[The following is taken from a memoir of Irmgard A. Hunt, who grew up in the mountains under Hitler’s Eagles Nest during the Second World War. In this excerpt, she outlines her mother’s experiences during the hyper-inflation of German currency in 1920s Weimar Germany.]
One warm day Mutti [German: Mom] decided to attend a labor-union rally during her lunch break. She listened to the speaker, thinking to herself that he was right: workers should rebel against their exploitation and unite in a general strike. She returned to the factory floor, studied the troubled-looking women bent over their sewing machines, and thought, Why not organize a strike right here? Mutti climbed onto a chair and pulled the chain of the main switch, stopping all the machines. It was suddenly quiet in the room. She collected herself and then shouted to her coworkers as loudly as she could that they must strike to protest their worthless wages. Nobody made a sound. Everyone waited tensely for the boss to come and fire Mutti on the spot.
Instead, the owner and his wife, already at the brink of bankruptcy, made a brief appearance to announce that they were closing down then and there and sending everyone home.
Mutti was sixteen, had been working for three years, and was now jobless.
Source:
Hunt, Irmgard A. “In Search of a Future.” On Hitler’s Mountain: Overcoming the Legacy of a Nazi Childhood. New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 2005. 22-23. Print.
Further Reading:
Not quite what I'd normally expect from /s/TheGrittyPast, usually there's some death involved.
You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you fuck up? Imagine that feeling when it affects a bunch of other people, too. At least she tried, the wages were nigh worthless anyway.