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Read an Excerpt
I, too, received a lesson in heroism, how to bear sacrifice and keep my head up in this war. The morning after we received the death notice, my teacher, Fraulein Stoehr, a fanatical Nazi, ordered me to stand up in front of the class and tell everyone how proud I was that my father had given his life for the Fuehrer. I stood before those hundred children, my face burning, my hurt heart thumping. I clenched my fists and swallowed hard, determined not to cry or otherwise show anyone how I felt. I forced myself to drain all emotion from my voice, even forcing my mouth into a grin, and said, "Yes, we heard yesterday that my father died in France for the Fuehrer. Heil Hitler." My face was flushed but I made sure to walk calmly back to my seat. No one said a word to me. Trauderl and Else studiously avoided eye contact, meeting my forced indifference with an embarrassed smile. They were relieved when I joined them in a schoolyard game during break, hoping that all was back to normal.
(pp. 111-112)
Meanwhile Fraeulein Hofmann (my new teacher) continued to single me out. "Heil Hitler, Irmgard, come on in," she said the day I accepted her invitation to have a special treat of hot chocolate and cookies at her house. She was dressed in her usual straight skirt, dull beige blouse and no jewelry. I wondered why she had invited me. After a few Hoeflichkeiten -- polite words -- she asked point blank what my grandfather thought about Adolf Hitler and what he said about the war. I was still angry with my grandfather, but stalled, sitting uncomfortably on the moss green, upholstered chair in Fraeulein Hofmann's living room, weighing my feelings against my answer. On the one hand, Grossvati was not allowing me to recycle paper for the war effort, and Mutti and Tante Emma had a job closing all the windows and checking the landing for listeners when he started his loud badmouthing of Hitler. Perhaps I should tell Fraeulein Hofmann about that. On the other hand, he was my grandfather. I knew the twinkle in his eyes when he was amused and had seen tears running down his face when one after another the messages arrived that both his apprentices had been killed on the eastern front. On those terrible days he had not thrown a fit, just gone quietly into his workshop and looked around as if he were lost in this, his own space.
After much too long a pause I came to the decision that I liked this nosy teacher less than my grandfather. "Well," she said with just an edge of impatience, offering me another cookie, "Is he on our Fuehrer's side and the fight for Germany's future or not? You must tell me. I am sure you are on the Fuehrer's side." I said, my heart beating so hard she must have heard it, that I did not know what he thought and that he never said much anyway. Just saying that gave me the courage to lie further, and I assured her that he said nothing about the Fuehrer. I stopped fumbling for more lies when I realized that she didn't believe one word I said. I felt my face turning red and had no idea what I would say if she pressed further. But after a pause she let it go, saying that we would talk again after I had listened to my grandfather more carefully. Shaken and relieved, I finished my chocolate and she led me to the door.
(pp. 156-157)
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