Joseph Goebbels & Horst Wessel
This post is a selection of Joseph Goebbel’s diary entries concerning Horst Wessel, a young National Socialist leader who was shot in his Berlin residence and subsequently developed into a martyr for the National Socialist movement. I hope you will find this selection / translation of 1929–1930 diary entries interesting, possibly even somewhat entertaining. A complete translation of 1928– early 1933 diary entries is currently in the works.
January 16, 1929
Yesterday morning: writing, correspondence, reading. Yesterday afternoon. Read Klabund at home. Yesterday evening: Visit by OSAF and Stennes. Important conversation. SA reserves to be absorbed by Daluege. Next Sunday Straßer is planning an advance against Pfeffer in Weimar. I will not go along with this. I hate those loud, disturbing Straßer actions. Jutta at the office. She wants to help. Very good. In the evening the Mark Day movie is being shown at a private residence. Very well put together. Only some of the section titles have to be changed. We had a lot of fun with it. Then a series of military films from before the war. That was Germany, once upon a time! How low we have sunk! Friedenau. I listen to PC Wessel’s speech against the reaction. A good boy, speaking with fabulous idealism. Discussion with him afterwards. He regrets the lack of SA activism. I am in a dilemma. If we turn to activism in Berlin, our people will smash everything to bits. And then a smiling Isidor will issue a ban on us. For the time being, we have to gain power. The snow is piled high outside. Above it the sun. A wonderful winter day! I am about to drive to Duisburg for a speech.
March 15, 1929
Yesterday: work in the morning. Reichstag at noon. Hilferding speaks. Swan song of the Republic. Long conversation with the student Horst Wessel about reaction, revolution and tactics. Things are becoming ever clearer to me. I am now firmly rooted in every issue. Home. Change of clothes. Go. Drove through the sharp wind with 4 SA people, towards Gransee. Through snow and mud. Good meeting. Crowded. Almost exclusively farmers. I speak well. Home. Tired, so tired. Very busy today. In the evening a rally against police headquarters. It will be chaotic. Almost had a terrible car accident yesterday. A simple man on Potsdamerstrasse ran right into the car and was already lying under the bumper. His backpack saved him. We were very sorry and I regret that he disappeared so quickly. I would have liked to help him out in some way. Tonak was completely innocent. I still shudder when I think of it. What if we had killed him! I’m looking forward to Saturday. Not a word from Anka. That’s just how she is. I’ll see her again next week, when I am speaking in Erfurt. I would also like to see the boss again soon. I have quite a lot to discuss with him. Politics: as always. Time is working for us. And we are working with it.
April 5, 1929
Yesterday at noon: conversation with Stuck. We will shoot a second film. “The Berlin SA travels to Nuremberg”. With a plot. If only we had more technical means. Conversation with the student Wessel: our relationship to the Stahlhelm. An increasingly serious matter. The Beobachter is being quite opportunistic in this matter. And just now, when keeping our nerves is essential. It is maddening. We still have way too many philistines in the party. The Munich course can be unbearable at times. I am not prepared to participate in a lazy compromise. I will take the straight path, even if it costs me my position. Sometimes I doubt Hitler. Why is he silent? The opportunists want to harvest unripe fruit. There has already been serious confusion in the S. A. groups. I think about it for hours and always end up at the same conclusions. I can’t help it. Schweitzer stands bravely by my side. Sometimes I want to scream with rage. Is everything we built to fall into shambles? Everything we sacrificed so much for? Saw and heard Grock at Scala in the evening. It was hilarious. A great child. A clown of universal humanity. One simply has to like him. Crying and laughter. A bringer of joy and a scorcher of sorrows. He makes people happy and childlike. Dripping with goodness and stupidity. Today is Friday: 6 of us are working on a new Attack book. We have titled it “Knorke!”
April 28, 1929
Glorious Saturday yesterday. Studied my mail and the press. Finances are in order again. Reichstag. Conversation with Wessel regarding Stahlhelm. I will now act aggressively against these dilettantes. Hitler has not yet answered my letter. The most recent issue of the attack is great. Home. Corrected the Attack, studied the press. Schubert’s “Harfnerlieder”, marvelous. Xenia came over in the evening. We had a bit of a fight at first, we were already on the way home, but in the end she relented and came back with me. We stayed together until dawn, a night vibrating with joy. Today is Sunday. I feel strong enough to uproot trees. Off to Piccadilly in a minute. Cinema. Another screening of our movie. Headed to Charlottenburg tonight. SA concert. I will have dinner with Xenia. Tomorrow I speak in Dresden. In nature, Spring has yet to arrive.
May 14, 1929
Elections in Saxony: 134.000 votes, from 2 to 5 delegates. A success beyond all of our expectations. Yesterday was a day of joy. At the Reichstag. Hilferding sputters on the new bond. I’m speaking on behalf of us and I’m in swell shape. That was a a great moral victory for us. To the office. Discussion with Stark, Neumann and Wessel. Stark is now in charge of the new propaganda department. I hope that he will do a good job. This will also give method and structure to our propaganda. Gau Day. I am speaking on the political situation. Is this supposed to be difficult in light of the democratic dithering and our victory? Debate with the section leaders until 11 p.m. To Göring afterwards. The deputies have gathered there for a small celebration. We get along very well. Thank God, all personal friction between us has been eliminated. Factual differences are worth arguing about. Göring has a wonderful house and is a good fellow in general. Today we want to go to Werder for the tree blossom, with both the Prussian and the Reichstag delegates. Whitsun vacations are already approaching with a vengeance.
September 29, 1929
Yesterday: corrected the Attack in the morning. It is a swell issue. Long discussion at the editorial office. As of today, the Angriff appears twice a week. Visit by the wife of a high-ranking Berlin police officer. Report on the mood within the police force. Very favorable to us. Particularly the officers are already largely on our side. Worked at home in the afternoon. Drove over to Kaulsdorf late in the evening and spoke for an hour at a well-attended meeting. Drove home with SA man Wessel. A brave boy. Student, speaker, SA leader, lives at Fischerkiez and has to endure the red terror each and every day. We drove up to the SA pub “Zur kurfürstlichen Wagenschmiede”. The old, old Berlin! It has degraded into a den of vice, for the most part. I have a great respect for our SA men, who are performing their duty to the movement day after day and still endure the risk of losing their health or even their lives in the evening. Outside, a glorious autumn Sunday. In the afternoon I will give a speech at an SA rally in Spandau.
December 23, 1929
Memorial service at the grave of Walter Fischer around noon. The entire SA is in attendance. Speeches by Wessel, Göring and myself. August Wilhelm is there as well. A magnificent picture: red flags in bright sunshine. A stark reminder of blood. We will avenge our comrade. Lunch at Heydenreich’s. I meet a good man: Mr. Fischer, a pharmacist. Heydenreich is impressively fresh, despite his age. He gives me 10.000 Marks for the daily newspaper and 100 Marks for the wounded. At Bethanien Hospital, I pay a visit to Kann, who has been severely wounded. A bullet pierced his intestine 7 times. He has been in the hospital for 5 weeks. Now he is on the road to recovery. His comrades have surrounded his bed. When I arrived, he was crying with joy. These wonderful lads! His parents are there as well. Good, decent people who fit in with us right away. Everyone is confident of our victory. A beautiful golden Sunday. Referendum. No results yet. Worked at home in the afternoon. Wilmersdorf Christmas party in the evening. Folk dances by the Kreuzberg section. Very pretty. Xenia comes over afterwards. She is very sweet. Christmas begins today. A few more chores, and then I’m free. Tomorrow morning I’m driving home. It will be a somber celebration. But I’m looking forward to seeing Mother again.
January 15, 1930
Worked late last evening. Late at night I receive the news that Communists have shot down our Sturmführer Horst Wessel in his apartment. He lies in the Friedrichshain Hospital, seriously wounded. His poor mother! Right after her son Werner too! We have to start cleaning up the streets soon. It can’t go on like this! The final battle is getting closer and closer!
January 19, 1930
Yesterday at noon: Visited Mrs. Wessel. It was a difficult hour. This noble mother has lost everything. I could hardly console her: two sons at once: that is too much. And then she tells me about Horst Wessel’s life. Like something out of a Dostoyevsky novel: the idiot, the workers, the prostitute, bourgeois family, eternal pain of conscience, eternal torment. Such is the life of this 22-year-old idealistic visionary. I drive to the hospital to see him for a minute. His whole face is shot up, disfigured. He gives me a fixed look, then his eyes fill with tears and then he slurs: “One has to endure!… I am glad!” I am close to crying. To the office. Work, work. The red newspapers are calling this pure-hearted boy a pimp. Even though his murderer is the actual pimp. What is one to say? Assume power? Trample them to a pulp? Talked to Miss Wiedemann about espionage. I think we are improving in that area as well. I spend the whole evening at home: writing, listening to horrible radio (pure Negroism, subhuman art), finished reading “The Road to the Capitol”. This Mussolini is magnificent! My great contemporary role model. A trellis to grow on. Today is a wonderful Sunday. About to head to the National Socialist Stage. “Enemy of the People”. Werner Krauß in the evening: “Emperor of America”. In the meantime, visits and conferences.
February 6, 1930
Wessel’s murderer has been caught. A major KPD passport forgery was uncovered. Terrible revelations. Lots of work yesterday. I am working on my new apartment. Maybe I’ll just stay here, rent another room and have the whole place renovated. In any case, I will make it more spacious, more homelike. The Völkischer Beobachter carries a highly confusing and all-around unfortunate announcement concerning the Berlin daily newspaper. A complete disgrace for me personally. I will complain to Hitler right away. I am fed up with being careful. Although it would be best if Amann first destroys the Kampfverlag. Then everything else will fall in line. In any case, the newspaper question continues to be a source of grief to me, as I expected. To Dessau. Completely packed, overcrowded meeting. I am in brilliant form, a complete success. Loeper is a stalwart and also politically clever man. He has developed very well. I see Dora Hentschel. And talk to her for an hour as well. Full of melancholy. The poor child! Late to bed, got up early this morning. A string of annoyances at the office. I could grow crazy sometimes. Our posters for the Sports Palace rally are all over Berlin today. “Goebbels stopped cold.” Dense groups of people are gathering in front of them in lively disputes. At the “Red House” this afternoon. Maybe I’ll see Erika afterwards. Tomorrow we will have a smashing success at the Sports Palace. White snow falling outside. Winter is returning!
February 10, 1930
Yesterday at noon: spent a glorious, sun-drenched snow day out at Wannsee with Göring, Dürr and Körner. Flushed out my lungs. Visited Wessel at the hospital in the afternoon. He is in a very bad way. He has been stuck with 39.5 degree fever for 3 days and hasn’t eaten. He looks like a skeleton. I am extremely worried whether we will get him through. I stood at his bedside for 2 hours, telling stories. Mentally he is still completely fresh. May God keep preserve him. His mother was waiting for me outside. This poor, lonely woman! To Miss Wiedemann. Ladies’ coffee with consultation. The women want to start a cooperative. I am very much in agreement. We already have the plan ready. Consulted with Dr. Conti about Wessel. Today he will look into possible options. The boy has to live. “Wonders of Asia” at the Universe. Bad film, no composition. Today a discussion with Rosenberg. The daily newspaper gives me plenty to worry about.
February 23, 1930
Just received the news: Horst Wessel died in the early morning. A new martyr for the Third Reich. Like his brother, a wanderer between two worlds. I am filled with pain and grief. I drive immediately to the hospital. His poor, desolate mother! Yesterday: conference for the daily paper at noon. We have to wait. This issue of the attack is glorious. So it was useful after all. Worked at home in the afternoon and evening. Lots of reading, lots of writing. Then an hour of music. I am quite happy to be alone. Went to bed early. Read “Buddenbrooks” until 2 at night. Despite everything, a fabulous book. Too bad about the man! Lots of work today, stress, telephone calls and meetings. But how little is all of that compared to a man who gives up his life!
February 24, 1930
Tough ride to the hospital. Horst Wessel lies in a narrow bed, yellow, dilapidated, his eyes half-opened and staring. Thin, snow-white hands. Farewell, you brave boy. You shall live on with us and win with us. I put some flowers on his bed before I have to leave. His mother is inconsolable. When I deliver the news in the theater, people start sobbing. It really is tragic. Stolzing’s drama “Friedrich Friesen” is well done technically, decent and clean. But without an effective ending. Discussed funeral services with Dürr, Muchow and Göring. Many plans, we will have to make a decision today. Göring recounts some galling points from Amann’s visit to Berlin. Those moneybags! These are the people who spoil all of our grand ideas. Munich! Poor Hitler! Worked at home all afternoon, writing, phone calls, funeral arrangements for Wessel. In the evening Charlotte Stern arrives. A strange woman! I haven’t figured her out yet. She loves me dearly. But she is mostly interested in what I want, not what I am. We read and make music. She wants to call! Lots of work today.
February 25, 1930
Yesterday: planning meeting for Wessel’s funeral and the Gau obsequies. The Gau will remain in mourning for a full 14 days. We will probably have the funeral on Saturday. Hopefully the police will allow it. Reichstag in the afternoon. Uninteresting. The Economic Party has sworn revenge on us for our attack against them. That one was embarassing for the party as well. Conference with Auwi, Kube, Epp and Göring regarding the Reichswehr. Gröner is impossible. An office general “sporting floppy hat and peacock feather”. That’s what he looks like. Office hours. Then School of politics. Göring gives an excellent speech on “Flying as a political question”. It was gratifying to see another confirmation of our world view. Sat together with Auwi, Kube, Görings and Lippert afterwards. From them I heard that people have already begun to reckon with us. They should. You can really feel the movement’s progress. Today I’m headed to Magdeburg with the car. For a speech. It is so cold!
February 28, 1930
Yesterday at noon: my first time at the Reich Committee. A confirmation of everything I had imagined. A committee. Full of nonsense. One stalks the other. Hugenberg is the only one who stands above the rabble. He really is a clever man, probably a man of character as well. Seldte and Düsterberg are politicizing reserve officers and swashbucklers. Von Rohr and von Kleist are still somewhat above flat mediocrity. An announcement is read out. It is horrifyingly stupid. At my suggestion, Epp protests against it. We manage to have it revised. I give it a little more momentum as well. Topic: the coming cabinet crisis and a potential red coup. Senseless cackling about unlaid eggs. We don’t participate in the discussion at all, it is just too stupid. The committee wants to continue its existence as a “freedom bloc”. I will advise Hitler against it. Visited Mrs. Wessel for an hour. Very difficult. It is horrible, and I can offer her no consolation at all. I stand at Horst Wessel’s coffin and take a binding oath. The funeral has been forbidden. We are only allowed to gather at the cemetery. A beastly disgrace! Reichstag in the afternoon. Nothing but boredom. The Young Plan and financial reform are happening behind the scenes. Will there be a crisis? I think so. Red House. Had a stern talk with the faction. They needed it again. Visit to storm 5. Wessel’s storm. Full of workers. Bold, strong faces. I speak for only a few minutes, amid an icy silence fueled by pain and anger. This is the exact opposite of the Reich Committee. This is where the new Germany is born. At home. Wrote a sharp essay against Groener and the office generals. That should cause quite a stir again. Very good. Went to bed dead tired. And here we go again.
March 1, 1930
We will bury Horst Wessel in the afternoon. All street gatherings have been forbidden. The police are antagonizing us with a cynical openness. The KPD calls for counter-demonstrations. So it looks like things will get serious today. The S. A. gathers at the cemetery. Hitler won’t come. I had him instructed via phone about the situation and he actually canceled on us. Oh well! Grzesinksi resigned yesterday. Because of our attacks. Bravo! One pig brought to justice. Yesterday afternoon at the Reichstag. Adjourned until next Thursday. The situation is serious. We are in a latent crisis. Given the right circumstances, the parliament might blow up. New split in the KPD Nothing but stubborn daydreamers and criminals left in there. Worked diligently at home. Mass meeting at the Bock Brewery in the evening. Crowded, spoke well. A complete success. Went home tired, so tired. At least I’m well rested now. What will happen in the afternoon? We will keep the strictest discipline. If blood is spilt, the police will be responsible.
March 2, 1930
So Strasser’s daily newspaper was actually published. Yesterday, in Berlin.” A complete reversal of all our previous agreements. Hitler openly capitulated to these megalomaniacs, those devious little Bavarians with their street entourage. I wrote him an urgent letter right away, demanding his open repudiation of this insolence. Otherwise, I have asked for my dismissal. Yesterday evening, I spoke to the boss via phone, who was at Berchtesgaden — during Wessel’s funeral! I drew his attention to the seriousness of the situation. Also, Göring and Lippert are leaving for Munich tonight, in order to have a final discussion with Hitler tomorrow. I am very skeptical about this, he will remain as evasive as always. But I am ready for anything now, never to fight him, but to resign. Then he’ll have to look for some other marionettes. Funeral in the afternoon. Funeral service at the house. Solemn and serious. The police have closed off all the streets. They even remove our flag from his coffin. Only 10 cars are allowed to follow the hearse. I may only drive ahead. This funeral procession makes its way through the crowds, gathered at the roadsides in a silent greeting, probably around 20.000 or 30.000 people. Sometimes there is resistance, for instance at Bülowplatz. The Internationale resounds. The KPD had the cemetery walls painted in large white letters: “A final Hail Hitler to the pimp Horst Wessel! We swallow our anger. Stay calm! The cemetery is crowded. Endless rows of heads. Serious and solemn. Speeches by two students, Breuer, Osaf and myself. His song resounds: “Raise our flag!” One almost wants to cry. Farewell, Horst Wessel! Outside the raving mob. They are raving and we’re winning. Mountains of flowers. Volksgemeinschaft! The workers who are still sane turn away in disgust from the police cynics. Afterwards, there are some assaults and police attacks outside the cemetery. Otherwise, everything goes well. Office. Press meeting. It was a funeral for everyone, from princes to the common man. Gradually, the worker finds his way to our movement. Visited Görings for dinner. Auwi is there as well. He is a good fellow, and I really like his hearty, natural character. But we have to exorcise his reactionary tendencies. Fixed Görings itinerary for tomorrow again. Everything depends on him. Worked late into the night. Fell asleep tired. Today is Sunday. Movie: “The Holy Mountain”. I give a speech!
March 6, 1930
Worked at the office last morning. Short and sweet. Lunch with Erika at the Rheingold. She was very kind and good. Talked to her about my relationship with women. I need women for balance. They are like balm for my wounds, especially on tough days. But I need to have different characters around me. Erika was very understanding. Corrected some work at home. Xenia made coffee and did this and that. It was a quiet, busy afternoon. Good old Xenia was so happy. Later: Discussion evening at Alexanderplatz. I spoke well. Almost exclusively workers. Then I stood in front of the house where Horst Wessel was shot for a moment. It happened upstairs, in the garret. Crowded Bock Brewery. Social evening for the comrades of the Wessel-Storm. Loud music. Soldierly words and manly tributes to the fallen Storm leader. I give a brief speech. Auwi was there as well. He is becoming more and more popular among the people. Went home late, tired. Worked until 2 a.m. Not a word from the boss. I’ll leave him to his anger.
September 24, 1930
Weißauer is back. He will take over the commercial management of the Attack. One less thing for me to worry about. However, I do not yet have a replacement for Wilke, who will be transferred to the Reichstag on October 15. Lots of work yesterday. And then those endless meetings. Lunch at Görings with Koch and Auwi. Koch is a prole, that will never change. To the Wessel trial. There they are, sitting in their dock. These creatures, true criminals, and yet they still pretend to be aggrieved innocents. “Man is a noble creature,” one of these animals says in justification of his murder. Disgusting! Poor Horst! Having to die at the hands of these pimps! Went to the Reichstag with Frick and Göring. Talked to Severing about the seating. We are the matadors. This time we’ll also get the best seats. Wrote an essay about the government formation. It should cause quite a stir. Went to see a film with Mrs Göring. Spent an hour with Xenia afterwards. She is kind and beautiful.
October 10, 1930
A silent hour at Horst Wessel’s grave. Today would be his 23rd birthday. His grave grew up amidst flowers and wreaths. His mourning followers surrounding it. Requiescat! At the office. Financial situation looks bleak. Wilke proved to be rather incapable. He was no longer up to the task. Now we have a deficit of about 20.000 Mark. We’ll be lucky if we get off with just one black eye. And here I was, indulging in pleasant hopes of future surpluses. Wilke himself didn’t have the faintest idea. Now he’s small and helpless again. I completely misjudged him. But maybe I am also to blame for giving him full control. Attack conference. Everything is in flux. Will Weißauer make it? He’s getting off to a good start. The worries are becoming more and more pressing, responsibilities are growing. Wrote some essays at home. Spent the rest of the evening reading. Today I’ll be leaving. Where to? Away from the prosecution. I’ll be back on Monday. As a member of the Reichstag with full immunity.
