"Clear the Streets for the Brown Battalions!"
The "wounded" are carried off.
"Experts" drill the troops in "Present
The Liebknecht House's last defenders
The Liebknecht House is captured.
A "concentration camp" is established
in the courtyard.
One is weary after hard political labors.
How often do we think of our own childhood as we
watch children play! After finishing the school work — and
sometimes before — it was a pleasure to head outside and
let childhood fantasy run free in games like thief or cowboys
and Indians. Sherlock Holmes and Nat Pinkerton were the models
for our inventiveness. Buffalo Bill roused us to courageous
deeds, which often ended a free-for-all. We devoured the ten-penny
novels, which often led us to imitate their tricks and pranks.
Karl May’s thick novels did the same, bringing our imagination
to a fever pitch.
Our post-war youth do not always have it as easy and pleasant as
earlier generations. Particularly in big cities, the lack of room
to play has particularly noticeable effects on children. The spiritual
pressures of the last fourteen years always weighed heavily on children's
souls, hardly allowing their natural playfulness to be expressed.
And the asphalt literati thought that it was bad for children to
be interested in military games. Such snobs joked about the little
lad with a wooden sword and a paper helmet.
In this area, too, much has changed since 5 March [the
last real election]. The national revolution
also did not leave children's souls untouched. Even the youngest
children sing the Horst-Wessel Song with burning enthusiasm
and real devotion. The youth greet S.A. and S.S. men with
raised arms and a joyous “Heil Hitler.” The strong
figures in brown shirts earn the respect and quiet admiration
of children's hearts, joined with the longing to themselves
become such a Hitler soldier.
There is a lot of noise in the courtyard of a large Munich apartment
building. The boys have invented a new and lively game. Between
them, they have gathered 2.40 marks to buy the necessary equipment.
A “Brown House” [Nazi
Party headquarters] has been built with cloth
and sticks in the center of the courtyard. Inside the tent are
a picture of Adolf Hitler, and a postcard with the words of the
Horst-Wessel Song. The five- to twelve-year-old boys have done
everything themselves. The happy owner of a drum is the leader.
They practice hard, and succeed. They study the songs. Things
often get lively, for example when the Karl-Liebknechthaus, made
of old trash cans, is stormed. It is then searched, and the communists
taken off to a concentration camp. The littlest S.A. man is so
eager that he is often in the courtyard early in the morning to
call his comrades together. He is thought to be very brave. His
improvised brown shirt is a little tight around the neck. He can
hardly breathe when the collar is buttoned. When a grown-up expressed
concern, he proudly answered:
“An S.A. man has to be able to put up with that!” With
a thoughtful wrinkle of his brow, he got back to work.
In the evening, their mothers call them in for supper. The Sandman
then slips into their quiet dreams, drumming and trumpeting, and
they sing, attack, and triumph.
The youth once again has a future...