Olivia: Most of us think of WWII resistance as soldiers and spies in trenches. But what if one of the most effective anti-Hitler spy rings in Berlin was led by an American literature professor from Wisconsin? And what if her story was almost completely erased from history? Jackson: A literature professor? Seriously? That sounds more like a quiet life of grading papers, not espionage in the Third Reich. I'm picturing tweed jackets and dusty libraries, not dead drops and secret codes. Olivia: Well, get ready to have that image completely shattered. It’s the incredible true story told in All the Frequent Troubles of Our Days by Rebecca Donner. Jackson: Okay, you have my full attention. Olivia: And this isn't just any historical account. Donner is Mildred Harnack's great-great-niece, and she uncovered this story from forgotten family archives and newly declassified intelligence files. The book went on to win the National Book Critics Circle Award, pulling a forgotten hero back into the light. Jackson: Wow, so it's a personal mission for the author. That adds a whole other layer to it. Where do we even begin with a story like that? Olivia: We begin in 1930s Berlin. A city that was, for a moment, the most vibrant, free, and intellectually exciting place in the world. And right in the middle of it is Mildred, a young American woman, deeply in love with the city and her German husband, Arvid. She's there to teach, to write, to live a life of the mind.

Jackson: That sounds idyllic. So she's an intellectual, not a trained spy. What was the turning point? When does she go from discussing Faulkner in a university seminar to actively fighting the Nazis? Olivia: It’s a gradual, horrifying slide. First, the university, which was once a bastion of free thought, starts to turn on her. She's teaching American authors who write about poverty and social injustice, and she's not shy about drawing parallels to the rising Nazi party. In 1932, her contract isn't renewed. Her students are devastated; on her last day, they cover her desk in flowers as a silent protest. Jackson: That's a powerful image. A quiet act of defiance. But that’s still a long way from running a spy ring. Olivia: It is. But then the world around her starts to unravel with terrifying speed. In February 1933, the Reichstag—the German parliament building—burns. Hitler immediately blames the Communists, creating a crisis he can exploit. He pressures President Hindenburg to sign an emergency decree that suspends all civil liberties. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, privacy—gone, overnight. Jackson: Just like that. He used one event to dismantle democracy. Olivia: Exactly. And then comes the event that must have been a dagger to Mildred's heart: the book burnings. On May 10, 1933, across Germany, Nazi students build massive bonfires and torch tens of thousands of books they deem "un-German." We're talking about works by Helen Keller, Ernest Hemingway, Thomas Mann, Albert Einstein. All the authors she loves and teaches. Jackson: Wow. So it wasn't one moment, but a series of horrors. She's watching her world, the world of ideas, literally go up in flames. That's a powerful motivation. Olivia: It's a declaration of war on the mind. And it's followed by even more brutal physical violence. In 1934, Hitler carries out the "Night of the Long Knives," a bloody purge where he has hundreds of his political rivals and perceived enemies murdered in a single weekend. The book tells the chilling story of Willi Schmid, a music critic who was killed by mistake. The SS just got the wrong address. They later delivered his casket to his wife with a note of apology. Jackson: That's just... insane. The randomness of the cruelty is what's so terrifying. Olivia: Absolutely. And after witnessing all this, Mildred and Arvid realize they can't just stand by. They can't just be quiet intellectuals anymore. So they start what she nicknames "The Circle." It begins not as a spy ring, but as a secret discussion group of anti-fascists meeting in their tiny Berlin apartment. This is where the unlikely spy is born.

Jackson: Okay, so The Circle is formed. But how do you go from a book club with a political edge to an effective resistance cell? Resisting a state where your neighbors, your mailman, even your own family could be informants requires a whole different level of skill. Olivia: You're right, and that leads us to the 'how.' Because you can't just print anti-Hitler flyers and hand them out on the street corner. You’d be arrested in minutes. Their methods had to be incredibly creative and incredibly brave. Jackson: So what did they do? What was their tradecraft? Olivia: For one, they weaponized mundane things. They produced underground pamphlets, but to get them past censors, they gave them the most boring titles imaginable. One was called The Proper Care of Cactus Plants. Another, which contained a scathing critique of the regime, was titled Home Heating by Electricity. Jackson: That's brilliant! It's like a Trojan horse for information. You'd see that on a shelf and never think twice. Olivia: Precisely. They also had to recruit, which was the most dangerous part of the job. They brought in factory workers, lawyers, writers, even disillusioned former Nazis. But how do you trust anyone? Their solution was a high-risk psychological game. Jackson: What kind of game? Olivia: A member of The Circle would approach a potential recruit and pretend to be a Nazi sympathizer. They’d say something like, "Isn't it wonderful what the Führer is doing for Germany?" and then carefully watch the person's reaction. If they agreed enthusiastically, you knew to walk away. If they looked uncomfortable, or argued, you might have found a new member. Jackson: That takes so much nerve. One wrong read and you're in a Gestapo prison. Did it ever go wrong? Olivia: Oh, spectacularly. The book recounts Mildred's attempt to recruit the famous British writer Rebecca West while on a trip to London. Mildred tried the technique, saying something about how Hitler must adore West's books. West, a fierce anti-fascist, was so disgusted she literally threw Mildred out of her house. She had no idea she was talking to a resistance leader. Jackson: That's incredible. It's almost comical if it weren't so deadly serious. And they used children too, right? I saw a mention of a young courier. Olivia: Yes, and this is one of the most astonishing parts of the story. They recruited an eleven-year-old American boy named Don Heath, the son of a diplomat at the U.S. Embassy. His father was secretly gathering intelligence, and Don became the perfect courier. He was just an adorable American kid with a blue knapsack. No one would suspect he was carrying secret messages between his father and Mildred, disguised as tutoring sessions. Jackson: An eleven-year-old courier. That's both brilliant and heartbreaking. The weight of that responsibility on a child is immense. It really shows the desperate measures they had to take.

Olivia: It does. And as the 1930s wore on and war became inevitable, their work got even more complicated and dangerous. Passing out leaflets wasn't enough. They needed to get real, actionable intelligence to the Allies. And that meant making some very difficult choices about who to trust. Jackson: This is where the Soviet connection comes in, right? I know that's a controversial part of their story. Why them? It seems like trading one monster for another. Olivia: It's a question they wrestled with. The book portrays it as a pragmatic, if deeply fraught, decision. In the late 1930s, the US and Britain were still pursuing policies of appeasement. They weren't actively seeking intelligence to overthrow Hitler. The Soviets, on the other hand, saw Hitler as a direct threat and were desperate for inside information on his war plans. For The Circle, it was a case of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Jackson: A dangerous alliance. It puts them in a morally gray area. Olivia: A very gray area. And it highlights the messy reality of resistance. It's not always a clean fight between good and evil. Sometimes, to fight a monster, you have to dance with another one. And this complex world is perfectly illustrated by a character who enters Mildred's life: Martha Dodd. Jackson: The American ambassador's daughter. What was her story? Olivia: Martha was the complete opposite of Mildred. Where Mildred was principled, cautious, and driven by a deep moral core, Martha was a thrill-seeker. She was drawn to the danger and glamour of Nazi Berlin. And this fascination led her into an affair with a man named Rudolf Diels. Jackson: Wait, I feel like I should know that name. Olivia: You should. He was the founder and first chief of the Gestapo. Jackson: Hold on. The American ambassador's daughter was having an affair with the head of the Gestapo? While Mildred is risking her life to fight them? That is an unbelievable contrast. Olivia: It's almost Shakespearean, isn't it? It shows the bizarre, high-stakes world of Berlin at the time. Martha was sleeping with the man who was hunting people like Mildred. The book explains that Martha kept the affair a secret from Mildred, knowing it would destroy their friendship. It just throws into sharp relief how unique and profound Mildred's principled courage really was. She was surrounded by complicity, naivete, and moral compromise, and yet she never wavered.

Jackson: So when you put it all together, you have this American academic who builds a resistance network from her living room, uses child couriers and fake cactus manuals, and makes a deal with the Soviets, all while navigating this treacherous social world. It’s an astonishing story. Olivia: It truly is. And the book's core message, I think, is that resistance isn't a Hollywood movie. It's messy, it's morally complex, and it's often carried out by ordinary people who are pushed by their conscience to do extraordinary things. Jackson: And the price she paid was the ultimate one. Olivia: The ultimate one. The Gestapo eventually caught up with them. Mildred was arrested, brutally tortured, and sentenced to six years in a labor camp. But Hitler wasn't satisfied. He personally intervened, overruled the verdict, and ordered her execution. On February 16, 1943, Mildred Harnack was beheaded by guillotine. The only American woman in the leadership of the German resistance, executed on Hitler's direct order. Jackson: That's horrifying. And for decades, her story was just... gone. Olivia: Buried. In the Cold War climate, her Soviet connections made her a political liability. Her story didn't fit the neat narratives we wanted to tell about the war. She was a traitor to the Nazi state, but her legacy was complicated in the West, too. Jackson: It makes you think about what it means to be a traitor versus a patriot. She was a traitor to a criminal regime, but a patriot to the ideals of humanity and freedom. Olivia: That's a perfect way to put it. The book forces us to ask: in the face of rising tyranny, where do our loyalties truly lie? To the state, or to our conscience? It’s a question that feels as relevant today as it was in 1930s Berlin. Jackson: A powerful thought to end on. This story is going to stick with me for a long time. We'd love to hear what you all think. Does this change how you see wartime resistance? Join the conversation on our social channels. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.