Introduction
In the annals of World War II history, we often hear about the brave resistance fighters who opposed Nazi rule in occupied countries across Europe. But what about those who fought against Hitler from within Germany itself? Rebecca Donner's book "All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days" shines a light on one such remarkable individual - an American woman named Mildred Harnack who became a key figure in the German resistance movement.
This gripping true story follows Mildred's journey from Wisconsin to Berlin in the 1930s, where she witnessed the rise of the Nazi party and made the courageous decision to stay and fight against Hitler's regime. Over the course of a decade, Mildred and her German husband Arvid built an underground network of resisters, distributed anti-Nazi leaflets, helped Jews escape, and passed critical intelligence to the Allies. Their efforts came at great personal risk and ultimately cost them their lives.
Drawing on extensive research and family archives, Donner (who is Mildred's great-great-niece) reconstructs this little-known chapter of WWII history in vivid detail. She paints a nuanced portrait of life in Nazi Germany and the moral choices faced by ordinary people under extraordinary circumstances. Through Mildred's story, we gain insight into the workings of the German resistance and the bravery of those who dared to oppose Hitler from within the belly of the beast.
A Whirlwind Romance from Wisconsin to Berlin
Mildred Fish came from humble beginnings in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Despite her family's financial struggles, she excelled academically and earned both a bachelor's and master's degree in English. By 1926, at the age of 24, she was teaching American literature at the University of Wisconsin.
It was there that she met Arvid Harnack, a visiting German student who wandered into one of her lectures by mistake. Though he had come to hear a talk on labor unions, Arvid was immediately smitten with the young professor. When he showed up to her next class with a bouquet of wildflowers, a romance quickly blossomed. By the end of the year, Mildred Fish had become Mildred Harnack.
The two made an unlikely but complementary pair. While Mildred came from a working-class background, Arvid was the nephew of Adolf von Harnack, a renowned German theologian who had helped draft the Weimar Constitution. Arvid already had a law degree and was working toward his PhD. Soon after their marriage, the couple made plans to move to Germany so Arvid could complete his doctorate. Mildred would also pursue further studies while teaching American literature at the University of Berlin.
When Mildred arrived in Berlin for the first time in 1929, she was struck by the cosmopolitan energy of the city. On any given street, one might hear German, English, French, Russian, Italian, Polish, or Dutch being spoken. But beneath the surface, there were signs of trouble brewing. Germany was in the grips of a severe economic crisis, with poverty and homelessness visible everywhere Mildred looked.
One encounter in particular stayed with her - seeing a destitute woman on the street wearing a dress just like one Mildred's mother used to own. It was a stark reminder of how quickly fortunes could change and how thin the line between comfort and desperation could be.
Mildred and Arvid bonded over their shared commitment to social causes and desire to help the less fortunate. For Arvid, this led him to make periodic trips to Moscow as part of a group called ARPLAN (Working Group for the Study of the Soviet Planned Economy). At the time, the Soviet economy was booming, and some Germans like Arvid thought its ideas could help lift Germany out of its economic doldrums.
Neither of them realized it at the time, but Arvid's involvement with ARPLAN would have profound consequences for both their lives in the years to come. It planted the seeds for their future resistance work and connections to Soviet intelligence.
Work, Freedom, Bread: The Nazi Rise to Power
As the 1930s dawned, there were reasons for Mildred and Arvid to feel cautiously optimistic about Germany's future. The economy had been slowly recovering since the hyperinflation crisis of 1923. And the progressive Weimar Constitution of 1919 had ushered in an era of expanded civil liberties and equality. Women could vote, censorship was largely banned, and there was religious freedom. This had sparked an artistic and intellectual renaissance in Berlin.
But there was also an undercurrent of tension simmering beneath the surface. As one German writer put it, there was a persistent feeling that "someday all of this will suddenly burst apart." That day came sooner than many expected.
In July 1932, Mildred gave what would be her final lecture at the University of Berlin. Though no official reason was given for her dismissal, it wasn't hard to connect the dots. For two years, she had been lecturing on American authors like William Faulkner and Theodore Dreiser, whose works shed light on social injustice and the plight of the working class. Mildred didn't shy away from drawing parallels to the hardships facing many Germans and the troubling rise of the Nazi party.
Just days after Mildred's last lecture, a pivotal election was held. The Nazi party, which had earned less than 3% of the vote in 1928, now captured 37% - making them the largest party in the German parliament. Their populist slogan of "Work! Freedom! Bread!" resonated with many struggling Germans.
In a letter to her mother, Mildred explained that facing the threat of poverty, many Germans had concluded things had been better in the past. They thought a return to "a more absolute government" was the answer. As a result, fascism was on the rise.
Yet at this point, many still weren't panicking about the Nazi gains. Hitler was widely seen as a buffoon and was often mocked in the press. He had run for president in 1930 and been soundly defeated. There was a belief that the established political system and more experienced politicians would keep Hitler and the Nazis in check.
This complacency would prove to be tragically misplaced. Within months, a series of events would radically transform Germany and set it on the path to dictatorship.
A Fire That Changed Everything
There had been warning signs about the Nazi party's true intentions for those willing to see them. Hitler had already published his manifesto, Mein Kampf, which laid out his virulently anti-Semitic and anti-democratic views. Though few had actually read it, both left and right-wing press had dismissed it as unhinged ravings.
More alarmingly, in 1932 the newspaper Münchener Post published a story about the Nazi party's secret "Cell G" - a death squad created to murder Hitler's enemies. Given reports like these and the mockery Hitler faced in the media, it wasn't surprising that one of the Nazi's first priorities upon gaining power was to outlaw free press and free speech.
The pivotal moment came on February 27, 1933, just weeks after Hitler had been sworn in as chancellor. A fire broke out in the Reichstag building, home of the German parliament, gutting much of the structure. Whether it was truly set by communist agitators as the Nazis claimed, or was a false flag operation by the Nazis themselves, the fire created the pretext for Hitler to consolidate power.
In the immediate aftermath, Hitler pressured President Hindenburg to sign an emergency decree suspending civil liberties. This was followed by the Reichstag passing the Enabling Act, which gave Hitler's cabinet the power to enact laws without parliamentary consent.
Some still believed these would only be temporary emergency measures. But in reality, these acts had turned Germany into a dictatorship almost overnight. Hitler was no longer merely the chancellor - he had become the Führer. And he now had the legal authority to silence all opposition and arrest anyone who spoke out against him or the Nazi party.
A flood of new laws and ideological directives soon followed, dramatically reshaping German society. The progressive attitudes of the Weimar era were quickly reversed. Joseph Goebbels, head of the new Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, declared that Germany's recent problems stemmed from women being granted too many freedoms. Women shouldn't be working, he argued - their most important duty was to bear children for the nation. Over 19,000 women were summarily fired from public sector jobs.
For Mildred and Arvid, it was becoming clear that the Germany they had come to love was slipping away. But rather than flee, they made the fateful decision to stay and resist however they could.
Spy Club: The Beginnings of Resistance
After losing her position at the University of Berlin, Mildred soon found work teaching English at the Berlin Night School for Adults (known as the BAG). In many ways, it was an ideal fit. Both she and Arvid were committed to helping the working class, and the BAG catered to exactly that demographic. Many students were unemployed, some were Jewish, and quite a few were unhappy about Germany's political shift.
The school itself was pioneering in its approach. Previously, the only schools available to working adults had been vocational programs. The BAG aimed to broaden horizons by teaching subjects like history, philosophy, literature, and science - potentially opening up new opportunities for students to escape poverty.
At the BAG, Mildred continued to speak openly about politics, much to the surprise of some students. Alongside discussions of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Charles Dickens, she would sing folk songs like "John Brown's Body" about the American abolitionist. And she wasn't afraid to draw connections to current events, asking pointed questions like "Do you believe Hitler should be chancellor?"
Early in her time at the BAG, Mildred started an extracurricular English club that met regularly. She invited provocative guests from her social circle, like George Messersmith from the American Consulate. This opened the door for further political discussions. While we don't know exactly what was said at these meetings, we do know that in private communications with colleagues, Messersmith described the Nazi government as being "of a mentality that you and I cannot understand. Some of them are psychopathic cases and would ordinarily be receiving treatment somewhere."
Initially, the club met in Mildred and Arvid's apartment. But by early 1933, this was deemed too risky. The walls were thin, and rumors were circulating about neighbors informing on each other for perceived acts of treason - which now included seemingly innocuous activities like listening to foreign radio broadcasts.
The secret police (Gestapo) and Hitler's SS paramilitary unit were operating with impunity, breaking down doors and hauling people off for interrogation. The threat of indefinite imprisonment, torture, or death was very real for anyone suspected of opposing the regime.
The Harnacks took these threats seriously, but it didn't stop them from pushing back. Before long, Mildred was using her English club as a recruiting ground for what became known as "the Circle" - one of the first organized resistance groups in Berlin.
The Circle started small, producing leaflets and flyers to counter Nazi propaganda. They would slip these materials between newspapers or leave stacks in factories and warehouses where workers might find them. It was the beginning of a German resistance movement that was very much in its infancy in 1933, but would grow more complex and even international in the years ahead.
Fighting a Dangerous Fight
As 1933 progressed, the dangers of opposing the Nazi regime became increasingly clear. That year alone, the government rounded up 20,000 political prisoners. Like many others, Mildred and Arvid grappled with the question of whether to stay in Germany or flee while they still could. With Arvid's ties to Moscow through his work with ARPLAN, he could easily have been branded a communist sympathizer and imprisoned.
Despite the risks, they made the courageous decision to stay and fight for as long as possible. They saw themselves as being at the center of the Circle, organizing leaflet campaigns to try and inspire people to rise up against Nazi rule.
Meanwhile, new and increasingly oppressive laws kept being passed. The Nuremberg Laws of September 1935 stripped Jewish people of their citizenship and basic civil rights. Suddenly, it was illegal for Jews to marry or have sexual relations with non-Jews. This growing marginalization and segregation was laying the groundwork for the Nazis' ultimate plan of extermination.
That same year, the prototype concentration camp was established at Dachau. While the government claimed it was only for temporary detention of political prisoners, it was the start of a vast network of camps. By the end of the war, infamous names like Buchenwald, Mauthausen, and Auschwitz would be etched in history.
For many Jewish families, the writing was on the wall and the decision was clear: leave Germany while it was still possible. For the Harnacks, this created a moral imperative to help Jews escape however they could. They leveraged their connections as best they could.
Arvid's family name still carried weight, and he was able to secure a position at the Ministry of Economics. This gave him access to the Deutscher Club, a social club for high-ranking Nazis. There, he could potentially meet others in the upper echelons of government who might be interested in undermining Hitler's plans.
Mildred, meanwhile, had connections at the US embassy and the American Women's Club frequented by diplomats' wives. Their social circle included some of Berlin's most influential figures. This allowed Mildred to obtain visas and help people like Jewish editor Max Tau find safe haven in Norway.
But as the Circle's efforts expanded, so too did the scrutiny from authorities. In 1934 alone, the Gestapo confiscated over a million of their leaflets. By that time, other resistance groups had also emerged in Berlin. There was the Gegner Kreis led by Harro Schulze-Boysen, a young officer in the Aviation Ministry. Adam Kuckhoff, a former magazine editor, led the Tat Kreis. And neurologist John Rittmeister headed up the Rittmeister Kreis.
These various groups occasionally interconnected with Mildred and Arvid's Circle, forming a loose network of resistance across the city. But the dangers were ever-present. In 1936, over 12,000 people were arrested for distributing opposition materials. Two of them were individuals Mildred had recruited through her BAG classes.
With people like Arvid and Schulze-Boysen involved, the leaflets became more detailed and damaging to the regime. From his position in the Aviation Ministry, Schulze-Boysen was able to provide specifics about troops, weapons, and supplies Hitler was sending to support Spanish dictator Francisco Franco.
But keeping these dangerous secrets was taking its toll on Mildred and Arvid. It was well known that every building in Berlin had its own Gestapo informant, and their identity wasn't always a mystery. At one point, the Harnacks lived in a building owned by Hela Strehl, a mistress of propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. No matter where they lived, there was good reason to believe their home was bugged. Mysterious "workers" would often show up claiming they needed to fix something or update wiring - likely installing surveillance equipment instead.
Both Mildred and Arvid had to spend their days posing as Nazi supporters. For Arvid, it went beyond just posing - he made the difficult decision to officially register as a Nazi party member to keep his job and maintain access to influential people at the Deutscher Club. Mildred often feigned support for Hitler as a way to gauge people's true feelings and potentially recruit them into the resistance. She might say something positive about the Führer to see how someone reacted, hoping for a disgusted response that revealed anti-Nazi sentiment.
The strain of leading this double life was evident when Mildred briefly returned to the US in 1937 to visit family. Even an ocean away from Berlin, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched or tested for loyalty. She remained cold and tight-lipped about the situation in Germany. When she gave an old friend a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, the friend turned to her husband and remarked, "I have the feeling I've just been kissed by a Nazi." The Mildred they had known was gone, replaced by someone hardened by years of resistance work in Nazi Germany.
Messages Not Received
As the 1930s wore on, Hitler's claims of wanting "peace" rang increasingly hollow. He repeatedly defied the restrictions placed on Germany after World War I, rebuilding the country's military might in clear violation of international agreements. From their positions in the economics and aviation ministries, both Arvid and Harro Schulze-Boysen could see that the Führer was clearly gearing up for large-scale war.
The Soviet Union grew increasingly concerned about Hitler's intentions and sought reliable intelligence from inside Germany. Alexander Hirschfeld, an old friend of Arvid's from his ARPLAN days who now worked for Soviet intelligence, came to Berlin to try and recruit Arvid as an agent. While Arvid refused to be officially controlled by Moscow or accept payment, he did agree to provide information.
After Germany invaded Poland and France in 1939, Moscow made similar arrangements with other members of the Berlin resistance groups, including Schulze-Boysen. By 1941, the intelligence coming from these German sources was unequivocal - an invasion of the Soviet Union was imminent.
Yet Soviet leader Joseph Stalin refused to believe these warnings, for two main reasons. First, Hitler and Stalin had signed a non-aggression pact at the start of the war. Germany was sending tanks to the Soviets in exchange for gasoline. To Stalin, the idea that Hitler would be simultaneously plotting an invasion seemed absurd.
The second issue stemmed from Stalin's own paranoia. Between 1936 and 1938, he had ordered mass purges that saw around a thousand people executed each day. Many senior intelligence officials were among the victims. Ironically, while Stalin was intensely distrustful of those closest to him, he placed dangerous faith in his pact with Hitler.
The fact that Soviet intelligence was now being run by less experienced minds would have fateful consequences for the German resistance. On August 26, 1941, the young new director of Soviet foreign intelligence, Pavel Fitin, sent an encrypted message instructing an agent to visit three addresses in Berlin and ensure that radio equipment was operational.
It was a catastrophic intelligence blunder. Fitin's message listed the full names and addresses of Harro Schulze-Boysen, Adam Kuckhoff, and Arvid Harnack. The Nazis immediately intercepted the transmission. And while it was encrypted, their code-breakers were hard at work trying to decipher it. The clock was now ticking for the Berlin resistance.
No Escape
As the war escalated, the German resistance intensified its efforts. Anti-Nazi leaflets urged arms factory workers to sabotage ammunition and bombs. Some groups targeted railroads with explosives. As early as 1938, high-ranking members of the German and Austrian military were plotting ways to assassinate Hitler, culminating in the failed Operation Valkyrie bombing attempt.
The Nazi regime responded with brutal efficiency. So many executions were carried out that beheadings were reintroduced as a more "efficient" method than hanging. At one Berlin prison in 1935, over 80 people were beheaded. Eventually, a steel guillotine was brought in to make the process even quicker and cleaner.
This was the grim fate that loomed over members of the resistance. And on July 14, 1942, that threat became all too real when Nazi code-breakers finally cracked Fitin's intercepted message. The names and addresses of three key resistance leaders were now in the hands of the Gestapo.
It's unclear whether Mildred and Arvid knew the net was closing in, but they did attempt to flee Germany that summer. They made it as far as Lithuania, planning to take a boat to neutral Sweden. But before they could board, they were captured at a house by the Baltic Sea and dragged back to Berlin.
At Gestapo headquarters, Mildred and Arvid were separated and thrown into cells. Mildred found herself surrounded by other captured resistance members - Harro Schulze-Boysen and his wife Libertas, Adam Kuckhoff, John Rittmeister, and even two of her own recruits from the BAG. The interconnected circles of the Berlin resistance had been rounded up together.
Over the following days, the Gestapo subjected them to brutal interrogations and torture, trying to extract confessions and the names of other conspirators. Some broke under the pressure, while others like Mildred never admitted to anything. One person didn't need to be tortured at all - Libertas Schulze-Boysen freely revealed name after name.
The involvement of the Schulze-Boysens came as a particular shock to Hermann Göring, one of Hitler's top ministers. Libertas was an aristocrat whose grandfather had been a prince. Göring had attended her wedding to Harro. He had entrusted Schulze-Boysen with sensitive military plans and blueprints. Their betrayal was a humiliation for the Nazi leadership.
A Letter from Arvid
After arresting 76 people connected to the resistance network, the Gestapo branded them the "Red Orchestra" - even though the various groups had never been that organized or centrally controlled. On December 15, 1942, Mildred and Arvid Harnack's trial began. It lasted just four days and was the first time they had seen each other in months. It would also be the last.
While they weren't allowed to speak directly, Arvid managed to have a letter passed to Mildred containing his final words to her. The trial itself was largely a formality - Hitler had the ultimate say in sentencing. In a macabre twist, Hitler believed women should be beheaded rather than hanged, so many female resistance members met their end at the guillotine.
Nearly everyone arrested in connection with the Berlin resistance groups received a death sentence. On December 22, 1942, Arvid, Harro Schulze-Boysen, and eight others were executed by hanging.
Mildred was initially given a six-year prison sentence. But Hitler found this far too lenient and demanded a retrial. This time, one of Mildred's former BAG students testified that she had coerced him into being a spy. Based on this, Mildred was sentenced to death by beheading.
On February 16, 1943, Mildred awaited her execution. She gave Arvid's letter to her cellmate, Gertrud Klapputh, hoping she might be able to pass it on to family someday. The prison chaplain had managed to smuggle in a book so Mildred could spend her final moments doing what she loved most - reading. In the margins, she translated a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
"In all the frequent troubles of our days A God gave compensation - more his praise In looking sky- and heavenward as duty In sunshine and in virtue and in beauty."
After Mildred's execution, Gertrud was sent to Ravensbrück, the concentration camp for women. There, prisoners endured brutal forced labor and horrific medical experiments. Because Gertrud knew shorthand and typing, she was assigned to work as a secretary for an SS officer at the camp.
Gertrud was still at Ravensbrück on April 30, 1945 - the day Hitler committed suicide and Soviet forces discovered the camp. In the chaos, she found herself wandering the bombed-out streets of Berlin, carrying only the clothes on her back and the precious letter Arvid had written to Mildred.
It wasn't until 1952 that Gertrud, now married with three children, felt strong enough to write to Clara Harnack, Arvid's mother. She explained how she had met Mildred in prison and enclosed the letter she'd safeguarded all those years.
Arvid's letter is just five paragraphs long. In it, he recounts the "wonderful moments of our marriage" - memories he had cherished during his final months. It ends with the poignant words: "You are in my heart. You shall be forever. My greatest wish is that you are happy when you think of me. I am when I think of you."
Final Thoughts
The story of Mildred and Arvid Harnack and the Berlin resistance network sheds light on a little-known chapter of World War II history. While much has been written about anti-Nazi resistance groups in occupied countries across Europe, far less attention has been paid to those who fought back against Hitler from within Germany itself.
These brave individuals faced nearly impossible odds. They received little acknowledgment or support from Allied governments during the war. Their warnings about Hitler's true intentions often went unheeded. And they had to rely almost entirely on the limited resources they could cobble together among their small, unaffiliated groups.
Yet despite the overwhelming dangers and long odds of success, Mildred Harnack devoted herself for over a decade to resisting the fascist dictatorship that had taken hold of her adopted homeland. She and her fellow resisters distributed anti-Nazi materials, helped Jews escape, passed intelligence to the Allies, and kept hope alive during Germany's darkest hour.
Their courage came at the ultimate price. Mildred, Arvid, and many of their comrades were mercilessly executed by the Nazi regime. But their legacy lives on as a testament to the power of individual moral conviction in the face of systemic evil. They prove that even in humanity's darkest moments, there are always those willing to stand up for what is right.
Mildred Harnack's story also offers a window into the difficult choices faced by ordinary Germans under Nazi rule. While some made excuses or remained apathetic, others like Mildred and Arvid decided they could not stand idly by. Their resistance efforts may not have toppled Hitler's regime, but they preserved a flicker of humanity and hope amid the darkness of the Third Reich.
As we continue to grapple with authoritarianism and injustice in the modern world, the example set by Mildred Harnack and her fellow resisters remains deeply relevant. They remind us that the responsibility to oppose tyranny ultimately falls to each of us as individuals. Even when the personal cost is high, there is profound meaning and moral victory in refusing to be complicit with evil.
The tale of the Berlin resistance also highlights the often-overlooked role that women played in opposing Nazism. Figures like Mildred Harnack and Libertas Schulze-Boysen were not merely supporters of male-led efforts, but key leaders and organizers in their own right. Their courage and sacrifice deserve to be remembered alongside other heroes of the anti-Nazi resistance.
Ultimately, "All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days" is a story of hope amid horror, of light penetrating darkness. It reminds us that even in the bleakest circumstances, acts of conscience and moral courage are always possible. Though Mildred Harnack and many of her comrades did not live to see Hitler's downfall, their resistance helped keep the flame of human dignity alive until liberation finally came.
Their example continues to inspire and challenge us today. In a world still plagued by authoritarianism, bigotry, and injustice, we are called to follow in their footsteps - to stand up for what is right, to aid the persecuted, to speak truth to power. The spirit of resistance that animated Mildred Harnack lives on in all who refuse to be silent in the face of evil.