The first thing that happened, in the winter of 1933, was that all teachers of “non-Aryan” or Jewish descent were relieved of their posts. An edict was issued on July 11, 1933, that included teachers with all other State officials, ordering them to subordinate their wishes, interests, and demands to the common cause, to devote themselves to the study of National Socialist ideology, and “suggesting” that they familiarize themselves with Mein Kampf. Three days later, a “suggestion” was sent to all those who still maintained contact with the Social Democratic Party, that they inform the Nazi Party of the severance of these connections. Committees were formed to see that it was carried out, and whoever hesitated was instantly dismissed. The purge was on.

It was decided, in Prussia first (November, 1933), and later in all German schools, that public school teachers must belong to a Nazi fighting organization; they were to come to school in uniform, wherever possible, and live in camps; and, during the final examinations, they were to be tested in Geländesport — military sports

This was all deadly serious, and the teachers knew it. Hitler had cried in Weimar, “If there are still people in Germany today who say, we will not join your community, we will remain as we are, then I reply, ‘You will pass on, but after you will come a generation that knows nothing else!’ ”

The teachers, haunted by this verdict, are helping to educate this generation.

“We German educators (says Studienrat L. Grünberg, Commissioner of the Augusta State School in Berlin, in Wehrgedanke und Schule, p. 5) must set ourselves free from the conception that we are merely transmitters of science. A future passage at arms of the German people will determine if the German teaching class has become a useful factor of the German people of the Third Reich.”

That is how the officers of education babble to order. Everything is based on the “future passage at arms of the German people.” And since the Führer has made, above all, the race-consciousness of the people a duty, this race-consciousness, according to the “defense-philosophy,” must insistently occupy the thought of the German educators.

In the Spring of 1937, a decree was issued by Reichswalter und Gauleiter Wächtler:

“I hereby decree that every member of the N.S.L.B. (National Socialist Teachers’ Union) submit a table of his ancestors in three copies, with official documents of proof, or certified copies of the same, to the Sachbearbeiter (specific worker) of the political district to which he belongs, for information as to consanguinity. The Gausachbearbeiter für Sippenkunde is to examine the entries and send on table to the Reich Executive of the Teachers’ Union, retain one copy at district headquarters, and return the third to the applicant, together with all the original documents…. The table of ancestors is to be distributed later by the applicant…. On with the good work!                     “Fritz Wächtler.”

The educators sit down and “distribute.” The small heroisms of daily life exhaust any independence or courage left in them: a teacher is a hero if he says “Good morning!” instead of “Heil Hitler!” to a pupil, or if he treats a Jewish student with anything but the orthodox abhorrence, or if he singles out a really brilliant scholar who does not happen to be gifted in calisthenics. And a medal might very well be struck for the teacher mentioned in the New Sheet of the N.S.L.B. as “having failed to make contact.” “Strange,” the attack concludes, “for he is an unquestionably excellent teacher. He is an exemplary scholar. His punctuality and meticulous sense of duty have become proverbial in the circle of his associates. His method of teaching has often been tested. The results of his teachings are astonishing. His pupils look up to him as to a father. He is a true comrade to his co-workers. He is always ready to do anyone a favor. And yet… he lacks one thing. When we converse about National Socialist ideology, in spite of all his efforts to comprehend, he shows a strange uncertainty. And if his pupils ask him questions about the purpose and meaning of National Socialist measures, he often finds difficulty in giving adequate answers….”

The name of this eccentric is not given; but he knows what he may expect from now on. The Nazis themselves praise him, and cannot understand why he is unable to “make contact” with them. “An excellent teacher!” He is more; he is a secret hero in that front which fights one at a time today, and whose whole voice we shall hear when its time comes.