The Reichstag Fire (1)
Falkenrain's first cabinet had been formed, and time flew by. I spent that year advancing discussions with Hjalmar Schacht to rebuild the national economy while rooting out domestic anti-state elements. At the same time, behind the scenes, I dispatched the Wave Corps and a few agents to investigate one particular individual.
"Marinus van der Lubbe. We've found him. Spotted in Amsterdam, Netherlands."
"Finally..."
"My Führer, may I ask if there's any connection to this man?"
Rudolf Hess shot me a puzzled glance as he asked. Why go to such lengths to track down a Dutch bricklayer communist? He was bound to be curious.
I knew exactly who he was, thanks to my knowledge of the future. He was the man who would later ignite the Reichstag Fire. And that fire would serve as the launchpad for the Enabling Act. In a way, it was inevitable that I'd seek him out. After all, I wanted to be the Führer of the nation, not just the party. I needed the opportunity he would create.
"He's the key. That communist bastard is going to set our parliament ablaze."
"Führer? What do you mean...?"
"You'll see. Oh, and Hess—summon Göring for me."
The man best suited for this job was none other than Hermann Göring. It was time to give him his first mission now that he'd recently joined our party. This would also let me test his loyalty on the side.
Hermann Göring received his first mission: Make contact with 'Marinus van der Lubbe' via an agent, then lure him to Germany and prod him into action to 'save communism and the international.'"
"Help a communist...?"
Göring couldn't grasp the mission at first. Why bring a communist to Germany? But he soon set aside his doubts.
"You'll make contact with van der Lubbe. Disguise yourself thoroughly as a communist."
"Understood."
He dispatched a subordinate, who successfully brought van der Lubbe to Germany. Afterward, they selected a few men who had once been in the German Communist Party but had since defected, placing them around him for observation.
Van der Lubbe settled into the lodging provided by Göring's subordinate, job-hunting and steadily putting down roots. By night, he attended Communist Party meetings and devoured communist literature, seething with hatred for Germany as it trended rightward.
I... I have to change this.
February 23, 1932. Van der Lubbe met a communist. His face was grim, and he fidgeted restlessly.
"You're Comrade van der Lubbe, right?"
"Yes. What is it?"
"I know you're a fervent communist. This isn't the place to talk—let's move somewhere else."
Van der Lubbe didn't suspect a thing. If the man meant him harm, he'd have reported him to the nearby police station. After all, the current Germany treated communists like 'pro-Soviet traitors.' But he hadn't. Plus, the man's distinctive attire was familiar from communist gatherings.
So he followed, unaware he was being tailed.
Van der Lubbe's every move was reported back to the DDRAP.
"Why did you want to see me?"
"Straight to the point: Germany's communist comrades are in danger. This situation is insane."
"What can I do?"
"Join us. We can't stand by and watch the German International dissolve. We have to burn down the Reichstag."
"What...?"
"The culprit behind all this is that reactionary Falkenrain. He's cracking down on communists, rallying the opposition. We need to paralyze the government and deal a massive blow to the Falkenrain cabinet."
Van der Lubbe thought it over. It was all true. Falkenrain's rise and the First Falkenrain Cabinet were a death sentence for communism. Sit idly by and die? Or fight back? The German Communist Party had no choice. The question was who would carry it out.
That's why the proposal came to a die-hard like van der Lubbe.
Of course, this had nothing to do with the actual German Communist Party. The man suggesting he torch the Reichstag was, in truth, a DDRAP agent.
"Comrade, I'll do it. If things go south, I can flee back to my homeland. Let me handle it."
"You plan to do it all alone? Naturally, there are others to assist. Welcome as the third member of the plot, comrade."
And so, van der Lubbe volunteered for the Reichstag Fire.
February 25, 1932. He met the two other 'members' for the deed. Their meeting was duly recorded by tails.
He received detailed plans: when and where to set the fire. The three agreed to torch the Reichstag in one go. Van der Lubbe took the edge—easiest escape.
February 28, 1932. Preparations complete. The big day: March 11. They slipped quietly into Berlin.
"My Führer, are you really going to let them run loose? What if they actually set the Reichstag ablaze?"
"Göring, that's precisely the point."
"Do you have some plan in mind?"
"A crisis is an opportunity. When none presents itself, create one. I'll let his fire happen, then swoop in to arrest communists en masse. Politics must be proactive, Göring. Sometimes, even burning down parliament whole."
"..."
Göring was stunned into silence by my apparent madness. But it was utterly rational. Like original-history Hitler, I was turning crisis into opportunity. The difference? He merely seized what came; I designed and calculated mine.
I had no intention of letting the Reichstag burn to the ground. We needed it.
"I knew you'd understand, Göring. That's why I called you aside."
"Thank you for your trust, my Führer. I won't disappoint."
"Göring, remember: Sometimes, small sacrifices are necessary."
Göring nodded and left. I unfolded the newspaper.
The gold collection drive was going well. Participation started low, but scientists joining turned the tide. Even France and Britain were parodying it with their own campaigns. Everyone aped Germany to beat the Depression.
These foreign reactions were repackaged as national pride and reimported to Germany. After all, these movements traced back to me.
The collected gold filled the treasury, funding public works that breathed life into the economy. But it wasn't enough. To escape the Depression, we needed something bigger.
In the original timeline, they used Mefo bills as currency to solve it.
Germany's economic model was a war economy. The core of the German New Deal was rearmament, and with Versailles limiting arms, they devised Mefo bills: Issue promissory notes for arms without formally increasing military spending, achieving miraculous growth.
But I couldn't use it yet.
First, sideline Hindenburg.
As long as Hindenburg lived, such a gamble was off-limits. And wielding Hjalmar Schacht freely was tricky—the chancellor's powers were limited.
But soon. The chancellor would eclipse the president, eventually merging the roles. It wouldn't take long.
March 11, 1932. The arson targeting the Reichstag—the former German parliament building—unfolded exactly as Göring reported.
"Van der Lubbe has been arrested. His accomplices never showed at the Reichstag. In his naivety, he acted alone."
Indeed. Even his comrades were fake. It was all a meticulously laid trap.
Unlike the original timeline, this Reichstag Fire—advanced by a year—only scorched the outskirts, sparing total destruction.
Events accelerated. I rushed to the scene and told reporters the last man inside was a Communist Party member: 'The work of communists and the Communist Party.'
Once that interview ignited, counterarguments drowned in the uncontrollable spread of information.
My time was coming.