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Kahn was aware that some of the boys. he wasteaching, had daubed the front of his house with paint. He suspected yes. Manfredfelt uncomfortable about this but also recalled the excitement he’d felt. Thesense of release. The sense of power.

Therewas no doubt Herr Kahn was the best teacher in the school. This was Manfred’s view.He was certainly the most lenient. In the two years he had been in Herr Kahn’sclass, Manfred could not recall a single incident where violence had beendeployed to control the classroom. In fact, Manfred realised this made himalmost unique within the school. Yet things had changed. He could see this onKahn’s face. He sensed it in the classroom. It was there, almost palpable,brushing against his face, reaching inside the heads of the children. Areckless energy crackled in the air that was moments away from igniting. Theleast flammable substance in the classroom seemed to be the chemicalsthemselves.

Itwas clear both pupils and teacher were waiting for something. A moment when thechanging balance of power could be made explicit. Kahn seemed to understandthis. Each day the pressure built, unspokenbut recognised.

Athome, too, tension was mounting. Manfred’s mother was openly dismissive of the HitlerYouth, but this was based on a contempt she felt for all young people.

‘Well,they seem to have fired up the young people. It’s very distasteful,’ commentedRenata Brehme.

Hisfather was more circumspect about the movement but clearly uncomfortable.

‘Firesrun their course,’ replied Peter Brehme sourly. He tried mockery, aware Manfredwas listening. Manfred understood it was a message to him.

‘Theythink they’re little soldiers with their uniforms. They don’t know what war is.’Nor do you for that matter, thought Manfred. Peter Bremhe had remained in thepolice during the War and avoided service.

Matterscame to a head on Saturday evening.

-

Manfredwas a member of the church scouts. His father had been in favour of hisparticipation; his mother was, as ever, ambivalent.For Manfred, it represented a chance to be away from the house, to be withhis friends during the evening.

Ashe arrived at the church hall, later than usual, he sensed something wasdifferent. It was quiet. When he opened the door, hecould see why. Marius, the group leader was standing to one side, fear andshame etched deeply on his face. He was looking at three young men, all dressedin Hitler Youth uniform. Marius turned and walked away from the group towardsthe door Manfred had entered through.

He saw Manfred and said bitterly, ‘You can stay if you want to,that’s it for me. I’m having nothing to do with the Nazis.’

Manfred looked from Marius to the rest of the group. There wereabout twenty boys, all young teenagers. Some, like Erich, also wore HitlerYouth uniforms. They were all looking at him. Manfred looked at Marius and thenback to the group. His heart was beating so loudly he wondered why it was not echoing in the hall.

Hewalked forward without looking back at Marius. All at once the group broke intoa celebratory song "Vorwärts!Vorwärts!" Manfreddidn’t know the song. He felt as if his feet were being carried on air. He bathedin the acclaim of his rejection of Marius, a young man in his early twentieswho had run this group for the last three years. They all liked Marius.

Laterthat evening, Manfred returned home. The exhilarationof the last few hours was dissipating quickly as he wondered how hewould tell his parents that he wanted to join the Hitler Youth. Each stepcloser to the house clipped away at his courage. His previous mood of elationwas replaced by anxiety, then fear and a desire to keep it a secret. But, howcould he? It was a small town. Soon everyone would know of what had happened toMarius. The poor fool.

Thethought of Marius brought a stab of guilt. He had not led the coup d’etat, buthis final denial of the young man had sealed his fate as surely as Nero turninghis thumb downward or Peter denying Jesus. What, two hours ago, had been amoment of triumph became his shame. Manfred knew Marius deserved better.

Ashe thought this, he grew angry. Angry at Marius. Why hadn’t the fool joinedthem? Couldn’t he see what was happening? The Hitler Youth offered so much morethan the scouts. The scouts were for children. How could they be prepared forthe responsibilities of manhood, of rebuilding their shattered nation bytalking about God and how to help your parents in the house? What use was that?Now his mood had changed. His exasperation towards Marius had changed hissloping walk into a stride and his back straightened as he thought about howMarius had slunk out of the church hall. This would not be his fate. He arrivedat the door of his house.

Hewalked into the house. His mother ignored him, and his father was in the study.Leni, the housemaid smiled at him, but he ignored her and thought about goingstraight up to his room without saying goodnight. For a moment he wasundecided; then he decided to go to his mother.

‘Yes?’asked his mother looking up from her book.

Hegave her a kiss on the cheek and said ‘Goodnight.’ Then he walked along thecorridor to his father’s study. His heart was now beating fast and he felt histhroat constrict.

Twoquick knocks on the door were greeted with a curt ‘Enter.’ Manfred did so andfound himself in front of his father who was sat behind his desk.

‘Yes?’asked his father.

‘I’vecome to say goodnight,’

Hisfather glanced at his pocket watch and looked back to his son and said, ‘Alittle early, isn’t it?’ Manfred remained impassive. His father had not reacheda position as head of police without some understanding of when someone isholding something back. ‘Is something wrong, my child?’ he asked,sympathetically.

‘TheHitler Youth have taken over the scouts.’

Thisseemed to trouble his father and he sat back in his chair. After a few momentshe said, ‘Marius is now with the Hitler Youth? I’m surprised.’

‘NotMarius. He left tonight.’

‘Really?’exclaimed his father. Now he sat forward and looked at his son. ‘Are the restof the boys happy about this?’

‘Yes,Father.’

Hisfather nodded slowly. It was immediately apparent what had happened. What washappening. He looked his son in the eye and asked, ‘Are you happy about this,my

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