The Great Reversal
"Look at this outrage now! The third wave is unity! It is solidarity! It is Germany made great through unity! And yet, why are we so divided among ourselves? Why must we point our guns at our fellow countrymen!"
I unleashed my emotions in the speech. The very meaning of DDRAP was the unification of the German people. And yet, hadn't we ourselves split Germany in two? The other parties who saw German unification as a threat were the real problem. That was what I proclaimed.
Anyone with a sharp eye would see the picture I was painting. Even though I could have easily succeeded in the March on Berlin, I chose to abandon it all rather than have brother turn gun on brother. I wanted to plant the image in their minds of someone like Giuseppe Garibaldi, the hero of Italian unification. There was no emotion in my actions whatsoever. To the ignorant observer, it might seem emotional, but even my emotions were grounded in reason. As I raged in my speech, I calculated every single moment. I lacked Hitler's raw instinct for the crowd.
This time, everything has to be different. If I'm to lead Germany, I need the respect of all.
There was no room for leisure. Not a single miscalculation could be tolerated, not even for an instant.
"So lower your guns! Gentlemen! Lower your guns and unite! Together, we are strong! So lower your guns! Even if I fail today, I will become a martyr today! So, my brothers in the struggle alliance! Lower your guns!"
With that final cry, I was arrested. Bavarian reporters captured the scene and spread it far and wide.
And so, on November 10, 1923, around 1 p.m., a mere force of 200 soldiers halted a street march of 20,000. No—the 20,000 had abandoned the march themselves. It was a scene beyond common sense, incomprehensible.
"What?! Why the hell! Why did Falkenrain make that decision without even consulting me?!"
"This is no time for that, General Ludendorff. Military police are deploying to Munich as well."
"..."
Ludendorff received the news late: that Falkenrain had surrendered meekly to play the martyr. It shocked him. If they just broke the encirclement and pushed to Berlin, it would recreate the March on Rome...!
Clutching his forehead at the report, Ludendorff groaned.
"That damned brat! And I trusted him so much...!"
"General...? You need to evacuate now."
"Forget it. Get out."
"General..."
Ludendorff thought it through. This whole "German Struggle Alliance" business had been a sham from the start. Falkenrain was the man who had taken Anton Drexler's DAP and transformed it into DDRAP, Bavaria's premier regional party. There was no way he'd surrendered for some idealistic notion of unity and avoiding fratricide. This had to mean some political deal had gone down behind the scenes. And in that deal, Ludendorff himself had been sold out without a say. That was the rational conclusion.
Bang!Bang!Bang!
"Open the door, Ludendorff! It's over! You're under arrest for high treason!"
Ludendorff—seething with betrayal and disgust toward Falkenrain—offered no resistance before his capture.
He wasn't alone. Countless members of the "German Struggle Alliance," who had hoped for a re-enactment of the March on Rome, felt profound disappointment. But Falkenrain's inner circle had been briefed in advance. They knew it was all part of the plan...
As per the deal, the "German Struggle Alliance" was disbanded. Some members believed Falkenrain had sold out his comrades for some pie-in-the-sky ideal of unity. The man hailed as Germany's savior now faced a barrage of criticism and condemnation from his own allies.
But Falkenrain had calculated even that.
"First off, Yahn, Strasser, Hanfstaengl. Thank you for trusting me. I'll be out soon."
In truth, only those directly involved in the alliance were arrested—not all key DDRAP figures. Max Amann, Gregor Strasser, and Ernst Hanfstaengl hadn't publicly joined the march, so they went free. Goebbels, not a core member anyway, escaped arrest too. Just as the deal stipulated. The rest would face light questioning at most; real punishment would fall only on the march's ringleaders, and among them, solely on Falkenrain.
And so, Falkenrain was imprisoned in a nearby detention center.
But the world didn't know. This was merely the prelude to the reversal.
As promised, I was summoned before the Bavarian regional court. The trial was public. Eight of us—including me, Krichz, and Ludendorff—were charged with high treason, alongside 32 other key alliance agitators arrested.
But the biggest issue? It was a public trial, presided over by a Bavarian judge. Just like with original-history Hitler. If anything, it favored me more. Hitler had deserved execution but got nine months through the judge's whim. I, meanwhile, had the judicial deal locked in. Plus, the judge and I shared a connection. The ideology of thought.
As I was dragged before the bench, the public trial began. The judge's declaration unleashed a barrage of camera flashes. The flashes of that era were blinding—sometimes so intense you half-expected gunpowder explosions. Crude cameras, poor performance; they needed brutal light to capture anything.
Bang!Bang!Bang!
The judge's gavel silenced the chaos. In the hushed courtroom, the prosecutor outlined the case.
"On November 8, 1923, ringleader Falkenrain and eight others meticulously planned and executed this violent incident. They seized the Munich Beer Hall during a political assembly, taking Supervisory Director Kahr, General Lossow, and Colonel Seisser hostage, and directly proclaimed a dictatorial government. This constitutes treason against the Bavarian state government and rebellion against the German nation, hence the charges."
Before he finished, I stood.
Staring him down, I said, "If you reclaim what was stolen from you—is that also theft?"
"Your Honor! The defendant Falkenrain is speaking without permission."
"Sit down, prosecution."
The judge rebuked the prosecutor instead. Grimacing, he sat.
Now it was my turn. I paced before the bench, sweeping my gaze over the reporters, spectators, and Catalina watching anxiously from the corner. Then I spread my arms wide.
"I admit it. I declared the birth of a new Germany. I ask you, the audience and Your Honor: Is reclaiming what was stolen theft? In 1918, after the Great War's defeat and the Versailles Treaty that followed, the nation called 'Germany' was stolen from its people root and branch. We were robbed!"
My cry deepened the silence. All eyes locked on me. Even the prosecutor who had indicted me stared, captivated by those few words.
"Traitors who fractured the nation stole our state from us! So we sought to reclaim it! Who is the great criminal? Who is the rebel? I ask you! What is it to sell out Germany and cleave it in two? Our brothers in the Ruhr die under French boots! Our people's lives crumble by the moment! You must judge what is true treason and rebellion!"
"Hear, hear!"
The mood flipped in an instant. My trench-honed oratory and rhetoric paid off. What was the real crime? Was self-defense to reclaim Germany criminal? Or was stealing Germany the crime? Those who plunged the nation into the abyss now ruled it, while those trying to pull it out faced treason charges. I hammered the irony.
"I merely heeded the people's demands to reclaim our state! The rightful nation stolen from us Germans! People of the audience! Citizens! Who are the rebels?!"
"The Social Democrats and Communists! The ones trying to divide Germany!"
"The vermin gnawing at Germany's foundations! Free Falkenrain!"
Jeers erupted from the gallery. Cheers exploded with every word I spoke. I turned to the judge, noting his flushed face, and set my expression resolute.
"Yet! Even so! I could not bring myself to aim at my fellow countrymen. I was too weak toward fellow Germans. That weakness ends today. If I am guilty of anything, it is solely the crime of defending the German people and nation!"
"That's right!"
"Falkenrain!"
I had defended myself perfectly. The judge was moved; even the prosecutor nodded. Applause thundered on, making headlines nationwide.
On February 21, 1924, in the Bavarian court, I turned the trial into my personal stage and made my name echo.
The six other allies, including Krichz, gave brief defenses. Ludendorff said nothing, invoking silence. For high treason, the sentence was three years' imprisonment—a feather-light slap compared to the maximum of execution.