Black Tea and Champagne (The Party) - July 22, 1942
It was just one evening, this going-away party before the soldier-students headed for the Russian front. But what a game-changer this party was!
By the time Wednesday July 22, 1942 rolled around, the finality of the impending transfer to the Russian front hit the medical students of the Second Student Company hard. Hans, Alex, and Willi apparently spent most of this day together. Lilo Berndl remembered that Alex came by to bid her farewell, accompanied by Hans and Willi. She was not used to seeing Alex in uniform. I’m going to Russia again, he told her, obviously delighted by the idea. She fretted about his safety while he could hardly wait to see his ‘true homeland.’
They told her about the last-minute party planned for that evening, but Lilo declined the implied invitation. “Everyone was going to be there,” they said.
As Alex handed Lilo her house and apartment keys, he mentioned the goals they had in mind for the winter semester: To break Hitler’s power and topple the regime. Lilo remained uncomfortable with such candid language. Sure, she agreed with it, but it sounded so dangerous when the words hung in the air.
Instead of protesting the concepts he revealed, she objected to his giving her back his keys. It’s better this way, Alex countered. Take care of them for me. When I get back, I will pick them up again, all right?
After extracting a promise from the blond beauty to write him, Alex and his friends left. Lilo knew she possibly would never see him again. It was simply awful. The prospect of such a comfortless void remained.
One errand evidently involved a stop at Josef Söhngen’s bookstore. In keeping with other narrative about the frank talk of the day, Söhngen reported that this was the first time he had heard Hans Scholl speak of political matters in detail.
Willi Graf paused briefly in the day’s bustle to think about his sister Mathilde. Her wedding day has now passed. I am running around, and I cannot be there. Whether she will be happy?
Wedding day or not, the focal point of Wednesday’s hubbub centered on the farewell party to be held at Manfred Eickemeyer’s studio. Coincidentally, Hans Hirzel had had enough of the White Rose mystery. Under the pretext of going to the mountains, he traveled to Munich to confront Hans Scholl about his connection to the leaflets he had received a few weeks earlier.
When he arrived in Munich, he called Hans’ landlord at Lindwurm Str. 13 (Hans Hirzel assumed that Hans and Sophie shared a room). One of the Scholls came to the telephone and made a date to meet Hans Hirzel at their residence at 7 pm.
But Hans Hirzel misjudged travel time. He did not know his way around the city, so he got hopelessly lost. Neither Hans nor Sophie had waited for him. Their landlady told him he could find the Scholl siblings at Eickemeyer’s studio and gave him the address.
By the time he navigated the 2.25 miles to the studio, it was 9 pm. The party had been in full swing for at least an hour. Hans Scholl honored his younger friend by introducing him to everyone assembled, first and last names. Then he showed Hans Hirzel to a seat next to Sophie.
The conversation had already started its shift from social chatter to more “seditious” topics. Anneliese Knoop-Graf later spoke of the way the students were “unified not only in their sharp rejection of the Nazis, but also in their literary and spiritual-intellectual interests.” What Hans Hirzel therefore perceived as “inconsequential things” provided the ultimate basis for their more serious contemplations.
This farewell party is absolutely critical in the development of the increased resistance work the students known as the White Rose subsequently undertook. No other single event – not even the leaflet operation of February 18, 1943 – consumed so much time and energy on the part of the Gestapo’s investigations after the arrests.
The four original students (Hans, Sophie, Christl, Alex) had limited participation in the work of printing and distributing White Rose leaflets to themselves, although friends like Traute knew and supported their efforts. Nevertheless, the response articulated by those in attendance on July 22 seemingly alerted them to the potential should they widen the scope and increase the number of co-workers. It would be an exaggeration to say that July 22, 1942 was the turning point in their operations. Nevertheless, the significance of the evening should not be overlooked.
Hans Hirzel was hardly the last person to arrive. Professor Huber had appeared shortly before the high school student. Traute Lafrenz also showed up around 9 pm. While some present may have been silently shocked that Traute came, they would have been even more astonished to know that Hans Scholl himself had invited her.
In fact, so many people showed up that their host, Manfred Eickemeyer, became a little annoyed. Hans Scholl had told him he had invited a “few people” to the affair. By some estimates, there were as many as thirty people at the party, though only twelve to fifteen can be identified as active participants in the ensuing chatter.
Apparently there had also been some confusion over who bore responsibility for providing refreshments for the larger-than-expected crowd. Sophie Scholl brought black tea, while Hans turned up empty-handed. Eickemeyer had to improvise quickly, fetching pastries and champagne. The students also presumed he would serve the guests. Although Hans helped out by pouring tea, he left it up to Eickemeyer to prepare it. As a result, Manfred Eickemeyer missed out on large chunks of the conversation, a little soured in the beginning by Hans’ lack of manners.
As is often the case in such settings, humor broke the logjam and steered the discussion to the issues that concerned them most. Hans Scholl told a story about a house that had been destroyed during an air raid. An unknown person had installed a placard that read: Führer, we thank you.
Encouraged by the positive response to that joke, Hans Scholl related another gag making the rounds in Munich. Someone had composed a ditty and inscribed it on a monument for a hero from Bavaria’s more “noble” past. The poem asked the mounted warrior to descend from his statuesque horse, because “your corporal doesn’t know what to do any more.” It would be better for Adolf Hitler to “ride out” these bad times. Again, the partygoers laughed in support.
Till then, Kurt Huber had spoken rarely. Hans Hirzel was surprised that he remained seated in a corner, as it appeared that he was the guest of honor.
Something about the amusing anecdotes elicited more serious dialogue – from Professor Huber as well. Manfred Eickemeyer opened the floor to deliberation of Nazi atrocities in Poland. Disparaging the SS units, he told of the mass executions of Russians, Jews, and Poles. His tales were old news to Hans, Schurik, and Christl, but this would have been the first time that everyone else heard it directly from him.
While Eickemeyer stressed that his information about the mass executions and resettlements of Jews came from reliable accounts from others and not from his personal experience, he supplemented those stories with things he indeed had firsthand knowledge of. He had worked a construction site with the Wilhelm Offenbeck Corporation. They treated their Polish workers so badly that Eickemeyer believed the Polish request to unionize was legitimate. Instead of remedying the “deplorable state of affairs” brought about by low wages and inadequate working conditions, the Offenbeck Corporation rebuffed attempts to improve the situation. Eickemeyer noted that because of that attitude, Polish workers passively opposed German interests in the region.
Manfred Eickemeyer’s stories did not stop with such relatively banal offenses. Other things he had seen with his own eyes included the alcoholic excesses of members of the SS during an inauguration ceremony in Cracow, and the horrors of (according to Eickemeyer) 600,000 Jews crammed into the Warsaw Ghetto. He told them most of the Ghetto inhabitants had been shipped there from Germany.
Eickemeyer’s testimony paused the merry-making and took the conversation to a whole new level. Alexander Schmorell posed the question: How should we then behave as soldiers on the battlefield? He said he believed they should behave passively. His words sparked a controversy so furious, Willi Graf retreated inside his shell and participated in the dispute as little as possible.
Schurik justified his argument by saying that he saw it as the only way to bring about peace at any price. Of course, his being half-Russian influenced him too. How could he shoot at people who were his countrymen?
This line of reasoning did not appease most of those assembled. Hans and Sophie Scholl, Traute Lafrenz, Katharina Schüddekopf, Hans Hirzel, Manfred Eickemeyer, and Professor Huber jumped feet first into the fray, contending that every man had to pull his own weight in battle. Hans Scholl, Eickemeyer, and Huber additionally claimed that because of the atrocities Manfred Eickemeyer had described, those wearing gray army uniforms had to make up for the crimes committed by the SS, crimes that had injured the honor of the army in general.
Alexander Schmorell stood his ground in the face of this difference of opinion. Passive resistance was the most appropriate action they could take. He may not have made many converts that night, but they never forgot his words.
Perceptibly moved and still troubled by the power of Manfred Eickemeyer’s experiences, Professor Huber shifted the conversation slightly. He maintained that whenever a National Socialist committed an injustice, it should be noted so they could be punished for it later. As Eduard H., one of Huber’s students, would later note, Huber was deeply grieved by the incontrovertible news of German atrocities in the East. Huber still firmly held to the NSDAP platform, but that platform did not include cold-blooded murder.
Hans Hirzel observed that most of the students present assumed that the war would quickly come to an end, that the collapse of the Nazi regime was the only way German culture would survive. Therefore when Professor Huber made his statement about punishment for atrocities, he was understood to mean something that would occur in the near future, not years down the road.
The high school student from Ulm sensed that those around him seemed to have democratic leanings. That political philosophy informed the debate. Hans Hirzel consequently could not figure out why not one person bluntly said that after the National Socialist government was toppled, a democracy would and must come. He could hear it in the undercurrents, but the words never came.
Indeed, Hans Hirzel noticed that National Socialism itself was never attacked during the heated arguments. National Socialist crimes, yes, but National Socialism as a political ideology stayed off limits. They spoke of cases where Party members illicitly procured groceries, but stopped short of condemning the regime.
Following an hour or so of intense talk, Manfred Eickemeyer brought out the champagne. The party slowly broke up into smaller conversational units. As Traute later said: I don’t believe that anyone present paid much attention to the things Hans Scholl said, because everyone was pretty much in a party mood and a little drunk.
Hans Hirzel said that at first, the students were drinking tea, and later champagne. I remember very well that there were far fewer glasses than there were people.
Perhaps some of the most meaningful or at least the most personal discussions followed this mood-altering change. Hans Hirzel was delighted when Professor Huber addressed him in a somewhat smaller setting, asking him what the public disposition was in Württemberg. Hans Hirzel replied that he was not competent to answer, but his uneducated guess would be that people in Württemberg were more conservative and loyal to Hitler’s government than what he had seen in Munich.
The students evidently mixed and mingled well for the remainder of the party. Even a complete stranger like Hans Hirzel was treated kindly. Alexander Schmorell befriended him briefly, chatting him up about music – Hans Hirzel’s favorite subject. Alex regaled him with talk of Igor Stravinsky, whom Alex believed to be the greatest living composer. Heady stuff for an insecure high school boy.
Christoph Probst also had a quiet one-on-one with Hans Hirzel. After the quarrel that had appeared so passionate – one in which Christl, like Willi, had barely participated – he admitted to young Hans that despite his “deep convictions” about the Nazi regime, he did not see how they were justified in attempts at intervention. Not mincing words, he said he was against Hans Scholl’s “activism.” It was a difference of opinion among friends, but a deep-seated difference, Hans Hirzel would later note.
With all he had heard and seen that evening, Hans Hirzel believed that Christl’s repudiation of the National Socialist government was the most unshakable.
Somewhere in the ebb and flow of conversation, a small group discussed the White Rose leaflets. Not participating: Manfred Eickemeyer. Hans Hirzel recalled that the discussion started when he bravely said he had received a leaflet entitled White Rose. Hans Scholl initially evaded the question and steered the conversation to a less provocative topic. When that failed, Professor Huber and Hans Scholl then posed the question: Is it right to distribute leaflets? This was the reason Hans Hirzel had traveled all the way from Ulm. But in the end, Hans Scholl merely talked theory and never admitted to being involved with the White Rose leaflets, although the name of the group did surface.
Astonishingly, several people chimed in with a dissenting opinion, alleging that leaflets could be perceived as Communist methodology. Hans Scholl privately discussed the flyers with Käthe, though she later claimed amnesia (and “confused” events) about specifics.
If not leaflets, then how about placards? No one said these would be placards opposing National Socialism. Some things did not need to be precisely defined. Somebody must have expressed a favorable verdict about that technique for communicating antipathy to Hitler’s regime, because they told of having seen the single word Sieg painted on the side of a house. A question mark replaced the nearly-requisite Heil.
Or, as Hans Scholl declared, they could simply stop going to the mandatory assemblies. If no one showed up… But by now, the champagne was in control, and his words were lost in the buzz.
Very late in the evening, as the party was on the verge of breaking up, someone mentioned a “great woman” to Hans Scholl, a woman who should have been invited to the party. He immediately telephoned her, and she came right over. Few people knew her, and no one could remember her name.
She talked to Professor Huber as though they were close friends, something that disturbed him somewhat. It turned out that her husband knew him. The good professor remained clueless.
Kurt Huber was among the first to leave, accompanied by Käthe and Traute. Their 11 pm departure signaled the end of the party, and the studio gradually emptied.
Hans and Sophie went home at midnight, first escorting Hans Hirzel home. Hans Hirzel was brimming with questions he wanted to ask the two of them, beginning with what had made Hans Scholl change his mind about influencing the wheel of history as they had previously discussed. Hans Hirzel knew what the older Hans had told him the previous January. How could he now switch course?
And the atrocities in Poland – after this evening, it was obvious that Manfred Eickemeyer had been the primary source for the information in Leaflet II. If what Eickemeyer said were true, how would they as Germans be able to bear the guilt in future generations?
These questions however stuck in Hans Hirzel’s throat. He could not ask them.
Nor could he ask why everyone at the party seemed to view National Socialism the same way he and his family viewed Bolshevism. What was with that? He was not averse to talking about the crimes committed by individual National Socialists, but he was not stupid. He recognized the animosity of the students towards the political system itself.
Instead, he was able to muster one feeble question. He told Hans and Sophie that he had received two White Rose leaflets. Did Hans Scholl know their origin?
Hans Scholl adeptly sidestepped the query. He acknowledged that he knew Hans Hirzel was on the mailing list, that he had seen the leaflet as well, and that several people in Munich had also gotten a copy. Furthermore, Hans Scholl said several recipients had turned their copies over to the Gestapo.
Hans Hirzel replied that he had come close to doing that very thing, but had hesitated for fear he would expose himself to police scrutiny. And with that, the burning questions about the leaflets ended, and Hans Hirzel delved into the second aspect of White Rose work that bothered him. How did they know that what they had said that night about National Socialist crimes was true?
To his dismay, Hans Scholl did not respond with a satisfactory answer. He said something about its being “clear as day [sonnenklar]” for anyone to see. That was not enough for Hans Hirzel. He told Hans Scholl he needed evidence. Hans Scholl promised to look into the matter and provide him the proof he requested. The high school student was mollified – for the moment.
They said their good-byes, Hans Hirzel wondering about Sophie’s uncharacteristic reticence. He went back to the home of the Klein family in Obersendling, not far from Carl Muth’s house in Solln.
Hans and Sophie, however, dropped in on Traute. It may have been well past midnight when they showed up, but Traute did not mind. The three friends stayed up all night talking. Despite the comfort of sharing that particular moment, when Hans and Sophie left for the train station early on July 23, Traute did not go with them. Later, Traute would say that it was about this time that she realized they had grown apart because Hans was too sensual, which made him very unhappy.
Sophie borrowed Traute’s bicycle so she could handle the trek to Munich’s East Train Station. The soldier students had to be there by 7 am. Most of them arrived early. Jürgen Wittenstein was there too, with his camera. He snapped a few photographs of his army buddies, including the now-famous (and eerily prescient) picture of Hans, Sophie, and Christl conferring.
In 2002, I asked Herta Probst (Christoph Probst’s widow) if she had any idea what kind of notes Christl was taking. She said no, he had never mentioned it. I jokingly said he probably wrote, “Herta says pick up milk. DO NOT FORGET.” She laughed and concurred that doubtlessly it was something mundane, nothing at all connected with resistance.
While the soldier students milled around inside the fenced enclosure, Sophie climbed up on the railing to eavesdrop. An unknown woman – behaving far more decorously – stood next to her; this was likely Lilli Holl, as she was also present. Sophie paid no attention to Traute’s bicycle. She concentrated solely on her brother and his friends.
Before long, the soldier students received orders to board the train. Willi Graf felt especially happy about the way things turned out. Our train compartment is good. I feel good. We have enough room and can talk. That in itself is worth a lot.
Both Hans Scholl and Hubert Furtwängler confirmed Willi’s elation. Hans wrote his parents that he and his friends had occupied a whole compartment. When they were not sleeping, they passed the time with intelligent conversation or games. Hubert concurred, saying that they were even able to speak openly about the leaflets. The friends in that compartment? Hans, Schurik (whose Russian name now meant more than ever before), Willi, Hubert Furtwängler, and Raimund Samüller.
When the Russia-bound train pulled out at 11 am, Sophie wearily turned to go back to her room. Where had she left Traute’s bicycle? In all the commotion, she had been caught unawares. A dastardly thief had stolen Traute’s bike.
For White Rose and Shoah scholars:
This Substack post is an almost-complete excerpt of Chapter 10 from White Rose History, Volume II. I started to edit it down. As noted in the chapter, the evening of July 22, 1942 is one of the most critical to their work. It opened their eyes to potential coworkers outside the original group of four (Hans, Sophie, Alex, Christl) and emboldened them. Additionally, the evening kicked off their required service on the Russian front with questions they’d not previously considered.
Notice the absence of Jürgen Wittenstein, except as he snapped the now-famous photo of Hans, Sophie, and Alex. Despite his postwar attempts to insert himself into the group that traveled to the Russian front, he was not among the five in the train compartment. No matter what he said. The (“paid”) post for Friday July 7 will cover this issue.
I was surprised that Alexander Schmorell was the person arguing on behalf of passive instead of active resistance. This fact was recorded by too many people to ignore.
Please note how critical it is to consider the Protokolle of Hans and Susanne Hirzel. Hans Hirzel’s account of the party must have enraptured his interrogator.
Everything in this post and Chapter 10 is fully documented and supported!
Since this post is excerpted from White Rose History, Volume II: © 2002, 2005, 2007. Please contact us for permission to quote.