Election (7): East Prussia By-Election – "Care for a Cigarette?"
"Would you like a cigarette?"
"No thanks."
The party headquarters on election day hummed with hurried footsteps and the thick haze of cheap tobacco smoke.
February 20, 1921. East Prussia and Schleswig-Holstein had completed all their preparations, and the by-elections kicked off amid universal tension. But from the very start, the atmosphere felt off.
The Social Democratic Party was outperforming expectations, projected to snag around four or five seats in each region. In East Prussia especially, experts were now predicting they could exceed the January forecast of two seats and claim up to five—a buzz that hit the papers and foreshadowed an SPD landslide.
"What the hell's going on with these polls shooting up?"
Otto Wels shrugged at my question. "The Independent Social Democrats aren't pulling the votes we expected. Meaning this area's still got more love for the SPD than them. Total misread from the general election results."
Considering East Prussia's peculiarities, Wels owned up to his miscalculation. Our initial projection had been two seats, three at most. That was based on over sixty thousand votes bleeding to the Independents. In last year's election, they'd split the SPD base and left us too shattered to even form a cabinet.
But East Prussia's farmers and Schleswig-Holstein's workers were voting a full year later.
"You're a bit slow on the uptake, Joachim. Politics is still newbie territory for you, huh?"
Wels tossed me a light jab and handed over a newspaper. The front page of a workers' daily, just a couple days old, was still dominated by the Independent Social Democrats' October party congress in Halle.
"The moderates and radicals split hard over Comintern membership. With the core unstable, their base started hemorrhaging from November on."
The Independents had scooped up votes from workers who found the Communists too radical and the SPD too tame. But now they were bleeding back out—too moderate for the radicals, too extreme for the SPD crowd.
"If I'd known, I could've gone full 'flag on the hill' after all."
"I regret it too, but think of it as a safety measure for you."
We just stood there, watching the frenzy, waiting endlessly.
"Some rural votes are running late."
"Account for local quirks."
Election night bled into morning. We'd already pulled over 210,000 votes in Königsberg alone—way past the expected 140,000—but East Prussia's rural quirks were dragging out the count.
Radio hadn't hit civilian homes in Germany yet. Word-of-mouth was all anyone trusted, messengers sprinting back with the latest.
"The SPD's over 210,000!"
Someone dashed from the tally center, yelling the news. Crowds mobbed the windows, hungry for more shouts.
The papers were already hailing the SPD as the upset kings based on confirmed tallies.
"Congratulations on the win."
"No big deal."
But I was already elected. Under Weimar's one-seat-per-60,000-votes rule, our locked-in 210,000 in Königsberg meant three seats secured. As number two on the list, my spot was ironclad.
I knew it in my head, but it didn't feel real. Bigger question: Would we break five seats in East Prussia?
"More tallies incoming!"
A staffer with the receiver shouted, and everyone hushed, expectant. In the breathless silence, he hung up and bellowed:
"Königsberg count's done! Total haul: 240,000!"
"Yes!"
"That's four seats locked! Let's push for five!"
Staffers whooped and clapped. But then, from the window:
"National People's Party's over 260,000!"
The cheers faded. Folks slunk back to work, the mood freezing solid.
Ludendorff hadn't moved the military vote single-handedly, it seemed.
"When the hell does this end...?"
I nursed coffee in the corner, eyeing the scurrying staff.
East Prussia's count wrapped up two days later, that morning. We'd finally cracked 300,000, nabbing precious six seats and healing wounds from last year's drubbing.
Papers called our East Prussian edge a "comeback." The Independents, limping to 40,000, got "crisis." The Nationals, failing to top 300,000 even here? A "painful defeat."
Ring ring!
"Joachim speaking."
"Your Highness, call from SPD headquarters in Berlin. Shall I connect?"
"Please do."
The operator clicked off, and the line connected.
"Hermann Müller here. Joachim... no, Representative Joachim, first off, congrats on the election."
"Thank you."
One of East Prussia's six winners: me. I thanked Müller for reminding me of the surreal fact.
"Can you head up to Berlin tomorrow?"
I glanced out the window. Streets still buzzed faintly with election chatter.
"Yes. Morning ferry."
"Good. Come straight to HQ when you arrive. Initial caucus meeting's set."
"Already?"
A low chuckle rumbled through. "Representative Joachim, the election's over, but politics starts now. With this result, and Fehrenbach's cabinet on its last legs..."
"Cabinet formation talks?"
"Exactly. Odds are good we'll rejoin the government."
I trailed off, eyes dropping to the paper on my desk. Otto Braun's "premier" shot flickered in my mind.
I hesitated. "Any role lined up for me there...?"
"Nothing set in stone yet... but given why we recruited you—military oversight—you'll be called to the Defense Committee, naturally."
I blinked. "Committee?"
"Yes, a Reichstag committee. Ah... were you thinking cabinet spot or something?"
"...The press hype."
Müller's laugh boomed through the receiver. When it died down:
"Who'd hand the premiership to a fresh recruit in this mess? Needs the president's nod anyway."
"...Relief, then."
"Even desperate, we wouldn't shove a newbie into the top job."
I exhaled silently.
"We'll hash details tomorrow. And... reporters will hound you. Keep it zipped—you're one odd duck of a rep."
"Got it."
"See you in Berlin, Representative."
Click.
I stood frozen, receiver in hand. No more "Mr. Joachim" or "Your Highness." A seat deciding the nation's course—and its whirlpool.
Slowly, I hung up.
"Berlin..."
I murmured, tomorrow's schedule already sketching in my head.
"Your Highness, I'm packed."
The Nanny hefted a stuffed bag at my musing.
"I'm not 'Your Highness' anymore."
She gaped, then chuckled. "True enough, Representative."
I nodded. "I'll take the morning ferry tomorrow. Bring Karl if you're ready."
"Yes, sir."
I scanned the tidied house.
"By tomorrow morning, everything changes."
The Nanny stayed quiet. Outside, chatter lingered, but fading.
"...No cold feet. It's just the start."
She smiled then. Yeah. Foot in the door. Long road ahead.