Horst Jänichen

Born in 1931 in Berlin. In April 1946, Horst Jänichen was arrested by the Soviet Ministry for State Security (MGB). The 15-year-old was one of thousands of young people at the time who were wrongfully suspected of belonging to the Werwolf – a Nazi guerilla organization. After his release in 1948, he spoke openly about his internment in the camps and distributed flyers in East Berlin. He joined a political resistance movement, the Fighting Group against Inhumanity (Kampfgruppe gegen Unmenschlichkeit – KgU). As a result, he was arrested again in December 1950 by the newly founded GDR Ministry for State Security (the Stasi).

Why were you arrested in 1946?

When the war was over, I wasn’t taken prisoner, so I returned home and went back to school. On April 23^rd, 1946, I was arrested under suspicion of being a Werwolf. Like others my age, I never was a Werwolf, but that didn’t stop the Russians from arresting a large number of young people and locking them up in a camp. I was jailed in a basement cell in Friedrichsfelde, and from there I was taken to Speziallager 3 in Hohenschönhausen, which later became the main jail of the Soviet Secret Service in the Soviet zone of occupation. From 1951, this underground jail – known as the “submarine” – was used by the GDR Ministry for State Security (the Stasi).

How were you arrested?

I was arrested at home, and they took me to Friedrichsfelde, where I was placed in a secret police basement jail, which had been set up in an apartment block. It was a very warm spring in April 1946. On the last day of vacation, the doorbell rang at 5:50 am. Two men in civilian clothes stood at the door. One of them was wearing a trench coat, and underneath that you could see the collar of a Russian uniform. “Are you Horst Jänichen? Please come with us.”

I was told to bring a pillow and a blanket. They said it might take two or three days. My mother said, “Put on skiing pants and a jacket.” It was very warm, and I protested. Thank god mothers usually get their way. I put on the jacket and the skiing pants, which meant that I had something warm to wear during the cold winters in the underground jail. Other prisoners had been arrested in the summer wearing short sleeve shirts, and they had to stand for role call in that clothing during the winter cold. So in that sense, I was lucky.

What happened after that?

I was sent from Hohenschönhausen to the former Nazi concentration camp at Sachsenhausen, and wasn’t released until two years later. When they released us, they swore us to secrecy. We weren’t allowed to talk about the appalling conditions that we had experienced in the Soviet internment camp.

How were you treated?

We were allowed to sleep from 10:00 pm to 6:00 am, and they questioned us at night. But we couldn’t sleep during the day. That was regularly checked. You could sit down, but that was all, and it had to be in the middle of the bunk. So you weren’t allowed to lean back. That was strictly enforced. If you fell asleep once, you had to stand for an hour. I was in this cellar for six weeks. During these six weeks, I wasn’t allowed to bathe once. In the first cell where I was placed, there was a man who must have been around 40 years old. At first, I thought he had a screw loose. He looked like he’d totally gone to seed. He’d been vegetating there for three months. A quarter of a year without a bath, a quarter of a year without shaving, a quarter of a year without a haircut, a quarter of a year without combing his hair, and that’s just how he looked. We youngsters were better off – at least we didn’t have to shave yet.

How were you questioned?

People were physically abused during interrogations. I didn’t experience a single interrogation in which I wasn’t slapped at least once. They punched and kicked us.

How were things after your release?

I never saw my mother again. She had already died in October 1946. But I didn’t find out until two years later, after my release. I rang the doorbell back home, and a woman who was a complete stranger opened the door. My father had a new wife. I had bought flowers with the money that I’d received when I was released, so I took them to the cemetery. My mother had died 500 meters as the crow flies from the camp in Hohenschönhausen, and no one had informed me. I got together with a number of friends. We all remembered the accusations that had been made against the Germans in 1945: “You knew about the atrocities committed by the Nazis, yet you remained silent.” We didn’t want to expose ourselves to such accusations again. We went to West Berlin and joined the KgU and talked about our ordeal in the Soviet internment camps. We were given flyers that we distributed in East Berlin. We made regular trips. With a brush and some paint we would write “F” on the walls. That was the sign of the Fighting Group against Inhumanity, the KgU. People recognized this symbol. And on May 1^st, 1949, we received flyer rockets from the KgU. These rockets consisted of cardboard tubes filled with pieces of paper printed with anti-communist slogans. We fired off the flyer rockets during the May Day demonstrations on Alexanderplatz in East Berlin. On December 29^th, 1950, we were arrested again.

Given your earlier horrendous experience in the prison camp, weren’t you afraid of being arrested again?

I was constantly afraid of being caught again. But you have to believe that you won’t be caught. It’s just like anyone else who is doing something illegal. Of course we knew the risks, especially since we had already been imprisoned. Today, more than half a century later, I would act just as I did back then. But I can only hope that we’ll never have to face a political situation like that again.

How long was your second imprisonment?

I was put in a basement jail again, this time by the East German secret police, the Stasi. A court sentenced me to eight years in prison and the usual atonement measures. During my prison term, I was sentenced to an extra two and a half years for organizing a prison revolt. We had planned to break out of prison. There were ten of us, and if more than three people were involved, it was officially a revolt. This extra two-and-a-half-year sentence was later suspended, but I served the other eight years in Berlin-Rummelsburg, in the “Red Ox” in Halle, and primarily in the infamous Waldheim prison.

What does “the usual atonement measures” mean?

These measures were designed to stigmatize you, and they were common in the GDR until 1958. Atonement measures meant that you couldn’t be a member of a party or a trade union. You weren’t allowed to vote, and you couldn’t be elected. You couldn’t receive funds from public coffers, and you could only live and stay in certain types of housing. You could only work jobs that involved manual labor. For a period of five years after your release, you were not allowed to drive a car or own one. In short, you were stripped of your civil liberties.

Did you know where you were being detained?

That was no secret during my first imprisonment, when I was held by the Russians. It became a secret, however, when I was arrested by the Stasi. During my second arrest, they made me wear a pair of welding goggles and they tied my hands behind my back. In a cramped van, one guard sat next to me and two others sat in front of me. Then we drove off. Normally, it would have been just a 10-minute drive, but we drove for almost an hour. I heard streetcar wheels screeching and I recognized the sound of the elevated rail line. So I knew that we had to be in Schönhauser Allee. That was the only place where there was an elevated line. Suddenly, the elevated line was gone, then it came back, and then it was gone again. That told me that the Stasi was driving in circles. Soon after that they took me to the jail at Hohenschönhausen and removed the goggles.

How did the Stasi put pressure on you?

Actually, putting somebody in a basement jail like this is psychological torture, without anything else being done to you. The Stasi did this with solitary confinement, no connection to the outside, and nothing to do. You had to spend your days waiting around, trying to while away the hours. When you felt like you could finally lie down and sleep, they brought you in for questioning. The next day you had to stay awake, and this made sleep deprivation part of the psychological torture. I’d like to add, however, that I wasn’t beaten by the Stasi. But these long periods of solitary confinement were extremely hard for me. Time just seemed to stand still.

What was the worst part about your confinement?

It’s really hard to say. After the first imprisonment, it was when I came home and found out that my mother had already been dead for so long. At the time, that was the worst part of the whole ordeal. The beatings that the Russians gave me were also terrible. A friend of mine died of TB in the camp. They put the TB patients in special quarters. My friend made me promise to tell his mother after I was released. I kept telling him, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll take care of that yourself.” But I knew that my friend would never leave that prison camp alive. The first woman who I met was his mother. When she heard that I was back home, she asked me, “How is Helmut?” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I told her later. That was really hard. That was an absolutely horrible experience. To have to tell a friend’s mother: “Your son is never coming out again.” At first, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

What happened after your release?

On January 9^th, 1959, I was released from the Waldheim prison. First, I returned to Berlin-Lichtenberg. After I was issued a new identity card, I left East Berlin one day later with the S-Bahn commuter rail line. In West Berlin, I registered myself as a refugee in Berlin-Marienfelde. So I’ve lived in the western part of the city since 1959.

How do you feel about the people who did this to you?

Well, to answer your question, I don’t feel hate. That’s all in the past. It’s history. Perhaps these people acted out of a sense of commitment to their country. I often take visitors on guided tours of the former concentration camp at Sachsenhausen and I’m constantly asked “Is there a difference between the time before 1945 under the Nazis and after 1945 under the Russians?” In my opinion, there are differences. You can compare Gestapo prison cells with Stasi prison cells and cells where prisoners of the Soviet Secret Service were held. There’s hardly any difference. But if you were placed in a camp after the war was over, you were basically left alone. Nobody was physically tortured, and nobody was shot or hanged. People simply vegetated, waiting for the next day, waiting for their death, if you will.

The difference is the following: Before 1945, they were death camps, after 1945 they were camps where people waited to die. On the other hand, when inmates died before 1945, relatives were given an urn with the ashes, whereas the relatives of inmates who died in Soviet internment camps after 1945 still to this day have not received an official death certificate. It’s not a question of whether or not someone was guilty or innocent. Even guilty inmates have the right to humane treatment. Unfortunately, this was not the case in either system.

How do you come to terms with your ordeal?

It all happened a long time ago. In the meantime, I’ve put things into perspective. But it’s always there in the back of your mind. You can’t just take ten and a half years behind bars and sweep it under the rug. You dream, you can’t forget. My wife has woken me on a number of occasions at night. She says: “You were screaming.” It’s always in your subconscious. You can never get rid of it. I don’t really see the guided tours that I give here at the Hohenschönhausen Memorial as a means for me personally to come to terms with what happened. If you’ve spent ten and a half years in prison because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, then it would be a waste of time if you kept your mouth shut when you’re finally allowed to talk. And that’s why I’m here. It all really dawned on me after the fall of the Wall in 1989, when they found mass graves in Sachsenhausen. A friend of mine is buried in a mass grave like that. When the graves were opened, it all came back to me.

You’ve lived in West Berlin since 1959. What did it feel like when you traveled through East Germany?

Up until 1972, I always flew. Once a year, the city of West Berlin offered to pay round-trip airfare to Hanover, West Germany, for political refugees who couldn’t drive through the former Soviet zone of occupation, in other words, through East Germany. From Hanover, you would proceed to your final destination. Following the signing of the Basic Treaty between East and West Germany in 1972, we were released from citizenship in the GDR and were able to travel freely in and out of the country. My parents-in-law lived in Ludwigsfelde, East Germany. They applied for an entry permit so we could come for a visit. I drove with my wife and children, and I was at the wheel. My wife said: “You’re as white as a ghost.” I could see people walking around, back and forth, wearing those uniforms. I said to my wife: “Here, you take the wheel. Give me the papers, I’ll handle everything here.” I was putting on a brave face. It wasn’t until we were back in West Berlin that I actually felt fine again. I tried to act like I didn’t have a care in the world. But in reality, the whole thing had really made an impression on me, and I was always happy when I got back to West Berlin in one piece.

What are your hopes for the future?

Oh, I’m on the home stretch now. You can’t expect much more from me. I only hope that I can continue to live the way that I’ve been able to live over the past few years. You could say I’m satisfied with my life. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that we were released during the height of the Cold War, namely in 1959. We all spent more time behind bars than the inmates who came after us, but people helped us when we got out. For example, we were given jobs in the public sector. People said: “We’ll give you a job, and it’s up to you to make the best of it.” We had a chance to put our lives back together again.

Those who were imprisoned later on in the GDR, if you pardon my French, are really up shit creek without a paddle. They failed to make the grade in East Germany because they were against the system, and they won’t make the grade in the West because they didn’t make the grade in the GDR. They have practically been relegated to the fringes of society. And that has to change.