin.
Months after their own barrier was torn down, and before their country had reunified in 1990, a collection of villagers started memorialising their history. The effort is about to reach completion: on 9 November, the 36th anniversary of the collapse of the Berlin Wall, the Deutsch-Deutsches Museum Mödlareuth will inaugurate. It was officially inaugurated by the head of state, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, in the beginning of October, but the exhibition was not completely ready. Addressing the residents who endured the past era, Steinmeier remarked: “You were bystanders of an brutal split, which tore families asunder and turned neighbours into foreigners.”
“You were observers of an cruel split, which pulled relatives apart and turned local residents into strangers.”
Starting at its founding in 1810, the village spanned the Bavarian Kingdom and the Reuss Principality, a royal family most famous for bestowing all its men the name Heinrich and numbering them consecutively by birth order. As Steinmeier told the audience, the quirk was never an obstacle in the path of the residents drinking in the very same tavern, going to the identical church and placing their young ones to the very same school.
Then came the World War II. The moment they came, the Russian troops erected wooden posts by the stream. For a year they seized the complete community, creating their control center in a building on the western side, embellishing it with a portrait of Stalin and a red star. The US forces persuaded them to retreat to the other side of the stream. For a time, locals could continue to hop over, though as limitations increased they were obliged to present identity papers, despite the fact that all was aware who they were, and to return at night.
After that, in 1952, came wire fencing and the official sealing of the border. In 1966, as in Berlin half a decade before, a wall was built, with explosives, vehicle barriers and guard posts. The residents could continue to see each other by climbing elevations, but on the Soviet side signaling and shouting were banned. One woman was put on a GDR intelligence watch list for answering “likewise” to a Bavarian resident who wished her “good new year”.
I heard narratives including these by Robert Lebegern, the director of the museum, who has spent a significant portion of his working life creating it. Villagers were polled early on about how what length of structure they wanted to maintain. They chose a portion on the western edge, near where one of their own succeeded to flee in the dead of night with a ladder, subsequently the boundary was substantially fortified.
Two watchtowers are preserved in addition to a series of displays depicting the most impactful moments in the community’s history. As we stroll, Robert Lebegern lists the restrictions: nobody could get closer than 5km of the border. Farmers had to obtain particular approval to tend to their crops; the husband or wife could use the harvesting machine but never the pair, for fear that they tried to escape. Military personnel kept guard.
The boundary between the Federal Republic and the East Germany ran 1,400km, from the Baltic coast in the north to this location in the southern region. Berlin is recalled and memorialised the most frequently, but over two times more individuals (well over 300) died trying to cross it in rural areas than in the metropolis. the director reminds me that 95% of attempts to flee failed.
The majority of Mödlareuth’s locals were agricultural workers or skilled workers, who adapted to dwelling in the uncertain territory between two political systems by avoiding attention and caring for their fields. They nor did they endorsed the East German authorities nor fought it, Robert Lebegern explains.
For sightseers, however, the village became a type of site of interest. Roughly 15k visited every year, binoculars in their hands, to stare – and then rapidly depart. In 1983, the United States leader, George Bush, was shown around by the German defence minister.
Twenty-five years after unification, the TV show, a broadcast production about a made-up village similar to Mödlareuth, resulted in renewed interest.
The opening of the modern exhibition center – with a cafe, boutique, movie theater and big vehicle area – is probable to