Albert Sprengel sat on the city train, traveling back from Charlottenburg. He was disappointed, because he had not been able to hear his friend speak at the communist gathering. They had raised a rumpus as usual, and kept asking to be heard. Finally they were acknowledged, and told that Horst Wessel could give his talk later on – but Albert couldn’t wait any longer, he had to be back to his Storm.
He climbed out, ran through the streets, and found New Grün Strasse black with people who were surrounding the redshirts who in turn had the location of the meeting surrounded; with a few peacekeepers in between. He slipped through, went into the community center, and let people know what was going on outside. There were many communists inside as well – that was nothing to fear, as long as Storm one was there to keep the order.
Fiedler reported to him: Lots of noise and shouts naturally, and Dr. Goebbels was continually interrupted. That was just as common here as it was anywhere else. As they left they kept the speaker in the middle, and marched out in a closed procession, troop leader Fiedler at the point, Albert behind as the last man – he took the most dangerous post.
There were lots of Catcalls:: “Red front!”, “Heil Moscow!” – And in return: “Heil Hitler!” and “Germany awakes!” But the people let them through, unwillingly making room for them, sometimes there was pushing and shoving. The few peacekeepers were very happy that everything was developing so peacefully.
They made it to the subway station: safety was only certain when they were all happily through the gate. At every stopping place the Storm leader let some of his people climb out, warning each person to be careful: My God, that was the greatest difficulty, to get home safely, when they had to walk alone in the night through streets filled with reds, and murderers lurked on every corner!
On the trip back there was suddenly the rumor that- heaven knows how: but Werner Wessel was missing as well as four other people. No one had seen them leaving the community center, or in the procession through the streets. No one had seen them at the train station. Perhaps they had remained behind at the community center. The Storm leader decided to immediately go back and search for them there-
So they left the subway and headed back to New Grün Strasse. They got to the location, split up and searched, one place after the other – no, no one was there. Then they headed back, alone, like they came; meeting up again on the corner where they first met up. Sprengel counted his people: he still had nine men.
But the crowd of Reds was greatly swollen, there were at least four hundred or more. They turned down Mall Strasse; that was when they were first recognized and followed – the Storm leader did not allow the Reds to come close. None of his fellows had shooting irons, so he alone let loose at the half dozen that were shooting at them. He returned 10, 12 shots. They made use of the interruption, ran further, until they came happily to the train station island bridge. That’s where there was another shootout. Albert covered his comrades, until they were all through the gate. He was lucky, they had just caught the last night train at the station.
The Storm leader inspected his lambs: none had been touched , not even a hair; they were all healthy, the entire troop. He brought the last two home himself, then marched alone through the night. He walked along the houses; as if he was going to the folk’s market, then pushed up hard against a suspicious fellow. He recoiled back, grabbed into his pocket with his hand – then laughed.
“You, Horst? Man, how did you get here?”
The student explained. It had taken an eternity in Charlottenburg. At the end they still hadn’t allowed him to speak. He had to remind them that at everyone of their gatherings each communist was allowed to talk as long as they had the wind to talk. So they finally let him speak. He gave his little counter argument – with the success, that afterword three young men had met up with him, and then left with him. He was certain of one thing: they were magnificent fellows, ones that they could use in the SA!
Then he had hurried back home – his brother’s bed had been untouched. So he went back out into the streets –
They ran through the streets. Everything was empty around this time, the bars were closed. Then there, at the mill dam sluice gate, right by the savings bank, a troop came up to them; and everyone had their hands in their right jacket pocket – each of them with fingers on the triggers, just like they did.
“Thieves!” Whispered the student.
The storm leader answered: “No, man, those are not thieves! It’s a Red patrol – look out!”
They went straight up to the leader – who hesitated a moment; they saw, how his white hands were slowly lifting out of his pocket.
“Look out, Horst,” cried Sprengel, “they’re pulling their guns! – Shoot!”
They both shot – through their jacket pockets. One of the others screamed out –
“This is it!” Thought the storm leader.
The communists fled, taking their wounded with them.
Albert brought his friend back home; and then waited out on the street. Soon a window up above opened.
“Well, is Werner there?”
“He’s lying in his bed, sleeping like a rat”, said the student.
The Storm leader nodded in satisfaction.
“Well, then I can go back home to mother.”
*****
Hanns Heinz Ewers 
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