Chapter 365 - 10: 70,000 People and Armored Vehicles

Chapter 365: Chapter 10: 70,000 People and Armored Vehicles

Saint Nicholas’ Church, 5:30 PM.

The prayer service was over.

The church doors opened, and people flooded out. Werner saw them holding candles, their faces pious and resolute. The Priest stood at the entrance, hugging people one by one as they came out, whispering blessings.

"Peace!" someone shouted.

"Peace!" more people echoed.

"We are the people!"

"We are the people!"

The chanting grew louder and more unified.

The crowd in the square began to swell, growing from hundreds to thousands, then from thousands to tens of thousands.

They held candles and homemade signs, moving forward slowly.

Werner blended into the crowd, carried along by the flow of people.

He looked around and saw all sorts of faces—young students, middle-aged workers, and white-haired elders.

"We want reform!"

The chant echoed in the night air. Werner looked up at the sky. The autumn dusk had fallen, leaving a streak of blood-red sunset on the horizon. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting the procession in shifting light and shadow.

The crowd grew ever larger. It spread out from the square and advanced along the main road like a great river.

Werner heard singing in the distance—not the East German national anthem, but a folk song called "We Shall Overcome." The singing was low and powerful, spreading through the crowd.

"Mr. Betelich?"

Werner turned to see a woman in her thirties standing before him. She wore a green jacket, had short hair, and her face was flush with excitement.

"You are...?" Werner didn’t recognize her at first.

"I’m Monica," the woman said. "Monica, from the environmental group ’Green Future.’ Do you remember? You funded us so we could print our pamphlets."

Werner remembered.

"Green Future" was one of the dozens of dissident groups he had funded. It focused mainly on environmental protection and anti-nuclear weapons activism.

"I remember," Werner said. "What happened to you all afterward?"

"We survived." Monica’s eyes were a little red. "The Stasi arrested a few of us, but because we were just focused on environmentalism and not directly opposing the government, they eventually let us go. Mr. Betelich, I’ve always wanted to thank you in person. Without your support, we would have fallen apart long ago."

"Don’t thank me." Werner waved his hand dismissively. "You’re the ones who persevered."

"No." Monica shook her head. "You don’t know what your funding meant to us. Back then, there were just a few of us crammed into a small basement. We worked odd jobs during the day and printed flyers at night. We had no money for paper, no money for ink, and sometimes we couldn’t even afford to eat. Your money came at just the right time."

"And it wasn’t just the money. You had someone tip us off, helping us evade capture by the Stasi several times. Mr. Betelich, you saved our lives."

Werner fell silent for a moment.

He had originally funded these dissident groups partly as an investment in the future—these people might one day testify on his behalf, helping to clear his name. But looking at Monica’s emotional state, he suddenly realized they were genuinely grateful to him.

"At least a dozen of the people marching today are members of our group," Monica said. "We all know there might be conflict today. But we have to be here. Because if we don’t stand up today, we might never get another chance."

"You will succeed," Werner said.

"Really?" Monica looked up, her eyes full of hope. "Do you think... we can really change this country?"

Werner looked at her, then back at the surrounding crowd. Tens of thousands of people holding candles, chanting slogans, advancing slowly. Their faces showed fear, excitement, hope, and determination.

"You will," Werner said firmly. "If not today, then tomorrow. But it will happen."

Monica smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Betelich. I’m so glad I ran into you here."

"Me too," Werner said.

"Well, I should go." Monica waved. "I need to get back to my group’s section. Take care, Mr. Betelich!"

She turned and disappeared into the crowd. Werner stood where he was and lit a cigarette.

’Maybe what I’ve done all these years wasn’t just for myself,’ he suddenly thought. ’Maybe, at some point without me even realizing it, I really did help some people. Those political prisoners, those dissidents, those ordinary people who wanted to escape this country—they were given a new life because of me.’

It was a strange feeling, both foreign and warm.

***

「6:30 PM.」

The procession reached the city center square. It was the largest square in Leipzig, normally used for military parades and rallies. Now, it was filled with people, a sea of bodies stretching as far as the eye could see.

Werner stood at the edge of the square, trying to estimate the number of people. ’Twenty thousand? Thirty thousand? Or more?’

"Seventy thousand," an old man next to him said. "I’ve been counting. At least seventy thousand."

Werner turned to look at him. He was a man in his sixties, wearing glasses and an old suit. He looked like a retired teacher.

"How did you count them?" Werner asked.

"I used to be an engineer." The old man pushed his glasses up. "Estimating crowd density is a basic skill. Look, the square is about forty thousand square meters, and the density is close to two people per square meter. Add in the people on the surrounding streets, and the total is no less than seventy thousand."

"Seventy thousand..." Werner repeated under his breath.

It was a staggering number. Leipzig’s total population was only five hundred thousand. Seventy thousand people meant that nearly one in seven citizens had taken to the streets.

"Last week it was fifty thousand, and the week before that it was twenty thousand," the old man continued. "At this rate, there might be a hundred thousand next week. By then, the government will have lost control completely."

"Aren’t you afraid?" Werner asked.

"Of course I’m afraid." The old man smiled. "I’m scared to death. My wife was crying this morning, begging me not to go out. She said these old bones of mine couldn’t take a police baton. But I came anyway."

"Why?"

The old man was silent for a moment, then said, "Because of my son. He’s thirty this year, a college graduate working as an engineer at a factory. But he’s always wanted to go to West Germany because there are more opportunities and a better life there. He applied to leave the country last year and was rejected. He applied again this year, and was rejected again."

He took off his glasses and wiped the corners of his eyes. "I don’t want my son to be trapped in this country his whole life, like me. That’s why I have to be here. Even if I’m beaten to death today, at least I will have tried."

Werner didn’t know what to say. He simply offered the man a cigarette.

The old man took the cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. "What about you, young man? Why are you here?"

"I..." Werner paused. "I wanted to see history."

"History?" The old man laughed. "Yes, today could very well go down in the history books. It will either be ’The Victory of the East German People’s Peaceful Revolution’ or ’The Leipzig Massacre’."

Just then, a commotion erupted in the distance, across the square.

Werner looked up to see dozens of armored vehicles rolling in, their RUMBLING engines deafening.

The armored vehicles stopped, surrounding the square, their turrets turning toward the crowd. Soldiers jumped out, brandishing submachine guns, and took up positions around the vehicles.

The crowd fell silent in an instant.

Everyone stared at the armored vehicles and the soldiers. The air seemed to freeze.