Berlin

On the other hand, the January strikes, which were most extensive in Berlin, reinforced perceptions of the metropolis as an unruly and unreliable place. The military command decided to limit furloughs to the city in order to prevent contamination of frontline troops. At the same time, guard units there were strengthened with an eye to snuffing out future disturbances with a whiff of grapeshot. Yet even a leader as bullheaded as Ludendorff understood that suppression alone could not contain the growing dissatisfaction; he knew that without victory in the field the discontent at home might become unmanageable. The message from Berlin in early 1918 was that if this victory did not come soon, it might not be possible at all.

Following the signing of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk on March 3, 1918, by which Soviet Russia formally left the war and ceded huge stretches of territory to Germany, Ludendorff saw fit to launch an ambitious new offensive in the West. The push was accompanied by assurances that it would finally achieve a decisive breakthrough and bring peace with honor. Evidently, many Berliners, despite all the disappointments of the past, were inclined to share this hope. As a police commissar reported, no doubt with some exaggeration: “Now that the highly promising offensive, whose success nobody here doubts, is under way, there is widespread confidence that the war is in its last stage and that peace will come this summer.”

After initial gains Ludendorff’s great March offensive faltered, as did another push in April. News of the military failures quickly dashed the springtime of hope at home. “The cessation of the offensive in the West has caused much disturbance in the Reichstag,” noted one delegate in early May. “Great expectations are replaced by deep and bitter disappointment; certainty of victory gives way to dark pessimism.” Hope flickered again in June when Berliners learned of a new thrust to the Marne. The citizenry now believed, said a police report, that victory must certainly come by fall, at the latest. Yet of course this too was an illusion. Germany’s lines were overextended and her exhausted soldiers were encountering fresh American troops for the first time. Over the course of the summer the Allies counterattacked and pushed the Germans back. Instead of imminent victory, early fall brought Berliners nothing but bad news, more food shortages, and more names with iron crosses on the tote board of death. “Berlin is indeed a gloomy place,” reported Princess Blücher in September. “The news from the front is more and more depressing, there is nothing to eat, and the methods employed to prevent the depression from gaining ground goad the people to fury. Hindenburg has forbidden anyone, whatever his personal feelings may be, to speak of the present position as being anything else than hopeful.”

Of course it proved impossible to keep the home front ignorant of what was happening on the battle front. Soldiers on leave told the unvarnished truth about Germany’s deteriorating military situation. The generals and their right-wing supporters later insisted that defeatism at home had crucially undermined morale at the front, but it would be more accurate to say that growing demoralization among the frontline troops exacerbated pessimistic sentiments at home. Still, most Germans, most Berliners, believed in the possibility of victory almost to the very end. At worst, they envisaged a negotiated settlement that would not be humiliating for the Reich.

By late September General Ludendorff, the man who had ordered soldiers shot for uttering the word “defeat,” became convinced that defeat was inevitable. He further concluded that if the fighting continued much longer, the German army might disintegrate. Backed by Hindenburg, who had reached the same conclusion, he informed the kaiser that it was necessary to appeal for an armistice. Although appalled by this turn of events, Wilhelm agreed to the armistice bid, adding that he had known all along that this was going to happen. The kaiser and his generals, however, were not about to accept personal responsibility for the defeat. They agreed that the onus of arranging an armistice should be handed to civilian politicians, who, in their eyes, had let the army and the monarchy down. As Ludendorff told the General Staff on October 1, 1918, Germany’s civilians must “now eat the soup which they have served us.” The monarch and the High Command also agreed that the new government undertaking the armistice negotiations would have to be reorganized on a more democratic basis. This would, they hoped, pull the rug out from under the radicals who were calling for a republic.