September 15, 1930, 2:35 a.m.—Eckhardt Residence
Emilee woke up with a start and looked around wildly. The light coming in through the window was faint and muted, and she saw that the curtains stirred slightly in a soft breeze. She turned her head and fell back to her pillow. The other side of the bed was still empty. After a moment, she lifted her head from the pillow again, not sure what had awakened her. There was no sound now. Keenly disappointed, she turned on her side, facing away from the window, and closed her eyes again.
A minute later, she jerked up again as she heard a car door open and shut softly. It was right outside her window, in their driveway.
“Hans!” With a cry of joy, Emilee threw herself out of the bed and snatched up her bathrobe. She raced through the door, down the hall, and into the living room, turning on lights as she ran. She reached the front door just as the knob turned. The door opened, and Emilee threw herself into the arms of her husband.
“Tell me everything,” she exclaimed as she pulled him down beside her onto the sofa. “Are the final results in?”
“Yes. They were confirmed by teletype shortly after one o’clock.” Hans smiled. “It’s official.”
Emilee punched him hard on the shoulder. “Then tell me, you lout! Don’t you dare keep me in suspense for one more moment.”
Taking her hand, Hans turned her so she was facing him. “Do you remember how many votes we received in 1928?”
“Of course. Eight hundred and ten thousand. And that gave you twelve seats in Parliament. How many did the party get this time?”
Hans tried to look forlorn, but a grin broke through instead. He squeezed Emilee’s hand. “Six million, four hundred thousand, give or take a few hundred here or there.”
“Oh, Hans!”
“Yes!” His voice was almost shrill with exultation. “And how many seats in Parliament did the Führer say we absolutely had to win?”
“Fifty. He said you had to quadruple your current number. And?” Emilee was breathless with excitement. She could see the lines of weariness around Hans’s eyes, but they were dancing.
“The National Socialists can now claim. . . .” He laughed aloud. “I think we need a drumroll or something about now.”
Emilee could barely stand the suspense. “Tell me, Hans!”
“We now have one hundred and seven seats in Parliament!”
She fell back. “No!”
He leaped to his feet, pulled her up, and kissed her hard. “Yes, Emilee. Adolf asked me to quadruple the number of our seats. I did that, then doubled it again!” He kissed her a second time and then picked her up and whirled her around. “Yesterday, we were the smallest political party in Parliament.” He pulled her in close, crushing her against him. “Today, we are second only to the Social Democrats! We did it, Emilee! We did it!”
“I can’t believe it,” she said over and over.
“Well, see if you can believe this, Schatzi. Adolf came in just before I left. He took me aside and gave me another assignment.”
Emilee groaned. “Not more travel?”
“No.” Hans’s eyes were dancing mischievously. “He told me that I am to buy you that house in Schwabing that we have been looking at now for several months.”
Emilee rocked back. “But—Hans, we can’t afford that.”
“Even if I get another raise of one thousand marks per month, starting immediately?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.
Her jaw went slack. “A thousand. . . .” Then she shook her head. “That’s wonderful, Hans. But the house is still five thousand marks. And we barely have two thousand in the bank.”
Hans was trying hard not to grin. “That’s what I told him.”
“And what did he say?”
He pulled out a check from his shirt pocket and held it up for her to see.
Emilee looked at and then grabbed at Hans’s arm as a wave of dizziness hit her. “Seventy-five hundred marks!”
“Ja, ja! That is our bonus for doing so well in the election, Schatzi. Adolf said to tell you that he wants you to buy all new furniture for the house as well.”
May 24, 1932, 11:38 a.m.—
Bogenhausen Preparatory Academy and Primary School, Mohlstrasse 16, Bogenhausen District, Munich
Alisa Maria Eckhardt looked up from her mathematics problem as the door to the classroom opened and a woman stepped partway inside. Herr Busse frowned as he turned to see who it was. He tolerated no interruptions in his classroom. But when he saw that it was Frau Hornicker, secretary to the head schoolmaster, he forced a smile. “Ja?” he asked.
“Is Fräulein Alisa Eckhardt in your class this hour, Herr Busse?”
Lisa froze. Her teacher nodded and turned to her. “Alisa, come forward, bitte.”
Lisa started to get up, but the woman wagged a finger at her. “You won’t be coming back before class is over,” she said in a clipped voice. “Bring your things, bitte.”
As Lisa gathered up her books and put them in her satchel, she realized that her heart was pounding like a hammer. What could she have possibly done that required her to see the schoolmaster?
“Come, come, child,” the woman said, more kindly now. “Your father is waiting for you.”
And so he was. As Lisa approached the schoolmaster’s office, her father got up from the bench outside of it, smiling broadly. She broke into a trot. “Vati! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
Hans laughed. “Nein, Lisa. I was over on this side of the river for a meeting, and seeing it was near lunchtime, I decided to come and take my lovely daughter to lunch with me.”
Frau Hornicker moved up quickly and gently removed the satchel strap from Lisa’s shoulder. “Here, Fräulein. Let me take your bag. When you return, you’ll have to check in at the office anyway, so I’ll keep it there so you don’t have to carry it.”
Lisa let the strap slip off her arm. “Danke, Frau Hornicker.”
Her father came up and put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as he smiled at the woman. “Danke schön, Frau Hornicker. When does she need to be back?”
“Not until one o’clock. But you can bring her back later if you wish.” She snapped to attention and her right arm shot up. “Heil Hitler!”
That caught Hans by surprise, but he automatically saluted her back. “Ah, so you are a party member, then?”
“Ja, ja!” She was beaming proudly. “For nine years now. It is a great pleasure to meet someone who has done so much for our party.” She turned to Lisa. “You should be very proud.”
“Thank you again, Frau,” Hans said. He took Lisa’s hand and they started for the main door.
11:54 a.m.—Bavarian Meadows Biergarten,
Mauerstrasse 112
“A beer garden, Papa?” Lisa teased.
“I know, I know. Not the best atmosphere for a child, but the nearest family restaurant is back across the river, and I’m not going to make you late for your next class.”
“It’s my English class, Vati. And my English is better than anyone else’s in the class, so if I’m late, my teacher won’t be upset. And besides, school will be out in a few days. What difference does one class make?”
“Yes, your English is amazing, Liebchen. Mama and I are very proud of you.”
“Mama says I have your mind.”
“And hers. She was an excellent nurse, and she taught herself English just by speaking with me. And with the two of you conversing in English as much as you do, hers is getting even better.” They had reached the front door of the restaurant. Hans opened it and gently chided her as she ducked past him. “So no more of this slacking on your grades, young lady.”
“Papa, I missed only one problem on the math test.”
“That was one problem too many.” But he put his arm around her as he flashed a five-mark note at the pretty blonde waitress
in a dirndl. She smiled back and led them to a table in the back corner. As they reached their table, Hans kissed Lisa on top of the head. “We are both very proud of you, Liebchen.” He paused briefly. “So you are not sorry that we moved down to Schwabing?”
The question surprised her. They had bought the new house and moved in almost two years ago, and he was asking her only now if she was happy? “No, Vati. I’m not sorry. I love our house, but I especially love the Academy. It is so much better than the public school in Milbertshofen. And I have lots of friends here.”
“Gut. Gut,” Hans said, patting her back. “I am very glad, because Mama and I like it here much better too.”
12:26 p.m.
Lisa pushed her plate away and sat back with a groan. “That was wonderful schnitzel, Papa. Thank you so much.”
Hans downed the last of his lager—his second—and leaned back as well. “Glad you liked it.” He reached out and briefly touched her hand as he glanced around the room. Catching the eye of the nearest waitress, he waved her over. He picked up the check and handed it to her with a twenty-mark note. “Keep the change.”
Her eyes widened. “Danke schön, Herr Eckhardt.”
As the waitress walked away, Hans looked down at his daughter. “I like eating lunch with my firstborn, but next time I’m going to put a veil on you or something. Do you realize how many young men keep looking at you?”
Lisa almost turned around to look but then realized it was just her father’s way of teasing her. “Oh, Papa,” she said, feigning great weariness. “I’m only twelve. I don’t think boys are looking at me.”
“I know, my dear, but you’ll be thirteen in November, and you look like you’re fifteen. Look at that boy over there with the dark hair. He’s been trying to catch your eye since we came in.”
In spite of herself Lisa turned and looked. Three tables away there was a boy in his mid teens seated with an older couple, perhaps his grandparents. And he was looking at her quite directly. Now, seeing that she was looking at him, he smiled broadly. Flushing deeply, she whipped back around and stared at her plate. Her father chuckled softly. “Told you so,” he said.
She decided it was time to change the subject. “So, Papa, why are you here?”
“I told you. I wanted to see my little girl. Things were kind of slow at the office and I. . . .”
She cocked her head to one side and shot him a look of disgust. “That line may have worked when I was six, but not now. What’s going on?”
Hans laughed shortly. “Who said you could grow up so fast?”
She just stared him down.
“Okay, okay.” He sighed. “As you know, the deadline for applying for the various programs of the Hitlerjugend is this Friday.”
“Actually,” Lisa said, deciding that since he had given her a bad time, it was time to turn the tables on him, “the deadline for the Jungmädel part of the Hitler Youth Program is not until a week later. I guess they think us ‘Young Maidens’ need more time.”
Hans brushed that aside. “Either way, your mother and I are going to be talking about it tonight, because we have to decide if you’re going again this year or not.”
“Why just me?” Lisa asked. “Jolanda turned ten in February. The Jungmädel is for girls ten to fourteen.”
Hans was shaking his head before she finished. “No, not Jo.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not. Not yet, at least.”
She finally nodded. She did know. And her father was right. It would be very difficult for Jolanda. Lisa loved and envied her sister. She was gentle in spirit. Pure in heart. So faithful in her approach to her faith and testimony. Lisa had attended her first summer of Hitler Youth Camp last summer and had loved it. But it had not been easy. What had surprised her most was the constant pressure to be strong, to be courageous, to show no sign of weakness or fear. She had watched as some youth—with enthusiastic encouragement from the camp leaders—pounced on anyone who showed the slightest sign of meekness or timidity and hounded them until they either toughened up or left the camp an emotional wreck. And Jo was one of those gentle spirits. But. . . .
Lisa looked up. “Jo is not as vulnerable as you think, Papa.”
He blinked. “What?”
“She’s stronger than you and Mama think she is.”
“I. . . .” Hans leaned in closer. “So you think she ought to go?”
“No!” She almost barked it out. “She would hate it. But that doesn’t mean that she is weak.”
He studied her for a moment. “She’s not strong like you, Lisa,” he finally said, clearly taken aback by her words.
“Her faith is stronger than mine. Her goodness is stronger than mine. Her love for others is stronger than mine. And it makes me sad that you think that makes her weak.”
Hans didn’t know what to say. He was totally nonplussed by her words. Lisa decided she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So how are you going to keep her from going without getting you in trouble with the party? What if the Führer asks you about her?”
Hans was still staring at her, but after a moment, he shook it off. “Her allergies are pretty bad. And Doctor Fitzwangel has already signed a letter recommending she be excused this summer.”
And how much did that cost you? But of course she didn’t say that out loud.
Hans was watching her closely. “Your mother doesn’t want you to go again,” he murmured. “She wants us to find a reason to get you excused, too.”
“Neither does Oma,” Lisa said. “She’s firmly with Mama on this. And Tante Paula too.”
“I know that,” Hans snapped. “I call it the Mormon Phalanx, them ganging up against me on this. And to be honest, it irritates me to no end.”
Lisa gave her father a sad smile. “Everything about the Mormon Church irritates you, Papa. Us going to church. Mama and Oma paying tithing to the Church. Giving fast offerings once a month. The Word of Wisdom. And, by the way, I wouldn’t drink beer even if it weren’t against the Word of Wisdom. I don’t like the smell of it.”
Hans scoffed openly. “You’re German, for heaven’s sake. How can you not like the smell of beer? Besides, my little Mormon girl, you can’t drink it anyway until you turn thirteen, and then only if you are with a responsible adult.”
Lisa shook her head, irritated again. “Can I ask you a question, Vati?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Why do you call me a little Mormon girl? And why do you talk about my little testimony? It sounds so patronizing.”
“Whoa,” Hans cried, totally taken aback. “I didn’t see that one coming.” Then he laughed. “Patronizing? That’s a pretty big word for a twelve-year-old. Do you even know what it means?”
She shot him a scathing look. “It means what you’re doing right now. Why don’t you just say, ‘Do you even know what that means, little girl?’”
“I. . . . And that makes you feel bad?” he guessed softly.
She blinked quickly. “Yes.”
Hans leaned in and looked deeply into his daughter’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Lisa. You are right. It is demeaning of me, and I apologize. No more. You have my word. You are a young woman now, and a remarkable one at that.”
She was not to be put off. “I’ll make you a deal, Papa.”
“A deal?”
“Yes. Just so you know, I already filled out my application for Hitler Youth and it’s all ready to mail.”
“You what? Wait. It requires a parent’s signature.”
She smiled angelically at him. “Now there’s a little miracle for you. It has your signature on it.”
Hans’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, so I am the one who gets the blame?”
“Do you want me to go or not?” she shot back. When he nodded, “Then here’s the deal. If I do, then you have to let me go to the Freude der Echo at the
end of August.”
“‘Echo of Joy?’ What is that?”
“It’s the youth conference held each summer for all the Mormon youth in Germany. You’ve heard Mama and Aunt Paula talk about it.”
“I don’t think I have ever heard that name before.”
“Only because you tune out anytime we talk about the Church or religion,” she chided him.
He said nothing. She had him there.
“Promise, me, Papa. Promise me I can go to Echo of Joy if I go to the Hitler Youth camp. It’s only for three or four days, but it costs fifty marks.”
“Fifty marks!”
“Yes, and fifty for Jo.”
“This is blackmail!” Hans yelped.
Lisa’s smile had never been sweeter. “It’s just a little blackmail, Vati. From your little Mormon girl.”
Hans stared at her, wonder in his eyes. “What have you done with my daughter, young woman? And does this mean I must stop calling you my Little Mouse?”
Lisa got up, walked around the table, sat in the chair beside her father, and cuddled in against him. “I hope I shall be your Little Mouse until I am old and grey.”
Chapter Notes
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Germany had the same concern for their youth as did the Church in the United States. Though much smaller in scale, they had Primary, Sunday School, and the Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Association (YMMIA) and Young Women’s Mutual Improvement Association (YWMIA) programs. The LDS Boy Scouts was instituted in Germany in 1928, and that same year a nationwide youth conference was held in Berlin. It was called Freude der Echo, or Echo of Joy. Youth met together for competitions in music, drama, and athletics. These conferences became an annual event and were highly popular with the youth (see Mormonism in Germany, 82). Whether “Echo of Joy” was what the youth conferences were called each year or whether it was just the theme of the first one is not clear.
June 12, 1932, 11:50 a.m.—Munich Branch, LDS Church, 24 Blutenburgstrasse, Neuhausen District, Munich
Inga Eckhardt felt a warm rush of emotion as Emilee pulled the car over to the curb in front of the Empress Hotel. There, waiting on the sidewalk out front, were more than a dozen members of her extended family, waving gaily as the new arrivals pulled up. It was if they hadn’t seen each other for months instead of being together just the previous week. As grandmother and matriarch of the family now, Inga found this to be a source of lasting satisfaction and deep joy.
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