Germany: the ubiquitous “they” throughout this trip, these classes, and all World War II dialogue I had come across prior to this year. The country that annexed the Sudetenland, invaded Poland, blitzed Great Britain, conquered France, and persecuted millions. The other countries that we visited on this trip were, for better or worse, “on our side” throughout the conflict that came to be known as World War II.

My bias-sensors were primed as we started our tour of the German Historical Museum but during my time there I was unable to find any data, opinions, or coverups that went against what I had been taught this school year. The German museums, in my humble opinion, were the most matter-of-fact of any that we visited and did nothing to sugar coat the errors they made and atrocities they committed from 1938-1945. The existence of a Soviet-German War Museum and the Soviet graffiti on the walls of the Reichstag proves how far Germany has come and how willing they are to come to terms with their past. The Reichstag was a particularly fascinating example of how moderate, conscious, and inclusive Germany truly is. Instead of tearing down the building that was set ablaze to bring Germany under military rule, that was nearly destroyed during Operation Clausewitz and the Battle of Berlin, and was vandalized by the victorious Soviets after Berlin fell in May 1945. The post-war 1960’s German government chose to cover these marks of defeat up, but recent movements and reconstruction have chosen to uncover the Russian lettering and make it an integral part of the German parliament building.

Some countries may chose to ignore their past, blur its’ edges, or even re-write their entire national history. It is with great admiration that I conclude that Germany is not one of those nations and has chosen to bravely meet its past head-on, and use it to make their modern state a better place. While it can be argued that Germany had no lee-way to sugar coat their wartime actions during its extensive post-war occupation by foreign powers, I still admire their courage to tell parts of the story that many of the “victors” choose to omit.

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

German Teens on Holiday, 1938. Displayed at German Historical Museum.

I was unsure of what Germany would be like not only in its historical presentation of WWII, but also in its language and culture in comparison to the United States. What I first noticed upon arrival in Berlin was how many people were fluent in English. It seems harder to find someone in the United States who is fluent in two or more languages, especially if they have lived in the United States their whole lives. Germans are also more straightforward, evident in interactions I had with them and also in the way they present their history. When we went to the German Historical Museum, which is the national museum for German history, the designers of the museum laid out very plainly how Hitler took control of Germany. As the museum weaves through the years before, during, and after WWII, it is much more factual than emotional. The German Historical Museum was also very different than other places we have visited because there was a stronger focus on what happened prior to the start of the war and after the war ended rather than actually during it. In the United States and in the other countries we visited as a class, there is more of an emphasis on the events in the war. Due to this focus within the German Historical Museum, I gained more detailed knowledge as a historian about how Germany as a country views and understands their own history before 1939 and after 1945. In most of the places we went in Berlin, the people who design the museums do not shy away or make excuses for the events of WWII and the deaths of millions of people at the hands of the Nazis. Even in the Topography of Terror Museum, which showcases how the Nazis executed their plans during their control, it provokes reactions but shares the information with little emotion, only to tell what actually happened. In one instance, a picture of laughing Nazi men and women had a caption that said they took a break from murdering people at one of the concentration camps to take the photo. The Topography of Terror Museum also had many photos that I had never seen before in classes I have taken about WWII, mostly the photos of lower-ranking Nazi men and women. This museum was very matter-of-fact in the way they acknowledge the roles of Germans in carrying out the murders of millions of people, identifying them clearly through their use of pictures and text to convey the history.

I was also unaware by how much Germany, particularly Berlin, ingrains WWII and its aftermath into their culture. In the United States, there are obviously memorials, museums, and statues commemorating WWII, but not to the same extent as there are in Berlin, and especially not to the same extent in looking at the aftermath. One of the biggest examples in Berlin of how culturally significant the war is in Berlin would be the markers and remnants of the Berlin Wall. Another example of how WWII still affects Germany is in the Reichstag Building. The Reichstag Building is where the German Parliament meets. On our tour of the building, our guide talked often of the efforts made to make everyone happy and equally represented, from the design of the building itself to the setup of the German Parliament. As a class we learned how WWII still affected the culture of the government. The guide explained that the president is now more like a figurehead and has a smaller role in the government. The Germans have organized their government to insure as much as they can that no one person will gain as much power as Hitler did again.

From its prevalent street art to booming businesses, the city of Berlin is a modern haven amidst the antiquated, historic cities of central Europe. Additionally, Berlin has a strong tie to its history, and the city’s character is built around that connection. Out of the four countries we visited, Germany was the most adamant about building its present and future on the lessons learned from the past. This ideology is evident in how Germany deals with its turbulent past with complete openness; the country does not ignore the messiness and does not try to overshadow it with the seemingly cleaner parts of their history. Instead, Germany faces the facts straight on.

The country has achieved a level of transparency in dealing with their history that translates into the transparency they keep with their government. Our visit to the Reichstag was my favorite thing we did in Berlin and one of my favorite things we have done over the past month because the building so clearly illustrated the transparency between the state and its people in its architecture and symbolism. As a Reichstag worker took us around the building, the symbolism became more and more evident. The most striking feature for me was in the main hall where parliament meets. On the second level of this hall is where the media and citizens can sit-in on meetings, and, as with most things in the building, this setup has symbolism. Traditionally, the boss sits above the rest of the people, so when the citizens sit above parliament, they are meant to be watching and keeping the government in line. This symbolic feature of the Reichstag is one of many features that utilize the events of the past to direct the course of the future.

While I could clearly see the history of the war in every country, Germany by far was the most productive with their history. There are elements around the city that remind residents and visitors alike of the events of WWII, but the city does more than just remember the events; they build this history into their future, fostering a contemporary culture of remembrance and constructiveness.

There was no better place to end my month long stay in Europe than Berlin, Germany. Berlin is a lively and vibrant city whose streets seem to seep with both history and modernity. In my short time there, I found the city to be full of contrast, with remnants from Germany’s tumultuous past preserved alongside the city’s newer additions, buildings that have emerged under contemporary efforts to move forward from that past. The majority of the city as it exists today has been rebuilt in the time since WWII. Yet it was nearly impossible to walk down a street in Berlin without coming across a memorial or marker calling back to the city’s complex and unsteady history. Segments of the city’s infamous wall, for instance, are still scattered throughout Berlin, acting as lasting evidence of the days of Cold War division. Near a popular metro station, the ruin of a magnificent former train station rises as a testament to a past age of prominence, destroyed by the violence of war. And tucked away down a side street, a bronze statue of a pair of Jewish children, arms laden with suitcases and supplies, stands dedicated to the Kindertransports, the pre-war effort to remove young children targeted by Nazi discrimination from their increasingly desperate situation in Germany. These scattered testaments to history, present across Berlin, help to materialize Germany’s national identity, which is rooted in a deep determination not to forget its past.

Memorial to the Kindertransports entitled “Trains to Life, Trains to Death”

The clash of old and new was perhaps none more so apparent than in the reconstructed Reichstag building, which houses the contemporary German parliament. The building’s contrasting design is apparent from its exterior, which combines the stone façade from the original building—burned down during World War II—with a very modern all-glass dome resting on top. This juxtaposition extends into the building’s interior. The main parliamentary room consists of bright blue chairs, and the adjoining spaces—though decorated only sparsely—contain the works of modern artists from the United States, Britain, and Russia. As our excellent and engaging tour guide explained, these bold choices were made in part as an effort to make a complete break from the past, separating the new democratic government from the corrupt regime of old. However, Germany has found a way to navigate this break while still acknowledging the past and its lessons. On the lower floor of the Reichstag, portions of the old Reichstag brick have been preserved and incorporated into the new walls. These segments from the original building are still covered in the graffiti of Soviet soldiers, who marked their victory with coal or chalk when they reached the center of Berlin in 1945. The Reichstag’s combination of new and old features seems to successfully reflect Germany’s modern identity, which has had to emerge out of its dark past and root itself in a progressive and functional new beginning.

Interior of the Reichstag building, beneath the glass dome

Throughout this trip, my experience has been inherently effected by my own national identity. As an American, the narrative of WWII that I have grown up with is the story as defined by the Allies, the victors. Berlin presented me with the opportunity to explore the ways in which the defeated tell history. This is a feat that Germany has taken on with exceptional poise and honesty. Of all the places I have been to on this tour, Berlin seemed to treat the war with the most directness. Rather than shy away from its own brutal role in the war and its horrors, Germany has committed itself to a truthful, open and unblemished historical retelling. This is apparent throughout the city, in everything from the Reichstag, to the “stepping stone” plaques in the sidewalks that memorialize the deported, to the large Holocaust memorial in the center of the city. It is also apparent in Berlin’s museums. The German historical museum, for example, dedicates a very large space to its exhibit on the rise, reign and fall of the Third Reich, acknowledging that this period of time is as much a part of German history as the nation’s brighter moments.

Out of all the German museums we visited, my personal favorite was the Topography of Terror museum, which resides on the plot of the old SS headquarters building. This museum consists entirely of photographs and text, which made for a surprisingly powerful experience. Pictures of gestapo members vacationing and laughing were hung side by side with images of the horrible crimes they committed. Photos of Hitler and Himmler playing with small children rested beside photos of Jewish death camps. The captions to these images were straightforward and blunt to the point of being startling. One image of Auschwitz guards laughing and playing music, for instance, was captioned with the striking “taking a break from mass murder.” These captions were profound, and the exhibit as a whole was incredibly thought provoking. As I discussed with several of my fellow comrades afterwards, the photographs on display were not ones that we had seen before, despite our extensive study of WWII. The images of the Nazis that are widely dispersed and present in the history books tend to depict these men as calculated, serious and cold. Because of this, it can be easy to write Hitler and his party off as monsters. The Topography of Terror offered a reminder that the Nazis were in fact human, and that their capacity to commit evil atrocities is perhaps all the more frightening because of that fact.

Photographs on display at the Topography of Terror depicting Auschwitz guards taking a break

Germany’s ability to account for its past has led me to reflect on how we in America convey our own history. Like Germany, the United States is a nation with its fair share of dark moments. Since my time in Berlin, I have thought a lot about how we as a nation deal with the shameful moments in our own history. Although the United States may have been on the right side of WWII, we still seem to struggle with coming to terms with other, darker parts of our past. American classrooms and museums tend to skirt over issues like our treatment of Native Americans, slavery, Civil Rights, and the Vietnam War. These are events of immense importance that have had a massive impact on the U.S.A.’s political, social, and cultural climate today. I believe Germany’s response to WWII offers insight into how one can maintain pride and patriotism towards his nation while still acknowledging the moments when his country has been in the wrong. Because of this, I believe America would do well to take a page out of Germany’s book. As I make my return to the states, it is with the revitalized hope that the U.S. will grow to acknowledge the times in which it, too, has acted as an oppressive and corrupt nation. After all, if I have taken anything away from this trip, it is the immense importance of public history, and in extension, a deep appreciation for the ways in which the past can and should endure.

Segment of the Berlin Wall, now part of the East Side Art Gallery

After bopping around Poland for a few days, the comrades and myself then travelled to Berlin on May 26^th. The historical journey leading up to our arrival in Berlin really set the stage for the sites and museums that we visited there. In London, the history of WWII was portrayed very much the same as it is in America, as this history was written by the victors. In France and then Poland, that history became a little bit different, coming from the perspectives of two nations that were occupied by Nazi Germany. After visiting Poland, where the people seemed very much in denial of their own role in the Holocaust and World War II, Berlin felt like a breath of fresh air. However, this feeling was short lived.

At first, it felt as though the German portrayal of the history of World War II aligned almost exactly with what we learned in our Spring studies of the topic. But then the closer we read into the information presented to us, it became clear that something was missing. The German presentation of World War II is very matter-of-fact. Every museum that we visited seemed to lay out a very objective story, void of emotion, but full of reality. The German Historical Museum was the most notable in this sense. The museum was filled with information about the end of World War I, through the modernization and “Americanization” of Germany in the late 1900’s. However, I felt as though the information was fragmented and sometimes hard to follow. No section about the war seemed to be missing, but the museum did not tell a complete story. It merely presented the facts as though they were sufficient in telling the narrative of Germany during the war. A mere presentation of the facts is definitely not sufficient when telling the story of the Third Reich and Nazi Germany. This feeling that something was missing from the narrative also troubled me when we visited the Wannsee House. The exhibition inside did a tremendous job of telling the story of the Third Reich and the top Nazi officials who met there in January 1942. However, even the room that focused specifically on those individuals neglected to explain just how they arrived at the positions that led them to the Wannsee Conference.

The many sites and buildings that we visited in Berlin serve as a reminder, not just to Germany, but to the rest of the world, of the tragic events that occurred there during the 20^th century. The German government, down to the reconstruction of the Reichstag building, has put in place many measures that will, hopefully, keep any official from gaining the power to commit such acts again. While the structure of the government is ultimately the path that Hitler used to gain power, it was not the only factor that allowed him to consolidate the Third Reich under his command. What seems to be missing from the German historical record is the political, emotional, and social environment that produced a leader such as Adolf Hitler. These aspects are just as important, if not more so, than the methods Hitler used to gain power. After all, it was the people of Germany, not the structure of the government or the Treaty of Versailles, that produced a leader powerful and depraved enough to begin the Second World War.

Though my time in Germany was disrupted with an overnight hospital stay and some time off due to illness, I learned a lot from the sites I was able to visit. In Berlin I found the Reichstag and the Holocaust Memorial to really speak to the history of the nation in addition to what I learned in my Spring studies at Ohio State. The Third Reich and the rule of Nazism over Germany before and during the Second World War is clearly a dark time in German history. The German initiative to acknowledge and move forward from this history as a nation was exemplified through their historical markers and strivings to change their representation through symbols such as architecture.

We were lucky enough to have a brilliantly thorough and knowledgeable tour guide for our tour of the Reichstag. The decision processes that went into the creation and building of the new German Reichstag and central government buildings after the Second World War and following the Cold War were extensive and complicated. As is also apparent in our own country, politics extend further than power and policy. Political influences went into the entirety of the process of building and adorning the Reichstag, from the location to the seat colors. All decisions were influenced both by partisan pressures and by the persistent goal to move away from anything that ties the new Germany to the old Nazi Germany.

Coming to Germany from Poland, where we visited Auschwitz and learned more about the devastation and demise that came about as a result of Nazi Germany, our perceptions began with bitterness and sadness. I was particularly interested in seeing how the Germans were going to acknowledge their nation’s past actions, as I studied Polish Society Under German Occupation for my specialization on this trip. I found that museums did little justice to this necessary acknowledgement, but I was impressed by how moving the Holocaust Memorial was. It was centrally located with the most important buildings, such as the Reichstag, which symbolized its importance to the history. The Holocaust Memorial represented a determination to keep such a tragedy from happening in the future while it also showed the build-up to genocide and loss that occurred. I however believe that the reality of the genocide that took place in the name of Germany should be approached in a way that better expresses its value as amongst the worst acts of humanity more clearly through museums and other historical reminders .

It was incredibly interesting to see the way that Germany wrestles with its past regarding World War II. Despite being the main perpetrators of the atrocities of World War II, I was left with a feeling of appreciation for how Germany has dealt with the war. This was evident all throughout Berlin. We were lucky enough to get a tour of the Bundestag, Germany’s parliament building. During this tour, our group saw how even the architecture of their parliament and governmental buildings reflects their attempt to deal with WWII and Nazism. Mainly, these features represent their distaste for strong federal power and leadership and their efforts to engage citizens in democracy. I was struck with the openness and accessibility of the Bundestag, which was done as an effort to create more participation in government by German citizens. The architecture of the city, which was almost completely rebuilt after World War II, also has deep metaphorical meaning relating to the war. The Holocaust memorial, a sprawling concrete structure, is placed basically in the center of the city, just down the street from the famous Brandenburg Gate and the United States embassy. Russian memorials can also be found in very central locations in Berlin as well, such as the Russian war memorial in the Tiergarten. This memorial still contains two large Russian tanks overlooking Berlin’s most famous park. Almost 75 years after the conflict ended, Germany still has enemy tanks within its capital city of Berlin.

These structures and memorials are a part of daily life and serve as a reminder to the German people of the consequences of Nazism. The willingness of the German people to take ownership of their faults and work to never forget WWII was incredibly impressive. This was in stark contrast to the way that both Poland and France refuse to adequately deal with their history of collaboration with Nazism and the holocaust. I feel that Germany is a model nation for confronting its troubling past and attempting to prevent injustice from occurring in the future.

We have had a very unique opportunity to compare how different countries present and memorialize their own national history. Traveling from London to France to Poland to finally ending our excursion in Germany, we have grown beyond simply taking in knowledge and began to criticize and compare how a nation grapples with their own – often complicated, morbid, and cruel – history when the eyes of the world are watching.

I found Berlin’s presentation their World War II involvement especially unique. The city is a cultural mecca of music, art, and history, whose most recent decades are characterized by the Berlin wall’s separation of Germany. However, unlike many nations we have seen, Berlin has not swept aside their past, but embraced it as they created and rebuilt the city after the war. The city is distinctly modern in its architecture; however, its WWII and Cold War past are still apparent and noticeably reminiscent. Berlin, above all, has gone further than any other city we have visited to keep national memory at the forefront of its architecture, culture, and politics.

The Bundestag tour we went on showcased this concept prominently. The parliamentary building acts more as a museum than a government building. Our tour guide pointed out how the space is drenched in purposeful symbolism following its reconstruction – the placement of the public viewers above parliament members, the transparency of the dome on top, the juxtaposition of the old Reichstag’s architectural style and the modern art that currently hangs on the walls. Instead of erasing the nation’s more shameful memories, the building memorializes its past and uses these physical features as an opportunity to remember. The names of Soviet soldiers who stormed the Reichstag are preserved along one hallway in the Bundestag and the original architecture commemorating Germany’s three emperors is kept lining the stone arch entryway.

Soviet soldiers’ names inscribed on a wall from the storming of the Reichstag in May 1945.

Seeing the Bundestag from the public’s point of view. The chairs are a specially made blue color that no German party is allowed to use as their own.

At the end of WWII, Germany was in shambles. On their recent historical scorecard, they tallied two lost wars, the genocide of over 6 million Jewish people, and the failure of numerous attempts at a unified government. At the Potsdam Conference in 1945, Germany’s postwar fate was decided; their new economy was planned, its borders were redrawn, and the country was divided among the Allies. An independent German government ceased to exist and was replaced by the governing forces of the Allied powers. These measures were taken to ensure lasting peace in a post-WWII world. For much of the next half century, the world watched Germany, curious to see how they would rebuild under such circumstances. In the West, occupied by the Americans, British, and French, was the Federal Republic of Germany, and in the East, occupied by Russia, was the communist German Democratic Republic. Germany’s ensuing “rebuilding” period took place under the tension of the Cold War, a conflict between democracy and communism that would not be resolved until the 1990s. Nonetheless, Germany slowly began to rebuild themselves, and today is considered an exemplar of reconciling one’s brutal history.

Cecilienhof Palace, where the Potsdam Conference of 1945 was held.

No modern war, with the exception of the Civil War, has been fought in the continental United States. To see the physical and political remnants of a war almost 75 years later was an informative experience. The effects of the war and the ensuing occupation is echoed throughout Berlin, the epicenter of German culture and politics. The Reichstag building reverberates Germany’s new idea of democracy and attempts to deal with their turbulent past. In very particular details, the Reichstag building symbolizes the German government’s attempt at a truly democratic political system. Today, the Reichstag building is where the Bundestag, or German parliament, meets. Upon entering the building, visitors instantly notice how devoid it is of decoration. This is because each decoration with cultural influence from one state must be matched with the same type of decoration for every other state. As a result, the Reichstag must either be distractingly filled with decorations, or lack any decoration at all. In the interest of parsimony, they chose the latter. Another aspect of the building that is hard to miss is the large glass dome on the top. This dome symbolizes the transparency of the government, allowing citizens to look down into the main hall where their representatives are. Inside the chamber, the stands for the public are placed above the representatives to symbolize the people being above their elected officials. These particular details, aimed at pleasing all citizens, clearly demonstrate that Germany is determined to move on from their dark past. Finally, one of the most striking remnants of the war is the Russian graffiti that has been memorialized on the walls of the Reichstag. When Russia invaded Berlin in 1945, many soldiers left graffiti on the inside of the Reichstag, which was preserved and now displayed in the Reichstag. To me, this is a statement from the German government that they are not ashamed by their distressing past.

Graffiti from Soviet invasion in 1945. Notice the different dates in the graffiti.

The intense pressure on post-war Germany to deal with the mistakes of their past led to their display of an objective public history of the war. Throughout Berlin there are numerous other instances of the memorialization of their transgressions. The German History Museum presents a narrative that does not shy away from the atrocities committed during the war or attempt to overstate any resistance to the Third Reich. The Topography of Terror Museum is wholly dedicated to documenting the atrocities of the Nazi regime. The many pieces of the Berlin Wall throughout the city commemorate a pressurized period of German history. In many ways, there is no attempt at presenting a nationalistic view of German culture, something completely different from the United States and our ethnocentric attitudes. There are many aspects of American history that are glossed over in the interest of forgetting our dark past. While there are attempts at memorializing our wrongdoings in the United States, we should take an objective look at how we present our darkest moments at a country in the same way Germany has attempted to do so.

The main hall of the Reichstag.

It may be a cliché, but everything in London just felt ancient.  There are castles and cathedrals from medieval times, books way older than the U.S., and countless artifacts stolen by the British resting in the British Museum.  I think it gives cities there a much smaller and cozier feel as the buildings are squat and tightly packed.  London was the third city that I went to on this tour of Europe and it was the first that had genuine skyscrapers and even those were confined to a limited part of the city.  New York may be the closest U.S. contemporary to London, just in terms of sheer size and history, but New York is still very young and there are hardly any remnants of the old city left.  One of the biggest surprises that London gave was how clean it was.  The air may have been terrible, but the streets and the Underground are practically spotless.  Another surprise that London had for me was how each part of the city had its own distinct feeling and look, almost like New York and its boroughs.

Paris, on the other hand, has such a distinct style throughout the city that it was hard to tell which neighborhood I was actually in without significant landmarks.  The city’s style is graceful and beautiful, but it simply gets boring.  If I couldn’t see the Le Sacre Coeur while I was in Montmartre (there is an excellent Dali exhibit there, by the way), I could have been in the Latin Quarter instead and not know the difference.  There are two areas in Paris that stand out from the others in my mind, however.  At night, the Champs de Mars is unlike anything I have ever seen.  The park is alive with Parisians and tourists, and people trying to make a quick buck selling wine and champagne, all gazing at the beautiful Eiffel Tower lit up before them.  Montmartre is the other area that will always stand out for me because of the good memories I shared with several of my comrades.  Nothing compares to sitting on the steps of Le Sacre Coeur at midnight while bartering for cheap drinks and listening to street musicians.

Krakow is as old as London or Paris, but the city shows its age in every neighborhood and lacks the modern skyscrapers of the other two cities.  The Old Town of the city dates back to the middle ages and the surrounding neighborhoods feel like they haven’t changed significantly since the 18^th century.  I’m sure every street corner has history, but you would never know it unless you asked.  The Jewish Quarter of Krakow has sidewalk restaurants with live music that rotates from venue to venue every fifteen minutes.  With the right people by your side, dinner can continue an hour past when you finished your meal and you won’t even notice.  I know I didn’t.  This city has heavy history from World War II and it takes a lot of contemplation and discussion to begin to comprehend it.  It’s not perfect dinner conversation, but that’s what you talk about when you eat with a bunch of history students.

In all actuality, Berlin as the city we know it today is only twenty or thirty years old.  Not only was the city almost leveled by the Allied bombing campaigns and the Soviet invasion, but East and West Berlin were reunified beginning in 1990.  I think this is why Berlin was my favorite city.  The city felt fresh and new and chose to confront its enormous baggage rather than hide it.  The new German parliament, the Bundestag, exemplifies this by reclaiming the building of the German parliament of the Weimar Republic and making it symbolic of the new German state.  The design of the building places heavy emphasis on transparency of the government and placing the people of Germany above the government.  While the city was recently rebuilt, it carries its history from the war with it.  A small plaque commemorating a Jewish victim of the Holocaust may be found outside of a beer garden, grocery store, or even your hotel.  Sites of extreme evil, like the former SS headquarters, are now museums dedicated to educating the public about the atrocities committed by the Third Reich.  Berlin may be ashamed of its history, but it does not try to hide it as the city moves forward.  I find it very inspiring that victims of the Third Reich can be remembered right outside a place meant for enjoying the company of friends and I’m not sure that I can find this in the US.  It may be hard to find a memorial to murdered slaves in the deep south, or to find a museum dedicated to educating about the Native American reservation system in the plains state.  Maybe the US can learn from Germany about dealing with generations of baggage and do some remembering instead of neglecting.

The first picture below shows the exterior of the Bundestag, which is the old Reichstag.  In order to reclaim the building from its difficult past, the new German Republic built their parliament in the husk of the Reichstag but made significant changes to the building, such as large windows and an enormous glass dome.  The second picture was taken from the gallery of the Bundestag.  The structure of the parliamentary hall places the public above the government, making a government for the people quite literal.  The final picture is of a Soviet monument in the middle of Berlin.  While it was built almost immediately after the capture of Berlin, it still remains as a symbol of the Russian conquest of Nazi Germany.