Witzleben's familiar newsroom replaced it. The broadcaster said, 'That was, of course, Heinz
Buckliger,Fuhrer of the Greater German Reich and the Germanic Empire.' When Witzleben saidof course, he meant it. He blinked a couple of times before going on, 'An extraordinary address. A memorable address. the Fuhrer set his mark on the Reich. As he leads us, as he guides us, so we shall go. That is our only proper-indeed, our only possible-course. A new era is upon us, and in times to come, as the Fuhrer said, we shall learn exactly what this means. For now, good night, and I return you to your regularly scheduled programming.'
Regularly scheduled programming was a vacuous quiz show. To Susanna, the hardest question was why anyone would watch it. People did, though. She heard them talking about it.
Whatshe wanted to talk about was Buckliger's speech. She hurried to the telephone.The Gimpels or the Stutzmans? she wondered as she picked it up. After a moment's hesitation, though, she replaced the handset in the cradle without calling anyone. After a speech like that, weren't the phone lines too likely to be monitored? And wasn't she likely to be under some suspicion anyhow, as someone who knew the Kleins? Better safe than sorry. That wasn't heroic, but it was probably smart.
No one called her that night, either. Heinz Buckliger talked about abandoning old ground and striking out in new directions. The people living in the Greater German Reich were only too familiar with the old ground, and with its minefields. Buckliger might lead. After so long making such careful calculations, could the people follow?
At the bus stop, Emma Handrick sniffed. 'I saw a little of the speech last night,' she told Alicia Gimpel. 'Only a little, though. He didn't look like a Fuhrer to me. How could he be a Fuhrer if he wasn't wearing a uniform?'
Seeing Heinz Buckliger in an ordinary suit had also startled Alicia. Still, she said, 'He's the Fuhrer, all right. Who else could he be? He spoke from the Fuhrer 's study. We've seen it a million times. Who else could do that? What would they do to somebody who tried?' She didn't quite know whothey might be, but there was always athey for such things. She had no doubt of that.
Emma sniffed. 'He didn't look like it.' She had a one-track mind. 'He looked like a businessman or a salesman.' In the regimented Reich, there weren't too many groups that didn't wear uniforms of one sort or another.
'He does seem to be something different,' Alicia said. Her parents had warned her not to talk too much about Buckliger's speech; people might pay unusual attention to what she said. Since she wasn't sure how much was too much, she changed the subject: 'New school year coming up in a couple of weeks.'
'Thank heavens!' Emma exclaimed. 'I don't care who I get next time.Herr Kessler thinks he's a concentration-camp guard, not a teacher.'
Emma didn't care what she said, or who heard it. Alicia envied her. 'Some of the others are just as bad,' she said.
'They're pretty bad, all right. I think you have to be mean to want to be a teacher-look at Beast Koch,' Emma said. 'I never had her, but still… Kessler's the worst I ever had.'
'He's not very good,' Alicia agreed. She hadn't had Frau Koch, either, and thanked heaven she hadn't. She pointed down the street. 'Here comes the bus.'
When they got to school, they played in the yard till it was time to line up in front of their classroom. Less than half a minute before the bell rang, Emma let out a gasp of horror. 'I was going to ask you for your arithmetic homework,' she said in stricken tones. 'I couldn't do it last night.'
'Too late now,' Alicia said. The clang of the bell confirmed her words.
Herr Kessler opened the door. 'Guten Morgen, Herr Kessler!' the children chorused. 'He's going to skin me,' Emma whimpered under that chorus. Alicia could only stand there. Her friend was all too likely to be right.
'Good morning, children,' the teacher said. 'Come in now, and no talking out of turn.'
In they filed. If anybody talked, Alicia didn't hear it. Neither did Kessler. He led them in the salute to the flag. Their arms shot out. Alicia remembered how, up till this past spring, she'd been proud to be a German like everybody else. Part of her still was. The rest recoiled in horror from the very idea. There were times when she wondered if she'd been torn in two inside.
But she didn't have time to stay torn in two, not when Herr Kessler prowled to the front of the classroom. All of her had to pay attention to him. 'How many of you saw the Fuhrer 's speech last night?' he asked. Most of the students' hands went up. Kessler pointed to a boy who hadn't raised his. 'Hans Dirlewanger!'
'Jawohl, Herr Kessler!' Hans jumped from his seat and stood stiff and straight.
'Why didn't you watch that speech?' Menace lurked in the teacher's voice. His eyes went to the paddle on the wall.
'Sir, my father is a captain in the Wehrmacht, ' Hans answered. 'He came home on leave from occupation duty in the United States. We all went out to supper, and then to the cinema. We didn't get home till late.'
'Oh.'Herr Kessler considered. Reluctantly, he nodded. 'This is acceptable. Be seated.' As Hans sat down, Alicia wondered if the teacher would pick on somebody else so he could give out a swat. Not this morning, though. Kessler paused, then found a question: 'What is the most important thing the Fuhrer said last night?'
Had he asked about arithmetic or history or grammar, Alicia's hand would have shot into the air. Had he asked about this before she knew what she was, she would also have been eager to answer. Now she hesitated. She couldn't help worrying that a mistake would endanger not only her but all the other Jews in Berlin, even the ones of whose existence she was ignorant.
Others weren't so shy-and had less to worry about. The teacher pointed to a girl. 'Trudi Krebs!'
That's interesting,Alicia thought.She probably hasn't had less to worry about than I do. But now that new ways of doing things seemed important,Herr Kessler thought Trudi had the answers. Before, he'd wanted to see her and her family in trouble. Trudi said, 'the Fuhrer told us the Reich needs to change so it can work better.'
When she put it like that, it seemed safe enough. The teacher nodded.'Sehr gut,' he said. 'Yes, that is exactly what the Fuhrer said. And so, as he leads us, we shall change, and we shall be better for it. Do you understand?'
'Ja, Herr Kessler!' the children sang out.
'Sehr gut,'Kessler said again. 'Then let us go on with the day's lesson.' He spoke with a certain amount of relief, or so it seemed to Alicia. Did he sometimes think, as she did, that too much talk of politics might be dangerous? If students got answers wrong, they got paddled. What happened to teachers who got answers about politics wrong? Maybe Herr Kessler didn't want to find out. He nodded. 'Arithmetic, then. Pass in your homework. At once. No talking.'
Behind Alicia, Emma Handrick let out a soft gasp of dismay. Kessler's head swung toward her. But he couldn't decide who had made the sound. Sometimes he punished everyone in the neighborhood if he didn't know just who had got out of line. Maybe he still felt on unsafe ground today, for he looked away.
But then he said, 'We will do some of the problems at the blackboard.' He called on Alicia and several children who sat near her. She knew what he was doing. If one of them had no idea what to do, he would decide that was the person who'd made a noise. It wasn't a bad ploy in the unending war between teachers and students-except that he didn't summon Emma to the board.
Alicia got her problem right. She stood in front of the blackboard till Kessler nodded and sent her back to her seat. One boy made a mistake, but it was a careless, obvious kind of mistake: he multiplied seven by four and got thirty-five early in the problem, which naturally made his answer wrong. Other than that, he knew what he was doing.Herr Kessler corrected him, but didn't haul out the paddle.
Balked, the teacher went on with the lesson. Alicia hated these problems. If the German fighter plane flew forty kilometers an hour faster than the American one, started from a base sixty kilometers behind it, and took off fifteen minutes later, how far would it have to go to catch up? You had to keep track of everything at once. She was good at that kind of thing, but even she found it hard. She wondered how poor Emma, who wasn't any too bright, was faring.
After arithmetic came grammar.Herr Kessler passed out worksheets where the student had to identify parts of speech and the cases of nouns and adjectives. While they slaved away on those, he graded their arithmetic papers.
Alicia was good at arithmetic, but she was very, very good at grammar. She zipped through the paper, and finished well ahead of anybody else. Of course, all that got her was the chance to sit quietly till the other children finished, too. She watched the teacher correcting papers. Every so often, he would look up to see if anyone was getting into mischief, and she would have to look away. But then he would go back to arithmetic, and she would go back to watching him.
She knew when he got to Emma's homework. She'd got a glimpse of it as they passed papers forward, and it
