Chapter 200: War and Peace
On Unter den Linden, Germany's red, white, and black flags fluttered beneath the scorching summer sun.
This summer felt especially hot. The ice cream shops along the street were packed with customers, and ice cream decorated with miniature flags from various countries sold almost faster than the shopkeepers could prepare it.
Little William hesitated for a long time before finally choosing a small Wehrmacht black eagle flag to decorate his two color ice cream.
"William, have you decided?" his mother asked gently. "You cannot change your mind once you choose, all right?"
Little William, whose face bore a five point resemblance to hers, nodded his small head.
"I have decided, Mama. I want this one. Papa's military cap has this symbol on it."
The woman with short, curled golden hair took several shopping vouchers from her bag.
As a soldier's dependent, this was one of her privileges. Aside from these vouchers, she also received discounts for hospitals and food. The price was that her husband was absent for most of the year.
"Madam, are you going to attend the ceremony?" the cashier asked as she accepted the vouchers. Her eyes fell on the ticket in the woman's hand, and she could not help sounding envious. "You actually got a ticket? How lucky!"
The cashier pinched William's little face as he leaned over the counter, then handed him the ice cream.
"Yes," the woman replied with a smile. "My neighbors all said today must be my lucky day."
With that, she led little William onto a bus bound for the Olympia Stadium.
As expected, William's ice cream did not survive the not so long journey.
By the time they got off the bus, only the small flag remained in his hand. His face was smeared with melted ice cream, making him look like a complete little disaster.
His mother wiped his face clean with a handkerchief. Then, after passing through two rounds of inspection by security police and the Internal and External Intelligence Department, the two entered the venue.
The world's largest stadium was elliptical in shape, with an outward slanting entrance at its center. Enormous square marble pillars stood on both sides, reflecting the sunlight like clear, life sized mirrors.
Everything was new.
Even the handrails were so clean that there was not a speck of dust on them.
The mother and son had not arrived early. The surrounding stands were already filled with spectators. There were upper class gentlemen in suits holding expensive cameras, East Asians with black hair and dark eyes, Black people, Arabs, and visitors from every corner of the world.
As they walked up toward the stands closer to the center, a special viewing platform appeared on the stadium's central axis.
On it stood a profile every German recognized.
"Mama, look!" William tugged at her sleeve. "It's the President!"
At that moment, Jörg was speaking pleasantly with Roosevelt.
Beside them were Dawes, the current American ambassador in Berlin, and Roosevelt's young daughter.
"Mr. Roosevelt, thank you for coming to Berlin," Jörg said. "I hope this city leaves you with a pleasant impression."
Roosevelt sat in his wheelchair and took a sip of cold iced tea.
His attendance at the ceremony was only a small part of this visit. More importantly, since the economic crisis, interaction between the United States and Germany, and even between the United States and Europe as a whole, had decreased significantly.
This visit was an attempt.
An attempt by America to step into Europe again.
Of course, attempts often came with risks.
Although his authority in the White House was immense, a political organization known as the Isolationist Eagles had become very popular among American parties during this period.
The isolationist ideas they promoted had attracted many citizens, politicians, and congressmen.
The organization's core belief was that the United States did not need to intervene in any global affairs. America's unique geographical advantages, combined with its control over South America, were already enough to build a city upon a hill.
All foreign political and economic outreach was unnecessary.
Roosevelt could have embraced this organization and gained even greater domestic support, but he had not done so.
On global affairs, he held the same view as his uncle, Theodore.
Nonintervention would lead only to elimination.
"Mr. Jörg, I almost do not recognize Berlin," Roosevelt said, looking out across the stadium. "The last time I came here was during my student years. Back then, Berlin was majestic, but it carried an indescribable decay, like an aging machine."
He looked at the wide avenues beyond the stadium.
"And now, it is as new as another New York."
Roosevelt was not merely being polite. He was stating what he had seen.
Over the past few days, he had indeed witnessed Berlin's transformation. Wide streets. Towering buildings. A city, and even a nation, blooming with a unique vitality under Jörg's rule.
"Thank you for your praise, Mr. Roosevelt. I will take your words as sincere."
Catching Joseph's gaze from the corner of his eye, Jörg rose to bid farewell and walked toward the center of the main platform.
At that very moment, countless cameras and motion picture lenses focused on him at once.
A President in his thirties.
A Führer in his thirties.
Jörg von Roman was a miracle rarely seen in world history.
Reporters wanted to capture the face of this miracle, this living legend, while five television station employees operating cameras mounted on mechanical arms transmitted his image to every corner of the world.
The giant Hindenburg airship descended to a low altitude above the stadium.
A massive banner unfurled from its body. On it was a portrait of Jörg beside the five Olympic rings.
Above the image, large letters displayed a traditional German saying.
Long Live Victory!
Teams from various countries emerged from the entrance.
The Olympic flag rose at the center of the venue, followed by the national flags carried by each delegation.
After the athletes had taken formation and performance groups from different countries had completed their acts, two dark horses appeared on the track.
Two of Germany's few remaining Royal Cavalrymen, one on the left and one on the right, galloped toward the entrance.
At the moment they met, their sabers left their sheaths.
Both horses leaped at once, and the two blades crossed in midair, beginning the symphony of the torch relay.
Then Fritz Hilgen, carrying the torch for the final leg, ran forward.
The two cavalrymen followed on either side like iron riders escorting a hero. Their sabers returned to their sheaths as they guarded him to the ignition platform.
Hilgen ascended the crisscrossing stairs.
At the same time, a small formation of soldiers marched forward in goose step, converging into a V shape before the platform.
In the next second, Hilgen received his cue and thrust the torch into the ignition stand.
Whoosh!
Behind the German black eagle above the platform, all the backlights suddenly lit.
Illuminated by both the lights and the sun perfectly positioned behind it, the black eagle seemed to be ignited by the Olympic flame itself, leaving an unforgettable mark of Germany in the eyes of the world.
Receiving Joseph's signal, Jörg smiled and walked to the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Germany is honored to have been granted the opportunity to host the Olympic Games."
His voice carried through the stadium and across the broadcast lines.
"This great nation has fallen many times. Yet, like the tenacious Olympic spirit, it has risen again and again."
"If perseverance and effort are the qualities of the Olympics, then they are also the qualities of Germany, of the German people, and of every ordinary person in this world who struggles for life."
He paused.
"Now, I declare... the Berlin Olympic Games open!"
After a brief silence, the German citizens who had come to witness this moment erupted into wild cheers.
Countless arms rose.
"Forward! Germany!"
"Forward, Germany!"
Under the flashing lights, Jörg paused for a moment.
Then he raised his hand in response to the crowd's fervor.
Afterward, he stepped down from the podium and yielded the position to the representative of the Olympic Organizing Committee, who would deliver the next speech.
Watching this unprecedented grand event and seeing the people cheer for peace and exchange, Jörg could not help feeling a rare surge of emotion.
"I wonder how many years it will be before we witness such a grand occasion again."
His voice was low, almost a sigh.
"I truly hope that day comes soon."
Sitting in his assigned seat, Jörg knew that his Olympics were already half complete.
The remaining half was the autograph session Joseph had arranged for him.
.....
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