Read Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich Online
Authors: Horst Christian
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Dramas & Plays, #Regional & Cultural, #European, #German, #History, #Europe, #Germany, #Drama & Plays, #Continental European
Karl agreed, “Same here. I think when I am grown up I will have a bunch of pennies.”
Harold considered the answer, “Me too. You think that we will have enough to buy us some apples?”
“Yes, I guess we could buy some apples but not enough to buy us an orange. My dad says that oranges are very expensive because they come all the way from Spain and we have to pay something like import duty. Did you ever eat an orange?”
“No, never did,” Harold answered. “How about you?”
Karl nodded his head, “Yes, once, last Christmas.”
The boys had stopped their walk while they were talking and scanned the people in the grocery store. There were no bigger boys around to possibly chase after them.
“Wait,” said Harold, “what if the grocer does not return our salute. Do we report him to Herr Halama?”
“No,” answered Karl. “My mother said that I am not to report anyone.”
Harold was done observing the store customers. “Let’s do it. But shout as loud as you can and really click your heels.”
He opened the door to the store and the boys stood still for a moment because nobody paid them any attention.
“Heil Hitler!” roared both of the boys together. Their heels clicked like a whip and their arms were extended just as they had been instructed a short while ago.
“Get out!” yelled the grocer. He threw a rotten potato in their direction. The customers grumbled to each other and the boys clicked their heels once more as they turned on their left heel and left the store.
“This was not much fun,” said Harold on their way home. “I had hoped for a different reaction.”
“What did you expect?” Did you see the grocer’s wife? She nearly slipped and fell. Is that what you hoped for?”
Harold shook his head, “I really don’t know. But it was not much fun,” he repeated once more.
The boys did not know it at the time but two years later, by 1942, the Jungvolk introduced regular store patrols where they did exactly what Karl and Harold had done; except they reported any storeowner who did not answer their salute. Hitler’s doctrine worked slowly but it worked. People were afraid to get reported and so it came that everyone shouted Heil Hitler, Nazi’s and dissidents alike.
Four
During the following year a few things changed in the Veth family. Karl found himself with a baby sister, although he had no clue where she came from. His parents told him something about a big bird, a stork, which apparently had lost its way on a baby delivery route. Luckily for the stork his mother had been in the right place at the right time to catch the baby and now they had to take care of her.
Yeah, right. As much as Karl trusted his parents he had his doubts. Besides, he had never seen a big bird in the city.
A few days after the arrival of his sister he had conferred with Harold about this issue and the boys decided on a trip to the zoo.
“I don’t see any babies,” said Harold while the boys stood in front of the Stork exhibit.
“No,” agreed Karl. "I don’t believe the story anyway. But let’s make sure and look up some other big birds.”
On the way over to the other birds they ran into a woman wearing a zoo caretaker uniform. “Ask her,” suggested Harold, and Karl walked right up to her.
“Excuse me, dear lady, could you please direct us to the baby pond.” Karl was polite as usual.
“What baby pond?” she answered seemingly confused.
“The one where the storks get the babies for their delivery route,” Harold chimed in to help his friend.
“Oh that one,” the women smiled at the boys. “We don’t show ponds like that in our zoo. It is out in the country where the big baby lakes are located.” Karl smiled back at her and thanked her for the information.
“I don’t believe her either. This is a question for my grandpa,” he declared to Harold, who suggested that they should drop their investigation for the time being. There were far more pressing issues to attend to.
Lately, both boys used every free minute they had to study for the Cadet School entrance examinations. They even had, for the time being, suspended their excursions in the U-Bahn system. They studied and studied. Their fathers supplied them with school books from the higher classes. By the end of the school year they were so far ahead of their class that they were bored out of their mind during the school hours.
There was nothing the teachers could tell them that they did not already know forward and backwards.
“I am sure that my grades are sufficient,” Karl confided to Harold as they carried their report cards home. Report cards were given twice each year, six months apart from each other.
The German report card grading system started with #1 as very good and ended with #6 as insufficient. The only thing better than #1 was a handwritten remark by the teacher such as: excellent, best of the class, extremely advanced and similar comments.
Neither Karl nor Harold had received a number in their last report card. They had nothing but remarks of excellence. But, they also had a remark below the #6 in turnen (physical education).
Harold’s remark read: "Unable to catch a ball and unwilling to learn."
Karl’s card was not any better: "Objects loudly to ball games by claiming that he cannot learn anything from a ball which is round and only rolls around the ground. He also refuses to run or jump."
“That’s about right,” said Harold as he studied the teacher’s remarks and Karl agreed. Due to shortage of teachers (most of them had been drafted) the class now numbered 128 students. Herr Halama had been drafted as Karl had anticipated and was not heard from anymore. There was even talk among the students that they might get female teachers in the new school year and that the all-boys classes would be integrated with girl students.
“If we get female teachers, I definitely want to be in the Cadet school. I mean my mother is nice and all and she cooks alright but she knows her place when my father speaks.” Harold was adamant about that.
Karl loved his mother, but suspected her of being in tune with the Nazi propaganda. His father was quiet when a discussion about Hitler was about to unfold. Karl considered him to be a wise man. But like Harold, he was unable to equate a female with an authority figure.
He agreed with Harold that the best way to learn something worthwhile might be by attending the Napola. But, he had heard from his father that the Napola too demanded a certain amount of physical education.
In addition to that, his father could not fully prove their Aryan linage. Due to the destruction of some records during World War One, some of the birth records from their great-grandparents had been lost. These were two strikes against him.
Harold on the other hand could prove his Aryan ancestry far beyond the requirements. He was also physically strong and might overcome the remarks on his report card.
The examination for the Napola took six days. In the German test system there was no provision for multiple choice answers. All the answers had to be in writing, about a minimum length of 70 words. If the answer was less than 70 words but was correct, you still lost points for failing to give sufficient examples. If the answer was over 100 words and correct, you lost points because you ‘rattled’ on.
In short, your answer had to be precise and to the point.
Both boys passed the academic requirements with flying colors. A week later their parents received the final results. Harold had been accepted to a school specializing in sciences. There were over 30 Napola schools in Germany at that time teaching political leadership, sciences and linguistics. Karl had been rejected. No reason was given. Karl’s mother was even more disappointed than Karl.
“How could this be?” she asked her husband, who was also disappointed. “Karl is just as smart as his friend Harold.” Herr Veth did not answer. He thought that he had let Karl down in his research of their Aryan lineage.
Karl was thinking already in a totally different direction. “Among other things, you have taught me to roll with the punches. And roll I will. I will make you proud of me. Just give me some time," he announced to his parents.
“What do you intend to do?” asked his worried mother.
“I have an idea,” answered Karl, “but before I tell you I need to gather some additional information.” He turned to face his father. “I would like to talk with the school director. Could you please go with me?”
Herr Veth was surprised. In his school days the students avoided the principal like the plague. Yet his son wanted a meeting. “Of course I will go with you,” he answered Karl.
The next day, Karl went to the school office and obtained all the propaganda leaflets flaunting the benefits of a KLV camp, or children evacuation camp. The school authorities wanted to entice the parents to send their children out of the city, preferably to relatives in the country. If the parents did not have any connections in the country, the schools offered evacuation camps. The children would be housed on farms or, sometimes, in resorts.
The benefits were obvious. The students would be safe from the bombing attacks and could study without air raid interruptions.
An additional benefit for the parents was the fact that in the near future all of the unimpaired fathers would be drafted and the mothers might also be drafted to work in defense plants. Since the evacuation camps were provided without any costs to the parents they were an ideal solution.
Karl’s next move was an unscheduled visit to see Rudy at the Jungvolk office. “Heil Hitler,” he shouted as he entered the room.
He clicked his heels and was careful to stand at attention until his salute was returned. Rudy remembered the boy. Not by name, but he had seen him twice a week attending the afternoon gatherings.
“What was your name?” he asked as he scrutinized the boy.
“Karl Veth,” came the answer.
Rudy liked what he saw. He noticed the polished shoes and the correct position of the summer regulation cap on the head: two fingers wide above the right ear, three fingers wide above the left ear and four fingers wide above the eyebrows. Many of the boys could never get it right. But Karl wore his cap as if he were a role model. His belt buckle was shiny and the belt was spotless.
“Rudy,” began Karl, "I applied for the Napola but got rejected. However, I know that I passed the academic requirements and here are my report cards to prove it.” Karl handed Rudy his report cards and stepped back to resume his position of standing at attention. “I would like to join a KLV camp, but not with boys in my age group. I'd like to join as a study assistant for the younger children. Is there any way that you can give me an assignment as a Jungvolk reporter?”
Rudy looked at the report cards and was amazed when he read all the remarks. “Explain, Karl, and stand at ease.”
Karl moved his left foot forward and shifted his weight to his right leg. “Well, I could write about the camp activities for our Jungvolk paper. But that is not all. My father and I have a meeting with our school principal coming up. It would be helpful if I could receive a letter from your office attesting to my discipline.”
Rudy understood. “You want help from the Jungvolk to obtain a position in a KLV camp.”
Karl beamed in anticipation. “Yes, Rudy, can you do it?”
Rudy liked the idea. “Why not? You could write for the Jungvolk periodical as well as for the school paper. Besides that, you could serve as a role model for the 8 to 10-year-olds. I will take it up with our Bann leader,” he said. The Bann leader was the adult and highest ranking leader in the Jungvolk. “If he agrees with your idea, you will receive more than a letter of recommendation. You will receive an assignment the school will be unable to ignore.”
Karl saluted and then had another question: “How old are you now, Rudy. I mean, will you have to join the army and will I see you again when I come back from camp?”
Rudy was not sure of his answer. “I am close to seventeen and I could volunteer to join the Navy. But, I am sure that we will see each other again. Come back in a few days and pick up your assignment.” Karl liked the last part of the answer. He was encouraged that his plan might work. His next job was to convince his parents of his idea.
But first he wanted to consult with Harold. He wanted to see him anyway to say goodbye.
“Tell me, Harold, what you think of my plan?” he asked his friend after he had explained to him what he had in mind.
“I think that it is a great idea. Why did you not tell me about it earlier?” Harold answered.
“I did not think about it earlier because I expected to join you in the Cadet school. I am sorry that I did not make it.” Karl was really sorry when he said it, but Harold grinned back at him.
“One other benefit," Harold said. "If you get into a KLV camp you might avoid a female teacher.” Both boys had been scared of that possibility.
“How would you approach your parents if you were in my shoes?” Karl asked.
Harold thought a moment. “Isn’t it clear? Your mother has her hands full with your sister and your brother. If you leave for camp it would not be any different than if you would have left for a Napola. I would just ask them for advice as to the location of the camp. I think you have a choice, or?” Harold was not sure about that.
“I think that I do but all I really know is that the camp is always for a six-month duration,” Karl answered.
“Yeah, six months is also my first term away from home,” Harold scratched his head.
“In a way I am almost sorry that we have to part. We have not really begun to explore all of the subway system.” Harold looked expectantly at Karl as if he wanted to take a fast excursion. Karl agreed.
“We will do that when we are together again. You might not like the school and I might not like the camp. We could be back faster than we think.” The boys shook hands. Harold had to report for a three-day introduction course starting the next day in Potsdam and Karl went home to explain his grand idea to his parents.
“Well this is great!” his mother exclaimed when he was done. “You will make a great contribution when you tell the children about Herr Hitler.”