Vi wrote this journal entry, which I've translated into English, on the fourth day of the trial, documenting the trip from the Schwäbisch Gmünd prison to the courthouse at Stammheim prison and back. The references to “good behavior” in interactions with officials refers to the hearing two days prior, when the Ulm5 staged a protest against the lack of a fair trial by refusing to walk into the courtroom, instead having to be carried in by guards, or in Vi's case, rolled in on an office chair. –Josie
Chronicle #1, 22 May 2026 approx. 7:20 a.m.
Good morning from the bunker, with white wall tiles, black floor tiles, turquoise and petrol-blue tables and chairs fixed in place, a metal toilet with a built-in sink and a window facing the defense’s booth. At 5:00 a.m., I was woken by the alarm through the prison's “emergency intercom”, although as always on trial days, I was already awake, around 4:00 a.m. It’s as if my body is waiting to be woken up. “Dam-Dü-Dam” (sound of the emergency intercom) – GOOD MORNING!
→ I jump up and climb out of bed. My cellmate was 100% ripped away from her sleep, too. I hop the 2 meters to the door, where the intercom is located. It’s humming, waiting for me to press the red, smooth button with a small glowing dot to confirm I’m awake. Sometimes the night shift guards get impatient and ask again. I press the “button”, well, you don’t actually have to press it, just touch it; it’s smooth and firm, one of those buttons you can’t actually press. GOOD MORNING. It keeps beeping. I think there’s a glitch in the system. I go to the “bathroom”. The system is still beeping, making that “Dam-Dü-Dam” sound again; no one is speaking. Finally, it turns off. Does ANYTHING actually work in this prison, aside from handing out punishments?
I brush my teeth, wash my face, boil water in the see-through electric kettle, put a paper filter in my plastic coffee maker. I turn on the TV, on mute. 5:12 a.m. Another 18 minutes until I’m called to the chamber. I do my hair, wondering if I look really tired. I dissolve a zinc tablet in water. I take the used coffee filter to the “bathroom”, hopefully nothing will drip out, with one hand underneath. Which isn’t the best idea – on Wednesday, I was so tired I forgot to check if all the hot water had run through, and I burned my hand, which startled me, causing coffee to splatter on half the cell. Today, though, the water had run through 100%, so no burns. No coffee all over the cell. I change clothes – from my sleeping sweatpants into my everyday sweatpants. I slip on my slippers, as always, the ones I bought at MASSAK, dark green, you can’t choose the color. It says “viva” in white letters, every time I read that, I think, “viva Palestina.” 5:30, footsteps, keys. The door opens; I hate the sound of the heavy keys clicking into place and the loud creak when the cell doors are opened. GOOD MORNING. Three female officers from the night shift. I grab the blue censored envelope from my cell to toss it into the mailbox in the hallway of our dorm before it’s emptied. I can still quick slip that in there, right? – Yeah, haha, you’re gone all day anyway, haha. HAHA. What’s so funny about that? I walk with the three officers to the end of the hallway after using the mailbox. At the end of the 41-meter-long, 80-step-wide hallway, the glass door opens, a few steps down to the right leads to the chamber located between WB1 and WB2, at ground floor level. Then the fun begins. Clerk 1: So, what was that all about? Couldn’t you walk? What was with the office chair, wheelchair? Me: Well, I’m insisting on my rights.
Back-and-forth banter. Whether I’m going to “behave” today. I just snort. In the chamber, only one official – one of the 3 – lays out my court outfit. I ask how they found out about the hearing –from word of mouth or the news. We’re all over the news, this officer says. “Embarrassing?” she asks me. I don’t know what she means by that. I wonder what the dpa wrote. No, nothing is embarrassing to me. How can insisting on your rights, on resisting, on humanity, life and common sense be embarrassing?
A towel is laid out on the floor for me. Routine. I slip out of my “Viva” (without Palestine) slippers, step onto the towel, and strip completely naked. “Jewelry?” – “Yes, 1x nipple, 2x ears.” It’s so fucking weird and uncomfortable to stand there naked in front of three female officers. Every time, it reminds me of those 48 hours at the Ulm police station, where I was completely naked under a plastic sheet in the holding cell, and one of the policewomen kept trying to get me to take out my nipple piercing. I’ve never taken it out.
After my body piercings have been registered, I put on clothes for the trial, finally NORMAL underwear, not those prison outfits. The warm, cozy, gray hoodie, when I put it on, I imagine my mom picking it out for me, and I think of all the effort, care, love that my mom, my friends, comrades, lovers and family (biological + chosen) out there have for me. Once I’m dressed, after the contents of the clear plastic bag we inmates get have been checked, I’m led into a cell in the wing. After asking, I find out I’ll be picked up in 20 minutes. Might as well smoke another one. Morning sunlight streams through the barred windows, names, messages, dates and defiant slogans are scrawled on the walls. I do lunges, tricep dips and push-ups, holding on to the seat. After a while, one of the two officers escorting me arrives, supposedly “only” 2 instead of 3 starting today, I guess I’m not such a big threat anymore. Handcuffs. I walk to the end of the chamber, the door opens, straight into the prisoner transport van, I step inside. I turn my back to the officer so he can put the leg shackles on me, knowing that my butt is at the level of his face. It’s something that bothers me and my cellmate, and we find it quite uncomfortable – we talked about it briefly last night before falling asleep. After the shackles are secured, I’m asked if I can buckle my seatbelt. No, not really. It’s a bit tricky with these handcuffs. I fasten my seatbelt, as always, from the left, the officer gets in and pulls the belt through the buckle. He and another officer get in the front; the heater/ventilation kicks on, it’s pretty loud. We drive off. Gate. “Kovarbasic”. Gate. Road. Cars. Speed. Tunnel. Road. Weleda building. Aldi. I close my eyes. I’m a little more awake today than I was on Wednesday. I open my eyes. Forest, to the left and right of the highway. Forest! I never miss the sight of the forest, no matter how tired I am. — In the bunker, a comrade arrived, I hear the singing, as always, coming through the ventilation shafts. I sing along. Olive trees. Just like in Ulm, in the bunker, back then. The song – the joint singing through the vents – has become my home, my power potion, my emotional regulation, my expression of... LOL, the guy officer is trying to open the bunker door. The woman officer – okay, she did it. Now to the other bunker, then back again. More singing. More writing. 8:20 a.m. I have a newspaper; I finally got Freitag again yesterday. Five issues, from April through May. Did the security officer read them all before I was allowed to have them? — 15-minute adjournment. Bunker. What I forgot: The woman officer here in Stammheim asked me if I/we would be able to walk on our own today. Whether our “legs still work.” Her muscles are sore from Wednesday. — Talk of the oh-so-dangerous “writing utensils”. Were attendees searched down to their underwear?
7:58 p.m. Back in Schwäbisch Gmünd ☹ The “workday” is over. Back “home”. Told my cellmate about today and ate (a lot – I couldn’t eat a thing during the hearing). What a shit show. Everyone in the audience gives me strength, as do the other 4. Thanks to everyone who was there today, and last time, and next time. And before that, after that, or those who are there in spirit, in our shared resistance against inhumanity. Next time, maybe we’ll REALLY get to hear the statements.
I actually wanted to keep track of how many times they put the handcuffs on and take them off, how many times we were taken up and down. Now, 6 days of nothing. Everyday prison life. Ugh. To be honest, I actually feel more like a human being in court than I do here, and even in court I feel like a strange object being put on display. Sat-Mon: weekend/holiday. That’s going to be exhausting. Weekends and holidays somehow drag on even longer. Then Friday’s hearing, followed by 16 days of NOTHING, I have to prepare myself for that, emotionally, haha. After the hearing, I always want to take a shower, I’m so sweaty, but I can’t until tomorrow at 11. Saw people on the way back coming out of Aldi with ice cream. Now I’m wiped out. Oh yeah, when I get back, it’s the exact same scenario in the cell – having to strip completely naked, etc. Some officers ask, “So, how was it?” But not really. My cellmate just pointed out that actually, no officer ever asks nicely anymore if everything’s ok, if it went ok. Well, what can you expect. Whenever I come back from a hearing, I don’t want anything to do with prison, I’d rather just let this daily routine and forced community living pass me by. But after two days, I’m back in this chaos, this drama, and the injustice that reigns here. The 88-year-old woman was finally released. It’s going to get hot these next few days – that’s not so great. Will you enjoy the warm weather? Please enjoy it a little for me too, okay? Back to TV now. We’ve been amused to realize that we’re slowly becoming experts on Sturm der Liebe –a super German, badly produced series with 4,550 episodes set in Bavaria. Horrible. But, yeah, we’re forced to watch it every day from 3:15–4:00 – there’s nothing else on. We watch it, sarcastically.
Today’s hearing was yet another total disaster. Welcome to the “state of law”. I don’t think anything shocks me anymore, neither in court nor in prison.
Ok, this is a long letter. I’ll stop here. Attached is a drawing I made while sitting in the “terrarium,” like lizards on display in a public place, or those fish in aquariums at restaurants.
Love you! – VI ♥ ♥
P.S.: Every time I write the return address on an envelope, I wonder how much longer I'll have to use it. EVERY TIME!