Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich (21 page)

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Authors: Horst Christian

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Dramas & Plays, #Regional & Cultural, #European, #German, #History, #Europe, #Germany, #Drama & Plays, #Continental European

BOOK: Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich
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“Merry Christmas,” announced his father after the grandma had opened the door to their small hallway.

Karl and Willy had to wait in the hallway, which was only lit by a small light bulb, while his parents and Monika were allowed to enter the living room. After several minutes the grandfather walked through the foyer and like every year, he was carrying two pails of water. One in each hand.

“Get ready to shout ‘Merry Christmas’, after we are done singing,” Karl reminded his brother just before a small bell sounded from the living room giving the boys the signal to enter.

Slowly the door opened and Karl reached for his brother’s hand as they walked in. The grandparents, attired in their best garments, sat in two chairs on one side of a 6-foot pine tree, which was decorated with a few shiny silver balls. On the other side stood Karl’s parents with little Monika between them.

It was cozy and warm in the living room. In the corner stood a huge tiled Kamin (oven to heat a room). Grandpa had stoked it with coals since the morning and the tiles radiated the heat throughout the apartment.

As the boys walked closer to the tree their grandparents started to sing O Tannenbaum (Oh Christmas tree) and Karl, Willy and their parents chimed in. Karl scanned the small bench on the far side of the room. It was covered with Christmas-colored dishes. By tradition each of the children would receive a dish of their own, which featured some apples and nuts and cookies.

Besides the dishes Karl could discern some presents for his brother and sister and to his joy he also spotted two books which were surely meant for him. His eyes wandered back and forth between the presents and the candles on the tree.

He always feared that the tree might burst into flames because of the real wax candles burning between the dried out branches but it never happened. In reality, his grandparents were not taking any chances with the burning candles. Depending upon the size of the tree, they never numbered more than nine and the two buckets of water his grandfather had provided were standing close by.

After singing the first verse, Karl let go of his brother’s hand, took a step forward and recited his poem. As he delivered the second verse his grandmother did not seemed to be very pleased. It was a modern poem and had been approved by the HJ leadership. The text had something to do with stars forming a bridge in the sky to allow the souls of the fallen soldiers to communicate with their loved ones at home.

Karl liked it because it was up to date with the war going on but he had the feeling that his grandma thought it was not religious enough. However, his grandfather and his parents smiled and encouraged him to keep going. After he was done he bowed his head towards his grandparents and then stepped back to take his place next to his brother.

The grandparents started to sing the second verse of the Christmas tree song but nobody except the old cavalry officer knew all the words. Before the song ended everyone was singing the first verse again. 

Karl’s favorite Christmas carol was actually ‘Silent Night’ and he would have loved to sing it. But, of course, there was only one holy night, December 24th, and that was last evening. To sing this song on Christmas day or on any other day was unthinkable.

It was now Willy’s turn to please the grandparents. Karl silently wished his brother good luck and was startled when he heard what Willy had to say.

“I will be nice,” he promised and looked longingly at the cookie dish under the tree.

“And what else?” prompted his mother. Willy tried hard to think of another thing to promise. “I will share my toys with Monika.”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. It was obvious that he wanted the cookies and that he was also at the end of his list for promises. His sister must have understood what he was saying because she started to look around for toys but was unable to see them. 

The grandfather knew that it was time to let the children sit down. He got up from his chair to extinguish the candles, which were now almost halfway burned down. He fetched a strange-looking contraption to stub out the candles. It was a long stick with hooded piece of metal on the end to snuff the flame. The device also featured a wick below the hood to light any candles that were out of reach.

The living room was also the dining room and Grandma had decked the table with porcelain dishes that were only used on Sundays and only by the adults. The children had to use the regular every day earthenware dishes. Karl looked forward to the day that he would be allowed to drink out of one of the precious cups because his mother had told him once how much better the liquid tasted when it was served in the correct dishes. However, today was not the day. Grandmother served him the coffee ersatz (imitation coffee) in the regular everyday cup.

Sunday dishes and Sunday flatware for the adults, and the smell from the pine tree and the candles; it was Christmas alright. Despite the meager portions it was a festive afternoon.

“Are you thinking about buying a radio?” Herr Veth asked his father.

“I don’t think that we will ever buy one,” answered grandpa. “There is no reason why we should. We get all the news by reading the morning paper.” He reached for yesterday’s issue because there was no newspaper edition on Christmas Day. There would be also no edition on the following day. Christmas in Germany was a true two-day holiday. Everybody stayed home and all the stores were closed. Not even a pub was allowed to be open.

The street cars and buses ran during the daytime on a very limited schedule and in the evenings everything came to a total stand still.

The grandfather seemed to be looking for a particular news story but could not find it. He put the paper next to the oven where it would serve as kindling when needed.

“Do you think that you get your money’s worth out of the radio you bought?” he asked his son.

“I think that would depend on how much value you place on receiving timely news about the war.” Herr Veth was a little defensive because he knew that his father would never listen to anything else on the radio. Not that there was much else being transmitted. There were only two stations to choose from. One of the stations occasionally had some music programs and the other station transmitted war-related reports. Sponsors or advertisers were against the law and if they would have been permitted, nobody would have bought the advertised items in the first place.

If anything smacked of promotion it had to be an inferior product to begin with.

“Then I am right that I don’t need one of these expensive toys. The war is lost anyway and if I hear about it today or read about it tomorrow in the paper, it will not matter one way or another.”

The grandfather did not mention anything about the newest radios which featured a short wave receiver. They were extremely expensive and almost impossible to obtain. But they would enable a listener to obtain broadcasts from other countries in Europe and even from oversea stations.  However, listening to these stations was strongly forbidden and if a citizen was caught he would face draconic penalties.

 

Eighteen

Karl was supposed to leave with a new transport of children within the first week of January 1944. He used the free time to visit with Harold at the Jungvolk head office. It was a new office located in an office/apartment building.

“How are you coming with your English lessons?” he inquired.

“Fairly well but I am not going back for a third term.”

“You mean to tell me that you are already proficient in your language skills?”

“No, not by a long shot. My schooling got suspended for the time being.”

“Who suspended you? Are you out of the Napola?” Karl wondered.

“Well, my father used his influence to get me a temporary assignment as a supply clerk in the local HJ office.”

”Where will this be?”

“Right here,” Harold was proud to announce. “My father told me that any requisition from the local KLV and HJ district will get processed through this office.”

“Interesting, but I still don’t understand.” Karl wanted to hear more details.

“I am not too sure myself. But, if I understand correctly, there are separate supply and food warehouses in and around the city and there are daily demands from various organizations.”

The clueless expression on Karl’s face did not change.

“Our office will be coordinating the requests with the available supplies,” Harold tried to explain.

“So, if I get this right, you will be one of the decision makers of who gets what?”

“No, you dummy, I am only supposed to help with the paper work.” Harold did not add that his father was one of the decision makers.

“When did this happen?” Karl pondered what he had just heard.  

“Well, my birthday is in a few days and I will have to join the HJ. My father doesn’t want me to be trained as a soldier. I think that he wants me to be a paper pusher, just like him.”

“Your father must have a lot of authority to pull this off.” Karl knew that the latest HJ requirements were nothing short of infantry exercises, including specific air raid emergency duties and first aid training. He would also be turning fourteen in July and hoped that his current assignment to the KLV camps would continue when he had to join the HJ.

“No, I don’t think that my father has this much pull,” Harold chuckled. “I think that my father is bribing the right people.”

Karl was eager to hear more about the bribing technique and was ready to ask questions when the office door opened and Peter walked in. He had an appointment with Karl at the KLV office in the school building next door.

“Let’s go. We are late,” he urged, after Karl had introduced him to Harold.

“Will you still be here when we come back from the meeting?” Karl wanted to visit some more with his friend, who he had not seen for nearly a year.

“Don’t worry, I am here to stay. I will be waiting for you.” He waved at the boys as they scampered out of the door.

The meeting with the KLV officials was brief. They were informed that their destination was a newly established camp by Goslar in the Harz Mountains. A little more than three hours by train, they were told. The date of their departure was still the same, only their assembly point had been changed to a different railroad station.

Each of the boys received a packet of instructions and, to their surprise, they also received an envelope with extra rationing coupons and entitlement certificates. They were allowed to use the rationing coupons any way they wished but the entitlement certificates were for the specific items the boys had requested upon their return from the last camp.

Karl had two coupons for two pairs of long warm uniform pants and one coupon for a pair of leather winter shoes. He looked at Peter, who had a similar certificate for shoes, and both of them wondered where they could possibly buy their footwear. All the regular clothing stores and shoe stores were nearly empty of merchandise.

“Where do we go shopping with these papers?” Peter asked the KLV clerk who shook his head.

“I don’t know, besides these certificates you also need certain Beziehungen (connections) but don’t look at me. I don’t have any.”

“What now?” Peter looked at Karl. “Do you have any connections?”

“Not really and not to any stores,” Karl twirled the certificates in his hand. “But we might know someone who does.”

They walked back to the Jungvolk office.

“Help,” announced Karl when he spotted Harold. “We have some clothing certificates but no idea where to locate the merchandise.”

Harold was only too happy to help. He thought that this was an opportunity for him to learn about the functioning of this office.

“Let me have these papers.” He had seen many entitlements for entities like a hospital but never for individuals.

“Sit down for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Karl looked around the small room which featured a desk and some shelving on the back wall. There was not a single chair in sight. The boys sat on the desk watching a female technician from the phone company installing some equipment on the wall. Neither Karl’s nor Peter’s parents nor relatives owned a phone. They observed with interest how the woman made some test calls. She smiled at the boys.

“It’s all yours and ready to go,” she said, then turned to leave.

“Please, hold on for a moment,” Karl jumped from the desk and looked at the phone. “Am I able to call with this anyone I wish with this line or is this just a line to the HJ Headquarters?”

“You can call anyone in this country,” answered the technician.

“Who pays for the call?” Peter wanted to know.

“The NSDAP (Nazi party) will be billed for it.” She pointed to a printed guideline she had place on the desk. “Just read the instruction manual. It will tell you what you are allowed to do.” She was halfway out of the door when she turned around. “Let me show you how to place a call. Whom do you wish to call?” She looked expectantly at the boys, ready to help.

Karl twisted his upper body before he found an answer. “I don’t know anybody who owns a phone. Do you know someone?” he asked of Peter.

“No, I don’t either.”

“Well, good luck with it.” The woman smiled once more at the boys before she left.

“This lady must be old, did you noticed that she had gray hair?” Karl, always observant, asked his friend. “Of course I saw that. My father says that it is a terrible shame that this war causes women to work.” Peter voiced his father’s opinion.

“My grandfather says the same thing. He says that a woman should be placed on a pedestal but never allowed to work,” Karl agreed.

“What does he mean, placed on a pedestal?” In Peter’s mind was a woman standing on a base, like a statue.

“I really don’t know what that means. But, my father told me that when I grow up I should only get married if I can afford a wife. If he ever finds out that my wife is working, I don’t have to bother to come home anymore. His door would be closed. He meant it too.”

Karl loved his father and in spite of his harsh rules he was determined to live up to them. He could not imagine that his mother would have to work. But he was feeling uneasy thinking about his future. The war made it seem impossible to plan for a specific career. He wondered if he could ever afford a wife.

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