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

Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich (18 page)

BOOK: Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich
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“If you would have made your reservation early enough we might have been able to accommodate you. However, if you wish a pillow, I will endeavor to find you one.” None of Karl’s features gave an indication whether he was serious or if was mocking the party member.

Hannelore resolutely pushed her hair back. “I don’t need a cushion, but I demand respect,” she answered lamely.

Karl was on a tear and pressed on. “Frau Wigand, with all due respect, I have to warn you that you are supposed to answer my salute with a likewise ‘Heil Hitler’. If you fail to do so I have orders to report you for disloyalty to the SS commander in Berlin.”

The oldest teacher thought she detected some twinkle in Karl’s eyes. But, if there was, it was not obvious to Hannelore. She sat stiff as a board and glared at Karl’s uniform.

Karl clicked his heels, shouted once more “Heil Hitler” and left the compartment.

“I think that I will ask for a transfer,” said Hannelore Wigand to the other teachers. This time she caught her hair in time.

A little bit further along the gangway, Karl bumped into Peter coming from the front of the train. “Everything alright?” he asked his new partner.

Peter grinned from ear to ear. “Everything is fine, Karl. Any specific instructions for me?”

Karl stood still for a moment and then a thought crossed his mind. He had to test his newfound friend anyhow.

“Yes there is. A few compartments back is the teacher’s cubicle. I am a little intimidated by Frau Wigand. She is the teacher sitting next to the gangway. Do you remember her from the train station?”

“No,” said Peter. “You sent me away before I met anyone.”

“Anyhow,” Karl continued, “do you know how to correctly salute a party member?

“No, but I know how to salute an officer,” Peter replied.

“Good, good, it is almost the same. Except, instead of vocalizing the rank of the officer you simply say: ‘Partei Genosse, (party member) and follow up with the name, if you know it. Understand?”

Peter was a bit unsure. “Please give me an example, Karl.” Karl was only too glad to comply.

“Heil Hitler, Partei Genosse Wigand.” He extended his arm and clicked his heels to give Peter the correct example.

“That’s all?” asked Peter. “You just want me to salute her?”

“No,” said Karl, “after your salute ask her if she has any special wishes. But be sure to yell real loud at her. I think she is hard of hearing. Click your heels and lock eyes with her or look straight at her party emblem.”

“I don’t know, Karl, this sounds a bit weird.” Peter had some misgivings. He had known Karl just for a few minutes, but he could not picture him being intimidated by a female teacher or anyone else. Karl’s demeanor was far too self-assured.

“Alright,” Karl felt sorry for Peter who seemed to trust him. “This here is more like a private joke between us. There is no harm in it. I just don’t like stupid adults.”

Peter did not answer and Karl continued.

“Hmm, yes, I know there are no stupid adults, Peter. Sorry I said this. But there are adults who act stupid. You have to give me this,” Karl smiled.

Peter’s face brightened up again. “Don’t worry Karl. If this is just a harmless joke between us, I am all for it. But why do you think that this Frau Wigand acts stupid?”

Karl shrugged his shoulders. “It is either that or she is disturbed.”

“Are you saying that she is nuts?”

“No, off course not, I don’t even know her. It is just …” Karl was searching for words. “It is just that she is demanding respect and at the same time she is unable to control her hair.”

“She is unable to control her hair? What’s that? And this is why you want me to ask her if she has any special wishes?”

“Yes, you got it,” agreed Karl. “See how harmless it is?”

Peter’s eyes glazed over. “I understand nothing, Karl. But I will do it. However, you owe me one.”

He walked towards the teacher’s compartment. Karl followed at a safe distance. It was not in his interest to be seen by the teachers.

“Heil Hitler, Partei Genosse Wigand. Do you need anything? Or do you have any special wishes?” Karl heard Peter’s voice loud and clear. Darn, Peter was alright.

There was a moment of silence and then “Heil Hitler. No, thank you.” It was the voice from Frau Wigand.

Karl smiled to himself and continued his walk forward to introduce himself to the remainder of the boys and then took a seat near the front of the train. A short time later he was joined by Peter.

Before the boys could talk to each other, the seemingly oldest teacher entered their cubicle. She looked sternly at Karl. “Karl, my name is Frau Grunert. Why do you pick on Frau Wigand?”

Karl got up. “Nice to meet you, Frau Grunert. I am not picking on Frau Wigand. She wanted children to help her with her luggage and she demanded respect as a Nazi party member. I only complied with her demands. I saluted her correctly and she ignored it. I advised her according with my HJ instructions as to the consequences and sent sub leader Peter to salute her and to offer his services.”

Frau Grunert was impressed by the unapologetic answer. Everything Karl had stated was true. Matter of fact, Karl had been under no obligation to warn Frau Wigand of the consequences. She had seen children ratting on their parents and she had witnessed the penalties. But still, she was supposed to be the senior teacher and leader of the camp and could not afford to lose a teacher before she even got to the camp’s location.

After Peter had left the compartment, Frau Wigand had announced that she would take the next train home.

“Karl, look, you seem to be an intelligent boy. I have seen your recommendation and your report cards. Because of this I have specifically asked for you as my camp sub leader and now I need your help. Frau Wigand wants to get back to Berlin and we need her as a teacher.”

“How many children do we have in this camp?” asked Karl.

“Close to three hundred,” answered Frau Grunert.

“Alright, if you are down to three teachers you will have a class size of about one hundred students. From what I have seen this is doable.”

He took his seat again because Frau Grunert was sitting down by the window.

“What do you wish me to do, or how would like me to help you?”

“I want you to talk to Frau Wigand. Tell her that you will not report her. She might change her mind and stay with us.”

Karl smiled. “I’d be happy to talk to her and convince her to stay. I will also assure her that she is safe from me. Besides, I would never report anyone.” It was easy for him to give this assurance because it was true.

“But, tell me Frau Grunert. Are we really this short of educators that we need someone like Frau Wigand as a teacher?”

“What do you mean, Karl?”

“Frau Wigand is enthralled with herself. She stumbles around on high heels, she is fighting with her shoulder bag and can’t keep her hair out of her eyes. In spite of this she is demanding respect. For what? Nine-year-old boys are not that stupid. They will see right through her and know that they cannot learn anything worthwhile from a teacher like that.”

Frau Grunert was forced to defend her teacher. “What possessed you to come from her behavior to this startling conclusion?”

“I am training myself to connect the dots. I agree in Frau Wigand’s case I have only very few dots to connect. But still, they are enough to support my assumption.”

Karl took a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket. He straightened out the folds and marked four dots on the paper. Two of them above the other two, they were of about equal distance to each other.

“Please look at this, Frau Grunert.” He connected the dots and showed her a square. “This is not a circle, this is not a triangle, this is a square. Not much doubt about it.  Maybe not a perfect square, but it is pretty close to one.” Karl put his pencil away.

“Karl, your drawing looks convincing but you cannot compare a person’s ability with the outline of a few dots.” Frau Grunert asserted. She had to admit to herself that the square did not resemble a triangle and kept looking at the paper.

“You are right, Frau Grunert. I am new and inexperienced at this concept of connecting the dots. Please show me where I am wrong.”

While Karl politely agreed with Frau Grunert, Peter was captivated by the dialog. He had thought that Frau Grunert would put Karl on the defensive; instead it seemed that his new friend was constantly scoring points.

“I cannot show you that your drawing is a circle, but at the same time your square is no indication of Frau’s Wigand’s ability or inability as a teacher.” Frau Grunert was adamant. “A human being is a complex entity and cannot be defined by a few dots and pencil strokes.”

“You are right again, Frau Grunert. We need a few more dots.”

There was a knock on the door and a boy stuck his head into the cubicle. “My name is Dieter. We were promised some sandwiches or something to eat. Where do we get it?”

Frau Grunert got up. “Thanks for reminding us. Please go back to your place. We will come with some trays in a minute. I think we even have some cookies for you.” She motioned at Peter and Karl. “Come with me and we will serve the children together.”

Karl also got up and put the paper back in his pocket. He opened the sliding door for the senior teacher. “Please don’t worry about Frau Wigand. I will talk to her,” he promised her again.

The boys followed her to the teacher’s cubicle. Hannelore frowned at the boys who stood in the doorframe when Frau Grunert entered.

“We should tend to the food service. Where are the boxes with the sandwiches?” she asked and looked from one teacher to the other.

Everybody shrugged their shoulders and looked at each other. Frau Grunert’s face changed to a slight shade of red. “Everybody had specific orders. Who was responsible for getting the food on the train?” she demanded. She reached into her handbag and took out a typed manual. It listed the names of the teachers and their individual duties. Before she could ascertain who was in charge of the food detail Frau Wigand spoke up. 

“There was just too much of a hurry and confusion at the station. I remember now that it was my job. But there was not enough time. I had to look out for my belongings.”

Before Frau Grunert could think of an answer, Peter piped up. “I saw some brown cardboard boxes at the front of the platform. They were marked KLV rations. I thought that they belonged on the train, so I placed them in an empty compartment of the first wagon.”

All of the faces showed immediate relieve except Frau Wigand’s.

“See, this is what I mean. Everybody was busy doing something. No wonder that I could not keep track of everything.” Her hair covered again half of her face.

Karl said nothing. He reached into his pocket and while he looked keenly at Frau Grunert, he added another dot to his drawing. He was just about to put it back in his pocket when it seemed that he remembered something. He turned the paper around and wrote something on the backside.

“What are you doing, Karl,” asked Frau Grunert, who had watched him while the other teachers followed Peter to the front of the train.

“I am starting another diagram,” said Karl.

“Why?” demanded Frau Grunert. “Isn’t adding a dot enough for your conclusions?”

“It is,” agreed Karl. “The one on the backside is for Peter.”

“Karl,” said the senior teacher. “The very moment we are settled in our camp I want to see you in my office. You and I need to talk.” She smiled at him as she said it and the tone of her voice was warm and friendly. Karl could sense that it would be a pleasant meeting.

***

The camp was near Stallwang in the Bavarian forest and the quarters of the boys were divided between several farms. Frau Grunert turned out to be a very competent camp leader and Karl enjoyed his frequent conversations with her.

He had also talked with Frau Wigand with the result that she reconsidered and stayed on as a teacher for the six-month term of the camp. Karl, on the other hand had not revised his initial impression of her. He had no reason to do so. She shirked any kind of work not directly related to teaching. Peeling potatoes or even the cleaning of her own room was strictly beneath her.

“How do you obtain a teaching degree?” he had asked Frau Grunert in the second month of their stay. “You cannot receive it by setting an example, because Frau Wigand would have flunked it.”

“Listen, Karl, you are much too harsh in your expectations. We are in extremely serious times and facing serious conditions. You should give Frau Wigand and also yourself a lot more leeway.”

Karl considered the answer because he wanted to learn from this knowledgeable camp leader. She might be right, he thought. I should be more flexible.

“You are right, as always, Frau Grunert. I think that giving others and myself more latitude makes for a much easier and also pleasant living.” He tried to picture himself laying lazily in the sun and not caring what was going on around him or what was coming down the pike. However, that was not him and he could not really imagine himself doing that.

“Tell me, Frau Grunert. These marginally competent teachers, I mean the ones who are only concerned about themselves and don’t care about being a good role model for the children, can’t they just be dismissed by the school administrators and forced to leave the school system? And if not, are they receiving the same pay as the really proficient teachers, like you?”

Frau Grunert was surprised by the blunt question.

“No Karl, we cannot throw teachers on the street and yes, we all receive the same pay, subject to the length of our teaching career.”

Karl nodded his head. “If this is the case, then you are right. We are not only facing serious conditions, we are experiencing them right now.”

He went to see Peter who was in the middle of organizing something like a soccer match between two teams. Karl admired Peter’s dedication to team sports. This was something he could not get excited about.  That he should cheer for one team or the other did not make any sense to him. One team had to win, no way around it, but the next time the other team would win. So what was the big deal?

BOOK: Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich
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