January 1923.
France and Belgium occupied Germany’s Ruhr industrial region to forcibly collect the reparations specified in the Treaty of Versailles.
By government order, the Reichswehr could do nothing but watch helplessly as the Franco-Belgian forces crossed the border and marched into the Ruhr.
Thanks to that, France and Belgium seized the Ruhr—the heart of German industry—without shedding a single drop of blood.
The occupation of the Ruhr shocked and humiliated Germans across the spectrum, left and right alike.
Germans in the Ruhr tried to resist with sabotage and guerrilla actions, but the occupiers responded by arresting hundreds involved in sabotage and executing around 130 of them by firing squad.
A foreign army had marched into our country, arrested our people at will, even shot them—an all-time shitshow—yet the Weimar government limited itself to formal protests and calling for strikes.
At the sight of such impotence, the German public seethed, and Hitler drew up a plan to harness that anger and seize power.
The so-called Munich Uprising.
Also known as the Beer Hall Putsch.
Copying Mussolini’s March on Rome a year earlier, Hitler planned to seize the Bavarian government, then lead the SA and supporters on a march to Berlin, win popular backing, and take power.
You can already tell just from that summary how half-baked it was—a plan a grade-schooler might scribble.
Unlike Mussolini’s National Fascist Party, Hitler and the Nazi Party were just one of a swarm of German right-wing groups, and even then they were mostly confined to Bavaria with almost no ties elsewhere.
They didn’t have nationwide support. Hell, they barely had public attention.
Above all, they lacked the force a coup absolutely requires.
At the time the Party’s “strength” amounted to ten thousand members and a few hundred SA men armed with pistols and clubs.
Even with Versailles limiting the Reichswehr’s size and weapons, swatting away a rickety militia like the SA would be easy.
It was so sloppy that explaining further would be a waste of time. But Hitler, convinced his scheme was sound, went ahead and got crushed.
I intend to follow that catastrophic mistake to the letter.
***
8:00 p.m., November 8, 1923.
A rally was underway in the beer hall of Munich’s Bürgerbräukeller.
Present were the big shots of Munich and Bavaria: Gustav Ritter von Kahr, the Bavarian state commissioner; Hans Ritter von Seisser, the Bavarian police chief; and General Otto von Lossow of the Reichswehr.
“Chief, Chief.”
Emil Maurice and Julius Schreck, who’d gone to scout, returned.
“Report.”
“All three are confirmed—Kahr, Seisser, and Lossow.”
“Good. Well done.”
For the record: Maurice and Schreck were Hitler’s chauffeurs and close aides, helped Himmler establish the bodyguard unit that became the SS, and both wore the same toothbrush mustache as Hitler.
Maurice was a handsome type, narrow-faced with a sharp jawline. Schreck, by contrast, looked so much like Hitler he could’ve been his brother.
Schreck would die of meningitis in 1936. Maurice survived the war and lived to 1972.
...I’m digressing. In any case, with preparations complete, we looked one another in the eye and pledged the success of our “revolution.”
“Are you ready, sir?”
“Of course.”
Present with us was former Imperial Army General Erich Ludendorff.
The famed commander, Hindenburg’s partner at Tannenberg, who gave the Russians a memory they’d never forget—and who, in real history, also took part in the Beer Hall Putsch.
He was mostly for show, but because Ludendorff’s name was revered nationwide, even Hitler treated him with deference.
With everything set, I drew my Luger P08.
Cold and heavy. Been a while.
“All right. We move.”
***
8:30.
“W-what the devil is this!”
Kahr’s panic was obvious as SA men suddenly flooded the beer hall.
“Can’t you tell?”
“What on earth are you—”
I glanced at the SA surrounding us and said, “We’re attempting a revolution.”
“Revolution? Nonsense—”
“Ladies and gentlemen!”
I ignored Kahr’s protest, stepped onto the platform. All eyes swung toward me, startled.
I raised the pistol and fired into the ceiling. The heavy crack roared through the hall like a lion’s roar.
“As of this moment, I declare the revolution begun!”
The SA thundered in unison. The plants we’d seeded among the audience also leapt up, shouting to lead the crowd’s response.
“The current regime is a brood of parasites feeding on Germany. When the French seized our land and murdered our people, the government folded its arms and watched. Is that what a government does?
Will you live as slaves forever? Or will you join me—join the revolution—and remake this rotten world?
If we unite, nothing is impossible! Now is the time to rise!
Come! We march on Berlin, cast out the traitors, and form a true government for the German people! We will not be defeated!”
After proclaiming the dissolution of the Bavarian government and the formation of a new one, I took Kahr, Seisser, and Lossow into a small back room.
Dragged there by the SA’s guns, the trio still put on a brave face and pushed back.
“Are you mad? You think you’ll get away with this?”
“Stop this foolishness and let us go! Do that now and we’ll forget it happened.”
“Gentlemen, you misunderstand. I’m not alone. General Ludendorff will stand with us.”
“General Ludendorff?”
At his name, the trio’s eyes wavered.
They hadn’t expected a national war hero to side with some fringe party hack.
“I’m not asking much. All we need is for you to step out there and tell the people you’re with us. That’s all.”
Easy to say. They knew damn well what responsibility that statement could bring later. Their faces said it all.
But the law is far away. The gun in front of your nose is very near. Who knew what this lunatic might do if they kept resisting...
What to do? They looked at one another, but no solution came.
Pride or life. Choose one, lose the other forever.
“Our time is short. I need your answer.”
“...Very well. We’ll go along.”
In the end, life beat pride.
“A wise choice. You have my thanks.”
I bowed with ceremony and stepped out.
“How did it go?”
Wearing a Stahlhelm and holding a Mauser C96, Göring leaned in to whisper.
“How do you think? They’ll cooperate.”
“A success!”
The three mounted the platform, faces ashen, and gave a brief declaration: they would join the revolution.
Anyone could see it was coerced, but it was enough.
Whatever the reason, we had the Bavarian government’s “consent.”
After them, Ludendorff took the stage, endorsed the revolution, and said he would join the new government.
As thunderous applause filled the hall, I climbed back up with a beer in hand.
I drained the dark lager in one go. The cold wash down my throat brought an instant buzz.
I hurled the empty mug to the floor. It shattered.
“We will prevail. Sieg Heil!”
“Sieg Heil!”
At the same time, SA units under Röhm struck Munich’s key government offices.
Röhm called in to report he’d taken the police headquarters, the Reichswehr command, and the barracks without casualties. I could picture his grin through the receiver.
—It’s done, done! So easy it’s almost boring!
“Good. Well done, Röhm. Keep at it.”
—Don’t you worry. With me here, failure isn’t on the menu.
Yeah. No.
Satisfied that everything matched my memory, I left the beer hall with my close aides to support other SA detachments.
I also let the trio go—on their word that they’d just hurry home to inform their wives.
***
“Hitler, you idiot.”
Back in the clear, the three mocked him for the incompetence of letting them go.
“This is why the uneducated shouldn’t play at politics. He didn’t even stop to think—just let us walk. Pathetic.”
“Quite.”
Once at their residences, all three sent immediate orders to their units.
“Move out!”
“Gear up!”
“Mount up! Move!”
Reichswehr soldiers, acting on the orders, headed for the offices seized by the SA.
Hit by the Reichswehr’s counterstroke, the SA barely fought at all—they bolted in a panic.
The ruckus ebbed. Morning came.