Mama sighed. “Look,” she said, “I know this won’t be easy for all of us, but we’re a family and we stick together.” She smiled as she leaned forward to snuggle us all into a bit of a group hug.

Mama was right — it wasn’t easy, but once we were in Stuttgart and settled into our rented townhome, things began to seem more like normal. I thought the hardest part would be my new school. However, the first day wasn’t so bad. The teachers introduced me, and the other students seemed polite. The real struggle came after school, when I attended my first meeting at the local Hitlerjugend chapter.

Even in Reutlingen, the Hitlerjugend was never my favorite activity. All the focus on sports and military drills was terrible, and Mama secretly hated them because she believed their teachings undermined the Catholic Church — but it was either join or be ridiculed mercilessly at school. I was already harassed enough for being Catholic in a mainly Protestant area, so I joined to not add more fuel to the fire. Pretty much the only thing I found enjoyable about Hitlerjugend was the fact that I got to go hiking and camping a lot with the chapter in Reutlingen.

Once I made it to the classroom where my new chapter met after school, I could tell these big-city boys were going to be much different than what I was used to. After I had changed into my uniform in the school bathroom, I stood awkwardly outside the classroom, just watching as some of the other boys entered. Most of them were strong, and some tall — well on their way to becoming perfect soldiers for the Reich. Meanwhile, there I was: short and scrawny and not much of an athletic bone in my body at that point. 

Most of the other boys filed into the classroom without even a second thought about me standing there. Then, two boys paused to take notice of me. One was very tall, with red hair and a long, freckled face. The other was shorter — but still taller than me — with dark hair and thick eyebrows. They both looked physically imposing. At first, I thought they might say something to me, but the redheaded boy only gave me a smug smirk as he entered the classroom. The dark-haired boy frowned, then followed after his friend like that was his job. I waited for a moment and went into the classroom myself. 

The troop leader was Herr Boxleitner, who was also a physical education teacher at the school. He didn’t look much like a P.E. teacher — more like a literature teacher, with his thick spectacles and his slightly receding hairline — but one thing was certain about him, and that was his unyielding reverence for the Führer. 

Once Herr Boxleitner had called the meeting to order, he made sure to pull me up to the front of the classroom to introduce me to everyone. It was just the sort of thing someone as shy as me dreads completely.

“Alright, if I may have everyone’s attention,” Herr Boxleitner said as he placed his hand firmly on my shoulder. “Before we begin, I’d like to introduce our new member: Milo Schweinhardt. Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, Milo?”

As I looked out at everyone seated before me, I began to sweat. The possibility of making eye contact with anyone terrified me, so I cast my eyes downward as I forced myself to say something. “Um … well … I just moved here from Reutlingen … and I’m happy to be here, I guess…”

Muffled laughter filled the room, and my stomach dropped a bit. 

“Reutlingen?” a voice sneered.

I glanced up briefly to see it was the redheaded boy, still wearing that smug expression on his face.

“Aren’t people down there known for kissing their sisters?” he asked mockingly. 

What had been slight giggles then became uproarious laughter, and I felt the pit in my stomach sink even more. I was used to being made fun of — for being the hare-lip boy, the Catholic, the stutterer — but never in my life had an entire classroom of people laughed at me. 

Herr Boxleitner gave the redheaded boy an exasperated look. “Alright, Anton, that’s enough.”

Slowly, reluctantly, everyone who had been laughing stopped, and I rushed in embarrassment to find a seat. The only one that was left was next to the redheaded boy. The bully. Anton. I sat, trying not to look at him. Within a few minutes, Herr Boxleitner had us all up on our feet at attention. 

“Let’s make our Führer proud today,” he said. And then we were made to salute Herr Boxleitner’s framed portrait of the Führer. 

“Heil Hitler!” everyone shouted. Well — everyone but me. I just mouthed it because I hated saying it. He wasn’t God, Jesus, or a saint, so why would I praise him in such a way? I just let others believe I had said it.

After the salute, we made our way out to the sports field. There, we met up with the younger grades’ troop. I quickly realized they took all their drills and exercises very seriously. I struggled to keep up with the other boys, especially in running laps, and it was very noticeable since there were only about two others who fell behind as much as I did. 

By the time we were done outside, the sun was already setting, and we made our way back into the school building. As I walked up the stairs to the third floor, I became out of breath and fell behind once more, this time all by myself — or so it seemed. All the physical activity had exhausted me completely. I was about to pause for a moment once I reached the top of the stairs to take a short rest.

Before I could react, there was a flash of movement in my periphery. Someone’s arm reached across me. Their hand slammed against the wall to my right. I stopped just short of running into them. It was Anton, blocking me from walking any further. 

“The Hitlerjugend in Reutlingen must have really low standards,” he said.