“Hitler Youth enjoys special training in riding, driving automobiles, driving carriages, use of signals, path-finding, first aid and music. It also receives special training in Luftschutz and flying with or without motors.”
“Special training in giving first aid and in music.” Is that quoted from some Nazi table or is Mr. Taylor responsible for the sequence? It is the sequence of Hitler, who could listen to Lohengrin, rapt, as his bombs ruined Paris; and it is in the spirit of the State Youth.
The survey goes on to inform us that thirteen-year-olds must march eleven miles a day; fifteen-year-olds march thirteen-and-a-half miles, carrying an eleven-pound load. That is hard training, and of doubtful benefit; its effect on the bodies of children has been testified to by the Nazis themselves, in the Frankfurter Zeitung of May 27, 1937, which says editorially:
“The latest conscriptions have brought to light the surprising fact that there is above all an abnormal increase of that disease known as “flat feet.” For example, out of every hundred conscripts for the year 1936, thirty-seven or thirty-eight are described as suffering from this ailment.”
Thirty-seven to thirty-eight per cent of young Aryans ready for military service are afflicted with flat feet, the trait which, apart from large noses and full lips, is most often used in their anti-Semitic caricatures. The Frankfurter Zeitung is not alone in its mention of this “surprising” observation. The Munich Medical Journal (No. 14, April 2, 1937) reports an address given by the Magdeburg orthopedist, Professor A. Blenke, on “Flatfoot among our national comrades, and its relation to their capacity for work and military defense”:
“…He further indicates the fact that such inflammatory conditions, which were formerly found principally among apprentices and in the years of adolescence, now often appear among school-children, at an age when they never used to appear. According to the lecturer, the reason for this is that too much is demanded of the feet of these boys and girls through marches on hard roads, carrying heavy burdens besides — in other words, exerting them to tasks beyond their strength. The importance of prophylactic measures against this is shown by our military examinations, which indicated that an alarming number of conscripts were incapable of service in the army because of flat feet.”
Professor Schede of Leipzig reported, on the occasion of a “Cripples’ Welfare Day,” that in his examination of the Jungvolk, more than 50 per cent of those on workers’ duty and liable to military service suffer from lessened capacity of the foot; and the majority of these have consequently weakened spines.
But Professor Schede, the editorial-writer, and the lecturer on “Flatfoot” may be fault-finders. What is really demanded of these children? What do they say about all of this in their own propaganda? This is a story, in full, from the Jungvolk of June 1934 — from a periodical issued for and by children from ten to fourteen years old!
THE LAST THREE MILES
We are sitting at the side of the road. Some of us complain about the food, others object to the hardships of life and this eternal marching. We have been underway for several days now. At first, we ate so much that we could hardly move. Now that we have reached the end of our money and so of our food, most of us have some fault to find. All the Pimpfe are complaining except Heini, who chews away cheerfully all day at a bit of cracker. “All you fools can beef, but let’s see you do any better!” Heini draws down the corners of his mouth and spits. Nobody talks, except someone who growls about “not wanting to find fault” but “you simply gag on this food.” Our Juschafu ( fugendschaftsführer ) Hans rises and says, curtly, “Let’s get on!” We start off: 12 — 15—18 miles. Our feet are worn out and stink. Three miles more. Heini is swaying oddly. One of us begs: “Let it go at nine, this once!” “No, let’s get on,” repeats Hans. Beads of sweat drip from Peter’s chin in a steady stream. Hans takes his monkey (knapsack) from him. “Who will carry Heini’s monkey?” he asks. No one volunteers. Heini is biting his lips. “Oh, well, give it to me,” I offer, “for one mile, then let someone else take it.” Immediately a number of the fellows mumble: “But not me.” After a mile Hans takes the monkey from me and hands it to one of the complainers. He doesn’t wish to take it. “So that’s your idea of comradeship!” Hans’ voice is acrid. Nuegg takes the monkey. A quarter-mile more. Then the one who refused it before takes the monkey, and while he drags along both monkeys he whistles softly. Some song about comradeship. Again a quarter-mile. “Let it go,” he says. “I’m used to it now.” We have to take the monkey from him by force. The next one who gets it doesn’t complain at all. The last three miles seem much longer to us than the first twelve. Finally we reach the village by the sea. We drop into the hay as though we were dead. The first thing in the morning, Nuegg opens his first-aid kit for those who have trouble with their feet. Heini was the first to be ready. The fact that he had kept going the day before had made him popular. Curiously enough, there was a good mood among the entire Jungschaft. No quarrels, no fault-finding. Everyone pretended that the food was fine (but the food was, as a matter of fact, the worst part of the march). After a day of rest the trip went on. Slowly, of course, for now we were at the seashore. The Stimmung remained good during the rest of the two weeks. And if anyone so much as opened his mouth, Heini gave him a poke, or even a sock in the jaw. Three weeks have passed since then. Evening at home. We talked about Socialism. And about comradeship. One of us said: “We learned what comradeship is, on that great journey!” Hans Blohm, Altona.