I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

11:30 PM, August 12

Werner was in his office counting the cash and valuables in his safe when he suddenly heard a soft knock on the door.

He went to open the door and saw Eva standing outside, holding a sleeping Little Hans. The moonlight fell on her face, and her eyes glistened with tears.

"Eva?" Werner asked softly. "It’s so late..."

"I’m leaving," Eva said, her voice quiet so as not to wake the child in her arms. "Right now."

Werner let her in and gently closed the door.

Little Hans was fast asleep in his mother’s arms, his small hand still clutching a worn-out teddy bear.

"Have you really decided?" Werner asked.

Eva nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I’ll ask you one last time, Werner... Come with us, please? We can start over in West Berlin. Hans can get a better education..."

Werner walked over and gently wiped away her tear. "Eva, you know I can’t leave."

"Why? Because of your business?"

Werner looked at her gently. "Because this is my battlefield. A new era is about to begin, and I have to be here to witness it, to be a part of it."

Eva bit her lip, trying not to cry out loud.

Werner turned, wrote down a note, and took a stack of West German Marks from the safe. "This is a safe address in West Berlin, and here’s money for the road. If you’re going to go, now is your last chance."

"Werner..."

He kissed her forehead lightly, then gently stroked Little Hans’s cheek. "Take care, Eva. Take good care of Little Hans."

Holding the child, Eva turned to leave. She paused at the door and looked back at Werner one last time.

"Goodbye, Werner."

The door closed softly.

*******************

11:45 PM, August 12

The Stasi Headquarters was brightly lit. Vonke was taking one encrypted call after another.

Inside the Soviet Army Headquarters, Ivanov had just received secret orders from his division commander to prepare for a "special operation."

At the various border checkpoints, soldiers were notified that a major operation would take place after midnight.

At construction sites across the city, workers were transporting mysterious building materials through the night.

And in every corner of the city, ordinary citizens were fast asleep, completely unaware that in just a few hours, the course of history would completely change.

****************************

11:59 PM, August 12

The church bells began to ring.

DONG... DONG... DONG...

Twelve chimes echoed through the night sky.

Werner stood by the window, watching the distant flashing lights and bustling figures.

"The wheels of history have begun to turn," he said softly.

In the distance, the first sound of a chainsaw revved up, tearing through the tranquil night sky.

Someone began to cut the telephone lines.

The construction of the Berlin Wall had officially begun.

********************

12:15 AM.

A piercing whistle blew simultaneously in every barracks in East Berlin.

"Everyone up! Fall in, now!"

The young East German soldier, Peter Hoffman, leaped out of bed and hastily threw on his uniform. The barracks were in chaos, everyone stunned by the sudden emergency assembly.

"What’s going on? A drill?" his bunkmate asked.

"A drill in the middle of the night? What the hell."

Five minutes later, all the soldiers were lined up on the parade ground.

The company commander walked to the front of the formation, holding a sealed order.

"Comrades!" The commander tore open the seal. "I now announce the immediate execution of ’Operation Rose’!"

The soldiers exchanged confused glances. ’What’s Operation Rose?’

"Objective: Seal all border crossings between East and West Berlin!" The commander’s voice was stern. "Anyone who attempts to obstruct the operation is to be arrested immediately! Anyone who attempts to cross the border..."

He paused, his eyes scanning the young faces before him.

"Shoot to kill!"

A chill ran down Peter Hoffman’s spine. ’Shoot to kill? Who are they going to kill? Our own countrymen?’

"Now, get your gear! Objective: the Brandenburg Gate!"

***********************

At the same moment, the construction worker John Schmidt was shaken awake by his foreman.

"Get up! Big job!" the foreman shouted, holding a flashlight. "Five times the usual pay!"

John Schmidt rubbed his eyes. "What job? In the middle of the night..."

"Laying protective fencing. We’re short-handed, that’s why we’re calling you guys up. Don’t ask so many questions, just get to work!"

John and a dozen other workers were taken to Bellauer Street, where they saw a row of deep pits already dug in the middle of the road, with thick posts erected inside.

Several military trucks were parked on the side of the road, and soldiers were unloading their cargo—roll after roll of barbed wire.

"My God..." John sucked in a breath of cold air. "What are they doing?"

"Shut up!" an officer strode over. "Follow the blueprints! The first line of defense must be completed before dawn!"

John took the blueprints and looked at them by the light of a flashlight. His heart began to pound.

’This isn’t some protective fence... this is a prison wall.’

’And they were the ones locking themselves in the cage.’

*******************

12:30 AM, on the roof of an abandoned textile factory.

Werner raised a pair of binoculars, observing the activity in every direction of the city.

Towards the Brandenburg Gate: dozens of military vehicles were unloading building materials, and searchlights turned the night to day.

Towards Potsdamer Platz: workers were pouring concrete piers, blocking major thoroughfares.

Towards the Friedrichstrasse border checkpoint: machine guns were being mounted, firing positions already established.

"Precise, efficient, ruthless," Werner lowered the binoculars and lit a cigarette. "Just as you’d expect from the Germans."

Keller trembled beside him. "Boss, are they really going to seal off the entire city?"

"Not just seal it off." Werner exhaled a puff of smoke. "They’re going to turn Berlin into two different worlds."

"Then what do we do?"

Werner turned to look at Keller, his eyes gleaming. "Us? We’re going to get rich."

He clapped Keller on the shoulder. "Keller, do you know what’s most valuable?"

"Gold?"

"Scarcity." Werner pointed to the distant construction site. "Starting tomorrow, any goods from the West will become scarce. Coffee, cigarettes, chocolate, jeans... their prices will increase at least tenfold."

Keller blinked, a sudden understanding dawning on him. "So that’s why you were hoarding all those goods..."

"Now you understand." Werner flicked his cigarette butt away. "History has given us a chance. A chance to become kings."

**********************

1:00 AM, Friedrich District

The worker Hans Mueller was woken by a huge noise from downstairs. He pushed open his window and saw glaring searchlights at the end of the street, accompanied by the sounds of chainsaws and hammers.

"What’s going on?" His wife, Marta, woke up too.

Hans hastily threw on his clothes. "I’m going to go see."

He rushed out of the apartment building and ran toward the end of the street. As he got closer, he could see the scene clearly—soldiers, workers, barbed wire, concrete piers.

"Halt!" a soldier yelled, aiming his rifle at him. "Don’t come any closer!"

"I just want to see what’s happening," Hans said, raising his hands.

"Go back! Go back right now!"

Hans took a few steps back but didn’t leave. He saw workers stringing up barbed wire in the middle of the street, and that street... that street led to West Berlin.

"My job is in West Berlin!" Hans suddenly realized, shouting, "My factory is over there! You can’t block the road!"

"Go back! If you don’t go back now, you’ll be arrested!"

Hans started to rush forward, but several soldiers immediately surrounded him.

"Comrade! Calm down!" one of the young soldiers urged him. "This is a temporary measure. Things will be back to normal soon."

"Temporary?" Hans pointed at the concrete piers being poured. "Does this look temporary to you?"

The young soldier didn’t answer, but the confusion in his eyes said it all—he had no idea what was going on either.