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   XPost: alt.politics.libertarian, alt.politics.liberalism, talk.politics.guns   
   XPost: talk.politics.misc   
   From: mars1933@hotmail.com   
      
     Here is a quote from "The Battle for Berlin" by Joseph Goebbels:   
      
   We had no idea of the danger that threatened us then. I myself did not   
   yet know Marxism well enough to foresee the possible consequences. I   
   shrugged my shoulders as I read the dark prose of the red press and   
   awaited expectantly the decisive evening.   
   Around 8 p.m. we drove in an old rusty car from the city center to   
   Wedding. A cold gray mist hung under a starless sky. Our hearts were   
   bursting with impatience and expectation.   
   As we drove down Müllerstraße it was already clear that the evening   
   did not bode well. Groups of dark figures stood on every street   
   corner. They apparently planned to teach our party members a bloody   
   lesson before they even got to the meeting.   
      
   Dark masses of people stood outside the Pharus Hall, expressing their   
   rage and hate with loud and impudent threats.   
      
   The leader of the protective forces cleared a way for us and reported   
   briefly that the hall had been packed since 7:15 p.m. and had been   
   closed by police. About two-thirds of the audience were Red Front   
   Fighters. That was what we wanted. There would be a decision. We were   
   ready to give it all we had.   
      
   Entering the hall, we encountered a warm, stiffling aroma of beer and   
   tobacco. The hall was hot. A lively roar of voices filled the hall.   
   People were packed in tightly. We reached the podium only with   
   difficulty.   
      
   No sooner was I recognized than hundreds of voices filled with rage   
   and revenge thundered in my ears: "Bloodhound! Murder of Workers!"   
   Those were the mildest words they shouted. But a welcoming group of   
   some party members and S.A. Men answered with passion. Excited battle   
   cries sounded from the platform. I saw immediately that we were a   
   minority, but a minority determined to fight, and therefore win.   
      
   It was still our custom then for an S.A. leader to chair all of the   
   party's public meetings. Here too. Tall as a tree he stood up front   
   and asked for silence with his upraised arm. That was easier said than   
   done. Mocking laughter was the answer. Insults flew toward the   
   platform from every corner of the room. People growled and screamed   
   and raged. There were world revolutionaries scattered about who   
   apparently had gained the courage they needed by drinking. It was   
   impossible to quiet the hall. The class-conscious proletariat had not   
   come to discuss but to fight, to break things up, to put an end to the   
   Fascist specter with callused workers' fists.   
      
   We were not uncertain, even for a moment. We also knew that if the   
   enemy did not succeed this time in what he had threatened, the future   
   success of the movement in Berlin was assured.   
      
   Fifteen or twenty S.A. and S.S. men stood before the platform in   
   uniforms and arm bands, an impudent and direct provocation to the Red   
   Front Fighters. Behind me was a select group of reliable people ready   
   at any moment to risk their lives to defend me from the onrushing red   
   mob with brutal force.   
   The Communists made an obvious mistake in their tactics. They had   
   scattered small groups throughout the hall, but clumped most of the   
   rest in the right rear of the hall. I recognized immediately that   
   there was the center of unrest, and if anything was to be done, we   
   first had to deal ruthlessly with them. Whenever the chair tried to   
   open the meeting, a dark chap stood up on a stool and shouted "Point   
   of Order!" Hundreds of others yelled the same after him.   
      
   If one takes from the mass their leader or also their seducer, they   
   are leaderless and easily controlled. Our tactic therefore was to   
   silence this cowardly troublemaker at any cost. He felt secure back   
   there, surrounded by his comrades. We tried to do this peacefully a   
   few times. The chair shouted over the uproar: "There will be   
   discussion afterward! But we determine the rules of order!"   
      
   That was an ineffective attempt at an unsuitable object. The screamer   
   wanted to throw the meeting into confusion by his endless shouts and   
   bring things to the boiling point. Then a general melee would result.   
      
   As our efforts to bring the meeting to order peacefully proved   
   unsuccessful, I took the head of the defensive forces to the side, and   
   immediately after groups of his men slipped through the thundering   
   Communist masses. Before the astonished and surprised Red Front troops   
   realized what was happening, our comrades had hauled the troublemaker   
   down from his stool and brought him through the raging crowd to the   
   podium. That was unexpected, but what followed was no surprise. A beer   
   glass flew through the air and crashed to the floor. That was the   
   signal for the first major meeting hall battle. Chairs were broken and   
   legs ripped from tables. Glasses and bottles suddenly appeared and all   
   hell broke loose. The battle raged for ten minutes. Glasses, bottles,   
   table and chair legs flew randomly through the air. A deafening roar   
   rose; the red beast was set free and wanted its victims.   
      
   At first it looked as if we were lost. The Communist attack was sudden   
   and explosive, completely unexpected. But soon the S.A. and S.S. men   
   distributed throughout the hall and in front of the platform recovered   
   from their surprise and counterattacked with bold courage. It quickly   
   became clear that although the Communist Party had masses behind it,   
   these masses became cowards when faced with a firmly disciplined and   
   determined opponent. They ran. In short order the red mob that had   
   come to break up our meeting had been driven from the hall. The order   
   that could not be secured by good will was gained by brute force.   
      
   Usually one is not aware of the stages of a meeting hall battle. Only   
   later does one recall them. I still remember a scene that I will never   
   forget; on the podium stood a young S.A. man whom I did not know. He   
   was hurling his missiles into the on-coming red mob. Suddenly a beer   
   glass thrown from the distance hit him on the head. A wide stream of   
   blood ran down his face. He sank with a cry. After a few seconds he   
   stood up again, grabbed water bottle from the table and threw it into   
   the hall, where it clattered against the head of an opponent.   
      
   The face of this young man is engraved in my memory. This   
   lightening-fast moment is unforgettable. This gravely-wounded S.A. man   
   would soon, and indeed for all times, become my most reliable and   
   loyal comrade.   
      
   Only after the red mob had been driven howling, growling and cursing   
   from the field could one tell how serious and costly the battle had   
   been. Ten lay in their blood on the platform, most with head injuries,   
   two with severe concussions. The table and stairs to the platform were   
   covered in blood. The whole hall resembled a field of ruins.   
      
   In the midst of this bloody and ruined wasteland, our tree-high S.A.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)