Is that a true story or did you create it to make a point? 
Originally posted by iannima
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I think we also need to remember that in a socialist command economy production is done for the sake of meeting the targets set out in the plan. The actual demand or need for the product itself is not a consideration that plays any role in the mind of the factory producing the stuff. And because bottlenecks are an endemic feature of such a vertically integrated economy, short cuts will be found in order to meet the letter of the target, even though the final product as a result will not meet the needs of its ultimate users. So for entertainment value, I shall tell you a story 
...
In the torrid summer of 1983, the chief manager of Factory N. 1850 Uniformbekleidung was sweating profusely in a heated meeting of his chief engineers and heads of production lines. They all seemed much more interested in blaming each other than actually solving the problem at hand. The engineers blamed the production line managers for having failed to keep the specified maintenance routine of the machines. The production line managers blamed the engineers for their inability to repair the machines... They also blamed the unprecedented temperatures for having caused overheating of the machines. The argument went on without purpose or direction...to the despair of the chief manager.
The fact of the matter was that the embroidering machine had broken down. Parts that would put it back into action were not available. Frantic phone calls to the machine factory had ended up in nothing: spares were not currently available as their production was only scheduled for the third quarter of the following year.
The situation was pretty desperate: the machine was needed to embroider the cuff titles for hundreds of thousands of tunics for the three Wachregiment which the plan specified had to be ready by the end of the year. And stitching the cuff title onto the sleeve was technically one of the first operations involved. Stitching it on at the end of the process was far too laborious: it basically involved doing it by hand. Too long by any standard. Granted, a substantial pile of cuff titles was around, as the chief manager had been at this job for far too long not to have predicted such a problem, but even his foresight was not enough to solve the problem: an optimistic estimate indicated that the pre-produced cuff titles would only manage to cover 60% of the planned production.
The mind of the chief manager wandered off from the stupidly acrimonious debate before his eyes... they did not care after all. What was it for them if the production targets were not met? Nothing obviously. He alone was responsible and he knew that all his subordinates were all just conspiring towards a delay of the production so that they could have an easier life. Yes, an easier life for them at the price of a more difficult one for himself... he thought bitterly.
In the darkness of these thoughts, a light shone through: he had recently spoken at an SED sponsored dinner with an Oberstleutenant at the Ministry of Defence who was high up in the Bekleidung und Aürustung department. He seemed amenable to reason... Perhaps a phone call to him might solve the issue... He quickly came back to his bickering subordinates and shouted loud enough to gain their attention. This might warrant another entry in his Stasi file but who cared any way? He quickly told all of them off for just wasting time and ordered production to go ahead with existing available cuff titles and that if the machines had not been repaired by the time these had run out, that production be continued without cuff titles.
"In my time in the army, we had a lot of stitching to do. The soldiers will just have to sew the cuff title themselves!" He shouted...
All his subordinates looked down at the table in front of them. If their chief manager was willing to stick his neck out, let him do it on his own. They all thought. The best strategy was to acquiesce and lay low.
And this they all did. They all muttered a half-hearted "Jawohl, Genosse" and they quickly filed out of the chief manager's office...
Left on his own, the chief manager did not waste any time and quickly looked for the telephone number of that Oberstleutenant. As he dialled he quickly thought that a promise would have to be made that delivery of the missing cuff titles at some stage in the near future. Something like that would have to be said. He quickly thought of something pleasant to start off the conversation: some funny story about the last SED meeting. But something was needed that would possibly and quickly lead to his reminiscing about his time in the army. And some story that bring to light how adaptability and practicality were essential characteristics of a good soldier... Something like that would do...
The phone was ringing... sharp lines crossed the forehead of the chief manager, but they all distended as a beaming smiles opened on his lips...
" Genosse Oberstleutenant Müller? How nice to find you!"
...In the torrid summer of 1983, the chief manager of Factory N. 1850 Uniformbekleidung was sweating profusely in a heated meeting of his chief engineers and heads of production lines. They all seemed much more interested in blaming each other than actually solving the problem at hand. The engineers blamed the production line managers for having failed to keep the specified maintenance routine of the machines. The production line managers blamed the engineers for their inability to repair the machines... They also blamed the unprecedented temperatures for having caused overheating of the machines. The argument went on without purpose or direction...to the despair of the chief manager.
The fact of the matter was that the embroidering machine had broken down. Parts that would put it back into action were not available. Frantic phone calls to the machine factory had ended up in nothing: spares were not currently available as their production was only scheduled for the third quarter of the following year.
The situation was pretty desperate: the machine was needed to embroider the cuff titles for hundreds of thousands of tunics for the three Wachregiment which the plan specified had to be ready by the end of the year. And stitching the cuff title onto the sleeve was technically one of the first operations involved. Stitching it on at the end of the process was far too laborious: it basically involved doing it by hand. Too long by any standard. Granted, a substantial pile of cuff titles was around, as the chief manager had been at this job for far too long not to have predicted such a problem, but even his foresight was not enough to solve the problem: an optimistic estimate indicated that the pre-produced cuff titles would only manage to cover 60% of the planned production.
The mind of the chief manager wandered off from the stupidly acrimonious debate before his eyes... they did not care after all. What was it for them if the production targets were not met? Nothing obviously. He alone was responsible and he knew that all his subordinates were all just conspiring towards a delay of the production so that they could have an easier life. Yes, an easier life for them at the price of a more difficult one for himself... he thought bitterly.
In the darkness of these thoughts, a light shone through: he had recently spoken at an SED sponsored dinner with an Oberstleutenant at the Ministry of Defence who was high up in the Bekleidung und Aürustung department. He seemed amenable to reason... Perhaps a phone call to him might solve the issue... He quickly came back to his bickering subordinates and shouted loud enough to gain their attention. This might warrant another entry in his Stasi file but who cared any way? He quickly told all of them off for just wasting time and ordered production to go ahead with existing available cuff titles and that if the machines had not been repaired by the time these had run out, that production be continued without cuff titles.
"In my time in the army, we had a lot of stitching to do. The soldiers will just have to sew the cuff title themselves!" He shouted...
All his subordinates looked down at the table in front of them. If their chief manager was willing to stick his neck out, let him do it on his own. They all thought. The best strategy was to acquiesce and lay low.
And this they all did. They all muttered a half-hearted "Jawohl, Genosse" and they quickly filed out of the chief manager's office...
Left on his own, the chief manager did not waste any time and quickly looked for the telephone number of that Oberstleutenant. As he dialled he quickly thought that a promise would have to be made that delivery of the missing cuff titles at some stage in the near future. Something like that would have to be said. He quickly thought of something pleasant to start off the conversation: some funny story about the last SED meeting. But something was needed that would possibly and quickly lead to his reminiscing about his time in the army. And some story that bring to light how adaptability and practicality were essential characteristics of a good soldier... Something like that would do...
The phone was ringing... sharp lines crossed the forehead of the chief manager, but they all distended as a beaming smiles opened on his lips...
" Genosse Oberstleutenant Müller? How nice to find you!"
as stated in my preface to it...
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