Hitler-Jugend - Helga: growing up in Hitlers Germany

Karen TruesdellRiehl

2015 San Diego Book Awards Winner

Growing Up in Hitler's Germany is a majorand valuable addition to World War II literature. It's most highlyrecommended. Jack Magnus for Readers' Favorite

BOOKS BY KAREN TRUESDELL RIEHL

Love and Madness: My Private Years withGeorge C. Scott

The Ghosts of Fort Ord

Saturday Night Dance Club

Freedom's Sins

Hello Again

Bad Girl: A Play

Helga: Growing Up in Hitler's Germany

Ghosts of the Queen Mary

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a nonfiction novel, atrue story based on my 2001 interview with a former member of theJugend, Hitler's child army. All persons and events depicted aretrue to Helga's memories of the five years of childhood shatteredby lies and disillusionment. Only the dialog has beenfictionalized, using the dramatic techniques of a novel. Except forher actual first name, the names of Helga's family and friends havebeen changed to respect the privacy of those still living with thememories.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Copyright 2014 Karen Truesdell Riehl

All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writtenpermission from the author, except in the case of brief quotationsembodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover design by Ronnell D. Porter

Hitler's "Invitation"

Treats and lies

Clever Seduction

Kristallnacht

I see The Fuhrer!

Frau and Herr

Meeting Herr Goebbels

Collecting for the Fuhrer

A student reports her teacher

What's an Aryan?

My missing friend

Off to camp

On the train

Happy campers

Losing faith

Homesick and disillusioned

Home for Christmas

Evacuated

Aryan Test

Forced labor and disgrace

Breaking free

The long journey home

I walk alone

Crossing a river

Home

"There are no Nazis here"

In a hundred years time, perhaps a greatman will appear who may offer the Germans a chance at salvation.Hell take me as a model, use my ideas and follow the course I havecharted.Adolf Hitler, shortly before his death.

I met Helga in 1977. Slim, brown hair andeyes, she was the librarian in an elementary school east ofSeattle. I was working for the Head Start program, travelingbetween schools, checking the hearing and eyesight offour-year-olds. I visited Helgas school once a month. We becameimmediate friends and had lunch together every day I was there.

Helga had a heavy German accent but nevermentioned growing up in Germany. One day my curiosity led me to askhow long she'd been in this country. She told me she met herAmerican soldier husband in Germany, shortly after the war. Theymoved to the United States in 1948.

A month later, when we met for lunch, Iasked her to tell me about what she experienced during the war. Shehesitated a moment, then announced, not proudly, I wasJugend.

Whats a Jugend? I asked.

She looked me in the eye and said, We werehis child army, trained to revere and obey the Fuhrer.

Did you want to be in his child army?

Not at first.

Then, how did they persuade you?

Clever seduction.

This is Helga's story.

My program for educating youth is hard.Weakness must be hammered away. I want a brutal, domineering,fearless, cruel youth. There must be nothing weak and gentle aboutit. That is how I will create the New Order.

Adolf Hitler, 1933 speech upon creating theHitler Youth organization.

Hitler's "Invitation"

On a Wednesday afternoon, the year of mytenth birthday, a letter from Adolf Hitler was delivered to me atour Berlin apartment on Schillerstrasse. My mother and I werestanding at the kitchen sink preparing vegetables for supper whilewe hummed tunes coming from her radio. We were interrupted by thesound of the mail dropping through the front door slot and landingon the floor in the front hall. Mutter, always expecting letters tobring good news, smiled and dried her hands on her yellow, cottonapron.

I wonder what happy surprises the mail hasbrought us today, she said, and hurried down the hall. When shereturned a few minutes later, she walked slowly, staring at anunopened envelope. She closed her eyes briefly, opened them, took adeep breath, and slowly tore it open. She read the letter toherself, then switched off the radio and sank into a kitchen chair.Patting the seat next to her, she said, Come. Sit beside me. Shetook another deep breath. This letter is for you.

A letter for me! Is it a birthdaygreeting?

... in a way.

What do you mean, in a way? Who sent it?Let me see. Suspicious she was teasing me, I reached out for theletter. But she held it away from my hand.

Its from Adolf Hitler, she said with aweak smile, Well read it together.

Adolf Hitler! He is an important man. Wehave a poster of him at school.

Im sure you do. There are pictures of himeverywhere.

Why is he sending me a letter?

All children at least ten years old byApril 20, Hitler's birthday, must join his child army. Now that youare ten you are to become a Jungmadel, she said, and read theletter aloud. It told me to buy a uniform and report in one week toan address a few blocks from our home.

Whats a Jungmadel? I asked.

A Jungmadel is a member of Hitlers Youthgroup. All youngsters your age are invited to join.

When I asked her what Hitlers Youth Groupwas, she put her hand on mine and said, Its a special club.

A club? What do we do? I asked.

She said she didnt know. Maybe sing songsand march.

I asked if she had been in his special clubwhen she was little.

She said, No. There was no youth groupthen.

Do you want me to join?

After a pause she said, I...of course.

Why?

So you can learn how to be a goodGerman.

Cant you and Vater teach me?

Yes, she said. But Hitler wants it thisway.

You said it was an invitation. Cant I justsay, No thank you?

She pushed her chair from the table andwalked to the window.

No...its an order. She stood with herback to me, the light shining on her slim silhouette and reddishbrown hair.

I followed her to the window. Hes not myVater. How can he tell me what to do?

Because hes the German leader.

I moved closer to her so I could feel thewarmth of her body. What if I dont want to join?

Still facing the window, she said, You haveno choice.

But, Mutter, youve told me I always havechoices.

She hugged me close, a gesture that alwaysgave me comfort. But this time the tightness alarmed me.

Now Herr Hitler makes the choice foryou.

Pulling away, she looked down at my shoulderand smoothed a wrinkle from my sweater. Im sure there is no needfor my little girl to worry... and who knows? You may havefun.

The look on Mutters face was the same aswhen she told my Vater not to worry about something. Dont worry,Friedrich, she would say. Everything will be all right. Youllsee. Then shed take his hand and hold it next to her face.

Now, I felt sure there was something toworry about. I pulled away and made a grab for the letter.

Mutter, lets tear it up and pretend wenever got it.