Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich Read Online Free PDF Page A

him.
    “What kind of bet?” Karl asked. He and Harold were with the group of the 15-minute children.
    “Which one of the teachers will be the first out of the school?” Harold held a pig's lard sandwich in front of Karl. “The winner gets to eat the Stulle.” (Berlin slang for sandwich)
    Karl was a sucker for pig's lard and Harold knew it. “Not fair to tempt me. I'll take the wager. I bet on Herr Halama.”
    “That is a sure bet. You have to give me odds.” Harold was licking the lard as it dropped off of the gray rye bread. After the lard saturated the bread, it always started to leak. It was now right at the stage where Karl liked it best.
    “I also bet that he will not return to the school today, even if we get an all-clear signal within the next ten minutes.” Karl agreed to give these odds; he could almost taste the sandwich.
    Harold did not even bother to think about it. None of the teachers ever returned to the school, even if the alarm was at 8:30 AM and the all clear came at 9:00 AM.
    “That’s not a bet Karl and you know it. Here I'll share the Stulle anyway.” He let Karl have the first bite, who tried a second attempt at the bet.
    “I also wager that none of the teachers will return today.” It was just a little after 10:00 AM and it was only a drill, but Herr Halama was already out of sight.
    “No bet Karl. It will never happen. I just wonder what school will be like when we have real alarms and air attacks.”
    He looked at the remainder of his sandwich because Karl had taken an enormous bite out of it. “Here, enjoy the rest. You must be hungrier than I am.”
    Karl had to admit that all the odds had been in his favor. Neither he nor Harold had ever seen a teacher returning to class.
    “I thought the adults are supposed to set examples,” remarked Harold.
    “I don’t know about that,” said Karl. “All I can think is that this rule does not apply to teachers.”
    Harold agreed. The teachers seemed to be the ones who made all the rules while at the same time had none of their own. The boys decided to make their way to the local Jungvolk headquarters. Both of them had turned 10 years old during the summer and as mandated in Berlin, had to enroll in the Nazi youth movement.
    The enrollment was during the months of September and February. In 1940, different cities and rural areas in Germany had different requirements. The enrollment was not very complicated. For the most part, a modest form letter from the school sufficed. It listed the personal data from the boys including something like a report card. This report card, however, was very important for both of the boys. Along with their grades, it listed comments from their main teacher regarding their behavior during the breaks.
    Both of the boys always studied during recess to get ahead of the class. It was their aim to apply to a Napola school. Napola stood for National Political Educational Institution. It was the top cadet school in Germany. However, they had to wait until they were 11 to apply.
    The HJ Scharfuehrer (squad leader) in charge of enrollment into the Jungvolk was about 17 years old. Apparently, his name was Rudy Scholz. It was written in bold black letters on a piece of cardboard slanted against an inkwell.
    “Heil Hitler,” shouted both boys as they entered his small office at the local police station.
    Rudy looked them over before he returned their salute. They looked kind of odd to him because Karl was small and skinny, while Harold was slightly larger than normal.
    “Stand three feet away from my desk and stay at attention. Do you know what this means?”
    Karl shrugged his shoulders, “No.”
    Rudy got up from behind his desk, “I will show you.” He stood straight and erect in front of the boys, his feet about shoulder width apart and both hands folded behind his back.
    “This is the correct way to stand as long as you are in the Jungvolk. You will receive your HJ training when you are thirteen years