I evolved of rock, steel, and distrust. Brick by brick, they raised me from a ramshackle to a sui generis wall of History, yet a scar across Berlin, cutting laughter from sorrow, families from families. They called me protection, order, peace. And every night, as floodlights hummed and the garrulous guards marched in apathy, I listened to muffled weeping on both sides, noting the tiny irregularities, the glitches in the rhythm of fear.
I remember the day. White clouds drifted like soft brushstrokes across a vast cerulean 1964 sky. The lovers came panting. She seemed tempestuous, restlessly pressing her gloved hand against me, undulant breath fogging in the cold. On the other side, almost aligned, he mirrored her, but looked braver and winsome. Two shadows leaning in, as if longing alone could break concrete.
“Liebling,” she whispered.
“Ich warte.” His reply muffled, but certain.
“Bald. Ganz bald.”
They returned night after night. I learned their rhythm, the scrape of his boots, the flutter of her scarf. Their outlandish secrets seeped into me: her trepidations, his whispered plans, their callow defiance, promises to defy the world that had turned me into their warder.
Then came their attempt. Their future hung in a nebulous haze.
He arrived first, empty-handed but determined. She followed with a small bundle, letters, perhaps, or photographs, their history wrapped in cloth. Their plan was simple, foolish, brave, and ostentatious: rope, ladder, a sprint through shadow. I wanted to warn them. The towers see all. Their audacity was flagrant, a glaring defiance, daring the order I was built to uphold. But I was only a wall in a labyrinth of stone and fear.
He climbed first, fingers scraping my skin, heart pounding so loud I felt it through me. She followed, trembling but resolute. Halfway up, the bundle slipped, scattering papers like pale birds at my base. Still, they pressed on. For a moment, they stood on my crown, two silhouettes against the dark.
Then the searchlight swung with incisive acuity. Shouts tore the silence with verbose commands of “Halt! Stillstehen!!” A dog tore through the shadows, barking with savage hunger. Gunfire erupted, splintering the silence into shards of terror.
He fell first, crumpling against my western side. She tumbled back east; a scream ripped from her throat. The brouhaha of boots, dogs, and shouts flared, then faded. Silence returned, heavier than before.
For though I was built to divide, I could never erase the stubborn force of love that dared to cross me. And yet, over time, even their presence suffered a slow diminution, absorbed into the vast sweep of history, their immutable stories softened by the passage of years and the skullduggery of those who rewrote the egregious past to suit their triumphs.
Later, they would cloak such defiance in a euphemism, calling it “unfortunate circumstances.” Years later, when hammers struck and crowds cried “Freiheit! Freiheit!,” I remembered them. In the thousands of faces celebrating my fall, I searched for theirs. Perhaps they had survived, perhaps not.
Glossary: German words
Liebling- Darling
Ich Warte- I am Waiting
Bald. Ganz bald- Soon, Very Soon
Stillstehen!-Stand Still
Freiheit- freedom
pc: Immo Wegmann/Unsplash
