Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital
WHEN THE HOSPITAL BECOMES THE PATIENT
Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital has seen better days, days when it used to care, used to give a damn. Don’t bother expecting any treatment there now unless you’re plagued by an ailment that needs a roof falling on your head. I know plenty who are but they don’t know they’re ill.
The hospital wasn’t named after the relic sucking the blood out of British public finances, though she’s probably ancient enough, but Queen Elisabeth of Prussia, originally from Bavaria until she married her way out of Munich. A wise move.
Once it moved to the 130-bed facility at Oberschöneweide (Karlshorster Straße at the time, now Treskowallee), a department for internal medicine and surgery for adults was created and it was renamed the Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital (Queen Elisabeth Hospital) to reflect the new all-inclusive approach to patients.
An epidemic of scarlet fever in 1913 caused severe overcrowding and it was decided after that to reduce the hospital’s less busy kids’ department.
Then World War I broke out and a lot of its doctors and deaconesses were sent off to the fronts to look after patients at the source of their problems. A military hospital with 150 beds was set up alongside the civil hospital in Oberschöneweide to cope with patients returned back from the front.
If only they’d put the front at the back and met in the middle perhaps they could have avoided all the fighting. I suppose it’s too late to tell them now…
Things weren’t all that much better after the war, what with the depression and hyperinflation and all that. It was 1924 before the hospital could really get going again.
Just when things seemed to be looking up, however, Germany caught Naziitus. It seemed innocuous at first; the early symptoms, no one believed the warnings, none but a few could tell it would develop into something so devastating.
The Nazis took control in 1933 with implications überall. Chief internal department physician Dr. Walter Wolff had to leave the Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital in February 1936 due to being of “non-Aryan descent” and Prof. Dr. Richard Dobbertin, head of the surgical department, quit and went into retirement the same year.
Wolff was reinstated after the Second World War, in September 1945. I guess he was one of the lucky ones.
By then the Soviets had taken over. They used part of the hospital as a military hospital initially and it wasn’t so inclusive after that. It catered only to Russian soldiers from November 1945, when the rest of the patients were kicked out.
The Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital was effectively forced to move to another hospital in Lichtenberg, the Städtischen Krankenhauses Herzberge, which was renamed the Evangelisches Diakoniewerk Königin Elisabeth (EDKE) in 1980.
The Russians remained at the Oberschöneweide hospital a few years after Mauerfall, until 1994, by which time they’d realized that the confident new Germany wasn’t as welcoming to them as the former DDR had been.
The EDKE bought the site back from the state in the early 1990s and initially had plans to develop a mixture of housing, nursing homes and a discount supermarket. But these plans were shot down and it was decided to sell the site in separate parts. A school for people with disabilities was built, other buildings were torn down and a new building was built for an elderly care center.
The two buildings remaining are the last ones standing. Now they’re the ones in desperate need of care.
LOCATION AND ACCESS (HOW TO FIND GUIDE)
What: Königin-Elisabeth-Hospital, or the little that’s left of it (not much). Initially a kids’ hospital, increasingly catered for adults, in the end it catered only to Russian military types. Now it’s the one with a Kater. (I mean hangover, not a male cat, which wouldn’t make any sense at all. Or maybe it would.)
Where: Treskowallee 210-232, 12459 Berlin, Germany.
How to get there: Get up off your lazy ass and cycle, the best way to get anywhere in this city as long as your wheels don’t get caught in tram tracks, taxi drivers don’t run you off the road, the Polizei don’t hound you for breaking red lights, or someone doesn’t steal your bike. If your bike is stolen just make sure it’s stolen before any of the other stuff happens – otherwise you’d be really pissed off. If you’re not cycling – on reflection perhaps a wise decision – you can get the S-Bahn to Karlshorst and walk down Treskowallee from there. The train will be going east if you’re coming from Berlin, so make sure to turn south when you come out of the station. The hospital will be on the right, down near the busy junction with Rummelsburger Straße. Here’s a map to assist you.
Getting in: Go around to the side where you’ll see those huge water pipes that you get around Berlin. Apparently the site sits in a protected area for drinking water. You’ll need to duck under those and go to the part where the wall is broken. It’s incredibly easy.
When to go: Daytime might be safest. I don’t think it would be a good party location due to the proximity of the old folks’ home or whatever it is beside it – someone is bound to call the Polizei.
Difficulty rating: 1/10, nearly too easy. The building closest the road is hard to get into but I don’t think it’s worth the effort of trying to get in to be honest.
Who to bring: A like-minded explorer.
What to bring: Beer, wine, gold tequila, orange and cinnamon. Drink the beer and wine separately of course. Slice the orange, sprinkle cinnamon on it, and eat that before or after you take a slug of tequila. I can’t remember which. Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Take a camera if you want to take photos, a torch if you want to explore the basement.
Dangers: The usual – dodgy ceilings, nosy neighbors, Polizei. There’s no security.
Filed 7/6/2015