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

only take a week or two at the most and the boys would know how to salute.
    Neither Karl nor Harold owned a watch but they observed the large clock hanging on the outside of a pharmacy near the police station when they returned on the following Tuesday. There were several other boys of likewise age who looked at the clock to make sure they would be on time. Ten minutes before 4:00 PM they went down the street and entered the police station.
    A large sign in the hallway directed them to their assembly room.
    Each of the boys shouted Heil Hitler when they entered the room and almost poked their eyes out when they extended their arms in an effort to greet each other. Each one of the salutes was returned by a fourteen year old boy who stood next to a desk. He was dressed in the summer uniform and glanced towards a clock hanging on the sidewall. His manners were relaxed and his voice was distinct but friendly. When the clock showed 4:00 PM, he walked to the door and closed it.
    “Alright, line up on the walls around the room. The tallest one over here on my left and then the rest of you line up according to your height. Which means the smallest one will be at the far end.”
    Karl went right away to the end of the line. Nobody in the room was smaller than he was. Harold, however, stood in front of the line.
    “My name is Bernard and you can call me Bernd,” the 14 year old announced. Karl, who had an eye for details, noted that the uniform shirt of Bernd must be either new or starched. It looked flat and unwrinkled.
    Bernd picked up a piece of paper from the desk and began reading off names. Every one of the boys answered with ‘ Present ’, except for a heavy-built boy who seemed kind of lost.
    “Dieter,” Bernd addressed the boy, who nodded, “Please make it easy and conform to all of us. We answer the roll call with ‘present’. Understood?” He had an infectious smile. The boys lost their initial uneasiness and instinctively warmed up to him.
    “We will spend a lot of time together and we will make a good team. We are called a Jungschaft, which is the smallest unit in the Jungvolk.”
    Bernd continued, “I am a Jungschaft leader.” He pointed to a red and white cord, which extended from his breast pocket to a center button on his shirt, “This little cord shows you my rank. Dieter, come here next to me.” He gripped Dieter by his shoulders and turned him so that he stood sideways to the boys.
    “Extend your arm straight out in front of you. Fingertips at eye level and fully extended. Now click your heels and shout Heil Hitler .”  Dieter lost his shyness as Bernd turned him right and left to show the boys the proper way to salute. “Now, all together. Raise your arms like Dieter, who will from now on serve as our salute role model.”
    All the boys lifted their arms as instructed. When it came to clicking their heels it was a little difficult to follow the example. It took a few minutes until Bernd was satisfied.
    “You are doing great. Next time we will train on this again until it becomes a part of you. For your next exercise, I will show you how to stand and how to walk. I am not talking about marching, I am talking about walking and standing without slouching.”
    The next hour and a half passed like a minute. Every one of the boys wanted to please Bernd, who seemed like a brother to them.
    “I wished that Herr Halama would be this easygoing,” said Harold as the boys left the police station.
    “Now, that would be a stretch,” agreed Karl. “Herr Halama and easygoing does not even sound right. Something is wrong with that.”
    They passed a small grocery store that was about to close the doors for the day. The grocery woman carried the vegetable boxes from the outside rack to the inside to lock them up and the grocer was serving his last customers. The sign on the outside showed that the service hours ended at 6:00 PM.
    “Let’s have some fun,” suggested Harold. “We should enter the store and