Free Children to a Degree - Growing Up Under the Third Reich by Horst Christian

make himself heard. He was right. Nobody listened to him. He climbed down again and decided not to go to Frau Niehaus for help. Instead he went to find the crewman who had given the information about the lock. He found him in the engine room and explained to him what he had in mind.
    “You want to rotate the access to the windows?” laughed the crewman. “Will never happen, my boy. As long as I have been here the weak and polite ones sit in the middle. Don’t even try. You will have all the bullies against you.”
    “Never mind that,” said Karl. “Can you blow a whistle so that the children will listen to me?”
    The crewman laughed again. “Yes, I will do that. Give me five minutes and I’ll be there. But, I tell you right now, you can talk all you want. It will not happen.”
    Karl was not discouraged. He went back and walked the length of the seat benches. When he came to the windows he copied the names and birth dates of the most unruly ones. The boys glared for a brief moment at him and his uniform but respectfully made room for him when he pretended to catch a look out of the window.
    “Now?” asked the crewman when he showed up next to Karl.
    “No,” answered Karl, “change in plans. May I please borrow your whistle?”
    The crewman laughed again. “Good Luck.” He handed Karl his whistle. Karl climbed once more on top of the bench and blew the whistle so hard that he almost scared himself. He had to blow it once more but then he had the attention of the boys.
    “My name is Karl. I am the one to see when you are hungry. Did you enjoy your sandwich?” he asked.
    There was some cheering from the boys and he blew the whistle again.
    “Please hear me out. When we get to Heringsdorf we will have plenty to eat. Some of you will turn ten and will join the Jungvolk. I will call out the names of the few of you who are now eligible to assist me.”
    There was not even a murmur anymore. Everyone wanted to hear the names.
    “Gert Wiesegang.”
    “Here,” answered one of the intimidators.” It was exactly the answer Karl had hoped for.
    “‘Here’ is no answer for a German boy!” He thundered at the top of his lungs. The correct answer is PRESENT. If I hear anyone answering with ‘here’ he will be placed on probation.” He faced the bully who was almost his size. “Once more, Gert Wiesegang!”
    “Present!” The answer was loud and clear.
    “Step forward into the center walkway.”
    Karl continued to call out the names. When he came to the end of the list he had ten bullies lined up in front of him.
    “Listen up,” he addressed them. “You are now my deputies. You will keep this position unless you fail to carry out my instructions.”
    He studied the boys in front of him. “You are a sorry bunch. Stand at attention when I speak to you” He stepped down from the bench and showed the boys how to stand at attention.
    “You will start your duty right now. I want you to make sure that every one of the boys on this boat has equal time to sit at the window. You will rotate the boys every ten minutes. Not more, not less. Use the ship’s clock to correctly time the intervals. If I catch you playing favoritism you will be dismissed and ineligible for leadership during the next six months. Get started.”
    The selected boys tried to salute, but Karl waved them off. “Later,” he said, “we will have time for proper instructions. Right now carry out your assignment.”
    To the crewman’s amazement the former disorderly boys marched now down the aisle, each one of them was pulling one of the shy kids along and allowing them to sit by the window.
    “If I did not see it I would not believe it. Keep the whistle,” he told Karl. “I have another one.”
    Karl went back to Frau Niehaus who had followed Karl’s actions. “This was incredible. We were never able to control the window seats. Whoever appointed you as a sub leader must have known what he was doing. Very well done, Karl.” She patted